No scripture today, just an epiphany.
I have been feeling out of touch with the Spirit lately, so yesterday morning I had some time to sit quietly after my morning meditation and do some Bible reading, but it was flat, felt disconnected, no sense of the veil lifting for a peek at Mystery. Maybe it's because I am still in the middle of the Holiness Code in Numbers, which is a pretty sure cure for insomnia, but it felt like something else was in the way. So I utilized a tool which Julia Cameron writes about in The Artist's Way called "Morning Pages". This involves writing 3 or more pages first thing in the morning without thinking about it, just writing as fast as I can write whatever comes into my mind. This usually connects me with whatever is going on inside, whatever might be blocking me or keeping me stuck.
So I wrote some pages, and I connected with what was really going on for me in all its emotional messiness and unpleasantness. I am having feelings of stuckness and depression; of anger, mostly at myself for not handling things better; of hopelessness and despair; of self-loathing and judgment about my own inadequacies and failures; of enmeshment and feeling sucked back into the swamp: icky, yucky feelings that I hate feeling and will find about 100 ways to distract myself from. The thing is, by the time I was finished writing, I was feeling connected and engaged, galvanized is one word I used, energized, full of the Spirit, and then I can hear God's voice in the Silence, I can feel the urgings of the Spirit pushing me forward.
God meets me where I AM, but I have to be there, because that's where God dwells, in the moment as it truly is, not in the moment as I wish it were, or as I'm pretending it to be, as in, "I'm fine, everything's all right." A friend used the phrase "beside myself", and I never really saw it before in such a palpable way, but it really captures the essence of how I experienced that moment. If I am "beside myself" (or above or outside or whatever), I am not really connected to who and what I am IN THIS MOMENT. If I shut the door to the truth then I shut the door to God, too; God is still there, but I have closed off my access to God, shut God out when I cut myself off from what's really going on for me, that is, who I really am in any given moment. What's required is to stop and be, to remake those connections, to allow myself to experience the fullness of who I am including all the sticky, icky, unpleasant, vulnerable, shame-filled parts and places in me. If I do that, if I accept all that unpleasant and unhappy humanness of me, the surprising news is that's where I find God, where I perhaps might least expect it.
Prayer: Dear God, Thank you for the insight of your Divine Presence and for Your full acceptance of who I am. You accept me more than I accept myself! Help me stay connected to that flawed human side of me and to recognize it in others, so that I may touch them with Your love and acceptance as You have touched me. Amen.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Make yourselves holy
Leviticus 11:44 Make yourselves holy for I am holy.
This seems such a good subject for Lent: what does it mean to be holy? The holiness code, found in Leviticus, is a catalog of all the things that are holy and unholy, from seafood and certain animals to insects to skin diseases and sexual behaviors. The implication is that some things, some actions, have an inherent holiness to them. But that doesn't seem to apply to people, because whether they are holy or profane depends, in Leviticus, on what they do. So there is also a list of all the things that people are to do to be holy, including washing and cleaning themselves, anointing with oil and making all kinds of sacrifices. Most of these are things we no longer observe.
God calls us to be holy, and these Old Testament codes are the path of the Law, one way to becoming holy. Holy means wholeness and also often refers to being set apart. God set apart the children of Israel from the other nations to be a holy people unto God, God's chosen; all the codes that are listed are some of the ways that the early Israelites kept themselves apart from the peoples around them. God wants us all to be set apart for God in some way. We do that with our rituals and traditions, like those illustrated here. Reading scripture, setting aside this time to write about it, these are acts of setting apart. Setting apart time in my day, days in my week, seasons in my year to especially attend to the things of God are also acts which support holiness; Sabbath time is one such practice, as are the disciplines of the season of Lent. These things become holy because we as a community set them apart, and because I create the space for them in my life, space when I am more open to God's presence and movement in my life, when I can listen without distraction to God's call. When that is planted in me, when it becomes part of my daily rhythms, I think it does become infectious like some of the skin diseases described by the Priestly writer here. It infects those I meet, and infects the world in ways I don't even know about, but ultimately that is the reason for holiness: to set us apart so that we might draw others to God.
Prayer: Dear God, I try to be faithful with my time and my intentions. Let me not be concerned with the outcomes--that is Your work. Let me be faithful and let that be enough. Amen.
