Soul

Unraveling

Pontiac Sunfire 1999

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.

Toilet Trauma

It didn’t go according to plan. ‘IT’, being, reducing my meds.  The decision was made by me, MYSELF, in the presence of my psychiatrist.  He wasn’t convinced but went along with it – maybe to spare my feelings or to let me really SEE. Maybe he thought it would be funny. Let me just say, I was monumentally wrong. 

Allow me to share a recent, fairly harmless example.

Here’s what would have happened IF I had been on a proper dose of meds:

I walk into the bathroom expecting everything to be in order but the toilet is plugged. AGAIN.  How annoying. Puzzlingly, the plunger is MISSING. How inconvenient. Being lazy and thinking I can just handle it using the toilet brush, albeit less effective, it will probably pump enough water to dislodge whatever is stuck. (EEW)

I quickly grab the handle of the brush and pull it from its holding container.  I say, ‘OH SHIT’ (literally) as the container is right FULL of nasty, dirty toilet water which propels forth across the entire half bath and makes an ugly puddle on the floor.   

I still need to use the bathroom.  I squeeze my legs together, submerge the brush in the almost overflowing toilet to swish it around and rinse off the offensive crap (HA HA).  I complete the rigorous pumping action and am rewarded by the glorious flush of the tank. “Oh good, the toilet isn’t broken.”

Now, I pick up the toilet brush container, dump (Heh heh) its contents in the toilet. FLUSH.  Put the container in the FRESH toilet water and use the brush to ‘CLEAN’ it. While Container and brush chill in the toilet, I spray and wipe down the floor, the walls, the mirror, the pedestal sink, the windowsill, the window, the blinds, the picture frames, and the cat’s litter box.  “Gee, I hope I got it all.” I finish by giving the toilet a quick clean and putting the container and brush back on the floor beside the toilet.  THEN, I use the bathroom and carry on. 

How it really went down – me on reduced meds: 

I walk into the bathroom expecting everything to be in order but the toilet is plugged. AGAIN. I scream, ‘BLOODY HELL! WHO PLUGGED THE TOILET AND WALKED AWAY? WHO PLUGGED THE TOILET AND FAILED TO REPORT IT IS OUT OF ORDER?  WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?” Puzzlingly, the plunger is MISSING. “O MY GOD! WHERE IN THE HOLY HELL IS THE PLUNGER?  WHO TOOK THE PLUNGER? WHY WOULD ANYONE TAKE IT? AND DIDN’T WHY DIDN’T THEY RETURN IT?  WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?”  

In a frenzied rage, I grab the handle of the brush and pull it from its holding container.  “OH SHIT!” The container is right full of nasty, dirty toilet water which propels forth across the entire half bath and makes an ugly puddle on the floor. “UUUUUGH!!! YOU BASTARDS!”  I still need to use the bathroom.  I squeeze my legs together, and hastily submerge the brush in the almost overflowing toilet. I VIOLENTLY pump it against the drain with superhuman force until it flushes. 

Now, I pick up the toilet brush container, causing spillage and swearing under my breath. I dump its contents in the toilet. FLUSH.  I angrily force the container into the FRESH toilet water and use the brush to ‘CLEAN’ it. Leaving the container and brush in the toilet, I yell, “I GUESS I HAVE TO CLEAN THE WHOLE BATHROOM TOO! WHY IS THIS ALWAYS MY JOB?  CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?  I’M NEVER DOING THIS AGAIN! NEXT TIME SOMEONE PLUGS THE TOILET, IT IS STAYING EFF-ING PLUGGED UNTIL THEY FIX IT THEMSELVES!” I spray and wipe down the floor, the walls, the mirror, the pedestal sink, the windowsill, the window, the blinds, the picture frames, and the cat’s litter box.  “F***. I probably missed some. We just have to live in FILTH.”  I finish by giving the toilet a quick clean and putting the container and brush back on the floor beside the toilet.  THEN, I use the bathroom and carry on. Everytime I meet someone in the house, I stop them and list ALL the UNPLEASANT things I HAVE TO DO EVERYDAY and how I’m not the ONLY ADULT in the HOUSE who is capable of cleaning.  I continue to passive aggressively return to this subject FOREVER. 

STOP.

I often question whether taking medication is stifling or ACTUALLY helpful.  The process of weaning off, changing my mind, and then slowly increasing the meds again until I reached a state of lessened anxiety, was a SIGNIFICANT struggle.  It was worth it just to discover that my spirit stays intact.  My essence remains with or without medication.

I officially take medications to curb the symptoms of borderline personality disorder.  Personally, I think ‘Borderline Personality Disorder’ is a misnomer.  It’s more of an EMOTIONAL disorder.  Without meds, I am unable to regulate my emotions and trend toward intense, catastrophic anxiety, inflexibility, negativity, and depression.  It is really hard WORK to check myself, especially as a pastor who is, by nature,  expected to be humble, accepting, and loving.  IF a trigger IS hit, it’s a challenge to reel it in.  I’m a bit of a walking emotional time bomb. IF I feel ignored, abandoned, or disliked, I react emotionally to quell the overwhelm of anxiety.  My behaviour CHANGES to protect, numb, or distract myself from the discomfort of extreme stress.  Shielding my fragile self-image sometimes spells personal sabotage and destruction. It can be AWKWARD.

