Cycles | Turn Turn Turn

I love the fall! As the summer sun is now setting earlier and the warm mornings are replaced by the brisk cool air, I am moved to thank the Lord for the shifting cycles of the seasons. The fall season for our family is full of birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, and an abundance of meaningful family time together. For me, fall is also a time of retrospection. Sometimes, that reflection is bittersweet as I consider all that has shifted and changed over the years; the highs and lows and the wins and losses. Life itself is a continual cycle.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 references these cycles and sets the tone of expectation. Life has cycles and seasons; times that we will experience, enjoy, and in some cases, endure. Life is intricately woven with cycles of change as its center strand. I’m sure that all of you relate and perhaps some of you, like me, reluctantly surrender to that truth. The only thing consistent about change is that it’s inevitable.

In the midst of uncertainty (my pet word for life itself), I find it imperative to have a fortress, a terra firma, a solid ground to stand upon, when the inevitable occurs. In these seasons, I turn to the truth of Lamentations 3:22-24, written by Jeremiah. The previous verses lay out the context of Jeremiah’s “uncertainty.” He was a personal witness to the atrocities of war, of sin, of judgment; as his own nation turned from God to false prophets. He witnessed the darkness of tragedy (Jeremiah 3:2). He experienced the captivity and heaviness of grief (Jeremiah 3:7). He felt the bitterness of the hardship of his people being taken captive by their enemies (Jeremiah 3:15). Jeremiah was branded by uncertainty. It seared him, scarred him, deeply disturbed him. But in the midst of this intimate confession of how the uncertainty of life has marked him, he dares to hope.

Lamentations 3:21-23 (NLT)
Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this: The faithful love of the LORD never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning.

May this be our hope as well. As the seasons and cycles of life turn, turn, turn, may we find God’s faithfulness, his unchanging love, his fresh mercies, to be our stalwart; our faithful companion. And may we trust him, like David in Psalm 23, to lead us through life’s hills and valleys to places of anointing and rejoicing. No matter which cycle life is throwing at you today, dare to hope in God’s fresh, unfailing love and faithfulness for you. He will lead you faithfully through it to the other side!

---

About the Author

Mike enjoys spending time with his wife and four kids. He loves Jesus, art, music, and poetry. He currently works as the Manager of Learning Technology Solutions for Los Angeles Pacific University and is passionate about adventuring outdoors.

Cycles | Friendships

Some friends are for a season, some for a reason, and others for a lifetime.

I’m not sure where I picked this up. I want to say a teacher along the line. It’s seemed to hold water throughout my experience of friendships, and it undoubtedly stuck in my head. The concept was helpful for reconciling my disconnection with friends who have been particularly close in other “seasons” that seem so distant today.

My natural instinct has been to say between reason, season, and lifetime, that lifetime must be the ideal, right? With a dear friend, who would want that season to end? But seasons in my life like high school or college, you know, the “good ol’ days,” were special. And that team at work who tackled that serious challenge or the small group who truly cared for each other in a sweet Christ-like way. Those friend groups have been paramount in my life. I am who I am today because of those different seasons. Although I hardly see those friends anymore, we do have the joy of picking up right where we left off when we do get to catch up.

What about reasons? When you look back over the friendships that have shaped your life, do you also have those people who, for better or worse, taught you something? From the mentor who imparted wisdom and the coach who imparted courage, to the neighbor who taught you sharing or the difficult person who taught you long-suffering, we’ve had people in and out of our lives that seem to encapsulate a particular lesson.

Finally, there are those relationships that last a lifetime. The soul-connected friendship of a close friend like that described in John 15:13. The committed covenant relationship vowed in marriage. The unwavering love of a parent that doesn’t wane, no matter the age of their kids.

However, while relationships can add meaning to our lives, they can also be a source of heartache.

Perhaps one thing that can be so painful is the end of some relationships— especially when they don’t match the intended purpose. In particular, the relationships that are fundamentally intended to be life-long. The early death of a partner or parent. Divorce. Siblings cutting off from family. For those assumed longterm relationships, when incongruent or cut short, the pain is substantially deeper. Albeit from either conflict, brokenness or disaster.

