Can a Zombie Fly?

It is an intriguing concept -- the idea that a zombie might be able to sprout wings and fly.  Perhaps it is an unrealistic hope or a pipe dream.  As I contemplate the last few months, however, this time that has now passed since my father died, I am beginning to wonder.

You see, dear ones, it feels as though I have been in a place of cocooning.  At the time, that is to say - in these past six months - I have often felt more like I had lost my way and was stuck, frozen even, in a dark space of anger, grief and despair.  Some degree of perspective has come now, and I anticipate more is on the way.

I am beginning to read again, to laugh a little more heartily, and to breathe a little deeper.  Getting through the first major holidays without my father being physically present, and walking the steep hill towards the interment of his ashes were important steps towards this shifting.  My eyes and mind both feel like they are gaining focus.  My physical body even feels like it is prepared for more mobility, stretching and moving forward.

I suspect that experiencing the darkness of grief and withdrawing from serving in public and private ministry for a time was necessary for my personal and professional growth.  It has been cocooning time.  Although I may not be fully prepared to exit the present darkness, the walls of the cocoon are becoming more transparent.  Perhaps this means my zombie self is shedding an old way of interacting with the world.

"The Old Self" - Photo by Trista Wynne

I am reminded of Paul's words in his first letter to the Corinthians: "When I was a child, I thought like a child, I spoke like a child, I reasoned like a child.  Now that I am an adult, I put childish ways behind me.  For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face.  Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I am fully known." (1 Cor. 13:11-12)

I cannot know yet how this experience has shaped me, or how it will continue to do so.  I only know that something rather significant has changed.  In time, I trust that more will be revealed.

Again I wonder: can a zombie fly?

Once more my heart is brought to the Scriptures, this time to an interaction between the Eternal One and the prophet of old named Elijah:

The hand of the Eternal One came upon me, bringing me out by the wind of the Spirit and set me down in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. I was led all around them; there were very many lying in the valley, and they were very dry. The Eternal One said to me, "Mortal, can these bones live?" I answered, "O Eternal One, only you know." (Ezek. 37:1-3)

 Can a zombie fly?  Only you, O Beloved, only you know...

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 

What's in our Eyes?

I've been writing more often in my prayer blog lately than on here, but today's awful events bring me back into the realm of violence, theology and questions.  I posted in the prayer blog about a shooting that happened in the nearby Clackamas Town Center earlier this week.  Now, only a few days later we hear about a terrible tragedy in Connecticut.

Images, sound clips and heart-breaking accounts of today's events leave us feeling numb and hopeless.  A steady stream of political posturing and religious rants have been flooding my Facebook news feed all day.  It is sad how quickly we can manipulate a tragedy into a tool for our own agendas.  We have violence towards one another in our eyes.

We have a hard time simply sighing as a nation and grieving together.  We are immediately looking for someone or something to blame.  (Yes, I include myself in this.  I said, "we".  Although I refrained from posting throughout the day, my mind went all over, too...)  We have destruction in our eyes.

Tonight, though, as the reactions begin to simmer down and the soul searching begins, I am reminded that perfect love casts out fear.

Sharing the Antidote

"A Zombie Healer"
@ZomBcon Seattle Oct '11
Photo by Matthew Wynne

"Do you want to be made well?"

Jesus' words to a paralytic sitting by the pool of Siloam echo in my mind as I contemplate the drastic shifting of a few relationships that has occurred in my life very recently.  As a theological zombie, on account of my relationship with Christ and the presence of the Holy Spirit in my life, I have access to the antidote of the zombie virus. 

Love of God and love of neighbor is the clear antidote.  It takes time to work, and our bodies, minds and spirits go through a series of trials and errors within us.  The virus attempts to make us reject, or to develop antibodies that attack the antidote in our system; but if we return to our Creator at regular intervals and accept the guidance of the Great Physician, we will defeat the virus.  We will remember what it means to be human.

If you've read my previous posts, you'll know that I fully admit that I am somewhere in the midst of battling the zombie virus, both inwardly and in society.  I am working with the Great Physician in attempt to help my body, mind and spirit not to reject the antidote.  I am not yet cured of the zombie virus.  I am in the process of being healed.

Bearing that in mind, I, like all Christ-followers, am called to bring the antidote to the infected.  You can see that I am sharing the Gospel, the Love of God and the Love of others and the Love of creation with you all here on this blog, dear ones.  I am trying to live a life that reflects this love so that our Lord might be glorified and that you might be encouraged along your own healing journey. 

Yes, I loose my way sometimes.  Yes, I stumble along the pathway of life.  Still, I am called to this work of healing and redemption.  So, dear ones, are you.

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.

What's so Good about this Friday?

In a Twitter post earlier this afternoon, I said "Our Lord experienced all we do, even death. We are never alone. God knows our pain. God has come to us. That is why we call this day good."  This is true, but it's not the whole of it.  As my eyes meandered down the posting list, I came across a post from the Next Starfish saying, "Eggs & Bunnies? - Easter and Forgiveness" with a link to their latest blog post.

I stand corrected.  And I must add an addendum to my post.

Jesus' experience of all the pain, suffering and humiliation first century humanity could throw at Him is not the only reason we call this day good.  As Next Starfish says in their blog post, it's "all about forgiveness".  Jesus did not only cry, "my God, my God why have You forsaken me" from the cross.  He also cried, "Father, forgive them for they have no idea what they're doing".

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.

Reanimation or Rejuvenation: Calling the Salt of the World

Hello, dear ones!

I have returned from my vacation, though the discernment continues.  Thank you much for your prayers!  Now on to today's post.
*****
One of the radio shows now turned podcast that my husband and I enjoy on a regular basis can certainly get a little strange.  The visual aids for one of their recent shows includes a couple of videos from YouTube of headless animals' cells being activated by salty solutions.  In the first video, a headless squid dances in the sushi bowl after soy sauce is poured over the legs.  Most of the squid is still in tact, but it is missing the head of the central nervous system.  In the second video, the lower half of a frog still moves and the muscles twitch when salt is sprinkled on it.  It was a fascinating (and rather disgusting) thing to observe.

When my husband suggested that I create a post about zombie animals, I didn't know what I would write about, but very quickly I thought about Jesus' observation that we are the salt of the world.  Is this what He meant?  Are we simply called to be sprinkled in order to keep the muscles of creation animated until He returns?  Is pouring  ourselves into a disconnected congregational reality the best use of our saltiness?

A New Way of Life

There is a difference between simple survival and transitioning into a new way of life.  One of the sad features of most zombie films is that the characters are often so focused on survival of the current time that they neglect to prepare for the future.  In The Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Protection from the Living Dead, Max Brooks reminds us to prepare not only for the immediate needs during the initial outbreak, but also the sanity and hope infusion that is necessary for health in the long haul.  Remember books, games photographs, instruments and crafts, he says, for many a survivor has gone mad and lost hope from listening to the incessant moaning of the undead.

Hearts & Brains (Faith & Reason)

In an excerpt entitled Physician, Heal Thyself from an upcoming book, Dan Allen (zombietheology.com) shows the dangers that come from the faith healing sect of Christ-followers. I am torn as to how I respond to this. On the one hand, he's absolutely right. Many of our brothers and sisters have left the Church or faith altogether on account of the branches of our brethren who rely solely on heart/faith. On the other hand, I, like our brothers and sisters who are drawn to such teachings, wish that it was that easy.