meditations.

So coinciding with this sort of creating and putting-out-there hiatus, I've also decided to do a sort-of fast this week (today, May 25th, through next Friday, June 1st).  I haven't yet decided what to call this fast, so I'll refrain from slapping labels on it.  To give you an idea though: it would be called a "secular media fast" by some, but I don't really believe in the word "secular" in the sense that we tend to use it.  I don't believe there is a single thing that is devoid of the divine, I don't believe that art is temporal.  It's more of a "I'm not listening to music that doesn't bring God to mind in some sense, I'm only reading books that edify me spiritually (This is a big deal. It is not because other books are bad. It is because I have starved myself of the spiritual in the literary world for a very long time and I am in desperate need of some spiritual edification by way of one of my favorite things - books.)" kind of fast.  In other words, a "Sufjan Stevens/M. Ward/Jon Foreman-listening, Bible/faith/art book-reading, meditation time."  Don't ask about the M. Ward thing; I couldn't explain it to my mother, so I won't try to explain it to you.

Anyway, I figured I'd post some of the things I've been reading and listening to and meditating on in lieu of writing about myself like usual.  I don't expect them to be (necessarily) as earth-shattering to you as they have been thus far to me because the Creator of the universe has tailored them specifically for me.  How absolutely beautiful and outrageous and scandalous does that sound?  Lets just take a minute here for that to sink in.

I.

Come Thou Fount of every blessing,

Tune my heart to sing Thy grace.

Streams of mercy never ceasing

Call for songs of loudest praise

...

Here I raise my Ebenezer,

Hither by Thy help I come;

And I hope by Thy good pleasure

Safely to arrive at home

...

Let that grace now, like a fetter,

Bind my wandering heart to Thee.

Prone to wander, Lord I feel it,

Prone to leave the God I love.

Here's my heart, O take and seal it,

Seal it for Thy courts above.

-bits and pieces of my favorite hymn, Come Thou Fount.  Emphasis on the last section.  My favorite version is Sufjan Stevens',which you can (and should, if you haven't) hear a live version of here.

II. 

"When worship is our response to the One who alone is worthy of it - Jesus Christ - then our lives are on their way to being turned inside out.  Every dimension of self-centered living becomes endangered as we come to share God's self-giving heart... Through the grace of worship, God applies the necessary antidote to what we assume is merely human - our selfishness.  Worship sets us free from ourselves to be free for God and God's purposes in the world.  The dangerous act of worshiping God in Jesus Christ necessarily draws us into the heart of God and sends us out to embody it, especially toward the poor, the forgotten and the oppressed." - The Dangerous Act of Worship, as quoted in Living the Christian Year which I am currently reading and highly, highly recommend.  

III.

"Those who can let go of the day, including its slights and sins, enter the next day forgiven and free.  Those who fear the grave as little as their own bed become available for bold and creative living...we sleep well, as we live and die well, knowing that we are in God's embrace." -Dorothy Bass, also as quoted in Living the Christian Year. I keep picking quotes that are quoted in this book because it's much easier than quoting the entire book, which I would end up doing if I tried to narrow it down to some little gems.  

IV. 

"Plato spoke of the necessity for divine madness in the poet. It is a frightening thing to open oneself to the strange and dark side of the divine; it means letting go our self-control, that control which gives us the illusion of safety. But safety is only an illusion, and letting it go is part of listening to the silence, and to the Spirit."

"And as I listen to the silence, I learn that my feelings about art and my feelings about the Creator of the Universe are inseparable. To try to talk about art and about Christianity is for me one and the same thing, it means attempting to share the meaning of my life, what gives it, for me, its tragedy and its glory. It is what makes me respond to the death of an apple tree, the birth of a puppy, northern lights shaking the sky, by writing stories."

"When the work takes over, then the artist is enabled to get out of the way, not to interfere. When the work takes over, then the artist listens.

But before he can listen, paradoxically, he must work. Getting out of the way and listening is not something that comes easily, either in art or in prayer.

Before I can listen to God in prayer, I must fumble through the prayers of words, of willful demands, of childish "Gimmes," of "Help mes," of "I want..." Until I tell God what I want, I have no way of knowing whether or not I truly want it... The prayers of words cannot be eliminated. And I must pray them daily, whether I feel like praying or not. Otherwise, when God has something to say to me, I will not know how to listen. Until I have worked through self, I will not be enabled to get out of the way." 

-selections from Madeleine L'Engle's Walking on Water: reflections on faith and art.  For the record, she is the author of my absolute favorite book growing up, A Wrinkle in Time.  So discovering that she also wrote a book about Christianity and art made me totally freak out.  I searched every...single...bookstore I have been near in the last month before finally giving up and ordering it on Amazon.  I just started reading it today; it has already been every bit as wonderful as I had hoped it would be, and more so.  So, if you like art and find it to be firmly bound up with your faith, GO FIND THIS BOOK AND READ IT. 

V.

I mentioned earlier a book called Living the Christian Year: time to inhabit the story of God by Bobby Gross.  Essentially, it follows the liturgical year, giving a little bit of the history and significance of each season in the church calendar and providing devotions for each week of the church calendar.  Having grown up Episcopalian and Anglican, I've been surrounded by the church calendar and the liturgy my entire life.  I've found it too easy to dismiss it and deprive it of its importance and beauty.  Whether you've also experienced this, or the liturgical year is somewhat new to you, this book is absolutely amazing.  It too is new to my reading list, and it is definitely taking up permanent (or at least semi-permanent) residence.  

