Covid Journey: Christ With Me

The following blog post is part 3 of my journey with Covid this summer.

During the journey, I ended up in the emergency room with breathing difficulty and high blood pressure.  It was my 60th birthday – not exactly my idea of a party.  After a variety of tests and examination, the physician told me that one of the blood tests indicated that the pumping of my heart had been affected by the virus.  All I could think was Daddy’s cardiomyopathy started when he was in his early 60’s.  I knew his road for the next 20 years – one that involved multiple medicines and procedures.  When I moved the scales to our kitchen to monitor my fluid retention, I remembered Daddy doing the same thing.  My fears were quickly taking me down this road. 

Thankfully I was not admitted to the hospital.  “Take the fluid pills and rest.”  I began to feel better in a few days.  Yet, the fear of damage to my heart still nagged at me.  Was my heart pumping like it should?  Was this the beginning of long-term cardiomyopathy?  Was this something that would go away? 

From my journal – 8/12/20 – Yesterday I had the echo and an EKG.  Good results!  No issues with my heart – function has returned to normal!

Thank you, Lord.  It’s still going to take time to be 100% – yet it can happen slowly – I am so thankful for the community of faith.  So many people rejoiced with me. 

One of the holy moments yesterday was the medical assistant who checked me in.  She talked with me, asked all the questions necessary (including what I did for a living) and then she said she was going to do an EKG.

Then her voice became very quiet and she said, “and while I do this test, I want you to say Psalm 91 to yourself and then I want you to remember Isaiah 53 – ‘by His stripes you are healed.’ ”

She was looking at me directly, eye to eye.  She said “You are accustomed to give and give to others.  Now you need to receive.  Receive the healing – receive the blessing – Yes, you have symptoms and yes, God is with you.”

It was like God was speaking directly into my soul through her.  God – You were indeed doing this – speaking directly into my eyes.  From behind my mask, I told her if she could see my mouth, she’d know that I was smiling.  She said she could see it in my eyes.

Lord Jesus, thank you for this holy moment!  It was so reassuring.  So important in the moment!

It was not preachy words to me – She was with me – She was Christ with me!

The medical assistant had no knowledge of my nagging fears.  She didn’t know that I was imagining a path of long-term cardiac issues.  She didn’t know that I was fearful of having stamina to coach, lead a retreat, play with future grandchildren, plant flowers or just walk upstairs without shortness of breath.  She didn’t know how my fear was clouding my future. 

She simply responded to God’s movement within her and allowed herself to be an instrument of Christ.  She didn’t preach to me.  She didn’t “guilt me” that I shouldn’t be fearful.  She just reminded me that Christ was with me.  Indeed, she was Christ with me.

She will never know how Christ used her in that moment.

She responded to Christ’s leading.

May I do the same.

Covid Journey: The Prayers of the People

The following blog post is part 2 of my journey with Covid this summer.

Journal entry – July 30 – We are definitely better.  Praise God!  Noah and I are both feeling better.  I could smell my soap this morning!  I couldn’t taste my coffee but maybe tomorrow!

I’ve been thinking about all of the prayers of the people.  It’s another time in my life when I couldn’t pray and needed the prayers of the faith community. 

The prayers of the faith community have often been water to my thirsty soul.  Sometimes the prayers of others have been my link to God when I have been unable to pray.

When I was in Divinity School, Noah and I lost a child in miscarriage.  We were devastated.  I was angry with God.  I could not pray. I did not want to pray. 

During my recovery, my worship and liturgy professor called and offered me two thoughts that I have held close to my heart over the past 30 years. 

 “Trish, when you can’t pray, pray the Psalms.”

“Trish, when you can’t pray, this is the time you let the faith community pray for you.”

So many people were faithfully praying for Noah and me while we were sick.  Covid isolates people physically – as evidenced by the sign on our front door warning of entry into our home:  “Warning:  Do Not Enter.  We have Covid.”  The sign did not stop the community of faith from texts, emails, calls, cards and prayers.  People that we will never know were praying for us, not because of us, but because of YOU . . . the people of faith who believe in prayer.  People from all over the county, maybe the world, prayed for us. 

That’s what the faith community does.  They pray for one another and with one another.  I’ve experienced those prayers when I’ve been sick, tired, thankful, searching, angry, afraid . . . in all times. 

