I participated willingly in a new discipline this week...actually twice. I started at a prompting I felt deep inside...as this is a discipline I have never embraced--ever. I have done it before, but always with a bit of a bad attitude. Anyway...I felt prompted for several days in a row...maybe even a period of weeks...before I succumbed to what, I believe, was Divine prompting. I am not going to share the specifics because I tend toward pride, and I think sharing details would open me up to patting myself on the back with "atta girl" and before you know it, I would be leaving God totally out of the equation.
So many people I love seem to be suffering greatly--particularly in relation to their children. I have railed at God, off and on during the past months, about WHY is everything so difficult? Why is there SO MUCH PAIN in this world in general, and in family relationships in particular? My heart is so heavy as I think of all the families I know that are affected by extreme circumstances at this moment.
As I mentioned, I began this discipline because I felt prompted, and I thought it was a way to engage in prayer for one family in particular. But what I didn't realize was how it would affect me. I felt so close and loved by my Creator during the days I did this. I was able to maintain a joyful interior, which, I am ashamed to say, has not been my norm lately. But the amazing thing was that the very next day I had the first belly laugh I have had in 6 or 7 weeks. I laughed until tears rolled down my cheeks. I was actually laughing at myself (no surprise, huh?). I have such a knack for putting my foot in my mouth. Oh, I laughed and laughed and laughed. I said something REALLY stupid, and thankfully there was someone there to call me on it. I was trying to compliment someone who wasn't there, but it could easily have been interpreted as an insult to someone who was there. A third person present recognized this and made a joke....and that is how it all started. Two hours later I was still laughing. Now you may not think much of that, but I haven't really laughed or even smiled deeply for quite some time. It felt so good to let those flood gates down. It wasn't until I thought about it the next day, that I connected the dots. What a gift this was. Thank you, God.
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Friendship
The shirt I have on is just a few months shy of 30 years old. It is a long sleeve t-shirt from the first spring formal I went to with Todd. (You know, in college, you have to have a t-shirt for everything.) My college roommate was visiting this weekend, and I put it on without thinking. She burst out laughing when she saw it, saying "You still have that!?" She is a friend of 30+ years...so she remembers these things. Can you believe I still have (and wear--around the house, of course) a 30 year-old shirt? It just plain shocked me when she said that number. 30 years. Wow. 30 years sounds so long, but to have lived it seems like almost a blink.
30 years ago, Todd and I began dating on February 23. Wow. It has been 3 1/2 years since his death. Those years seem long. How can 30 have gone by so fast?
I met a new friend for coffee the other day. Our friendship really only spans about 1 1/2 years, so I call that pretty new. She seems like an old friend though. Anyway...we were talking about friendships we have with people we rarely see. Friendships where the connection is so deep that it stands separate from time. You plop right down into them and they nourish you no matter how long it has been since you've seen them--no matter what life events have happened during the season of geographical and verbal separation...no awkwardness, just encouragement and nurturing.
I was getting ready to end this post with some smarmy line about hoping your life was scandalously full of these kind of friendships, when I realized that these relationships always have a cost. I know some who choose not to reach out and form new friendships because, to them, the cost is just not worth it. You don't get to the "deep connections separate from time" without experiencing life together. Every life-long friend I have has seen me through bad times as well as good. Honestly, I am kind of amazed I have any left after they had to walk with me after Todd's death. But they stuck around, and I am very thankful. Currently there is pain and grief in large doses for many of these dear friends. I am praying they know God holds them close (and will continue to hold them until it is light), and I am praying He will use me in their lives the same way He has used them in mine.
30 years ago, Todd and I began dating on February 23. Wow. It has been 3 1/2 years since his death. Those years seem long. How can 30 have gone by so fast?
I met a new friend for coffee the other day. Our friendship really only spans about 1 1/2 years, so I call that pretty new. She seems like an old friend though. Anyway...we were talking about friendships we have with people we rarely see. Friendships where the connection is so deep that it stands separate from time. You plop right down into them and they nourish you no matter how long it has been since you've seen them--no matter what life events have happened during the season of geographical and verbal separation...no awkwardness, just encouragement and nurturing.