Without the meds, my whole bathroom saga felt like a personal attack on my ability to parent and keep house. As if the clogged toilet was a CALCULATED demonstration of what I have FAILED to teach my children and how terrible I am for letting the ‘yuck factor’ in cleaning get OUT OF HAND.  It triggered a subconscious cascade of unwanted thoughts and memories about EVERY failure I have perceived in my motherhood and marriage. My self-judgment spurred the loud cursing that was designed to rouse the attention of my family, name myself as the victim and BLAME everyone else to take the pressure off of my isolated position in the story.

I don’t think this is unique to BPD, but I experience splitting, which is a marked division between my ‘NORMAL SELF’ and my ‘UNHEALED SELF.’  As a result, my mood swings are unpredictable.  I have issues with identity confusion and internal conflict. Insert [Imposter Syndrome]. Depression overtakes me with a deep sense of ongoing emptiness.  It is in THESE moments that I need MORE than medication.  I need to look inward, embrace mystery, and trust GOODNESS to prevail.

Once, when I was feeling pathetically helpless, I prayed for something very specific to cheer me up.  “God,” I said, “I never REALLY ask you for anything tangible.  It would help me enormously to know you ARE listening.” Then, as if God works like some kind of magical Santa Claus, I asked, “Please, please, please let the clothing I ordered arrive TODAY.”  I’m not usually so desperate about clothes, but these were clergy garments that would refresh my wardrobe after many years of body dysmorphia and clothes that just didn’t fit right and detracted from my professionalism.  When I finished I scolded myself for being SO petty.  I went on with my day.  When I got home THE BOX was on the table.  I began to do the math – “what day did I place the order?  Has it been 6-8, or maybe 12 weeks?  Was this MY intuition or did GOD really just DO that for ME?” The crust around my soul began to crumble. (sounds Grinchy)  “What IF God just did that?”….. “Um, God, okay, thank you for showing me that you ARE real and you HEAR me.  I’m so sorry that I put you to the test…  So…hey…you’ll deliver my package when I ask – what then will you do with my REAL problems?”  

This is an experience I often return to when I’m in distress.  God cares about ME. God loves ME.  God looks out for ME, myself.  The missing toilet plunger doesn’t matter.  The mess has no enduring consequence. My family is not to blame, no one is plotting against me or abandoning me.  The toilet is JUST clogged and there IS NO plunger. It’s an inconvenience. Nothing more. The goal of treatment for emotional/personality disorders is differentiation of self – having the ability to maintain one’s true self in anxiety and in emotional situations.  My healing work is focused on changing my relationship between how I THINK and how I EXPRESS my EMOTIONS. It leads me through the storms of life to find my center calm, my connection to the ground of all being, my Christ-heart, my godspark, my soul.

I’m a work in progress.  Aren’t we ALL? Dr. Richard Schwartz’ theory of ‘Internal Family Systems,’ takes Dr. Bowen’s ‘Family Systems Theory’ which is concerned with the different interdependent roles assumed within healthy AND dysfunctional families, and APPLIES IT to an individual person and their many ‘parts’.  This resonates.  I don’t feel that I have a bunch of different personalities inside of me that fight for leadership.  But, I do feel like I have distinct PARTS. 

In IFS the ‘parts’ include EXILES, the parts of yourself that your ‘system’ works to keep hidden and out of trouble.  They carry your burdens like shame, fear, grief, anger, dependency, and loneliness. They also long to be healed and freed. MANAGERS are your parts that protect ‘the whole system’ from feelings of hurt and rejection. They maintain control by creating an illusion of safety by being super competent, and utilizing your self-critic to prevent humiliation and abandonment.  FIREFIGHTERS serve and protect ‘the system’ when triggers hit too close to home.  They react, attack, and create diversions (like addictions, eating and sleep disorders, extra work, self-harm, and dissociation), all to keep your exiles from seeing the light of day.

My favorite part is the CORE SELF.  When you can uncover this part and maintain it, it becomes the active and compassionate LEADER of all the other parts. It takes away their ‘jobs’ and replaces them with pleasant, and positive, productive roles.  It is your natural essence, that has been sheltered from damage by all the other parts. Your Core Self acts with spontaneity, and creativity. It emerges when you feel centered and truly safe and calm. Your confident core self is Playful, Curious, Adventurous, and Stable. It is your BEST SELF.  When it is uncovered, it needs NO improvement, because it’s already perfect the way it is…..the way God made you.

As a Christian, the core self, my best self, fits the concept of my soul – which I believe is beyond the limits of the physical body or the human psyche.  The soul is the essence, energy, electricity, everlasting part of you that IS accessible during this earthly walk and contains ALL the wisdom and strength you need to find peace and healing WITHIN  yourself.  I’m not talking about a cure-all.  I am talking about a state of being that is calm, knowing, and in fact, a little piece of God’s all encompassing love that has settled in you no matter what else is happening in your life.  

People are complicated.  When you are faced with dirty toilet brushes and stuff that’s stuck, BREATHE. Center yourself.  Ask all your managers and firefighters to give you some room, to step aside.  Hug your exiles and draw on your CORE – the being that God meant for you to be – be filled with THAT light.  Bathroom drama, I think most dramas, CAN be navigated with improved self-awareness and the courage to be vulnerable. We can live as we die and die as we live within our personal ‘system’ and in interconnection with and care for the ‘systems’ of OTHERS, even if they expect you to clean the toilet.

