A Coffee Filter Creation Story

Hey friends,

One of my classes this semester is called "The Earth Is the Lord's: Ecology, Theology, and the Church's Witness." (Which is quite the name...I usually just call it Earth Class.) For this particular class, one option for our midterm "exam" was to turn in journal entries responding to class readings and discussions. We'd spent some time on the idea of creatio ex profundis, and I wanted to respond to that with a journal entry that involved more than just words.

First, a little context: creatio ex profundis states that creation happened out of chaos (as opposed to creatio ex nihilo, which says creation happened out of nothing). Take a look at Genesis 1:1-2: 

In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. (NRSV)

I've also been taking Hebrew this fall, which despite its tendency to frequently overwhelm me, has actually been one of my favorite classes. The Hebrew word used here for "wind," ruach, can also mean breath or spirit (and probably some other things that aren't on my flashcard...). 

I'm a visual person, if you didn't know, so ever since these class discussions I'd been trying to figure out what that creation out of chaos might look like. As I mulled it over,  it always seemed to be this churning mess of dark blues, greens, and purples, maybe with the smallest sparks of brighter color or light, out of which and over which the ruach would emerge, an equally messy and captivating presence, but full of more color and light. This ruach would snake its way in and out of the void, gently and mysteriously calling together creation. 

So I dug around my apartment (and my friend's recycling pile) to come up with supplies for my art project. The “canvas” I used is some recycled cardboard, on which I painted the background with blue, teal, and black paints (and some of my trusty blue glitter glue). Then I used Sharpies for the Hebrew and English writing (which are both Genesis 1:1-2). The “breath” itself is made of three coffee filters that I dyed with water color paints before crumpling, twisting, and gluing them to the cardboard. Splatters and drops of blue, black, and gold paint make up the final layer. 

Here are a couple pictures of my artistic endeavor. Here's to hoping I'll find more excuses to throw paint around and get school credit for it...

The colors are a little darker in real life, but you get the idea.

Love,

Allison.

A Palm Sunday Thought

Hey friends,

I've got several half-written blog posts in limbo currently, but for now I just want to share some words I read in Common Prayer, which if you aren't familiar is a great book of prayers and liturgy put together by Shane Claiborne, Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, and Enuma Okoro. As I digested these words on Sunday afternoon in the company of a nice breeze on our balcony, I found that this take on Palm Sunday was one that really resonated with me. And if you are here reading, you're probably at least a little interested in the things that resonate with me. So without further ado, I give you 8th century martyr Andrew of Crete...

"Let us say to Christ: Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, the King of Israel. Let us wave before him like palm branches the words inscribed above him on the cross. Let us show him honor, not with olive branches, but with the splendor of merciful deeds to one another. Let us spread the thoughts and desires of our hearts under his feet like garments, so that he may draw the whole of our being into himself and place the whole of his in us."

Even though Palm Sunday has passed and we are approaching the more somber events of Maundy Thursday and Good Friday (of course to be followed by the joy of Easter), I'm hoping I can remember these words and carry them with me far past Holy Week.

Confession: I'm not the best at keeping up with spiritual practices like regular prayer and personal devotions. And by "not the best" I mean I'm kind of terrible at it. Granted, my journaling for Lent has been a good practice that I hope to continue, but it isn't always spiritual, per se. I go about my life and each year, Lent and Holy Week come around and I'm like "Oh. Right. This is a huge deal." Similar to a New Year's resolution, I become determined to be a more regularly spiritual person, whatever that might look like. And similar to those New Year's resolutions, not a month after Easter I'm right back where I was, all caught up in whatever's happening around me.

I think it's okay to be caught up in what's happening around us. To be present in the moments we're living. More than okay. I think that's kind of essential to living life. But maybe the key is to be just as caught up in the inherent spirituality that is in each of those moments. For me, part of that means being merciful towards others because Jesus is merciful towards me, and being honest with God about my thoughts, hopes, and worries. And by "being" I mean "trying to be." I fail frequently.

But it is my hope that I can carry with me this new (to me) figurative view of Palm Sunday. I don't know if that means journaling more often about overtly spiritual things, or remembering God in acts of kindness, or something entirely different that I've yet to figure out. But here's to a week that's inspired me to try.

