“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?” Matthew 6:25
“If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, and night wraps itself around me,” even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is as bright as the day, for darkness is as light to you. For it was you who formed my inward parts; you who knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; that I know very well.” Psalm 139:11-14
“They don’t make dresses for sausages.” That’s what a dear old lady in my Mom’s church choir used to say. When I was a teenager, I thought she was a cute, little Finn lady with a great sense of humour. She was short and looked ordinary enough to me – but I get it now. She was right. They DON’T make dresses for sausages. I have entered my SAUSAGE ERA. I’m a jumbo sausage. More specifically, I am a HOT Jumbo, Great Canadian Meat, Gluten Free, HIGH protein sausage.
I should say I’ve been here before. I had a brief reprieve from jumbo life when my health required a very restrictive diet. For a few years, I was more of a CHIPOLATA sausage – small and skinny. However, I have reentered the Jumbo arena, and let me tell you, it sucks.
Body dysmorphia is a terrible LIAR. When I was super thin, I was convinced I should be even thinner. Whenever my pants size goes up, I think I’m too heavy. Either way, SHAME has me in its grip. I wish I could take what Jesus says to heart and not give a crap about what my body looks like or, like King David, be grateful to be living in it for the gift that IT IS.
Sometimes, okay – NEVER I think about my body as a gift from God. It’s hard to imagine why the DIVINE would find it a pleasing place to dwell, but God chooses it ANYWAY. It doesn’t work as well as other bodies. It IS worse for wear. I’ve treated it poorly. There are accumulated and genetic health issues I simply can not fix. Most days, I am angry at my body, actually angry at MYSELF, and I’m a very long way from forgiveness and healing.
A couple of months ago, while trying on my spring and summer clothes, I realized I had gained considerable weight over the preceding two years. They were times filled with EXTRA STRESS that affected my self-worth, my family life, my social life, and my work. I’d given up alcohol (long story) several years before, so I distracted myself with FOOD instead. Apparently, eating a WHOLE chocolate bar every night adds up, and menopause weight is no JOKE, especially when it comes to stress eating.
Depression is a reality in my little life. It ebbs and flows in currents that start as an ACHE in my heart that quickly takes hold of my brain. It turns me into an actress. I stop living and fall into the shadows of despair and self-loathing. It’s HARD to remember that the blanket of darkness that enshrouds me is NOT as it seems. The weight is a cosmic hug and a warmth emanating from heavenly light. This ISN’T just Bible Study stuff or things I HAVE to say because I’m in the God business. God REALLY knows me and you too. God loves me and God loves YOU. We don’t have to act, or change, or do ANYTHING at all. Be yourself! I am a living, breathing, hot, sweating, extra large creation OF GOD.
I’m good enough. I’m strong enough. And gosh darn it, people like me – (SNL – anyone? Personal affirmations in the mirror? Nevermind)
I’m an agent of my Maker. Even if I’m a shape-shifter like the blobby Barbapapas, I used to watch on TV. ‘Clickety Click, Barba trick’- their bodies morph into whatever is needed – thin, thick, tall, short, big, small, narrow, or wide. Who cares. God doesn’t.
The world needs us so very much to be loving. Love yourself so you can dig deep and find joy and peace in loving others with everything you are. No holds barred.
PS. I’m still going on a diet and beginning a new exercise routine. It’s a way to love my body. Chin up.
My pastor father always waited until Christmas Eve to ALLOW Christmas music. On that long-awaited night, singing Christmas carols brought an uncontainable BURST of joy. At home, once we were tucked into bed, my parents would ‘play Santa’. We knew the GAME had begun when the sweet voices of the Medical Mission Sisters reached our bedrooms.
I CAN’T wait until Christmas anymore. Years ago, I searched out, “Gold, Incense, and Myrrh” on CD. I listen to it as soon as the Advent season begins. My favorite song from the album is based on Isaiah 35: 1-10. The chorus is balm to my heart in ANY season.
“Strengthen all the weary hands, steady all the trembling knees. Say to all faint hearts ‘take courage’, for he comes the Prince of Peace.”
THIS is the blessing I pray reaches each of you, especially during this time of preparation and through Christmastide. It is a very difficult time of year for all who are experiencing any kind of loss. Anxiety related to health and financial security is augmented by seasonal expectations. Broken relationships sting. Loss associated with unrealized dreams, the absence of loved ones, especially due to the gaping pain of death and grief, EACH surface bittersweet emotions that are particularly deep during times that emphasize family and happiness.
As we wait for the Advent, the coming of Christ, which we recognize in the growing light of our Christmas preparations, I encourage you to be EXTRA kind to yourself. Relish in all the small ways the joy of Christmas touches you. You can give yourself permission to listen to your heart. Although pressure to DO things or FEEL ways that you don’t or CAN’T will surely arise, be gentle with yourself and make choices that bring you the most peace. It is FOR YOU, for all your beautiful and sacred humanity, for your hurts and your hopes, that Jesus, Emmanuel, God with us, is born. Lean on this wonderful Counselor, the very Prince of eternal peace, to strengthen you and bring you courage this Christmas and always.
I’ve been spending a lot of time in the passenger seat as my son learns to drive. I am NOT fond of driving. I don’t feel like I’m in control behind the wheel. It’s complicated. Although I trust my son, implicitly, riding in cars augments my ALREADY heightened feeling of vulnerability. I’m not an ideal driving teacher, so I sit quietly and try not to freak out unless, of course, we are about to die.
I was 17 when I was learning to drive. My FATHER thought I was doing well enough to give highway 401, the then BUSIEST and WIDEST freeway in North America, a go. Thankfully, G1/learner permit drivers are no longer permitted to take this RISK. We began navigating through the city of Peterborough, where we lived. I drove us down Highway 7, which had 2 lanes. Then I continued driving on Highway 115, which had 4 lanes. Then, I turned off onto Highway 401, which had 8 lanes. With each highway, my fear increased with the SPEED limit.
Once on the 401, I panicked. I desperately wanted to pull over. There is NO ‘safe’ place to sit on the shoulder of the 401. I started crying and screaming, and swerving. My Mom and my sister (it’s unfortunate they’d come along on THIS adventure) also began to shout. Somehow, my Dad talked me through it. (I’ve blocked out the memory). My panic, dissociation and almost total shutdown could have killed ALL of us. I avoid highway 401 as much as possible.
It’s little wonder that I took up pastoring in RURAL settings. I do okay in the country on the back roads, as long as they’re paved. Once, while driving a parishioner home, I crashed my car into a tree while TRYING to power through freshly laid gravel with my sports car. (Sunfire) Fun times. Night time driving in the country presents the constant danger of deer crossing. I hit actually HIT one and have avoided driving after sundown ever since. And then there is snow. Snow is ALWAYS scary.