Resurrection on Repeat

[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. 

 

To Infinity

“Let us therefore no longer pass judgment on one another, but resolve instead never to put a stumbling block or hindrance in the way of another.”

Romans 14:13 NRSV Bible

Yesterday morning I chased after my cat yelling, “WAIT, IT’s ALIVE!”  The tiny victim of her recent hunting was still literally kicking before I aided its dispatch and put it out into the flower bed.  Now, you probably have an opinion about allowing pet cats outdoors.  Domestic cats don’t disturb the natural order of things when they are kept INSIDE.  I’m of a mind now, that perhaps humankind was cruel to adopt anything wild as a pet in the first place.  

Life confined indoors certainly does NOT suit my cat and keeping her indoors ALL the time certainly does NOT suit me.  Letting her out has saved me years of her relentless spraying.  As a youngster, she ruined everything from our shoes to the kids’ stuffed toys.  I spent time cleaning up after her with alcohol or vinegar and a variety of deterrents, but NO, that DID NOT stop her.  I carefully followed instructions about where to locate and how often to clean her litter but she didn’t follow the RULES.  Besides the filthy mess, Daisy was destroying all of our wooden and upholstered furniture with her claws. (I’m AGAINST declawing, by the way.)   I’m MUCH happier seeing her use the clothesline post to sharpen her nails rather than my chair!  

As a last resort, our veterinarian TOLD US, “for the love of all that is good, LET THAT CAT OUTSIDE!”  And so we did and, she continues to do some nasty, wild, catty things indoors but letting her out LESSENS the impact inside. She Does bring in her catches from time to time, but I’m okay with this compromise.

Does everyone agree with my decision?  NO, and I don’t expect you to.  I know that in some places cats are forbidden by law to be outside and for good reason.  Perhaps I should NOT HAVE a cat since I’m not willing to accept whatever sacrifices that means for my household.  But I do.  I DO have a cat.  And SINCE I have a cat, I have decisions to make and those decisions will NOT necessarily jive with YOUR decisions and opinions.  Are you going to chastise me?  Maybe.  Surely someone will pass negative judgment on me. Unfriend me.  CANCEL ME. 

Whether or not I should let my cat outdoors is MY decision and dependent upon MY personal, unique set of circumstances. I understand the risk and the cons for myself and OTHERS. God, the Higher Power, the Source of everything, KNOWS what I am up to and I’ve made my peace with that. I am prepared to answer to God, the Eternal One, for how I’ve chosen to accommodate my cat into MY life.  

This sounds RIDICULOUSLY trivial, doesn’t it?  Personally held opinions can SO easily become obstacles that STOP us from getting along.  We easily cast judgment on anything or anyone that doesn’t match up with our OWN views.  Even faith practices are not left untouched.  In Christian scriptures we can read a letter from Paul (a prominent Jewish Christian around 30 years after Jesus) written to a mixed Roman/Jewish church in Rome which shows that the faithful followers of Jesus engaged in HEATED arguments about what they ATE and which days they marked as HOLY.  It’s clear that it has ALWAYS been very hard NOT to pass judgment.   So, how do we STOP bickering about personal preferences and focus instead on WORKING TOGETHER to help each other steer away from moral failure?  

MORAL FAILURE, that’s right.  Moral failure is a scary idea, isn’t it?  To live JUSTLY with one another, it’s necessary to be mindful of what we, ETHICALLY, are WILLING to NEGOTIATE.  Sometimes it isn’t possible for us to flourish with others because, well – sometimes we hurt each other in ways that are DIFFICULT, if not IMPOSSIBLE to reconcile.  It is helpful to remember that at our CORE we are the same.   We come from the same Source. Christians maintain that we are created in God’s image and are loved EQUALLY by the Creator of Everything with NO exception.

Across many faiths, WISDOM invites us to LOVE and pray for our enemies and those who hate and persecute us.  White supremacy, hate speech and hateful actions, racism – these are CHOICES beyond what those who follow the way of love are WILLING to negotiate.  These sins, these immoralities, are UNDENIABLE. These hurtful actions and abuses of power NEED to be dealt with.  The community of love NEEDS to call out and expose these destructive lies and those who continue to accept and perpetuate them.  

In the ETERNAL realm of love, the wrongdoer still needs to be held ACCOUNTABLE.  When we are living in LOVE,  forgiveness isn’t necessarily FAIR or DESERVED. Can you imagine if it was?  I hope the Great Creator is NOT modeling divine forgiveness on human choices.   I believe that the DIVINE invites US to forgive others out of deep, enduring LOVE – over and over and over to infinity and beyond. 

It’s important to note that reconciliation requires BOTH the offer of forgiveness and the NAMING and acceptance of RESPONSIBILITY for wrongful, hurtful, or abusive behaviour. Biblically speaking, our moral model is Jesus who is always showing us how to prioritize GRACE and MERCY as well as ACCOUNTABILITY to one another and to our Source, to God.  Jesus tells us to forgive our neighbours from our HEARTS.  