This seems such a good subject for Lent: what does it mean to be holy? The holiness code, found in Leviticus, is a catalog of all the things that are holy and unholy, from seafood and certain animals to insects to skin diseases and sexual behaviors. The implication is that some things, some actions, have an inherent holiness to them. But that doesn't seem to apply to people, because whether they are holy or profane depends, in Leviticus, on what they do. So there is also a list of all the things that people are to do to be holy, including washing and cleaning themselves, anointing with oil and making all kinds of sacrifices. Most of these are things we no longer observe.
God calls us to be holy, and these Old Testament codes are the path of the Law, one way to becoming holy. Holy means wholeness and also often refers to being set apart. God set apart the children of Israel from the other nations to be a holy people unto God, God's chosen; all the codes that are listed are some of the ways that the early Israelites kept themselves apart from the peoples around them. God wants us all to be set apart for God in some way. We do that with our rituals and traditions, like those illustrated here. Reading scripture, setting aside this time to write about it, these are acts of setting apart. Setting apart time in my day, days in my week, seasons in my year to especially attend to the things of God are also acts which support holiness; Sabbath time is one such practice, as are the disciplines of the season of Lent. These things become holy because we as a community set them apart, and because I create the space for them in my life, space when I am more open to God's presence and movement in my life, when I can listen without distraction to God's call. When that is planted in me, when it becomes part of my daily rhythms, I think it does become infectious like some of the skin diseases described by the Priestly writer here. It infects those I meet, and infects the world in ways I don't even know about, but ultimately that is the reason for holiness: to set us apart so that we might draw others to God.
Prayer: Dear God, I try to be faithful with my time and my intentions. Let me not be concerned with the outcomes--that is Your work. Let me be faithful and let that be enough. Amen.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
God as Mystery
Judith 8:14 You cannot plumb the depths of the human heart or understand the workings of the human mind; how do you expect to search out God who made all these things and find out his mind or comprehend his thought?
In my quest to read the Bible through "in order" I have decided to include the Apocryphal books, which are canonical in the Jewish and Catholic traditions, but not in most Protestant traditions. We'll see how I do once the main Old Testament books are completed; that is, how long I am willing to delay my entry into the New Testament. So here I am at Judith, the story of a woman who defeats the army of Holofernes, who is holding siege to her town in Judah. Her wisdom is in evidence in this statement she makes to the leaders, who have made a rash promise to the people that they will surrender if God does not come to their rescue within five days. She takes matters into her own hands.
She is scolding them here for putting God to the test; what do you know of God's ways, she asks them. If human beings are a mystery -- and despite many advances in the area of psychology, I think it is fair to say that ultimately they remain very mysterious -- how much more so is God, the Creator of all that is. If he is the potter and we are the clay, as Jeremiah tells us, how can we even begin to understand what God is and what God is about? I often think this is a factor that is missing in our public conversations about God and religion these days. It seems to me that sureness is an enemy to entering God's presence and submitting to God's workings.
I make a distinction between this sureness, which is a sense of factual knowledge of God, and the conviction held by all people of faith. A conviction is a heartfelt truth informed by spiritual knowing, but is not a fact in that sense. It pretends no understanding of God, or who or what God is, simply the conviction of faith that something (or no thing) called God exists and is worthy of our honor and praise. That God's ways are far beyond human ways and are ultimately unknowable to us is implicit in that humbling awareness of having been touched by God. This is knowledge, but it is of an entirely different kind than that espoused by people who are convinced that God is seeking this or that outcome, that particular words of scripture mean one specific thing. To me is like saying, "I know what God is thinking." God as Mystery humbles us all before It. "Knowing" what God is thinking exalts our knowledge to be equal to that of God.
Perhaps what's missing in these discourses is humility, and maybe that's the point. If God can be figured out, that makes me the clever one, not God. Then I have the power. Humility reminds me of my true position in God's Creation: one humble element looking to find my proper place.
