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Choosing Thanks

1/12/2011

The grumpies his this afternoon between 3 and 4. I'm not exactly sure why, although it may have something to do with this (annoying) diet that I'm on right now in an attempt to get rid of some low-lying yeast and some parasites which affect my immune system. I'm pretty sure that the nutritionist I'm seeing is giving me good advice, so I'm willing to go with it, even though I look longingly at the fruit and whole wheat, oats and corn that are not making it to my plate for the time being.

The funk didn't cause any harm to my husband who was around the house, for which I'm glad, but it still wasn't fun being me. Thankfully I had a moment of clarity where I rememberd that I could actually do something about my attitude. Yesterday at lunch one of my friends mentioned that she's starting and ending her days with a "sacrifice of praise." It doesn't matter how she feels at the moment, or what's happening in her life, she makes a list of all the things she's thankful for and offers them up to God.

Psalm 50 ends with this wonderful verse: "He who sacrifices thank offerings honors me, and he prepares the way so that I may show him the salvation of God." (Psalm 50:23). It's like God is telling us that making the choice to be thankful, to speak out his goodness, to smile and remember is the right way to live as His children. Not only is it right and honoring, but It also opens up the channel for grace to pour into our lives. It's like opening a valve to fresh water, or a window to the afternoon sun so that what's freely available (and able to "salve" us) is able to find a way in.

So I'm thankful for all the food that I CAN eat (kale sauteed in olive oil with garlic salt is YUMMY), and thankful for health providers who can diagnose stuff that keeps us from being as healthy as we can be. Thankful for a husband who often comes home with groceries (I know I'm blessed!) and thankful for friends who remind me of the way to live in God's goodness.

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Who knows?

1/11/2011

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I'm getting ready for the return trip to Florida by compiling a stack of books. Dan gave me the complete novels of Jane Austen which I'm anticipating diving into and we have some books on CD for the car ride, including a Learning Company series on American Literature.

I'm looking forward to reading again, especially literature and poetry. Lately I've been reading a lot of nonfiction, which has been amazingly helpful as I've tried to think through a world view, and my own theology. But there is nothing like a story to help you either live in an alternate reality, or imagine one.

On Sunday evening, we hosted a gathering with some friends. I call them salons, because it's a fun word, and because we try to have a theme that draws the evening together. The topic of the night was mystics/contemplative writers. The potluck snacks were delicious and conversation was food for the soul. We wandered through St John of the Cross, Meister Eckhart, and some contemporary poetry. One of our friends told the following story:

A Chinese peasant had a single horse. One day, the horse ran away. The neighbors came to commiserate on the bad news. The farmer shrugged his shoulders. "Good new, bad news," he said. "Who can tell?" Several weeks later the horse returned at the head of a herd of wild horses. "Good news!" said the neighbors. The man held out his hands and replied, "Good news, bad news. Who can tell?" A few weeks passed and one day the man's son was breaking in one of the wild horses when he fell and fractured his leg. Once again the neighbors came over. "Bad news," they opined. The farmer answered as before. "Good news, bad news. Who can tell?" It wasn't more than a week later when the emperor and his general rode into town to conscript all the eligible young men for an upcoming battle, The son with the fractured leg was allowed to stay home. Certainly this was good news! But once again the father said, "Good news, bad news, who can tell?"

For someone who loves to analyze, this story presents me (as it presented my friend) with an alternative way to view life. More open, more humble, slower to judge or presume to know. It reminds me that navigating the space between knowing and not knowing is the challenge of where I am right now.

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A Sabbath Psalm

1/9/2011

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Psalm 131

A song of ascents. Of David.

My heart is not proud, O Lord,
my eyes are not haughty;
I do not concern myself with great matters
or things too wonderful for me.
But I have stilled and quieted my soul;
like a weaned child with its mother,
like a weaned child is my soul within me.

O Israel, put your hope in the Lord
both now and forevermore.

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Keeping my shoulders down...

1/8/2011

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Last summer I realized that stretching was a great way to deal with accumulated stress. So this morning when I woke up a bit achy, I popped in a video and leaned into some focused relaxation. As I moved through the exercises, I became increasingly aware that the instructor's admonitions to continue to breathe, stop tensing the shoulders and enjoy the stretches were aimed directly at me. Stretching shouldn't be such hard work!

