Facebook's "what's on your mind?" prompt has been taunting me, so here's what's on my mind. It begins with a conversation...
“You know what’s strange? Most people I see who aren’t wearing masks are Christians,” a friend who was standing over 6 feet away said to me. We both shook our heads.
Interconnected. That’s what we are with everyone & everything.
In not recognizing it, we are what the prophets lamented, “foolish and senseless people who have eyes but do not see, ears but do not hear.” Which leads to little understanding of how God is present and at work in our world. After all, one way Jesus described the Kingdom of God is “like yeast that a woman took and mixed into about sixty pounds of flour until it worked all through the dough" (he also used the image of yeast to describe leaders’ hypocrisy).
The Reign of Love, like coronavirus, spreads in hidden ways.
We had Thanksgiving dinner at my brother-in-law’s parents’ home this past year. They live less than 5 miles away. Both were diagnosed with COVID-19. His dad died this week. My husband’s grandma was diagnosed with COVID-19 this week, too. And we await the test results of a dear friend as to whether or not he has COVID-19.
The politicization of COVID-19 and seeing people not taking it seriously infuriates me.
I can’t help but think of words found in Deuteronomy 30, “I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life that you and your descendants may live.”
The “you” being addressed is an entire nation of people. A nation is made of many individual “yous.” So the choice is both personal and communal, they’re interconnected. And they also impact not only those we see right here, right now, but generations to come (we’re seeing this truth with our nation’s racial injustice crying out to be healed).
Granted, the choice doesn’t always look or feel like life at the time. The path of/toward Life often does not.
In the middle of May, we decided that until the virus’ spread trended downward for 2 weeks or we could assure social-distancing measures, we needed to do our best (knowing we wouldn’t do it perfectly) to “love our neighbor as ourselves.” So we cancelled our vacation and we have not let Alex play on his travel baseball team (the latter decision harder than the former).
Does it make any difference? We don’t know. But those are a couple of ways our family has and continues to choose Life. Given our awareness of our interconnectivity to everything and everyone else, including all of you, we can do no less.
My 13-year-old daughter started animating the morning after a tornado blew through our town of Mount Juliet, TN, leaving a path of heart-breaking destruction. At first, it was a way for her to express her feelings. It then became a way for her to speak to others affected by the storm and direct people to give to The Community Foundation of Middle Tennessee. When she first showed me her completed animation, I was amazed by its heart and simplicity.
One scene in particular continues to stay with me. When the boy grabs hold of the extended hand, he bursts into tears. Rather than stifle them, the touch allows his tears to flow freely and the animation stops right there.
It doesn’t end on a sunny note (even though she wrote earlier in the video, “It’s going to be okay…We’re in this together.”). Having the promise of things inevitably being okay does not mean we are (or someone else is) okay in the moment. It does not mean we need to stop our tears or think there’s nothing to cry about (even if someone does have it worse).
There is a time to leap into action, to encourage each other that all will be okay, to gather in churches to sing praises and offer thanksgiving, to share Scriptures and words of hope to find strength for the road ahead.
There is also a time, especially as the shock wears off, to allow for tears, both individually and communally, and stop right there.
A poem written in 2013 about what led me to meditation & other contemplative practices years ago.
All my old ways of
finding God kept failing
And one rage-filled
day I stopped trying
Sat down wondering
if I was worth finding
Let go of seeking
and began trusting
Many are the ways
seeming right to a man
I started recalling
My ways kept putting
me in charge of
who the Psalmist
found futile escaping.
Do you really think
more thinking is
needed right now?
Especially when what
we're dealing with is a
sickness of the mind!
With sad eyes
the soul whispers
“Stop” (as it always has)
Did Saint Paul not say
the same to the good folks
With a humble heart
(admitting the -ism
existing in yourself)
sit in Silence
Without mistaking such
Silence for absence
or worse, indifference!
The soul knows
how to wait
for salvation from
And do you remember
Jesus speaking to his disciples--
What does it take for some
demonic powers to leave?
Prayer and fasting.
then close your lips and listen.
Until clenched fists open
until anxiety and anger
slip through your fingers
Until you receive
in your now-ready head,
heart, and hands
that which you are to give
for the healing of this,
More than I thought.
In 2009 I had emergency back surgery for a ruptured disc that caused the worst nerve pain I have ever felt...paralyzing lightning down my leg and out my right toes leaving me screaming.
After the surgery, I'd hoped the muscle pain and sciatica I had experienced on and off since high school would finally be gone...it wasn't. I did physical therapy (having already done chiropractic). Again I was hopeful...it didn't help.
Whenever the pain would hit, I'd chalk it up to accidentally bending or twisting and tweaking an old basketball injury. It would have me either in bed or on the floor with my feet up on the couch for days. I thought my active life of hiking and carrying stuff (like my own little girl) was over. I (& those around me) started treating my back gingerly, making sure I did not lift or do anything that could trigger that familiar shooting pain. You can imagine what I looked like whenever I walked and sat down or did anything that included my back (amazing how much does!).