Love,
Allison

A doodley little palm branch from Sunday's journal entry.
(The words are a song frequently sung at YAV gatherings...sanna is a shortened form of "hosanna.")

Oh hey, God.

Hey friends,

Last weekend as we remembered the events of 9/11, many of us listened to meaningful sermons at church Sunday morning. During the one I heard, the pastor briefly mentioned the increase in practicing religion after 9/11. This was something I don't think I'd heard before, but it made sense. 

Tragedy in this world can be so completely and utterly overwhelming sometimes. It seems these days that every way you turn there's something. Whether it's global issues like war, poverty, and bigotry or more localized issues like a loved one with a serious illness or a natural disaster destroying a city. I mean even those commercials with the neglected kittens and puppies can get to you. There's a reason I hardly ever watch the news.

But how wonderful that there is a God that cares so much for us that he (or she) can be there for us when we need it. The tricky part, at least for me, is remembering to spend time with God when we don't need it. I stumbled upon this website the other day that listed letters children had written to God. One of my favorites: "Dear God, Are you really invisible or is that just a trick?"

I'm pretty sure it's just a trick. The way I see it: God is always all around us, just sometimes not right in front of us. As hard as it is to remember that in the midst of trial and tribulation, to know that can bring tremendous comfort. And just when you think it's been a bit too long, God shows up right there on your proverbial doorstep. I don't want this to seem like I'm saying that everything is just perfect all the time because God is there. It's not. I'm not saying I've got it all figured out, and I'm certainly not saying that I can explain why bad things happen. Just having been at work for two weeks I can already feel how working in a hospital can wear on a person's heart. But I've also seen how truly present God can be in that place.

It's one of my goals this year to put more effort into spiritual practices and disciplines, whether it's praying in color, reading the Bible more, or simply spending more time listening to God. I'm not much a fan of spiritual practices that involve being by myself, but maybe I'll just have to give those a try too. All I know is that it can't hurt to me a little more intentional about connecting with God every day, especially with all the junk going on in the world.

Through it all, as someone said at work last week, there's "nothin' you can do but walk the good walk."

Love,
Allison

Discipline

Discipline of the spiritual sort, that is.

There's plenty of spiritual discipline to be found during the season of Lent. Folks giving up a certain food, or adding this or that to their lives. Personally, I've been writing letters. One every day. In theory. It's turned more into a one-for-every-day situation in which I catch up on weekends. Someone commented to me as I explained my slack in daily writing: "That's why it's a discipline."

...ok, good point.

As I write this I may or may not be (read: I am) a couple letters behind. But by the end of tonight I'll be caught up. I've also be majorly slacking on the literary adventure front. The same aforementioned person mentioned maybe I should switch books for now. So, I put down Mere Christianity (again, just for now) and picked up Irresistible Revolution, and that was a good call. I know the former is a classic and all, and I fully intend on reading it. I'm just going to save Mr. Lewis until the summer when I have a little more time on my hands to sit down and really pay attention to it. A little easier of a read is well-suited to the current time of year, I think.

So I'm sitting here talking about how I'm not that great at discipline. I mean, it's not new either..my study habits in college were far from ideal. Anyway. then I started thinking about the word.

Discipline.

It's awfully close to disciple, yeah? The disciples weren't perfect. They needed some help along the way. (I mean, Jesus had to tell them he'd make them fishers of men...I don't think there are many people who would just wake up one day and go "Oh. I know. I think I'll fish for people today instead of for food.") They questioned. They doubted. But they still tried and made a difference.

I'm not saying my reading or writing will change the world, and maybe all this is just me trying to justify sometimes forgetting to write my daily letter or neglecting to set time aside for reading. Intentions only count for so much, but I think at least hope's not lost for my current undertakings!

Now, off to write a letter and a half more, and maybe even get some reading done. :) Until next time, friends.

Love,
Allison.

Simplicity

The devo I wrote for PSF's email today, in case anyone's interested:

“Simple living” is a topic often discussed and emphasized in the YAV community, and one that we Nashville YAVs recently learned more about in the book we’re currently reading together. Something I’ve been thinking about since our latest discussion is the fact that living simply is not solely about living with less money or fewer belongings. It’s never a bad practice to really think about what you buy and to avoid unnecessary clutter, but simple living can equally emphasize conscientiousness regarding the things we do acquire. The book we’ve been reading mentions the Quaker tradition’s emphasis on simplicity, for example, and quotes Thomas Kelly, a Quaker leader: “Prune and trim we must, but not with ruthless haste and ready pruning knife, until we have reflected upon the tree we trim, the environment it lives in, and the sap of life which feeds it.” There isn’t an overarching rule amongst Quakers against earning or investing money. Instead exists an emphasis on analyzation and reflection by each individual. It’s all about context, and figure out what’s right for yours.

