outWORD by Matte Downey

I was on the subway a few days ago and noticed an older man with an odd hairstyle. Long, graying brown strands were tied in a thin ponytail at the back of his neck. There was nothing strange about this, but the top two-thirds of his head was covered with a thick, medium brown crown of straight, perfectly combed hair. The point at which the graying, uneven strands met the brown cap was obvious to me, even from a quick glance halfway across the subway car. I looked at this aging man for a few minutes, wondering why he would wear such a badly matched wig and trying to discern if it really made him feel better about himself. I came to no conclusions about him, but did come up with some questions about my own habits. We all do things to change our appearance slightly - for the better, we hope. I dye my hair, I wear make-up most days, I shave my legs (more often in summer than in winter), and I wear clothes that accent certain parts of my body and camouflage others. The goal is to have this ...

I landed back at home on Monday night. In the two days since my vacation officially ended, the treadmill of university life has been going at a steady, fast jog. I bought my books, attended my first Method in Theology class, met with my advisor, began my stint as a TA in Christian Spirituality, and finished notes on another Underhill book for my ongoing reading course. But before I leave the vacation totally behind, I want to savour a few of the moments in those ten days that stood out. They were not moments that one would normally think of when relating vacation highlights. They were not spectacular adventures, awe-inspiring views, or once-in-a-lifetime events. Or maybe they were. All I know is that these precious moments were offered to me like a finely prepared meal of grace and mercy, and I sought to partake of them as best I could. My mother has volunteered at a local personal care facility for many years, and she asked if we wanted to stop in and see an uncle that was now challe...

It is interesting being back in the place where I grew up. While there are a lot of positive memories here, there are also some dark ones, and I was surprised to have a few of them surface on this trip back to the prairies. One of my responses was to get annoyed at the small town dynamic and the restrictive nature of this whole place. And then I realised that freedom is never an external issue: it is a battle that is won or lost in my own soul. The fact that this place could call to life feelings of disappointment that made me want to leave town was not primarily an indication of the shortcomings of said community, but a sign that I was not truly free inside. Freedom is free anywhere! That's its nature. So I went to the only place that always shows me a way out of my every predicament: the place of surrender. I told God that I was willing to let go all the disappointment (legitimate and illegitimate), forgive all the misunderstandings, and release all the idealistic expectations an...

Dean and I are on day 4 of our vacation in Manitoba. So far, the days have been full. Hours of travel time, a visit to the farmer's market, shopping for school clothes, reading stories and playing "hide Mr. Lion" with my niece, a brief overnight trip to North Dakota, and much, oh much too much, eating. This afternoon as we were driving into Winnipeg, I asked myself, "Is this really a vacation?" Yes, it is a change of pace, and it is good to see the family, but the list of activities to do and people to see is getting longer, and there are several tasks that I have to keep on top of for school, not to mention some reading and writing that I can't neglect. The thing that probably bothers me the most is that I am not as joyful, energetic, and passionate about life as I want to be. A vacation sounds exactly like what I need, and yet, I am finding that rest is one of the hardest things to do really well. Spending time with a 2-year-old makes one realise how young...

The past week has been a flurry of house guests, meetings, welcoming newcomers to Montreal, and trying to get through some books for my reading course before we leave on vacation. Another thing I did this week was to write a short article answering the question, "Why theology?" In case you have ever wondered why people study theology, here is one person's explanation (that would be me). The Theology Adventure Everyone has their own reasons for exploring a discipline. Sometimes classes in a specific genre happen to work out best in your schedule. Or a particular avenue of study may be the most attractive and least painful of your available options. Perhaps you have always had a curiosity about a certain subject and decide to try a class or two to test the waters. There is also the possibility that family and friends influence your decision, offering solicited and no doubt, some unsolicited, advice. Whatever the situation, the best case scenario is that you are in a program...