My daughter is currently reading a book by John Ortberg entitled "The Me I Want to Be." One of the chapters, entitled "Try Softer," was on my mind while I was exercising this morning. Ortberg says that we often live our Christian lives on the principle of trying harder. But that may be what dooms our endeavours to become Christlike. Maybe we should try softer instead. "Trying softer means focusing more on God's goodness than our efforts. It means being more relaxed and less self conscious. Less pressured".

Too much intentionality may be counterproductive. Bearing down is exactly the wrong direction that I need to go when I'm trying to elongate my tightened muscles and tendons. I wonder if the same thing is true with pursuing peace. Maybe I shouldn't try so hard. Maybe it's more about releasing, more about trusting and less about setting a new goal.

Well, the good news is that Dan and I have decided, after returning from Florida on Thursday, to head back south for a few more weeks. My soul needs some more time to rest. But more than that, I need a chance to reboot. After years of making myself a project, it's time to see what my soul has become, to sit back and see what bubbles up from my heart. It's good to be intentional; to focus on spiritual practices, on skills and habits. But at some point it's time to free yourself from your own inner coach and head out to play for the sheer joy of being in the game.

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Just some fun, please

1/6/2011

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My little brain has been doing too much theology and philosophy lately. In case some of you are feeling a need for some lighter fare, I heartily concur! So here's a picture of some old fashioned creativity that my daughter snapped while we were out on a late afternoon walk, trying to keep intentional conversations to a minimum. Sanibel Island, Fl, is known for its prolific shells, strewn so lavishly on the beach it can make walking barefoot a challenge!

I hope to add some variety to the blog in the next weeks, so look forward to more on creative endeavors, arts, movies, literature, poetry to join the theological/philosophical musings. And perhaps to add a guest blogger or two. Here's to a fun year ahead!

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Formative Silence

1/5/2011

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The blare of a power washer has chased me from the sunlit patio to the quiet conference room here at Shell Point now that it's finally time to settle down to write. I find it ironic, knowing the topic of this post.

"Soul-making" is a phrase that is appearing in several of the books I'm currently reading. When the soul is sick, or immature, the body and mind can't help but be affected, which makes me wonder if the formation of our souls, our psyche, our spirit, is perhaps the most important task that we have as human beings. My body would like me to make sure I grab all the sun I can while I'm here in Florida. My soul says, please, give us a quiet morning. I am learning to trust that if I start with my soul, the rest of the voices in my inner community will get all that they need to thrive.

The following poem by Wendell Berry gives a hint on the importance of silence in this inner formation. The poem is included in a collection entitled "Given" and was received as a gift from my sister-in-law this Christmas. The picture at top of the post is that of a bellwort, a woodland flower that blooms in early spring.

Sabbaths 2003
III

Ask the world to reveal its quietude-
not the silence of machines when they are still,
but the true quiet by which birdsongs,
trees, bellworts, snails, clouds, storms
become what they are, and are nothing else.

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Clearing the airwaves

1/4/2011

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I realized after I finished yesterday's post that I should have mentioned Dan's newest book, Playa Perdida (click here) as a great read that touches on some of these ideas of work and rest. The novel chronicles the journey of Gray Albright, a burned out pastor who leaves the mind-numbing pressures of a northern US congregation for the warm and whimsical grace of a church plant in Costa Rica. You'll enjoy Dan's great sense of humor and gentle reminders that God desires our good, and that gifts come in unexpected packages.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _

One of the dangers of including personal journeys in your blog is that often the very thing you're blogging about rears its cheery head and gives you a nip on the backside. I hadn't even hit the "publish" button at the top of my screen yesterday when I noticed that I'd begun to lose it - peace, that is. The airwaves got scrambled with concerns about time commitments, which led to anxiety (so low-level it almost slipped under the radar) and I brought the static into my subsequent conversations. This led to confusion, misunderstanding and a whole lot of wasted time.

However, it did help to confirm my working thesis that peace is important to maintain if you want to keep in step with the guidance of the Spirit. Disruptions to our peace keep us from being able to sense where the energy of God is leading. Recently I've been using the phrase "What wants to happen" as a fresh way of speaking of being led by the Spirit. Though I have a mental idea of what I think might be good, I am learning to submit my conscious plans to the internal nudge of the Spirit. I'm assuming that God is working through my thoughts, my desires, my intuitions and feelings as well as the people around me to guide me into the path for the day. (One way of living into the phrase "Your Kingdom come, Your will be done.)