Once, early in my ministry, BEFORE becoming a mother (I think this matters to my state of mind), I was driving through a rural, winter storm and slid off the road. That’s not accurate. I BARRELLED off the road, jumping the ditch and landing in a farmer’s field, just inches from a large tree. I’d been making pastoral calls and was not dressed appropriately for winter. Since this was a time BEFORE I had a cell phone, I got out and trudged through the deep snow to the nearest farmhouse.
There were little kids outside. The mother was wary of ME – wearing frozen blacks and a clergy collar. I steeled myself to IMPOSE until help arrived. I used her phone. I didn’t call the police but a nearby parishioner who pulled my car out with his tractor. My car thawed for HOURS in his heated barn. It was terribly humiliating.
This accident could EASILY have been avoided. I COULD have stopped pressing the gas. I could have TRIED to steer into the skid. But I JUST gave up. What possessed me? How could I NOT care? In a single second, I made a decision that ran contrary to anything I dreamed I would do in similar circumstances. I didn’t think about it for many years because, well, accidents happen. Only AFTER being diagnosed with depression and mental health deficits after years of ministry, after having children, after MY child was diagnosed with mental health disorders – then the UNRAVELING began.
Do we know what is in our hearts, hidden in our minds? What weighs on our subconscious? When I was a child I used to think SO hard about what ‘FOREVER’means that it made my head hurt. Still does. The idea of forever and, by extension, the idea of ‘NEVER ’, torment me. Forever and never are impossible to quantify. If I’m honest, the idea of eternity is FRIGHTENING. Will my racing thoughts EVER end? Ending permanently is just as terrifying. How can my thoughts STOP? How can I just disappear, just stop BEING?
Somehow, something in me knows it IS eternal. This sense grew exponentially when my brother died 13 years ago (today, actually). I can feel eternity IN myself, and it brings both comfort and fear. It’s hard enough to open ourselves to trust in the goodness of creaturely living, let alone the eternal life of our souls! WHEN will it be well with our souls? Do we, as we are, have to END to embrace it?
Science says that electricity, energy NEVER burns out. I imagine that means THIS aspect of our little lives remains viable in the universe. THAT part is recycled. Stardust. Our bodies decay and contribute to NEW life on EARTH. But what of our soul? What happens to our individuality, our thoughts, our loves – are they simply LET GO? As a Christian, I look to Jesus, but he doesn’t give ANY satisfying answers, just more puzzlement. He says things like: there will be NO marriage, we will be like angels and belong ONLY to LOVE(God). After bodily death, being with family won’t be the primary activity. Worshipping Love ITSELF will fill our time, and ALL will be ONE family. We’ll even meet NEW family. (Matthew 22-30) St. Paul says that we will be closer to one another than we are NOW, but not in the same way. (1 Corinthians 2:9) So – we won’t be alone, but all of this still scares me. Also, the relief of letting go, giving my brain a rest, equally entices me.
The decision I made in that snowstorm was probably LESS a decision than it was a product of my Borderline Personality- emotional dysregulation. I can be overwhelmed, impulsive, and reckless when I feel threatened. That was a recipe for disaster BEFORE starting medication to curb these symptoms. I take better care of myself now. Our personal self care has benefits for EVERYONE we love.
Our brains are wired to survive, even in trauma. There is an INNATE awareness that life now IS important. It is important to LIVE IT. FEEL IT. SAVOUR IT. The richness and depth of ALL human emotion come from opening our hearts to love a little bit each day. Because of our capacity for love, I trust that WHATEVER is next is GOOD- because LOVE is good. I believe that Love will embrace the best of us UNTO eternity. All this confusion, learning, joy, and shit, ALL of it – is somehow WORTH the effort.
I work hard to remember to weigh my thoughts before acting. Every day, I give thanks for the GRACE to live THIS life. Life leads all of us into a deeper knowing of our souls that will somehow transform us into ONE and give us the PEACE that surpasses all of our current understanding.
“The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. 2 Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge. 3 They have no speech, they use no words; no sound is heard from them. 4 Yet their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world.”
Psalm 19:1-4 NIV
My husband GINGERLY tows our LARGE travel trailer so that our family can go camping with ‘the comforts of home’. By ‘COMFORTS’, I mean, bringing many of our furry friends. Andy removed the dining table and bench as well as the couch to make room for animal enclosures and adult sized bodies to sleep on the floor. As we careen down hills, and barrel around curves WAY too fast, my hubby swears and, I pray. Our kids (all over 18 except for 1) sit squished together in our F-150, which is VERY difficult for our daughter who lives with severe OCD ETC. Everyone is packed in like sardines. The twins and their youngest brother in the back, Andy and my oldest son in the front, with me between them. I have to keep my feet up on the console with my knees way up in the air – it’s like doing a 6 hour abdominal CRUNCH. Man, my knees ache, and my belly gets sore! The 3 guinea pigs are stuffed under the back seat. The gerbils are in two carriers at the feet of one of my daughters. The dog sits ON TOP of my other daughter and son. It is GRUELING. But we have collectively decided that it IS worth it.
Do you watch ‘The Chosen’ series on TV? It’s not for everyone, but I enjoy the visual and the literary license taken to depict ‘A’ story about the ministry of Jesus the Christ. MY CHRIST. There is an episode in season one, illustrating Jesus BEFORE the onset of his public life, BEFORE he calls his disciples or any of that. In it, Jesus pitches camp – FOR REAL. He sets up a cloth shelter, makes a fire pit surrounded by rocks, collects wood, forages food, builds a wooden table, a work bench for tools he carries with him, and a hanging rack. He cooks over the fire with clay pots, and eats from homemade bowls. He sleepswith his body on the GROUND. He washes his face in a stream. He prays and exercises. He sits and CARVES MANY things. He hums and sings and EVEN tells campfire stories to children who visit him.
It resonates. I was raised by AVID, RUSTIC style campers. I have given up some of THAT experience to accommodate the unique needs of MY children that would otherwise have prevented us from camping AT ALL. But I can speak this language of minimalistic, nomadic, nature exposed, and nature dependent circumstances.
The wallpaper on my phone is my FAVORITE icon of Jesus, “Christ in the Wilderness” by artist Kelly Latimore. She pictures Jesus sitting alone in the wilderness, under a starry sky, next to a campfire. He looks run down, in need of a rest. He gazes at the galaxies above, perhaps pondering HIS HUMAN SMALLNESS. The way he sits suggests he is cold or maybe shielding his legs from biting flies. It is meant to represent his 40 days of temptation by the devil. He is removed from all the ‘comforts’ of civilization and faced with the discomfort of CREATURELY living. To me, it speaks of reorienting oneself to the earth, the enormity of creation, and solidarity with lions and tigers and bears, OH MY! In my camping experience there have been bears, yes. Chipmunks, racoons, skunks, deer, and the damn mosquitoes are the norm.