I just finished an online spiritual formation course. The final assignment was a creative project based on some concepts we studied over the last 4 weeks. Usually, ideas line up in my brain and eagerly pepper me with scenarios for possible projects. But this week, much to my dismay, everything was silent. On Saturday, I tried to put some ideas down on paper, but after three attempts to come up with something creative (all of them whined about the fact that I was uninspired), I stopped. What do you do when you lack inspiration? Everything seems deflated and limp, void of life. Words fall flat - monotone and without meaning. Music becomes mechanical. I abandoned another idea mid-sentence and scribbled two words beneath the mess: phone book. My lack of inspiration was reminding me of a saying. When something does not hold our interest, we say that it is about as exciting as reading the phone book. On the other hand, it is also said of someone who has great charisma that they can read the ...

I am typing this very carefully. Yesterday, I went to see my osteopath because my right arm has been a bit sore and on occasion, I have felt slight tingling in my fingers. Not good. I have been doing a lot of reading and taking notes (typing on my laptop) this summer, so I figured I had better get it checked out. She worked my arm over real good and then warned me that I was 'this far' (put your forefinger and thumb a few inches apart) from developing tendonitis. Yikes! The cause is my very unergonomic way of sitting at my desk when I am studying. Usually I am so involved in what I am reading or writing that I am not aware of how contorted and tense my body is while I am doing it. My body is probably sending me signals like, "Hey, rest your arms on the desk, stop hunching over, don't twist yourself to one side like that," but I am not listening to the subtle hints. This morning, in the shower, I was contemplating how to get through a heavy day of reading and writi...

This week in my online spiritual formation course, we are talking about the importance of community, and comparing it to the element of water (nurturing, collective, cohesive, running to the lowest places). Here is what I wrote for my assignment. I often wake up thirsty. There is nothing like the first drink of the day (I am talking orange juice, of course). I love all kinds of drinks: water, chai tea, fizzy diet Dr. pepper, a cold cider, orange juice, wheat beer, green tea, and the occasional cappuccino (all of which have a large element of water in them). Communal life is also something that I thirst for, in the many shapes and forms that it takes. Two words from Gregg Finley’s talk on things Celtic [1] stood out to me: availability and vulnerability. They apply both to drinking orange juice and to the intentional and interactive elements of being in community. Availability: do I lie in bed and think about how thirsty I am or do I get up, stumble down the stairs to the kitchen, and ...

I used to be an actress. Well, I can still act my way out of a paper bag, but I haven't been doing any drama lately, other than vying for the title of "drama queen" in my own household. Jazz gives me a run for it on most days. While doing my MA in Theological Studies, the talk of doing a Ph.D. sometimes comes up. Due to the nature of the program at my university, something interdisciplinary would be a very good way to go. If I were going to pursue further studies (nice to dream about it sans all the frustration and hard work), I think I would like to combine drama and theology. I checked it out online last night and what is out there is pretty sad. Most Christian drama is one-dimensional, blunt like a hammer, and not that interesting or relevant or well-written. There is always a badly-hidden agenda, too. Sigh. Then I found this talk by an acting coach, and my hope was renewed again. Acting, for me, has never been about being a not-so-sneaky tool to present the 4 spiritua...

I am currently reading The Tangible Kingdom by Hugh Halter and Matt Smay. It puts into words so many things I have been thinking about in the past year or two. That church is so much more than a weekly meeting or two. That the lack of enthusiasm people have for church and religion has very little to do with the life-changing adventure of following Jesus. That every aspect of life can be relational (connecting with God and with others) if I look for it. That Church was never meant to "happen" behind closed doors. That helping others (not just watching out for my own interests) is much easier and natural than I thought, yet much more challenging than is comfortable. This summer, I have been trying to get better at connecting with people outside of my immediate circle of friends (read "comfort zone"). Once a week or so, I make a point of calling someone up that I would not normally hang out with and inviting them to go for a drink. They might be people I have not seen...