Prayer: Dear God, You show me humility in both my spiritual and professional lives. Show me when arrogance threatens my relationship to truth, and let humility in the face of life's mystery always inform my teaching and reaching out to others, so that they will not be impressed by my knowledge, but by Your Presence. Amen
In my quest to read the Bible through "in order" I have decided to include the Apocryphal books, which are canonical in the Jewish and Catholic traditions, but not in most Protestant traditions. We'll see how I do once the main Old Testament books are completed; that is, how long I am willing to delay my entry into the New Testament. So here I am at Judith, the story of a woman who defeats the army of Holofernes, who is holding siege to her town in Judah. Her wisdom is in evidence in this statement she makes to the leaders, who have made a rash promise to the people that they will surrender if God does not come to their rescue within five days. She takes matters into her own hands.
She is scolding them here for putting God to the test; what do you know of God's ways, she asks them. If human beings are a mystery -- and despite many advances in the area of psychology, I think it is fair to say that ultimately they remain very mysterious -- how much more so is God, the Creator of all that is. If he is the potter and we are the clay, as Jeremiah tells us, how can we even begin to understand what God is and what God is about? I often think this is a factor that is missing in our public conversations about God and religion these days. It seems to me that sureness is an enemy to entering God's presence and submitting to God's workings.
I make a distinction between this sureness, which is a sense of factual knowledge of God, and the conviction held by all people of faith. A conviction is a heartfelt truth informed by spiritual knowing, but is not a fact in that sense. It pretends no understanding of God, or who or what God is, simply the conviction of faith that something (or no thing) called God exists and is worthy of our honor and praise. That God's ways are far beyond human ways and are ultimately unknowable to us is implicit in that humbling awareness of having been touched by God. This is knowledge, but it is of an entirely different kind than that espoused by people who are convinced that God is seeking this or that outcome, that particular words of scripture mean one specific thing. To me is like saying, "I know what God is thinking." God as Mystery humbles us all before It. "Knowing" what God is thinking exalts our knowledge to be equal to that of God.
Perhaps what's missing in these discourses is humility, and maybe that's the point. If God can be figured out, that makes me the clever one, not God. Then I have the power. Humility reminds me of my true position in God's Creation: one humble element looking to find my proper place.
Prayer: Dear God, You show me humility in both my spiritual and professional lives. Show me when arrogance threatens my relationship to truth, and let humility in the face of life's mystery always inform my teaching and reaching out to others, so that they will not be impressed by my knowledge, but by Your Presence. Amen
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
A little mercy
Tobit 6:2 and the dog came out with him and went along with them.
In my quest to read the Bible approximately in the order that scholars say the books were written, I am including books that in my tradition we call the "Apocrypha". They are books considered sacred and canonical by the Jewish and Catholic traditions, but not my own. In the process, I have stumbled on the delightful book of Tobit, which is a story about righteous people encountering adversity; because they continue walking in God's ways, their difficulties are overcome. Tobit's son Tobias is heading off on a journey, and this charming detail is included. The dog went with him, presumably to keep him company in the way only dogs can. I don't know if we ever hear of the dog again, but here he is at the beginning of the journey, a small grace, a little mercy.
I have been going through a period of challenge. It's nothing big, no catastrophes or anything, but after a period where everything seemed to fall into place, it seems there is one little irritation, frustration, problem after another. If I believed in astrology, I'd say my planets were in retrograde. And I have been challenged to stay present without lapsing into depression or anxiety. So, there I am, yesterday, after a very busy day with some new challenges, arriving early for my dentist appointment. This means I have time to meditate, and I enter the parking lot which tells me I can post three hours in the meters, which are active 24 hours a day. So I pull into a spot, figure I'll need 2+ hours, get my quarters ready and proceed to empty them into the meter. Then two quarters in a row don't advance the meter past an hour. Huh? I look down the row up and down, and at the very end, I see a sign obscured by branches that says "1 Hour Parking" for the row that I am in. So, I've used up 2 quarters that won't buy me time, AND I'm going to have to move to another spot after my meditation/prayer, and use a bunch more quarters, even though my time here won't be up. "Shit!" I say aloud in my frustration. First, some nice gentleman in the next row asks if I need quarters, but I tell him, no, I just didn't realize this spot was only 1 Hour Parking.