Whenever an issue of the heart arises I put on my SOUL glasses.  Through these lenses – the view of eternity is clear.  My inner spirit says, “Hey, Nadine, NO ONE is perfect.”  It’s true, isn’t it?  I don’t know WHY this is true or WHY it is so comforting- but IT IS.  We all fall short, some fall further and harder than others. But my heart always reminds me about grace.  The Eternal Wisdom Keeper who dwells in us, through us and with us IS MERCIFUL.  It’s time to stop keeping a tally of how much or how many wrongs you, yourself have already forgiven.  Love and compassionate mercy are the character of our Creator.  As REFLECTIONS of our GOOD SOURCE, we are invited to reciprocate – by loving and forgiving and keeping JUSTICE in our communities of faith and in the world. 

Just so you know, I forgive my cat.  She’s just being a CAT.  I feel bad for the mice, I really do.  They are tiny and adorable innocents.  Creatures of the Creator.  I also forgive myself for making a decision in favour of MY own comfort.  You know what – it’s okay.  Nobody is perfect. This is the driving fact behind our ABILITY to forgive each other.  We make selfish, messy and complicated decisions that are not always ideal.  In quick order, we tear ourselves down and we puff ourselves up in judgy self-righteousness.

But when we CHOOSE to walk in the Spirit of love, it means that we let go of our insistence on being right and dedicate ourselves to making ROOM at the table.  We can WELCOME ALL people, as we have been welcomed and encourage ALL to celebrate and give thanks to our Maker in their OWN Spirit-inspired creativity, and DIVERSITY.  We CHOOSE to love one another.  We CHOOSE to work toward healing relationships.  We CHOOSE to move toward a beautiful, indescribable UNITY of the physical, spiritual, and communal realm of LOVE that is available to us right now in part,  and will one day come in the true fullness of eternity.  We can embrace the way of LOVE, everyday.

We can bless our decisions to MAKE them the RIGHT decisions for ourselves by committing them to the Creator.   In terms of our multi-faith reality, our varied practices, however grand or routine, are done for the SAME PURPOSE.  The motives are the same.  We do what we do because we believe it is the right thing to do in order to HONOUR the ONE who made us, sustains us and loves us.  If this is GOOD ENOUGH for the Divine, then why can’t everyone be accepted as ENOUGH and GOOD?

Whenever we let go of the hate, the desire for revenge, anger, and retribution – EVEN WHEN it is completely understandable to FEEL and WANT these things, we take a chance that there is a POSSIBILITY for a wonderfully RENEWED relationship or a RELEASE from the oppression of anger and resentment that BINDS us.   Either way, we are loved and we are FREE to love. The rhythm of the universe and the light in our hearts work together to SHINE an eternal energy of LOVE and connection day by day and age after age.  SHINE ON.

“Forgiveness is a powerful expression of the love within our soul.”

Anthony Douglas

Nobody’s Perfect

 “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

2 Corinthians 12:9

I’ve felt a real SHIFT recently.  It didn’t come all at once but I could sense my heart moving DIFFERENTLY. Is this something that comes with age? No – it is NOT age!  I prefer to call it an increase in the collection of LIVED experience. This coming weekend I will be celebrating another year added to my maturation of KNOWING.

The last year has been a personal push and pull but, after some much needed self reflection and trusted feedback, I have made some quiet decisions that make me feel a LITTLE more settled.  I don’t feel AS lost.

Personal PEACE has always been hard to maintain. For a time, I was totally and completely OBSESSED with exercising. Yoga, weightlifting, walking, sit ups, squats  stretches – EVERY single day.  My muscles had no time to heal. I also cycled through eating less, eating more, eating healthier, and fasting (AKA  STARVING myself).  This left me with too little protein to support the high activity so I was CONSTANTLY dizzy.  My body shape morphed rapidly and accordingly, as did my personality. 

Meditation, mood tracking apps and journaling didn’t last long.  I’m all disordered and couldn’t sufficiently rein them in. I committed myself to going outside and standing with my face to the sun for 10 minutes a day – even in the deep crispness of winter. I committed to SHOWERING.  SERIOUSLY. If you get it, if you relate to ANY of THIS, you are my kindred. WELCOME. Pull up a chair. I KNOW, RIGHT?

I kept up with the yoga during my sick leave, four years ago, and I read 142 books. I expected to return to work rejuvenated. Instead  I was EXHAUSTED and have remained so through Covid right to THIS moment.  

Breathe in. 1-2-3-4-5-6.

Hold. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8.

Breathe out. 1-2-3-4-5-6.

I think, I HOPE, I’m finally starting to TOUCH it. INNER PEACE.  I’m still working on all the ‘forgive yourself for not knowing then, what you know now.’ There’s A LOT to wade through there. 

I didn’t know the venom my oldest brother directed at me EVERY moment of my childhood was traumatizing. Since his death 10 years ago,   I’m only now deciphering how my relationship with him impacted my whole life. My relationships. My choices.

When I get trapped by the SELF WORTH devil,  it IS hard to escape unscathed. It’s way too easy to list all the things I’ve done wrong in my life and worse, all I’ve failed to do as a parent.  It’s truly something to be able to sort out the blessings from the pain of our lives because the blessing often roots in the hurt.  It ain’t so easy to just ‘turn that frown upside down’. So much baggage hangs from the sad lines on my face.

