New Life for a Frozen Brain

Grace to you, dear ones ~

I have spent much of the last couple of years adjusting to a new life here in Portland, Oregon.  Although it was my childhood town, I had been away for over seven years pursuing the last part of my BA and then my MA at seminary in Seattle.  The majority of my time back home was devoted to caring for my dear father as he prepared to pass from life to Life.  That transition happened this summer, the day before my birthday.  We have just passed three months since he died.

In the time since his passing, I often felt much like the walking dead.  No purpose.  No dream.  No hope for the future.  All was simply numb.  These effects of shock - which is our normal human response to the trauma of death - has only in recent weeks begun to dissipate.  My brain and emotions, it seemed, were in a cryogenic state - frozen in time at my Daddy's death bed.  Both have begun to thaw.  The time of healing has now begun.

For those of you who may be experiencing the loss of a loved one, or the deep shadows of grief as you care for an ailing parent or sibling, I write to offer you companionship.  New life, I am convinced, can be found when we tend one another's hearts.  I am here to walk beside you, accepting you with your permafrost brain, erratic emotional swings and physical aches that are a manifestation of your grief.  We will get through this together.  We will learn to live again.

"I have come that you might have life and have it to the fullest measure." -- Jesus says.

We have a promise from the Living Christ that new life is coming.  I am convinced that this is a deep, cosmological truth.  All life, from the smallest fruit fly to the greatest mammoth and basilosaurus, and everything in between, will all find newness and resurrection in the time to come.  For now, I am thankful to be receiving a small preview of this new life with the slow, gentle resurrection in my frozen grief brain.

I will do my best to write here once a week, both to walk with you and to record my own journey of resurrection.

Photo by Trista Wynne - Zombie 5K -- Dayton, OR -- October 2013 

Feeling Dry?

Grace and peace to you, dear ones!

At several points this year, while clambering to and from various gatherings and trying to push myself through the final quarters in my seminary career, I have found myself feeling a little dry, (I wrote a little earlier in the summer about this very thing) and wondering where our Beloved was.  I felt as though I was in the midst of a terrible storm of thunder and lightning but was lacking the refreshing, cooling downpour of grace upon my thirsty soul.  As one born and raised in the pacific-northwest where rains are quite abundant, this is saying something!

On account of my geographical location, I don't often identify with the imagery of desert sands and arid places; the landscape surrounding me is usually quite lush and green.  However, during certain points in my life, and particularly poignantly in the last few months of seminary, I have had very strong sensations of being unceasingly thirsty, dry and in a time of waiting for our Beloved to come and take some powerful action.  In these times, this vision of Ezekiel is particularly profound:

"Feeling Dry" - Photo by Trista Wynne

The Gift of Empathy: Tending the Zombie Vine

It's been a little while since I've posted, dear ones.  I've been working through some health issues and dietary changes trying to get my digestion to settle down.  But today I'm back, writing about an experience within the slight chaos that has been my life in the last month or so.

"Devouring the Vine"

As a zombie theologian, I've often struggled with this beautiful and frustrating thing called a body.  Sometimes there is passion and joy in every fiber of my being.  I feel connected to the earth, connected to my fellow human beings and the whole created order, and intimately connected to our Beloved, the Creator of all.  The zombie within has entered a time of remembering who she was created to be.  At other times, however, I loose my footing, I can't comprehend relationships and I completely loose sight of the Beautiful One we know as God.

In the times of forgetfulness and confusion, my body goes out of alignment, my muscles ache, my digestion is not as it should be, and it is difficult to maintain relationships with nearly anyone.  I forget who I am in relation to creation.  My communication gets all garbled.  And generally I begin to focus in on my ailments and the undiagnosed diseases I am certain are lurking somewhere within my system.  In short, when I am disconnected, I am withering, inside and out.  In such times, the zombie within becomes fully and completely visible to all who care to spend more than a few moments in my presence.

Zombie Brains Contemplate Relationship

I can't believe it's been so long since I've posted here!  My goal was to be on top of posting at least once a week, but it turns out this was only the case during the summer, and it is an unrealistic expectation during seminary study time.  So, perhaps once a month will be my new goal.

Since posting last, we've meandered through the season of advent, celebrated Christmas, closed out a new year and begun a new one.  I've also begun a new term and come to the realization that my time in seminary is drawing close to a wrapping up point.  Only four classes and a part-time practicum stand between me today and the zombie wearing a grad cap and gown with velvet stripes.  I'll be a Master of Theology & Ministry then.  How's that for brains?

Mmmm, braaaaiiiiinnnssss!

Ahem.

Sorry about the drool.

Re-telling the Wheat & Weeds Suburban Zombie Style

Photo by Trista Wynne

On Sunday we looked at the overarching theme of good and evil in a variety of terms.  In the zombie world, we decided that life and death (or more specifically, living-dead) are the terms we're most likely to use.  Speaking of the living-dead is a poignant way of looking at our in-between (and neither) existence. 

In Jesus' day, agricultural existence, and therefore, language, was the norm.  Sunday's gospel lesson came from Matthew 13 where Jesus tells a parable about the Kingdom of God using imagery of wheat and weeds.   I suspect that if He was speaking for today's suburban areas, He might have told a parable based in science or art.  Today, I'd like to relay the parable of the wheat and the weeds in suburban-zombie-friendly language.  Since Jesus was fairly flexible in telling Kingdom parables with either male or female characters (see the parable of the lost coin and that of the lost son in Luke 15, for examples) I'll have a female character represent God here.

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Working on the Art

This tattoo design that I found on deviant art is similar to a symbol I'm developing for this site and my book.  It incorporates both the biohazard sign and a symbol that can reference the Holy Trinity. 

Check out this awesome art!