Hope

The last four weeks, I've been home, not by choice, but by circumstance.  I had hoped to capture every quiet moment of reflection and self discovery.  I couldn't cook, clean, dress the children, play, lift, prepare, plan - all the things that typically fill the minutes of my day.  So, in four weeks, I've uncovered a new way of being that I long to hang onto as I enter back into my life, hopefully not as I knew it before.


I hope I can commit to the daily meditation practice I've learned to cherish.


I hope I can commit to my daily blog entries which are my commitment to working through life's big questions that usurp my mind.


I hope I can commit to this pace of life, knowing that things will get hectic again and hoping that I have the wisdom to know when to call a time out.


I hope I can commit to my search for a deeper and more personal connection to God.   I sense God's presence in moments and spaces that are unexpected. I hope I can keep aware.


I hope I can commit to searching for quiet moments where I can sit in God's presence.


I hope I stay committed to my healing process.

In all my hoping, I am reminded of a favorite hymn:

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus' blood and righteousness;
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly lean on Jesus' name.
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand.

My Hope is Built on Nothing Lessby Edward Mote, 1797-1874

Worry

Today's Gospel lesson was from Matthew in which he tells us not to worry.  Unfortunately, like many women and most mom's, this is something I do very well - worry that is!  I've come to believe that worry, for me, is rooted in a fear of losing control. 

Sometimes I worry over work things (how will this program reflect my office, am I making a difference in the lives of students). 

Sometimes I worry about my children (that's dangerous, I don't want you to get hurt, don't say that, it's mean). 

Sometimes I worry about my faith (do I know what I believe, how does this all fit together). 

And sometimes, those fears collide (am I working too much or spending enough time with my kids, what will my children believe about God when they grow up)

Oh, and the list goes on and on....  We are good worriers!

I have found, though, that we can comfort ourselves and move away from our worry.  A child psychologist once told me that we can look at worry as a "worry monster" who lives inside our heads or our bellies.  Our worry monster is always trying to trick and bully us.  And we need to take charge of our worry monster. 

In our home, we have weapons that have been proven to slow down that worry monster.  For starters, breathing is one of the most powerful weapons we have.  We take in a deep breath so as to prepare for the largest monster bubble ever!  Then we slowly blow that bubble (careful not to blow too fast so that the bubble doesn't pop) and we throw that monster-in-a-bubble to the moon.  It works like a charm.

Here are some other weapons from our home:







The soft, worn corner of a blanket...



A thumb...



Some of us need more weapons than others...

A gift from my daughter before surgery which turned round and round in my hands until the time to go.

Growing Readers

Next week is Read Across America and my kids will be busy with a bunch of fun activities at daycare and school.  Reading is something we celebrate in our house, so I thought I would share some of our reading - kid style.  Oh, and the baby is napping, so I captured her nightly reading stash instead of a photo of her reading.  Maybe we'll add a pic of her later...



A favorite: Diary of a Wimpy Kid




A perfect expression for a learning reader




Shouldn't there be a child in that bed?



Positive Thoughts

I have a friend who has this amazing capacity to see beauty in places where most of us fail to look - the ice covered trees, a table setting, snow covered yards.  It is something I've admired about her for a long time and have recently been reminded how important her gift is to me.

So, I'm borrowing from a tradition I've seen on a number of blogs and other sites, and am committing to a themed, weekly Friday post that I'm calling Positive Thoughts.  Mine will serve as an intentional moment to create and share a positive thought - not a quote from someone else, but a challenge I've given myself to turn off my judgment and problem solving skills and turn my thoughts toward appreciation.

Today I am appreciating these last four weeks at home. 

I've been home recovering from surgey, but I've gained far more than a healthy body. 

I've learned to meditate. 

I've taken the time to stop and consider who I am. 

I've prayed. 

I've read - a lot! 

I've started exercising.

I've started this blog. 

This was just in the time I had to focus on me.  How many women, working or at home, get the opportunity to be alone, to explore themselves, to appreciate themselves, to work on themselves?  I've been given a gift!

I've also enjoyed this slower pace of life.  These were weeks where I could really be "in the moment" with my children.  We have not been running from one thing to the next.  We've not been running late for the bus.  We've not been yelling, dawdling, chasing, or pushing.

We've read lots of books together. 

We've played together. 

We've danced together (with the help of Wii's Just Dance 2).

We've created together. 

We've healed together.