I was getting ready to end this post with some smarmy line about hoping your life was scandalously full of these kind of friendships, when I realized that these relationships always have a cost. I know some who choose not to reach out and form new friendships because, to them, the cost is just not worth it. You don't get to the "deep connections separate from time" without experiencing life together. Every life-long friend I have has seen me through bad times as well as good. Honestly, I am kind of amazed I have any left after they had to walk with me after Todd's death. But they stuck around, and I am very thankful. Currently there is pain and grief in large doses for many of these dear friends. I am praying they know God holds them close (and will continue to hold them until it is light), and I am praying He will use me in their lives the same way He has used them in mine.
Saturday, February 9, 2013
More than Enough
Good Morning. Today I am reminded of the need to live in the present. To invest my best energies toward what is happening now. I am thankful for that reminder that came by way of a friend yesterday.
I have also been reminded of the powerful privilege we have to pray for one another, and how God is able to speak to us through the prayers and encouragement of others. I have been blessed as receiver of this gift all week. I honestly felt like I received radical heart surgery earlier this morning...radically changed for the better. And this change is way beyond ANYTHING I am capable of doing for myself. The beauty of it is that the heart transplant came as I was able to pour out my prayers, full of love, redemption, and peace for those on my heart. Amazing how that works. Amazing how He equips us to serve in ways we could never imagine. Amazing how He loves us in our triumphs and our failures. Amazing how He restores and refreshes our tattered and worn-out hearts...breathing His Life into our very beings.
Last night, I was surrounded by sweet children as my kids' oldest friends were at the house (along with their mommas). We gathered in a hand-held circle to pray for a particular family that is dear. The kids voices at the end, blessedly singing the Doxology, were more beautiful than words can express...I am sure if you had been here, your heart would have thought so too. "Praise God from Whom all blessings flow. Praise Him, all creatures here below. Praise Him above, ye heavenly host. Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost." Amen.
And the glory of the Lord shone around them...
Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,
"Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests."
Luke 2: 9, 13-14
I want more, because He is more than enough. Regardless of circumstances. Regardless of how we "feel." Praying we all hold this truth closely in our hearts.
I have also been reminded of the powerful privilege we have to pray for one another, and how God is able to speak to us through the prayers and encouragement of others. I have been blessed as receiver of this gift all week. I honestly felt like I received radical heart surgery earlier this morning...radically changed for the better. And this change is way beyond ANYTHING I am capable of doing for myself. The beauty of it is that the heart transplant came as I was able to pour out my prayers, full of love, redemption, and peace for those on my heart. Amazing how that works. Amazing how He equips us to serve in ways we could never imagine. Amazing how He loves us in our triumphs and our failures. Amazing how He restores and refreshes our tattered and worn-out hearts...breathing His Life into our very beings.
Last night, I was surrounded by sweet children as my kids' oldest friends were at the house (along with their mommas). We gathered in a hand-held circle to pray for a particular family that is dear. The kids voices at the end, blessedly singing the Doxology, were more beautiful than words can express...I am sure if you had been here, your heart would have thought so too. "Praise God from Whom all blessings flow. Praise Him, all creatures here below. Praise Him above, ye heavenly host. Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost." Amen.
And the glory of the Lord shone around them...
Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,
"Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests."
Luke 2: 9, 13-14
I want more, because He is more than enough. Regardless of circumstances. Regardless of how we "feel." Praying we all hold this truth closely in our hearts.
Sunday, February 3, 2013
This Side
There has been a tragedy in the life of a dear friend...someone I love very much. It is different being on this side. I want deperately to be able to share this load in a way that will help diminish the gutting pain which comes with heartbreak and uncertainty, but I know it really just can't be. All I can do is walk beside in companionship--praying, praying, praying--remembering the strength and comfort received from knowing people are holding you close in their hearts continually praying on your behalf, especially when you have no words for your own prayers. Also remembering that His Light can pierce even the darkest darkness when our eyes are swollen shut from weeping.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Wise Words from Henri Nouwen
In this current season of my life, I am reminded that God wastes nothing. A friend of mine recently sent this Henri Nouwen quote to me in an email. I don't believe my wounds are still open and bleeding, so I am hoping I don't scare others away and that my wounds can become a gift to others. Praying you are able to let your open and bleeding wounds be lovingly tended...knowing this is painful but it is the way to healing. Praying that those of you who have allowed your wounds to be tended are able to share this gift.