A funny thing happens when we settle into our campsite. My son who has led the life of a HERMIT since Covid, emerges from the trailer to sit by the fire. To go for hikes with the dog. To visit with extended family. To smile and laugh, I can see his eyes and it fills me with RELIEF and JOY. He worries me, SO.
My neurodiverse daughter ALSO gladly emerges. She hunts for all things living, capturing frogs, snails, millipedes, aphids, salamanders, moths, isopods (roley poley/pill bugs), spiders and Daddy Longlegs (did YOU know they ARE NOT spiders? I still don’t like them). She admires them ALL and thoroughly researches them on her tablet. She takes tons of pictures and then releases them back where she found them. Her OCD seems to vanish as she treks through the bush, off the path, searching through rotten logs, under rocks, and in the dirt. She loves seeing nature in action. Ants moving their larva. The variety of mushrooms. How the chipmunks taunt the dog and steal her kibble. She doesn’t realize how much exercise she is getting. Like my son, she has exerted little energy since Covid.
The rest of us drink in as much of the beauty and serenity each day brings, even as it rains, as our pets get sick, and the trailer breaks. Being outside ignites energy. It lights a fire in our weary souls. We suddenly feel the urge to move, to explore, to create, and to EAT. All that fresh air makes us VERY hungry!
In Jesus time, I don’t suppose the smells and stuffiness of being indoors was very appealing. Going outside and breathing deeply is therapy for a life so congested with STUFF and overscheduling. It allows a moment to taste and see that the Lord is good. Look up, look down, look around, look within. God is everywhere. Nature opens us to receive the gifts of energy renewed, hearts filled, and the hope of living unto death.
No matter what your position on the spectrum of mental health, I prescribe for you to GET OUTSIDE! Creation speaks not a word. Creation enfolds, inspires, energizes, and teaches us how this planet is good. The animals – mammals, reptiles, amphibians, birds, fish, insects, arachnids, molluscs- vertebrates and invertabrates, they are GOOD! Trees, shrubs, grasses, flowers, weeds – ALL GOOD! Dirt, soil, rocks, and sand, moss, fungi – so very GOOD! Each with a God-given gift to serve the earth and EACH OTHER! WE are a part of this circle of GOODNESS! The same SPIRIT is where we live and move and have our being. (Acts 17:28).
Maybe Jesus wasn’t REALLY a camper, but he appreciated the created world. Maybe you aren’t a camper EITHER. You can STILL enjoy the fragrance of a beautiful garden, the breeze on your skin, the sound of the wind through the trees, the taste of the fresh bounty from the earth, birdsong, chipmunk chatter, the cry of a loon, the touch of soft grass on your toes, the smell and pitter patter of the rain. Nature embraces you just as the Spirit embraces you, wherever you are, whoever you are, however you are. These natural things are available to us to seek out, to nurture, and to visit. Serenity is found in hearts that listen for the ‘ground of all being’ that sings the rythm of the universe into the foundation of our humanity, into our Godspark, our very soul. What a BLESSING to belong to this GOODNESS.
30 Again [Jesus] said, “What shall we say the kingdom of God is like, or what parable shall we use to describe it? 31 It is like a mustard seed, which is the smallest of all seeds on earth. 32 Yet when planted, it grows and becomes the largest of all garden plants, with such big branches that the birds can perch in its shade.” Mark 4:30-32
My side lawn used to house three ENORMOUS trees that stood in a perfect row. Two flanked the driveway and the other stood by the little parking spot next to the garage. I agreed to have them TAKEN DOWN because they had signs of rot and were encroaching on the buildings.
Many people in my congregation thought they were walnut trees but NONE produced nuts and one had thorny branches and enormous white sprays that attracted SWARMS of bees in the spring. I was curious so I did some research. Whoever planted those trees in our yard either didn’t think it through or they had a twisted sense of humour. If I’m right [I’M RIGHT], one tree was a honey locust and the others were a ‘tree of heaven’ pair. HILARIOUS. I’ll tell you why. All three trees created prolific seedlings not only in our lawn and flower beds but also in those of our neighbours and, in fact, the whole village. They were invasive and grew with great speed. The roots went DEEP and held FAST. It took A LOT of work to dig up their roots and pull them up from the ground. There were SO MANY little saplings springing up that it felt like a PLAGUE. It was IRRITATING and NO amount of hard work could STOP them from growing.
Once someone told me that it was a pastor who did the planting. The house has always been owned by the church I serve and their pastors traditionally take up residence in it. I guess the pastor responsible thought AFFLICTING the parsonage with a tree named after the promise of honey and the plague of locusts from the Bible was FUNNY. At any rate, the whole tree thing seemed clearly PLANNED. The honey locust dripped sticky, messy sap on the roof of the garage and the sidewalk and, although the other two trees were tall and appeared to reach HIGH into the heavens, they were a stubborn, HELLISH nuisance. Amusing, right? I was pretty sure I hated those trees.
The scripture I preached a couple Sundays ago was Jesus’ parable of the mustard seed. I couldn’t help but think of THESE trees. A mustard plant begins as a small, inconsequential seed, hidden in the ground. Some varieties can RISE up to be a very LARGE bush. They aren’t REGAL looking or anything, just very ORDINARY, naturally occurring plants that grow like WEEDS. I’m no farmer but I know that the LAST thing a crop needs is tree-like weeds that steal sunshine and invite a bunch of birds and pests to pick around. Yet Jesus compares the mysterious in-breaking, sweeping [firmament- dimension-precinct-dominion-realm-‘kin’dom] Kingdom OF GOD to a mustard seed. An IRRITANT.
Those trees had grown like weeds. Even though they were uprooted, SOMEHOW through the miracle of nature, their offspring always continued, and, TO THIS DAY, pop up EVERYWHERE – through the boards of our deck, pushing into the bottom of our trailer, lodging tightly between the walls of the house and the steps. Those trees left a LEGACY of irritants, seeds with aggressive SWARMING behaviour and the ability to TRANSFORM landscapes by sprouting and spreading despite our best efforts to STOP them.
Jesus teaches that the kingdom of God is LIKE THIS. It pops up everywhere and spreads like weeds whether we TRY to stop it or not.
What does this mean for us who CHOOSE to put our energy towards the growth of GOD’S hopes and dreams for humanity and creation? How do we nurture the growth of human decency, justice and love? How do WE teach the way of humility and welcome diversity rather than stifle or silence voices that are difficult to hear?
I consulted several dictionaries and thesauri to inform my understanding of weeds. I was DELIGHTED to discover that the same concepts can be directly applied to our Christian concept of God’s in-breaking kingdom within us and among us. Jesus knew what he was talking about.
The kingdom of God is like ‘a plant out of place.’ It is like a plant ‘that interferes with human activities.’ It is like a plant ‘whose perceived negative characteristics might appear to outweigh its positive characteristics’, OR a plant ‘whose positive characteristics have not yet been discovered’!!!