It's easy for the airwaves to become muddled, especially if our radar has been tuned to pick up other people's feelings and responses, the "you shoulds" of the multiple voices in our heads, or the expectations of the culture in which we're steeped. To enter a watchful stillness, I think it's necessary to lean into the deep love of God. This love, in which Paul reminds us we are "rooted and grounded" (Eph 3:18) is the only thing strong enough to allow us to stand down from defcon 3 or 5 and enter peace.

It's still a challenge to believe that all is well, (that all will be well) that God's love is deep enough to hold me. Surely I'll make mistakes, incur other's displeasure, ruin expectations that are beyond repair. But that's not true. Either God's love is enough for the long haul, or it's not worth my allegiance. However, it's also true that changing my mindset and moving my focus is difficult, and because of that I need the grace of God to even begin. But God is willing and eager to extend that grace, as Paul reminds us with his wonderful prayer for the Ephesians.

"And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God." (Ephesians 3:14-19)

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Working Vacations

1/3/2011

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Dan and I are currently extending our holiday break in Ft Myers, FL. We're experimenting with the idea of adding time south of the border as a way of making peace with living in Pennsylvania. I grew up in the state, so the cold winters aren't anything new, but Dan spent a chunk of time in the Bahamas, and his blood has never thickened (thinned?) enough to make winter bearable. Subbing a few 70 degree days in January for ice and snow the rest of the winter seemed like a good strategy. While here, we're both focusing on writing, which makes this not only our first attempt at "snowbirding" but also our first working vacation.

A working vacation can mean the worst of both worlds, resenting work because you're not relaxing, or not able to rest because the email still needs to be answered. (I've heard of people who go to awesome locations for conferences and never even make it out of the hotel!) But I've been wondering if this combination can't be a helpful way to view life. God is both at rest (Heb 4:10) and at work (John 5:17) which seems to imply that we could manage this seemingly paradoxical way of navigating our days. Perhaps this is what Jesus is getting at when he talks about easy yokes instead of heavy burdens in Matthew 11:29. If we are able to start from rest, if we are able to embrace the peace that comes from God, then our "work" enters the flow of the Spirit, empowered and directed by the love of God.

Having a vacation mindset about life makes me less anxious, allows me to breathe. Choosing to live in rest expands my soul and my ability to continue with the next task in a spirit of grace. The "working" vacation part helps when the things that are on my docket aren't those I'm particularly pleased about. This isn't just about me, I remind myself. I don't keep peace by removing myself from the good that God is calling me to do. And so I need to stay alert, stay open to acting out of love toward those around me.

It's true. God is here; His Spirit is both at rest and at work-around me, in me, through me. Wherever I happen to be...

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Possibilities

1/1/2011

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A fresh year beckons, offering unending possibilites. Not much is sure, but there is a peaceful calm as I wait for what's next.

Over the past few years, the phrase "and what we will become has not yet been revealed" has been slipping in and out of my consciousness. Yesterday while I was sitting at the breakfast table, I leaned into this idea of waiting. This poem starts with the experience of pregnancy and then moves to the universal experience of living in the season of expectancy.

Expectant

And what we will become has not yet been revealed.
I John 3:2

Three times before, three times the nine,
The ancient rite enveloped me.
I grew into discomfort while
I nursed the joy. I hummed with hope-
Embraced anticipation’s end-
And fixed my sights on flesh-shared life,
The labor’s culminating love.

But this gestation is unknown;
When did conception’s seed take root?
I’m discomfited by the silence,
Feel the lack of outward change.
I don’t know what I’m looking for.
Have the thrusting pains begun?
And what is waiting to emerge,
To gasp and breathe the unrestricted air?

The revelation is withheld,
I have no clarity of thought.
Only the whispered oracles
In languages that spirit comprehends.
My mind is in the dark-the eye
Has closed in rest, has learned to trust,
Is cradled now in deep, familiar,
Mystery of sacred womb.

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Forward>>

Choosing Thanks

Who knows?

A Sabbath Psalm

Keeping my shoulders down...

Just some fun, please

Formative Silence

Clearing the airwaves

Working Vacations

Possibilities

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