I realize that I could have viewed this time off as a burden or something to mourn.  I certainly expected I would be bored, antsy, anxious to return to the normalcy of my life.  I praise God for the attitude and intentionality with which I've lived this time.  May the bump's in your life be viewed as opportunities!

Unpacking

Forgive me as I work through some of the issues, inconsistencies, and struggles I've been having with the church.  I've been tentative about getting to these topics so quickly after starting this blog, but I really need to get them out of my head and into a space where I can begin to make sense of them.  I promise that once I empty the frustrations and draining questions about the church that I'll move back into my journey to find God's unconditional love within me.  Somehow, this feels a necessary step in my process!

For years, I have relied solely on the church (see yesterday's post) for spiritual nourishment.  Recently, I haven't found that nourishment from the church so I've been exploring other places.  I need to be rather honest, though.  I own the problem, not the church.  As I eluded to yesterday, I have had the good fortune of being a part of strong church communities where worship, among other things, gave me all I needed to get through each week.  

Most recently, we were part of a congregation with a strong children's and youth ministry, a pastor who was progressive in nature, but grounded in Scripture, a music ministry that could only be surpassed with professional musicians.  We worked hard to sustain a welcoming and inviting church experience for visitors, while strengthening our own community. In my time at this church, we experienced some ugly events that splendidly captured our human falleness.  Lay leaders stepped up in the absence of a pastor and began the healing process for our congregation.  In the meantime, other lay leaders worked hard to keep worship, music, Christian education, and community alive.  Oh, I miss this church home.

We moved from this church family when I accepted a job elsewhere and moved to an area where there are not a lot of Lutheran churches, but I feel fully grounded in the Lutheran tradition.  The few Lutheran churches in this area are far more conservative, traditional and rooted in what they've always known and always done.  For the first time in my church life, I've begun to understand why Lutherans have a reputation for being averse to change.  But, I can't begin to understand this aversion.

Did the Lutheran church not begin on the entire premise of change?  Luther never wanted a new church.  He wanted reform in the Catholic church which he loved so much.  

So, we don't change what we do, mostly.  

Other churches around us have changed a lot of what they do to meet the interests of the people living in this community.  The churches who offer contemporary worship, Sunday school in conjunction with traditional worship, praise band opportunities, youth retreats, and week night Bible and fellowship activities for children are booming.  They are alive and filled with energy.  They have families and children (I can count on two hands the number of families with children we have at our church)! But they don't have formal liturgy or ritual.

Just after our arrival, I remember thinking out loud to a fellow church member who happened to be a coworker and saying with surprise, "Our church is so conservative!?"  He replied, "The Lutheran church IS conservative."  I was knocked over with this assertion.  Never did I feel any political alignment in the churches I attended.  Never were social issues (abortion, sexual orientation, etc.) at the heart of our existence.  I felt like a fish out of water.

In fact, I would have suggested that the church's emphasis on reaching out to the poor, feeding the hungry, and serving the marginalized coupled with the recent social statements published by the larger church, show that the Lutheran church is far from conservative.  So, why are we stuck in this time warp?

I've shopped.  Believe me, I've shopped for another church.  I've reviewed worship schedules and formats, I've searched for children and youth programs, I've explored music ministry opportunities, I've talked with families that attend other churches, I've visited other churches.  But, I always come back to this - grace alone, faith alone, Word alone.  

Here are the things I believe and I can't say that they are all really Lutheran.  But I do know that these beliefs keep me where I am, despite my discontent with the church.

• I believe that we are ALL children of God.
• I believe that God extended her Grace through the life, death, and resurrection of her Son, Jesus Christ.
• I believe that we are called, as Christians, to love - when it's hard, when others don't, when we can't.  This love should be without judgment and without condition, but with understanding and compassion.
• I believe that we are context bound.  If we are born Muslim, we will be bound to a belief system that most Christians cannot comprehend.  A belief system that we are not permitted to challenge or question.  A belief system so part of our history, family, and daily existence that we wouldn't even think to question it.  Yet, I cannot believe in a God that would condemn us for this.  Therefore, we, as humans, should not condemn others.
• I believe in the presence and power of the Holy Spirit.

So, how to reconcile this?  How do I find spiritual nourishment (I'll save an update on my meditation practice for another day)?  How do I have patience and understanding with the people who make up the church, including myself?  How do I overcome my frustration with my current worship experience?  How do I learn what appropriate worship should be?  One thing I can say is that one big question surely leads to the next...

Until next time, peace be with you.

