Notes from the Season

What do we do when Easter has come, but Lent seems to have continued?

cropped-milos-tonchevski-304529-unsplash.jpg

That is the question I hear the world asking, even though they may not know it. There is a grief in this time that is true and real, and there are fears we all face. This is a time to admit that we are frail, weak, anxious, or disappointed. This is a time to wake up to how much of our self-worth and sense of direction we place on having things to do, being useful, making plans.

And yet. The truth is we have always lived with no guarantee of tomorrow. And so we must learn what it means to live in this bright, glad world anyways. This is what I hope we can all learn to talk about: what this life is and can be. How we live this flesh-and-bones life, hidden with Christ in God, full of the joy of life that does not shy away from death. For the message of Easter is that wherever we walk, through life or death, Christ is waiting for us there.

img_8740

There is so much joy in knowing that He is here, close as our very breath, calling us deeper into His life and the inexhaustible riches of His love. Eternal life is to know Him, and in knowing Him, love Him – and we can know Him here, in this place, in a new and greater way. This is a call to an embodied life that doesn’t just wait for “someday,” but accepts the presence of Christ in our midst, here and now, in these very rooms and relationships and realities.

javier-canada-105843-unsplash

“It is only when in the darkness of this world we discern that Christ has already ‘filled all things with himself’ that these things, whatever else they may be, are revealed and given to us full of meaning and beauty. A Christian is the one who, wherever he looks, finds Christ and rejoices in Him.” – Alexander Schmemman

img_9274

As our lives have seemed to narrow, let our thoughts of God grow grander.

Amen.

milos-tonchevski-304529-unsplash

The Scent of Life

“Wherever we are, this is our school of love.” 

I wrote these words just hours before stepping onto a plane and flying thousands of miles to Kilimanjaro, Tanzania. When it finally touched down on the dark, humid runway, my first immediate, frighteningly honest thought was, “I’m not ready.” 

I tried to talk myself out of it. I knew it really didn’t matter whether or not I was ready – I was here, and there was work to be done, people to care for – love to be learned, right? But the truth is, my brain and body knew the truth. I wasn’t ready. 

What would it mean to be ready? Even after three trips to Tanzania, I have no clue. Every trip confronts me in the exact same and yet entirely different way – with my dependence on comfort and pleasure, my physical weaknesses, and my social and spiritual ones. I am confronted by how little I have to offer, how much I must receive. I am confronted by my smallness. 

Every trip I try to seek out where God is alive and working in these communities. Like a spiritual easter egg hunt, I’m seeking the scent of life, the glimpse of hope and promise. On this trip, I waved the white flag for one entire week. “God is here, God is working,” I wrote. “But I feel like extra baggage.” 

It always takes me a while to remember that this feeling of smallness, of being inconsequential, is actually a good thing. In fact, it’s kind of the point. While my job with an international nonprofit is arguably an important one, the truth is that when I leave the community in two weeks, I did my job well if nobody notices the difference. The leaders I serve and support, they are the ones who are investing in these communities for the long road ahead of them. If, when I leave, they feel seen, heard, and empowered – if this equips them to do their job well in the year ahead – then I have succeeded at strategic smallness. Even better if I can work myself out of a job, help them support and encourage each other even more in the year ahead. 

I am here for two weeks, but they live this. That reality stares me in the face every time I visit. It’s not about building anything that lasts for myself. When I’m gone, they don’t have to miss me. When I accept this, then I am free to encourage and empower others without worrying about myself. Because the bigger point is: If Edward was gone, what would that mean for the community? If Sypora burned out, how would that affect teachers? 

Exactly one week after I arrived in Tanzania, I sat in a circle with eighteen young women pouring out their hearts about all their wrestlings with God. I looked into their eyes as they shared how they felt forgotten or overlooked by God, and struggled with doubts about unanswered prayers. I heard their pain as they told stories of how their trust was broken by others – so how could they truly trust that God is good? I held each story as a precious jewel in my hand. After a week of smallness, I could truly look in their eyes and tell them they were not alone, that sometimes glimpses of God’s goodness could be found most brightly in the eyes of one another. Together, we – the beloved family of God – carry each other and so fulfill the love of Christ. 

God is here. God is working. And maybe, after all, this was exactly the school of love I needed – a reminder that in the midst of my smallness and weakness, He will carry me. He will carry us all. 

