merry manifesto

I want to write with abandon and vigor. Boldly penning words of hope, truth and joy. Words that snap, crackle, and pop as they fly across the page. Words that lead to action. Words like pugnacious, tenacious—opulent grace-filled pages of truth and hope. Words that inspire. Words that convict. Words that rip into the calloused flesh of patriarchal scars while rending to mend. For it is in our brokenness we can be healed. Cracks are how the light gets in—how the festering wound is cleansed as the infection below the surface oozes and is exposed. People may be repulsed—and they should be.

Oppression bends and breaks when the hunched backs begin to straighten. When the burdened cry-ENOUGH, when the marginalized come together. When the silenced shout. When every solitary person finds their “me too”.

For this is what Christmas brings—Christ’s coming signals a revolution—a baby threatened the king, a man—the empire, and yet, all of this was Emmanuel—God with us. My favorite Christmas song reminds us that “His law is love and his Gospel is peace”. Law is loving—boundaries are beneficial—they don’t limit life-they enhance it. Peace isn’t a cease fire-it’s a person—a man who entered into our wounded world. These are the words I want to write- words that may offend and pierce—a mere echo of God who was pierced FOR us.

I don’t know what this process will look like—I’m sure that it will be line any other journey. That my ideas and perceptions as I pen the first words will be a distant memory when I finish. I don’t know where this spark will lead me—but I know this new joy and new freedom will grow—one word, one post, one day at a time.

 

A Lesson in Grace from My Grandfather

Speeding down a sun-speckled Midwestern highway, a weathered hand pats my own “You keep writing, Elise. Write about your life, what happens to you. It’s your gift”. My eyes water at his affirmation, his love; his encouragement irrigating dry ground.

Earlier that day I peered through a cracked door to see him pouring over a book, pen poised to take notes. Upon entering the book-crammed study, I sigh and my heart echoes—so this this where I got it—the love for reading, studying, writing—it’s in my blood. As I settle into a well-worn chair, I can’t help but look around at the shelves spotted with photographs of family and friends. I know he prays for these people faithfully, daily; blood related by the cross.

Our roots lead to wings—sometimes to fly away from danger, sometimes to tether us to our calling. “You can’t pick your family”—some grin, many grimace.

“The place you start your journey is your anchor, the filter through which you process every single stop along the way…If, along the way, you realize you’ve been heading the wrong direction, you might change your trajectory, but you can’t change where you started” (Allison Fallon,Packing Light).

My eyes move from pages to photographs, glimpses of what matters to my grandfather. He is a man who has lived quite the journey. He’s the first to admit he’s not the man he once was, and his family echoes this. Grace is exemplified when a person knows they need it—when they, like David, from the heart say “against you only have I sinned” (Psalm 51).


Back on the cloud-shadow spotted road, my grandfather remarks “twenty years ago I never would have thought I would be ministering to sex offenders in prison, but the Lord has changed me”. We never know what events will change the course of our lives—when our hearts will be moved to speak or to be silent, when tragedy or triumph will mark our path. Yet, as I listened to my grandfather reminisce on life and change, I couldn’t help but be encouraged by grace—that sees our pride, our prejudice, our fear—the grace that knows our starting points, the families we’ve been placed into—and calls us to walk with Him. This grace doesn’t demand perfection—casting us away at the first inconvenience, mistake, or conflict—rather, it redeems in the most humble and humiliating way—by taking the punishment for our errors, our anger. The infinite entered time. His grace must be our starting point—it must be our anchor—He has adopted us as family—grace received leads to grace exemplified. Indeed, “His grace has brought us safe thus far, His grace will lead us home”

Let Love in--Part 2

Earlier today I began a separate post, one I hope to share in the, future, but it needs refining.

 I recently borrowed a friend’s copy of “Counterfeit Gods” by Tim Keller.  Read it at your own risk—for your own edification and joy. Throughout the work Keller expounds upon the idea that “the human heart is an idol factory” and how we tend to just deal with the surface idols—money, relationships, work success, instead of looking to the root—what our desire for those things is really pointing to. For instance, you and I could both have money as an idol—something that we find our sole sense of identity, security, and affirmation in. But—I could be using money because it makes me secure and in control of my environment (or so I think) and you could be using money to gain approval—so that others will applaud you and you can know you’re successful. The surface looks the same, but the roots are different.

