We’re all speaking in tongues…

“Denominationally, we have chosen to be at war with one another. We use our words as weapons…words central to our faith.” – Charlie Kaufman

“I’m looking for couples who express the fullness of God’s gifting in their lives to walk along side me in a new work.”

I cocked my head to the side and looked hard at him for a second.  It’s taken me years to learn to say these next words….

“Tell me, exactly, what you mean by that…what does that look like in real life?”

He began again in simple words, but strung together in way that sounded more like poetry than the mathematics I was looking for, and I had to stop him.

“I’m not sure you’re speaking a language that I understand.”

It was his turn to cock his head and look at me quizzically.  We had been serving together in ministry for years, and, I think, misunderstanding each other for about that long.  I watched as that realization broke like dawn over his face.

“I need some couples who are mature and secure enough in their faith to pray with me, to serve in church with me and, most of all, to tell me when I don’t make sense.”

This conversation got me thinking…as a person who began her religious education as a practitioner of Wicca, converted to Christianity and practiced as a Southern Baptist, and now finds herself as an ordained minister in a non-denominational church plant while working on staff at a Lutheran (liturgical) church- I have a fairly ecumenical vocabulary.  But I have noticed that we, the  people of the church, often use the same words to mean vastly different things…or perhaps at times incrementally different things…and either way we use those differences to draw a line in the sand and create a deep sense of disunity.

Some of my most frustrating conversations find their source in these misunderstood words.  I generally have no problem asking about words I have never heard before.  This is a good thing- my work in the Lutheran church has forced me to rub up against a whole new Christian vocabulary, but I do find myself wondering if the words my friends, pastors and other Christians are using mean what I think they mean.

Surely, I am not the only one…so I asked my Facebook community to share with me words they found were commonly misunderstood, particularly across denominations. I found the replies very interesting.  I guess I was fairly certain we would misunderstand the larger theological concepts between denominations (and we do, largely)…but the words folks struggled with the most were words like:

God

Saved

Jesus

Gospel

Holy Spirit

Grace

Words formative to our identity as Christian.  Words that are central to our religion as a whole….these are the words that, by and large, Christians are unsure of in a general ecumenical context. Or, worse yet, we think we are all speaking the same language, but in reality have very different understandings of the these words that we interact with every day as Christians.

Turns out…we are all speaking in tongues…and most of us don’t even realize it…

Perhaps what we need is more folks with the gift of interpreting….

Or religious dictionaries that strictly define these words…

Or better yet, lots of coffee and tea and open discussions about faith, belief and the foundations that form our traditions…

That’s scary business and requires a disciplined insight into your own language and the ability to step into the fire of the question, “what does this word mean to me?”

It’s time though…

to stop drawing lines in the sand and start pulling chairs up to the table…

Coffee, anyone?

And it begins….A Writing Prompt from “Old Friend from Far Away”

 

This is not the first prompt from Natalie Goldberg’s book Old Friend from Far Away: The Practice of Writing Memoir, but it is the first prompt that unveiled the magic of simply beginning to write.  As I was writing this piece I realized that where I started with nothing…I ended with a story I had forgotten.  It was a wonder to me.  So let’s begin there…I want to share a bit of what Natalie shares with those beginning this practice:

“Don’t cross out. Don’t worry about punctuation, spelling or grammar.  Be specific. Not car, but Cadillac. Not tree, but sycamore.  But don’t worry, if you write “bird” instead of woodpecker, you can figure out what kind it was two weeks later when you reread it. The important thing is to keep your hand moving. If you get stuck go back and write the prompt again…

Say what you want to say, not what you think you should say. Trust what you put down, even if the editor or critic inside you says it’s wrong or you made a mistake…feel free to write the worst junk in America.”

So here are the rules:

  1. No editing.  Write what you write.
  2. You may choose to share your post- just post the link in the comments.  Or you don’t have to.  I sat on some of these writings for a year before I was brave enough to post them.  Let them be true…without thought of audience AND then choose what you will share with the world at large.  If you choose not to share, will you share some thoughts about your experience writing this prompt?
  3. Write for ten minutes….at the end of your ten minutes, wrap up with a final thought and end your piece.

That’s it! Easy-peasy, right?  So let’s go!

Write for ten minutes on the prompt- “I’m thinking of.”

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I’m thinking of nothing really.  I’m thinking of a million tiny threads of thoughts that are jumbled in a ball of wire.  The wire was not rolled “over-under” and is knotted and frayed.  It doesn’t connect thoughts to source as it should and this writing jumps from place to place like a Mexican jumping bean.  I’m thinking of all the things I want..no have…no need…no feel like getting done today and how I sit here writing. What I really want to do is flex this muscle all day, but I know the quiet won’t last long and soon there will be cries of “Mom! I’m hungry!” and “I don’t have any clean underwear.”  And since I never left my jammies yesterday, I’m not sure I should indulge in the same sluggish, non-activity again.