I am doing an online course in spiritual formation. We studied inspiration last week: what breathes life into us? The following is based on an assignment I wrote on that topic. I love standing outside and watching planes fly overhead (did that 5 minutes ago – YES!!); It makes me think of adventure and being an explorer. I love walking, running, jumping, and skipping. I love breathing, stretching, and the feel of clean water on my body. I especially love mountains and oceans; they make my heart burst with their immensity and raw, unstoppable beauty. I love being small next to them. I love watching little bugs. Their wee, tiny legs move so fast and they cover so much ground. I love touching soft fur and rough elephant skin. I love drinking chai tea and sitting close to Dean. Comfort. I love moments of silence when I am just a part of the universe without trying to impress anyone. I love time and the splashes of flavour that squirt from it as it passes. I love being able to hear and see ...

Within the last 2 days, I have been reading The Tangible Kingdom by Hugh Halter and Matt Smay , the book of Luke, and The Life of Evelyn Underhill by Margaret Cropper. The one thing that stuck out to me in all three of these books was how counter cultural Jesus was. For the most part, our tendency is to want to be in the majority, to have our Christian values pervade society. We like Christian universities, Christian politicians, Christian musicians and actors, and Christian mentions in the media. We like it when our values and beliefs are respected and we are able to exert influence on what happens around us. We don't want immorality and excessive violence on TV. We don't want other religions or atheism invading society and influencing our laws. We want the freedom to do what we do and to have society applaud and imitate us. What we sometimes forget is that Jesus was counter cultural. He was in the minority. Politically, he was seen as a dangerous revolutionary. Religiously,...

Cat mugs, cat towels, cat notepaper, cat pajamas, cat books. Though I don't openly display all of these items in my home, I do own them. However, for the most part, I did not acquire these kitty goodies for myself. They were all gifts from people who like me and know that I like cats. I guess some of them might secretly be cat lovers, too. And I appreciate the kindness that is behind all these gifts, but there is one major difference between most of the people who buy me these cat items and me: I have the real thing. And living with the real thing day in and day out is quite a different story from the, "Awwwww, how cute" response that a cat t-shirt or a kitten key chain evokes. This week in my readings on mysticism, one author suggested that the more intimate the mystics became with God, the less they relied on symbols, liturgies, and rituals. Very interesting. As their relationship with God deepened, they didn't need a trigger to remind them that God was pres...

I am in month 2 of a reading course which will take about six months to complete. It will form the basic building blocks of the research for my MA thesis, which I hope to complete next summer. I have chosen a topic that is dear to my heart and that I believe I will enjoy learning about for a year, but some days, like today, I don't really feel like picking up a book on mysticism and taking notes. Today is one of those "just show up" days. And that is worth more than we give it credit for in our present day and age. In fact, it is a rare thing in many ways. I was in a class a few semesters ago where about half the class did not show up on a regular basis. I don't know how they expected to do well, or maybe they didn't. One of the strong images from my childhood is the presence of my mother when I came home from school every day. For the most part, she didn't do anything special or amazing, but she was there every day, and that counted for a lot. I have bee...

I sang at our weekly gathering of Church on Sunday night. Well, I sing every Sunday, but this time it was in front of a microphone. It had been a few weeks, so it was great to set up the keyboard, let my fingers flutter over the notes, and lift my voice to join with Dean's to tell of the wonders of an astounding God. The first song that we rehearsed in the sound check, one that I happened to sing the lead in, starts out very low and ends up really high, just on the edge of my range. I should have known better than to begin with that, especially without a warm-up. I squeaked, cracked, and strained my way through it and by the end, was feeling pretty sorry for anyone who had heard the sound check. I hoped I would do better when the time came to sing in front of everyone, but I wasn't too hopeful. We ran through the rest of the songs, and then I headed off to the bathroom. My throat felt a bit raw and I berated myself gently for not singing and practicing more consistently ...