While the book in its entirety impacted my life, my faith, my views; one section in particular kept coming back to me. In chapter 2, Keller articulates that “love is not all you need” by sharing the stories of Jacob and Leah. Both of them faced life unloved. Jacob spent most of his life looking to others for blessing—he stole the blessing from his twin, was cheated out of the woman he first loved by his father in law, and lived in fear. He was always looking to others to fulfill him and bless him. Likewise, Leah, who the Bible basically calls ugly, lived life in the shadow of her beautiful younger sister. Her own father gave her away in marriage to a man who didn’t love her. She thought she could earn her husband’s blessing and love by having children, but it never worked. In both of their lives they finally turned to God for blessing and love after many unfruitful years of trying to siphon it from others. With the birth of Judah, Leah finally said “now I know God has blessed me”—realizing that all along it was God’s love and favor she had been searching for. Keller further relates that “The text says that when the Lord saw that Leah was not loved, _he_ loved her. God was saying, 'I am the real bridegroom. I am the husband of the husbandless. I am the father of the fatherless”.  In my own life I can see how I have looked to others for acceptance and love—after the early years of being rejected by peers and friends, I spent much of my teenage and early adult years seeking to know that I had true friendships that were like the siblings I never had—I too tried to suck the love out of others or do things for them so they would love me—like Leah I have learned that it never satisfies and pushes others away. There was nothing Leah could do to make Jacob love her more or to make God love her less.  Similarly, Jacob spent his life taking blessing into his own hands—he learned from a young age that he had to fight for it, earn it, and do what it took to get it from others. I too, look back and see how I have spent much of my life trying to earn the unconditional love of God by proving myself to my parents, my bosses, my peers. I thought that if I could just be consistent enough, care enough, share enough—that THEN I would finally be treated that way by others. Like Jacob, I wrestled with others when really, it was God I needed to wrestle with. In Jacob’s story he finally turns to God on the eve of the night that he thinks is his last—his brother Esau is coming toward him and he is certain that this is it—the ultimate rejection by family and retaliation for his past. In the night a man approaches him and they fight—in the midst of it Jacob is told it is God—and instead of fearfully cowering, Jacob clings. He finally fights for the blessing he’s been looking for and tells God that “he won’t let go until You bless me”. As Keller relates “Jacob finally looked to God for blessing”. The approval of others—the encouragement from my parents, the social media rat race, the academic achievement—all of it will fail, all of it is a vicious cycle that never satisfies. People will come through and then fail me, encourage and then tear down.


You see, I do need to let love in—the one who IS love. Who created me to delight in, not deify, the love and approval of others. What we do here is an echo of eternity, the one who loves. It’s time to let Love in. 

Heart Springs

This is nothing profound or even really my own, just a collection of writing, photos, words that have brought the season of spring to my heart recently.



Greg Lucas and his son, Jacob
 This post by Greg Lucas
 



“Spring shows what God can do with a drab and dirty world.”
― Virgil Kraft

Things my Kindergarteners say: "Miss Elise, do you sneeze when the flowers come out?" I replied "yes, I get stuffy" student: "....like a stuffed animal?"
One of my students spitting out a boysenberry because they thought I said poison berry.

Fieldtrips where I get paid to wander around the arboretum with a dozen adorable kiddos.
 Visiting old workplaces, time with friends, an extra evening with no class this quarter,

"His power may be capable of healing my eyes and filling in your missing pieces, but His authority may not deem it best. I'm learning to respectfully trust His authority as much as I trust His power"- Jennifer Rothschild Missing Pieces

Wanting to be noticed

               It was while I was scrolling through my pinterest boards, looking for some witty quote or funny picture; something that grabbed my attention, made me laugh or think about a profound truth—that I realized the action was a glimpse of how I want to be noticed.

So much of what we do in life is to be applauded, to be noticed—to get a pat on the back, a “like”, a recognition that our presence is perceived, appreciated. I’m willing to go so far as to say that EVERYTHING we do is to be noticed—we gain or lose weight, change our hair, write a blog post, pursue that degree, date that guy, whatever it takes to share life with someone. We yearn for unity, common ground, a group, a message, a place in the world.

The sad truth is that each moment of attention is fleeting—“the Rachel” becomes a 90’s-has-been-fad, the relationship sours, the weight comes on—and we’re left back at square one. Now what—how can I grab people’s attention, how can I keep it, how do I know I am valued, when have I done enough? These questions plague and drive us. What’s the point?

As I bit into a burrito, the simply profound, and maybe ridiculous thought hit me—I am noticed and loved—Jesus knows I love chicken burritos, he knows my desires, my heart, my motivations (the good, bad, the downright ugly) and still keeps me as the apple of his eye.

I may not have the flattest abs, the letters in front of my name, the family I hope to have—but I am still loved, cherished, noticed.