This brings me to Jesus. Jesus’s abiding spirit is not seasonal. And while we have lessons we learn; His love, commitment and connection is forever. The book of Matthew ends with Jesus’s final words before ascending, “And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Mt 28:20)

Any other relationship will have an end. Jesus’s commitment to us is that he’ll never leave. That he’ll never give up on us. That nothing can ever separate us from His love. And this is good news.

---

About the Author

Mike is currently serving as CitySalt's Transition Pastor during this unique season of our church. Mike is married to Britni D'Eliso and together they have two awesome elementary school-aged children. He loves working in his garden and connecting with people over coffee. One of his greatest joys in pastoring is helping others discover the fullness that God has for them through His Scriptures and His Spirit.

Cycles | Deciding What to Do with the Time That is Given to Us

As we’ve lived through the past 18 months of this pandemic, my emotions have cycled through disbelief, panic, despair, anger, and gratitude for the blessings that I do have. This summer, I began to approach a more steady emotional baseline, but that has changed recently as the Delta variant has surged through our community and overwhelmed our health care system. In recent weeks, I’ve found myself more stuck in negative emotions and struggling to feel hopeful.

One morning I was half-heartedly praying for God’s help through this mess, and I felt nudged to consider shifting my focus away from myself. Despair about the pandemic had led me to negative self-talk about my life in general. So, I felt God reminding me that this pandemic is not only a difficult time for me, and that I should shift my focus on finding ways to be an encouragement to others.

With that in mind, I called my friend whose preschool daughter recently tested positive for covid to check in with her and offer my prayers. I spent time helping my son clean his disaster-zone bedroom. I baked zucchini bread for my family and took my dog for a walk.

The times we’re living through are challenging and it’s easy to become discouraged. We may wish that others would make different choices. We may wish we ourselves had made different choices in the past. None of those things are within our control. I’ve been reminding myself that I can only control my own choices, today.

Last winter, I read the Lord of the Rings trilogy aloud to my daughter. Traveling a dangerous path to Mt. Doom felt like a good parallel for life in the pandemic. One scene has stood out to me in particular. Frodo says to Gandalf, “I wish the ring had never come to me. I wish it need not have happened in my time.”

And Gandalf replied, “So do I. And so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to do is decide what to do with the time that is given to us.”

How then, should we respond to the time that is given to us? Should we give in to anger and vitriol over personal freedoms vs. safety? Should we give in to despair and stop even trying? Or should we try to keep moving forward and attempt to live from a place of kindness, respect, and hope?

I hope I will always choose to keep moving forward, even when we’re unsure of the path in front of us, just like Frodo and his friends did in Lord of the Rings.

I’ve read that the pandemic in the U.S. may start fading away in October, as the Delta surge recedes. I’ve also read that the pandemic may not end for several more years. Which is closer to the truth? We don’t know.

It’s so hard to live within this uncertainty. I wonder, how do we keep moving forward when the ground beneath our feet keeps shifting? I’ve run out of answers, yet it seems there must be a way.

We need to be honest and acknowledge the tragedies of the last eighteen months and the challenges we continue to face locally and globally. Let’s give ourselves a break and recognize that many of us may not be able to function at our best right now. Our feelings of grief, anger, denial, and resilience will come in cycles. At the same time, we can draw inspiration from literature, scripture, and history and recognize that humanity is no stranger to dark times. Our ancestors have lived through world wars, natural disasters, smallpox outbreaks, and the bubonic plague. God put us in this time and place for a reason, and will not abandon us now.

Isaiah 43:1-2
“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters I will be with you, and when you pass through the rivers they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the Lord your God.”

---

About the Author

Ursula and her husband Spencer have two young children, and their family enjoys playing hide-and-seek and dancing in the living room. She works as a communications and events coordinator with the University of Oregon.

