Seeing Everything as Spiritual

Everything is Spiritual

All my thoughts on this came together the second I took a few moments to deeply look at a small branch. I highly recommend it.

It is very poetic and beautiful to talk about seeing a flower as spiritual. It is intriguing to hear someone say they found God in the bark of a tree, but is there any weight to these statements?
Is there a way to see everything as spiritual?

I think there is.

In fact, I can think of two ways.

The world was created when the Divine decided to manifest Himself/Herself out of love. The I am was poured out into all the bigness and littleness of everything that is. Space was formed to make room for more Holy and Unique in what we would call tangible. The tree bark is not just tree bark but a Divine creation made from pure and perfect love- and in a way that nothing else can- shows a bit of the Creator. We can learn about God's presence, love and being from the vastness of the ocean and the littleness of an acorn. Each not able to be replaced in the Kingdom.

This changes the way we see everything. We begin to have reverence with every step.  We find purity in every blade of grass. We see grace with each rain drop.

We suddenly want to take perfect care of the earth that has been blessed, the world of lives that hold the essence of the Christ, and the body we have been given.

Sorry, my dear Love, I didn't see you there.. And there... And there.
Sorry we tear you up, step on you, pollute you, spit on you and take control over you.
We are now your servants. Use us to preserve, care for and love you.

If we can pass a dying flower or raccoon without the smallest of empathy and reverence, how will we react to dying humanity?

Jesus talks about a Kingdom that is here. A Kingdom of "on earth as in Heaven." If there was any call He gave us it was the renewal, rehabilitation and redemption of the Earth and all beings that dwell on it.

But first we have to see it.

"Ah, here you are Kingdom of God. Right in front of me. Present in the seed in my palm"

Holy is there. I beg you to look.

The second way to see the spiritual in everything is to realize the reality of "inter-being," inter-being is a word borrowed from Zen monk, Thich Nhat Hanh, who understand the connectedness of all that lives and dwells.

Once you realize the "oneness" of everything that exists you cannot help but feel ultimately  connected and a kinship to all around you.

When we look at a flower we should know that it is not just a flower. The flower is made up of minerals, the earth, the sun, and water. Once it dies it becomes compost that builds more life. The life of the flowers allows us to have the oxygen and release the carbon dioxide that we need to keep on living and giving more life.

The flower is not simply a flower. It is our partner in life.

We also learn that we are composed of atoms that are mostly made of blank space. The atom can attach and detach after death. What once made the flower, Ghandi or the rain now makes us.

It is not just a pebble, it is made of the same stuff that makes us. We are connected.

St Francis knew his kinship to all. He knew to address brother bear and sister moon as family. He was not going to pretend they were not as sacred as scripture or prayer.

I can't pretend that crossing paths with a fox feeds me more than a psalm.

Jesus continually finds life in everything and family in everyone. It is all Holy ground we tread on; try taking off your shoes and feel it; be overtaken by it.

Try again to pass by the dying raccoon or begging Lazarus.
You will only see yourself and the Divine and it will become much harder to turn away.

These things don't need you to see them to continue giving you life or being Holy, but you will be made new by the dance of the leaves in the wind or the rays of the sun if you would allow them to penetrate your soul. Open your "third eye" to see the world made new, the kingdom of God, the grace of the Divine and to find more of yourself.


"God has no hands but ours, no bread but the bread we bake, no prayers but the ones we make, whether we know what we're doing or not. When Christians speak of the mystery of the incarnation, this is what they mean: for reasons beyond anyone's understanding, God has decided to be made known in flesh. Matter matters to God. The most ordinary things are drenched in divine possibility. Pronouncing blessing on them is the least we can do. " -Barbara Brown Taylor

The Dark Cloud

There has to be some sort of supreme, holy sort of unconditional love

I have a yearning; a holy yearning, an organic yearning, a yearning not of this world within me. 

The yearning, the desire is almost solely what tells me I am more than just alive, I am eternal. There is redemption on the other side. 

Peace darling Carli. The Divine says to me. 

"Poor dear, my poor poor baby." as Barbara Brown says.