"Packing Light”—an invitation

“God wasn’t telling me what to do. He was just helping me see what I actually wanted. He was saying ‘here’s permission to want what you want, regardless of what anyone else thinks. Here’s permission to be the woman I created you to be. You think you don’t have the resources, but you do.  I will provide them. You think you aren’t strong enough to face the obstacles, but you are. I’ll be with you the whole time.  Here’s permission to live your life, not dictated by fear of what might happen…”’—Packing Light by Ally Vesterfelt

As someone who loves writing, travel, and bursts of introverted reflection—I was eager to read, and honored to participate in the pre-release publicity and review of writer Ally Vesterfelt’s “Packing Light”. It is an honest, thought-provoking, and inspiring account of personal growth and perspective. Ally writes of a six month fifty state road trip with her musician friend Sharaya; but the book is more about the journey of life and the impact that our outlook has on our experiences and choices than it is about miles and states.

                Throughout the book, Vesterfelt transparently articulates the many ways in which the theme of “packing light” infiltrated her life—beginning literally with packing for the trip and culminating in the ways she learned to “pack light” emotionally, spiritually, and relationally. I read this book in two sittings—eagerly absorbing the universal lessons and truths such as “most of life is not an outcome. Most of life is unfolding on the road in front of us. The “outcome” can change as fast as the scenery” (p.90), that I was invited to incorporate in my own life and journeys. Ally Vesterfelt is a writer with a clear vision and voice—I felt as though we were old friends catching up over coffee on a drizzly north-west afternoon.

While “Packing Light” is driven by the travel experience, the real message is that of the necessity to journey in growth and the freedom that comes from “packing light” whether or not you leave your hometown.  Even if you’re a home-body; the book gently but firmly challenges complacence and the god of comfort that so subtly hold us back from articulating and pursuing our God-given desires and dreams. Vesterfelt artfully interweaves the Biblical narrative of the “rich young ruler” to further exhort the reader to pursue their dreams and address the self-made walls that keep us from beginning them.

                Overall, this book is one that I know will become dog-eared , heavily underlined, and infiltrate my conversations in the weeks, months, and years to come. What is most unique about Vesterfelt’s piece is that she understands both the hesitance and fear of pursuing our buried dreams as well as the freedom that comes from beginning them—in many ways interweaving the truth that “If we want to be truly alive, truly awake to the reality of the world around us, packing light will be a continued, daily struggle” (p.237).  It is through her transparent narrative Vesterfelt invites us to recognize and live out that “you have a message too, and it’s important because it’s yours” (p.243).

                In conclusion, I encourage everyone to make room and time for “Packing Light”.  It will challenge you to reconsider and to work to achieve your dreams while “unpacking” the things that hold you back, As Vesterfelt remarks, “...you’re the only one who has your ideas, your legacy. If you don’t do something about them, no one will” (p.244).

 

Please check out: packinglightbook.com

 

The book, Packing Light, is available for purchase HERE and Here too!!

**I was not paid to write this review**

Trust Him in the Process--From A to B

photo by James Briggs

One of the things I love about great writing is that it inspires me to write—it connects old convictions and current changes that are just waiting to be woven together. Tonight, as I finished up “Packinglight” by Ally Vesterfelt, she reflected that

“Sometimes I think we get hung up on objectives, and it makes us too hard on ourselves…but what if the point isn’t the end product? Or what if the end product isn’t what we thought it was? What if the point is the trip, and the end product is us? (p.231).

This quote reminded me of a previous post, last summer, from my time in Kenya, titled “Trust Him in the process” where I discussed how the months I spent in Kenya were less about “wow I made it” and more about how God was changing me and taking me somewhere that was more about my heart than my passport. The journey, not the destination is what changes us. Additionally, I wrote about the precious girl from Kibera who didn’t know English or Swahili—who I spent over an hour trying to help her grasp the concepts of A and B.

Only tonight, in light of Ally’s writing; I was struck by the actual process of teaching her those concepts. It was confusing, neither of us really knew where to start—it’s hard to begin when you don’t know where you’re going. But you miss so much if you let the unknown keep you from trying. It was cognitively and physically messy—my mind spun with the tricks up my sleeves from the amazing early childhood school I worked at the years before—while the locals and teachers looked on with amused skepticism as I motioned and modeled clapping, jumping, and finally three concise hand motions to represent “A, ahh, apple”. By the end of my two months she was able to have a brief conversation and read two and three letter words.