One night at a breathwork class, after observing me, the instructor told me to read John Sarno's The Mindbody Prescription, saying it would help. I thought this was laughable. I'd undergone the knife and physical therapy, how could a book help? Undeterred she told me how it had helped a friend with my kind of pain. At the end of our time she said, "You're so young, I just don't want you to be in pain the rest of your life." What did I have to lose? I read it.
I haven't been on the floor or in bed due to back pain since. Seriously. That was 8 years ago!
Over the past eight years, beginning with that book, I've learned three things:
My physical self is interconnected with all other parts of myself. How I am spiritually affects how I am emotionally which affects how I am physically and all can affect how I am relationally. What's happening relationally can affect how I am mentally and emotionally and physically and so on. If we choose to dissect and isolate any of these when we have dis-ease or pain in any given area, we miss ways of healing that come when we consider the whole of us.
A lifetime of being a "good girl" coupled with perfectionism affected my body. It led to the suppression of anger and other unwanted feelings which finally erupted in physical pain. My unconscious thought physical pain a better choice than emotional pain. Locating an old area of injury and a socially acceptable place of pain (back pain is what ulcers used to be!), that's what it chose. It's interesting the games our minds can play (thinking that they're helping us)!
Seeing God as a Divine Task-Master perpetuated my good girl-perfectionist cycle. Since we become like the God we adore (as I mentioned in last week's post), my inner critics had no problem replicating this God-like perpetual drivenness to accomplish and improve. Be better. Try harder. Be (or at least act) perfect. And it's no surprise that snippets of Scripture would often run through my mind to back up these "commands"! Anytime I fell short, which of course I did since I'm human, I took the feelings of anger and shame and stuffed them. Eventually my body would no longer "play these reindeer games" (it began warning me in junior high but it took me a long time before I would or knew how to listen!).
Now my body is my friend. I view it as part of the whole. It tells me the truth. When I feel nerve pain begin in my toe, I know that if I don't tend to what feelings are running under the surface, it will soon start in my back. My God-created body has invited me to not only reflect on my God-created emotions but even my image of God. As my image of God has undergone healing and transformation, guess what? It's affected my mind, emotions, relationships, and yes, my body. Thank God for that gift of back pain.
Ever find yourself angry when someone did not do what they were "supposed" to do or be who they were "supposed" to be?
Whether it's a relationship with one person, your whole family or even your church family, there's bound to come trouble and disappointment.
I was recently asked how I had discovered peace given my own disappointments and struggles. I was encouraged because this meant the person sensed peace in me where they had not before! The truth is, peace began to fill me when I started practicing letting go of the way I had pictured things. When I loosened my grip on demanding things and people to be how I wanted them to be, I was in for a surprise!
Guess what happened? Scales fell from my eyes and I began to see how God was providing for me in ways I simply could not see when I was demanding how, when, and who. When I shifted from feeling angry and filled with bitter disappointment when "how, when and who" did not come through it was like the moment in Genesis 28:16 when Jacob exclaims, "“You were here all the time, and I never knew it!"
We all have idealistic pictures as to how our life and relationships should look.
This comes as no surprise, our culture schools us in desire and what it should look like so we pursue and learn to create illusion. This is especially true during holidays or important life events and stages. We have expectations. We long for the perfect experience or outcome.
Actually, the core desire in the idealism is usually good. At the core I find the longing to give and receive love in all its forms from belonging to delighting. It's what we do with the desire as to whether or not it leads to life (and peace). As I observe my own life and the lives of others, here are some places we can go with desire so it remains life-giving:
We can lament.
The process of letting go of what we desired and pictured is difficult. God knows this, it's one reason why there are laments in the Psalms. In a perfect world, our relationships and society would not be so filled with wounded people wounding people (including ourselves). When we do not have the deep relationship we wish we had with a person or the co-workers we pictured, the church we desired or the family gatherings we had hoped for, we can allow ourselves to name, express and feel the loss.
We can let go.
From small, daily letting go to larger, deeper letting go, the smaller ones prepare us for the larger. For example, take Psalm 27:10, "Even if my father and mother abandon me, the Lord will hold me close." Who exclaims such a thing? Someone who has experienced God's steadfast love in the small betrayals and so trusts God in the big ones. This person recognizes that when others cannot provide, God can. Can you relate to others being unwilling or unable to come through? Just like the Psalmist, we can begin to release our stranglehold, our white-knuckled clutch, on whoever or whatever is not giving us what we want, need or pictured. We can transfer the people, situations and ourselves into the hands of God.
We can be on the lookout.
Perhaps one reason the text in Luke 17:21 can be translated either the Kingdom is "within or among you" is because both are true! When I let go of demanding a particular person or group meet my need then I am freed up to see how God is providing everything I need. It could arise within me or come through other people or parts of the created world I did not expect. Recognizing the ways the Spirit of Love is speaking from within ourselves takes practice. Yet sometimes when life is particularly overwhelming, no matter how strong our spiritual life, we are unable to access the Kingdom of God within us. This is when the Body of Christ (when functioning as intended) can step in and offer the steadfast, creative love of God.