OK. Time to sit in silence in my car. I am all stirred up with my frustration, and I start my meditation agitated. Then I draw on the wisdom of Centering Prayer. Just be present, I say to myself. Accept this. It's quarters, it's nothing, just accept that it happened, and be present. Accept that I am frustrated, that I can't accept this at this moment. Accept that this stuff happens. Accept that I made a mistake. I think this is the hardest piece. I should have looked more carefully, I should have seen that sign -- and this is coupled with self-justification: they should have made the sign clearer and less obscure, they should have let you know right at the beginning of the line, the implication being it's their fault!
And then it occurred to me. I have been coming through a time where I have felt God's grace everywhere. I have been in a place of trusting the next step, not over-worrying or over-managing, but knowing that I would be ready for whatever I had signed up for. With all my juggling, things seemed to fall into place. And each time something like that happened, it confirmed my sense that I was walking in faith with God. But who says that I am only walking in faith when things go well, when they turn out right effortlessly? Where does this idea come from (and keep coming back from) that life should be free of frustration and difficulty? That a walk with faith gives you some kind of free pass for the kind of daily "small stuff" nonsense that is just part of being a human being? So, I thought, that's it, I am walking in faith, in faith even when it's not so visible, even when I feel like I am running up against obstacles (small ones to be sure) at every turn. With that idea came lightness and freedom, and I passed the rest of my meditation in peace and acceptance.
So, when I finished my meditation, I again gathered up my quarters, pulled out into the lane and moved to another space, one with a 3 hour window. And as I parked my car, and looked at the meter I saw: it had 2 hours and 5 minutes on it, more than enough for my dentist appointment. And my heart was filled with thanks and peace. A little grace that turned my day around, a little reminder that God's presence is everywhere we look. Just like Tobias's little dog who runs out to be with him.
Prayer: Dear God, My mind knows that You are with me wherever I go, whatever I do, whatever is happening, no matter how far away You may feel. Open the eyes of my heart that I may see You in all things, challenges as well as strengths, difficulties as well as times when life goes smoothly, so that I may draw on the power of Your Presence, and walk with You in faith no matter what life brings. Amen.
In my quest to read the Bible approximately in the order that scholars say the books were written, I am including books that in my tradition we call the "Apocrypha". They are books considered sacred and canonical by the Jewish and Catholic traditions, but not my own. In the process, I have stumbled on the delightful book of Tobit, which is a story about righteous people encountering adversity; because they continue walking in God's ways, their difficulties are overcome. Tobit's son Tobias is heading off on a journey, and this charming detail is included. The dog went with him, presumably to keep him company in the way only dogs can. I don't know if we ever hear of the dog again, but here he is at the beginning of the journey, a small grace, a little mercy.
I have been going through a period of challenge. It's nothing big, no catastrophes or anything, but after a period where everything seemed to fall into place, it seems there is one little irritation, frustration, problem after another. If I believed in astrology, I'd say my planets were in retrograde. And I have been challenged to stay present without lapsing into depression or anxiety. So, there I am, yesterday, after a very busy day with some new challenges, arriving early for my dentist appointment. This means I have time to meditate, and I enter the parking lot which tells me I can post three hours in the meters, which are active 24 hours a day. So I pull into a spot, figure I'll need 2+ hours, get my quarters ready and proceed to empty them into the meter. Then two quarters in a row don't advance the meter past an hour. Huh? I look down the row up and down, and at the very end, I see a sign obscured by branches that says "1 Hour Parking" for the row that I am in. So, I've used up 2 quarters that won't buy me time, AND I'm going to have to move to another spot after my meditation/prayer, and use a bunch more quarters, even though my time here won't be up. "Shit!" I say aloud in my frustration. First, some nice gentleman in the next row asks if I need quarters, but I tell him, no, I just didn't realize this spot was only 1 Hour Parking.
OK. Time to sit in silence in my car. I am all stirred up with my frustration, and I start my meditation agitated. Then I draw on the wisdom of Centering Prayer. Just be present, I say to myself. Accept this. It's quarters, it's nothing, just accept that it happened, and be present. Accept that I am frustrated, that I can't accept this at this moment. Accept that this stuff happens. Accept that I made a mistake. I think this is the hardest piece. I should have looked more carefully, I should have seen that sign -- and this is coupled with self-justification: they should have made the sign clearer and less obscure, they should have let you know right at the beginning of the line, the implication being it's their fault!