I have to wonder, other than the “not knowing where to start or where we’re going” if God is like that with me. Metaphorically clapping, jumping, stomping “Here I am, look! I am willing to do what it takes for you to see me, hear me, know what I am trying to tell you”. Thankfully, He is eternally patient and infinitely wise in His ways. If either she or I had given up—had been unwilling to clap, stomp, try new and scary things that looked and felt funny—we would have missed out on “A” and never gotten to “B”.  Similarly, if you, I, and Ally are or in the past had been unwilling to step out of our comfort zones—what would we miss? Sure, A to B isn’t always clear or quick—but it’s the process, not simply the place that’s important.

Inspire Project: A little R&R2

   Not THAT R&R…I mean, Rest & Repentance/Remembrance…hence the R squared.

This past week really inspired all of those things. One factor was the continuation of a long term substitute position that means my days are completely full from 6:30 AM to 6:30 PM. I have realized how much I need rest and to be intentional about scheduling in things that are restful and rejuvenating—like daily exercise and taking time to read and journal. I need those habits to stay rested and to be recharged for the next day. In addition, in a Wilberforce book I’ve been reading (but sadly had to return to the library before finishing…) Real Christianity, he relates the importance of taking adequate time to be refreshed and to study scripture. Even though he wrote the book over 200 years ago, it rings true when he states that “so often people think their leisure time must be spent in mindless things to be restful…we think studying the scripture is too serious and weighty to be refreshing…when actually spiritual refreshment through study is what we need” (MY paraphrase). SO true—I have to be intentional (and I’ve been failing miserably the last few weeks with the new schedule) in carving out time in my busy day to read and to simply rest.  Thankfully, each week it has gotten easier to get up early, and my energy hasn’t dragged as much in the mid afternoon. I keep reminding myself that it is always a blessing, that God is in the small things—like all the little victories with the kids each day—and that while this is a huge benefit for grad school—there is purpose in it for today.

Another part of this week’s inspiration and lessons has been the reminder that I need to live in repentance and remembrance. Through journaling, reading that trusty Wilberforce book, and the sermon on Sunday, I was reminded of  Isaiah 30:15-“This is what the Sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel, says: “In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength, but you would have none of it” (NIV). How true this is of me—so easily forsaking times of quiet, solitude, and yes—self-reflection that leads to new goals, humility, and repentance for ways I have been selfish, cowardly, prideful. Today, as I made time to work out physically—my thoughts wandered to this verse and I realized that in many translations repentance means “returning”. Yes—when I do take the time to reflect and repent—I return to so many things—peace, joy, hope, contentment—all because I have put my Savior in His rightful place—first. I return to him and gain perspective this allows me to rest. Rest because I don’t have to get it right, be perfect.

For the third R—remembrance—well, I’ve just had a week of strong memories of Kenya—the hard red dirt beneath my feet, the sound of sporadic building projects in my neighborhood, the smell after a hard rain, the view from the tree house, the feeling of being bombarded with hugs and showered with “how are you”. I have also been flooded with many bittersweet memories—full of people I can’t make new ones with—a reminder that this life is short, tomorrow is not guaranteed, I don’t want to waste it.  One of my good friends remarked yesterday that one of the changes she sees in me since coming home is that I do take more time to rest and that it is so counter-culture because us Westerners deny the truth that rest isn't wasted time. I have been inspired to plan for the future in prayer and in hope—knowing that this day isn’t just a stepping stone on the way to the dreams I hope to live out—it’s a part of it, today matters. Today I must choose to rest, repent, and remember.

 

Full Week, Full of inspiration--update 3

         I apologize for the lack of updates. Last week was my first full week in a self-contained elementary classroom. I also continued to work with the family. Man, I worked more hours in the first three days of the week than I had in the last 3 weeks! I am so blessed! It was a routine shake up for sure--waking up at 6:25 is not something my body is used to. I was so encouraged and inspired as I worked in a new setting. I was also reminded to be SO grateful for the past--my previous position prepared me in incredible ways for working in the school districts. It was an invaluable experience that I humbly gave thanks for last week.
        I also was inspired by seeing the new kids grow and continue to work hard each day. It is incredible to see how far they come with repetition and hard work--something we can all learn from. Similarly, I was inspired to remember that each life is valuable and special. We all have things that no other human posesses in quite the same way. The precious kids with special needs that I work with remind me daily that we need the special. We need to be reminded by their example that asking for help is a sign of strength, that we all see the world a little bit dfferently and that should cause us to ask questions, to be humble, and to be willing to learn from others.
        I was inspired to persevere--just like the ways the kids work on their tasks and are (mostly) willing to be led and prompted--I need to take heed of that--remembering that I need guidance too.

Overall, I was incredibly inspired last week and I can't wait to see where the next 6 weeks take me.

How does your job inspire you?