The scent of life wafting through the open doors of all our eyes will never see.

 

img_8943

Ash Wednesday

No one argues with dust.

Its sheer presence testifies

To our many yesterdays.

Even now, your body is slowly

Shedding its snakeskin of epidermis

Leaving behind a trail of all

You used to be.

Dust we are always returning to

In the midst of Life.

 

And yet, we bear this paradox

Emblazoned on our forehead:

Eternity within the ashes

Of the spent world

Emptiness that paves the way

For resurrection.

Life we are always returning to

In the midst of death.

 

Have you forgotten

What the Holy One

Can do with dust?

 

IMG_8768

Unveiling

Peel back the layers of darkness

That cover our minds.

Sweep the smoky shadows from our eyes.

Reveal yourself to us once again.

 

We have grown old and blind

In our waiting

We have strained our eyes for

The sweep of the dramatic curtain

The sky broken open in glory.

 

A mourning dove sings.

A sudden tinge of dawn

On the slender horizon.

 

Listen, and you will hear the song

Of all things calling forth from memory

Back from true desire.

 

Listen—

Let us dance along the crevice

Of the trembling dawn

Let us hasten on to meet you

With arms piled full of light.

 

IMG_8438

Best Books of 2019

Well friends, here we are at the beginning of a new decade. In the past ten years my reading habits have gone through transformations, the material has changed dramatically from season to season, but one thing has remained the same: books always have and always will be an important part of my life. Some books have profoundly changed the way I see the world; others have simply kept me up too late at night. Some have met me in a deep and personal place; others have given me eyes outward, in new skills, ideas, and priorities. And some books are simply beautiful or simply fun, and there is a wonderful place for them as well.

So, with no further ado, here is a list of my top books of 2019!

Best Fiction

caleb.jpg

Searching for Caleb- Anne Tyler

I read a few Anne Tyler books at the beginning of 2019, and I hate to admit it, but I really didn’t enjoy them very much. However, I heard a lot of good things about Searching for Caleb, so I decided to give her one more try. Then I couldn’t put it down!

Anne Tyler’s gift is characters – they are full of so many quirky characteristics and often leap off the page in all of their interesting, funny, and sometimes dysfunctional lives. In Searching for Caleb I connected with characters that I still can’t stop thinking about, even nine or ten months later. And to me, that’s a mark of a great book. 

eyes.jpg

Their Eyes Were Watching God – Zora Neal Hurston

This one has been on my list for a long time, but I put it off because I heard it was sad. I’m here to say that it is sad, but it is also beautiful, funny, poignant, and much more powerful than I expected it to be. There is a depth to this book that you miss when trying to explain the plot to someone. There is something about the ending that leaves you wanting to be a better person. And to me, that’s the second mark of a really great book.

Best Spirituality

island

No Man Is An Island – Thomas Merton

Have you ever picked up a book that suddenly answers the questions you’ve been trying to ask for years, but could never quite find the right words? 

I started with Merton’s autobiography this year, then moved on to Seeds of Contemplation. No Man is an Island is, in theory, a “prequel” to Seeds, and after finally finishing it this month it is certainly my favorite of the three. The benefit of reading several of Merton’s books is that I’m also beginning to pick up on his own definition of terms like freedom, charity, and silence. I’ll definitely be re-reading this one.

 

Best Airplane Reads

assimilate

Assimilate or Go Home: Notes from a Failed Missionary

Yet another book that’s been on my list for years! I finally got Mayfield’s book for my trip to Tanzania this past spring, and it was the perfect way to prepare my heart to step into cross-cultural situations. In some ways, Mayfield’s journey has mirrored my own – except in reality she is many steps ahead of me. I’m eagerly looking forward to her next book coming out in 2020!

liturgy

Liturgy of the Ordinary – Tish Harrison Warren

I’d heard recommendations for this book from several friends, so I made sure to bring it along on my trip last spring as well. From the very beginning, she captured me with her simple yet profound weaving of one ordinary day with the ancient rhythms of Christian liturgy. Wouldn’t it be amazing if we could always live our lives with this narrative in mind? 