Thank you for believing that God hears the cry of our hearts.  Never underestimate the hope and love that others experience through your prayers – the prayers of the people of God.

Thanks be to God for you and your faithful prayers.

Covid Journey: Tears in Your Bottle

For many years, I have journaled my prayers, thoughts, questions and experiences.  I’ve never shared any of these writings.  Actually, I’ve joked with Noah that when I’m gone from this earth, he should promptly burn all of my journals.  Lately I’ve been thinking that maybe there’s reason to hold onto the journals.  Maybe they will give my grandchildren or great-grandchildren a glimpse of my spiritual struggles and joys.  Some entries are not “pretty”.  They clearly show my junk.  They also reveal my desire to follow Jesus and understand more fully who God is calling me to be.

As I’ve journeyed through Covid-19, I have continued to journal.  Some days I was too sick to write.  Some days I didn’t want to write.  Yet, through all of it, God journeyed with me.  

I should say that these are my thoughts and prayers – not Noah’s.  Yes, we were sick at the same time and sometimes we voiced to one another some of the same sentiments.  Yet, I don’t write for him.

The Psalms express the emotions of humanity.  We hear the cry of the heart in these sacred words – the pain of suffering and the joy of praise.  They give us “permission to express our own words of anguish, anger and praise.  With this permission in mind, I share portions of my journal as I journeyed through Covid:

July 10 – Holy Lord, thank you for this day. . . Noah just left to get tested for Covid . . . Lord Jesus, protect us – keep us dependent and reliant on You. 

July 11 – Holy Lord, thank you for this day . . . Noah and I are in quarantine for at least 14 days.  We are both sick – similar symptoms . . . Lord, may this time be a time to draw closer to you in all the ways I can.  Help us to be wise.  Lord Jesus, it’s going to be a lot of time in stillness – self-imposed – may I sense your presence and peace in the midst of quarantine.

July 13 – Lord, I’m just having trouble thinking clearly.  Help me hear You, O Lord.

July 15 – I’m just so tired, Lord!  My chest feels tighter today – my lungs are getting a workout with Covid.

Scripture for day – Psalm 56:8 – “You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle.  Are they not in your record?”  (NRSV)

You’ve kept track of my every toss and turn through the sleepless nights.  Each tear entered in your ledger.  Each ache written in your book.” (The Message)

O Lord, what a great Scripture for today.  This is a great reminder that you know how we feel.  Thank you, O Lord!

July 18 – Holy Lord, it’s been 3 days since I have written in my journal . . . Noah and I have been so sick with Covid.  We are still not on the other side of it but I pray we are moving towards it.  There have been a few times that I have just cried – that I thought I would not make it.  I’m probably being a little dramatic . . . I just feel so bad.  So does Noah.  Help us, Lord, to get energy.  How long, O Lord, how long will this last?  Help us, Lord, help us to recover.  Give us your healing power.  Thank you, Lord!

July 25 – Holy Lord, it’s been a week since I’ve written anything in my journal.  Every day Noah and I have had fever.  It’s been such a journey and we want to be on the other side of it.  . . . Lord, help us keep our eyes and heart on you and you alone.  Thank you, Lord!

July 29 –  Noah and I are moving forward in the Covid journey.  We pray the meds start to help with our breathing. . . I’m praying we will soon feel better.  Cognitively I pray for return of my concentration so that I can do all the things I’m called to do.  Thank you, Lord, that you have been with us through this entire ordeal.  Help us, Lord, to continue to trust you.

July 31 – This is the first day since July 10 that I’ve sat at my desk to write in my journal.  My handwriting is not good because I’m so shaky.  My breathing is still not good.  My concentration is not good.  Just help me take it one day at a time. 

Colossians 1:11-12 – We pray that you will have the strength to stick it out over the long haul – not the grim strength of gritting your teeth but the glory-strength God gives.  It is strength that endures the unendurable and spills over into joy . . .  (Message)

Thank you, Lord, for these words!

August 2 – I sat down yesterday to write in my journal for my 60th birthday.  I was reading James 5:13-18 and my breathing was getting faster.   Noah checked my respiration rate and my blood pressure . . . I spent the afternoon in the ER.

