Happy 23rd Birthday Amanda!

To my beautiful friend:

Hoping you have the best birthday yet, and an even better year! Thank you for your friendship and for all the ways that you have taught me about love, grace and trust through example and over late night tea. The world got a little better the day you were born and I feel so lucky to be your friend. I'm looking forward to a lifetime of friendship and many more birthdays to come!
Love,
Cait

To be known

Today I was looking at a poster sale in the student centre on campus. I was looking at the different prints by various artists and began to think a bit about what it means to be known. One of the posters in particular stood out to me. It was a painting of the back of a woman's head. Her hair was up, and her hands we around the back of her neck. It was really quite beautiful. Another poster was just a sketch of a woman. Very free hand, but also very beautiful. At first I imagined the artists who created these works. I imagined that they had seen beauty in these women and wanted to capture a piece of it, as to make it timeless. But then, I thought, how must have the artist's subjects have felt? To be immortalized in some small fashion, to have some one examine every detail of you, as to not make any mistakes. I imagine as if they would have felt very honoured.
Now, I realize that just because someone paints a picture of you, or captures a beautiful moment on film does not make you "known"- but the more I began to think about this idea, the more it seemed true. We want people to see us for who we really are and to understand us at such a deep level that we don't even have words to express it.
It's funny that we go to such a great extent to express ourselves- to have 'favourites' - to spend a lot of time describing our interests, musical tastes and favourite quotes on things like facebook, that we feel hurt when we remember someone's name, but they forget ours, that we want our opinion to be heard and respected in the classroom, that there is something so deep and beautiful about knowing the little idiosycracies of the ones we love, and that we delight when the those we love know all of the little details about us.

We are people that long to be known.

The Psalms tell us that God has searched us as and that he knows us (Ps 139:1)- yet David still cries out to God and says, "Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts" (Ps 139:23).

In a perfect world, there would be no longing to be known. I mean, I guess there wouldn't be a longing for anything. There is a line in a Brooke Fraser song that I think is very beautiful that says,

"I will sigh and with all creation groan
As I wait for hope to come for me."

I like the idea that hope comes for us, but for the longest time, before I read the lyrics, I thought she was saying, "as I wait for hope to conform me." I want this hope that I have- not only the hope that one day I will be truly known, but also hope that one day I will truly have eyes that can see others and that the world will be restored, and that love really will win- I want it to conform me now- I'm not even sure if I understand what it means for hope to conform me- but I like it. I want the hope I have for the future to change the way I see things today.

I think I have figured out that I will never be able to be known to the extent that I desire to- and I don't think that you will ever be known the way you want to- not here anyway. And while I understand that God knows every single detail, our humanity and the world we're in prevent us from having the perfect relationship with God that we so long for. But, Brooke Fraser's lyrics remind me that hope exists for that very reason. Hope doesn't exist in perfection, there is no need for it. But for now, while we wait and long to be known and understood- we hope.

I think that the bridge of Brooke Fraser's song* so perfectly says what we are to do in the meantime:

We, we re not long here
Our time is but a breath
So we better breathe it
And I, I was made to live
I was made to love
I was made to know You

Hope is coming for me.



So, until the time comes when we hope no more, and we no longer need to find ways to show our souls to others, let's hope in confidence. And lets have eyes that look for God and all his glory in every corner of our lives.


As per usual, my thoughts seem to be so jumbled. My apologies. I want to include a couple photographs that I have of people in my life who are so important and lovely to me- I feel as though sometimes, through art, we are able to capture just a little bit of a person's beauty, mystery and value.