You can read more from Ursula at motherbearblog.com.

Cycles | Kintsugi

Have you ever experienced a season of goodness long enough that you started taking it for granted? Or that you started to believe that maybe if you kept living an exemplary life, it never would have to be interrupted?

I used to think life was supposed to be something always within my comfort zone, something kind of easy peasy, with just a bit of challenge thrown in to be interesting. If life happened to throw me a major curve ball, it was certainly from the devil.

Whether it is the devil on the other end of the imperfections, disruptions or catastrophes of our lives, I can’t say for sure, but one thing I do know is that life is full of good and bad, easy and difficult, joy and sorrow - and no one is exempt. Sometimes our own choices lead us down the wrong path and we end up injured, addicted or broken in some way.

Have you ever gotten trapped in an unhealthy habit which you felt powerless to escape from? I have. And I know many people who have as well. In those entanglements, people often have to “hit bottom” before they will finally reach out to find the help and resources they need to get free. And often when we think we (or someone we know) has hit bottom, we haven’t quite yet, and have to fall even deeper before we hit it. This is such a hard thing to experience for ourselves or watch happen to someone we love. It is really like a series of small deaths: a death of dreams and expectations, a death of our belief in rational solutions and spiritual platitudes, a death in believing that we are better than this.

I now no longer expect life to always be easy and happy, though thankfully sometimes it is. I know we will all experience “small deaths” while we are living on this earth. But I’ve seen enough of these that I’ve learned a very important truth: God’s grace is always deeper than we could ever fall. Hitting bottom is really falling into His hands, though it might not feel like that at the time. As we let God help us recover, we also can notice an amazing consequence: He fills in the broken areas of our lives with His “Gold Glue”.

In Colossians 1:17 it is written,
Jesus is before all things and in Him all things hold together.

He holds all things together and certainly that includes us and all our broken pieces! An ancient Japanese technique illustrates this well for us. It is called kintsugi and it is a practice used to restore broken pottery. Kintsugi is founded on the principle that just because something is broken does not mean it should be thrown away. Rather, it should be honored for its life and beauty by restoring it to wholeness through applying a glue filled with gold flakes. The effect is stunning. Though one will always be able to see where the piece of pottery was once broken, it now serves the purpose it was intended for with streaks of gold that “hold all things together” and now shines with an interesting and exceptional beauty.

Jesus is before all things and after all things, the Alpha and Omega. He holds all things together during our life here on earth, during our transition to the after-life, and in the heavenlies as well! There is nowhere that His grace is not present.

Isaiah states it so beautifully in Chapter 61:
God has sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners…..and to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.

To God, absolutely no one is a “throw away.” Not only does God restore, repair and honor His broken people, sometimes He even allows us to participate with Him in this work by helping others we know who are experiencing brokenness of some kind. This all sounds like pure gold to me!!

---

About the Author

John lives in Pleasant Hill with his dog, Gunnar, and a multitude of guests who enjoy the peace and beauty of the Cascade foothills. With three children and three grandchildren all living in Oregon, he is continually blessed with their company and the good food that always accompanies their get-togethers!

Cycles | Fire Season

The Earth orbits the Sun and the seasons change. The cycles of the world come and go, as do cycles of loss, grief and recovery.

The summer season is again upon us and with its hot, dry weather and the possibility of wildfires. Last year’s fire season was one of the worst in a long time in the McKenzie Valley, destroying many homes and businesses. I remember those days very clearly, even though our home wasn’t in danger, some of my coworkers did have homes in areas of evacuation that crept closer and closer as the days went on. Finally, two of my coworkers had to stop work and get ready to move as their area was elevated to “Be Ready” status, meaning they could be told to leave their homes and belongings at any moment. We wished them well and prayed that they would be okay.

I later learned that one of the casualties of the fire was a resort in Blue River where I had spent many writing retreats over the years. In fact, most of the town of Blue River had burned, leaving burnt out cars and charred chimneys standing alone.