I wasn’t scared in the ER – more wishing Noah was with me.  He had to just drop me out at the ER.  I kept hearing a phrase from my prayer time on Friday – “filled with all the fullness of God” – (Ephesians 3:19)

August 7 – Today marks 4 weeks since Noah and I were diagnosed with Covid. . . It feels so long ago – I think because we’ve been so sick.  Noah’s back to work.  I’m trying to get that way.

It’s been a journey.  Some days I sensed God’s presence so close that I felt as if I could touch Him.  Other days I wondered: “Where are you, God?  Please make this go away!  I’m so OVER this!” 

No matter the emotion, God knew my struggle and “caught my tears”.  Even if I felt alone, I was not alone.  My heart aches for the number of lives that have been lost to this horrible virus.  As I write this post, I am praying for my friend who is currently on a ventilator.

I don’t know why some people have few symptoms, some are very sick, and some lose their lives.  The only thing I know for sure is that God is with us – in the pain, in the sorrow, in the joy. 

Thanks be to God!

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Note:  This post is the first of three related posts.  The other two posts are forthcoming.

Could Not He . . .?

“Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”

This question leapt out to me in my time of reading this morning.  A question of why couldn’t Jesus heal Lazarus?  We just saw him heal the man born blind in John 9.  Why didn’t Jesus do a long-distance prayer to Bethany and heal Lazarus before he died?

But that’s not what happened.  Lazarus does die.  People don’t understand.

The question of “could not he who . . .” struck me this morning because my guess is some folks might be saying “could not God who resurrected Jesus from the grave stop this COVID-19 pandemic?”

The short answer is yes.  The longer answer . . . for me is much more complicated and yet very simple.

My thought (and this is my thought.  If you disagree with my thought, that’s your thought):

The longer answer for me:

God sometimes does that instantaneous healing miracle.  One word and the healing happens.   Evidence in scripture – evidence throughout history.

My experience is that God calls us to “participate in our healing”.  We take the medicine.  We practice good health habits.  We practice social-distancing or maybe a better word “physical-distancing”. *   We wash our hands.  We think of others when we are shopping for bread or sugar or gracious, toilet paper!

None of us have been through what we are going through right now.  I’ve said several times this week that I feel like I’m going to wake up and it’s going to have been a dream.

But we are awake.

We are living through a time like never before.  I would not be telling you the truth if I didn’t say it makes me uneasy – to say the least.  Every time I see the news or an alert comes across my phone or my watch, I feel that uneasiness.  Every time I watch the stock market descend or the emails come to say my favorite stores are closing temporarily, I feel that uneasiness.  Then I remember that there are people – my friends, my family, my favorite server – who are touched by the latest alert.

It became very real in one simple action this week when my husband shaved off his beard that had been there for a LONG time so that he would have a good seal on his mask when he worked at the drive-through respiratory clinic (for people with concerning symptoms).  That’s real, folks.

Yes, I believe that Jesus can and does heal AND I believe that He calls us to be part of the healing for ourselves and for others.

So, what do we do?

  • We remember what we already know. The God who journeyed with his people in the desert for 40 years is the same God who journeys with us now.
  • We hold on to the faith that sustains us in the midst of all of life.
  • We hold on to the love that says, “nothing will separate us from the love of Christ Jesus.”
  • We pray – for all, particularly for every medical profession you know and those you don’t know. They are doing the very best that they can in the midst of an ever-changing landscape of health information.
  • We hold on to each other. Be comfort to one another.  Be the person who calls someone else to say I’m praying for you.
  • And my clergy friends, know that you are not alone as you figure out what to do. Support one another and know that I am praying for you.
  • And congregations, pray for your pastor. She or he is taking care of you AND they have family and friends who need them.

So back to the initial question of “could not he who . . .?

If you read on in John 11, Jesus does heal Lazarus.  He is resurrected.

Jesus says, “take away the stone” and people move the stone

(even though Martha reminds Jesus how much this will smell).

Jesus asks the question, “did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?”

Jesus commands “Lazarus, come out!”

Jesus tells others “unbind him and let him go.”

This healing involved Jesus, Lazarus and the others.  Jesus commanded, Lazarus obeyed, and others participated.

May it be so for all of us.

 

*”Don’t call it ‘social distancing’  – opinion article by Menjivar, Foster and Brand.  CNN, 3/21/20.

 

 

Before I Knew Your Name

It’s been at least 14 years ago.  I remember being at Aunt Nancy’s house and noticing an empty frame on the table that held family pictures.  Why would you have an empty frame in the midst of pictures of children, grandchildren and other family members?