And then it occurred to me. I have been coming through a time where I have felt God's grace everywhere. I have been in a place of trusting the next step, not over-worrying or over-managing, but knowing that I would be ready for whatever I had signed up for. With all my juggling, things seemed to fall into place. And each time something like that happened, it confirmed my sense that I was walking in faith with God. But who says that I am only walking in faith when things go well, when they turn out right effortlessly? Where does this idea come from (and keep coming back from) that life should be free of frustration and difficulty? That a walk with faith gives you some kind of free pass for the kind of daily "small stuff" nonsense that is just part of being a human being? So, I thought, that's it, I am walking in faith, in faith even when it's not so visible, even when I feel like I am running up against obstacles (small ones to be sure) at every turn. With that idea came lightness and freedom, and I passed the rest of my meditation in peace and acceptance.
So, when I finished my meditation, I again gathered up my quarters, pulled out into the lane and moved to another space, one with a 3 hour window. And as I parked my car, and looked at the meter I saw: it had 2 hours and 5 minutes on it, more than enough for my dentist appointment. And my heart was filled with thanks and peace. A little grace that turned my day around, a little reminder that God's presence is everywhere we look. Just like Tobias's little dog who runs out to be with him.
Prayer: Dear God, My mind knows that You are with me wherever I go, whatever I do, whatever is happening, no matter how far away You may feel. Open the eyes of my heart that I may see You in all things, challenges as well as strengths, difficulties as well as times when life goes smoothly, so that I may draw on the power of Your Presence, and walk with You in faith no matter what life brings. Amen.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Yes, we will!
Nehemiah 5:13 Everyone gave a wholehearted, "Yes, we'll do it" and praised God. And the people did what they promised.
Wow. This Nehemiah really has his heart and mind in the right place -- on the things of God -- and yet he is shrewd and wily as a snake. He has come back to Jerusalem, with other exiles of the Babylonian captivity, now taken over by the Persian empire. He inspires the people to rebuild the wall around Jerusalem, in rubble after the long exile, and works right along beside them. When the poor protest against the unfair practices of the nobles and officials who are gouging their fellow Israelites with high interest rates, taking over their lands and selling them into slavery, Nehemiah calls these nobles and officials to account, charging them to lower interest rates, stop seizing lands and selling their fellows into slavery. And they agree, and follow through and actually change their behavior! Enemies try to lure him away, to get him to quit, and he evades their traps. And he doesn't even use the full allowance accorded to him as governor, because he doesn't need it and doesn't want to add to the people's burdens.
All in all, these are some very eery parallels to our own times: the need to rebuild infrastructure, people falling prey to high interest rates and mortgage foreclosures, foreign enemies who continue to want to terrorize us, and most likely this new administration will have plenty of doomsayers who will decry his every move. More important than any of these things, though, will be his ability to call all of us to account, to inspire our participation in his vision of a rebuilt community. We know that Obama is not the Messiah or some other Godlike figure; he is just a human like you and me. So was Nehemiah. We need a Nehemiah to bring all the scattered flocks under one shepherd, to forge the unity of purpose we need in this nation to meet the challenges of this new century. Freezing staff salaries in the face of climbing unemployment may have more symbolic value than actual impact, but it's certainly a step in the right direction.
Prayer: Dear God, I pray that Barack Obama may be the Nehemiah we need. So many are hurting in this country and in the world. We are only as strong as our weakest members. Give our president the power to strengthen us as a community so that nothing can really threaten us. Amen.
Wow. This Nehemiah really has his heart and mind in the right place -- on the things of God -- and yet he is shrewd and wily as a snake. He has come back to Jerusalem, with other exiles of the Babylonian captivity, now taken over by the Persian empire. He inspires the people to rebuild the wall around Jerusalem, in rubble after the long exile, and works right along beside them. When the poor protest against the unfair practices of the nobles and officials who are gouging their fellow Israelites with high interest rates, taking over their lands and selling them into slavery, Nehemiah calls these nobles and officials to account, charging them to lower interest rates, stop seizing lands and selling their fellows into slavery. And they agree, and follow through and actually change their behavior! Enemies try to lure him away, to get him to quit, and he evades their traps. And he doesn't even use the full allowance accorded to him as governor, because he doesn't need it and doesn't want to add to the people's burdens.