*painting at the top is by Salvador Dali
* C.S. Lewis Song, by Brooke Fraser

The Messy Digestion of Labels

A few weeks ago at camp, I had a great discussion with my co-counsellor about words and how we identify ourselves by them. We were talking about the word 'Christian' and my friend was saying how words and labels, while necessary in some respect, are also completely limiting. We were talking about how when I define myself by any given title, what I think that title represents, might be completely different than the person that I am speaking with. For example, someone might call themselves a "Christian" because they feel like they have been "saved" and have "accepted Jesus into their hearts". This is incredibly problematic because it assumes that those around us understand that the label ("Christian") is based on the same factors as we assume it is. It becomes even more complicated when we start to question the assumptions behind the labels as well. What does it mean to be "saved" etc... Another person might assume that a Christian is someone who follows that wayof Jesus...well, what is the way of Jesus, etc.

Secondly, labels put people in boxes. Recently, a person I was working with constantly brought up the fact that she was a teacher. "I am a teacher", she'd say. I think she probably did this to give her insights and opinions some more weight and value- despite the fact that this wasn't necessary. It was weird to me that she kept reminding us of what she did- because we would have valued her opinion if she was an accountant or a cashier as well. It seemed silly that she kept referring to herself this way because really, she is a lot more than a teacher- she's a person. And people are complex creatures that cannot be defined by how they pay their bills or what they have been trained to do.

The thing about labels is that sometimes they say more about what you AREN'T than what you are. Not to be too relativist, but it's important to realize, like I said above, that it is very rare that those around us even share common definitions of the words and titles that we use in everyday conversation. An easy way to demonstrate this is to ask a random group of people what the word environmentalist, feminist, activist, green, vegetarian, religious, radical, revolutionary or peacemaker means to them. I guarantee you that everyone will say something slightly different.

I am not exactly sure where I am going with all of this. I'm not trying to argue that we need to drop labels all together- maybe we need ways to catagorize people and thoughts to make sense of the world around us. However, maybe the more we label, the more we actually misunderstand people...maybe the more we catagorize, the LESS we actually understand who a person is. I am realizing that even when I label myself something, the people around me are going to interpret what I call myself through their own lens, perspective and experiences.
It's all very complicated.

I wonder what it would be like if the only label that I had for myself and those around me was "person" - or even better, "person worthy of love"...

Imagine.

And of course, as I have been thinking about how words can be very limiting and harmful to our understanding of ourselves and those around us, I have also been reminded about how words can also be beautiful and meaningful and can speak to us on a deep level.

I love the idea of the imagry of words. I heard a song recently, written by a girl I know that says, "open wide and digest deep." I have never been told the thought process behind her lyrics, but I know that for me, those words have played on repeat in my head as I have been going about my life. And the idea of digesting love and knowledge and pain- has become very real and beautiful. Digest deep.

Likewise, on the painting that my friend painted for me (shown above), there is a line that says that there is a tree of life that is "planted firmly in the messy soils of love." Ahhh, and I just love that idea- because I think about soil and how when you put your hands in the earth and dig, it's dirty. But it is also so, so satisfying- and necessary for things to grow. The messy soils of love- just words, but somehow profound enough for them rumble through my head and give me a tangible picture of what love is made up of.

It's late and I feel like I have made a poor connection between my two thoughts. Please excuse the rambling.

If you get nothing else from the time you've wasted reading this, know that you are a person worthy of love- and be conscious of the words around you that speak art and truth into your life.

A New Leaf

I've moved to Waterloo and officially become a poor graduate student. This big change has definitely been the onset for a lot of thinking. It's weird when it appears as though everyone in your life stays static but everything around you changes. I don't overly enjoy change- but perhaps ironically, I love adventure. These past couple of days have felt like I have recaptured my independence a bit. I spent so much time last year learning about the importance of putting relationships and people first. I learned that we are designed to be dependent on each other. It's interesting though, as I am realizing that independence is in some ways the other side of the same coin. Yesterday, a good friend of mine left a beautiful painting on my doorstep that she had painted. It's a stunning piece of art and she made it for ME- it's an abstract-ish tree with deep roots and interwoven branches. This painting reminds me of where I come from, who my people are and highlights the fact that I have a huge group of people who I love and who love me. Yet, while I am dependent on my friends and family in a non-tangible sense, I have really felt a sense of my 'aloneness' these past couple of days. Not alone in the bad sense of the word, but in the fact that I have to set up hydro accounts, find my way around a giant university, cook for myself, navigate through hoards of terrible paper work, find out where the nearest coffee shop is- all of these practical things. I am learning to do things on my own. And like I mentioned above, I think this is possible because I come from such a loving family (in the exteneded sense of the word).