Then I noticed a sign on the frame that indicated that this frame would one day hold the picture of the child that her daughter (my cousin), Jennifer, would adopt.  Aunt Nancy didn’t know the child’s name, yet she hoped and believed that one day she would see the face of the child for whom she prayed.  One day she would know his or her name.

And indeed, one day Jennifer flew to Guatemala and welcomed her baby Joshua into her arms.  Soon Aunt Nancy would have a picture for that empty frame.

I too have been praying for someone for a very long time.  I didn’t have an empty frame in our house.  I didn’t know her name.  I just prayed for the person who might one day be my daughter-in-law.  And now I know her name:  Angel.

On Saturday, November 9, Will and Angel will stand before God, family and friends and commit their lives to one another in the covenant of holy marriage.

Angel came into our lives about this time of the year 2 years ago.  Well, she came into Will’s life a few months earlier, but he didn’t tell us.  When I found out that he was dating someone, I tried to get a name from him . . . a little information.  But, in true Will Archer style, I got nothing.  (He can keep a secret like no other.)   When I asked him to tell me about her, he said “No, Mom.  I know you.  You will google her!”  True.

Then we were invited to a friend’s wedding and Will invited Angel to go with him.  “Ok, Will, you can’t introduce the “world” to Angel, and I haven’t met her!”  So, he granted my plea and we met the “mystery woman” for dinner at the Longhorn Steakhouse.  We could see that Will was smitten and very quickly so were Noah and I.

I give thanks for the love that I see between Angel and Will . . . for the looks of love and care between them . . . for the laughter, for the joy and most of all, for the abiding faith in Jesus that the two of them share.  I’ve married many couples in 21 years of ordained ministry and my consistent word in premarital counseling is the power of Jesus’ presence in marriages.  My prayer is that Will and Angel will always know the power of God’s love and strength during the good times and the not-so-good times.

Today I know the name of the one for whom I’ve prayed:  Angel.  She is a beautiful woman of God who loves our son and is deeply loved by him and by Noah and me.

Thanks be to God!

Oh, by the way, Angel’s photo is framed along with all of the other family members.

“For it was you who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.  I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.  Wonderful are your works; that I know very well.  My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth.  Your eyes beheld my unformed substance.  In your book were written all the days that were formed for me, when none of them as yet existed.”                      – Psalm 139:13-16

Furniture with Memory

Sometimes bedroom furniture is more than furniture.

Recently Noah and I gave an old bedroom suit to some friends whose home was flooded by Hurricane Florence.   We were happy to share with them!

The night before the move, I cleaned out the last of the stuff in the dresser drawers and dusted off the top.  As I did so, the memories poured into my mind.  You see, this was my childhood bedroom suit.   I don’t remember sleeping in any other bed as a child.

I thought about . . .

. . . the nights as a child that I would call out to Mama or Daddy to come cover me up.  I was too scared to move.  I don’t know why!  Maybe I thought the monster under the bed would know I was awake and come after me.  After all, you never let your hand or arm hang off the bed low enough for the monster to see it.

. . . the childhood and then later teenage sleepovers with Elizabeth, my best friend

. . . the many hours of conversations between Elizabeth, Mary Lou and me about all those things that teenage girls talk about

. . . the carving found on the top of the dresser – “P + T” – (Patricia + Tommy, 5th or 6th grade boyfriend).  Rather sure my brother carved those initials that are still visible on the dresser.

. . . the various apartments and homes that have housed that bed and dresser – Norlina (2), Chapel Hill (6), Durham (2), Natchez, Wilmington (2) – twelve different places if I’m remembering correctly

. . . and maybe because Will is about to get married, I remembered lying in that bed in the little upstairs bedroom in our Natchez home on the night before he was born, having contractions but not wanting to wake Noah yet who was sleeping peacefully downstairs.  Well, I don’t know if he was peacefully sleeping.  He was probably feeling the vibes that I was putting out because of the pain!

These are memories that I haven’t thought of in YEARS!  I wasn’t having second thoughts about giving the furniture away.  I was just amazed at the memories that the furniture opened in me.