__________________________________________________________
Our own experience with loneliness, depression, and fear can become a gift for others, especially when we have received good care. As long as our wounds are open and bleeding, we scare others away. But after someone has carefully tended to our wounds, they no longer frighten us or others.
When we experience the healing presence of another person, we can discover our own gifts of healing. Then our wounds allow us to enter into a deep solidarity with our wounded brothers and sisters.
To enter into solidarity with a suffering person does not mean that we have to talk with that person about our own suffering. Speaking about our own pain is seldom helpful for someone who is in pain. A wounded healer is someone who can listen to a person in pain without having to speak about his or her own wounds. When we have lived through a painful depression, we can listen with great attentiveness and love to a depressed friend without mentioning our experience. Mostly it is better not to direct a suffering person’s attention to ourselves. We have to trust that our own bandaged wounds will allow us to listen to others with our whole beings. That is healing.”
-Henri Nouwen, The Wounded Healer, 1979.
__________________________________________________________
Our own experience with loneliness, depression, and fear can become a gift for others, especially when we have received good care. As long as our wounds are open and bleeding, we scare others away. But after someone has carefully tended to our wounds, they no longer frighten us or others.
When we experience the healing presence of another person, we can discover our own gifts of healing. Then our wounds allow us to enter into a deep solidarity with our wounded brothers and sisters.
To enter into solidarity with a suffering person does not mean that we have to talk with that person about our own suffering. Speaking about our own pain is seldom helpful for someone who is in pain. A wounded healer is someone who can listen to a person in pain without having to speak about his or her own wounds. When we have lived through a painful depression, we can listen with great attentiveness and love to a depressed friend without mentioning our experience. Mostly it is better not to direct a suffering person’s attention to ourselves. We have to trust that our own bandaged wounds will allow us to listen to others with our whole beings. That is healing.”
-Henri Nouwen, The Wounded Healer, 1979.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Mysterium
Guess I missed posting this during Advent...it is almost Epiphany now. I love this music, so I will share this old post I never published.
For those of us who celebrate Advent--the season of waiting and preparation before Christmas--tomorrow will be the first Sunday of Advent. In the Episcopal Church we do not sing traditional Christmas carols in church until Christmas Day (and after for the twelve days of the Christmas season). However, 12 days for all these beautiful hymns is just not long enough for me, so
I found myself singing this morning--at the top of my voice--one of my fav-o-rites from my Murrah Singers days, "O Magnum Mysterium." I decided I wanted to sing along with the choir, so I put on the album ;-) Yes, I still have a copy, AND I still have a turntable.
Listening to "O Holy Night" for the first time this year, I was moved to tears and to my knees. What else can I do when faced with such love--that He would humble himself to become like us to show us the way?
The season of Advent (time of preparation and waiting) begins Sunday. I am praying I will slow down instead of speed up like the world says I should this time of year. I am praying I will intentionally love and give my best to those I hold dear...and to those I don't. I am praying that Christ's love will flourish in my heart--and that I can truly rest in the truth that "the joy of the LORD is my strength"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2O3aCCGjuvY
O Magnum Mysterium is a responsorial chant from the Matins of Christmas.
Latin text
O magnum mysterium,
et admirabile sacramentum,
ut animalia viderent Dominum natum,
jacentem in praesepio!
Beata Virgo, cujus viscera
meruerunt portare
Dominum Christum.
Alleluia.
English translation
O great mystery,
and wonderful sacrament,
that animals should see the new-born Lord,
lying in a manger!
Blessed is the Virgin whose womb
was worthy to bear
Christ the Lord.
Alleluia!
For those of us who celebrate Advent--the season of waiting and preparation before Christmas--tomorrow will be the first Sunday of Advent. In the Episcopal Church we do not sing traditional Christmas carols in church until Christmas Day (and after for the twelve days of the Christmas season). However, 12 days for all these beautiful hymns is just not long enough for me, so
I found myself singing this morning--at the top of my voice--one of my fav-o-rites from my Murrah Singers days, "O Magnum Mysterium." I decided I wanted to sing along with the choir, so I put on the album ;-) Yes, I still have a copy, AND I still have a turntable.
Listening to "O Holy Night" for the first time this year, I was moved to tears and to my knees. What else can I do when faced with such love--that He would humble himself to become like us to show us the way?
