God said to Moses, “I am who I am.” (Exodus 3:14a NIV)

As I contemplate the first question of the series, several references to “who” come to mind. First, I thought of when Moses met GOD at the burning bush, and in his own way he asked GOD, “Who are you?”  GOD gives Moses this simple, yet somewhat cryptic answer: “I am who I am.” Throughout history, and specifically through the person of Jesus, I believe GOD has been revealing aspects of his identity. (For a more thorough study you might want to consider studying the I AM statements that Jesus made about himself in the gospel of John.)

And then I thought of the blue caterpillar, and how he posed a similar question to Alice. Alice doesn’t have a definitive answer. But she knows that it is a question to be pondered, and her inability to answer the question stems from her existential circumstance. A day where many changes have occurred, and her identity seems to be the least of her concerns.

The question of who can be posed about ourselves or about others. The definition of who from http://www.m-w.com in it’s simplest form says this:

what or which person or people

—used to question a person’s character or authority

Aha! When I ask who, I am not just asking which particular person or people does the who represent, but I want to know more. And especially when I ask it of myself, I am wondering what makes me who I am or who I think I am. What’s my character? What kind of authority do I have? Over myself? Over my life? Over others? Very interesting.

In a blog series, I will never exhaust the existential question of who, but I did want to rouse questions. And I think this is enough to chew on for today. However, I will leave you with some words that ran through my mind, while taking the elevator to work this afternoon.

I am a who,

not a what

nor a when,

nor a where

nor even a how.

I may be a why, yet

mostly I am a who.

How does answering the who question raise other questions for you?

If you have time or inclination, answer the question: “Who am I?” in your journal or make a representative collage.

I would love to hear how you responded to this post in the comments, or on instagram or twitter using #7questions

 

 

 

 

To answer before listening—(Proverbs 18:13a NIV)

I like to ask questions. But sometimes, I’m too distracted to really listen for the answer. Or if I’m really honest, I may ask  a question with an answer already in my mind. To me one of the safest places to ask questions is in my journal.

I have been pondering the basic questions. Those one word questions posed to gain understanding of a story, or even a situation. Who? What? Where? When? How? Why? These questions remind me of the detective stories I watch on TV. The investigator needs to know the who, the where, the when, the what, the how and the why. The why usually leads him or her to the solution of the crime.

I shared yesterday that I was struggling with some sort of spring angst, that led me to sadness. And today, I was wondering if asking myself some questions in my journal might help me process this undefined grief. 

Then I thought, why not blog about these musings? So here I am with six basic question words and one surprise question, which I’m going to save for the last post.

This is how the series looks from my view:

For the next seven weeks, I will pose one of the questions. I might research the meaning of the actual word used for the question and see if it’s origins shed any light on why these questions are part of our existence. It will be like going on a treasure hunt together. I imagine interaction, so if you find out something interesting or have an experience with the question of the week, I invite you to share it via the comments or on twitter or instagram using #7questions. That way we can share our discoveries!

I will plan to post some thoughts about the question on Mondays, then later in the week on Wednesdays, I’ll  share any insights we’ve gathered. If you want to guest post on the question of the week on a Thursday, then let me know at kelrohlf@souldare.com.

I will post prompts and maybe even some ideas for ways to interact with the question using visual arts, like collage, photos or sketches. Since today is a Monday, I will pose the first question tomorrow.

What do you think? You ready to tackle some important questions, and see what kind of quest unfolds?

 

Why are you cast down, O my inner self? And why should you moan over me and be disquieted within me? (Psalm 43:5a)

Do not define yourself by your expectations. Life is full of change–that’s the only thing that’s certain. So protect your dream, but don’t let it limit you. (Corrine Bailey Rae)

Pain happens. It’s not a cut and clear, black and white issue. Most of the time I can attribute the source of my pain to something outside of me. And I could blame April. Or grief or changes, but it’s not easily defined. It pokes at me. Pinches me. Punches me, and pushes me down.