Reciprocal Inspiration

Inspire: to influence, move, or guide by divine or supernatural; to exert an animating, enlivening, or exalting influence on.

                As I have been reflecting on what inspiring looks like the past week, I have realized that it has to be reciprocal. I can’t simply seek to influence those around me—I have to take time to be poured into so I have something to give.

 My church has been focusing on fasting this month and one thing that I realized as I took 24 hours away from social media/internet/television and from carbohydrates, was just how busy and cluttered my day is when I fill it with the hollow entertainment of television and how much more prone I am to get myself into a “comparison riddled despair” when I compare everyone else’s “highlight reel on facebook” to my own behind the scenes. That’s not healthy…I also was reminded of the precious children I know by name who may not have a single decent meal in a week—and just how insanely blessed I am to live in a country of abundance.

In light of those reflections, I wanted to share a few of the things that inspire me. In no particular order—here goes:

Reading—anything by C.S. Lewis, John Piper, or Jan Karon (see the Mitford series),of course, the Bible

Nature—taking a walk, watching a sunset, or simply staring at a flower longer than 2 seconds can be such a refreshing thing to do. I want to commit to do more of this.


Creating—writing, painting, making “do it yourself” decorating projects


Listening—to my Savior as he writes his words on my heart, speaks them through my circumstances, or shows me in the love of friends and family. Especially to a good friend over a cup of coffee or tea at unique "hole in the wall" place around Seattle
 

My job—working with Children with special needs is SO inspiring—there’s nothing quite like the triumphant smile or the shared joy that comes from seeing a child be able to do something they couldn’t the day before.


Today, before heading into a very busy week—the first full scheduled week since returning from Kenya, I want to remember that while inspiration takes time, it doesn’t take much to make a difference.

 

What inspires you?

Inspire Project Update

Here are some snippets of how I was inspired this weekend and today.

2/2-Saturday- It is hard to put into words how humbling and inspiring Gib Martin's Funeral was. Before we went I knew I had somewhere to be at 6, and the funeral started at 1, and I thought to myself "yeah...I may be home in time". Sure enough, we got home around 5:30. Yes, the service was 2 hours, but it was incredible. From the honest memories, the touching tributes, and the fact that there were anywhere from 600 to 800 people present, it was a moving afternoon! After the service many stuck around to re-connect with "family" and it was amazing to see.
  I was inspired to live my life in a way that matters, as a person who takes time for others and who genuinely cares about their welfare. Inspiring to say the least. I hope I was able to encourage Gib's family as well as the others I reconnected with.  Inspiring is a two way street, you have to take a step, reach out a hand, speak a word. Inspiring is intentional action!

2/3-Sunday- I was blessed to watch my pastor's kids before the church service and it was such an opportunity to encourage and affirm them.

2/4-Monday- I was inspired because I was able to spend more time in the profession I love--working with children with special needs in an elementary setting. I have been blown away by how many doors have been recently opened for me to ease back into the school setting, I don't take it for granted, or lightly, that I have been called and trained to help these kids grow and succeed. There are many milestones--from riding a bike to counting to 7.

I can't wait to see what the rest of the week holds.

The INSPIRE Project

The INSPIRE Project

    As I drove to work after a blessing-packed morning—brunch with my mom, stopping by my “second family” aka I practically grew up at their house, and generally enjoying the partly sunny Seattle day—I realized I had been inspired.  My morning had rejuvenated my soul because I took time. I made a point of having conversation, connecting, appreciating delicious food and scenic Puget Sound. My next thought was that I was inspired because each of those things was shared with others. I want to keep this going.

                I’m not big on resolutions, but I want to try something for this month, the shortest one of the year, the one that supposedly represents love (as if candy hearts and chocolate exemplify true love), to live out inspiration. I want to continue to be inspired and to pay it forward. For the next 27 days I will commit to inspiring one person in one small way, each day. From notes, to calls, to inexpensive gifts, or acknowledging and affirming a dream or passion, I want to inspire.

                As I exited the freeway, I also thought through the “why” of this personal challenge. What is my motivation? A pat on the back? To make the world a little bit happier? Both? I think it’s much deeper than that. I am most inspired by my faith—by the savior that gave his LIFE so that I could live. In a small way, this inspiration project is mirroring that. I can’t wait to see what the next month does for my soul as I seek to serve and to inspire.

 

Who’s with me?

 

My desire is for you to join in, and if you do…pass it on, inspire others to inspire. Let’s make this the month of living love, not just a day. I would love to hear your stories, what inspires you and what intentionally looking to inspire others teaches you. Post in the comments section and keep this going. I will be posting updates weekly as the month continues.