In the midst of this year of destruction, I received a phone call. My son had died. Alex was not my biological son, but I dated his mother for several years and he had started calling me dad and so I called him son and, so in my heart he was my son. And now he is gone. We had not spoken to each other for a long time as we had drifted apart, but now there was no hope of reconciliation on this side of Heaven. I pray that I will meet him there someday and we will have our chance to make broken things right.

As the fires burned through our forests, they also burned through my life, my heart and my mind. I, too, am left with charred remains inside my soul, some with lonely, solitary chimneys left standing to remind me of the structures that once stood there.

When the Holiday Farm Fire was finally contained and the area deemed safe, my wife and I went up the McKenzie both to escape our confines during lockdown and to see the remains of the resort. Some of the buildings were gone, but others still stood in the capricious way that good things can also happen in this world. People were working to tear down the wreckage and build anew. Many trees still stood and were still green, and the river still flowed nearby. These were signs that all was not lost and of hope for the future.

Now that the fires of that season have ended, I, too, feel hope and love building in my heart. I feel the support of my wife and family and friends and the love of the Lord to repair that which was lost to me and I hope resides in a better world to come. Wildfires can be healing as well as destructive as they clear out the dead undergrowth and give the trees room to grow and be healthier.

I pray that the fires that have burned through my soul will also be able to help me heal and grow in spite of the pain and destruction that it feels like this past year has wrought. I pray that you also can feel the healing and growth for yourselves in the coming new season.

Psalm 107:1
Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever. 2 Let the redeemed of the LORD tell their story— those he redeemed from the hand of the foe,3 those he gathered from the lands, from east and west, from north and south. 4 Some wandered in desert wastelands, finding no way to a city where they could settle. 5 They were hungry and thirsty, and their lives ebbed away. 6 Then they cried out to the LORD in their trouble, and he delivered them from their distress.

---

About the Author

Mark lives in Oregon with his lovely wife, Darla and enjoys reading, writing, playing games and working to make the world a better place. He currently serves CitySalt church as a sound engineer and on the church council.

Cycles | Fireweed: Beauty From Ashes

Fireweed and Mt. Jefferson (photo by Jessie Johnson)

When I hear the word “cycle,” middle school science class comes to mind, with the life-cycle of an organism. Whether plant or animal, the cycle always includes death. So really, we should call it a “life and death cycle.” But that’s too depressing. Or too wordy. Or both.

Anyway, we all know that death is a part of life. But that’s really hard to accept sometimes. Death is the end of something. That thing is no longer alive, and that is sad. Really, really sad sometimes, especially when it’s a loved one. I haven’t yet lost anyone to death that was really close to me, but I’ve been told you never really stop grieving completely. In a lesser but still meaningful way, the death could be of a place or an item or a job that we cherished, lost to natural disaster or the economy, or death of a dream we’ve had to give up or grieve.

I’m currently grieving that last one, and I’ve done it before. It is very difficult in this stage to see the next one, the new-growth stage that comes after the death of something. But I am reminded of the beautiful passage in Isaiah chapter 61, verses 1-3. It says in the NIV translation:

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives, and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion—to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.

I don’t know about you, but between my personal current grief and the state of the world, I am very tempted to despair. But I hold onto the promises in this passage, and I believe that God has given us signs of this in nature.

Last summer, I went hiking with a friend to Jefferson Park, a gorgeous meadow on the flanks of Mt. Jefferson. The trail had just reopened after a few years of being closed due to a previous wildfire. We hiked through woods that seemed to contain nothing more than the ghostly remains of trees. We could see the devastation all around us. But soon we saw things that we wouldn’t have seen if we’d hiked there before the fire. Open views of the majestic Mt. Jefferson were available to us between the burned trees, where previously the evergreens would have blocked the views. And in several patches, this giant, bright pink flower grew on the forest floor. Later I asked a friend who used to work for the forest service about it--she said it’s called Fireweed.

Then I understood. This flower is the plant world’s phoenix, rising from the ashes of the wildfire. And it was beautiful.