The Kingdom of heaven is like a weed. It produces large numbers of seeds. These seeds ‘might remain dormant, but are viable in the soil for long periods of time.’ Perhaps the way of truth and love that we find demonstrated by Jesus IS undesirable in particular situations. Maybe THAT way of living conflicts with our preferences, needs, and goals. Surely a life lived speaking truth to power CAN be hazardous, unappealing, and difficult to control and simply unwanted in certain societal ‘environments’, but STILL the realm of God grows forth from our hearts, from the earth, and from the ever-blooming fruit of the Holy Spirit that animates EVERYTHING.
Did you know that some seeds of weeds have unique, God-given structures that ENABLE them to be transported and be easily spread? For example, like burrs to CLING to animals? The Holy Spirit is like a burr that clings to the seed, or even the seeds themselves that are consumed and SHAT OUT with ABANDON – ANYWHERE and EVERYWHERE so that God’s love spreads and propagates EVEN in unexpected and difficult places without us so much as lifting a finger to help it move along? SHAT OUT! I LOVE THIS VULGAR, EARTHY, ORDINARY TRUTH!
Soon after the parsonage trees were taken down we started to MISS them. The inside of our parked vehicles became HOTTER. Our deck and backyard had NO shade. We LONGED for the visual of their branches waving and the sound of the breeze through their leaves. NO more robins or squirrels nested in our front yard. We MISSED the extra birdsong and the chatter. In the spring when things started blooming, we missed the sweet locust tree and were grieved knowing we had DESTROYED a HAVEN for the bees that used to collect pollen from its blossoms’ and nestle into its bark for rest. Those trees had grown like weeds. The municipality said a new tree would be planted to replace them, a promise yet unfulfilled. If I so-desired, I could simply allow the weeds to grow back. I’m seriously considering this!
The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed, a weed, an irritant – like the honey locust and the tree of heaven – a real and present tangible LIFE that is ALWAYS open to us to experience and SHARE. Following Jesus can be HIGHLY disruptive to our comfort and our entrenchment in the status quo. Asking questions, seeking justice, taking risks for the sake of others – is HARD. It’s NECESSARY. The world needs US to be like that mustard seed – relentless in our mission to invite others into God’s love, into the way of humility, peace, and belonging.
A weed will grow without our help, even if untended – gradually, mysteriously, even unnoticed until – WHOOPS, there it is. Likewise, the realm of God is always expanding. It grows not just to look nice – but to BENEFIT creation with shelter and security. Perhaps it is an univited, unmajestic, nuisance to some, but to so many OTHERS it is a much needed reality providing shelter, safety, and happiness.
Jesus says that seeds sprout and grow even though the farmer really has NO clue how this miracle happens. The earth produces from itself. The earth has the power of TRANSFORMATION. Farmers have to trust the soil, the earth, the ground, the mystery. The kingdom of God is the same. The seeds grow on their own REGARDLESS of what we do. The purpose of sharing the fruit of God’s metaphorical garden is simply to ENCOURAGE this love and growth in our tired world. We are invited to sow the seeds God provides. Carry the burrs and spread the shit. This is GOOD news. We don’t know how it all works. The mustard seed doesn’t push up out of the ground as a full bush and neither does the kingdom of God! We have hope because the new life of the kingdom is already growing here and will carry us through to the harvest of eternal life when the kingdom is realized in its FULLNESS. It’s IMPOSSIBLE to mess THIS up! The kingdom will keep on growing even amidst our mistakes, the growth of God’s kingdom CANNOT be uprooted.
Sometimes the irritants will get our goat – and sometimes we ourselves must be the irritant for justice and love to grow. Maybe nobody WISHES for big old weeds – but I can’t deny that the pesky honey locust and the trees of heaven – in their fullness – provided sanctuary and a place for life to FLOURISH in HARMONY. Let’s look at the seeds that have already been planted and recognize what they have done over time and will continue to grow in the future and let’s accept with CONFIDENCE, the invitation to continue sowing and our INCLUSION in the spreading of God’s expansive and unbidden love.
My psychiatrist thinks Thursday is my day OFF, but it’s not. I like how happy it makes HIM to think I follow such a healthy routine, so I don’t correct him. Truthfully, I don’t have a consistent day set ASIDE to rest. There is NO time to rest, even if I’m NOT working.
Keeping up with all my mindfulness tasks is a JOB in and of itself – yoga, meditation, listening to music and podcasts, reading, dog walking, fresh air, sunshine, volunteering with ponies, seeing friends and extended family, or even just calling them, writing, crocheting, playing guitar, drawing, EVEN praying – crammed all together in a day or two ARE work. Add housekeeping and family management to that and I’m DONE. Actual work at my JOB can be a welcome distraction from my self-improvement schedule and home life.
Sometimes I fall prey to the jaws of my own anxiety and feelings of guilt. The SHOULDS begin to PROD at me even when I’m trying so hard to ignore them. You should be working, they nag. You SHOULD be at the office, there’s so much to organize, so much to prepare, so many calls you COULD make. It’s a nice day, you SHOULD walk around the village and visit ALL your parishioners. They’d appreciate it. You should go NOW. Isn’t so and so due for surgery? Didn’t somebody just have a bad fall? What about checking in with so and so’s recent widow? Isn’t there a get together, an event, a cause you SHOULD be supporting? You should be MORE involved in the community. There’s still half a day left – GO to the coffee shop, the community center, the park. Be visible. Be AVAILABLE. It’s good for you. People need YOU, Nadine! They are hard pressed for SOMEONE to minister to them. Get off your self-absorbed butt and get to work!
No? Well then, at LEAST mow the lawn, weed the flowerbeds, sweep the deck, do the dishes, do the laundry, prepare the recycling, take out the garbage, get the mail, scrub the floor, clean out the fridge. I never dust. My conscience has NOTHING to say about dust.
I’m dialing back on one of my antidepressant medications. It’s going great. Gosh I’m edgy. EVERY feeling is augmented. Shame is ugly. I COULD blame my meds. That’s what I’ll tell my therapist. Oh- those meds! They wreak havoc on everything ‘MINE’.
Rosie KNOWS the truth. She’s the pony who listened to ALL my bull yesterday. She could tell I was uncomfortable in my own skin – getting too close to touching my OWN rawness. Deep in a pit of self-judgement and loathing. Her eyes held me. I got lost in her gaze. She trained me up ‘real good’. It wasn’t a calm day at the farm and the horses were startling easily.
But Rosie overcame that. I can’t take ANY credit because I was a mess. First, as per usual, she gave me a hassle on our promenade to the arena. She didn’t WANT to stand where I asked. She KNOWS that she can easily OUT LEAD me. But something shifted. After rubbing her itchy bum on the support beam, she urged ME to groom her. She let ME lean in, scratch her ears and murmur at her. She was STILL. She was PATIENT (she’s usually sassy). When I turned away SHE stepped toward me, put HER nose on my shoulder, she coaxed me to ENJOY her contact, she nuzzled and listened to me breathe out. She was so EMPATHETIC and KIND. Thank God for her.