I’m thinking these free-writing activities in this TMNT notebook remind me of the fifth grade, where we first started free-writing. I hated fifth grade, but I loved writing and it is interesting to me that both coincide.  My fifth grade teacher was an awful woman (or at least I thought she was) who wanted to “squelch” my “drive to succeed.”

No really, she said that to my parents once.  She told them that I raised my hand too much in class and always knew the right answer and it was disruptive because no one else would ever answer questions.  She banned me from wearing black patent shoes because they clicked when I walked and sent me to the principal for touching a girl’s necklace when we were in the lunch line.  She hated me and I never understood why.

Now, as an adult, I think perhaps I was one of those overly precocious, know-it-all children who was clueless to the fifth grade misfit rebellion she was leading.  At my ten year class reunion, there were three classmates who told me that year was formative.  One said, “Watching you quietly thwart her every move helped me know that I could be who I wanted no matter who didn’t want me to.”

I had no idea.

I just wanted to wear my black patent shoes again and go out to recess and not be afraid to raise my hand with the right answer because my teacher wouldn’t like me. I tried to be sweet. I brought apples, but she was allergic. I cleaned chalkboards, but got the chalk dust on the floor. I helped put up her bulletin board, but I didn’t hang the pictures in the right order and she “would have to do it again anyway..” and “just wished I would pay better attention to instructions.”

She kept me in from recess and made me sit under her desk in front of the room for the rest of the day.  My fifth grade crush (who happened to be her teacher’s pet) snuck me a piece of chocolate and asked “Why is she mad at you this time?”  I shrugged my shoulders and continued reading Brave New World.

Everything changed at parent-teacher conferences when my parents realized that my tears and stories about her continued mistreatment of me were less the tears of a dramatic ten year old and more the truth of a young child who didn’t understand how to follow the rules of the game she was supposed to play.  When they met, she began to tell them of all my many issues.

“She always answers the questions in class. Other students don’t get a chance.”

“Does she blurt them out?” My dad asked.

“No, she raises her hand.”

“Then don’t call on her.”

“Well, she is the only one who raises her hand.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to call on her.”

I sat with my ear pressed against a tiny crack in the door hoping to get a clue of how to be.

Rule #1:  Don’t answer questions.

“She finishes her work too quickly and spends way too much time reading fiction books,” she continued with her list.

“Is she disturbing the class?” My mom asked.

“No. She is quiet, but the other kids feel bad because she finishes so quickly.”

She was getting frustrated now, and a defensive whine was creeping into her voice.

“Is she doing sloppy or inaccurate work?” There was a steely edge in my mother’s voice. One I hadn’t heard before.

“No. It is right and acceptable.”

Rule #2:  Pretend you are slow.  BE AVERAGE.

“She just has this drive to succeed and be right all the time.  She seems to be driven to be the best at what she does.  At everything.”  The whine had completely taken over my teacher’s normally abrupt and commanding tone.

“Well, that’s Cari.  She’s a very driven young lady,” my dad said proudly.

“We need to squelch her drive to succeed so she can better fit into my classroom.”

I heard the scrape of the chair across the floor as my mother stood up.  Daddy shifted and leaned forward in his chair.  Waves of energy poured from them both so strong I nearly recoiled from the force of it.  My mother put her hands on my teacher’s desk and leaned in close to her.  My mother’s voice was the quiet ice of tightly controlled anger. I had to strain to hear her words.

“You may choose to point that drive in any direction you want, but you WILL NOT squelch anything!”

I smiled.  I didn’t know exactly what squelching was, but it didn’t sound fun. Daddy’s chair scraped against the floor as he stood next to my mother.

“It sounds to me, ma’am, like the problem is not with our daughter.  If you have some suggestions that don’t require ‘squelching’ then we are happy to ask Cari to implement them. In the meantime, I expect her days to be spent at her own desk and not sitting under yours being shamed for no reason. Is that something we can agree on or shall we stop by the principal’s office on our way out of school?”

Rule #3  #1:  Be yourself.  The people who  love you have your back.

