BECOMING THE BELOVED - 3. BROKEN

It's not how broken we are. It's how we are broken.


Each one of us are broken, there are no two ways about it. This reality is far from being a reality that we can deny or dismiss, without also denying or dismissing our own humanity. We are simply broken in unique ways. To look at a person's brokenness is to discover who that person is. In it, we discover the essence of his/her being. Nouwen writes, "...our brokenness reveals something about who we are."


That no one is exempt from a state of brokenness is humanity's shared reality. But that's where it stops. For if you can recognize that each individual's suffering and pain is indeed unique, in that it both defines and is defined by who that individual is, then we cannot say this shared reality is truly shared. How much can you truly understand of another's pain, in spite of hundreds of similarities you can find, as though you are that person going through that pain at that moment?


I've always found it hard to bring myself to say in response to a friend sharing a struggle, "I know exactly how you feel." The truth is, if a friend were to say that to me when I am going through a hard time, I doubt I would believe it, much less feel consoled in a significant way. Perhaps there is value is attempting to match someone's suffering to our own, in the hope of bridging emotional distance or what not. But to say I can know how a person feels exactly, that seems too presumptious - doesn't it?


A conversation I had with three other friends on Christmas Eve was on the issue of pain. One of them said the feelings can be numbed by keeping the mind occupied on anything other than the cause of that pain. "Just don't think about it!" Isn't that what many of us do, when we find our pain too heavy a cross to bear, when life needs to go on and we have no choice but to "move on". I can't quite articulate the sadness I felt in my heart to hear that being said, mostly because I knew how true it is. Sadly. We cover our pain over days, months, years. We ignore it. We bury it. We try to kill it. But we remain broken.


My response to that friend, although not very well-articulated, was that the reason many, many songs are so powerful is that they are expressions of encountering, contemplating and living through pain. Sometimes, deep pain. Was not the human heart created to feel? And is not brokenness the very way our hearts are tenderized? Joy is greater joy, sorrow greater sorrow, when we are broken and do not run away from it. Painkillers don't work on broken hearts. Encountering our unique brokenness - that's what brings true healing. There was a day when I was lying on my back in the Spanish village in Balboa Park (spring break roadtrip with Laura), listening to a guitarist under a tree, asking God questions from my Pandora jar of a brain. Then came one of the most stunning moments I felt God speak to me clearly - "Healing is made complete when you dare to love even when it hurts." God was calling me to wholenes that is found not by avoiding pain but by knowing He is in control amidst pain, and that I can walk through my pain assured I am never alone. Maybe no one can understand, even those who say "Oh! I understand exactly how you feel." And that's okay. 


If our brokenness is telltale of who we are, then my brokenness shouts my darkest fears. Fear of the unknown. Fear of death. Fear of being alone. Fear of people's expectations and demands. Fear of failure. Fear of success. My God! So many fears! I don't run. I don't hide. I meet Him in the secret place...He tells me I'm His Beloved. I belong to Him. I am broken but wholly surrendered...

Jeremy Riddle - Sweetly Broken
From the album Sweetly Broken
To the cross I look, to the cross I cling
Of its suffering I do drink
Of its work I do sing

For on it my Savior both bruised and crushed
Showed that God is love
And God is just

Chorus:
At the cross You beckon me
You draw me gently to my knees, and I am
Lost for words, so lost in love,
I’m sweetly broken, wholly surrendered

What a priceless gift, undeserved life
Have I been given
Through Christ crucified

You’ve called me out of death
You’ve called me into life
And I was under Your wrath
Now through the cross I’m reconciled

Chorus:

In awe of the cross I must confess
How wondrous Your redeeming love and
How great is Your faithfulness

...Interestingly, the Pandora jar we hear of (or the more popular term "Pandora's box") speaks of hope beneath mayhem. Mayhem was released because of Pandora's curiosity, out of a jar she possessed, which were "all of the evils, ills, diseases". But "at the very bottom of her jar, there lay hope." (see Wikipedia, "Pandora's box"). Of course, you may or may not like Greek mythology. But I cannot help but delight at the thought that beneath all the mayhem of life, our hurts and pains, our trivial pursuits, our broken dreams, there lies hope in what is eternal. Hope that is greater hope - because brokenness is not our ultimate enemy. Our not knowing whose we are is what makes brokenness ruin us. So I rejoice in that hope! In all these things, "we are more than conquerors through him who loved us" (Rom 8:37).