So, here I am. In Waterloo...sitting in the student centre- watching a LOT of people walk around wearing hardhats and waving flags (weeeeird!)- and I am ok with it. I am excited/anxious/ready to see why the heck I thought it was a good idea to come here. I feel like I have chosen to go to graduate school for a reason and I feel like eventually I will understand what that reason is.

Thank God for the peace that is sometimes gifted to us. And for change and the unknown, that keeps us on our toes and ensures that we don't think we've got all the answers or everything figured out.

The Small Things Baby, the Small things!

Last night I was having a beer with my great friend Nik and I had another small (or maybe an continued) revelation. I guess it's something that I have been learning all summer- in life, the small things really matter.
We were talking about how sometimes the kind words people say, or the little things they do, are only remembered by one person. My mom has a magnet that says, "To the world you might only be one person, but to one person you might be the world." It's cheesy yes, but I think it's also true. And the same can be said for our words and our actions.

I remember how my grandparents used to make my brother and I "goodie bags" for when we'd leave their house- filled with obsene amounts of fruit, rasins and homemade "granola-ish" bars. I remember the time when Laur gave me red tulips after my grandfather died. I remember how my friends made me a care package of sugar free goodness when I was on a road trip during the time where I thought I was addicted to sugar. I remember when my friend Kim called yesterday, just to see how I was doing. I remember Connor sending me countless emails to keep me company at work. I remember when Brit generously contributed towards my trip to Ecuador, even though she worked full-time for free. I remember the time when Morgan let Laur and I stay at his place and left us all sorts of nice stuff. I remember the time Steeper and Leah sent me beautiful birthdy cards. I remember when Amanda had the new Pat Robitaille cd mailed to my house. I remember the time Boo Boo gave me a booster juice card. I remember when my friends made a POSTER of my face to take to a concert that I couldn't make it to. I remember when my Mom made me awesome dinners everynight for a YEAR- because otherwise, I resort to cereal. I remember how happy the Underground family made me every Tuesday night and how every "fam" gathering brought a little bit more joy into my world.

These are the small things- but together they equal a lot of the goodness, beauty, peace and love in my life. I don't know if any of these times are ever thought of again by anyone else but me...but like I said before, these times have made my world. I want to remember these times and remember that the small things really do matter. It's not an earth shattering revelation- but it's true. We will never know how much we impact the lives of the people around us- for better and for worse. I want to be mindful of this in my daily life so that I can, hopefully, in some small way, be a part of someone else's small moment of goodness.

I am incredibly grateful for all of the unbelievable people in my life, who with their small gestures of love and goodness, have been conduits of grace and truth.
Thank you.

Heroes and Hearts

We put no stumbling block in anyone's path, so that our ministry will not be discredited. Rather, as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: in great endurance; in troubles, hardships and distresses; in beatings, imprisonments and riots; in hard work, sleepless nights and hunger; in purity, understanding, patience and kindness; in the Holy Spirit and in sincere love; in truthful speech and in the power of God; with weapons of righteousness in the right hand and in the left; through glory and dishonor, bad report and good report; genuine, yet regarded as impostors; known, yet regarded as unknown; dying, and yet we live on; beaten, and yet not killed; sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything.
We have spoken freely to you, Corinthians, and opened wide our hearts to you. We are not withholding our affection from you, but you are withholding yours from us. As a fair exchange—I speak as to my children—open wide your hearts also.
-2 Cor 6:3-13.

