Kingdom Come

I've been working on a new series illustrating the Lord's Prayer. As I worked on these images, meditating & thinking about my daily interactions & some big picture decisions, I felt God asking me two things (as Jesus asked His disciples up on the mountain):

• Sit with HIM & wait, just a little longer. 

• Stay awake. Be present. 

So simple, but oh so difficult. Stay awake & present in my feelings & emotions, feel both hurt & the fullness of love, accept each moment for what it is & do not disassociate to cope or numb out.  This is no small task, most of us do not stay awake or show up fully to each moment. Most of us walk in our lives very much asleep to ourselves & because we can not go there within ourselves, we are also asleep to those around us. This posture I have been cultivating has infiltrated the milliseconds of my life & at the same time flipped big picture decisions and made them & my life more full & whole. I feel like I have barely woken up, this is just a taste of what the fullness of Kingdom here & now means! 

This is Kingdom stuff & it is powerful. 

“Jesus Said, the kingdom of God is here and now, which means it’s not somewhere else and later.” -JIm Palmer 

Meditating on the Lord's Prayer, in it's simple call for Kingdom come, is a way to sit at the feet of Jesus & stay awake.

Jesus went up on a mountain and He sat down. His disciples gathered around Him.

And asked “Teacher, would you teach us your way of prayer?”

Jesus said, Here is how you pray: 

Our Father in heaven,

let Your name remain holy.

May your Kingdom come. 

[May your will be accomplished on earth as it is in heaven.]

Give us each day that day’s bread—

no more, no less

And forgive us our debts 

as we forgive those who owe us something.

Lead us not into temptation,

but deliver us from evil.

Let Your kingdom be,

and let it be powerful and glorious forever. 

Amen.

*These illustrations are being used with the toddler curriculum at Ecclesia throughout Lent & the translation used is The Voice. 

Station 10. Jesus Is Stripped

I worked on a 'Station of the Cross' this year which is a traditional set of stations used to walk thru the steps that Jesus took as He was being led to His death.  Ecclesia asks different artists in and around the community to make an art piece for each station.  It is being displayed on the gallery walls at Ecclesia for the entirety of Lent.  The station I did this year is an interactive art installation.

The station dialogue, which I was given:
Jesus Is Stripped 

We adore you, O Christ, and we bless you. Because by your holy cross you have redeemed the world. 

The governor's soldiers took Jesus into the great hall, gathered a great crowd, and stripped Jesus of His clothes, draped him in a bold scarlet cloak, the kind that soldiers sometimes wore. They gathered some thorny vines, wove them into a crown, and perched that crown upon his head. They stuck a reed in His right hand and then they knelt before Him, this inside-out, upside-down King. They mocked Him with catcalls.  

I wanted to focus on the internal work that Jesus being being stripped represents to us spiritually, so I used a piece of writing from a time where I felt I was unraveling and loosing everything I had once felt was my identity.

The Sound of it all Unraveling

There are some things that you should let unravel.Some things that, try as you might, are too frayed to be put back together.You can patch and sew and work... but it will still only be rags.
I think this is the case.
So I am putting up my darning needles and putting away the scraps of fabric used for patching.I am letting it all fall down around me. Look away if you don't like what you see. Don't be afraid, don't feel bad for me, don't feel the need to throw a blanket around my shoulders. 
Sorry if this isn't what you wanted to see from me.But my Father loves me and thinks that I am more beautiful than the pile of rags I was crafting to hide myself.This is between Him.... and me.

Imagery came forward, drawing itself out of the painful story of the loss of literally everything.

Pain - whether it's strategic or simply unjust Needles Unraveled & tattered cloth Patching & mending - the ways we try to craft and protect Seeds - tiny hope, something found in the lossIdentity 

I knew that I wanted to use a piece of writing that I felt related personally to the station & so I went there, hopefully I won't end up with too bad of a vulnerability hangover. It feels interesting & even uncomfortable to put yourself up on display in this way.  But it feels wonderful to have people interact and relate to it too. Pain is a powerful connection point, and this painful story is a deep archetype for us to all tap into.
Which is why I made the piece interactive.

I gave the viewer squares of gauze fabric & different sized needles with the following instructions:

• Think about the things you do, the things you own, the things that make your life ‘yours’.

• Think about the things that make you safe, the things that make you accepted & the things that make you comfortable. 

• Hold those things as you let the fabric you hold fray.
  
• You might let this cloth fall to the ground. 

You might rip it apart. You might stomp it. 

• What about those things are false? 

What about those things are crafted to hide?

•  Take a piece of cloth in your hands. Feel the threads between your fingers. 
• What about those things are you being asked to leave to let them be stripped away? 

• When you have something in mind, grab a pin & attach the cloth to the 3rd circle.  

• Pray. 

Let Him hold you in the loss. Let Him fill that space with His Love, Acceptance & Safety. 

I'll post after photos, but I have been really pleased to see the station used a lot over Ash Wednesday services. 

bringing home heart's work

running these shifty words 

in my head

over, over

'safety' 

'acceptance' 

'comfort'

I ease out feelings  

using lungs, rising

to soothe

belly constricted

You use the same card 

I threw 

the card I am trying to forcefully out 

as I breathe

I let the feelings that scare me 

engage 

St Augustine mumbles something to me 

and I write a simple prayer 

taking in my own fraternal dark

giving way for care of that place

drawn moves presenting

open, close

you infer yourself

show me my fellow

I call you 'sex kitten' 

aquainting a region of heart's work 

with itself 

oh this good girl bullshit 

all the things I could say with a look

and still pretend 

'who me?'

the close-fitting persona  

crafted to look thoughtless 

all while each detail is contained  

in it's show

slightly disheveled 

a blueprint saying I'm 'Okay' 

with cursive letters 

written in leaking ink 

saying

'I'm not, 

please see'

attend to that heart region 

let it dilate 

breaking character

dissecting peace

'peace I give you 

peace be with you'

I bring it home

granting clemency

drop the (finite) story

Text taken from 'Outlaw Magic 101' By Carolyn Elliott