 

Best Book I Re-Read

faces

Til We Have Faces – CS Lewis

I can never sing the praises of this book enough. After re-reading it again with my book club this year, I was reminded of how surprising this book is – a book full of very real and raw suffering, violent sacrifices, strange mythology – and yet there is something so haunting and piercing about this book that every time, I’m left in tears by the end. Often we have such an anemic idea of love, and this book shatters it over and over again. 

 

Best Biography

beauty

The World Will Be Saved By Beauty – Kate Hennessy

Several years ago, I read The Long Loneliness with very little context for who Dorothy Day was, and the world in which her movement sprang up as the Catholic Worker. I enjoyed the book but often felt confused by all that was left untold, the background which I felt was somehow missing. 

Reading her granddaughter’s loving and honest portrayal of Dorothy’s life, as well as her daughter Tamar, filled in a lot of those gaps for me and gave me a much richer, broader picture of Dorothy’s life. Henessy did a beautiful and tender job at retelling a very complicated story of her family’s past, and I’m so grateful for her courage in doing so.

 

Best Nonfiction

lift

The Moment of Lift – Melinda Gates

I’ve been following Bill and Melinda Gates’ humanitarian work for a while now, but I have to say that I enjoyed and appreciated Melinda’s recent book much more than I anticipated. She hit some very key issues right on the head, and while there are always questions and tensions when cultural differences merge with the power dynamics of money, I really appreciated Melinda’s honest discussion of their mistakes and what they’ve learned along the way. Also, as this quote will show, she really address the heart of issues as well as the surface. 

“Every society says its outsiders are the problem. But the outsiders are not the problem; the urge to create outsiders is the problem. Overcoming that urge is our greatest challenge and our greatest promise. It will take courage and insight, because the people we push to the margins are the ones who trigger in us the feelings we’re afraid of.”

jamie

Life as Jamie Knows It, by Michael Bérubé

This books was delightful, thought-provoking, and a beautifully honoring book from a father about navigating adulthood with his son with Down Syndrome.  By honestly showing his son’s struggles growing up in a world that does not always make space for disability, and giving us a glimpse into the funny and intelligent man that his son is becoming, the author questions many of the narratives around disability and their impact on our communities. “With a combination of stirring memoir and sharp intellectual inquiry, Bérubé tangles with bioethicists, politicians, philosophers, and anyone else who sees disability as an impediment to a life worth living.”

 

Best Poetry

hours

The Book of Hours – Ranier Maria Rilke

I’ve loved certain poems of Rilke for many years, but never sat down and read his entire masterpiece as a whole. It’s really hard to write about poetry, and it’s even harder to write about spiritual poetry. But I carried some of his words with me this year and they were an enormous and beautiful gift. 

 

Best Overall

anamcara

Anam Cara – John O’Donohue

I stumbled upon John O’Donohue’s On Being podcast at the beginning of the year, and immediately I felt a flash of kinship with this incredible soul. Since then I’ve read almost every book he’s written and it has been such a rich part of this year. Although he and I may not see eye to eye in everything, I so appreciate his insistence that there is so much more to us, and to our world, than the simply functional and production-oriented value often given to people and our world. He has a deep and multi-faced understanding of what it means to be truly human, and I am a much better person for encountering him. 

placemaker

Placemaker – Christie Purifoy

I read Christie’s first book Roots and Sky early this year, then was thrilled to discover that her second book was coming out in only a few months. The timing was perfect – I picked up Placemaker just as I had returned home from a trip and was seriously questioning so many things about my life. How could I put down roots and risk my heart while at the same time live a life that has begun to feel slightly nomadic? What does it mean to live in a place well, no matter how long you live there? Was any of it – getting to know neighbors, making spaces of beauty, planting flowers – worth it in the end? I’ve now made it a practice to re-read Placemaker when I return from a trip and need to recalibrate my heart and mind into what it means to live well here and now. 

 

Runners up: Becoming (Michelle Obama), Middlemarch (George Elliot) , Autumn Light (Pico Iyer)

 

And, as always, my ever-increasing list for 2020. You’ll notice I’ve made a big effort to include lots of fiction this year, as I always end up reading much more nonfiction as the year progresses:

Authors:

Evelyn Underhill

Madeleine L’Engle

Virgina Woolf

Richard Twiss 

Soong-Chan Rah

Books:

The Myth of the American Dream by D L Mayfield

Try Softer by Aundi Kolber

Dare to Lead by Brene Brown

Another Wendell Berry Novel (any suggestions?)