All in all, these are some very eery parallels to our own times: the need to rebuild infrastructure, people falling prey to high interest rates and mortgage foreclosures, foreign enemies who continue to want to terrorize us, and most likely this new administration will have plenty of doomsayers who will decry his every move. More important than any of these things, though, will be his ability to call all of us to account, to inspire our participation in his vision of a rebuilt community. We know that Obama is not the Messiah or some other Godlike figure; he is just a human like you and me. So was Nehemiah. We need a Nehemiah to bring all the scattered flocks under one shepherd, to forge the unity of purpose we need in this nation to meet the challenges of this new century. Freezing staff salaries in the face of climbing unemployment may have more symbolic value than actual impact, but it's certainly a step in the right direction.
Prayer: Dear God, I pray that Barack Obama may be the Nehemiah we need. So many are hurting in this country and in the world. We are only as strong as our weakest members. Give our president the power to strengthen us as a community so that nothing can really threaten us. Amen.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Coming Home
Ezra 3:12-13 Many of the older priests, Levites and family heads who had seen the first Temple, when they saw the foundations of this Temple laid wept loudly for joy. People couldn't distinguish the shouting from the weeping.
What does it mean to come home? These Israelites had been in exile in Babylon for over 100 years, and here they were back in Jerusalem, watching the Temple be rebuilt, seeing their life restored. I love that the author notes you couldn't tell the weeping from the shouting. It's all emotional tumult: the joy of return, the pain of all that time away, pain which maybe couldn't even be fully acknowledged until this moment, because to acknowledge it fully would have been to recognize the utter defeat, the despair of being carried off into captivity.
Do we "modern" people have the same sense of home these ancient peoples did? A Jewish friend of mine described a powerful sense of homecoming when she went to Israel -- and I can only imagine what it felt like to Jews emigrating to newly born Israel after the Holocaust, the power of that homecoming. I felt some sense of that when I went to Scotland where my ancestors are from. But I think for me, my sense of my physical home is more malleable, perhaps where I happen to be at any particular time. That powerful sense of belonging which some call home, I experience through my faith, through my relationship with God, who is not confined to any one place.
Still, these days I am experiencing a taste of that physical homecoming. I am clearing my house out of years of accumulated stuff. The backyard, which was inundated and unapproachable for years, is under construction. I can see my walls and walk in my rooms without bumping into things. Relationship changes have led to this new openness, this reclamation project, and since change is fraught I am excited and anxious, joyful and weeping as I find myself coming home.
Prayer: Dear God, I thank you for all the pain and challenges that have led me to this point, and for the new and spacious home that is opening before me. Let it be a place where You dwell in serenity and peace. Amen
What does it mean to come home? These Israelites had been in exile in Babylon for over 100 years, and here they were back in Jerusalem, watching the Temple be rebuilt, seeing their life restored. I love that the author notes you couldn't tell the weeping from the shouting. It's all emotional tumult: the joy of return, the pain of all that time away, pain which maybe couldn't even be fully acknowledged until this moment, because to acknowledge it fully would have been to recognize the utter defeat, the despair of being carried off into captivity.
Do we "modern" people have the same sense of home these ancient peoples did? A Jewish friend of mine described a powerful sense of homecoming when she went to Israel -- and I can only imagine what it felt like to Jews emigrating to newly born Israel after the Holocaust, the power of that homecoming. I felt some sense of that when I went to Scotland where my ancestors are from. But I think for me, my sense of my physical home is more malleable, perhaps where I happen to be at any particular time. That powerful sense of belonging which some call home, I experience through my faith, through my relationship with God, who is not confined to any one place.
Still, these days I am experiencing a taste of that physical homecoming. I am clearing my house out of years of accumulated stuff. The backyard, which was inundated and unapproachable for years, is under construction. I can see my walls and walk in my rooms without bumping into things. Relationship changes have led to this new openness, this reclamation project, and since change is fraught I am excited and anxious, joyful and weeping as I find myself coming home.
Prayer: Dear God, I thank you for all the pain and challenges that have led me to this point, and for the new and spacious home that is opening before me. Let it be a place where You dwell in serenity and peace. Amen
Thursday, January 8, 2009
The unraveling thread of Change
Change! It is so difficult! Even good changes are stressful; that's why getting married is near the top of the list of most stressful events. All I did was get a new computer with an upgraded operating system -- so all my gadgets need to be upgraded too -- and it feels like my world is coming apart. I'm irritable and depressed. Why is this so difficult?