It was a warm and sunny day yesterday, so Dean and I walked to the grocery store and bought a few items. It gave me the greatest delight, for some reason, to tend to the small details of life like selecting a piece of fruit and buying toilet paper on sale, and to do it with a very agreeable companion. On Saturday I awoke with intense gratitude that I had arms and legs, air to breathe, eyes to see, and ears that could hear. What a wonder to be able to experience the world by moving through it, self-propelled. And what a plethora of vibrant and variegated sensory amazements awaits me everyday. I am a simple person at heart. I do not need much to be happy. I rarely go shopping for clothes (gifts and clothing exchanges account for much in my closet) and could eat the same diet of cereals, fruits, salad, and tea every day. I regularly give things away to avoid the feeling of claustrophobia that comes upon me when I see a stuffed closet or a crowded room. I believe I might have made...

It has been a pretty hum-drum past few weeks or even months. Nothing really exciting has been happening in my life, and I haven't been really happy nor really sad. Just somewhere short of a shrug. Which, if you know the dramatic flair with which I tend to jump and tumble through life, is a bit abnormal for me. I usually get REALLY animated about even the smallest things like a penny on the sidewalk or the idea of drinking a cappuccino. Maybe I am tired. Maybe my summer reading course is draining the emotional life out of me. We all have these seasons of numbness, even us drama queens. Why should I expect anything different, even in my interaction with God? I know that Jesus will not come out of the heavens every day to do an interpretive reading of the Bible for me, nor is it realistic of me to expect chills every time I pray for someone. I was on the subway last night and as is my custom, cracked open a book. This particular evening I read about a guy who was finding himself respo...

I am learning how to skim read. I love it and I hate it. I like the speed at which I can get through information, but I hate not being able to savour each page. There is no time to stop and oooh and aaah over thoughts and ideas that tickle my imagination and curiosity. If they have nothing to do with my thesis topic (as undefined as it is), I must move on...quickly. Sigh. It's like only being able to sample one ingredient from a recipe. Or perhaps like looking through a whole book of recipes and notating each time baking powder is used and in what context. Does that really give me a good grasp of the fluffiness of this magic powder, dormant until it is mixed with other ingredients and exposed to intense heat? A list of ingredients by itself is not that mouthwatering: cornmeal, iron, niacin, thiamine, riboflavin, folic acid, vegetable oil, whey, cheddar cheese, hydrogenated vegetable oil, corn maltodextrin , sour cream, artificial flavour, monosodium glutamate, lactic acid, colo...

I am not a morning person. This simply means that, as a general rule, I do not usually function at peak capacity during the first few hours after I wake up. On the contrary, some of my most productive and creative times are between 10 pm and 2 am. And being a student with a fairly flexible schedule, I have been known to keep those kinds of hours. This makes for some interesting scenarios when interacting with the rest of the mostly 9-5 world. Yes, people have called me at 10:30 am and woken me up. When I hear that familiar ringing and it rudely snatches me out of my unconscious state, demanding immediate attention, I leap out of bed. I say some practice 'hellos' just to get the kinks out of the vocal chords and try to sound sane and coherent when I press the talk button on the phone. It doesn't work all that well. People can just tell if you've been sleeping. I used to get embarrassed about it, but then I realised that if I called them back at 1:30 am when I was wide aw...

Sometimes I forget that God is bigger than anything else. My mistakes. My accomplishments. My future. My words. My past. My lack of skills. My relationships. The actions of others. World events. He is just bigger than it all. When I tend to focus on the minor stuff of life, I need something to help me jettison the small-mindedness and see once again that this ginormous God I belong to is leaps and bounds beyond everything. One of those helpful somethings is truth. Truth is not a set of facts. Jesus said that he was the truth, so if I know what Jesus looks like, I know what truth looks like. But if I don't know what truth looks like, I can easily get confused, overwhelmed, deceived, or discouraged. Truth is consistent and alive, but not totally predictable (which is why I need to keep searching Him out and getting to know him better). And truth is bigger than my thoughts, my ideas, my understanding, my perceptions, facts, arguments, feelings, accusations, you name it. Truth cuts th...