Who we are determines how we are broken. Our becoming the Beloved transforms who we are, which in turn transforms our ashes into beauty...
Mourning into dancing...
Sorrow into joy!

Christmas pause

It's been two days since my last chapter. But it's been a good two days of Christmas. Jesus Christ, Son of God, Son of Man. How inconceivable. I shall continue to breathe in the wonderment that surrounds this season - in commemoration and celebration of when the Creator chose to be part of his creation, compelled by an unfathomable kind of love. One final week remains of this year. No, make that five days. I will that these five days be steeped in thankful remembrance and reflective planning.


With that, I shall now lay my head to rest yet another night and return to unhurried ponderance on "Brokenness" in continuation of Nouwen's Beloved.

BECOMING THE BELOVED - 1. TAKEN

So the aim was to blog a chapter a day. I usually end up blogging only at the end of my day, right before I sleep, as a reflection exercise. For some reason, the blogspot clock doesn't follow my sleep hours or when I think the day should officially end; my post tonight, for example, should show tonight's date, but blogspot would argue it's already tomorrow. Oh well...

Today I read the section Taken, the first of four parts in the chapter Becoming the Beloved. The part that kicked me (yes, I used the word "kicked") was this: to be chosen as the Beloved of God does not exclude others. Instead, it includes others. That's kinda neat. I've never quite thought of it that way. Which is great! So it was a thought to ponder on.

Do you think persons around you feel included, or out of your radar? Do people know that you know your Belovedness, and that you know theirs, too? Hmm. How does our Belovedness include others? Or rather, how does our Being and Becoming the Beloved cause others to feel accepted and belonged and secure around us? As a matter of fact, do we think it can have that effect?

Fascinating.

Instead of making others feel threatened or rejected or unworthy, my walking around just being the Beloved creates an environment for them to experience their own Belovedness while I experience mine. Isn't that awesome??! I simply enjoy the fact that I am deeply cherished and valued (makes you wonder what that looks like, doesn't it?) --- and trust that somehow that rubs off on people, 'cause they become drawn into this environment that breathes life into them so they too can respond to that deep inner voice that calls, "You are the Beloved." It's no fun to be around someone who hates him/herself and is constantly either putting him/herself down OR putting you down to make him/herself feel better. So it's almost like, picture this: you're going around living life, letting yourself be loved and giving generously and just as graciously the love you receive to those whom you encounter.

That is how we understand the word 'chosen', to be set apart and somehow shine in quality and distinctiveness.
Yet not for competition, but for compassion.
Not for exclusion of others, but inclusion.
Not for rejection of anything less than perfection, but acceptance of all that needs perfection.

So ends another night. And by my decree, this post is dated Dec 21, the first day of winter. All is calm...time to sleep.

Paradise Lost

There was a time when I felt like everything could be sussed out. That if I try hard enough, anything could be figured out. I just need to find out and do my research and all that. Of course, that belief was quickly put to rest. Or rather, it was a myth quickly dispelled. Although I don't necessarily think that way anymore, I still however believe that there's a lot we can find out if we care to try.


You see, it goes without saying that what we know more about impacts what we are concerned about. When you learn more about the injustice done to children who born into prostitution, it is hard not to feel a certain level of sadness and horror inside. One cannot help but ask "why?" or at least pause for a moment in quiet sobriety.


In the Life of the Beloved, Nouwen speaks of all human beings having "deep inner memories of paradise lost". That deep inside, we once held something that we all have lost and are now searching for. How would we crave love, if we never tasted it? How could we possibly conceive of the concept of right or wrong, if we never had a sense for it? In essence, perhaps humankind can only look for something that it has experienced before to some degree. I cannot yearn for home if I don't have the slightest idea of what home is. You cannot understand what happiness is if you had no prior contact with the notion or imagery of it. Yes, perhaps this is true.


If so, I wonder, in our empathy for others, the anger against the injustice that we hear of - how much of that is conditioned by our own experiences of how justice should be. It's unavoidable, but it's also a projection based on our perception of reality. I am in no way downplaying the importance of empathy! I am merely seeing from an angle that may show more of how the way we respond to others' troubles and hardships is very much dependent on our own experiences rather than those with whom we empathize. Because we have experienced the 'opposite', it pains us to see others go through it. Because we have known unconditional love, we cannot bear to know of a friend who thinks his or her life is a waste and is dispensable. Because we have seen the amazingness of God's grace in the giving of his Son and the forgiveness of our sins, surely it is too hard to sit and watch a loved one suffer in self-rejection and guilt and shame.