The Ungrateful Refugee by Dina Nayeri

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Bronte

The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake by Aimee Bender

The City and the City by China Miéville

The House of the Spirits by Isabelle Allende

A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry

Brave Souls by Belinda Bauman

 

I also want to make it my goal to re-read some of my favorite books of years past. Here are a few books I think I would benefit from re-reading this year: 

Nonviolent Communication

For the Life of the World

Anam Cara 

Embracing the Body

Becoming Human

 

How about you? What are you planning to read this year?

 

Poem for a New Year

We will never know

If the trees ask the sap to rise

Beg the light to become blossom

Open their slender bodies

To swell and ripen into fruit.

 

We will never know if they call the birds

Who come to them in their dreams.

 

We can only ask ourselves:

Will I beg the light to rise in me

Or stand dormant?

 

We can only say, Come to me.

Come and do not delay.

NewYearPPP

ChristmasPPP

Alleluia – He has come!

Receive the news you’d lost

The name of hope for

Dance with awe in this most

Undeserved rain:

Our Father did not leave us

As orphans!

Our King comes with wind

And wild-wonder in His train!

 

O Christ!

O dearest Comer

We beat the drum of our hearts in thanks

We crush your gift to ourselves in love

We pour our tears on your feet in praise

And it is never enough for this joy!

For when the death was darkest

You came.

 

 

Merry Christmas from the Funkhousers!

2019 is coming to a close, and what a year it’s been. In so many ways, it has been a year of healing, wholeness, and increasing hopefulness for whatever lies ahead in 2020. We hope you too feel surrounded by the warmth of this season and the seeds of new life that have been planted in your soul.

To give you a quick overview of this year for the Funkhouser family:

  • In early 2019, Ben was accepted into the School of Social Work at Portland State University! (Cue the confetti!!) This dream was many years in the making and we were thrilled to make the transition into college students again. He began classes in September and has another year and two-thirds to go before receiving his MSW.
  • In February Jenna traveled to Tanzania again with Loom, and loved getting to reconnect with friends and partners there. She has also perfected her recipe for Tanzanian ginger tea and would love to share a cup with you!
  • In May, Jenna broke her wrist in a freak accident on the way to jury duty (she’s finally ready to talk about it). Thankfully, it was a smooth healing process and didn’t interfere too much with her plans for summer hiking, camping, and kayaking!
  • In June we both traveled to Minnesota for a family wedding that became the best sort of reunion. It was wonderful to spend a few days on the lake as well with family and make new memories together.
  • This summer was also full of many wonderful outdoor adventures, including a rafting trip with friends, three camping trips, and a college reunion on Mt. Hood. That was certainly one of the highlights, as well as a camping trip to Crater Lake with Ben’s family. We’re so thankful for all the friends who love to soak up the beauty of Oregon with us!
  • In August, we moved yet again – this time into housing near Ben’s school specifically for students. We love living the downtown life and making our cozy little flat a home. You’re welcome anytime!
  • Jenna traveled with Loom again in October to be part of a training at the World Without Orphans forum in Thailand, then visited a friend in Indonesia. This was definitely one of the highlights of her year – you can read more about it here!
  • We continue to be richly blessed by friendships – including one family who arrived this April from Afghanistan. We’ve kept trying new recipes and love seeing food or a generous cup of tea bring people together.

If we’re being honest, both of us came into 2019 feeling a bit fragmented and pretty weary. We entered the year in a season of waiting and fragile beginnings, and it’s been incredible to see how those little seeds have begun to grow into something nourishing and beautiful. We made a commitment this year to prioritize beauty and the practice of finding and experiencing God in all things – and it has made each season such a rich journey, even in the midst of struggle and heartache.

Now, as we head into a new year full of new dreams and new adventures, we pray that God would give us the eyes to see Him in places the world often overlooks, to keep embracing rhythms of wholeness, and to keep learning how to become our truest selves in Him.

We pray that this blessing from John O’Donohue would be true for each of you as well:

May you recognize in your life the presence, power, and light of your soul.

May you realize that you are never alone.

May you have respect for your own individuality and difference.

May you realize that the shape of your soul is unique;

that you have a special destiny here,

that behind the facade of your life there is something

beautiful, good, and eternal happening.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.