outWORD by Matte Downey

I have been rethinking my value these past few days and I realise that I do not agree with God on some things (and that is a bad thing). I do not think my voice is vital and important, so I stay quiet. I think other, more practical matters, are more worthy of attention than I am so I neglect my passions. I do not celebrate all that I am - the wonderful person God made in me - but believe I can find my value in making myself useful. So much of sin is really sabotage . We negate the power of the Creator by stifling the potential of his creation and instead, try to cram it into some two-dimensional version of success or meaning. I am desperately trying to unlock this potential, this dynamite of God in myself and finding it a tumultuous and often frustrating quest. Would that one simple step or word or prayer or attitude adjustment or action could set me free. But I don't know how to get from A to B. Jesus, help me. This yellow Land Rover screamed, "I am beautiful and worth takin

I am trying to get back to some creative projects in my life and it is proving rather difficult. There are just so many practical and necessary tasks and of course, valuble time with people and occasional guests and oh yes ongoing correspondence and my part-time job and then the unexpected and usually welcome interruptions that I like being able to respond to. I find it hard to be creative on cue, but I think it is something I must start to do- schedule my creativity. I have been taking a module in identity (those life lessons God enrols one in and then provides lots of learning opportunities and homework and tests, you know the kind) and today when I was praying for someone while cleaning the bathroom, I realised I was asking God to BE an advocate for them when in fact, he already IS our advocate. So I changed my prayer and it became a declaration of sorts instead of a plea. And I think my life reflects that as well. I live like I am pleading for something more, hoping for somet

Today I started another blog. Don't worry, this one will keep on chugging away, but I felt it was time to bring some fiction out of the closet and see where I can take it. I hope to post the first chapter this week so check it out if you like. The link is on the right side of this blog under My Links, aptly titled, "my book." These are some pictures taken today in my yard. Yes, it is a dreary, cloudy rainy day, but every day, even rainy days, are beautiful. On Sunday night during worship I was reminded that there is beauty in everything that God has had a hand in creating, even if it is tainted or broken or disfigured in some way. Unfortunately, we too often subscribe to the ideas of the world around us when we think of beauty and imagine models or California beaches or movie stars and movie sunsets. I was on YouTube today and the current rage seems to be videos of models falling on the catwalk, one of them quite dramatic as she plunges through a hole in the runway. As

It seems that one never gets too old to deal with identity issues, in fact, I believe we will continue to develop and have opportunities to become more whole in who we are and how we see ourselves as long as we live. This past weekend I was playing poker with friends, and although I kept getting what seemed like great cards in my hand, they amounted to nothing over and over again and my pile of chips went into a steady decline, no matter what tact I tried. At one point I got really frustrated at another set of cards that failed to amount to anything, and I dishearteningly proclaimed, "So much potential, but nothing ever comes of it. It's the story of my life!" And at that moment, the mantra seemed to be true for so much more than poker that I was overwhelmed by the idea that it might really BE the story of my life. I retreated to my bedroom for a few "freak-out tears" and asked God if this was truly the case: if I in fact had failed to do much with the great po

The drain in my bathroom sink had been rather slow for a long time. Last week, I decided to do something about it. I removed the stopper and took a plunger to it, hoping to push free whatever was hampering the flow of water down the drain. I pushed and pulled and plunged and splashed and the longer I did so, the more black chunks of really putrid, unidentifiable scum surfaced in my sink. My solution to this was to vigourously plunge in and plunge more. The black chunks got bigger and lumpier and I was getting slightly grossed out looking at them, so I turned on the tap to rinse them away. Oh oh! The sink began to fill with filthy chunky water and nothing was draining, not even slowly. I plunged and splashed and managed to filthify most everything within 2 feet, but all to no avail. The drain was now completely plugged. Hardly the results I had been looking for. I drove to the store and picked up my second line of assault: Drano. I poured half the bottle into the standing water in the

Today I was sitting at Second Cup drinking a Chai Latte and reading another chapter in Velvet Elvis while my car was having its rear brakes replaced when a thought ran through my mind. What if everything I ever truly wanted is really available in Jesus? And what if that availability is not some future hope, but begins now? What if the only thing stopping me from living in this state of being is my denial of it, my refusal to believe it by refusing to live like it is true? My denial of the completeness of the act of Jesus becoming man and paying every debt I ever owed and erasing every consequence of sin? My insistence that my identity is an incomplete and broken individual instead of a new creation? What would happen if I truly believed and lived like God wanted to dwell with me, here and now, in my present state and that it is totally possible because of Jesus? I am not talking about hype or utopia or great riches or instantaneous healings and miracles everywhere. I am talking abou

This morning I had a revelation. An epiphany, if you will. A few days ago a group of us encountered a very disturbed man who managed to manipulate the discussion into a direction that none of us wanted to go. It was a learning experience for all of us, I think, and it took a toll on me emotionally, no surprise, for I tend to turn these things inward. In hindsight, I realise that I vacated my post as a leader in this group and instead, stood by feeling powerless. I knew something was wrong and should be stopped and yet I froze, feeling inadequate and wondering why no one else did anything. This morning I realised that I acted out of insecurity instead of godly instinct. I usually do not have the strongest personality in a room and often defer to those who do, even if I have insight to offer and the authority to direct things. I often doubt myself and my thoughts, because if someone I like or respect disagrees with me, can my view really be right? I hate the feeling of being isolated and

Whew! I just came back from my third road trip in 7 weeks and though I love traveling and driving, I am glad I didn't say YES to a fourth one to Nashville this week! I am continuing to read Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell and would recommend it to anyone who is interested in truth, reality, and embracing the constantly changing journey of faith in a refreshingly honest and accessible way. One thing he says that has stuck with me is how the reading of the bible has become a solitary practise when it was always meant to be read and discussed and wrestled with in a community setting where questions could be posed and multiple viewpoints, additional knowledge, and various insights could give one a more balanced and definitely more interesting reading experience. In fact, I would daresay that many things that we do privately in our individualistic culture are meant to be done in a community setting, especially where matters of faith and character development are involved. You can't hide i

I was driving home from an osteopath appointment yesterday and turned on the radio just for fun. There was a talk show going on and they were discussing how to make your kids more safety aware, especially regarding strangers. The guest was a police officer who had some interesting things to say. She dispelled a few myths and made some very good points. 1. "Never talk to strangers" is a bad motto to follow. It is normal and expected that children (and adults) will talk to strangers everyday. Instead, she suggested the guideline, "Never go anywhere with anyone unless you talk to us (the parents) first." She said kids should not be made to fear all strangers. Sometimes kids have become lost and the rule, "Never talk to strangers" kept them from asking for help. 2. Some parents say they would rather instill fear in their kids than have them get hurt. The police officer said that making your kids fearful is really a harmful thing, since someone who is fearful i

Today as I was driving to the post office, I started to think about the word "my." The possessive pronoun is a small word, but powerful. I use phrases like "my house, my husband, my church, my job." And yet, these things are clearly not entirely my own to do with as I please. The house is significantly underwritten by the bank and should they desire to do so, that institution may repossess said property and building. The husband has a mind and will of his own and though he is kind, he acts in accordance with his wishes, not mine. The church is a group of people who also have individual free wills and both individually and communally are not subject to my bidding nor my possession. The job is currently done by me but may at any moment in time cease to be "mine" for various reasons. This "my" word is decidedly not all it appears to be nor all that accurate. We assume to possess many things which are not ours for the taking, and in contrast, we clin