"the church"

Reredos

On my mind today is another of those big questions.  At the risk of being too brief, I'll start with some thoughts today and likely revisit this topic again...

"The church" is a concept I've been struggling with for a while now.  I grew up in "the church" because my parents raised me in the church.  But I've continued with "the church" as an adult because I'm seeking a spiritual foundation for myself and for my children.  I am involved in "the church."  I've served on committees, conducted children's choirs, directed hand bell choirs, played flute for countless worship services at many different churches, and I've occasionally sung in choirs.  I've read Scripture readings during worship, assisted with Sunday school and have taught vacation Bible school.  I'm definitely connected with "the church."

There is much about "the church" that I love, that sustains me, that fuels me.  I love liturgy and worship.  I can recall many Sunday mornings where I've seen the thread that runs through the music, scripture, the prayers, and the sermon and I've walked away from worship renewed. 

I love ritual - communion, the order of worship, baptism, stations of the cross at Lent, church seasons, colors of church seasons - particularly when I understand and learn about the significance of each ritual.  For example, baptism means something different to many Christians, but for those of us who believe that we are saved by grace alone, baptism is a ritual in which God welcomes us as a child of God.  It doesn't matter who we are, who are family is, where we come from, or who we will grow up to be, God says, "You are mine."

Pipe organ: St. Paul's Cathedral

I LOVE music.  More than once in my life, I've been blessed with amazing music directors and music programs (the sign of a true Lutheran!).  I know, first-hand, the transformation that music can make in a worship experience.  I know how music can lift me up and carry me to places beyond my human experience - festival Sundays, holidays, anniversary and ordination celebration, Lenten mid-week services, weekly worship.  

Worship music has made me weep, glow, shiver, shine, smile, and fly.  It has always been that I've felt closest to God through music - listening, singing, playing, practicing; traditional hymns, classical, contemporary, African, instrumental or vocal.  I've often felt that music is the language that can transcend cultural difference, religious difference, generational difference - any difference for that matter.

But, lately "the church" seems cold, stuck, lost, dying.  

The empty pews and lack of energy in worship, as well as the physically cold temperatures leave my weekly visit feeling incomplete, unbalanced.  

The resistance to change our worship style or to try new styles of music within worship makes me frustrated.  

Our emphasis on tradition and ritual in a geographic area that seems much more inclined to discard tradition and ritual to be replaced with fundamental and conservative ideals combined with contemporary, activity-filled worship makes me wonder if we are sustainable.  Quite frankly, my weekly worship experience makes me wonder if I can be sustained by "the church."

Of course this is why I'm turning to meditation, prayer, and reflection for spiritual sustenance.  I'm not finding it from with out, so I'm looking within.  As for "the church," I'm not going anywhere.  

I will pray that I can look beyond what I want worship to be.

I will pray that I can be part of a solution for "the church."

I will pray that I can merge the parts of "the church" that I love with my own personal journey so that they are symbiotic rather than separate and distinct.

I will pray and meditate and reflect.

L.O.V.E.

Love (daughter's craft project)

I know, I'm a little late for Valentine's Day!  But, I've been thinking a lot about LOVE lately because...

I recently read Eat Pray Love and she talked a lot about the fullness and wholeness and richness and warmth of God's love which she discovered during her meditation practice while in India.

Because I want to know that kind of love (not that I don't know love), but I long to know God's love so intimately.

Because this journey has been bringing me closer to the love of my life (my husband).

Because yesterday's Gospel reading was from Matthew in which we are encouraged to not only love when it is easy, but to love when it is tough.

Because I want to work with my students in a way that is patient and comes from love, rather than judgment and frustration.

Because I have three children that remind me daily of what love is - a colored picture, a hug, a gift made at school, a song, a dance, a joke, laughter.

Good and gracious God, 

Thank you for your love, unconditional and ever present.  Thank you for loving us, even when it is tough.  Thank you for children who are shining examples of your love.  Help me to be an example of your love to all those in my life - my family, my friends, my coworkers, my students, even to those who I will find tough to love!

Quiet Moments

It is 6:30 a.m. Saturday morning and I am awake watching the sun rise - at least the gray clouded horizon!  One baby awake, quietly settled in front of morning cartoons (a Saturday pleasure for my children).  So, I find myself savoring the quiet and the moment to feel God's presence.

The last few days have brought in beautiful weather, warm and sunny and melting the mounds of snow that have been here since the beginning of December.  The weather brought a great opportunity to be outside, to run, to be loud, to play, to walk and breath the fresh air.  It's also been very windy, the wind bringing with it the next cold and snowy front.  The wind even woke us a few times through the night.  So, in the moment of morning that I am enjoying, I notice that the weather turned still.