Unsought tears. A lump in my throat, a warm ache. A desire to climb back into some dark cave, and curl up for a little more sleep. I wonder if a seed feels this way, when the soil thaws, and rain soaks down around its kernel of life. I wonder if it cries, “Ouch!” when it’s thin skin begins to stretch and crack and dry out.

The blind seed can’t see that a green sprout pokes out causing this undefined pain.

I feel like a blind seed, uncertain what to do about this sudden pang of sadness.

So, I collage. It takes my mind off the ache.

And the process of gluing disparate pieces of imagery and color together, take me through passages of lament and release, and finally an acceptance, even a desire to let April have its way with me.

Ode to April

April warms and thaws,
and yet has the audacity
to plunge back into
winter’s chill.

April branches reaching
alternately into
blue and gray skies,
straining to unfurl leaves.

April leaves promising
shade on those long
forgotten, humidly hot days,
when once again I plead:

April, bring back your
chilly, sweater born days.

What is your ode to April?

 

Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. (Matthew 6:34 NIV)

Yesterday, I posted this black and white photo of my canvas, as a little April Fool’s day joke. But in reality, I was struggling with what to do next. This self-proclaimed challenge of adding an element a day to the canvas for a whole year was losing it’s charm. I had been away for a week soaking in the California sunshine, snapping photos to add to the project upon my return. I had missed the daily routine, but also savored the break. Still feeding my creative soul, but in a different way.

When we got back home, the end of March was closing in, and I had been at this challenge for ninety days.

From the beginning, this particular idea of showing up to the canvas on a daily basis reminded me of how I approach a whole new year or month or day, and even the turning of seasons. I want to know what’s next!

Over the years, I have learned to be in the moment, but when a new month approaches, I get nervous and restless. I start questioning my life’s purpose and if I’m “doing” what I am supposed to be doing. I let the questions simmer, and I toss and turn at night. And then I wake up the next day, asking these same troublesome questions.

I brew my cup of coffee and sit with the canvas. I tell the questions to take a break. I think about how each day, I do show up to the canvas and my life. And the worry doesn’t change a thing. The thing that makes a difference is acting on what is indicated.

On Thursday, I was sorting and clearing out the accumulation of paper ephemera and fodder that I had collected for future art projects. I am a collector. Each item was inspirational in the moment, but now needed to be released, to open up space for fresh energy and focus for my creative pursuits.

The same is true with my daily routine, some things were inspirational for January, February and March, but now they need to be let go. Fretting about tomorrow, and what will I “do” with my life may be useful for a few moments, but engaging in the now is what truly frees me.

I took a stack of comic papers that I was saving for someday. I ripped them into pieces and glued them to the canvas. A little bit of humor. A way to laugh at myself, and how hard I try to get it right most days.

Today, I woke up again. With coffee in hand, I began thinking about the month of April stretching out before me, allowing anxiety about the future to consume my thoughts. I gazed at the canvas. Would I get back into the daily routine, of just showing up, responding to the colors, using what was at hand to add another element.

No, I was planning ahead, wondering if I had the design right and analyzing whether the composition was leading me in the correct direction. Then I noticed something. The morning sun was adding an element to the canvas. The light was shining through parts of the painting. Mesmerized, I contemplated how I could capture this beauty.

 

After awhile, I knew that I didn’t know how. And really, I couldn’t. A photo would have to be enough. I shared my frustration with my husband. Verbalized my angst about life and the canvas, and confessed, I just want to know what’s next.

I jumped out of my chair, and called over my shoulder. “That’s it. I know what I need to add to the canvas.” I grabbed a bottle of red acrylic ink, contemplated a couple other colors, then set them down. I knew my first instincts had been good in the past, so I committed to the red. I came back to the canvas and added the question: “what’s next?”

And I was satisfied, that my existential questions would be answered in due time.

Like probably tomorrow, when I show up to life and the canvas again, and ask the question that is indicated: “What NOW?”

