Brennan Manning

Throughout my journey of transformation, there have been a small handful of authors who have challenged, strengthened and inspired me so deep in the core of my being that I have undergone paradigm shifts after reading their works.

One such writer is Brennan Manning.  

My heart has been heavy upon hearing of the passing away of this sweet and brilliant man.  I have been moved by his ability to see past false pretenses, religious regulations and personal excuses to the person God sees.  I have been challenged to trust in the unrelenting, passionate love God has for me, beyond any kind of knowing I can ever comprehend.  

Brennan was a voice of grace and mercy spoken in the midst of seminary professors and scholars.  In my reading of a myriad of theology and "Christian-living" books written by other contemporary authors, the distinction of Brennan was his simplicity and grace.  He did not get caught up in the apologetic approach of nit-picking every tiny detail and arguing angles and cases to every possible Biblical doctrine imaginable.  Instead, he stayed simple.  He remained true.  He reflected Jesus.

I had a dream almost a year ago.  I was in a city and there was some kind of war or crisis going on around me.  People were running and very afraid.  I remember looking around for a leader, someone older, to whom I could ask what was happening, or what I should be doing.  What I recognized, instead, was that everyone around me was younger than myself.  I began having people approach me with questions I did not know the answers to.  From deep within me a groan and ache rose up and I realized those people, resources and connections I lean on (too much as a crutch perhaps) were gone.  It was simply me.  What was I going to tell these people?  What words of wisdom or encouragement could I give them?

When I woke up, I began reflecting on my life.  The "horror" of life ticking on and continuing to loose such sweet, contemplative authors, like Brennan, left me with an anxious feeling that I needed to, somehow, step up my game - grow up, if you will - and be ready for that time when I am needed.

The dream mostly became a memory that every so often is brought to the surface as our world looses great spiritual giants of our time.  I do not read too many contemporary authors, nor do I visit Christian bookstores.  I cannot stomach personal agendas and self-gratifying stories that preach about how to have a happy life and do not point to the redemption and love of our Father.   The many authors we have left in our world tend to focus on steps to a better life; more money, more happiness, more fame...the better you.

In reality, our world is broken.  People are hurting and hopeless.  While our culture does cry out for peace and happiness, setting people up, under the disguise of Christianity, and offering them steps toward happiness without any realities of pain and suffering in our world will only lead these lost sheep further away from the love of God, from whom all our suffering and sorrow can be healed!

On Brennan Manning's homepage, his family has posted a quote:

"Suffering, failure, loneliness, sorrow, discouragement, and death will be part of your journey, but the Kingdom of God will conquer all these horrors.  No evil can resist grace forever."

I am deeply saddened to hear about the loss of someone whom I feel is my friend.  His writings have drawn me into his world, in particular, Abba's Child, The Furious Longing of God and The Ragamuffin Gospel, have unfolded the depth of God's love for me in a way that I will forever be grateful and broken me out of the religious duties I thought I had to fulfill.

With great caution, I look forward into an unknown future and can only hope and pray that God will continue to raise men and women who reflect the very heart of God in word and deed.  I am in all honesty scared as to what is to come as more and more of our precious generation of fathers and mothers leave us and rest in the hands of Abba Himself.  

God, challenge those of us with work yet to do, to pick up and continue forward with these mantles of faith, hope and love.  May we preach the gospel of grace and always remember the sinner is Your precious child.  

Thank you, Brennan, for teaching me grace.

A few of my favorite quotes:

"To affirm a person is to see the good in them that they cannot see in themselves and to repeat it in spite of appearances to the contrary."

"The wild, unrestricted love of God is not simply an inspiring idea.  It determines why and at what time you get up in the morning, how you pass your evenings, how you spend your weekends, what you read, and who you hang with; it affects what breaks your heart, what amazes you, and what makes your heart happy."

(This one is fun!)
"In retrospect, my ponderous ponderings on the purgative, illuminative, and unitive stage of my spiritual life, my assiduous search for shortcuts to holiness, my preoccupation with my spiritual pulse and my fasts, mortifications and penances have wrought pseudobliss and the egregious delusion that I was securely ensconced in the seventh mansion of spiritual perfection." (ha! ha! - I have "love it" next to this quote!)