The stillness captured!

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'm thankful for the still and quiet time I've had these last three weeks.  I'm thankful for the healing that has come with that stillness.  I'm thankful for this quiet morning time today.  For it is in the still and quiet that God touches my heart and says, "I'm here with you!"

Peace to you this Saturday morning!

Meditation

I want to clarify something I wrote yesterday.  I said that my husband did not "fully understand" this journey.  That's not entirely true.  He is curious, loving, supportive, and holding me safely through this journey.  He's been reading my posts, a little surprised and caught off guard with what and how much has been trapped in my mind.  But, he is with me, at my side, and I think, a little excited to see what comes of this.  I love him for this!

On to meditation...

About 10 years ago, I was introduced to guided meditation at a conference on women and became hooked.  When I was pregnant with my first child, I purchased a CD set from the same woman who introduced me to guided meditation.  This set was focused on healthy pregnancy and childbirth. I used the CD daily for weeks before my due date and learned that I was good at guided meditation.  I'd get into position and be in a still and quiet space before the introduction to the CD was over.  To this day, I've NEVER heard the actual meditation for either CD.  Perhaps I was asleep, but I know that during each of my labors, I used my breath and strength from those meditations to deliver three healthy babies without any medication or intervention.

Since then, I've purchased another guided meditation for relaxation and wellness.  I used this prior to having surgery when my anxiety was at its height.  (Although, to be honest, I forgot I had the CD until I shared my worries with my mother one night.  She had borrowed the CD and saw it sitting on her desk after we got off the phone.  Some would call that providence and others divine intervention.  Whatever you call it, I'm thankful it happened!).  Again, this meditation helped me function normally in the days leading to surgery.  I can't say that it affected me during surgery because I was under general anesthesia.  But, I know that I've relied on breathing since the surgery to help me get through the anxieties of recovery (pain, discomfort, worry).

So now, I hope to move from guided mediation to silent meditation.  I'm making this transition for a number of reasons.  First, I want to merge meditation with prayer.  I believe in God, I believe in Jesus, the only Son of God, and I believe in their presence in my life.  I've read one thought that prayer is us talking to God and meditation is God talking to us.  I want to be silent and listen.  I want to stop talking so much (and that can be a real challenge for me).

For the last week (I know, a WHOLE week), I've attempted to meditate. As I've read, the thing I struggle with most is the thoughts crowding my mind.  I'm using a mantra of sorts - "Be still and know that I am God" (Psalm 46: 10).  I begin with my breath - through my nose, expanding my belly with the first breath and making that "airy" noise in the back of my throat as I exhale.  Once I settle in with my breath, I begin my mantra.  So far, so good!

Then, the thoughts begin floating in like a virtual to-do list - don't forget to email that student back, the car radio needs repaired, why was my daughter so emotional this morning (I better fix that).

Today, I talked with those thoughts and told them that they were important, but that their time would come.  I asked them to step aside because God might have something to say today.  About 25 minutes later, I snapped out of some other state (something similar to sleep, but I'm not sure I was sleeping).  I don't remember any other thoughts.  I don't remember hearing God, either.

Some days I offer a prayer, that God will help prepare me to listen, that my mind and heart will be opened for her (Yes, I said her.  We'll get to my problems with the patriarchy some other day).

Some days I see a distant white light.  I try to focus on it and with each passing thought the light gets dimmer or shuts out completely.  Interestingly, I'm being patient with this process.  I'm not frustrated that I haven't been able to completely quiet my thoughts and that I can't see more of that light, that it won't come closer.  I've never been good with silence and I'm even worse at sitting still.  So, I guess I'm looking at these meditation moments as success (not where I hope to be, of course) rather than failures.

So, I will keep trying...

Setting the direction

As I slept last night, blog entry after entry came to me in my sleep.  I'm amazed at how writing can clear my mind for new and meaningful thoughts to enter in.  There's so much to write and each entry removes a question from my mind, answered or not, to create space for another amazing thought process.

I've been sharing my blog entries with my husband and he's asked good questions.  I'm not sure that he truly understands where I'm going with this personal journey, but I don't know that it would be fair to expect him to.  It's not that he doesn't want to understand, it's just that...

it is my journey fueled by an inner yearning for patience, peace, and understanding 

it is a personal incompleteness that experiences frustration each Sunday morning as we sit in church 

it is an uncontrollable urge to be transformed and to look to God for that transformation

it is a desire to look within me for this personal and transformative connection - no longer within the ways that I've traditionally been fed spiritually (worship and music).  I'm by no means abandoning those methods.  They are important, but no longer enough.  