The season of Advent (time of preparation and waiting) begins Sunday. I am praying I will slow down instead of speed up like the world says I should this time of year. I am praying I will intentionally love and give my best to those I hold dear...and to those I don't. I am praying that Christ's love will flourish in my heart--and that I can truly rest in the truth that "the joy of the LORD is my strength"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2O3aCCGjuvY
O Magnum Mysterium is a responsorial chant from the Matins of Christmas.
Latin text
O magnum mysterium,
et admirabile sacramentum,
ut animalia viderent Dominum natum,
jacentem in praesepio!
Beata Virgo, cujus viscera
meruerunt portare
Dominum Christum.
Alleluia.
English translation
O great mystery,
and wonderful sacrament,
that animals should see the new-born Lord,
lying in a manger!
Blessed is the Virgin whose womb
was worthy to bear
Christ the Lord.
Alleluia!
Hide and Seek
I try never to publish a post while I am in the pit of despair. I don’t want to deny the struggle or pretend it doesn’t exist, but I never want to leave it there. It has been my experience that even the darkest times eventually come to an end…or at least a lessening. There have been seasons when the light flooded in without me even having the strength (or wisdom) to look for it, but there have been more times when I have very actively had to search…or really, it is the daily quest and time invested in this relationship with Christ that allows me to be found when I am lost. He calls me by name, and I recognize His voice (even though I am very stubborn and easily distracted). I wrote this post several weeks ago, but I was hesitant to post it until I was sure I really believed it myself, if you know what I mean.
There are just sometimes when I belligerently want to focus on all I’ve lost instead of having a thankful heart. I can usually feel the ungratefulness and despair building to a destructive wave of sorrow mixed with anger and bitterness. Almost like I am playing a crazy game of hide-and-seek (picture Jack Nicholson in The Shining)--where I am the hider and the enemy of my heart is the seeker. Usually I end up kicking and screaming (in fear, anger and alone-ness) as the mean and hate-filled seeker gets closer—which most certainly gives away my (not so) good hiding place. Just as I fear I am about to be discovered, I usually remember that I don’t have to do this alone. Honestly, why do I forget so easily? There is One who never leaves me to do battle alone, who is willing to fight for me and with me, and from whom I never need hide...no matter how badly I have behaved while I was hiding-and-seeking with the enemy. (And I can behave pretty badly.) The turning back to a heart attitude of thankfulness, praise and humility seems to be the first step. Of course, it is only the power of the Holy Spirit that makes this turn possible…it is totally beyond anything I can do. What a mystery.
Peacefulness, which so recently seemed out of reach, returns. I am reminded that Christ is the only good hiding place. And He continues to seek after me whenever I go off hiding elsewhere.
Isaiah 61:3
and provide for those who grieve in Zion--
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness
instead of mourning,,
and the garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair
John 10:4
He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out…his sheep follow him because they know his voice.
Matthew 23:37
O Jerusalem…how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing.
Luke 15: 4-6
Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Does he not leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home.
There are just sometimes when I belligerently want to focus on all I’ve lost instead of having a thankful heart. I can usually feel the ungratefulness and despair building to a destructive wave of sorrow mixed with anger and bitterness. Almost like I am playing a crazy game of hide-and-seek (picture Jack Nicholson in The Shining)--where I am the hider and the enemy of my heart is the seeker. Usually I end up kicking and screaming (in fear, anger and alone-ness) as the mean and hate-filled seeker gets closer—which most certainly gives away my (not so) good hiding place. Just as I fear I am about to be discovered, I usually remember that I don’t have to do this alone. Honestly, why do I forget so easily? There is One who never leaves me to do battle alone, who is willing to fight for me and with me, and from whom I never need hide...no matter how badly I have behaved while I was hiding-and-seeking with the enemy. (And I can behave pretty badly.) The turning back to a heart attitude of thankfulness, praise and humility seems to be the first step. Of course, it is only the power of the Holy Spirit that makes this turn possible…it is totally beyond anything I can do. What a mystery.
Peacefulness, which so recently seemed out of reach, returns. I am reminded that Christ is the only good hiding place. And He continues to seek after me whenever I go off hiding elsewhere.
Isaiah 61:3
and provide for those who grieve in Zion--
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness
instead of mourning,,
and the garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair
John 10:4
He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out…his sheep follow him because they know his voice.
Matthew 23:37
O Jerusalem…how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing.
Luke 15: 4-6
Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Does he not leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home.
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