"I believe that only a person who has actually experienced God (a mystic) would dare to pray with such boldness."  

"The death of Jesus Christ on the cross is His greatest single act of unwavering trust in His Abba's love.  He (Jesus) plunged into the darkness of death, not fully knowing what awaited Him, confident that somehow, some way, His Abba would vindicate Him."  

"'Abba, I Belong To You.' It's a prayer of exactly seven syllables, the number that corresponds perfectly to the rhythm of our breathing.  As you inhale - Abba.  As you exhale- I belong to You."

"The foundation of the furious longing of God is the Father who is the originating Love, the Son who is the full self-expression of that Love, and the Spirit who is the original and inexhaustible activity of that Love, drawing the created universe into itself."

"Jesus came not only for those who skip morning meditations, but also for real sinners, thieves, adulterers, and terrorists, for those caught up in squalid choices and failed dreams."

"The love of God cannot be tamed, boxed, captivated, housebroken, or templebroken.  It is simply and startlingly Jesus, the effulgence of the Father's love."

Big Steps Toward Healing

I achieved a milestone that I thought I would share.

Some of you may not be aware, but a few weeks ago I decided to resign as Children's Ministry Coordinator.  God's hand has been pressing on me to make this decision for months now...if not years.  My stubbornness and dislike of change (and unknown) kept me in my "safe" job.

Through a multitude of God-moments the last few months, I am 100% certain God has challenged me to step down.  Perhaps I will post another blog soon about that decision.  This blog, however, is not about that decision, but about one of the outcomes of making it.

.................................................................................................................

One of my first tasks was to clean up old files.

It may seem strange, but in the bottom, left-corner of my desktop, for the last (almost) three years, I have had a Word Document entitled, "Friends Lost."  When our church went through a difficult season nearly three years ago, I found myself daily receiving multiple e-mails from friends who had decided to leave the church.

Four weeks ago I re-opened that file that had been sitting on my desktop.  

I scrolled through six pages of single-spaced notes from friends who, at one point in time, served right along beside me in ministry.  I had included with each letter, the date and time I received them.  What a haunting experience to walk back through those very dark two weeks and the entire year that followed as notes continued and I was frequently afraid to open my e-mail to find yet another friend who was gone.

I wondered, as I sat in my office, why I had cut and pasted all these e-mails into this one very sad, long letter.

Three weeks ago I taught a class on "The Five Love Languages" to young mothers at my sister's church.  With the Love Languages fresh in my mind, God told me why I had saved all those letters.  I had never realized how much I crave words of affirmation.  For me, words are powerful.  They can make or break me.

While all of the e-mails were tremendously sad to read through, for most of them, the opening line of, "Thank you, Connie..." was the only verbal affirmation I would receive from people of whom I had given my heart.  What an unhealthy method of receiving words of affirmation!  So much garbage was piled on, in and around the affirmation.  I am sure this entire document put me way in the negative and did not build me up in any way.  Or perhaps I saved the e-mails to convince myself that all the time and energy I had spent really was worthy it.

Then something strange began to happen.

It was like the heart-strings that attached me to each of these sweet families began to snap.  I felt this overwhelming sense of release.  I've been holding onto memories and times past which has kept me from reaching forward to what God wants to do in the present and future.  While I will always have a special place in my heart for so many of these children and friends, I suddenly had this indignant feeling that they can no longer hold me back and have power over me.

I have always told people, and know very well, that when I refuse to forgive someone, I keep us handcuffed (in bondage) together.  I know this logically, but had never experienced the release of letting go.

I felt my heart racing as I began moving my cursor over the "Friends Lost" document on my desktop.  I was suddenly on a battlefield.  Am I going to save this file onto my flash drive to keep forever as a reminder of this season in my life, these "friends" and the memories associated with them?  Or am I going to let it go?

My decision: This file has kept me in bondage too long.