"There is something perfectly holy and complete out there waiting for you." It still whispers.

Maybe the whole point of this is to believe in that redemption. Or maybe the whole point is prepare for that redemption. Or maybe the whole point is just to know of that redemption.  

Whatever it is- my desire for a deeper love- a holy love- is still met with something. 

My heart burns and then my heart sings a song asking for something to manifest itself to me. 

As I have learned the holiest of things are the things that have no name. That cannot be talked about. That are not nothing but something. Just some thing. Some thing that is out there somewhere. An energy as much as a reality. Something out there and something within me. But it is there. Hope becomes manifested into a tangible thing. Just some thing. 

The things that are within me; The desires, sufferings, yearnings, hopes and loves as much a reality as the chair in front me. The senses that perceive the chair are as elusive as the desire to be uneqivically loved. I chose to believe in the elusive, the unexplained, the felt, the untouchable, the unperceived as well as the perceived. It is all there and not there. It is all in the wilderness and all in my spirit. This moment proves all moments. This breath all breaths. The mountain proves a Divine. Sex proves a maker. Bread proves a saviour. Love proves a spirit. My understanding of these things proves there is something out there connecting to that understanding. To me. 

I am beginning to realize you cannot name this energy. You cannot call out to the sacred with a name. You cannot tame the sacred or make him/her what you want of it. 

Language is too small. Too concrete. Our calling the Divine one thing or the next thing will not make him/her that. Language only changes our perceptions; not who He/She is. Sit in the elusive for a while with no words or language. No theology or ideas. Feel what you cannot think. Believe in the things that are made of "some thing" but not tangible. Escape humanity, not able to fully understand, but able to try. Use humanity, find the holy in a sunset,  in digging in the dirt or in making supper. Expand yourself in an attempt to meet the sacred. Grow in an attempt to understand the Divines bigness, wildness, deepness.  Get over yourself and go within yourself to see more of Yahweh. 

I wonder what the dark cloud above Moses would say to our desire to put the sacred in a box. What it would say to us announcing what the Divine is for and against and of making those things into religions of exclusion and safety? What would that dark cloud say to our violence when we set our sites on the specifics and kill those that disagree?  I know what Jesus would say. He would point to a different kingdom. A kingdom unexplained. An elusive kingdom that is here and there and within. He would talk about the lilies of the field and the poor. He would point to that dark cloud. 

"Aslan is not a tame lion." 

We won't ever be fully enlightened to the sacred's vastness, but we will grow. Growing is essential to humanity. Humanity is essential to meeting the Divine and taking moments away from humanity is essential to meeting the Divine. Continue this and continue to grow.       

A few Stories...

I have a couple stories for you.
Just because I think they are cool and worth telling.

Penn Station 

Before we left for Costa Rica I was working at a Children's Camp for kids with special needs with Christian Horizons, and one of the last days I injured my back during an incident involving a restraint. A few days later I was off in a plane and found myself hiking for hours up and then back down a mountain, that felt like it had 90 degree hills. Lets just say I was in, what felt like at times, excruciating pain, but I made a deal with myself after climbing up to the highest reserve that I wouldn't complain about it and I would push through the pain. On our way back we had a long layover in New York, and decided to go tour New York City. After a long day of walking around the bright city lights I was in so much pain I was fighting back tears.
We were waiting for our train at Penn Station to go back to the hotel to grab our stuff and get to the airport.
Everyone was tired (and kind of grumpy) and when the train got there everyone ran for it.
I had plunked myself down on the ground while we were waiting, and all of sudden found myself stuck. I was trying to get up and run with the group to the train, but it felt like my brain and the nerves in my back were no longer connected. I started losing sight of everyone in our group, and thought that I would actually be left behind.
Just then I see a hand reach down to where I was at. I looked up to see a smiling, friendly face of a young man who was developmentally disabled. He simply said "Do you need help?"
I humbly and happily accepted his hand and he walked with me to the train.
As I was dozing off in the train I thought about the symbolism behind him physically helping me, since I always try to communicate how it is a partnership of teacher/learner and helper/helped with the people I work with. I smiled to myself thinking of how this story brought it to life with something tangible.
It took someone who often gets left behind to notice someone that needed help and he didn't hesitate to be that help.
Just beautiful.  


