Where Are You From?

I’m in the midst of a powerful writing project. A question ripples in me, and I pose it to you.

Where are you from?
Who are the people, places and experiences  that shape and form the amazing critter of you?

My son, Justin, answered this question in a high school writing class. The morning after he died, oh so unexpectedly, the school principal called me, asking if she could come to my house. She brought me his words–a poignant, life-giving gift. I am grateful. And, in this month of November, I am thankful.
Where are you from? Who will appreciate your response?

Where I Am From

by Justin Bernecker, 11/1/05

I am from the sweaty track jerseys
and smelly track shoes.
Tired muscles and over worked bodies,
Hard breathing that only comes from
hard work.

I am from the sweet smelling mountain
peaks of Colorado,
the dusty windswept deserts in Arizona
to the salty shores of Alaska.

I am from the neatly cut grass in
my backyard to the hammock
hanging between two trees.
The lonely rake that stands alone
against the wall, forgotten by
those who used it last.

I am from the cold lakes that gradually
warm in the summer,
to the boats that gently rock in the
gentle breeze blowing from the south.
To the fish that play in the shadows
of the trees, and the crawfish
that make their homes under the rocks.

I am from the fruit trees spilling over
with ripe fruit calling out to
be picked by young hands
to the boys sitting, laughing on the fence
posts, watching the cotton candy clouds
float by in that endless blue sky.

I am from the wheat fields that
gently sway in the summer wind
the sweat that comes in from cutting
wood all day under a blazing sun.

I am from the “Go on, do something outside”
type of family that raised me so well.

I am from the deer spaghetti, overflowing
With rich red sauce, to the traditional wild
turkey that we eat on thanksgiving.
The wild salmon that we catch off of the
river and smoke up at the lodge for the
guests to enjoy for their dinner.

This is who I am.

Justin Bernecker. Kachemak Bay, Alaska, 2005.

Living with expectancy, expectation, or a bit of both?

I finally finished reading The Shack, a novel by William Paul Young. In the last hundred pages I discovered interesting character dialogue. One passage in particular captures my attention. Focusing on expectancy and expectation, the subtle distinction between these words accompanies me like two marbles rolling in my pocket.

The passage instigating my pondering about expectancy and expectation takes place when Sarayu (the personification of the Spirit of God) explains to Mack (a seeker and primary character in The Shack) the following:

“I am a verb … I am alive, dynamic, ever active, and moving. … And my very essence is a verb.” Sarayu explains further: “To move from something that is only a noun to something dynamic and unpredictable, to something living and present tense, is to move from law to grace.”

Mack, struggling to understand, is given this example:

“Mack, if you and I are friends, there is an expectancy that exists within our relationship. When we see each other or are apart, there is an expectancy of being together, of laughing and talking. That expectancy has no concrete definition; it is alive and dynamic, and everything that emerges from our being together is a unique gift shared by no one else. But what happens if I change that ‘expectancy’ to an ‘expectation’–spoken or unspoken? Suddenly law has entered our relationship. You are now expected to perform in a way that meets my expectations. Our living friendship rapidly deteriorates into a dead thing with rules and requirements. It is no longer about you and me, but about what friends are supposed to do, or the responsibilities of a good friend.”

Now beginning to understand, Mack adds: “Or … the responsibilities of a husband, or a father, or employee, or whatever. I get the picture. I would much rather live in expectancy.”

This passage provoked my inquiry: “Do I live with expectancy or expectation?” Aware of the subtle and valuable differences between these two words, I suspect there is relevance for my various interpersonal relationships, work life, love life, play, volunteer time, and yes, even my prayer. I notice I do live with the expansive quality of expectancy in many areas of my life. But, expectation of myself or others often unintentionally results in me becoming too critical, or even confining and limiting. I know this leads toward judgment and missing the opportunity of the present moment to be, as I like to think of it, personally, passionately present.

Will you join me and take a few minutes to ponder ‘expectation’ and ‘expectancy’ within your life context? What is expansive or limiting within each? Can inner peace and calm grow within expectation? Does the idea of expectancy allow unimagined possibility to emerge?

What percolates in you?

Live with expectancy or expectation?

Posted by PeggeBernecker at 8/3/2009 1:00 PM CDT

http://www.chron.com/channel/houstonbelief/commons/searching.html