 

 

 

Inspiration from an “Old Friend from Far Away” (aka an effort to return to writing)

Hello my friends in the blogosphere! Have you missed me? I have missed you all so much…or maybe I haven’t missed these nights here at the computer nearly enough to return to them…or maybe, as I told a friend the other day, I am speaking so much now and I just only have a finite amount of words in me and it leaves me with nothing to write.  (She reminded me that I was created in the image of an infinite God and thus there was nothing ‘finite’ about me…including my words, but perhaps I was releasing them through the outlet of speaking rather than writing and simply didn’t need the writing as much these days.) Or perhaps I have simply become a slave to my busy schedule and make no place for this platform.  Whatever the reason, I am limping back this way complete with shiny good intentions to be here on a regular basis.  

My plan is to post regularly again in the “Ministry Resources” category (once every other week) and to hopefully share some words from you that I have been working on in my free writing exercises.  This second experiment terrifies me as these are some of the truest, rawest words I have written.  I have been hiding them in a “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle” notebook for over a year now and I think I am ready to share some.  But cause I am all scared and stuff and hate to do this authenticity thing alone- wanna play along?showyourheart

Here’s what I’ll do:  

I will post a prompt from my memoir writing book by Natalie Goldberg, Old Friend From Far Away: The Practice of Writing Memoir, and other books every now and again.  I will commit to writing on this prompt for ten minutes and share my writing with you…and you share with me?  Post a response to the prompt and share your link in the comments?  What do you say?  If yes…super cool! Let’s do this thang! If no, well…then…I will share what I write anyway…So to start, just a quick story about how I came by this treasure of a book by Natalie Goldberg.

I was undone by her gift.  When I unwrapped it, it seemed…well…typical….of my sister- of her habits, of her life and loves…that she would gift me with a book for Christmas.  It is what she always gives- a tradition begun in her grad school days when money was tight and knowledge premium.

A sweet gift for a bibliophile like myself, but…well…expected.  I almost didn’t even flip through the pages….but I am so glad I did.

The book itself was one chosen specifically for me- Old Friend from Far Away: The Practice of Writing Memoir by Natalie Goldberg- a treasure for a storyteller and writer like myself.  It was a book I had longed for for several months and I was excited she’d chosen it for me.

“I just bought this for my Kindle!” I said and watched her face fall a bit.

“You can take it back if you want,” she offered, “but you should check inside first.”

I opened to the introduction and began skimming when out slipped a slip of cut looseleaf notebook paper.  Scrawled in blue magic marker in my sister’s handwriting was a quote:

“You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face…You must do the thing you cannot do.”- Eleanor Roosevelt

Her letters formed straight up and down, started neatly and ran off the lines at the end of the quote. The slip of paper was torn cleanly from it’s sheet. I stared in wonder at this gift.

She’d stolen moments to write these words and tuck them in this book for me to run across at just the perfect time.  She’d searched and saved and thought of me when she saw them…and then she’d pulled the cap off of a blue Cars magic marker and written them down for me late at night or during nap time or when she could have been showering in peace.  Moments her busy-mom-of-two-with-a-newly-adopted-special-needs-chld-life just could not afford….but she spent them anyway.

As I flipped through, I found other slips of paper and had to fight the urge to read them all. I knew her intent was for me to unwrap these tiny gifts all year long- to dole out bits of encouragement over time…so I waited….and sat in awe at her gift.

I have loved working through this book over the last year….so now I am ready to share SOME of this writing with you…maybe these prompts will be as beautiful a gift to you as they have been to me.  Stay tuned…I’ll be back soon!

Surrendered Heart: Living Captivated

https://www.facebook.com/captivatingheartretreat/app_165292890192474

Surrendered Heart is the next step in the Captivating Heart Retreat Series. Stripped down, focused and intimate, this retreat is a weekend away with other women seeking deep healing and deep communion with God. Taught by Marilyn Hodgin, Judy Turner of Christview Ministries and Strings Attached’s own Cari Kaufman, we are incredibly excited about what God is inviting us to. Surrendered Heart takes place at St Scholastica Retreat Center in Ft Smith, Arkansas, May 13-15, 2016. For more information go to www.captivatingheart.com.  This event is designed for those ladies who have attended Captivating Heart or a similar Captivating based retreat or who have been through the Captivating:Heart to Heart DVD series.

Excuses, Excuses…or why I haven’t been around much…

I am still alive.  Strings Attached Ministries is still thriving and moving and grooving.  We are still speaking to groups all around the nation and teaching that relationships are meant to be deep and connected.  I am still writing, but in a notebook that doesn’t plug into the wall.  My friend, Holley Gerth, says that I am still weaving words prolifically, but they are spoken and not written and my clever words are finite.

Life has taken over.  I am struggling with all the demands of being a working mother and wife, a ministry leader, and a daughter. And in the midst of that, I am working on writing my fears….the true stuff, the hard stuff, the stuff I shove under rugs and try to forget, and well, I am just not ready to share that yet.

