Last year, A* and I purchased a book called Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas. We started reading it again last night. While at first and second readings, the author was a bit deep and intellectual in his writing, there were elements in what we read that made me pause. I have some thoughts running through my mind, but first I should put in the excerpt:

Meditation by Friedrich Wilhelm Foerster

Above the portal of the ancient cathedral in Lisbon is found a marvelous portrayal of the Blessed Mother with her child. Mary, the image of purity and divine grace, in not bent over the child: she is looking far, far away, as if she were contemplating the deepest meaning of the Incarnation of the divine Spirit and as if she were surveying the immeasurable consequences of the event upon which shone the star of Bethlehem. What is that deepest meaning? It becomes clear to us when we hear from the streets the cries of newspaper vendors calling out the latest news. This latest news is basically age old and constantly repeated: the cold or hot war of everyone against everyone else. Its simple cause lies in the fact that man with his intellectual gifts squanders his superiority of mind - his intelligence and passion on animal disputes and purposes. In contrast to this, the mystery of the Incarnation brings us an eternally new, uniquely real message - a message that points to the sole fundamental solution of the problem facing all mankind: pure spirit penetrates the dust-born life, leaves aside all temptation, accomplishes the whole Passion of the divine Spirit in an unspiritual world, and returns to eternity pure. But we plunge right and left into every temptation, every challenge, every folly - and the wages of sin are paid to us every time, without fail. But we will not admit that we are constantly being punished because we are constantly falling from our God-giving calling; that is, because we are constantly confusing the temporal and earthly with the heavenly and the eternal.

These lines jump out at me at first:

What is that deepest meaning? It becomes clear to us when we hear from the streets the cries of newspaper vendors calling out the latest news [that] is basically age old and constantly repeated: the cold or hot war of everyone against everyone else.

My initial thought is of the wars going on, but I'm quickly drawn in to remember wars within the Church. Slice of Laodicea comes to mind first, given my being banned from the further posting of comments after I was apparently deemed to be an "enemy" of Slice. Maybe I'm becoming too cynical of the organized Church, although I have many of my own "dear church" letters still to write. But as I meditate on this reading more deeply, I come to realize that I am my biggest obstacle:

In contrast to this, the mystery of the Incarnation brings us an eternally new, uniquely real message - a message that points to the sole fundamental solution of the problem facing all mankind: pure spirit penetrates the dust-born life, leaves aside all temptation, accomplishes the whole Passion of the divine Spirit in an unspiritual world, and returns to eternity pure. But we plunge right and left into every temptation, every challenge, every folly - and the wages of sin are paid to us every time, without fail.

Despite the fact that Jesus came to free me of every temptation I plunge into, I never cease to plunge right and left into my own selfishness, "constantly confusing the temporal and earthly with the heavenly and the eternal." Because of this, I need this reminder to gaze not on the earthly body of the baby Jesus, but far, far away into the depth of the actions of Jesus. Within that meditative gaze is the call to follow the life of Jesus, receiving the "consequences" that are grace and mercy, and recognizing that we are enemies of no one - as Jesus invited all to follow Him. There is validation that comes into sight with that gaze, not earthly against those whom I think are missing the real gospel (like Slice), but in the heavenly and eternal promise that God is always reaching out to me. This I believe, God; help my unbelief when I take my gaze off the fullness of Your love that is Jesus.

If you immediately are thinking of the U2 song when you read the title of this blog, then so far we are on the same page. It's a theme that has been on my mind lately, and honestly, I am also feeling the effects of not journaling daily like I intended with this blog. I can tell that my heart and spirit are running low, I'm becoming distracted by things I ought not be dwelling on, and maybe even a little depressed as we move into the holiday seasons. There are a lot of things on my mind, namely considering how to best plug ourselves into our new church community, my health, and our dogs.

The first is really about what level of commitment we can output while we are still adjusting to life with a baby. It's only been 8 weeks since Amelia was born (has it really been 8 weeks already!), but we are still adjusting. A* and I have discussed that we will not truly be able to experience the new church community without plugging into a small group, but now that the holidays are upon us, we aren't sure it is practical to try to plug in now. It might be based to wait until the new year, which requires patience on our part.

On the subject of church in general, I've really appreciated the book Dear Church that I've been reading. The author not only is honest with the church about her disillusionment with the church, but then flips everything around and discusses what needs to change on the part of our generation in this issue. It is definitely an honest give and take, but more importantly an effort to seek forgiveness, grace, and the gospel. This excerpt hit me especially as I was reading in a "whoa is me" mindset:

When I let my dissatisfaction with church direct how I respond to people or events, it's like turning the day over to disillusionment. And every time I allow myself to be influenced by these same disappointments, I give disillusionment another day. Before long, I've pledged weeks, months, even years to discontentment. I begin, in effort, to give my life - not to Jesus - but to disillusionment.

This kind of unexpected idolatry - the obsession with living in despair over what is wrong with institutionalized church - creeps up on you (like most shifty little idols do). No one ever asks you to repeat a prayer and ask disillusionment into your life. No one ever asks you to read a membership manual explaining your ongoing commitment to disillusionment. Just the same, criticism is what we end up worshiping.