Do we each have a reclaimed slice of paradise once known to humanity that now remains non-existent in so many people's lives? Do each of us carry this slice of paradise lost that can speak to another person's deep inner memories, like a missing piece to the half-completed puzzle? Do I, being the Beloved that I am and in my journey of Becoming this Beloved, get to reclaim more and more of this paradise that we all somehow lost, and as such get to offer to others through my gift of Belovedness? If yes, that's a reason to wake up every morning with a song in my heart and a smile on my face...to think that simply in my receiving and giving love, I am part of reconstructing this paradise. One that we once knew, a very long time ago, the "deep inner memories" of which are betrayed by our inner yearnings for its very taste.


Tomorrow I shall continue with my daily reading and reflection...as Nouwen goes on to talk about Becoming the Beloved, in being TAKEN, BLESSED, BROKEN and GIVEN.

and then the Becoming.

"From the moment we claim the truth of being the Beloved, we are faced with the call to become who we are."


This statement resonates so much with what I have heard and said so many times over. It's a question of identity. A person who is of royal lineage but doesn't know it lives quite differently from another who has royal blood and knows it. That person carries himself or herself with an aura not like other people. There's just something about him/her.


Question: when you know you are Beloved, how do you carry yourself? It's one thing to know your identity. It's another to have it manifested in a tangible way. Like, it's oozes out of your life it's hard to miss. To claim the full truth of your Belovedness - would that mean that it surely shows in your daily existence? Is not Becoming the Beloved a sure part of Being the Beloved? To let this truth become "enfleshed" in all that you say, think and do, rather than it being merely a beautiful thought or a blurry imagination, doesn't it mean you're called not only to BE but to BECOME who you know you are?


Know who you are, and walk in the knowledge of that.
You're chosen.
You're royalty.
You're holy.
You're a person who belongs to God.


Into chapter 2 of Nouwen's book. I'm finding it so hard not to rush through the whole book. Letting each page sink in. It's so true! I cannot think "I'm Beloved" without responding to the call of Becoming. Yet, responding to this call is too much and takes a lifetime...but it doesn't make sense to have it any other way! Remember, I am only able to give this gift of Belovedness to others inasmuch as I have myself experienced it. It's so exciting to see someone realize he/she is so loved, I want them to really live it! And this means me, too. I am reminded today, as Nouwen provokes me, that Experiencing BEING the Beloved is not possible unless I embark on the journey of BECOMING:

• To claim my Belovedness, which demands that I enflesh all the realities of this truth from heaven to shed light on my ordinary, mundane and occasionally tiresome existence. 
• To not only say yes to it once, but over and over so that there is a sense of becoming more and more what I am in the process of grasping. Painful, long process. 
• To allow myself grace for my forgetfulness, but always return to my identity that tells me, "You are and always will be the Beloved."
  

May the engraving of this identity never end! The more I live it out, the more I know what it really should look like.

You are the Beloved

It is now the holiday break before Fuller's winter quarter begins. Reading Nouwen's Life of the Beloved. What a joy to spend this time of year reflecting on this truth - a truth that is no less profound as it is simple.

BEING THE BELOVED is how this gift from Nouwen begins, a response to a request from his friend that he speaks of this God he so loves from his heart in terms anyone can understand. And I am captured by the weight of all that he wants to say to this friend: You are the Beloved. To be heard with all the tenderness and force that love can hold, the words that ought to reverberate "in every corner" of our beings - we are the Beloved. I struggle to imagine that this is something anyone can understand, if you can grasp the irony of this truth. It is so often far beyond what we can comprehend or dare believe.

Are we? The Beloved, you say?

Every corner of our beings is stricken with an unshakeable need to be loved, a need so deprived even by ourselves. Deprivation, starvation, malnourishment. We're constantly feeding on the prove-yourself-worthy diet because what we see when we look at our reflection is "I'm never good enough, beautiful enough, loveable enough, capable enough, strong enough." Everything we do that brings no satisfaction we seem to keep doing as though we can find fulfillment when we try often and try hard. Isn't it so true that beneath it all, our facade, our facemasks, we cover something so subtle and pervasive we cannot recognize it? Self-rejection in all its darkened glory, staring us in the face. Staring that comes from the eyes of those from whom we feel disapproval, disappointment, discontentment. Whether it is truly them or the self-condescending, self-deprecating voice within ourselves.