With great precision, I felt my ring-finger (the finger that signifies relationship btw) press on the right-click button on my mouse.  I scrolled up to the word, "cut."  I lingered for just a few short seconds and then...click.

The document was gone.

I am free.  

The Snowflake Project

"I wish there was some way I could help."

"If only there was something I could do."

If you're like me, you are feeling the ache of wanting to help the parents, school and community of Newtown.  How can one person, thousands of miles away, reach across the void to help a community in mourning?

A good friend of mine directed me to a project that is underway, called "The Snowflake Project."  The Snowflake Project is for students and staff of Sandy Hook Elementary School who will be returning to school after Christmas Break.  The idea is that people from across the country, create a snowflake and mail it to Connecticut.  Members of the school and the PTA will hang the snowflakes in the hallways of the school where the children will be returning.

The hope is for students to enter a winter-wonderland, filled with a cheerful, happy, sparkly environment.

PTA leaders are requesting NO WORDS be written on the snowflakes.  Instead, they do ask that a prayer be prayed before sending off each snowflake to the community of Sandy Hook Elementary School.  The overwhelming comfort of a roomful of snowflakes- each one representing a prayerful heart- will help the healing process of the families affected by this tragedy.

This is a simple way to do something that will calm the fear, anticipation and nerves of the staff and students returning to school.

Getting involved in the Snowflake Project is a tanglible way for parents and children to process our thoughts and direct our energy and frustration in a positive direction.

After denial, the second stage of grief is anger.  I felt as if all day Friday and through most of the weekend, our Nation sat in the stage of disbelief that this tragedy has happened.  Early this week, our Nation took a shift from sorrow and disbelief to outrage and an intense desire to blame someone or something.  We want to be angry at someone.  Unfortunately, there is no one to blame.  Our frustration of not being able to blame, forces us to have pent-up anxiety.  The Snowflake Project provides a positive, productive way for us to heal and help children and adults most closely affected by this tragedy.

Join me in Newtown's vision to blanket the school in snowflakes and prayers.  All snowflakes need to be received by January 9th.  Mail your snowflake to the following address:

The Snowflake Project

c/o Bonny Marsicano

22 Pine Tree Hill Road

Newtown, CT 06470

My church will be collecting snowflakes to be mailed off to Connecticut if you would rather not hassle with mailing a snowflake individually.  Visit my church's webiste at www.ccfclovis.com for more details about where and when to drop off the snowflakes.

The community of Newtown is hoping to receive 500 snowflakes.  I think they will be surprised at the outpouring of love and support that will come from all over the world.  Let us get out of our sadness and do something productive for the hurting community of Newtown.

Talk With Your Children

As our nation reels with the tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary School, I am forced as a mother to decide how to discuss the situation with my own children.  Here are some tips to help parents talk with your children.