I especially love the line "No one ever asks you to repeat a prayer and ask disillusionment into your life." To me, it shows how easy it is to fall out of touch with Jesus and back to our nature of self, as if we never had any comprehension of how good our God is for us, how much He desires to sustain our relationship with Him, and most importantly to heal us from ourselves. I give so much attention within myself to my discontent spirit, my disagreeable nature, and my picky, selfish interests, that I lose focus of the love that is Jesus.

Even now as I write this, I'm battling thoughts of anger over my body, the 20 pounds of weight which I want to lose, my questioning about what else could I do to eat better to get my blood tests to be good, an attack on myself for being lazy in not continue to run and exercise on the days I don't play basketball. My thoughts drift to more drastic ideas of solving this problem, which I know in my head will just make me more miserable. But I am also praying that Jesus conforms my thoughts, my attitude, and my distractions into what is pure and of love.

Last Wednesday I became bothered by my left ear being really blocked up. I thought it was filled with water or something. I could barely hear out of my ear at all. It was annoying. Thursday morning I picked up some swimmer's ear drops to try to relieve the pressure. Didn't work. I spent the whole day turning my head to the left so I could hear people out of my right ear. It was annoying. Thursday evening I picked up some ear wax removal drops wondering if maybe it was wax. That did not have any immediate impact. Friday morning I went to the doctors because I was starting to experience real pain and burning in my ear. The P.A. took one look into my ear and said "I cannot see any of your ear drum. You are completely blocked with wax. We'll flush it out." Ten minutes later a nice nurse came in and forced a stream of water into my ear. It hurt a lot and caused some bleeding. But the wax came out, and I couldn't believe how much better I could hear out of my left ear. So much so that my right ear now felt clogged, so the nurse flushed that one out, too. Not as painful, but almost as much wax out of my ear. I got sent home with some drops to use for the next week.

From Wednesday night through Friday morning I wondered skeptically that something serious was going on in my ear. A lot of my fears kicked in internally. I was grouchy, frustrated, and probably acting childish around the house. When I walked out of the doctor office, I wondered how in the world I could have gone through my days only hearing half as much as I did now. I jokingly said later to one of my co-workers that I no longer had an excuse to say "Huh?" to A* when she asked me a question. But as I walked to my car, I noticed something else - every click, ever high-pitched sound was intensified. The radio was way to loud and static all of the sudden hurt my ears with sharpness. Every key stroke (when I'm not wearing my earphones listening to iTunes) is magnified. I initially thought this was very odd.

When I came home, I noticed more clicks, more creaks in the floorboards, more intense sounds of silverware and glasses clanging together. I wanted to turn the volume down. And all of the sudden, it appeared that Amelia was crying through a microphone and sound system. It was piercing, not cute, like I still thought the day before. I suddenly wondered whether I was better off not hearing as well as I would have liked. I became grouchy, frustrated, and tried not to act too childish about this. I felt silly for wanting to complain about hearing too well.

As I've looked back on this whole experience, it makes me think of all of the times that I wanted to know some truth of a matter, wanting something to change, or wanting to have more importance in something and later finding out that maybe I shouldn't have wished for what I did. The same is true in relation to my faith and God. I quickly want to back out of such seeking of vigilance, truth, or change when God reveals more of His truth and the impact it has to my life, especially when it means that I need to step up my commitment. It is really a spiritual laziness that acts as a leaky faucet to the flow of faith I desire from the Spirit.

I don't want to be spiritually lazy. There is no joy in laziness, there is only self-pity. I want joy. I want fulfillment. Now that I can hear with my whole ears, I need to re-learn how to listen. And now that I recognize I am spiritually lazy, I need to re-commit my trust in God's plans, movements, and markings in the journey of my faith.

It is amazing to me sometimes just how energized I get with new music. I am amazed because while I call myself a musician, I actually spend little time anymore playing or writing music. It's quite sad for me to recognize this. My mind quickly comes up with very good reasons why I have spent little time playing or writing music, but it takes a good deal of my heart to not get too down about it.

I wrote yesterday about how much I connected with Snow Patrol's album Open Eyes. Today I brought in the album How to Save a Life by The Fray. I like this album just as much as Open Eyes, but I'm connecting with it much differently. As I listen to The Fray, it makes me really, really want to play in a band. It could be a worship band or a "rock" band, I don't know that it matters that much. In this album, I can hear the depths of the collaboration process of piano, guitars, and drums in their music. It is stirring something much different within me today. It's quite motivating. Actually, I have had similar experiences when getting a new Jars of Clay album, which was enhanced when I met them after a concert in Hershey.

At one time in my life, I thought that my brothers and I could be a band. The older of my two younger brothers took up the drums. I thought that would be a good start, but then our youngest brother also took up the drums, so that ended that dream. Plus then Hanson came out and was mocked mercilessly. The first younger brother did actually get into a band in college. They did quite well. They won a battle of the bands competition, and I think they opened up for some college-touring headliner brought in for a school event.

