Life on Thulcandra

It's been hard for me to come up with a title for this blog. It seems too dark and too narrow to have it focused solely on grief, although the mourning process is certainly what instigated it. But I think the point of it is not just as a vehicle to share or vent about my journey of grief. It's more about the tension of living in broken and difficult world without simply giving into the brokenness. There are two extreme responses to this tension that seem really easy to fall into. On end is cynicism, despair, resignation, etc. On the other end is the elevation of pleasure and happiness above all else, and to ignore suffering. Both extremes seem difficult to reconcile with faith in God. Somewhere in between there is the hope of redemption but the acceptance of suffering, the belief in God's goodness even when not all is good around you, loving the giver of the good things rather than the gifts themselves.



This tension has been very palpable for me. I'm very aware of the brokenness of the world right now, and everything I see and experience seems tainted in some way. But falling into a morass of depression or anger doesn't seem wholly possible either. I do still see very tangible ways God is still at work in me and around me. There is still joy in the midst of the pain, represented most often through my kids (who can be depressed around a very affectionate and mushy 3 year-old boy?). Figuring out how to navigate this fallen but not wholly depressing or hopeless world looms in my thoughts a lot.



Given all of that, I have been very drawn to a lot of what I see in C.S. Lewis' writings. I am taking a seminary class on him currently, so have been reading more of his work. One of the overriding themes is how broken the world we live in is. But no matter how dark his depictions are, his characters aren't mystical, otherwordly, and passive, or cynical and despairing. They aren't saints, and it's clear they won't ever be this side of heaven. But they also clearly believe in God's goodness and strive to live out that goodness here on earth as much as possible, despite the adverse conditions they live in. In short, they avoid the extremes of despair or obliviousness. Lewis, in his science fiction trilogy, paints a clear picture of our world being as "bent", dark, and says Earth's true name is "Thulcandra" or the "silent planet", its oppression keeping it from true communion/communication with God. But there are still good people and goodness to be found in this bent world. I'm still trying to figure out how to reconcile the realities of joy and pain in how I live now, to strive after goodness while still feeling the suffering. So really this blog isn't just about mourning, but what it looks like for me to live in Thulcandra.

Back in the Saddle

I've been back at work after my six month sabbatical for two weeks now. I can't really say I came back feeling refreshed and re-energized. Ending the sabbatical felt more like getting out of the hospital after a needed procedure and recovery time rather than returning from a pleasant vacation. It was certainly helpful for me, and probably my family, to function at such a slower pace for such a sustained period of time, particularly during a season when David's job was pretty intense. And I tried to take advantage of the time I had to do as many restful and restorative things as I could think of: reading, swimming, watching movies, prayer retreats, counseling, etc. But I kind of knew going into it that the time away from ministry would more make it possible for me to keep going rather than renew me for the next season. For that reason, I postponed some of the re-visioning for my call and commitment to InterVarsity that I had intended to do during the sabbatical to a later time. I'm just not in a place to make major decisions right now. And I feel fine about staying the course with a ministry I value for another few years until I'm more in a place to decide about the next season of my life.

I have enjoyed reconnecting with the students and staff that I work with. While it was helpful to step back from those relationships during the sabbatical, it certainly wasn't because I didn't value them or enjoy their company. I'm glad to be back in their lives, even if they're getting a somewhat more subdued Anne, at least right now. After all that's gone on this year, I'm curious to see the effects on how I minister to others.

On an unrelated note, I had a somewhat distressing conversation with my son today about politics (who, for those who might not know, is 3). We were looking at a picture in the newspaper and talking about the debate we had on TV last night. I asked him who he would vote for. He thought for a minute and replied, "Papa." I asked, "What about Mama?" He said no, only boys could be president, causing an inward gasp of dismay from me. I protested that girls could be president too, and he thought about that for a minute. "Well," he said, "maybe if you wear glasses, Mama," referring, I'm sure, to a certain VP candidate. I must admit that, personally, I found both comments equally disturbing, but for different reasons. May the conversation be different with him in four years...