[God in the Yard] “playing toward God”
Friday, 23 July 2010
I often think about where I was as a child, as a teenager, and about how much I want to go back there sometimes. Jesus said that we’d need to become like little children. It wasn’t a rule, I think – I think He meant to free us to Him with an invitation, “Let the little children come!”
L.L. Barkat notes in Chapter One of God in the Yard that “wisdom” was with God at creation, as a “little child.” I have heard somewhere that “wisdom” in Proverbs can often be replaced with “Jesus,” and the picture for me here of the Son creating with the Father delights.
L.L. writes that children (and even adults) play what life means – in a way that deepens its meaning for both the players and the observers. L’Engle wrote that many actors and actresses she knew made her feel that “an actor in his various roles is trying on aspects of himself, is trying to find out who he is, what is the nature of humankind… If the actor plunges into this openly and vulnerably, he shares his discoveries with the audience; his insights become ours.” (M. L’Engle, The Summer of the Great-Grandmother, p. 60.)
This is how it is for me sometimes when I take pictures; I become a child behind the lens, playing with what I see, discovering who I am and what life is. I think, from much of the feedback I’ve received on my photos, that this deepening reaches those who view my work too.
Claire gave a prompt at High Calling Blogs this week (or was it last? – the days are running together for me!), to take a photo that breaks a rule. She featured two of my rule-keeping photos in her prompt post, and I laughed, because I’d hardly dare be so ordered lately. At least, not on purpose.
I’ve been pushing my limits when I create lately, like my three-year-old. Seeing how much I can get away with and still love what I see and express who I am. To me, “break the rules” isn’t so much a permission to violate something as it is an invitation to discover something. Take your life out of the box and become someone God knows you are. Enter new into the world – and intend it.
I suppose this means living on the edge sometimes. Barkat explains that “an edge is where one habitat meets another,” notes that we are not culturally trained to love edges, but that they “might hold something unseen, unexpected.” (God in the Yard, p. 2.)
I think I am myself an edge – where Spirit-life meets dust and breath, and skin feels too tight to hold my soul.
Things are different at our house this week, different in my heart. I’m walking out from trying to be perfect, rather forced (by tired, by my teething-tired baby, by my refrigerator-burglar toddler, by my own now-frequent doctor appointments) to live full in the moment I’m in, to make the most of my life.
I’d be lying if I said I am okay with all of this. I’ve done some pacing, some heavy breathing, some going-away. I sensed something coming for a while, but I didn’t expect it to look like it does for us right now. Change is not easy for anyone, and its difficulty is compounded in my case by my own need to engage it. Now, more than ever, as I feel the weight of more responsibility forcing me to be grown-up, I need to become like a little child before God who is Father, who cares for needs I cannot begin to meet – in my family or in myself.
The other night, we were coming home from a very long chiropractor visit, just at sunset. As we came down the exit ramp, Piper caught sight of the soft pink-orange skiffing the clouds above us. “Mama, you need to get your cammah,” she said. I’d been thinking the responsible thing – go home, get dinner, get the kids to bed. No time to play tonight. Just remember. I’ve missed sunsets before.
But we got the camera anyway. (I wonder if God and wisdom played together like this in creation, wisdom suggesting as “a little child” what God wanted to do anyway?)
We drove quick to the river to catch the end of the light, and I didn’t intend to break rules, but it rather happened that way, with a longer, hand-held exposure, a tiny bit of wispy blur and unintentional composition. When I shoot, I shoot what my heart sees, and maybe this is wisdom, standing free from the legal, living alive before God who made me in His image, learning to seek His God-heart with all of my human-heart, one habitat meeting another.
Playing toward God – it’s a living-out of a very certain hope. A child knows he is safe because someone else is more than his fears. He knows someone else is taking care of things. His hope for tomorrow is that it will be even better than today. The cultivation of my “alien, stranger, peculiar-people” edge is, I think, what God calls sanctification. Sure, I could “play it safe” and stick here in what makes sense to my dust, live all duty and responsibility – or I can break a few rules that don’t make sense for what my heart knows.
God is more than my fears and my survival struggle. My certain hope is full redemption – I say certain because I know it sure. His Spirit is a seal on my heart, crying “Abba”.
It takes a child to need an Abba. And He made children to play.
related: “find / the moon”
No. 1 — July 23rd, 2010 at 9:52 am
“I think I am myself an edge”
oh, I really liked that…
L.L. Barkat´s last [type] ..You Are Real- Reading- Speeches and Poetry
No. 2 — July 23rd, 2010 at 10:05 am
“He knows that someone is bigger than his fears.”