So, in answer to my husband's questions, here's what I'm after (my goals, if you will):

• A closer and deeper connection with God, one which is transformative*
• A sense of peace which can help me become more patient, more understanding, better at listening to others and the world around me
• A stronger connection to nature and our human connection with nature
• A deeply rooted foundation on which I can raise my children, one which I can articulate and translate for them

Transformative: by this I mean, a process through which I can change those traits I own that limit me, hurt others, and drive distance between me and God.  For example, I know that I can be very judgmental. I come by this honestly and it has served me well in my career and in my life, but I also know that I cannot turn this off and at times, this characteristic can deeply wound and hurt those I care about.


The first step of my journey...

Preparing for the Journey

So, I've tried meditation a few times and haven't really figured it out.  I've read a lot about it and read a lot of stories and blogs from folks who have learned to meditate.  I've read their struggles and trials and failures and successes.  Today, I purchased two books - one about meditation from a secular perspective and one about meditation from a Christian perspective.  Now I will anxiously await that brown box with the amazon.com label which will contain my two crisp new books.

Here's the thing, I am not great at reading non-fiction.  I had to read The Ghost Map for work this past summer - a very well written, non-fiction story about how science, faith, and the overcrowding of a city led to the discovery of the causes and treatment of cholera in London, England.  It was a good book, but I dragged my feet every night as I headed to bed for my coveted 15 minutes of reading.  I loved the interdisciplinary perspective and the way the book wove a myriad of scholarly areas into one story - science, politics, sociology, ministry, and more.  But, I HATED reading it. 

One thing I know is that uncovering God within me will require a similar kind of difficulty and discomfort - all things worthwhile do.  Perhaps this may be the most uncomfortable unearthing of my inner self ever.  Perhaps that is what I fear the most in trying to share my devotion between faith and family.  

As a family unit, I feel that we are on pretty solid ground these days. We know our routines, we know each others roles in the family unit, we know how to support and challenge each other, we know what's expected.  We also know each others shortcomings and weaknesses, including my short fuse and lack of patience (one of the weaknesses I hope to change in my search for deeper relationship with God).  But, if I begin this transformation in Christ, how will this change our family unit?  Will we be stronger and more grounded?  Will things get so scrambled that we will fall apart?  How many stories I've heard that involve the transformation of one and the dissolution of the family.  I don't want THAT to happen to us!

And so, more questions, but those will come another day...

Getting Started

And so it begins...

I've never blogged.  I've never even really journaled.  But, I'm fascinated by the idea and I have a lot of big questions floating around my mind.  With a husband and three small children, a full-time job, and lots of community involvement, I don't make time for those bigger questions.  For some reason, lately, those questions are growing louder and louder and I know I need to take the time to make sense of them.  That's just the way my mind works.  Those ideas, thoughts, questions, dreams will get louder until they drown out everything else.  So, I'm at a point in my life where I don't want to drown out what is currently important  - my family, my work, my faith.  The good news is most of the questions pushing their way around my mind are connected to these three priorities, mostly my family and my faith.

Let's start with this question first:  

Can I be devoted to God and devoted to my family at the same time?

I had a conversation with my father the other day about those individuals I admire for their strongly rooted faith and seemingly divine connection with God - the Dalai Lama, Mother Teresa, Saint Angela Merici, Elizabeth Gilbert (tentatively).  I admire their ability to find peace in and with themselves, to pray and meditate devoutly, to transcend the complexities of their minds and this world.  I admire their ability to see other religious points of view without disdain, animosity, or superiority.  I love their ability to connect people across cultures and across faith traditions to focus on the needs of those less fortunate than ourselves.  These people embody everything I think my faith should be.  The trouble is "all these people" don't have families.

When the rubber hits the road, I don't have 1-2 hours to meditate or pray, I can't leave my family and job to travel to an Ashram for 3 months, I can't immerse myself in research and reading the teachings of Buddhist and Hindu monks, Yogics, or other enlightened souls.  So, how do I achieve the depth of faith that these role models have?  Better still, how do I do this in a way that my family can learn from me and share in this faith connection?  Are these ideals (focus on family and depth of faith) really at odds with one another?

I told you, lots of big questions...and the answers to these will come another day.