Frank, the Homeless Poet, and My Friend Sebastian 

Last week Ben and I took out two missionaries our church supports from India, Frank and Bapu. We had so much fun eating out and touring around Ottawa with them. While we were at lunch we were picking Franks brain, being the adventurous quirky 78 year old man he is, we figured we could learn a thing or two from his 50 years in the mission field. He had so many insights into many of life's mysteries, but we found one of the coolest things about him was that he was so confident in who he was and who God was, that he didn't really care too much about the rest of it, or how others chose to spend their time or money. He was a man that treasured solitude and a moment with the Divine and it was as though he came to the place where he actually started knowing and acting grace. As he talked about the differences between this society and India, he didn't condemn the way western society operates (which I tend to do), he knew the Christians in this context were as covered by grace as he was, and it showed he truly believed it. So cool.
So as we sat and listened to all these things a strange thought came to me. The waitress would come every so often and we would stop talking and either give our order or compliment the food and then when she left get back to talking. I thought about how this waitress and so many others, like the barista that later took our drink order, would interact with Frank and probably never know all the wisdom he holds or that he houses, feeds and educates currently 1500 children in India.

Now hold that thought.

That same day as we were walking around downtown Ottawa I noticed a homeless man sitting with a bunch of cardboard standing up beside him, I knelt down beside him and realized it was poems written with marker on these pieces of cardboard. I asked him if he minded if I read them, and he happily and humbly agreed. As I read them, particularly one called "isolation" I was awestruck and touched. They were so beautiful and insightful. The words came to life on those small, cut out, dirty pieces of cardboard.
And then a similar thought came to mind, so many people would pass this man on the street everyday and never stop, never wonder, and never know the compelling talent and poet that he was. They would never get the opportunity to be touched by his words or taught by his depth of understanding the human condition.

Now hold that thought.

A week later I found out that a rather large church in Ottawa was running a second hand sale to raise money for Christian Horizons Global. Now I knew my friend Sebastian, a person I support at L'Arche, would be interested in going to this because he never turns down an opportunity to go to church. I arrived to pick him up that evening and we went off to enjoy the music and rummage through the second hand treats. Sebastian is someone that is always full of joy. He make me belly laugh on a regular basis. As we got to the church we began looking around at the goodies and Sebastian, being the friendly man that he is, began interacting with people. I was a little put off because many of the people he talked to didn't even bother responding to him or his questions. He usually greets people with "What's your name?" followed by "Do you like movies?" People just kept moving along and ignoring his presence. We sat for the worship and bought some of our things and left. Him completely unfazed by any of it, he is who he is, and he is going to be full of joy even if you don't answer his questions, but it still bothered me. I vocalized some of my frustrations with my dear Marika who came along with Sebastian and I. Being reminded again of Frank and the homeless man and how people never stop to notice.  Every person in that place would have been better off knowing the shining light that is Sebastian, but no one did, and that is kind of sad to me.

Now you can stop holding those thoughts.
Take some time to know the people around you, stop for a minute, be open to your brothers and sisters, create an accepting community to surround you, and treat everyone with tenderness.
This is not just for others but also for yourself.
You never know if you will meet Frank, the homeless poet or my friend Sebastian that could make your life a little brighter and more full.  

My Jesus

Every time I pass by one of those signs in front of churches, I always roll my eyes.
It's always something so cheesy.
Last night it was "God can do anything but fail." BLEH.
They just always seem to fall so short of the message that would reach people.
I always ask people, who's opinions I respect, what they feel is the most important message, what they believe would be the single most vital thing to get across to people suffering about who Jesus is.
I asked Pastor Alex this when we were in Costa Rica, really feeling like if anyone was to know it was him, who is serving suffering people all the time.
His answer, through broken english, was simple and through a means; with action, with serving, with meeting people where THEY are at you bring Love, Acceptance and Grace. And then he reminded me that his church is full of people he met in bars, dumpsters, and brothels and range from ex prostitutes to ex hitmen.