Today the SHOULDS are still bugging me. I’m mostly ready for Sunday. I’m procrastinating though. This is PRIME sermon writing time. The scripture readings are about taking time for rest, for Sabbath restoration and healing. Jesus says the commandment about keeping the Sabbath is a gift for US. GOD DOESN’T NEED REST. But God knows that WE DO.
In a few days my edginess will dissipate. I’ll settle down. The shoulds won’t be so LOUD. Let the Spirit fill your troubled heart with the same empathy and kindness I found in my pony friend. Medication or not, it WILL see you through the rough patches and bolster your tender heart for every tomorrow.
[Jesus answered them…,] “Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. 25Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.”
John 12:24-25
Since you’re reading this, you probably ALREADY know that I suffer from anxiety, depression, etcetera. If not, THEN, WELCOME! Thanks for coming. FYI – I reference my own mental health and that of my loved ones alot.
Above, I have quoted a bit of scripture from the Gospel attributed to the apostle named John. HIS version of Jesus is VERY SURE of his own divinity, his mission to gather in the whole world, and his coming fate on the Cross. I guess this isn’t my FAVORITE picture of Jesus. I prefer the human, SUFFERING servant, the ‘learn as you go’ kind of Jesus, found particularly in the Gospels of Mark and Luke. Anyway, this bit from John is PART of what I preached (I’m a pastor) about to my congregation this past Sunday.
When MY heart HURTS, when I am awash with grief, when I feel empty or like I am sinking, I HIDE behind my academia. I lean on my brain INSTEAD of squeezing what I CAN out of my heart. The result? Well, I have some lingering thoughts that I need to lay down.
I have read this scripture passage aloud at the interment of EVERY person I have ever buried. I listened to my father read it over the grave of my brother who succumbed TOO SOON to his mental illness. It is always a struggle to read these words.
I don’t HATE my life. That’s one of the first things people in helping professions ask – ‘do you consider harming yourself? Do you have thoughts of ending it?’ Thankfully, so far my answer has always been a solid NO. Sometimes I manage my mental and physical illnesses better than at OTHER times, however, I have always been able to see HOPE blossoming in my life even when I am suffering. But, like SO MANY others with mental illness, my brother could NOT.
My 20 year old daughter who LIVES WITH mental illness IS considered cognitively and developmentally neurodiverse. She IS generally happy and stable, but, I HAVE heard her TOO MANY times say that she hates her life. When she was very young, her tiny body would flail out violently in extended episodes of frustration and her sweet voice would cry out with disturbing AGONY. Medication changed that – but we sacrificed some of her spirit for the sake of her peace. It still troubles me. Some choices for good, SMART.
My brother respected the church but I don’t really know if HE considered himself Christian. My daughter says she believes in God but NOT in the resurrection of Jesus. How do my brother and daughter FIT into this ‘dying for life’ teaching? I have a hard time seeing the fruit that has resulted from my brother’s death OR from my daughter’s hardships, let alone from the death of my Lord and Saviour, Jesus the Christ. It’s not easy for anyone to find good fruit in the rubble of pain.
Even though I am discerning, I emotionally shrink back from these confusing words and maybe you do too. Read them again: “Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.” What does this mean for my brother, my daughter, and ALL of our loved ones who are at-arms-length believers? What about those who have NEVER heard the good news? What about those whose suffering overwhelms them into lifelong misery UNTO death?
How DO we reconcile HARD loss or the death of people we love with the bearing of God’s good fruit? How can we possibly understand what it means that Jesus endured what he did for OUR sake and that it was necessary for OUR salvation? It’s a lot to process. How can anyone see positive fruit amidst the terrible rubble?
DON’T PANIC. Let’s focus on LOVE. How do WE share love WITH and FOR our neighbours? Do we approach ALL people with the spirit of equality, esteem and worthiness? How I understand it, adhering to the Christian commandments and the doctrines of the church has a place and CAN be very GOOD, but love is best when it takes center stage in our lives. Each one of us is created from the same STUFF – earth, stars, recycled butterflies (I read this in a poem) – you know, all the ELEMENTAL particles of life. Christians believe that ALL people are created in God’s image out of divine love. It is a free and holy GIFT. Love is meant for goodness and for sharing HOWEVER that translates for us as individuals.
Many people serve the purpose of love without EVER associating it with God. God sees the goodness of our hearts and the service we do EVEN when WE think nothing of it. Love is God’s gift to us regardless of whether WE are conscious of it. Our works come from the love we feel and justice we serve for the sake of our neighbours whether we say it’s in the name of Christ OR NOT.
Andy (my husband) and I have four ‘young ADULT’ children (ages 16-20). They are each unique and we parent each of them according to THEIR needs. One might be super independent. One might not be. One might be outgoing. Another is not. Their comfort zones and abilities are ALL different. We fiercely love EACH and every ONE of them with our WHOLE hearts. We adjust our parenting to best suit their INDIVIDUAL needs. If WE can do that, and God created us, can’t we trust that God parents us in this SAME way? God loves each one of us and God relates to us each individually – SOME are ALREADY folded into the ULTIMATE Source of EVERYTHING’s’ embrace, OTHERS, God is patiently and gently DRAWING IN. Some will not realize the fullness of God’s love until their physical life ENDS. But God is always, always, ALWAYS evolving and adjusting and working, over and OVER to bring us into a cosmic relationship with the divine mystery and with each other.
Even I (not a green thumb) CAN understand the agricultural reference that a seed is useless until it is BURIED in soil where it will sprout and reproduce, it will burst with life, multiply and GROW. If it is never planted it will remain just an individual seed. The stuff about hating and loving our lives is not as cryptic as my weary heart sometimes hears it. I looked it up. In the original GREEK the translation for “love and hate” is a sentiment that sounds MORE like ‘favouring OR rejecting’ the ways of worldly living or ‘favouring OR rejecting’ the ways of our eternal and holy purpose, our souls. The word ‘Life,’ you see, in Greek, suggests MORE than the physical reality but also the BREATH, the spiritual and the eternal life force. Jesus is speaking about OUR Godsparks! (my word)
The physical world feeds our material wants and desires. Jesus is NOT suggesting that we seek out a life of poverty or abuse. Rather, when we accept even small sacrifices for the sake of what is holy, for God’s love of ALL people and ALL of creation, then we reject what humanity has made of the world and embrace the inbreaking realm of God with our WHOLE SELVES, with our whole heart, with our Godsparky soul. When we hold on to the things of this world, of our lives just as they are, when we would rather maintain the status quo than RISK something new, we will remain JUST as we are. When we let go of the things of this world right now, when we let love loose and share it abundantly – that’s when we TRULY live and find love forever abiding in God. We can choose to live in the in-breaking and everlasting realm of God TODAY, rather than WAIT for death and heaven – There’s STILL promise for those unplanted grains though!- I’ve read about seeds sprouting BUMPER crops after many many MANY years of lying DORMANT. Hope springs eternal. It’s NEVER too late for new life to grow – even if we DIE first.