It seems like every time I go to a memorial service for someone I knew, I find out about someone else I know having a baby. The new birth does not cancel the grief from the death, no more than the pretty fireweed undoes the devastation of the forest. But both of these examples of the life-cycle give me hope. God doesn’t promise to keep us from experiencing death or loss. But in the passage above, He does promise to comfort us in our mourning and bring new joy.

Oregon is still mourning the losses of land and homes and even people from last year’s wildfires, including the beautiful Jefferson Park that I made it to just in time last summer. This year is looking to cause as much or more damage. I am not saying we should be happy for tragedy and grief because of a joy that is to come. But, we can rejoice in the hope that God will comfort us, and that he promises to raise something beautiful from the ashes in our lives.

For a couple of songs inspired by this passage that bring me much comfort, check out these links.

---

About the Author

Jessie is an educator, she currently teaches teens and has taught overseas. She is also a novice writer, with several books in various stages and a (long-neglected) blog about the journeys of women. She is very excited to be a part of the CitySalt blog team. She has been blessed by a few communities of Christian writers that have encouraged her dream. She lives with her trusty sidekick cat, Arwen in the foothills of South Eugene, where she can go hiking within minutes of the sun coming out from behind the clouds.

Cycles | Well Rounded

A cycle is a wonderful thing. Full of symbolism and personal meaning that can be so easily grasped. Just look around, circles are everywhere--in our manmade structures, our technologies and the organic world. We identify a wedding ring for commitment, gathering a circle of close friends. And in nature, the rain cycle drops much needed moisture, only to make the long journey back to its beginning through evaporation.

Right now, I'm interested in our cycles of faith.

We all tend to think linearly about life in general. We're born, we grow and we learn along the way. We encounter trauma and we stumble badly. Then with God's rich understanding, compassion and grace, we get back up and try again. But our lives have a shelf life, and the learning is typically hard work. There's only so much time and energy given to walk through all this stuff.

Then we reach our earthly end.

Of course as believers, we have great hope in an eternal outcome, but painting that earthly picture in such vivid detail can make the journey seem so arduous...like we're stuck on a personal/relational treadmill. Successes - yes, but so many failures too. And then there's change. Love it or leery of it, it's coming and it's constant. Our fear or denial of it doesn't change the change.

Hang on, really, I'm trying to help here.

Maybe instead of a great, straight, rigid line stretching from beginning to end, we should think, hope and practice in cycles. A circle endlessly repeats itself, but a cycle seems like a segment - a story, with so much variation and possibilities. Maybe it's like a great ocean wave - an OPEN circle. It has an origin, builds up momentum, spins in a circle, but then breaks on the beach. Yes it does repeat itself, but in a different and organic fashion next time and every time.

Also, I think our American and western culture views our lives mainly as a competitive human race, full of individualism and bravado. But instead of a 100 yard straight line sprint, shouldn't our faith be a graceful, curved path? (Yes, we all NEED more grace!) The curves allow us to get a more rounded view of ourselves and others, with inclusion in community - without needing to look back over our shoulders. And maybe more importantly, a slower pace around the edges provides some rest for our weary souls - time to exchange stress for that joy and all other good Spirit fruits so beautifully promised to us in the Word of God.

So let's relax, we've been here before, haven't we?

And this time we can break through! Is there a crash? Hit the reset button and begin again. And again. And again. Maybe we can view failure in a different light - without ANY guilt and shame! Maybe we can view cycles as a refresher course, that really is refreshing. Time spent walking and talking with God once again. He is more than just interested. He is fully invested in our success.

---

About the Author

Terry is a man in constant motion to explore new horizons. He has a thirst for new places and faces, and a deep love for the natural world - with a weakness for waterfalls and sunsets. All of this venturing out helps to both ground and inspire him, because it opens him up to people, with their vast, collective array of experiences, outlooks and responses.

He finds all of this fascinating and sees that it has encouraged the growth of something crucial in his Christian development: empathy and compassion toward his brothers and sisters on this planet.