There is Room for You

room enough

There is room for all of us.

Imagine a space with no capacity.

Imagine a space that shifts generously to compensate for growth and every square foot has your name on it. Your name. My name. Our names.

Yes, there is room enough for all of us.

There is room for your dreams.

There is room for your voice.

There is room for your gifts.

There is room for you.

Christ calls us beyond the limits.

Christ crashes through the overhead; the low ceilings that box us in.

Today, Women, Sisters, lift your eyes. Look up. SEE your value.

Today, Men, Brothers, lift the women in your lives up through your words, lift them up. We must do this work of rising-up together, men and women working together in the rising.

TOGETHER, men and women working together to push beyond the limitations placed over our lives; to raise the ceilings that have been set at a lower height. This work is not just for women to empower women, this rising-work is for men to contribute in the activating, in the lifting, and in the empowering ALSO.  –We need you. We need you in the voice of value-lifting.

May we be life-givers together, working symbiotically on the waking of dry bones.

On this day as we celebrate International Women’s day, may we remember that to truly be empowered we must also empower. Activators in the waking of value.

Your voice matters…You are valued. Your contribution is especially worthy. Your gifts are especially unique. You are especially loved.

When the doubt of “who do you think you are” sets in, remember, there is room for you to activate your hearts-call… for it has been planted there for a reason and for such a time as NOW.

On this day, a day that honors women, my hearts-call is that we rise up together. Not us and them. Not some. Not others. — My hearts-hope is that we rise up together in a sisterhood and a brotherhood. As a family. As a church. As a bride. As a people that choose to lift our eyes up and over and beyond the limitations of low ceilings placed on our women! Globally, cross culturally and locally.

May we be people that act in the mind-set of victory. The work of Love is limitless and there is never a set capacity, there is always room for more. There is room for your voice.

May we be people that crash through the limits. Audacious in our progression of Love. Bold in our declarations of freedom. Leaving no one behind.

Not just today…but always.

– Jenny Rose Foster

Humble Beginnings From Torn Up Roots…

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Grapes growing, wildly overgrown, in my yard. Can’t wait to taste their ripened sweetness again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It has only happened once… maybe twice, when I have tasted a grape, the kind with seeds inside and I could taste my childhood.  There was a forgotten grape vine in my backyard yet I was always there, as a child, gleaning from that wild vine…

Within every suburban/urban yard there is life! Life in those flower beds, life in that green grass, life in the city limit lot that you now own or rent. We, as North Americans, mostly maintain own our little city plots of land…this is what we have, this is what we work with, this is our claim.

I have a dream to live in the country one of these days…Oh yes, one of these days I want to live and breathe and smell the country air with all of my heart and soul.  However, today is not that day… and if everyone wanted to live in the country we would no longer have country.

The city is an interesting place, an energetic magnet of thousands upon thousands of people with voices and opinions; diversity pulsing through it’s ebb and flow… and of course there are the real-time responsibilities of  jobs and needs and homes and yards and…yet… within the crazy hectic beating heart of the civic lands there is the inherent desire to stretch out, the appetite to smell the roses so to speak; to reach our arms high into the patterns of the sky and shout, “I- am – Freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!” Like wild beasts raising our chests to the thunder of freedom after the lightning strikes.

I know we all feel that. I know we all want that. I know…  because I feel it too.

I say, make revolution where you are at. Anywhere that you stand. Peaceful revolution.  I am!… OR more honestly– I WANT TO! That is why I write! I desire to write with the voice that I want to be and the vision and hopes and dreams and the current of what is and what I want to see.

I cannot say that my humble garden, a first year gardener, as a rudimentary edible creationist, is ever going to make front page news! However, I can say that we can make use of our lots in a simple kind of way… we can make some amazing things out of our small or regular sized plots of earth. You and I, let us do this together. Far and wide, close and cozy, let us do this collectively! With each garden, each edible landscape; with every bit of bee and butterfly friendly plants measured into your safe and anti-chemical yards; we can create a revolution together.  Not one little humble garden but many!

I have heard those doubts in my mind of, “Oh I will farm or garden or grow things or take care of animals when I move away from the city, when I have more room.” OR “I am too busy right now, and I don’t have a spot for a garden.” Anywhere that there is earth you can grow, I can grow, life will thrive if we let it!

There is no longer space for that doubtful frame of mind. I know far too many revolutionary artisans of the urban garden, caretakers of the backyard chickens, and makers of bee-keeping whom all live within the city in their regular lots… hence I can no longer say, “yes, let’s wait till we have more room to grow…”

NO! I am here in my city home, I can grow a garden… Then what is next, what more will happen later? I know that by taking one small baby step forward, new things will be added, life is happening. You can take a stroll through my humble garden.  It would take you 1 or 2 minutes to see all there is to see within my 3 long coffin-like garden beds streaming with life.  I am a writer so I passionately write on what fills me with inspiration, even the most simplistic of things; I write as if it is the most epic happenstance of all of history. I am daily filled by an outpouring of affection for my humble little first time garden and I am excited about what may grow from this.

I know many neighbors and friends that may have organic life exploding out of their yards, much more than I do; more robust with more seeds sowed and massive amounts harvested and I envy such beauty, in a loving-awestruck way. I am thankful for their example and efforts and I hold them as exemplary humans to seek wisdom and understanding from.

You see, as a child, I was hardly taught to live like this, I wasn’t trained to be a gardener by example, but I was surely trained to be a consumer. Yet there were those every other weekend hikes in the summer months to “Terabithia” with my father where he taught me to dance with the trees of the forest, and to pick mushrooms and to smell the pines and firs of the great trees. I love him for that, He taught me the seeds of change in that particular way.

My father was the cultivator, a man whom I had no idea that he had wisdom to grow life until I was in high school and he started with the only garden that I can remember in a rental that we lived in on those rare weekends. I am sure he gardened before that, in fact I know he did; I grew up in the deserted remnants of his garden work, with wild grape vines and empty rabbit cages on that far side of our forgotten yard,  but the garden in the backyard of his rental when I was 16 was the first one that I can remember him tending to.

So much of my life seems to have to do with what was lost… I want to cultivate and grow things, and in some way it makes me feel like I am re-birthing the empty spots of my childhood.

I am a feeler, one of those people that deeply senses everything. My intuition is on hyper drive and I can understand where most people are at. I think that comes with the territory of trying to find oneself at the same time.

My humble garden is growing better than I had ever expected! My modest suburban yard, it is nothing but yellowed grass under this sun-burnt summer sky. I am merely a writer, that expresses the simple things of every day life, if we all would just sit down and write about our little yards, wow what a phenomenal anthem that might be!