My daughter (also 20 – twins!) and I were walking our OLD puppy girl, Tessa, the day after the EARLY warmth in March gave way BACK to wintery weather. The birds who’d all come back were visibly TICKED. Many robins took cover under our trailer, all PUFFED and angry. The bit of snow was melting rapidly as the sun came out. Our Tessa dog walks slowly and meanders. Following her lead, we had ample time to look around. My daughter and I saw MANY signs of spring even though the birds were on a singing STRIKE. Trees and bushes full of BUDS, some beginning to PEEK out from their protective casings, new GREEN growth on the coniferous hedges, and sprouts POKING out of the earth, some already beginning to open despite the cold and snow.
The natural world is full of resurrection on repeat. Dying and rising with the seasons. Nourishing and growing for new life over and over and over AND OVER.
There is more to death than endings. Sharing love, sharing the spirit of love that dwells within us, sharing our Godspark – draws ALL people IN TOGETHER. We are bonded by a mystical union. We will know ultimate love when we endeavor to understand that life belongs with death and death is a natural part of living. We need both death and resurrection for the world to turn. For our souls to blossom. For our goodness to continue on through the ages.
Jesus says – Hey, you want to see me? I’ll tell you how you’ll see me after I’ve been lifted up in death, in resurrection, in my ascension. You’ll SEE ME IN EACH OTHER. I’m going to die – like the planted seed. Don’t look for me in the ground, in the seed in the tomb. Look for me IN the GROWING plant, – in the full ears of grain. That’s where you’ll find me. Look at yourself and the fruit YOU are bearing.
The fruit is meant to be good. We are meant to live in love and I am CONVINCED you WILL see Jesus there. Jesus says he dies so that we can bear even better fruit. Love lives on, in and through the generations. Pass it on.
Which brings us back to the loving and hating our lives conundrum. Dying to this life is an invitation into new life TODAY. Not the life WE orchestrate but the abundant life of living in God’s eternal and transcendent presence right NOW. This death has nothing to do with the length of our physical life, but with the QUALITY of life. It’s about living in LOVE. Dying to our life to bear fruit and abiding within God’s FOREVER love NOW. Our lives can be a glorious proclamation of love for God. Even so, don’t forget that God loves everyone and everything in all of Creation NO MATTER WHAT.
In John’s Gospel, Jesus explains that seeking him, seeing him, does NOT mean avoiding pain and death. INSTEAD, we can choose to trust that God WILL bring about LIFE. We may not be able to avoid suffering, but we can cling to Jesus’ promise that he WILL light our paths toward LIFE. Jesus describes the CROSS as the gathering place for agony, glory, unity, and communion: “When I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all people to myself.” Jesus willingly took the violence, the contempt, and the hatred of THIS world into HIS body, his sacrifice. He held on to his message of UNIVERSAL love, grace, and liberation, knowing full well that the message would cost him his life. He loved and he loved and he LOVED, all the way to his physical, bodily end and continues to LOVE US – IN, WITH, and THROUGH US. The SPIRIT of Jesus DWELLS in each one of us. We’ve ALL got that mysterious Godspark that love ignites in our souls.
Jesus loves me whether I love or NOT. Jesus loves you too, and Jesus loves my late brother and Jesus loves my daughter. It’s challenging sometimes, especially on those low days where depression grips HARD – but I choose to use my wavering trust to REMEMBER that Jesus wishes to see me — to see ALL of us — far more urgently than we’ll EVER long to see him. This is my REFUGE and the promise I clutch to myself through the HURT. We love because he loves first. The cross pulls us toward God and toward each other whether we KNOW it or WANT it because, in the end- we ALL belong to God, the Creator, the ultimate source of everything, and WE are ALL a part of the mystery of the vastness of the COSMOS within God’s ever-EXPANDING circle of life and LOVE.
So, I’m writing about my mental health AGAIN. Not to worry, please. I AM OKAY. I forgot about the Family Day holiday and failed to refill my medications – so I’m NAKED (figuratively). For some reason, the pharmacy DOES NOT give out medical narcotics in large quantities (I know, right?) so it’s easy to suddenly run out if I get distracted. I’m off kilter TODAY but I know THIS, at least, is temporary.
It’s too bad that I am currently in the middle of an EXTENDED mood episode. Depression is a strange beast. I shut off and fly on autopilot through my necessary working hours – a hollow puppet of myself entertaining my audience with laughter and fabricated presence. People are cared for, sermons get written. I am thankful for every POSITIVE moment. When I’m like this, my whole self is not required to get it done. But, without my WHOLE self, tasks and interpersonal work are lacklustre.
This depressive state bleeds into ALL the nooks and crannies of my life – my family sees the worst of IT.
All it takes is one little stressor – a WORD. A LOOK. A THOUGHT. A BAD DREAM. A DISAPPOINTMENT. A REJECTION. A reaction from someone else I CAN’T control. My mood plummets.
It starts as a sweeping SADNESS that pushes behind my eyes, threatening tears. My chest becomes FULL with melancholy. In the pit of my BEING, grows a feeling of DREAD. My stomach reacts with nausea. Terrible mournfulness reaches up to SQUEEZE at my lungs, shortens my breaths, makes me gasp in the air, and the tears escape. My head becomes a pressure pot and my body dejected, my spirit broken. What begins as a quick change in mood SITS for hours, days, weeks, months. Immovable depression.
But LIFE moves on. I take on the semblance of myself and ride it out. There’s NOTHING I can do to appease the monsters of anxiety, shame, guilt, and anger.
I’ve learned to hide it. To smile. To DO the THINGS. But when I’m in their grip, I know they are just waiting to launch another direct attack when I’m ALONE.
Before I knew about mood disorders, I thought I was just weird. I’m STILL weird, but now it has nothing to do with my mental illness. I don’t know if that’s positive or negative.
Several weeks ago I saw a beautiful rainbow over Lake Huron while I was driving to a meeting. I was already into this bout of depression. There had been DAYS upon days of sunless, drab and dreary, rainy weather. The bow in the sky came with the first SUNSHINE in a long time. Everyone at the meeting was commenting on it.
Later I read multiple social media posts and saw a number of pictures of that SAME rainbow, a sign in the sky pointing to our intrinsic connection to each other and the planet. Images were shared from ALL OVER the county of Huron. It was remarkable to see the excitement and the relief found in a SHARED experience of beauty. Its profundity wasn’t lost on my depression.
We were talking about it that night as I was tucking my neurodivergent, now 20 year old daughter into bed. I ACCIDENTALLY leaned in to kiss her and quickly pulled away when I realized my mistake. She HASN’T allowed that kind of touch since she was a small child. But she said, “It’s okay, Mommy, you can kiss me”. RAINBOW MAGIC. The holiest of moments come UNBIDDEN.