Isn’t it amazing how objects or places open us up to new thoughts?  Recently I began meeting with a spiritual director and even though we’ve only met twice, I am already seeing the power of centering prayer, of pondering spiritual questions, and of thinking about God’s movement in my life. We’ve talked about the power of “place” to bring us closer to God – to open us up to new thoughts.  So often I find the noise of life – both literally and figuratively – leaves me closed, unaware or unavailable to receive or hear God’s voice or God’s movement.

Yet, sometimes, when I sit at my desk – my place – something opens in me and I hear a new word.  A Scripture verse that I’ve read dozens of times is read with new eyes.  A bird sitting outside the window sings a song that I actually hear on this day.  Maybe just for a few moments there’s an openness for God’s voice and movement.

It makes me wonder what I need to do to stay open to the nudge and voice of Christ continually.

Maybe it’s just stopping.  Maybe it’s just remembering. 

Maybe it’s just going to my place. 

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Epilogue:  On Saturday morning, my friend came with her daughter and a few other family members.  Any possible doubt that I might have had in the deep places of my brain was completely gone when I saw how excited her daughter was at having this bedroom furniture.  She was so thrilled to have a BED!  She had been sleeping on a couch for over a year and now she had a place to call her own.

The story got even better when I received the 2 pictures of the furniture actually in her bedroom.  I hope Samantha and her cousin will make even more memories that will lodge in their minds to be opened 50 years later.

 

 

What If?

Today we are waiting for hurricane Dorian.  Someone on Facebook said that “waiting for a hurricane is like being stalked by a turtle.”  Yep!

Like many in Wilmington, we are stocked with water, flashlights, batteries, Oreos, Chips Ahoy and a little patience.  We have all devices charged and have a generator in the garage that was never taken out of the box last year.  By the time we were able to get home after Florence, our electricity was back on.  We bought the generator as we journeyed home from Winston-Salem because we might need it.  What if we don’t have electricity when we get home?

It seems that life before a hurricane is filled with “what ifs?”  We fill up our cars with gas prior to a storm because what if the gas pumps don’t work after the storm and we need to go somewhere?  We clear off the deck because what if the wind picks up the table and crashes it into the sliding glass door?  Yet experience tells us that these are good responses to the what if question.

The what if? question goes beyond a hurricane.  It’s really the question that is repeated over and over throughout life.

What if my decision is the wrong one?

            What if the job doesn’t work out?

            What if the lump is malignant?

            What if they find out exactly who I am?

            What if they find out what I’ve done?

Most often it’s the question that is rooted in fear.  Fear of the unknown, fear of others, fear of the lack of control.

Yet – suppose – what if? – we centered our lives in God’s what if question.

God asks:

                        What if you believe me?

                        What if you trust me?

                        What if you let go and quit hanging on so tight?

                        What if you forgive?

                        What if you ask me to help you?

Maybe the answer to the what if question is to remember.  Over and over, God instructed his people to remember.

“Remember the days of old . . . who brought you up out of the sea . . . who put His spirit within you . . . who divided the waters before you . . . who led you through the depths?  Like cattle that go down into the valley, the spirit of the Lord gave them rest.”  – Isaiah 63:11-14

Instead of asking myself the what if question rooted in fear, I pray to ask the what if question rooted in God’s amazing love.

Francois Fenelon writes: “Oh, how much better are we sustained by love than by fear!  Fear enslaves, constrains and troubles us; but love persuades, consoles, animates us; possesses our whole soul, and makes us desire goodness for its own sake.” * 

What if I believe you, O God?  What if I trust you, O Lord?   May it be so.

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Prayer Request –

I invite you to join me in prayer and support for all of those who are suffering and have lost so much in the hurricane, especially those in the Bahamas.  Also be in prayer for first responders and those who offer assistance to so many.

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*Quote from Selections from the Writings of Francois Fenelon, found in A Guide to Prayer for All Who Walk with God © 2013, p. 320.

Pieces on the Path

I enjoy jigsaw puzzles.

I love the challenge of figuring out how all of the pieces fit together to create the picture on the box.  I enjoy the sorting and the arranging.  Most of all, I enjoy that sense of accomplishment when the final piece is put into place and the picture is complete.

I enjoy the puzzle that comes in the box.  However, it’s the puzzle from my iPad app that is more convenient – no pieces to fall on the floor or be eaten by Hank, the dog.  It is no fun to be almost done with a puzzle and realize that there’s a piece that is half-chewed or completely missing.