The right way for you to live simply might indeed be to trim down purchases and go through all that stuff lying around. Or maybe it’s deciding to buy fair trade foods and clothing. Perhaps, though, it doesn’t even have to do with money at all. Thomas Kelly is again quoted, this time about simplifying the way we use our time: “Too many of us have too many irons in the fire. We get distracted by...our interest in a thousand and one good things...simplicity needs to be expressed not merely in the dress and architecture and the height of tombstones but also in...opposition to the hurried, superficial tendencies of our age.”

So, take a few minutes and think about how you can simplify. You don’t have to get rid of everything in your dorm room or apartment. You don’t have to commit to never earning any money. Think about what’s right for you, and give it a try.

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God--what is good and acceptable and perfect. (Romans 12:2)

In case you're curious, the aforementioned YAV book is Practicing Our Faith, and is edited by Dorothy Bass. Also, speaking of books, I've been sorely lacking in my efforts towards crossing things off of my literary adventure list, but I'm working on it! Still on Mere Christianity...

Love,

Allison

Doodle is a funny word...

Hello dear friends!

On our retreat this past weekend (scroll down to my last post for a few retreaty words) we were introduced to a couple of new spiritual practices of sorts. One was journaling, which I rather enjoyed at the time, but just didn't stick. Another, however, is called praying in color and inspired by Sybil MacBeth's book of the same name. The book is far better at explaining it than I am, but basically, it's contemplative and spiritual doodling. By doodling the names of people we're praying for, we can lift up those names, but leave the wording and problem-solving to God. I mean, I don't know about you but half the time when I start to pray, it's like "Dear God, please help...man that sandwich I had for lunch was good...I wonder what I'm doing next year...I hope there's enough coffee left for tomorrow morning..." Next thing you know I'm asleep. Anyway, you get the idea. Doodling gives your hands something to do and your mind something to focus on--a most excellent thing for fidgeters like yours truly. The idea (MacBeth says that the doodle is only half of the prayer) is that in visualizing your doodle prayers throughout the day, you can remember those that need your prayers, and lift a little prayer up right then and there. For God, you don't need the words or attention span to form complete sentences. He gets the little green circles and squiggles.

A dear friend told me on Skype as she was going to bed for the night, after I'd explained this whole thing: "Go doodle with God. He'll keep you company." I really liked that. The idea of God keeping us company. I mean, God's always there...I don't think many religious folks would argue that some higher power isn't around all the time. But keeping us company. I feel like if someone keeps another company, it's a casual, friendly thing. "Oh, you're walking back to your room? Let me keep you company." "No one to eat lunch with? I'll keep you company." God's just hangin' out makin' friends.

In addition to doodley praying for other people, you can (says MacBeth) use the practice to learn Bible verses, make calendars (praying for a certain person/thing each day), and a host of other things that are at the moment escaping my memory. Given my newfound love of this form of reflection, I stopped by the grocery store on my way home from work one day this week and snagged an off-brand notebook in which to store my doodle prayers. One of my latest ones is rather introspective...it's a work in progress, but I feel pretty good about it. I think I'll move on the the coloring part, in hopes of being inspired with more words to describe myself and fill in the blank spots. That sounds potentially conceited, I think, saying I just want to describe myself. But it's been a good experience so far, having to fill up a big ol' box. By no means are they all good words.

I am daughter, sister, great-niece and friend. I am coffee drinker, Presbyterian, Furmanite and (part) pyromaniac.  I am judgmental. I am impatient, lonely, and I am worried.

I am a work in progress, and I am a child of God.

So off I go, prayerfully doodling my way through the rest of a year in Nashville, and (sometimes) blogging about it as I go. Stay warm out there, and happy Super Bowl-ing, friends.
Love,
Allison.

P.S. - Try as I might, the blog version of my picture wouldn't rotate. Just tilt your head to the right a bit and we'll be good to go.