1. Find a quiet time to talk with your child(ren).  We live in a technological world.  If we do not approach the topic, your child will most likely hear about it via friends or media.  I would rather be the source for my child’s information.  We are guardians of our children and need to guard what kind of information is going in.  I talked with my son this morning after his sisters had left for school.  He hadn’t heard anything as of yet.  I debated just for a minute about whether to discuss it or not.  I decided he would be going to school within 20 minutes and would most likely hear about it eventually.  So I took the plunge of discussion with my 10 year old.
2. Ask what your child knows about the tragedy.  Do not jump right in with details.  As with all situations, decipher what your child already knows.  Excessive details are not always necessary.  The age and individual sensitivity of your child needs to also play a factor as to how much and what information you choose to disclose.
3. Listen and correct the facts gently.  Hear your child and gently correct any inaccurate information.  As children talk amongst themselves, the story may change.  Keeping facts accurate is important.  We want our children to recognize parents as a source of truth and safety. 
4. Be general.  Do not go into the grim details of the tragedy.  Children have very active imaginations and do not need our help to add to any fear.  Our conversations with our children should be remarkably different from that with our peers and other adults.  (If you, as a parent, are having a difficult time with this situation, talk with a friend or respected adult before speaking with your children.  Our children are sensitive and can pick up on our fears and worry.)
5. Let your children ask questions.  Don’t be afraid to let your child ask questions.  It is okay to not know the answers. 
6. Differentiate your conversation.  Every child is different and reacts differently to situations.  Parents know our children best.  When talking with your child, take into consideration their age as well as their sensitivity to difficult situations.  Tread lightly and be cautious.  What may be important to you, as an adult, may cause undue worry to a child.  Your conversation with a teenager should be different than one with an early elementary student.
7. Give your child hope.  I read a quote from Mr. Rogers that encourages parents to help their children "look for the helpers.  You will always find people who are helping" when faced with a tragedy.  Looking at the situation at Sandy Hook, it is clear that this is a community filled with goodness and love.  Help your child see the overwhelming goodness in our world despite the presence of evil.  Teachers sacrificing their lives, police ready to save lives, nurses ready to assist.  We have good people around us.
8. Turn off the TV.  I know we want to stay up with the news, but remember a picture is worth a thousand words.  Unless you are willing to have a very long conversation with your child and explain everything their little minds tried to process, I would recommend not having the news on at all.  Listen to the radio, check updates on yahoo or on the internet.  Visuals are powerful and can send a message of fear.
9. Get involved.  Your child may want to respond to the situation.  Allow your child to write a card, send a note, light a candle, say a prayer….anything really.  Children are creative and if you allow them, they may help you through your feelings of grief through their acts of kindness and love.  Look for reliable sources offering ways for your child (and yourself) to respond and help people who have been hurt in this tragedy.  Red Cross or local churches may have options set-up.
10. Be there.  Be near your child the next few weeks.  Ask your teenager, “Are you okay?  Do you want to talk?” Ask your elementary child, “How was school?  How are you?  Do you want to talk about anything?”  Show your child that you are available and ready for them.  If they say no, let your presence be comforting.

I hope these tips can help you and your family through this very sad time in our nation.  Continue to pray for the families that lost their babies.

“Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name,

Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread. 

And forgive us our debts as we have forgiven our debtors.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the Kingdom and the power and the glory of heaven.  Amen.

Historical Dislocation & Pumpkin Pies

With pumpkin pies still cooking in the oven and my family asleep upstairs, I am forced to endure the silence of the night.  I have come to love this time of night, when sounds are still and noises cease.  I can let my thoughts out and stretch.  It is within this "stretching," however that I wrestle with unformulated ideas and opinions.

It was during my mixing and measuring of my pies that I began thinking about life.  My pumpkin pie recipe comes from my sweet Grandmother (Nana) whom I continue to (and will forever) miss so dearly.  It is funny how a person's memory can live on in so many forms- even here, I remember her in my pie recipe.  I find myself so fortunate to have memories living on around me.  These thoughts lead me to wonder about other people not so fortunate.

I am currently reading a book by Henri Nouwen called, "The Wounded Healer."  The premise of the book is how ministers of the Gospel are going to need to adapt our message to be relevant to the changing culture.  The fascinating part of the book is that it was written in 1972.  The "recent studies" he highlights come from studies from the 60's.  It is remarkable at the near-pinpointed accuracy Nouwen has formulating our current culture.

Nouwen calls humanity in the future (us of today) a "Nuclear Man."  This term is dual in meaning.  He uses this term first because he foresees humanity as becoming very introverted and isolated.  While a person may indeed seem sociable and friendly, in reality, many are disassociated with true friendships and even family.  Secondly, man living in our present age are post-Nuclear.  We all live with the knowledge that Nuclear threat (though we do not like to think or talk about it) is real and could end life as we know it in a wink of an eye.  Perhaps life in 2012 is not quite as nuclear-fanatic as life in the early 1970's, however we still live knowing the frailty of humanity against such great evils.

The one element of Nuclear Man that I began thinking about while making my Nana's pumpkin pies is the lack of many in our culture to relate to the past.  Nouwen calls this "Historical Dislocation."  Because Nuclear Man is afraid of imminent doom, we (not knowingly) have detached ourselves from history, both past and present.  This disconnect can be seen in young adults not interested in having children "How could I bring a life into our evil world?," or in lack of parenting because "what difference does it really matter."  Or, "Why work towards a career since no one really knows how long life will last?"