The only thing that has really kept me from sinking is my desire for God. Does that sound weird? Yup. It sounds weird, doesn’t it? Desiring God.

I saw a Meme somewhere recently that took me by surprise. It said, 

“What a great joy it is to laugh with someone and consciously notice how much their existence means to you.” It drew out tears. Maybe I’m just an emotional jellyfish, but they were real and beautiful, a salty wet ocean that reminded me again of my faith. My constant yearning for God.

In the moments I despise myself most,  I most clearly realize how much I need to depend on God to LOVE me for who I AM.  I am NOT the perfect daughter, sister, wife, mother, aunt, pastor, or friend.  Imperfections and weakness seethe through me, they battle with me to be let out. When my most hated parts wear me down, I am reckless, snappy, snarky, hateful, and so very angry.  But you see, when I come back to myself, shake it off, straighten my blouse, God is still loving me like crazy. ‘Good job, kid. You made it through. What will you do now?’

My answer will always be, ‘Well Almighty One, I will share love.’ God’s love is the constant, stable reality that even accepts us at our worst, when we feel like failures, when we feel sinful. Our weakness pulls us closer to God. I can feel my godspark soul shine brightly through the shroud of self-disgust and radiate outward, guiding me (AND YOU, TOO) to be empathetic, and to embrace others in their weakness too.  We can pause, breathe, and wonder at the gravity of human worth, the simple joy that comes in accepting one another as God does.

Our imperfections can bring us closer to God and to others, especially to those we might look down on. Our flaws help us grow compassion and the ability to give and receive love.

This is the PEACE I feel I’ve been shifting toward.  God is perfect.  We are perfectly designed to be what God created us to BE. The divine Spirit dwells within OUR bodys, which are still full of sin.  God has chosen, for now, that we, the forgiven, still be imperfect. It’s the now and not yet of God’s realm within us. You are a Spirit-filled ‘work in progress’.  We are not yet what we will someday be. 

There is strength in weakness and joy is at the ready in your divinely held heart. 💖

 “Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own” Philippians 3:12
Details

Oh Poop

Here’s the thing. I’m just going to conclude that you ARE enough and you are LOVED. If that’s all you need today, great. As you were. 🖖Nanoo, nanoo.

If you are still with me, PLEASE tell me it’s not just me who gets caught up in the smorgasbord of self-help and advice, streaming from cyber space? I spend an inordinate amount of time on my devices, reading HUNDREDS of tantalizing comments on topics including parenting teens, cleaning tips, and mental health. Ridiculously, I’m a member of a group called “going grey gracefully” while I sport just a few downy silvers on my head.  I NEVER comment or post on these sites. I’m quite comfortable LURKING because, good heavens, what if someone ENGAGES with me? Then they will KNOW.  BUT, I find (wayward) pleasure in conversing with myself about the delightful humour and discovery as well as the SHOCKING (gossipy) negative JUDGEMENTS voiced online (especially) when someone is genuinely asking for help or just has weird humour. I like weird humour and honesty the best. 

I’ve always enjoyed ‘People watching’. Scrolling the Socials just takes it to a new and more in depth level of SEEING and identifying with the vulnerability of humans. I religiously follow cleaning tips knowing full well I’m NOT going to clean any better – BUT, I find others who are just like me in that group. A backward solidarity develops. It quite ODDLY helps.

Before I was introduced to social media I partook in the risk free watching of reality TV shows. When my kids were tiny I watched ‘Jon and Kate Plus 8’. As a young professional I watched ‘What Not to Wear’ and any home makeover and house cleaning shows.  I liked ‘The People’s Court’, and survival challenges, and, oh, how I GLORIED in, ‘You Are What You Eat,’ a shameful show that involved unhealthy individuals presenting their POOP in tupperware containers for examination! Egad! What is this affliction?

As far as I can reckon, at least personally, this behaviour is seeking validation for the way we REALLY live. Online offerings become (for me, anyway) the village that teaches us HOW TO COPE- especially for those of us who are at a distance from mentors, family, and close friends.   I’ve spent my entire adult life far from my circle of trusted people.  We can’t help measuring our lives against the Instagram-ready backdrop of people living their BEST LIVES.  Advice is coming from goodness only knows where and our vulnerable brains can’t always filter out the NONSENSE from the TRUTH.

Unfortunately, (I find) social media does much more convicting and condemning than it does praising or affirming. Of course there ARE some absolutely wonderful sharing platforms and groups that are healthy and helpful. My mentally ill brain always gravitates toward the SHOULDS rather than the truly gracious spaces. I fixate on promises of mindfulness and peace even when it’s from a Facebook, self-proclaimed expert.

I know that even though it can be an all-consuming crutch, I WON’T STOP scrolling because it absurdly feeds my need for CONNECTION with others.

It really BUGS me how much I actually NEED others because I prefer being alone. But, I also like laughing, learning, and sharing with others.

We are social animals.  We are designed to live in community. This DOES NOT mean CONSTANTLY being in the presence of others. We CAN retreat.  Sharing our solo experiences when we’re ready, through art, the written word, or our storytelling, IS being in COMMUNITY too. YOU, as you read this blog are unwittingly connecting with my heart. (Cue the segue into faith talk – stop here if you don’t want to go there. PS. You are enough and you are loved.)