This is something so basic that really hit me as I read on: I could be an arrogant prick or someone you label as having low self-esteem - both are only indicators of what truly lies beneath. Self-rejection. How so? It manifests itself in both ways, doesn't it? We often say that pride, greed, popularity, fame, lust, or power are  problems we must deal with. But how are these seductive to one who has no need to prove him or herself worthy? Are these not trappings for the one who thinks these are solutions for the inadequacy he/she feels? So we put ourselves higher than others so people cannot see how we really are inside. Or we put ourselves so low people cannot criticize us anymore than we already do ourselves. We run from that whisper to know we are Beloved. We don't hear it amidst our self-creation, self-dependence, self-sufficiency. Self-protection. But it's really self-rejection. We reject that we can just be who we are, no more and no less.

For today, this chapter suffices. Something our malnourished beings need to chew on and digest, that is far more enriching than that diet of unworthiness we feed ourselves: You are the Beloved. Regardless of your success or failure, your past or present. A Belovedness that began even before you were born, to be perfected for eternity when death's final blow beseeches you home to your Belover. And I love the way Nouwen phrases it for our practice, that our giving to each other the gift of our Belovedness is what we should be about. Inasmuch as I have been able to claim this Belovedness for myself only am I able to give that gift to others. I definitely need to practice this...so help me, God.

Safe in Your Arms - A Reflection

'Cause nothing can move me
The mountains crumble at your feet
I'm safe in your arms
In your arms

This stanza is from a song by an amazing worship leader whom I love. For a long time, I had liked it - something about it always moves my heart. This morning as I huddled with my guitar in the warmth of my lil' room, with my windows all fogged up from the cold, wet air outside, I sang it again like so many other times - but I felt something different.

The mountains crumble at your feet...

You know, reflection is a tricky thing. Think 'mirror'. Without light, you can hardly see anything. You need a source of light somewhere near you. Near enough to have light rays bounce off the glass surface, like a prism, and colors come in to play. Or imagine a desk lamp right next to your laptop in front of you, adjustable for wherever you want more light to fall. On your notes. On your keyboard. On your book.

But have you ever pointed a spotlight right into a mirror? It gets too strong you have to turn away. Just a bit of light, and you get enough illumination in the darkness. Too much light, and you have to turn away 'cause it hurts to look into it.

So I reflect.

I like light. I like being able to see. I like illumination at the right spots, and beauty that comes from sparkles, glitter and brilliance. I like painting with light - photography. I like the dance that a candle flame does when a slight breeze slips in to its space. Question: does light ever fall on the wrong places? We may not like what it reveals or illuminates...

I reflect this morning on the fact that what I consider "mountains" in life - they can crumble. In fact, they don't just crumble, but they crumble at the feet of my Mountain-Maker. It hurts as I step into the light of this truth. Because what becomes highlighted is my self-reliance and independence and prayerlessness. I move from the shadows into the spotlight of truth. It feels almost unbearable to come to terms with our humanness sometimes (or should I speak only for myself, and say 'my humanness'?) I'm faced with this realization that I've been wanting mountains to crumble at MY feet, not Yours, Lord. They're not even MY mountains, so how dare I? At that, I turn away, afraid to look. My eyes squint in a pained frown, because my heart still faces You, though my eyes are turned away. God, Your truth drowns my heart in too bright a light, yet it refuses to blink.

'Cause nothing can move me

Sometimes, in moments like this, I squeeze my eyes shut and cover my lips. What can be said? What can be prayed? Except...it is in verbal silence, where the heart remains unsilenced, the unspoken is unspoken no more. And I ask without words, "Would You have the mountains crumble at Your dear feet, my Lord? I cannot have it any other way, or I would die trying."

I want to KNOW I'm safe in the arms of my Maker.
Though I know, I want to KNOW.
Not only shall my ears hear of You Let my eyes see You also.
The eyes of my heart.
The eyes of my heart.
The eyes of my heart that refuse to be blinded by Your light.

Reflection, with You, is undeniable beauty,
I want my independence, God, to flee;
Today I come and fall at Your feet,
Where me and these mountains meet.
May Your brilliance crumble them all,
Let them crumble, Lord, let them fall.
Oh, but though I too crumble, let me remain humbled, chided,
In Your arms where I am sheltered, forever carried.

I'm safe in Your arms
Safe in Your arms...