I think this depression is beginning to lift. I wanted to write about the rainbow almost a month ago. Last night a friend told me she’d seen a picture of me on Facebook and she thought I looked powerful. POWERFUL. Her words SHOOK my tired bones. The image was from Sunday’s video. I was preaching about our solidarity as God’s children, Christ dwelling in us and through us at our best moments AND in our dejection. So many people, so much hurting, and so much LOVE to share. A thousand years are like one day in eternity. Perspective is everything. In a world full of ALL the things, rainbow connections are still beautiful and sacred. Thanks be to God.
The Friday before the New 2024 Year celebration was the twelfth and FINAL day of Christmas. The following Sunday was the Epiphany, commemorating the arrival of distinguished foreigners from the East, who were WISE in watching the sky and attuned to ancient prophecy. They made it to Bethlehem, where they finally set eyes on the child whose birth was signaled by the appearance of a PECULIAR star. The star remained and burned brightly above the infant Jesus. A sign of wonder to behold.
Although Christmastide has ended it is still the season after Epiphany – a season of revelation and discovery before we delve into observing Christ’s road to a cross, a story of suffering and salvation through him.
For a while now, I’ve been reflecting on the entirety of the yuletide season. As I’ve gotten a LITTLE older, I am learning to accept that nothing EVER goes exactly as planned. Personally, Christmas has never really been the same since my brother’s 2012, November passing.
Each year, as I begin to pull out our Christmas decorations, I think about HIS funeral because it corresponds with THAT TIME. We were in Orleans, Ontario at the Lutheran Church of the Resurrection. The WHOLE chancel area behind the altar, the focal point of the worship service, is surrounded by floor to ceiling clear WINDOWS. It felt like we were sitting outside among the trees.
As my Pastor father preached it began to snow the FIRST snow of the season. It wasn’t a gentle, slow, large flaked, magical snowfall, rather, it blew VIOLENTLY, harder and harder as my father spoke, as if God was making a nod to my brother’s adventurous and turbulent spirit, a final, gusty and powerful leave- taking. It FELT like my brother’s spirit was WITH us. It STILL FEELS LIKE his spirit is WITH us. I’ve heard countless stories of felt presence of loved ones passed – butterflies, cardinals, feathers, unexpected items reappearing from nowhere. And WHY NOT? The spirit that dwells in each of us is ETERNAL. Signs and wonders to behold.
The STAR at Jesus’ birth was a sign pointing to the wonder of God’s PRESENCE born among us. This SAME presence is ALWAYS with us. That’s what Jesus promises. We are never alone. The Holy Spirit fills us, teaches us, accompanies us, and guides us. The spirit dwells IN us. Christmas tends to heighten my awareness of Christ’s indwelling, the Holy Spirit that fans the flame of my soul, and is part of my Christ-mind, my inner Godspark.
Two thousand years ago, John the Baptist, who was renowned for his preaching, and later for preparing the world for the expected Messiah, baptized people with WATER a sign of REPENTANCE. John encouraged people to look their sin in the eye and make the CHOICE to grow past it.
To repent, in Christian terms, means to intentionally change your mind and turn around, to head in a NEW direction that contributes to an ever better and more intimate relationship with God. For me, this suggests choosing to notice the voice of the Holy Spirit calling to me from WITHIN myself.
Christians believe that during baptism the extraordinary Holy Spirit enters into ordinary water and washes all our sins away with a promise that we are God’s children, adopted to continue the work of Christ in God’s ongoing creation, and that we will be forgiven whenever we repent and turn to God in truth and hope.
We consider baptism a divine gift. Not everyone has the OPPORTUNITY or the WILL to receive this gift. Not everyone who IS baptized recognizes or chooses to unwrap and embrace the indwelling quality of the Holy Spirit. Life itself comes from being FILLED with the breath, the holy wind, the Spirit of God. It’s what ANIMATES us at the moment of our creation. The presence of the Holy Spirit is NATURALLY in ALL of us, baptized or not. Baptism can give us the special ability and the will to seek and perpetuate our own sacred origins.
What animates YOU? What do you equate with signs of divine sparks dwelling in you? The Spirit burns from within. Sometimes we feel the urgency. Sometimes we simply see the glow and feel the WARMTH.
In spite of all the things that didn’t happen the way they were planned this Christmas- Jesus’ paradise approaches. It GLIMMERS. The Holy Spirit keeps on showing up. That warm, loving, energized feeling of hope BURSTING forth from our own inner depths – awakened countless times in me over the last month or so.
When sharing a meal, my son carefully cut a piece of lemon meringue pie for my neurodiverse daughter, who lives with MANY challenges. He gently invited her to try to pick it up and put it on her plate because, “I really think you can do it yourself. It’s all lined up. Give it a try. Here’s a good fork. I’ll standby in case you need help.” And she DID IT! My son empowered her with KINDNESS. The magnitude of this moment may escape you but it overwhelms ME with spiritual glimmers of gratitude, hope, love and even joy. Into THIS mother’s arguing, disappointed, shame filled and exhausted heart, the Spirit WELLS up and whispers something new. A NEW dawn on a familiar journey. The WILL to keep going. It changes everything from the inside out.
At my church, it was the first time since Christmas 2019 that Christmas Eve service was in person or not stormed out. A flush of gladness swept through me at the sight of a full church, families united, children now grown, and hushed Candlelight.
These moments of CONNECTION, belonging, familiarity – that’s the Spirit pulling us together HEART to HEART. When we see the dignity of one another- that IS divine recognition from within. Signs of wonder. They refresh us.
In the year ahead, we can embrace a little bit of the freshness of something new. We are gathered together and brooded over in HOLY ways we cannot understand. The sacred moves US to create hope in ways we cannot understand.
We are the holy undivided family that encommpasses the whole of creation. We come from the same source, we BELONG to one another. How will we reach out to help others move away from lives of falseness, hate, and hurt and be restored to the way of truth and love? How will we invite them into repentance, reparation, and reconciliation? How will we work together to create a future based on mutual care, liberty and justice? Can we listen to one another with LOVE this year? I think that renewal, the opening of hearts to the divine, IS the WAY to restore ALL parts of the Creator’s beloved community. Can we remember that we are still washed in STARSHINE, born from unfathomable POWER and filled with holy light that SHINES ever brighter as we SHARE it? I hope this year that YOU will behold the signs and wonders of divine love that shine brightly and eternally. Check out the night sky and watch the hidden tenderness of humanity. Signs and wonders ARE everywhere.
"For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well." Psalm 139:13-14
My Dad used to say I was happiest when I was miserable. I’m NOT saying he was right, but maybe I am MORE comfortable in the FAMILIAR terrain of misery than I am in unfettered happiness. It IS a TASK to ALWAYS be on guard, trying to present an acceptable picture of myself and my family – ESPECIALLY during the holidays. The inner struggle to appear conventional and meet social standards is MORE exhausting than surrender. But it’s how I roll.