Our hearts matter. Your deepest you, your godspark, your spirit, your soul MATTERS. Online platitudes and judgements are often inefficient bandaids to hold ourselves together. It’s best (I think) to use social media for entertainment and inspiration. Know that most of the ‘people’ preaching the hard fast truth are not necessarily right. Do your own research and think YOUR OWN thoughts.  All of us have sensitive inwardness that can so easily be hurt.

I’m a Christian, so when I speak about spirit, original life source, and universal connection, I’m referring to God whom I worship. Regardless of your faith resonances, we have a lot in common.

We matter in the great order of things. We all began with the Great SOURCE of all being.  As big as this spirit energy is, one of the greatest and wonderful mysteries is that this All in All, beginning and goodness of everything, from beetle bugs to star shine, knows us individually and personally.

In the Christian Bible, the Jewish Torah, the Muslim Quran, and holy books I have never known, prophets claim that the same source of life for all creation knits us together in the womb of our Mothers and breathes spirit life into us individually and collectively.

Like our ancestors we live filled with the eternal Spirit, Soul, universal love and goodness of our original life source. Our lives are full of purpose.

When we are aimlessly scrolling for reflections of ourselves in the best and the worst of social media, when we feel small or insignificant or are suffering in any way, we tend to forget where we came from. The great source knows us before we are even aware of ourselves. We live unique lives that cannot really be equated with or far removed from the experiences of others. Being in community and relationship in all our diversity is BEAUTIFUL.

As advanced as we are in medicine and science, mystery surrounds how each child has a distinct personality and skills, as well as a soul, a lasting energy. I believe these parts of us are Spirit-breathed. We can put cells together, but creating a soul is beyond us. We can manipulate biology, but a soul’s formation is in the hands of the great mystery.

We BELONG to one another.  Our individual life journeys involve SHARING our hearts, our skills, and our faith in goodness. We can share our dedication to hope and our mission to create a better world TOGETHER. Instead of pointing fingers, lifting up inadequacies, and drawing attention to how much or how little our poop stinks, we can help one another name what IS UNIQUE about us and assist each other in finding purpose and peace.

We are here by the design of the greatest and best mystery there is. We were loved before we knew anything else. We will continue to be loved when what we know fades. We will be loved into ETERNITY whether our house IS clean or our teenager is lippy, or NOT.

In the meantime, know you ARE NOT ALONE in the expanses of the internet world. We have each other. Even our life source is with us, beating in our hearts, laughing in our souls, and living each moment in each breath you breathe. I BELIEVE IT. I hope that you, too, can allow that belief to ground you through everything you face in life. You ARE ENOUGH and you are LOVED.

Drown Proofing

“To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower 
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand 
And Eternity in an hour”

William Blake

My parents are die hard campers. Until quite recently, they slept in sleeping bags on the floor of their tent with only a ‘luxurious’ thin piece of foam under their 80+ year old bodies.  They always took pride in roughing it out.  Dad went logging for deadfall in the bush. He sawed up knotty wood and let my brothers help chop it and set it up to dry around the fire.  Everything from toast to spaghetti was cooked there.  Even the water we lugged to the campsite was fire boiled to heat for dish water and general washing. 

Dad took us fishing in his Kevlar canoe, portaging into the unknown to find good fishing holes.  We learned to fix wriggling worm bits on our hooks and to fillet a fish on shore using a flat rock or the edge of our paddle as a cutting surface.  We slept in a canvas tent, lined up like sardines, wearing long underwear, hoodies, and socks, trying to hold our pee all night as we listened to the shuffling of wildlife around us and tried not to feel the uneven, rocky, rooty ground beneath our hips. Bug spray was unheard of. 

I looked forward to our camping trips.  We were together and close, and relaxed. The hard work looked fun when my Mom and Dad did it with poise and their practiced rhythm.

My teenage children experienced their grandparents camping ways when they were young.  After an unsettling trip with a nightly bear visit, we bought a hard top trailer and have never heard the end of it.  Until Covid, we camped annually with them and my brother on a nearby site (even when we started to live in the trailer section).

We’ve been binge watching the ALONE series on TV.  I love it. It reminds me of my childhood summers. 10 contestants are dropped in remote, harsh areas, with 10 survival items of their choice, a pile of camera equipment to be their own film crew, and a satellite radio to tap out when they can’t do it anymore.  They have to source their own water and food, build their own shelter, and light and tend a fire to survive- rustic camping to the ‘nth’ degree.

It really helps me appreciate what our ancestors endured. ALONE is a survival show. It’s very entertaining to observe and think about how we’d do things if in their shoes.   But, a funny thing happens to these survivalists.  While all alone, fighting to survive they discover that life isn’t just about surviving.  Through their struggle and hard work they connect with nature and find their own purpose, their loves, and their deepest self. They proclaim that they have found their peace with the land. They notice how important each morsel of food and each drop of water is for their body. They pause, breathe, and take in beauty. They say thank you.  It makes me cry. 

This Sunday I preached about Jesus walking on the water and Peter sinking into the depths until Jesus takes his hand.  Peter was eager to get beside Jesus. He didn’t realize that Jesus was already with him and physically drawing near.  Jesus didn’t stop the storm on the water when Peter called to him.  Jesus didn’t make it any easier for Peter to walk on the water. Instead, Peter gets a lesson in drown proofing.  

