Living life with steps of faith

This is a thought still in formation and perhaps it is a bit premature for me to blog as I process it.  I just read an excerpt from Henri Nouwen's book, "The Wounded Healer," that made me wonder if part of the struggle of infertility is a loss of sense of immortality.  Nouwen writes, "When man is no longer able to look beyond his own death and relate himself to what extends beyond the time and space of his life, he loses his desire to create and the excitement of being human."  He also writes, in reference to some thoughts of Robert Lifton, "And how can a belief in a 'hereafter' be an answer to the search for immortality when there is hardly any belief in the 'here'?  A life after death can only be thought of in terms of life before it, and nobody can dream of a new earth when there is no old earth to hold any promises." Infertility can cause one to wonder if anything they do now really has any eternal consequence.  If I am not

"Hence a man leaves his father and mother and clings to his wife, so that they become one flesh. The two of them were naked, the man and his wife, yet they felt no shame." (Genesis 2:24-25) A man and a woman together clotheless and unashamed is a beautiful image and a beautiful possibility.  It is also a beautiful reality for the couples who experience it.  Intimacy, vulnerability, unconditional love and acceptance.  Friendship. The image of a man leaving his parents in order to cling to his wife and become one with her is juxtaposed next to the Hebrew concept of "arummim," or being unconcealed / naked.  Beside our relationship with our significant other, there is one other relationship where we have experienced being naked.  The relationship we hold with a parent. Those who raise us are the ones who know us best.  They have seen us at our worst and hopefully proudly celebrate with us when we are at our best.  Our parents are our guardians, and as such they

When I was in middle school I created a list of 100 lifetime goals.  Using colorful markers and white pieces of computer paper I recorded these dreams of mine for the life that I wanted. In high school I recreated the list, crossing off the few items I had completed. In college, in writing pen, I added several more and removed new achievements. Yesterday, I went to find the list and was unable to locate it. So, I sat down to write a new list and realized how much my adult perspective had shifted things. A hundred goals at an idealistic age of thirteen was no problem.  But now that I have seen the work, patience, and obstacles that must be overcome to accomplish each goal, even creating a list of eight was difficult.  My new list, I suspect contains some of the items on my old list.  "Travel to Italy," "Be in a movie or television series," and "Learn another language."  It also contains some new ones, with lengthy clauses, "Have the entire house c