Who Is Weaving My Identity?

Who Is Weaving My Identity?

Expectations.  They are woven into the fabric of my identity, like a background operating system that runs silently under the surface and yet can have a profound impact. This is something God’s been inviting me to explore lately.

I have expectations of myself.  I think that’s a good thing.  It’s good to have goals, standards, hopes, and dreams.  However, sometimes my response when these expectations aren’t met is not a good thing.  When I get disappointed with myself, my compassion towards me is diminished. My inner critic grows. Sound familiar?

Want to Go Back

Want to Go Back

Early the other morning, as I was coming out of centering prayer, I heard a young child crying outside my open window. I live on the fourth floor of a five-story building in a relatively quiet suburb. The wailing went on for quite some time.

I have two young adult children and I've “been there” with the crying toddler, so I tend to avoid gawking. But she sounded so distraught. I finally stepped out onto my balcony to make sure she was okay.

Abiding Together

Abiding Together

A devoted commitment to knowing God, self, and others requires what Eugene Peterson called “a long obedience in the same direction” in his book by the same title. I like this phrase because it speaks to the reality that is abiding. Our journey through life with God never ends and always begins. This is the Alpha and Omega of the eternal Christ who orchestrates the evolutions of faith moment by moment, day by day. And it is the work of the abiding Spirit within that continues to lead us on this sacred path.

Marinating A Life

Marinating A Life

Puttering in the kitchen is always a source of joy for me. Yet, after all this time, I am still intimidated by preparing meat. There is so much one must do right to get a good result as opposed to the latitude there is when making soup. I can work really hard and end up with meat that is flavorless, tough, and disappointing, especially considering the time and effort expended! To offset my meat-cooking limitation, I have learned the magic of marinade.

Tsumani: Hope and Grief Unleashed

Tsumani: Hope and Grief Unleashed

Our teenage son is diagnosed with Down Syndrome, autism, and speech apraxia. In his eighteen years of life we have only ever heard him utter one or two words that we could understand. We did years of speech therapy, he learned sign language, and he has a communication device. Yet nothing has given our son the ability to express himself beyond wanting a Coke or a milkshake.   


We have prayed his whole life that he would be able to speak–to tell us where he hurts, let us know how he’s feeling, or what he would like to do for his birthday. We would have dreams in which he spoke in full sentences only to wake up and find it wasn’t real. We told ourselves, “This is as good as it’s going to get but it's ok, we love him no matter what.”

A Small Sea of Listeners

A Small Sea of Listeners

A few years back, I said yes to something I rarely say yes to: a last-minute invitation. Honestly, though, I sometimes don’t say yes to first-minute invitations, either. Weeks or months in advance, I’ll buy a ticket to a concert or ballgame and then, day of, hem and haw about going... more than a few times content to stay put, and savor the moment I’m already in.

But following this particular last-minute yes, I found myself in a small sea of listeners, at Seattle’s Benaroya Hall, while two men in armchairs, bathed in warm theater light, chatted on stage. The interviewee, writer and farmer, Wendell Berry. And while I don’t recall most of what he said that night, I do remember how I felt, listening.

Heart, Desires, and Secrets from Spiritual Direction

Heart, Desires, and Secrets from Spiritual Direction

Allow me to share a memory of my later-in-life calling, the moment when God winked at all my training, self-assured insights, and hurried prayers within just a few minutes of welcoming a directee for the very first time.   

It was ten years ago this month. The little church library where we would meet had more sofa chairs, more arms and legs, than a Macy’s showroom. Open the blinds. Turn on the heat. Check my soul. I then let out one, long breath prayer to a flickering tea candle, the wall clock, and Jesus. 

God Our Ophthalmologist

God Our Ophthalmologist

The flat terrain of ordinary days is as transformative as the extreme peaks and valleys we journey, a journey with January as a natural starting line for most. Identifying as an enneagram four type, sometimes described as a "frustrated idealist," I inevitably find my attention drawn to what is lacking, what needs a fix. Envisioning beauty and goodness propels me to keep working toward solutions, while other times I spiral into discouragement. The results can be helpful responses or harmful reactions. Working and praying with this wisdom for over a decade now, I know this tendency touches every corner of my world.

A Shoot Will Grow Up

A Shoot Will Grow Up

I am one who loves Christmas and contemplates “how early is too early to start with the music and decorations?” I also don’t want to crowd out Thanksgiving celebrations with too much too soon!  What has emerged over the years to honor both desires, is a genre of music I call “pre-Christmas music,” and just one “pre-Christmas” decoration. This decoration comes out well before Advent. It is a plain gray stump that I set on my counter along with Thanksgiving pumpkins. 

 This stump leads to my pre-Christmas meditation based on Isaiah 11:1:

       A shoot will grow up from the stump of Jesse; a branch will sprout from his roots. 

Being the Beloved

Being the Beloved

“Being the Beloved” is a familiar saying in the Christian tradition and especially among those of us who are spiritual directors.  Yet while I was recently sick with Covid 19--my mind was still clear and not totally jumbled, I did some reading.  In the book Spiritual Direction by Henri Nouwen, Henri used a guided meditation composed by Arthur LeClair.  In a brief form it goes like this:

 

For ten minutes say the words Jesus, You are the Beloved

For another ten minutes say the words, Jesus, I am the Beloved

Finally, say the words, Jesus, we (all) are the Beloved.