Usually when Noah and I are watching tv, you will find me also working on a puzzle.  (I think it drives Noah a little crazy that I’m doing several things at once, but why do one thing when you could do two?  Unfortunately, my puzzle work prevents watching any show with sub-titles. Smile.)

Whether it’s a puzzle from a box or a puzzle on the iPad, my usual reaction to beginning a puzzle is:  this is going to take forever!  There does not seem to be any rhyme or reason in the pieces.  They are just a jumble of colors of all sorts.  They look nothing like the picture of the finished puzzle.  However, gradually it comes together.

My plan of puzzle solving:

  • First put together all of the edges to make the frame.
  • Sort the pieces by color.
  • Look for commonalities.
  • Refer to the picture.
  • Look at the shapes of the pieces.
  • Refer to the picture.
  • Try a piece.  If it doesn’t work, try another piece.
  • Refer to the picture.
  • Put pieces together in smaller portions.

Piece by piece, color by color – the picture is revealed!

It’s making choices, looking at the whole, being patient, not giving up, looking for common threads – piece by piece, it comes together.

We might even call it discernment.

The word discernment comes from the Latin word “discernere” which means ‘to separate’, ‘to distinguish’.  Reminds me of a puzzle.

In their book, The Way of Discernment, Stephen Doughty and Marjorie Thompson, write:

The word, ‘discernment’, denotes an activity or process. It suggests that when we yearn to find what is right and fitting, there will be a means to do so. On the most elemental level, to discern is to sort and sift through the possibilities when we face a variety of choices. It is to distinguish and separate alternatives. . . From beyond ourselves we begin to hear, ‘Look, there is a way you can follow that leads toward greater understanding. There are steps you can take that will open you to the clarity you seek.’ We stand before the forest of our own wonderings. Then bit by bit, we become aware of a path through the forest.

In discernment, like a puzzle, we see a jumble of possibilities – some good and some not so good.  We sort. We arrange. We look for common threads.  We look at the picture. In discernment, the picture is God’s preferred picture.

Bishop Rueben Job writes “practicing a preference for God and God’s will is the place to begin . . . Begin practicing a preference for God and you will discover a growing capacity to receive and respond to God’s direction of your life.”

It’s sorting, arranging, and choosing the next piece, all with a prayerful spirit, that reveals the path in the midst of the jumble.

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Dougthy, S.V. and Thompson, M.J. The Way of Discernment. Participants Book. Nashville:  TN:  The Upper Room Books, 2003.

Job, R. P. A Guide to Prayer.  Nashville, TN:  The Upper Room Books, 2013.

Choosing Words

“I don’t like myself when . . .”

Some will read this statement and say:

“Trish, this is not a very positive way to start out a blog!”

“Trish, why don’t you like yourself?”

“Trish, you teach appreciative inquiry and this is NOT an appreciative statement.”

Well, that’s true and that’s why I’m writing it. It’s NOT a statement that should be my focus and thus, I have the opportunity to change this reality.

We get more of what we focus on.

I returned home yesterday after four days at St. Francis Springs Prayer Center helping to facilitate coach training with ministry colleagues from Louisiana, North Carolina, Kentucky and Georgia. We’ve been working together since last fall (as Hurricane Florence was approaching – yikes!), meeting each month in online learning and this week concluding our training time. Every day we spent time reviewing theories, practicing coaching and reflecting on what we were learning together. We started and ended each day in theological reflection and prayer, drawing upon words that have guided our training together. Listen. Be filled. Love. Prepare. Learn. Conspire. Trust.

For sometime, I have had some angst in my soul. I couldn’t put words to the way I was feeling. It has just been there. This feeling that something was just not right. Someone looking onto my life would say: “What?!? You have a wonderful loving husband, son and soon-to-be daughter-in-law.” Yes, all that is very true. I am blessed beyond measure! Yet, inside . . . angst in my soul.

The word “authenticity” has been swirling in me. Authenticity in life, in practice and in faith. Does this word describe who I am?