But even as I think back on that, I realize maybe how silly it is for me to want to be part of a band. I'm two months away from turning 30, what could honestly come from it? I really don't want much to come from it. I don't desire to be a famous musician or touring all over the place or anything. It's really about being part of the music creating and performing process, the collaboration, the give and take, the message within the music that lifts the words on our souls, the questioning, the mentioning, the celebrating, saying the things that aren't said anywhere else. Something like this from the song How to Save a Life:

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

To me, there has never been a better form of communication than music, with and without words. The right music set to words can make those words even more powerful than they already should be. Like these words of reconciliation from the song Over My Head (Cable Car):

I wish you were a stronger I could disengage
Say that we agree and then never change
Soften a bit until we all just get along
But that's disregard
Find another friend and you discard
As you lose the argument in a cable car
Hanging above as the canyon comes between

It is examples like this, when I listen to them, I get great desire to be able to communicate the same way. I know that I have a gift of music within me that not many others have. And I don't want to believe that I am wasting it. And I never want to look back with guilt that I missed opportunities to do more in music. Even with all that, as I listen to these new albums, it still comes back to the communication of the soul, the collaboration with other musical souls, and the message that comes out as a result. I hope that I can figure out how to do something with it.

I got the Snow Patrol album Open Eyes this weekend. I popped it into my laptop this morning at work, and it's all I've been listening to today. I really like it! This is definitely an album I could listen to over and over and not get tired. I am pretty picky about music that I can listen to over and over - the musician side of me requires quality. But as I wrote in a previous post, this band intrigues me. The CD has diverse musical styles to their songs, while still evident what connects each song into an album.

My brain paused in thinking what was the best word for what is the foundation of my appreciation of this album and then it hit me: authenticity. I connect with the lyrics in many ways, and the music enhances my experiencing the words which transcends other examples of words set to music. The song "Hands Open" is a perfect example of a connection for me. Here are some of the lyrics:

It's hard to argue when
You won't stop making sense
But my tongue still misbehaves
And it keeps digging my own grave
With my hands open
and my eyes open
I just keep hoping
That your heart opens

It's not as easy as willing it all to be right
Got to be more than hoping it's right
I want to hear you laugh like you really mean it
Collapse into me tired with joy

This is exactly what I feel everytime A* and I argue about something, with my own tongue digging my own grave, and then wishing it could be over just because I will it or hope it would. This is just a small example, but it is important.

In a different arena, I wonder why preaching in church generally lacks the same authenticity about life that popular music seems to have. A* and I were discussing the preaching at the church we've been attending with some friends, and I wondered aloud as I reiterated a point from Dear Church about how sermons are often disconnected from real life. Connecting it even further into our call to witness to others about Jesus, if we don't have a vibrant, real life relationship with Jesus day-to-day, which is not even reflected in our church leadership, then why even both talking about saving others from hell or making sure they are going to heaven? What do we really have to offer others if the church is stuck from connecting real life to the gospel and relationship with God? There is no authenticity about preaching salvation to someone's face if life is not fulfilled by that relationship with God we claim will save us.

As we continue to evaluate God's work in our life about specifically about church and community, I am reflecting on just how authenticity is in my own life, and if the music of my soul enhances the lyrics of my tongue to connect with others just like the connection I've had to this particular album.

I got another InterLibrary Loan request in today - a book called Dear Church: letters from a disillusioned generation. I'm excited to read it because not only do I think I fit into the subtitle, but the author states in the preface of the book that she hasn't given up on the Church. I find that remarkable in many ways, and I'm hoping that I can find some motivation to fuel my desire to stick to this Church thing. Hopefully I can find time to read this before it's due back.

When A* and I went to church on Sunday morning, it became very apparent to me that until we get plugged into a small group community (and I really hope that this church's small groups are communities), I am not going to be able to experience the transcendence into God's reality that I long for. It really hit home to me that it is within communities that I can really experience the relational level beyond the intellectual and emotional realities we are stuck in daily. We have some small pockets of that, which has been such a blessing, but I also know that we need to branch out. I am hoping that the point in which become fully vested within a community that our church experiences will transcend the physical act of "going to church" into the spiritual experience God calls us into.

In the meantime, which really means in the time I spend at work, there is a level of pain increasing over me. I have had a lingering migraine since Monday that has erupted today. The number of projects on my desk is almost overwhelming, and the number of distractions (read: meetings) suck the life and energy I have to progress in these projects. Some of the projects have lingered so much that I really need to spend larger quantities of time on them. But the number of projects that I'm responsible for prevent a quality of time that I really desire to put into each of them. I have a pretty good feeling that the level and length of my migraine this week is somewhat proportional to the stress of the week, and honestly, there is not much relief in sight. And to make it worse, it is really difficult to have the energy I need to care for my two A*s, the stuff around the house, and two dogs. Something is going to have to give... or better, I need spiritual refreshment with God.