I read this chapter about a month ago and have been chewing on this notion of detachment from history.  The ramifications of remaining isolated, set apart from the whole of creation is staggering.  If we do not see our lives in the framework of history, I fear we also loose hope.  As a Christian, so much of my hope is future oriented.  Of course, God is my present help in time of need, but so much of the promises of God we have yet to see or experience.  I would much rather live a life knowing I have worked with God to bring His Kingdom a step closer in my lifetime, than remain a sad, isolated life apart from history.  My little 80, 90-year-life is just a bleep in history, yes- BUT within my little "bleep" have a learned & taught those around me a little more than what we know before?  Has my influence been helpful or destructive to the whole of humanity?  Life is a MUCH bigger picture than we really understand if we cannot stand back and see our lives in the scope of history (past and present).

So I wonder, can a Christian be exempt from History?  How can we proclaim the Gospel and feel like our past and future is irrelevant?  I think about the many relatives and friends who have gone before me, paving my way for what freedoms and experiences I have today.  Almost like a tree that is continually branching out, if my branch decided to separate itself from the trunk, what future can my branch possibly have?

Oops!  My pies just peeped.  Time to pull them out and go to bed!

So maybe my thoughts are getting way too out there for you (I get deeper the later the evening goes!).  Or perhaps I've got you thinking too.  Are you connecting with your past?  Are you investing in your future?  Or are you living disassociated from your past and isolated from your future?  Interesting questions to ponder...lots of formulating yet to do!

Operation Christmas Child

"But it doesn't fit."

"Can we use a bigger box?"

"Can we send two boxes to one child?"

"What if the batteries wear out?"

"What will he do if the pencil breaks?"

These were a few of the questions I had to tackle at our recent outing to Target.  

Our church is collecting shoe boxes (through Operation Christmas Child) for children living in poverty around the world.  All three of my children jumped with delight at the opportunity to create a special little box for a child across the globe.

Decision #1: Girl or Boy?

Quickly enough, my girls chose to make a box for a girl, and my boy decided to create a box for a boy.  What a surprise (wink, wink).

Decision #2: What Age?

In years past, my children have tended to choose the age similar to their current age.  Surprisingly, this year, all three elected for the youngest age, 2-4 year old.

I wonder why they all chose the youngest age.  Perhaps because many of their cousins are younger?  Possibly because all my children volunteer at church with young children?  Or maybe because their favorite Christmas memories are found during their most early years of life.  Whatever the possibility, we were now on an adventure through Target to fill three boxes for three young children.

Decision #3: What to put into the box?

Perhaps the hardest part, indeed, was limiting my children to the tiny little boxes.  

"A shoe box never looked so small," my twelve-year-old daughter commented.

My girls (12 & 14) got busy finding tiny dolls, blankets, crayons & hair clips for their little girls.

My son (10), however, was stumped. He quickly had the realization that most the items he would personally enjoy, or that a young boy would want, were too big to fit in a shoe box.  He racked his brain with ideas until he surrendered and instead found me with his empty box.

"I just don't know, Mom.  None of the toys that I think he might like fit into the box.  Do you have any ideas?"
"What have you tried?" I questioned.
"A light saber, legos, a soccer ball, dump truck, stuff like that."
"Ok, those are good ideas.  Now I want you to think.  If you were a three-year-old boy living in a place where you had few toys, very little food and not much shelter and this was your only Christmas present, what would you hope to find in this box?"

Micah's eyes looked away in thought.  I could see him putting himself into the shoes of another person and asking himself that question.  After a few short seconds he turned back toward me and responded, "A teddy bear."

"Good idea."

We maneuvered around children throwing fits in the isles until we reached the plush animal section.  Micah locked eyes on a soft teddy bear who fit perfectly inside his box.  With lovingkindness, my tough, strong boy gently kissed the bear on its head and laid it in his shoe box.  Micah sent away more than just a shoe box.  His sent his love to an unknown child he would probably never meet.  It was like he experienced the "Grinch" phenomenon of having his heart grow in size.