Remember learning that?  Let out all your breath. Sink, let your arms rise up keeping your body horizontal, touch bottom, push off with your feet, break the surface, breathe, repeat.  This uses a lot less energy than treading water, floating or swimming.  We must remember the power of the water, have respect for nature and trust our amazing bodies.

Staying calm, taking steps to survive, recalling reasons to keep existing (love, truth, learning, helping, healing), biding the time, quelling the fear – this, THIS is how Jesus accompanies us through the worst storms.

Jesus is always moving toward us, staying with us through everything. When we are afraid, Jesus takes hold of us and helps us to drown proof.

It’s hard to trust in creation’s unity – the circular motion of God, the tangible world, and our souls.  Camping, forest bathing, hiking, communing with the creatures and the stuff of the natural world help us to re-center and remember that God is all in all.  Humanity needs to hone drown proofing skills.  It’s how we keep the strength of our faith.  We are never alone.  With God’s help, we will find a way forward in a world so full of hurt and fear.

But when [Peter] saw the wind, he was afraid 
and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!”
31 Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him.

Matthew 14:30-31 NIV

Dispirited Deliberation. Faith & Depression

I was out shopping for yarn the other day (it was July 20th – I’m crocheting my first dress), and my daughter took the picture you see above.  It’s JULY.  I’m just not prepared to shift to Halloween. 

In Canada, we celebrate Thanksgiving first.  I’m not even ready to think about the Fall holidays. Seeing this had a hugely negative impact on my day, my mood, and my view of the world.  What is wrong with people?  I sound like Charlie Brown (I often feel like him, too).  All this commercialization, this rush to start the party early, leaves little room to appreciate the liminal space, the time between the now and the not yet.

Please take a second to breathe. Inhale, 2,3,4,5. Hold 2,3,4,5. Exhale 2,3,4,5. Notice your breath, your beating heart, each muscle, tendon, and joint.  Breathe in again. Feel the rush of newly oxygenated blood pulse through your veins.

THIS, THIS IS our personal miracle. Every breath depends on the mechanics of our body, intricately laced together and given life by the energy of our great SOURCE.  For me, this translates into GOD.

In church today, I preached on Jesus’ parable about wheat and weeds growing together, treated EQUALLY, only to be separated by the owner of the field at the harvest.  We each have a tangled up bunch of weeds and fruit in our hearts.  On the last day, all that causes sin in the world and inside of us will be burned away as we come into the full GOODNESS intended for us.  

Waiting sucks.

I’m prone to depression and I’ve had a hard week.  Smiling on the outside.  Dispirited within.  Preaching victory. Living in torment.

How do you suppose we can be both Spirit-filled and dispirited?  If God is dwelling in me, why am I so miserable? It doesn’t make sense. Suffering doesn’t make sense.  I know my suffering pales in the face of the war, disaster, and fatal prognosis endured by others. But I’m a long-suffering woman. That’s what I’ve concluded, and I come from a long line of the same.

Long suffering has changed what I believe about God. God makes me extremely frustrated.

The hope I’m supposed to glory in just isn’t realized fast enough. Why must we ENDURE life rather than LIVE it with abundant blessing?

Have you heard of Job? (J-oh-b).  He’s a Biblical Old Testament Prophet who could write the book on enduring pain. In a very short time, he lost everything. His 10 children were suddenly killed.  All of his livestock was also killed. Then, yup, all of his servants were killed. At the same time, he lost his wealth, his health (he was covered in boils), and the support of his grieving wife. His friends blamed him for his suffering. “You must’ve really made God angry. Sucks to be you, man, ” they said.

Like his friends, Job thought that all suffering was divine punishment for sin. Job hadn’t sinned – but boy did he suffer – not for punishment, but simply because pain is in the human experience.

Why the *!#*!#! doesn’t God fix this?  God’s wisdom is far beyond mine. Like Job, I can make the choice to trust God and draw strength from that divine spark in my heart.  I can choose to persevere. I’m a stubborn one.  I will continue to voice my disapproval of the vacuous gods of consumerism.  

Yup. I am despondent, I’m melancholy.  God didn’t defend the reality of pain or explain why it remains in the order of things. God only tells Job to have faith. Be patient, live, love, and leave the rest to the divine.

Deep breath. 2,3,4 5

Good grief, Is this enough?

God, I hope so.

“And now my soul is poured out within me;
    days of affliction have taken hold of me. The night racks my bones,
    and the pain that gnaws me takes no rest.  My inward parts are in turmoil and are never still;
    days of affliction come to meet me. I go about in sunless gloom;
    I stand up in the assembly and cry for help. My lyre is turned to mourning and my pipe to the voice of those who weep.

Job 30:16-17, 27-28, 31 NRSV

“Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.” 

Job 13:15

Frolicking Faith (paired with Depression)

“Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” 

Philippians 4:8

I woke up this morning with a heavy head. It didn’t take long for the familiar gnawing to start in my gut and radiate to behind my eyes where tears sit at the ready.  I want to eat, eat, eat, (I’m eating right now – but I’m not hungry), and I just can’t DO the THINGS. If I have to see anyone today, they won’t know that I’m stuck in this cloud again. I should’ve been an actress because man, am I GOOD.