I’ve already hoisted the drawbridge and covered the peek holes. I’m determined to balk the barrage of uninvited speculation that I already IMAGINE is heading my way. This is a classic defense mechanism. WALL UP. My counter attack is being RESENTFUL and DEFENSIVE. Isn’t that precious?
It’s NOT what some may think. I do LOVE and cherish connecting with family, friends, and my parishioners during the Holy weeks of Christmastide. It’s my OWN preconception that I’m being judged, being deemed unacceptable or somehow insufficient, that DOES ME IN.
I hope I don’t come off as being full of myself or conceited – I NEED others to LIKE me and AFFIRM me CONSTANTLY. But are people REALLY looking THAT closely? I am mortified by any HINT of disapproval that I expect from others as they survey the chaos of my life, my parenting, my marriage. I cross my fingers and hope they know that we are UNIQUE. There’s nothing wrong with being unique! You can’t equate apples to oranges or sugar plums to lemons, right?
Stopping the bombardment of GUILT and negativity is difficult territory, especially for people like me who have just ENOUGH self doubt to REALLY engage in a battle between personal truth and conjecture.
The ANNUAL Christmas FAILURES began a couple Sundays ago. I forgot to charge the phone used to record our church services and WILDLY ran home in a panic (across the street) to rip the charger away from my unsuspecting daughter in order to give the device 15 minutes of JUICE before the ushers would come looking for it.
I’d totally forgotten about flowers that had been tucked into the fridge. DEAD funeral flowers are NO JOKE. Especially since they were saved to honour a church matriarch one last time. ALL the FEELINGS. I gave the ushers the WRONG hymn numbers to post, causing mayhem.
I forgot to remind someone to light the altar candles, so they were lit WELL into the service. One child asked if she could be EXCUSED from MY children’s message. How cute.
My sermon was long-winded and I could see people drifting. The stole I wear, symbolizing the heavy yoke of Christ as he carried the cross kept slipping off my shoulders until I got SO annoyed that I whipped it OFF and threw it on my chair. I was out of breath. After service, when the robe came off and I was walking through the hallway, I found that my fly was UNDONE.
At coffee hour I noticed the unwoven ends of my sweater HANGING out. It was a sweater I made – screaming out a message of my CLEAR incompetency. Hmm. Unwoven ends. I like that as a metaphor.
Later that day the local churches were having a live Nativity with REAL animals and costumed kids acting out the Christmas story. I was in charge. My help couldn’t make it. LOTS of people dropped out sick. SO – LAST minute EVERYTHING. Me and my new volunteer helper ended up as part of the costumed troupe. We were standing next to our little holy family, she an angel and me a shepherd, directly BEHIND the rear end of a cow. We were in REAL danger of getting pooed on the WHOLE time. I swore under my breath hoping no one could hear me and I wouldn’t be struck down. That day required extra anxiety pills and MULTIPLE pep talks.
Shortly after this I became ill (SURPRISE!) and had no choice but to ASK for help to finish up pre-Christmas visits and cheer basket deliveries. I didn’t JUST feel judged. I felt GUILTY and ANGRY at myself and anyone who dared say a word about it.
Shame, Shame, SHAME.
It continues at home.
We spend a small FORTUNE on vet bills – so what’s happening? What am I doing WRONG? In a matter of days, the cat started puking, UNNATURALLY, and repeatedly and our old dog started to veer OFF the tracks and was acting FUNNY. Is that ICH disease on the angel fish? WHY is there blood in the guinea pig cage? The gerbils attacked and wounded each other AGAIN. The giant snail retracted into its shell, is it dying? Is it dead? I dunno. It really looks kinda dead…
Everyday I fight with myself about all the ‘SHOULDS’ my teens would need to meet in order to fit into the social norm of their age groups. For instance, they should
-be done school by now
-drive
-socialize
-know life skills
-be practicing life skills
-be working
-be cleaning, helping, doing little things for themselves
-wear typical clothing, or at least something more than pajamas
-go to church (mine)
-be confirmed (me again)
-have FAITH (again, this one is my hang up)
-understand the value of money – everything is NOT disposable
-see doctors, dentists, hairdressers by their OWN volition
Although I DON’T necessarily AGREE with everything on this list, being AWARE this list exists is a crushing blow to my mothering skills.
SPEAKING of SHAME, my children Should NOT
-See my husband and I fighting or hear us shouting
-Know our debt, or our problems
-Parent us
-Mediate between us
HUMILIATING.
I have plenty of reasons to stay AWAY from family gatherings.
Our kids DON’T have proper attire for church, sleep, winter, or even daytime. We can’t afford it (due to our insane pet related bills! They eat BETTER and have better health care than we do!)
The animals are impossible to care for when traveling. I have FEELINGS about asking anyone to pet sit for us.
Our Truck is too SMALL for us. But it’s what we have.
We can’t take the Trailer because it is STILL in disrepair.
We can’t have people OVER because we CAN’T hire a housekeeper, because we CAN’T get the house in order WELL enough to let someone ELSE try.
Everything is broken or garbage. Our refrigerator and pantry are gambles I suggest you DON’T take.
Andy and I don’t get enough sleep or enough time alone.
All this self-assumed inadequacy wreaks havoc on our family’s
Mental health. Anxiety, Anger. Impatience. Poor communication. It all LEADS to feeling belittled and unheard, blaming and resentment. A TOXIC cocktail of pain and disgust. I dissociate. I binge. I shut down and shut out. We ALL have our own crutches.
Tis’ the season. I read somewhere that animals NEED winter in order to rejuvenate, heal, and grow, many in the darkness of hibernation or brumation. It said something about how people could EMBRACE this time too. To dismiss the distractions of the bright light. We winter by hunkering down. We are drawn to warm blankets, hot drinks and cozy fires. It CAN be a time to dig deep. To REFLECT on the past and look forward to the potential of the future. It is a time for REST and for waiting.
Sometimes I wonder what God was up to ordaining the likes of me to share the good news of God’s new and growing creation. To preach about the goodness of life and the power of humility and love. To take YOUR hand, give it a squeeze and remind YOU that you are NOT alone.
God is with us NOW just as God has ALWAYS been. We remember the dark, dank, messy birth of Jesus, Mary’s resolve, strength, and resilience, Joseph’s humility, patience and love of God.
In the midst of guilt, shame, and complicated human relationships, Jesus was born. Our brains and bodies belong to God who KNOWS us and LOVES us and CELEBRATES our UNIQUENESS and our SACREDNESS. No problem is TOO big, no hurt TOO overwhelming that God will abandon you. I know this to be TRUE because God has walked beside me through all the corners of HELL.
I hope that this year we will walk together somewhere more pleasant.
Misery loves company because the company of misery is God.
Nuanced Niddy 