After passing by the church sign yesterday I was trying to think of the message I would want to get across, what I would want the countless suffering people to know as they passed by about my Jesus.

Jesus is a radical adventurer, a radical lover, a radical philosopher/theologian, a radical servant, a radical Father/Friend/Mentor; a radical hippie.
He is full of radical selflessness, radical acceptance, radical grace, radical forgiveness, radical passion and radical peace. 
He wants to know you intimately, wholly, honestly, and deeply
And not despite it all but with it all;
He wants to love you fully, unconditionally, passionately, beautifully, flawlessly, and furiously  

I need a bigger sign.

My Life's Message

I feel like I am one of the luckiest people alive. I have been blessed with some of the most beautiful people to share life with.

These people are kind. Real. Vulnerable. Funny. Patient. Accepting. Each one brings me closer to the Divine and each teaches me a little more about my own soul that I didn't know before.

Don't get me wrong these people are not perfect, in fact, according to much of societies standards they are far from perfect. They are "broken." They are "disabled."

Someone recently asked me why I decided to become a Developmental Service Worker, a question I have been asked a million times, but all of a sudden the real reason hit me in the face.

I had just before that moment noticed that not everyone is comfortable around people with developmental disabilities, a phenomenon to me. Of course I knew those people out there, the ones that gave me looks everytime I went to the mall or park with someone I support, but in my mind those were uneducated or just plain terrible people, but it had never occurred to me that well intentioned, well educated people could feel the same way.
The reason this was such a phenomenon to me was because if I walked into a party of people I didn't know, and was uncomfortably eating appetizers and trying to pick someone to have a conversation with, if I saw someone with a disability I would naturally go to them.

Now, saying all this when this person asked me why I had become a Developmental Service Worker it finally made sense why I felt more comfortable around people with disabilities. Why I would approach that person at the party first.

It was in highschool, a place a lot of us felt broken, excluded, and in many instances worthless (which pretty much sums up my highschool experience), that I first started volunteering in the special needs room at my school. At the time it was mostly because I wanted something to do during my lunches, so I wouldn't be alone, but I found something a lot more beautiful than an escape.

I found a place of acceptance.

It became clear that in this place no matter what you've done, no matter what flaws you had, no matter what society said was wrong with you, no matter what disability you had (and don't fool yourself we ALL have disabilities), you were accepted here.

It reminded me of the kind of community that Jesus would have sought out. The kind that was a little broken, a little rough around the edges, but one that knew their humanity, knew their flaws and was open to others and to Him.

I have said many times that you don't know what a real church is supposed to be like until you go to a group home. And now "group home" is a taboo term, but I love it. It is a group of people trying to make a safe haven, a home. The strong helping the weak, the weak teaching the strong about their vulnerable humanity. A trust and love needed between all. Diversity among all, but still a connection as beings created by the same Love. When I walk into a church, I would love to see the same thing.

This year I made a list of things I wanted to accomplish. And one of them was Advocate in a Real Way for people with developmental disabilities. And the only way I could think of doing that was in this forum. I want others to understand what I have, so that the gap between able bodied and disabled would be closed, once everyone realized there is no such thing as able bodied, and there is so much to learn from those that we cast away and say are "too disabled." Maybe it's because we don't want to see ourselves in them, maybe it's because we don't want our own humanity laid in front of us, or because we don't want to see there isn't much difference between this person and us.

Maybe we are just scared.

I'll let you know right now, there isn't much difference between that person and you. Once you see yourself as a child of the Creator, even just as a being with a soul, you will see there isn't much separating you from everyone else, disabled or not.

I truly pray you will find this community. That you will go out of your way to seek out a friendship with people with disabilities, and not to help them or with the mindset you are going to bring something to them, but to actually learn from them and allow them to show you what friendship and acceptance is really like. Something really amazing happens when you become in touch with your Humanity, it is much easier to distinguish between you and God and you meet Him in a whole new way.

This is my life's message. If I only had one thing left to say to the world, I truly believe it would be this.   Next time you're at a party, looking for someone to talk to, go to the same person I would.
I promise you will find a friend.