Seven Days

How is it something comes on you so fast, even when you've been longing for it for so long?

In just seven days, Megan and I will be on a plane, heading for Thailand. Seven days!

Seven days to the mango smoothies made by the lady in the roadside stand. Seven days to rice for breakfast, lunch and supper. Seven days to vicious humidity and tropical bugs. Seven days to nothing but flip flops on red dirt outside, and bare feet on clean, cool ceramic tile, inside.

Seven days to geckos and almost wild dogs and orchids everywhere. And crazy driving on the wrong side of the road and white water buffalo grazing in oblivion by the sides of the road.

Seven days until the children. The children. It scares me sometimes how much I am long for them all. With seven days to go I am eager for little hugging reunions and shy wai's.

Seven days until I am sitting under the roof of the outdoor dining space at Hot Springs, talking with our kids, playing games, practicing my Thai, watching them in wonder....that I get to be there again.

Seven days until the piece of my heart that stays there can be connected again with the rest of me.

I am most certainly the richest woman on the planet. I must be, because here I am again, packing for Thailand. How is it I am allowed to go again? What lavish gift is this? I am undeserving. I bring so little to the table compared to the overwhelming abundance that comes pouring out to me when I'm there.

Seven days.

Your Thoughts Please

Dear Blog Followers,

As this week's sermon is coming together, it would help me a lot if you'd take a moment to write to me about how blogging, reading or writing of, enriches or complicates your relationships and/or your communications.

Point form is fine, or something longer if you like.

You can use the Comments feature on this blog, or email me at rabreithaupt@buidingbiggerhearts.ca.

I'll post anything you give me permission to publish.

Thanks!

Talk about Talking

It's been great to engage in some on line dialogue about dialogue and have some good communication about communicating these past few days.

One person responded privately to me through email with some excellent comments (and some solid encouragements too, thanks). They had very good recommendations on readings and links that I'd like to pass along.

"One of my favourite courses, linguistics, included a paper and book by Deborah Tannen http://www9.georgetown.edu/faculty/tannend/book_thats_not_what.html about turn taking / communication styles. Her writings include such books as:

That's Not What I Meant! how conversational style makes or breaks relationships,

You Just Don't Understand: Women & Men in Conversation

I Only Say This Because I Love You: How the Way We Talk Can Make or Break Family Relationships Throughout Our Lives,

and You Were Always Mom's Favorite: Sisters in Conversation Throughout Their Lives"

Tomorrow, we're heading into three weeks of talking about talking, in our Sunday morning series.

I've had a fascinating week, as God has interacted with me energetically, deeply about the give and take, humility and complexities of my communications with those around me. I'm learning a lot....at least I hope I am.

If anyone has any more thoughts, comments, experiences in their communication adventures, I'd love to hear about them.

What Did She Say?

I find it fascinating that we're about to launch into a new series on communication at Highview, and I've had no less than four people in the last 24 hours bring to my attention some aspect of something I've said that hasn't been properly spoke.

Something I said or otherwise communicated did not go over well, was misunderstood, or poorly explained. Offense, hurt feelings, confusion.

Every one of the four people came to me with a great attitude, by the way. Makes it so much easier, and I so appreciated that. But by this point in the day, now that I've had a chance to ruminate on things, it's starting to pool in my soul and feel bigger than maybe it is.

Man, I hate it when this happens! Why is this whole business of 'message sent/message received' so very hard to do? Why is it that even when I think my heart is in the right place, my mouth is somewhere else?

About 10 years ago now, I was the driver for a car ride home for Ken's parents, both of whom were hard of hearing. We were bringing them back to the city from the cottage following a first time observation that they were not likely safe to be left on their own any more. The decision to shorten their time there had been made just the day before. It had taken diplomacy and tact, but the conversations leading up to this were still difficult.

And now the car ride, at the beginning anyways, was a quiet one. Ken was in our van, with all our holiday belongings and the two kids and the dog. I played driver for the two who didn't really think they needed to come home but had agreed to it anyways.

Part way home, Mother, who was in the back seat, asks Father, "Did you lock the back kitchen door?"

Father, who was in the passenger seat beside me, turns to me and says, "What did she say?"

I speak a little louder and say, "She said, Did you lock the back kitchen door?"

"Yes," he replies.

"What did he say?", Mother says from the back.

I increase my volume. "He said, Yes! He locked the back door!"

Silence for a bit. Then Mother speaks up again.

"Did he put the potatoes in the cupboard?"

"What did she say?" Father asks?

I speak loudly again. "She said, Did you put the potatoes in the cupboard?"

Ever notice that it's hard not to sound annoyed when you're repeating something louder?

Father replies simply, "Yes."

"What did he say?"

"HE SAID, YES. THE POTATOES ARE PUT AWAY!"

No comment from Mother, and we ride quietly again for just a few seconds. Then Father says to me, "She worries too much."

"What did he say?"

"HE SAID, HE THINKS YOU ARE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IN THE WORLD!!"

Mother grunts from the back seat. "Did not."

No, that's not what he said. And in that case it was a deliberate misinterpretation on my part, but still meant to communicate something light and fun and endearing. They got it by the way, and it eased the tension a bit.