Kelly you stretch me.
You are becoming a sister to me.
No. 3 — July 23rd, 2010 at 10:27 am
[...] This post was mentioned on Twitter by L.L. Barkat and L.L. Barkat, Kelly Langner Sauer. Kelly Langner Sauer said: "Playing toward God" – a new installment in my #GodintheYard for @llbarkat and some #photoplay for @claireburge http://bit.ly/9E8wL2 [...]
No. 4 — July 23rd, 2010 at 11:11 am
Oh Kelly every breathe of this faith seeking adventure of your life is built on your love for your Savior…and it’s beautiful to see. Thanking for reminding me that many times our walks are delight over duty and play over work. Jesus came to give life abundantly, and to know that at times, we need the lens of a child.
Melissa | Madabella: made beautiful´s last [type] ..Prodigal Sheep- A Mothers Perspective
No. 5 — July 23rd, 2010 at 2:02 pm
Very inspirational.
Duane Scott´s last [type] ..dreaming with a troubled heart
No. 6 — July 23rd, 2010 at 2:41 pm
This post is so rich. I hardly know how to take it all in. Your pictures contain a thousand words times a thousand. This post has a thousand pictures.
I must come back to it.
Anne Lang Bundy´s last [type] ..Question of the Week- Who Killed Jesus
No. 7 — July 23rd, 2010 at 2:55 pm
“I think I am myself an edge …”
I love this, too. A place where spirit meets earth.
Thank you for playing.
kirsten´s last [type] ..kansas – three
No. 8 — July 23rd, 2010 at 4:54 pm
love this post. just had this discussion recently with a friend whilst talking about balancing the responsibilities of being a wife and mother and the need to be creative. i find i am most free and joyful when i let my child heart rule. turn off the nagging adult thoughts about the empty pantry, piles of laundry, the multiplying dust bunnies, the bills to paid and let myself be guided by my children. there is something pure and unfettered about a child’s heart that i think we could each benefit with more of.
you keep mentioning this book, God In The Yard, me thinks it’s time to look into it :)
amanda´s last [type] ..baby g baton rouge newborn photographer
No. 9 — July 23rd, 2010 at 5:11 pm
Life was so much simpler as a child. The older I get, the deeper I long to live like a child. Your writing makes me thirsty and quenches that thirst as your habitat meets His.
No. 10 — July 23rd, 2010 at 5:14 pm
As always I hear myself in your thoughts- especially when you mentioned being the edge. I loved that…it so encapsulates *you* and yet, I could find myself in that thought too.
I find myself on the other side of realizing I needed to grow up, having gone through the oh so painful realization, letting go of perfection…and while I don’t think I am quite ‘out of the woods’ yet nearly two years out, I can tell you that to be where I am now is both utterly surprising and yet perfectly *me*-something I would expect myself to be, yet so far from what i would have imagined for myself, if that makes any sense? I guess in an emotional sister-sense, I am holding out the hand and saying the water is fine and I am here, come on in…
you, as ever, make my heart sing and my thoughts soar.
Joy´s last [type] ..The sparkling flash of morning…
No. 11 — July 23rd, 2010 at 5:22 pm
beautiful.
I live full-time on the edges. I love it here.
No. 12 — July 23rd, 2010 at 8:38 pm
i am almost wondering if it is not our responsibility as adults to see our selves as children, and as we continue living, learning that our human weakness is matched by His strength.
many ideas are going to come a bit at a time.
some of them will be for you.
others to share.
every small step you will be guided
and delight around corners
all things will overlap
blend
and flow
as you trust you will see
the path behind you
as a rainbow of your life
all the colours being used
nance nAncY´s last [type] ..saturday stuff
No. 13 — July 23rd, 2010 at 9:54 pm
Kelly,
I really can’t think of a good comment, actually. Does that ever happen to you? I think because what you write gives me so much to ponder, so much to wonder about and breathe in, that I should leave, think, and then return to comment appropriately. But you know how that goes…I would leave, think, and then not have time to return to comment. So I leave this instead. But I wanted you to know that I read you…think about your words and images…and even when I don’t comment, or say anything particularly meaningful, I am still thinking. And I thank you for that.
No. 14 — October 22nd, 2010 at 6:57 am
[...] freeze-frame celebration “how grace used to drift in with the night” quiet spaces “playing toward God” “find / the [...]
No. 15 — April 28th, 2011 at 3:31 pm
[...] freeze-frame celebration “how grace used to drift in with the night” quiet spaces “playing toward God” “find / the [...]