There is comfort to be found, if not in my lived moment, then in scripture. I think, in my young adulthood, the big draw to ministry was the realization of the Spirit’s indwelling in me and a desire to help relieve suffering. As a person who lives with borderline personality disorder, I fix myself on God’s unchangeable love. I do not need to fear abandonment (even though I do) because God will never leave me alone.  We all carry a divine spark. Knowing this brings relief, even if only at a cerebral level – it’s a good starting place.

I feel low today. St. Paul wrote his letter (quoted above) to the church in Philippi while he was in PRISON. Certainly he was in an uncomfortable place. Somehow he rejoiced ANYWAY.  His words remind us that reflecting on the good things, being thankful in each moment – whether marred by clouds or brightly lit – is to live out the incarnation of Christ.  

From my experience with depression I know that sometimes remembering the happy yesterdays can provide at least an iota, a small flicker of hope. Things won’t always be like this. THINGS WON’T ALWAYS BE LIKE THIS!

Yesterday was Sunday. It was a GOOD day.  In the middle of leading church, a childhood song popped into my mind.  It worked with my sermon about Jesus’ parable of the sower from Matthew’s account. Can you imagine God sowing seeds like a jolly farmer? God is like the sower who uses a ridiculous method to scatter seeds. There’s God, frolicking along, not worried about what kind of terrain on which the abundance of seed land. Imagine Oprah Winfrey and her joyfully anticipated giveaways – “Seeds for you, and seeds for you, and seeds for EVERYBODY!”  There goes God, frolicking along.

Anyway, the song in my head seemed appropriate. 

“Everyday, lambs at play,  in the fields where lilies grow.

 Frisk about, in and out, they are  happy, so!

Jesus’ little lambs are we, and he loves us, you and me. 

As we share in his care, we will happy be.”

Frolicking lambs across fields of plenty. That’s God’s picture of us. We mustn’t forget how it feels to frolic.

My depressed mind is clinging to the wealth of blessings from yesterday. Congregants indulged my need to sing said song.  I held a baby at coffee time, unbidden. He was placed in my lap. Bare toes, soft hair, that milky smell. That alone made the day a winner.

I was invited out to lunch with a couple of matriarch types and another ‘youngster’ like me. A lady in her 90ies DROVE us to a fairly new local restaurant I hadn’t been to yet.  The staff were lovely. The ladies at my table knew EVERYONE there and anyone more that entered. They laughed and shared their secrets with me (I think they were confessions). The trust, the fun loving, and the community felt like a good frolic.  We NEED each other. God is so, so good.

This bout of depression may last a while. By God’s grace, I’ll SURVIVE. I’m grateful for the ability to pull goodness into the deep pit. It will mingle with my Godspark and keep me company until I rise up again.

12 I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound. Everywhere and in all things I have learned both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. 13 I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

Philippians 4:12-13

Bop, Shoo Bop

What do you think gets better with age?

An earnest and rare charismatic Lutheran friend made us teach ‘Jesus is my rock’ to our young cabin group children at Church Camp. It was so long ago I can’t really remember the whole song. I AM Lutheran too. As far as I know, this isn’t a Lutheran song. Gosh, I hated singing this. It had ACTIONS 😬 A teenager’s dream.

“Jesus is my rock and he rolls my blues away. Bop shoo Bop, shoo Bop, Woo…”

HATED IT.  Yet, this is what came to mind with today’s prompt. When I look back on the life I’ve experienced so far, it’s easy to pick out the progression of my faith. FAITH gets better with age.  That stupid song is true.  Jesus is my best strength and my best solace in this world.

I wrote about mystic Julian of Norwich in a previous post. A friend sent me a lovely article today that reflects Julian’s perception of the ‘oneness’ of God’s creation.  When we are ‘oneing’ we are rediscovering the intrinsic love of God in all people and all creation.  I think I am inching closer to this concept every day. I desire to engage in ‘oneing’. In many faith groups, the acceptance of human goodness and unity is a long, chased after and continual goal.

What gets better with age?  I wanna say shoes, cheese, and stories. But shoes and cheese have little to do with faith – unless we stretch them into metaphors for learning about each other’s plight (walk a mile in my shoes) or perhaps the journey to oneness.  Cheese, the manna of my life, nourishes my body with creation’s goodness – but I have a real PROBLEM with SHARING it.

Stories are different. Our faith is based on stories that were important enough to first pass on orally and then captured, hand written on parchment. Faith Stories teach us who we are and WHOSE we are. (I’m talking about GOD, in case you didn’t catch that)

These stories portray the most gorgeous aspects of humanity: Kindness, empathy, acceptance,  and love.  Also, the stories don’t leave out the ugliest bits of us: envy, greed, and hatefulness. Stories of faith keep it real and relevant.

Faith ages well. With time, we experience the hills and valleys and those DAMN ROCKS that only JESUS can roll away! We become more aware of ourselves, others, creation, and our place in the order of galaxies and cosmos.  We become more humble and gentle. Social justice is our natural prerogative.

‘Oneing’ with the world looks more and more promising with each passing day. The gift of faith grows from within us. Our personal divine indwelling, our soul, our Godspark, responds to the Godspark in others. Day by day, blessed assurance until our precious Lord takes us home. 

‘Jesus is my rock and he rolls my blues away. Bop, shoo bop, shoo bop, whoo..” Can I hear an AMEN?