May we allow lament and letting go of the way we pictured things to clear our eyes and create space that we may see and receive the Kingdom of God.
Who told anger
“You are not welcome here”
And banished her
to lonely places
And left him
to sit by the road?
It was never the One
who stands at the door and knocks
Or in lonely places prays
Or who blinds some and gives sight to others
that their roads may lead
By "it" I'm referring to anger.
It's important. Even necessary.
Our anger need not be squelched or swallowed, repressed or suppressed...but it need not lead either (or down a destructive path we'll go, harming ourselves and others!). This is what the Psalmist and Paul admonish in Psalm 4:4 and Ephesians 4:26, when they say "Be angry but do not sin."
In the book, Healing Spiritual Abuse and Religious Addiction, I ran across this quote by William Sloane Coffin, Jr. and it stopped me in my tracks:
Jesus was angry over 50% of the time, and it's very dangerous theology to try to improve on Jesus. The anger needs to be focused, but anger is what maintains your sanity. Anger keeps you from tolerating the intolerable.
Isn't that good news? Anger itself isn't a sin. In fact, it can even be Christ-like. So let's not set our anger aside too quickly (lest resentment builds and the volcano explodes). If we're willing to listen, anger has gifts it's willing to give. Two I've experienced and seen offered to those I work with in spiritual direction are energy and creativity.
A youth pastor sat slumped in his chair as he told me he had been lethargic and uninspired all week even though his ministry and students had experienced a traumatic betrayal by a respected church leader the week before. I thought his lethargy may be a protective measure shielding him from the force of his anger (which to him didn't feel too Christ-like, but Christ's life shows otherwise). So I asked him how he felt about the man and what he had done to the students in his community and he nearly leapt from his chair with rage! Gone was his lethargy of just a few minutes ago! And onto exploring deeply healing and creative ways of caring for himself and his students (and the energy to carry it out).
Feeling lethargic, burned-out or stagnant lately? Have you been afraid to be angry or express anger? Or is anger leading you down a destructive path, harmful to yourself and others? If so, it's time for a little reflection on anger. Read on.
Acknowledge your anger. Get to know it and its relationship with you.
Listen to what anger is trying to say. What is its message? Some examples may be...
Ask anger a few clarifying questions. Anger has some wisdom you could use, so be curious and ask.
A few more questions for anger to consider...
Reflect on what you've learned. What have you discovered about your present anger and its message?
I've found that once I've listened to my anger it becomes a wise adviser rather than a compulsive and destructive leader. Rather than taking its wrath out on me or others, it's much more willing to tone down or step aside. In fact, I find it's willing to...
Now that feels like sanity. And hopeful possibility...
May you continue to join Jesus on the way of life with and through your anger!
As division and divisive language continue to escalate, I think if Jesus were to choose one of his parables for us, he would share the story of The Good Samaritan and simply change the language.
You may recall this parable found in Luke 10:25-37. A man is attacked by thieves, left to die and those of his own group pass him by (even crossing over to the other side of the street rather than helping him). But the one who stops, bandages his wounds, takes him to a place where he can be cared for and pays for his care is none other than the enemy!
Hearing Dr. Amy-Jill Levine's words around this parable opened my eyes to be on the lookout for help coming from the "enemy camp." I found examples not only in the New Testament, but the Old Testament as well. Where did help come from for infant Moses pulled from the Nile? From the very palace of the murderous king who issued the order that all male Israelite babies be thrown into the river! The rescuing of Moses and the parable of The Good Samaritan remind me that people of compassion are everywhere (as are people of violence and indifference). They are found in every religion, in every political camp. It does no earthly good to continue to demonize those who are not like us. It's a waste of valuable time to continue to ruminate on how terrible those Republicans or Democrats are (or any group we are tempted to label and disdain). And it's certainly a waste of energy to share divisive Facebook posts or tweets!
Instead, pause from posting about your enemy and join me for a moment to enter into this take on Jesus' parable. Read and then close your eyes, allowing yourself to take in the scene with all of your senses (which is to meditate on the passage):
Jesus' parables confused, confounded and disturbed its listeners. On purpose. For those courageous or curious enough to enter into them (to meditate or chew on them) they offered salvation.
Whether a change of heart, a transformed mind, more freedom, mercy or love...whatever it is you're seeking today...what if Moses' own salvation and the parable are right? What if what you're looking for may just come from the enemy camp?!?
Kasey is a scarf, ball and club juggling spiritual director just outside of Nashville, TN. Play helps her Type-A, Enneagram 1 personality relax, creating space for poetry and other words to emerge. She also likes playing with theological ideas like perichoresis, and all the ways we're invited into this Triune dance.