Back in February, I heard Donald Miller speak at a conference for youth workers at Willow Creek. It was quite an overwhelming experience to say the least- Willow Creek is a church of 30,000 people- it looks like a mall, has a waterfall AND a cafeteria. I was most excited to hear Donald Miller speak, because I have read all of his books multiple times (gosh, I am a nerd)- but I love his writing, his perspective and how he is a Christian, but doesn't seem like a weirdo.

Donald Miller based his talk around the idea of stories and heroes. He talked about how it's not surprising that kids are getting into a lot of trouble these days, drinking, drugs, sex, consuming- sort of getting stuck in lives that aren't really going anywhere. He was completely non-judgemental, as his point was, that it is no wonder that kids (and adults)get stuck in lives like this- because it's seemingly exciting. And the problem with the Church, or Christianity, or whatever you want to call it, is that it can seem incredibly boring. And I fully agreed with good ole' Don Miller. It CAN appear boring- all about rules and ritual, about a life of depravity...blah, blah.
So, then he told a story about his friend's daughter, who was going down this crappy path, making bad choices, dating some dude who was going nowhere. He talked about how her father decided that the whole family had to come together to help the daughter realize that she wasn't living up to her potential. So, somehow, they got involved with a project in Mexico that helped orphans find homes, or something along those lines. The point is, that that daughter felt like she had become important in the lives of other people- in a way, she had become the hero. She was suddenlu living for something beyond herself- she didn't need a dead end boyfriend, she was a frigging hero!

Donald Miller went on to talk about how a life lived for God, a life of faith should never be boring. That in fact, we are called to be heroes. It's kind of a cheesy story, and I realize that saving orphans doesn't and shouldn't define us, but I think his point was a around about way of saying that we are made for something more.

After I heard him speak about heroes, I thought a lot about it. I love to read, and like most people, I always cheer for the hero- the underdog, the one who makes the tough, but noble decisions in the face of great adversity. And sometimes, I try to picture my life in a book- and I look at my decisions and the way that I react to things and sadly, more often than not, I don't think that I act like the hero that I want to be.

I was thinking about this last night as I read through 2 Corinthians...Paul talks about how he and his buddies are trying to make the right decisions, to live righteously and justly in a land and time that was anything but. What really spoke to me though, is the part where Paul tells the Corinthians that they have "freely opened wide their hearts to them" and then remarks how the Corinthians's hearts remained closed. I imagined that must have been pretty crappy for Paul- because I know from experience, sometimes I have opened my heart to others to find a closed heart in return- and worse, I have closed my heart to people that have freely given me theirs. I am learning that in relationships, it takes being a hero to open up your heart to people- especially when they seemed to have closed themselves off from you. It takes a hero to know that the right and loving thing to do- is stay put, dig in- keep your heart open- no matter what the response is. I am ashamed to admit that sometimes, if I feel that people have wronged me, my initial response is to pull away, close myself off- I guess because I feel like I need to self-protect, but worse is that I want to in a way, punish someone for hurting me. I feel like a monster staying this- but it's true.
Reading the letter to the Corinthians and thinking about heroes has made realize that being a hero can be as small as keeping my heart open- and recognizing and correcting my closed heart when I feel myself wanting to withdraw from people when I feel slighted, replaced or demoted.

Identity is such a funny and evolving concept. This summer I taught a session on Identity in Christ to a group of 16 year- olds and here I am, weeks later, learning that it's a much bigger picture. Like Paul says, in Christ, we possess everything we need- including a place where our hearts can be infinitely open, knowing that there is no risk of failure or pain- and from that- we can go out into the world and love people without conditions. I love how Paul says that he has
not withheld affection from the people, despite the fact that he felt like something was clearly off in their relationship. Life is way too short to be cheap with our love and affection for others.
I want to love people without conditions- I want to love people despite how they feel about me. I imagine that is what the hero would do...
Open up heart.
Open up.

in case you forgot...