I Don't Really Care for this Surrender Thing

I've decided I don't really care for this surrender thing; I much prefer control. Surrender is such a process of letting go again and again. Ugh. I suck at it.

Last Sunday we incorporated a body prayer (compliments of my talented friend, Stacy) into the service at Common Table. Here’s an excerpt of the posture we were directed to assume as we prayed:

Stand up. Strong legs. Your feet grounded by the strength of the earth below. Your back and neck and head stretched toward the heavens. Look at your hands. Hold them up in front of your face—palms up. Open. Open to God and God’s nature. Open to whatever you are to receive. Open to give away that which you shall no longer hold on to.

As I assumed this posture, I was really struck by the seeming dichotomy of my actions – holding my hands open to receive from God, while also being open to give away that which I shouldn’t hold on to. Both elements resonate. I think much of life, or at least much of the Christian life, is lived within this tension.

"You're a little too saucy to be a nun."

Yesterday I spent the afternoon at the Africa Faith and Justice Network (AFJN), putting the finishing touches on a project. AFJN is located in Brookland, a section of DC filled with Catholic institutions. On my way home, I noticed a little farmer's market near the Metro and decided to stop and buy some produce.

It didn't take long before I was in a conversation with a slightly eccentric guy from Licking Creek Bend Farm. After his mini soapbox speeches on fair trade coffee (i.e."Why can't Starbucks feature their fair trade coffee more than once a month?") and school lunches (i.e. "Why is eat we feed our children the worst food possible - especially in schools?") he asked what I did. I conveniently avoided the fact that I work at Starbucks part-time and told him I had just completed my degree in Family Studies and that I'm planning to go to Africa, to which he responded with the common sentiment, "There are so many problems here in the U.S...." I agreed and tried to smooth things over with some statement to the effect of, "Well, I guess we're all called to different things..." I suppose using the word "call" was a bit of Christianese, because he immediately tapped into this and asked, "Are you a nun?" (Yeah, me - in my wrap around India skirt and black tank top with visible tat - a nun? Not so much.) I responded a bit too quickly, "God, no! I think I like [the idea of] marriage (i.e. sex) a little too much to be a nun!" (Probably not the most tactful response because I really do have a great deal of respect for sisters, but that's what popped out of my mouth.) He quickly realized his mistake and before I could finish my sentence declared, "Yeah, you're a little too saucy to be [a nun]."