Anyway, this coming Sunday is Pentecost, which marks the beginning of what is called Ordinary Time, which is basically the six months where nothing big like the Son of God being born or dying is going on.  Ordinary Time, as Gross describes it, is the season of flow, of rhythm, of being filled up with Christ and pouring it back out on the world around us.  In terms of the liturgical year, it begins with Pentecost, where the disciples received an outpouring of the Spirit, and follows the story of their ministry, of the early church.  It is a time for taking in the Spirit and pumping out light and life and love into others, much like your heart takes in and pumps out blood.  An even flow, a constant rhythm.  So in terms of meditation, I've been thinking a lot about what that looks like and practicing how to constantly have both of these things in my life - Christ in me, Christ flowing out of me - rather than my usual schedule, which is a lot of neither of those things.  Ordinary Time, I feel, is the perfect season for me.  Because the idea of the rhythm is tantalizing to me, and also because I am terrible at it.  Also, the liturgical color for Ordinary Time is green, which is my favorite color.  My Abba Father loves me outrageously. 

IV.

Reaching, always reaching
Never reaching solid ground

Seeking always seeking
Never seeking what I've found Baptize my mind
Baptize my eyes
Baptize my mind
For a seed to give birth to life
First it must die

Both my hands are filled
With guilt
(Give me absolution)
Both my eyes are blind
With filth
(Give me absolution)-lyrics from Baptize My Mind by Jon Foreman.  Listen here.  

an accidental hiatus

So I've been taking an accidental blogging hiatus.  Well, kind of a general writing hiatus actually.  At first I resisted it and tried time and time again to write anything - poems, oddly rhythm-ed prose (I guess technically still poems, but I discount them), trite bits of scenes...anything - but it all sucked and it wasn't real so I stopped.  I didn't get why I couldn't write.  I thought it was because I'd reached my limit...that I'd already said all the things I had to say and I was done, my time was up.  But that's not true.  People like me, (much to the vexation of folks who haven't got the time to read the flighty soul-wanderings of silly girls) we never stop talking/writing/coming up with things we think are important to say - if only for our own mental health.  Then I thought it was really because I'm not an artist, that there isn't one single artistic bone, cell, atom, whatever's smaller than that, in my body or soul.  But then I started thinking about what an artist really is and how there aren't really any specific requirements and all that.  My current working definition of an artist is just somebody who likes to create things with purpose.  So I realized it was unfair to say there is nothing that makes me an artist, because I'm a kid who likes to create things that have or serve a purpose.  Sometimes that purpose is just to get things out of my brain and onto a thing - a canvas, or a computer screen, or a doodled-on crumpled-up piece of paper - so that I can see it and figure it out.  Sometimes that purpose is to understand the world around me a little better and put my understanding out there in hopes that maybe someone else will understand the world a little better too.  Sometimes - though, honestly, not nearly enough...and when I say that, I mean rarely ever - it's to glorify God, this absolutely creative and beautiful and breathtaking Being that, for some reason, chose to imbue me, this punky, lame, flighty kid, with an appreciation for creativity and beauty and soul-excavating through art. 

[Here let me say that there is no such thing as "enough" when it comes to glorifying God.  I really suck at it.  I'm trying to be better at it, but really, I suck.  What happens to me sometimes though is that I'll start out writing to my own personal end and then somewhere after the first couple sentences, God graciously takes over and redeems my selfish attempts at creating.  I still don't get why He does these things for me sometimes, but that's just that indelible grace.]

So I decided it wasn't that I had reached my quota of things to say, or that I'm not creative, or that I simply suck as a human being.  I've learned a couple things in life, and one of them is that there are seasons.  And I'm not talking about the weather.  There are human seasons - relationship seasons and well-being seasons and empty seasons and creative seasons - and they can last weeks or months or even years.  For me, there are probably two different kinds of creative seasons: there's the give-and-take, where there's an almost-constant in and out flow of art, and then there's the be-still, where everything I try to create is a flop and I find myself having to sit out the game for a minute and take gulps of the art around me.  The latter is the one I feel I've been in for a bit now (though I've occasionally managed to spit out a post here and there).  I resented it and fought it and tried every trick in the book to get over it, but to no avail.  I'm like a child resisting a nap, fighting and trying to run away, but ever so needing the rest.  And then there's my Father, comforting me: "Shh, shh, Beloved.  Be still.  Rest now.  Attend yourself to My ways, to My art.  Take some time to just sit back and learn, before your work loses its meaning entirely.  Let Me lead you in this rest and then let Me lead you when it's time to start creating again.  Learn to listen to the creative murmurings that I place within you." 

And that's what I intend to do.  It may be that the understanding is the beginning of the end of it.  It may be that I'll be in this season for a while longer.  I'm not sure when I'll get put back in the game.  I'm okay with that. 

However, in the near future, The Prismatic Life will be taking on some changes and maybe even a new home, so be on the lookout for that! Stay real, folks.