On Tuesday morning of the retreat, my colleague was sharing in our morning devotional time and said, “I don’t like myself when . . .” That phrase just stopped me in my thought tracks. I really don’t remember what was being said before that statement or what was said after the statement (sorry, coaching friends!). It was a moment of understanding that became clearer as I reflected with my practice coach. I don’t like myself when I am inauthentic, when I’m fake, when I’m not true to my convictions and my desire to follow God’s leading. I don’t like myself when I focus on the negative, when I’m judgmental, when I expect things of others that I’m not willing to do myself, when I’m filled with resentment . . . I could continue for a while with these statements.

So . . . I can continue in this place or I can choose other words and actions to define who I am – who God says that I am.

I am choosing new words.

At the beginning of the year, I wrote the statement: “I choose to rejoice in You, Lord!” as my prayer for the year. I have not done a very good job. I have not done a lot of rejoicing. Sure, I can blame lots of circumstances, other people, the denomination, politics – again, the list could go on. YET, in the midst of this I have choices to make. What is my focus? I get more of what I focus on.

Friends, I’m choosing joy. Joy does not mean that I will be happy all of the time. That’s not joy. Joy means that in the midst of the junk of life, I can choose to be authentic, I can choose to be true to God’s leading, I can choose to be thankful, I can choose people and circumstances that bring joy to me. Yes, there will be circumstances and people who will “try me” (as a child, I heard this phrase when I was getting on my mom’s last nerve!), yet I have choices in my response.

I choose to rejoice in You, Lord!

 

“And what do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul? Is anything worth more than your soul?”                                 Matthew 16:26 NLT

Why I’m Pruning Social Media

I have a love/hate relationship with social media. It can be a source of joy – celebrating the birth of a new baby, wishing a friend happy birthday, enjoying wedding pictures, enjoying my own family and our celebrations . . . endless possibilities. It can also be a place of connection to friends and family so that I can pray with someone in their loss or pray for someone in their sickness.

Social media can also be a source of unrest, anxiety, hurt and mistrust. The stories that appear and worse yet, the comments that are written do not create peace in my soul. And my friends, I need peace in my soul. The anxiety-provoking subjects of social media are diverse – politics, the UMC, how someone parents, the latest crime story . . . again, endless topics.

For several weeks, I’ve been thinking about my need to stop social media in my life, at least for a season. Last year during Lent, I stopped Facebook and made it through without this source of information. This year I’ve decided to stop Facebook and Twitter starting now through the season of Lent. When Easter comes, I’ll evaluate the decision.

The reasons for stopping? Here’s the top two:

1) Removal of social media is a spiritual discipline, freeing my time so that I might utilize it in a more life-giving ways.

2) Social media is just not good for my brain and my soul. Yes, there are some examples of stories and comments that touch my heart and mind. However, most of what I read on social media causes me to be angry, sad, anxious and wondering “WHAT?” If I read the comments under the stories, the feelings intensify.

Two weeks from today, I will head to General Conference of the United Methodist Church to be part of a vote that has implications for all God’s people. I want to spend my preparation time in ways that uplift me. Social media doesn’t do that for me right now.

So I’m pruning social media.

This past Christmas, a friend gave me a thought-provoking little book called The Vinedresser’s Notebook: Spiritual Lessons in Pruning, Waiting, Harvesting and Abundance by Judith Sutera. The author uses the experience of tending the vineyard to share spiritual lessons learned in her work.

Sutera writes:

“We practice sacrifice so that our spiritual lives can be more fruitful . . . The world will not become peaceful for us; we have to find our interior peace within the world. The irony is that this peace comes not from having things go more our way but from cutting away at what is disturbing from inside us . . .We will not wake up someday and find everyone around us lovable, but we can prune away our impatience and intolerance, our bad habits and behaviors, and practice the discipline of love. . . . We are what we think about. If we let go of what is not spiritual, we will be slowly but surely transformed. When an elderly sister was asked the secret of her apparent calm and happiness, she replied, “It started when I realized I didn’t have to have an opinion about everything.” (pages 72, 73, 74)

My prayer and my desire is to be a person of peace and calm, a non-anxious presence in a world that is swirling with anxiety, a person that doesn’t have to have an opinion about everything.

May it be so, Lord, may it be so.

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P.S. One more comment on social media – When reading anything on social media, please, please, please check the source. There’s a difference between facts and a sound bite. For all of you who are United Methodist folks, this will especially be true now and in the coming weeks.

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Sutera, Judith. The Vinedresser’s Notebook: Spiritual Lessons in Pruning, Waiting, Harvesting & Abundance. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2014.