I say all that to say this.

I miss you guys. 🙂 I miss sharing thoughts and words here, and hope to do it again soon. I sense an opening margin on the horizon, but I must climb this looming mountain first.  I will return to regular posting, soon, I hope.

If you’ve come here for the first time- stay a while…look around…there’s some great stuff here (even if I do say so myself!).

Grace and Peace,

Five Minute Friday- Fly

 

On Fridays around these parts we stop, drop, and write.

For fun, for love of the sound of words, for play, for delight, for joy and celebration at the art of communication.

For only five short, bold, beautiful minutes. Unscripted and unedited. We just write without worrying if it’s just right or not.

Won’t you join us?

Here are the rules:

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.

2. Link back here and invite others to join in.

3. Most importantly: leave a comment for the person who linked up before you – encouraging them in their writing!

OK, are you ready? Give me your best five minutes on:

Today’s prompt is:  Fly

Ready? GO!

There is a moment when time stops just before I jump.  There is a split second, blink of the eye instant where doubt creeps in and I pray that my people see me, that they hear me and that they know me well enough to know that I am going for it. There is a moment when I wonder if my troupe will catch me…or not…and my launch into the air will be met with gravity and floor.

But it’s just a moment….because in this world- as it is in the world of improv…you have to trust that when you jump, you will be caught.  And because I was born without wings or a superpower and my cape is dirty and in the wash :), when I jump, the only way I can fly is on the hands and strength of the people I trust to catch me.

In our improv troupe, when someone assumes the role of a superhero or bird or some other flying character, the troupe will come together to "fly" the individual by lifting that person into the air (or catching them as they jump).  It is a profoundly moving and frightening experience, and so magical to watch.

In our improv troupe, when someone assumes the role of a superhero or bird or some other flying character, the troupe will come together to “fly” the individual by lifting that person into the air (or catching them as they jump). It is a profoundly moving and frightening experience, and so magical to watch.

STOP!

Back on the Wagon…for when you’ve been away too long.

It’s been too long since I’ve haunted these pages.  I am sorry.  I do have reasons…good ones…but I promised consistency, didn’t I? And I love this place here that we’ve created together.  A place where I can turn raw sentiment into flowery words; where I can share the things God is teaching me;  where I can ask hard questions and maybe sometimes get answers, but most times just get support. Most of all, a place, where you can find these things too (I hope).  But I haven’t been around much lately….I kind of fell off the wagon, eh?

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This is the wagon I hopped on…Captivating Heart 2013

This year’s Captivating Heart was the best yet.  Sixty women from 5 states joined us in Oklahoma for our second year.  We’ve already begun to plan our third- perhaps two events next year.  And, what I’ve found is that there is “Administrative Leader Cari” and “Creative Writer Cari”, but they don’t tend to inhabit the same time and space well.

I did have moments when God’s beauty was just so breathtaking that I wanted to pick up my pen and write…

Like this one…

All photo credits - Brandi Jones

All photo credits – Brandi Jones

and this one…

Photo credit Brandi Jones

Photo credit Brandi Jones

I have long wanted to capture in words what my heart has been learning in real time, but the words don’t come…and the time is short…and I’m real sorry ’bout that.  Now that I am exiting this very busy speaking season, I hope to experience a flurry of writing! I hope to regail you with wise (and maybe even some funny) stories.  So stay tuned…there is so much more to come!

New Life Ranch Chapel, Captivating Heart 2013. Photo credit Brandi Jones

New Life Ranch Chapel, Captivating Heart 2013. Photo credit Brandi Jones

 

Enjoying the fire pit at Captivating Heart 2013

Enjoying the fire pit at Captivating Heart 2013

 

 

Five Minute Friday- Truth

It’s been soooo long….

since I’ve posted anything of substance…

since I’ve flexed fingers and typed thoughts that were just for the blogosphere and not for a speech, or lesson, or talk….

since I’ve been hanging out ’round these parts at all.  I’m sorry I’ve been away so long…for those of you still here- thanks for sticking around!

I’m a bit rusty at this whole staring at a blinking cursor thing, so I thought I might start slow…with a Five Minute Friday…

 

For only five short, bold, beautiful minutes. Unscripted and unedited. We just write without worrying if it’s just right or not.

Won’t you join us?

Here are the rules:

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.

2. Link back here and invite others to join in.

3. Most importantly: leave a comment for the person who linked up before you – encouraging them in their writing!

OK, are you ready? Give me your best five minutes on:

Today’s prompt is:  Truth

Ready? GO!

What is really truth? How do we know it when we see it?