Journal Idea: Write for five minutes about “What’s NEXT” then write another five minutes about “What NOW” (Or make a collage for each of the topics)

. . . . to know the word that sustains the weary. (Isaiah 50:4 NIV)

Words fascinate me. Back on the first day of 2000, I came across the phrase about how words can sustain the weary. I was a weary homemaker, who wanted to be a world renowned author. I didn’t have the energy to write the great American novel, so I started writing spiritual reflections and sending them out via group emails to my friends and family.

Then I heard about Xanga from my boys, and then later blogspot and wordpress. I dabbled off and on with blogging. Although I still dream about writing that novel, I keep coming back to the amazing truth of how a few hundred words pieced together in paragraphs, and then posted on the internet can impact others for good.

They can provide nourishment for the soul.

Besides writing words, I love to meet other word lovers. A few years ago, when I started blogging regularly, I met Jody Lee Collins through one of the link-ups. We both love the defintions and origins and usage of words. She infuses her words with light, reflecting them brightly at her blog Three Way Light.

Please welcome her today, as she contemplates conjunctions and their use in Scripture.

Parts of Speech—the Elmer’s Glue of Language

By Jody Lee Collins 3 28 16

When I was in Mrs. Jenkins’ 8^th grade English class I learned about the power of “glue” words—those little big words that tie two seemingly disconnected thoughts together—like a zinnia in the middle of a squash plant.

Conjunctions are words and phrases like “so that” or “as”. Or how about “yet” and “although”? Small words that can make all the difference in the world in what we read.

Scripture is full of these transitional words—power wrapped up in two or three letters in words like “let” (more powerful than “yes”, in my humble opinion), or “if” (because there’s always a “then”) and the most stunning 3-letter word of all—“but”—and I mean that in the best way.

Paul’s admonition in Colossians is what got me searching out these glue words to begin with. There’s a tall order after this “as” (so many passages hinge on the dime that is “as”)–

^“Therefore, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in him,  rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving.” (Col. 2:6, 7)

Next is one of my favorite verses about how we then should live with our words and what God expects us to do with them. There’s a “that” AND an “as”, each as powerful as the other–

“The Lord God has given me the tongue of those who are taught, (why, you ask?)
that I may know how to sustain with a word him who is weary.
Morning by morning he awakens he awakens my ear to hear as those who are taught.” (Isaiah 50:4)

Here is why “let” is more powerful than “yes”:

When we use “let” it’s a way of saying “yes,”  AND gives permission to God to work in our life. [There’s a sense of allowing God in.]

“Let what you heard from the beginning abide in you. If what you heard from the beginning abides in you, then you too will abide in the Son and in the Father.” (I John 2:24)

When coupled with an “if/then”–the power of “let” expands our participation.

The glue word “but” provides an opportunity for interjection, a chance for a change of course in what we’re reading. The Old Testament is full of spellbinding stories that lead us to wonder—things look so bad—WHAT is going on? And then there’s the “but God.”

My favorite is the story of Joseph and his brothers. They return to him after abandoning him to die, and as they discover he is now in Pharoah’s house as a ruler, even though they’ve left him for dead, he declares,

“You meant this to harm me, but God has turned it for good.”  (Genesis 50:20)

There’s a passage in the New Testament where the ‘but’ is an exception word, or contrast word, i.e. This means one thing but THAT means another.

For instance, the passage in James 3:17 recounting God’s tall order for true wisdom—

“But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason,
full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere.”

Of course, the reason for all these words is to reveal, if what we believe about Jesus makes
a difference in the way we live.

They’re all just noise, if they don’t make us new.

That’s a mighty big ‘if’ (see what I mean?)

Copyright 2016. All Rights Reserved. Photo and “Parts of Speech-the Elmer’s Glue of Language” by Jody Lee Collins.

Feel free to leave comments below.

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Jody Lee Collins has known Jesus since she was 19 years old and a best friend took her to Calvary Chapel in Costa Mesa, California in the 1970’s. She and her husband have been married 42 years and currently live near Seattle where they worship at a Foursquare Church. She serves in Women’s Ministry and also on the Worship Team. Her two grown children and five grandkids thankfully live less than three hours away and she hugs them whenever she can.

  And just for fun, I (Kel) made a conjunction collage.