Isaiah 54:2 reads, "Enlarge the place of your tent; stretch out the curtains of your dwellings, spare not; lengthen your cords."  When I read a verse like that, I have to question if it is mearly literal, or perhaps is illustrating a deeper meaning.  I believe that Micah had his tent (heart) expanded that day in Target and I pray we continue to give God permission to stretch our hearts to hold more love.  I pray we never settle with feeling "full," but instead use our feeling of satisfaction as a clue that it is time to stretch (though not always comfortable).

My family left Target that afternoon with excitement to watch our boxes travel to a child in need.  With great expectation we wait for an e-mail to tell us where our boxes arrived.  In the meantime, we will pray for the thousands of boxes being delivered and pray for salvation to come to villagers who have not yet encountered a Living God who loves each and every one of us so very much and gives us peace and hope even in the most dire of circumstances. 

I can also relish in the light of watching my children step inside someone else's "shoes."

We have so much to be thankful for as the holiday season approaches.  I pray we have the courage to trust God to expand our hearts and fill us with a greater abundance of love. 

Be sure to watch for opportunities to bring joy, peace and salvation to people in your path.  The blessing of giving to others far exceeds the temporary joy of receiving.

"For God so loved the world (that's the whole entirety of the world folks!) that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.  For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him."  John 3:16-17

That's what I call, Good News!

Unproductive Quiet

I decided to throw them away!

I have four nice, mature violets who never bloom! Yes, the leaves are lovely but pale in comparison to the dark purple flowers I could be enjoying.  Being the plant lover that I am, I did not immediately come to this conclusion.  My goal was for my family and friends to enjoy the plants downstairs.  However, being that my house faces east/west, it is impossible to put the plants in the south window I had always heard violets enjoy. 

"How finicky can a violet really be to know the different rays of sun from alternating directions?"

I had changed their location downstairs, switched up the moisture for the soil and even added some violet food- all amounting to still no blossoms.  In the back of my head (you know, that place where God speaks to us!) I knew I had to eventually try my one-and-only south facing window before I toss out my plants.

In my house, if a plant is not performing- it's out.  I don't have time for mediocrity.  I expect excellence.

Four week ago I hid my four violets upstairs in my south facing window in my bathroom. In one respect I was sad because if these little stinkers did not perk up and perform, I was going to have to say goodbye to good friends whom I have watered and talked with for years (yes, I talk to my plants).  Conversely, if they did bloom- no one could enjoy them but me!  What is the purpose of that?

Low and behold, within DAYS of my move, small buds began to unfold from the middle of the plants.  A week later I had a few purple blossoms on each of my four plants.  With a little more water and a little more time, my plants are booming with an array of flowers!

As I sit and reflect on my finicky plants I am reminded of the verse in John 15:4,

"Abide in Me, and I in you."

Do you ever have a season in your life where opening the Bible is work? I know I go through times when I open the Word of God and life flows from the pages. Other times, the Bible feels silent and removed.

It is in those times when I put my Bible aside and simply sit before my Father.  I have nothing to say and I have nothing to bring.  I do not bring a long list of demands (prayer requests) or my pencils for studing, I come empty-handed to soak in His presence.  My thoughts are quiet.  My mood reflective.


With three budding Christians in my house I teach them different ways to commune with God. I have encouraged them to try the, "be quiet and sit" technique, but often wondered if I'm incredibly off my rocker.  All I know is that I have indeed been supported, given peace and grown in my times of "unproductive quiet."  While my analytical side tells me I am waisting my time and will have nothing to show for my senseless act, I wonder how much of my spiritual growth has occured not in study, but in silence; not in talking, but in solitude.

My plants simply sit in the sun.  Not just any sun, the south-facing sun.  Even if all we can do sometimes is sit before our Father, I am conviced (thanks to my violets) that God is still at work within us.

Though no one else can see my beautiful purple violets, they stay in my bathroom as a daily reminder of God's incredible creation and abounding love for me.