That day in the car, acting as interpreter for two stressed, hard of hearing, very much loved and getting older parents, I didn't do too badly. They talked "through" me the entire ride, and we got on just fine. In fact, it remains one of the fondest memories I have of them together.

But of late, I'm not doing so fine in the interpretation and/or communication department, it would seem. For some I talk too much, for others I'm not connecting enough, and for others I'm saying stuff that's less than helpful, shall we say. And like I said, I'm grateful that this comes to me in the context of community and grace, which ironically makes it easier for me to listen, seek to make amends, and look for ways to improve. At least that's what I intend to do with what's been communicated to me. I hope. If I don't let it pool too much and instead focus on how this could help me be more of who I want to be.

James talks about being "quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry." Sounds like a good formula. Sounds like who I want to be.

So, to help me in my learnings, I'd really be interested in anyone's stories or definitions or general thoughts about effective, healthy communication.

Meanwhile, if I've said anything lately.....

Unexplaining

How do you explain it?

This wild and way out there idea that Jesus of Nazareth, lived and died…lay in a tomb for three days….and then walked out. Alive. Not dead any more. But fully alive. More alive, even, than before he was killed on that cross.

That’s the outrageous claim of four ancient documents that we know today as the Gospels.

That’s the story that followers of Christ all over the world, all through these past two thousand years, starting from that very first century, have claimed as their pivotal truth.

Jesus died, was buried and rose again.

How do you explain it?

If you’re Canadian journalist and ecologist Rex Weyler, author of the book The Jesus Sayings you would describe a “radical, Aramaic-speaking, Jewish Jesus” who made no divine claims, required no supernatural beliefs from his audience, and demanded action in the here and now. Weyler’s Jesus had little to do with eternity. It was people later on who imposed that on his story. For Weyler, a resurrection isn’t necessary to follow Jesus.

If you’re York University professor Barrie Wilson, author of the book How Jesus Became Christian, you follow that line of thinking and regard Jesus as a Jewish rabbi essentially hijacked by “Christifiers”, overly zealous religious people trying to make Jesus something he was not. For Wilson, the resurrection is just a wild story Jesus’ followers made up to help push their own agenda and gain a following.

If you’re Tom Harper, described as Canada's best known spiritual author, journalist, and TV host, and the author of The Pagan Christ, Jesus didn’t even exist at all. He was instead a mythological figure, not unlike stories found in ancient Egypt and other pagan cultures. For Harper the resurrection is part of the myth.

And if you’re Andrew Lloyd Webber, creative genius and well known writer of so many well loved musicals…Jesus Christ Superstar being just one….Jesus was a first century rabbi that let things get “so out of hand”. So much so that Judas becomes the hero when he puts an end to the dangerous nonsense by turning Jesus into the authorities. For Webber, there is no resurrection at all. Just the crazed and desperate imaginings of grief stricken disciples.

And there are other explanations. You probably know some. The swoon theory, the mistaken tomb theory, the disciples stole the body theory.

Over time, this incredible story has had so much scrutiny, so many attempts to explain it.

So…how do you explain it?

The truth is, I think the idea is beyond explanation.

Sort of like, why I’m even here this morning.

When I look back at my life, and some of the things I’ve been through, there’s no explanation for that either. That I would even be here, Easter Sunday morning 2010. When I consider the enormity of some of the things that have come at me, and their potential to destroy me. I should not be here this morning. And I’m not overstating that.

Some of what has come at me was my own doing. Like when my desperate need for control and perfection, my abject terror at the mere whiff of failing, my desire for approval and status, had me on self destruct, working insanely.

To the point where I became completely depleted of all my own resources…face down in the muck of my own doings, completely exhausted and totally unable to rescue myself.

Some of what’s come at me has not been my own doing, but the results of what others have brought to my life.

I have been crumpled on the floor in excruciating grief. Knocked flat by unspeakable breaches of trust. Struck down by unimaginable betrayals at the deepest core level of who I am. Laid waste by hatred. Crushed by despair. All of it rendering me helpless. At times, looking for that ultimate escape.

So technically, realistically, I shouldn’t be here. But I am. And I have no explanation for that…except this. Jesus is alive.

Yes, I’ve read the books, I’ve chased down some controversies, I’ve read and watched The DaVinci Code. I know that the resurrection of Jesus Christ is really hard to explain.

And I can’t explain it in any other way except to take at face value. Because I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it’s the same power that raised Jesus from the dead that gives me what I need to live.

And to live big. Not just merely surviving the devastations of my story, but to be lifted up and out of them by a power way beyond myself to higher places of strength and joy and becoming and life! And all without any of my life circumstances changing.

I was helpless. No power of my own. But a power was given to me. The power to live.

And I know your stories would bring the same evidence of that same power. That many of you here this morning know the same thing I know. We shouldn’t be here. Except there’s a power that’s been poured into our living that makes it possible, makes it amazing.

How do you explain it?

I don’t think you do.

I think maybe you just claim it.

And echo the words of Paul from his letter to the Philippians in chapter 3.

⁷But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. ⁸What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ ⁹and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith. ¹⁰I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, ¹¹and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead.

It's my only explanation for my life.