First of all, my routines are shot. My PDA is so old I can't even upgrade it, and it is the one program that I regularly refer to. Now, I've got to get out my old laptop and use it along with the new computer (I know, a plethora of privilege here), instead of just clicking a tab. All of this is strange and uncomfortable. I feel discombobulated. Things don't go smoothly because I'm learning new routines and then I feel stupid because I don't know what I'm doing. Add to this that I've completely reorganized my office to make room for the new computer, and I can't find anything and it's all in some level of chaos. I'm anxious and irritable because I don't feel comfortable yet, and this change thing keeps spreading and I don't know how far it will go. I feel depressed because it all makes me feel like a dimwit and overwhelmed and above all out of control.
So I sat down last night and said, what are the assumptiong I'm operating under? What are the expectations that aren't being met, that is leading to all this emotional distress? Do I think this should all be easy? That I should be able to do it without some level of challenge? Am I supposed to be on top of things, every minute, no matter what? Who said? Where do these notions come from?
Once I stopped and recognized these assumptions, and brought balance to my thinking by reflecting on the tragic and painful difficulties that others on this globe are enduring -- even those in my own city -- I was able to relax and engage in my tasks (like changing the sheets) with some humility and submission, a recognition of my frailty, my humanness. Yes, I moan and whine and complain, just like everyone else.
Spirituality is about living into our humanness, about embracing our faults, our frailty our finiteness, rather than skipping over it, putting on a together face and operating only out of our competence. It's about being present with our falling apart as it is happening. The paradox is that by surrendering to my humanity, by giving into my frailty, by recognizing and accepting my own inadequacy in the face of life's challenges, I may suddenly transcend difficulty and find myself in a blessed space of peace, even as I move through the tasks that irked me just a moment before. That, to me, is the Presence of God.
Prayer: Dear God, Help me to follow this thread of change, wherever it leads, guided by your gracious and invisible hand. Help me be present with each moment so that I don't become overwhelmed but just take one step at a time into Your Gracious Heart. Amen.
First of all, my routines are shot. My PDA is so old I can't even upgrade it, and it is the one program that I regularly refer to. Now, I've got to get out my old laptop and use it along with the new computer (I know, a plethora of privilege here), instead of just clicking a tab. All of this is strange and uncomfortable. I feel discombobulated. Things don't go smoothly because I'm learning new routines and then I feel stupid because I don't know what I'm doing. Add to this that I've completely reorganized my office to make room for the new computer, and I can't find anything and it's all in some level of chaos. I'm anxious and irritable because I don't feel comfortable yet, and this change thing keeps spreading and I don't know how far it will go. I feel depressed because it all makes me feel like a dimwit and overwhelmed and above all out of control.
So I sat down last night and said, what are the assumptiong I'm operating under? What are the expectations that aren't being met, that is leading to all this emotional distress? Do I think this should all be easy? That I should be able to do it without some level of challenge? Am I supposed to be on top of things, every minute, no matter what? Who said? Where do these notions come from?
Once I stopped and recognized these assumptions, and brought balance to my thinking by reflecting on the tragic and painful difficulties that others on this globe are enduring -- even those in my own city -- I was able to relax and engage in my tasks (like changing the sheets) with some humility and submission, a recognition of my frailty, my humanness. Yes, I moan and whine and complain, just like everyone else.
Spirituality is about living into our humanness, about embracing our faults, our frailty our finiteness, rather than skipping over it, putting on a together face and operating only out of our competence. It's about being present with our falling apart as it is happening. The paradox is that by surrendering to my humanity, by giving into my frailty, by recognizing and accepting my own inadequacy in the face of life's challenges, I may suddenly transcend difficulty and find myself in a blessed space of peace, even as I move through the tasks that irked me just a moment before. That, to me, is the Presence of God.
Prayer: Dear God, Help me to follow this thread of change, wherever it leads, guided by your gracious and invisible hand. Help me be present with each moment so that I don't become overwhelmed but just take one step at a time into Your Gracious Heart. Amen.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)