Is it that moment when spirit rises up to meet spirit…when your whole body recognizes a resonant thought in another?  Is it that moment when you feel the “Yes, and Amen!” to your toes? Is that truth?

Or is it the word that challenges you to the core? The moment when your senses rile and your stomach turns and everything within you screams, “That can’t be it!”

Is it both?  Do we ever know?

My friend says that “All truth is God’s truth,” but I have no idea what that means.

For now, I pray.  Breathe in and breathe out and trust the Spirit within me to guide me.

STOP!

What’s going on ’round here?

Oh my! Has it really been over a month since I posted?  So much for that commitment to consistency, eh? Can you ever forgive me?

Gray T logo (1)-page-0

I have been crazy busy preparing for Captivating Heart 2013.  What you haven’t heard about it? You absolutely MUST join us on Oct 11-13 at New Life Ranch…it is going to be amazing! You can read about what IT is, over here at www.captivatingheart.com.

Or better yet, why don’t you read what Jamie has to say about it over here.

I promise someday soon I will get back to regular posts, but it probably won’t be until mid-October!

Grace and Peace,

Dreams of a Tiny Dancer…for when God-sized dreams are catching

“ What’s a God-sized dream, Mom?”

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She stands with head tilted, blue eyes glinting over her black rimmed glasses, complete with hearts and gold filigree and diamonds that scream her personality for all the world to hear.  She is stunning- this mini version of her father with her “Mom’s instincts.”  (It is, by the way, the greatest compliment I could ever receive that this child of wonder, full of love, would identify her personality as mine.) She munches Great Value BBQ chips in my ear as she reads over my shoulder a blog post written by another dreamer about a launching place.

“Is it a dream that God gives you or is it something that you ask God for?”

Her nine years feel like they have fast-forwarded thirty and I stop reading, struck by the question I echoed just three days earlier as my new friend and I made our way up US Hwy 71 toward a sacred meeting place for dreamers.  I’ve practiced this weekend the art of asking questions as an answer and so I do this now, seeking wisdom in the faith of a child.

“What do you think a God-sized dream is?”

“I think God makes us with dreams inside and with all the things we need to live them out.  What do you say always from the Bible? ‘God created a purpose for you before he created the Earth and created you for a purpose.’ Yeah…so I think he makes us like that.”

I smile.  Ephesians 2:10.  A verse that guides every dream conversation I have.  Never fear, moms, these “littles”, they do listen and take to heart.

“I think you are right on, sweetheart.  Do you have a God-sized dream?”

“Yes.  God gives me the same dream every night.  I’ve dreamt it more times than any other dream I’ve ever had.”

I start to correct her…that the ‘dreams’ we are speaking of aren’t exactly the same kind of dream that one has every night, but before I say anything, she opens her heart and spills out the dreams of a nine year old girl that wants to use her new-found gifts to change the world for Jesus.

“I am a primary dancer for a Christian dance company like Ballet Magnifcat. We are at this big auditorium filled with people and I am dancing with such grace and beauty.  The ballet ends and I am standing in the middle of the stage taking my final bow, someone hands me roses and I step forward and tell the story of Jesus and how he laid down his life for us and how we all need Him everyday. I invite those who don’t know Christ to come to the front and lots of people come to know Him. They come to know Him through my story. They come to know Him through my dance. I bring people to Christ with what God made me to do.  That’s my God-sized dream.”

I am undone by my tiny dancer.

I think back to a late night conversation by the fireplace in Nebraska with another dancer. One older and who has walked much further through life, but who holds onto the dream of dancing for God again.  And to the woman who wished she hadn’t waited 54 years to begin believing in her dream of writing for Jesus.  And to the man who wasn’t sure that he was dreaming his dream or God’s and needed help discerning the difference. I think back on these conversations and I wonder at God’s timing.  I am in awe of the way He has prepared me for this moment through my experience with His dreamers of all shapes and sizes this past weekend.

Gratitude spills over and floods the room.  Thank you, dream sisters and brothers, for sharing your hearts and stories with me, for giving me the opportunity to practice listening and encouraging others in their God-sized dreams.  Thank you, Adonai Ballet Academy for a safe place for my daughter to hone her craft so that she has the skills to live out her dream.  Thank you, Sally for preparing my heart to hear this dream come from hers.  Thank you, Ballet Magnificat for inspiring dancers to dance for God.  Thank you Holley Gerth, for giving me the language around which to speak these hearts aloud.  But mostly, Thank you my Sweet Dreamer for sharing your heart with me and reminding me that I am living my dream of helping others to see theirs right where I am.

Photo credit: Adonai Ballet Academy

Photo credit: Adonai Ballet Academy

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