On Becoming

Becoming is hard. Not in the sense of being born, or aging, or having another year fly by (like really FAST!), but in the sense of transforming--that internal expansion that can at one moment seem glorious and in the next, traumatic. Soul-work is what I have recently labeled it--and it is not easy.

I remember hearing a wise, wonderful woman share with a group of worn-out clergy about the soul. She compared it to a skittish animal in a wild woodland forest. When visitors come tromping through the wood, with loud bangs and bright flashlights, the soul scurries for safety, hiding until the unexpected foreigners depart. The soul is skittish, shy and profoundly vulnerable. It takes care and gentleness to even find the soul, long before you even begin to work with it. It may sound funny to say that we need to "find" our soul, but in my experience, I find that statement to be quite accurate.

My soul was well hidden behind all sorts of masked attempts to cover up my self-worth issues--also known as coping mechanisms, defense mechanisms, or whatever other psychological term you need to use.

My soul was excellent at survival though; consider this quote from Parker Palmer.

“Like a wild animal, the soul is tough, resilient, resourceful, savvy, and self-sufficient: it knows how to survive in hard places. I learned about these qualities during my bouts with depression. In that deadly darkness, the faculties I had always depended on collapsed. My intellect was useless; my emotions were dead; my will was impotent; my ego was shattered. But from time to time, deep in the thickets of my inner wilderness, I could sense the presence of something that knew how to stay alive even when the rest of me wanted to die. That something was my tough and tenacious soul.”

Parker J. Palmer, A Hidden Wholeness: The Journey Toward an Undivided Life

How did I learn about this soul-work? Well, sadly, I wish I could say that seminary taught me all about soul-work.  Ironically, seminary struggles still to help students balance both spiritual formation and academic formation. Though it might seem to most that seminary would focus on the former, that is not the case in most cases.

Particularly for folks like me--my therapist said to me one day, after several appointments of getting to know me, "Heather, you have a high cognitive ability, and a very low emotional functioning ability." In normal words, "Heather, you cope with the world with your brain alot, but have very low emotional coping skills."

So, seminary worked well for me. Really well.

But in the realm of spiritual formation, somehow or another, I was missing something.  I read all the books. I even did all the suggested spiritual practices, like the books said. Something was missing. Though I hesitate to identify spiritual formation as simply "emotional" (that's a whole other blog post), I might explain that "emotional" here is better expressed as "vulnerable". And the current reigning expert on vulnerability, though I know there are more, is Brene Brown.

Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen. ~ Brené Brown

My becoming began, when I was invited into a circle of people, who also were trying to figure out who they were, and we all were invited to find our souls. And this work, as a word of caution, was at some cost. Cost to my ego, my perfectionism, my agenda, my plan. Finding my soul was both the best thing that happened to me, and the worst.

Finding my soul takes space. Space to reflect, to pause, to consider, to rest. To look and listen for God, away from the busy-ness and mind-numbing pace of life. To create space to hear God from a place of rest and openness. I had to choose to get off the hamster wheel of "doing" to experience "being".

Finding my soul took grace. The ever-present, mysterious grace of God in Christ that was with me, ever single step of the way, in the darkness and in the light. The grace that was with me on the hamster wheels of my life, and the grace that was with me when I chose to create space.

Finding my soul takes community. Together with other imperfect human beings, I found that at the core we all were searching for very similar things. Being, belonging, worth, identity, and authenticity. And we desperately need each other in this process.  Jesus didn't command us to just love God, but to also love one another. This latter part is one we often overlook or choose to forget. Perhaps because it's messy and hard. Well, people are imperfect. I choose to daily get over that and love them anyway.

Becoming is hard, but here's the best part. You don't really have to work at it; it's more about letting go.

Mission Trip in the middle of a Semester, Am I Crazy?

"Are you crazy?"  Yes, I am crazy. I have never argued the depth of my insanity.  After all, I spend unnatural lengths of time studying greek participles, IBS structures, while trying to wrap my feeble brain around much of my lighter weekly reading (usually 200-400 pages) on the subject of the Atonement. I'm a seminary student.  That's how we roll. We are a crazy bunch of people. Seminary students, everywhere, do I hear a "heck yeah"?

So, is it so crazy that I managed to squeeze in an eight day mission trip to Panama in the middle of the semester? I didn't think it was crazy almost a year ago when the plans were set in motion; in fact, I was stoked!  I am traveling with a dear friend, who has a long, amazing family history of missionary work in Panama and Cuba.  It is a privilege to be joining her on this great adventure.  There will be preaching.  There will be teenagers (yes!).  There will be seminary students (yes!!!).  BONUS: We're going to camp on the top of a mountain! Ok, the only way to get up the mountain--climb. So, there will be climbing of large mountains too.

Most importantly however, there will be God, waiting for us to join Him in His work in Panama.  For that is why we go, right?  I mean, there are bigger things than just me, leaving my family, my pile of books and homework assignments, to go on a mission trip.  God is doing something, and I get the privilege of participating.  Yes, the pile of books (200-400pps of reading X 2) and projects/papers (X 4)will be waiting, and will have multiplied, upon my return. That will indeed be painful and challenging.

But in the bigger picture, I am doing the better thing in going to join my Lord in His Work. This reminds me of the story of Martha and Mary in Luke's gospel:

She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. ⁴⁰ But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”

   ⁴¹ “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, ⁴² but few things are needed—or indeed only one.^[f] Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.

 Sometimes I'm  Martha, scurrying around like a chicken with my head cut off, trying feverishly to get it all done that needs done.  After all, Martha had guests coming! I have professors who demand the work be turned in, on time.  This work must get done. And it must be done with excellence!   That is Martha's heart, right?  She really just wanted to do something great for Jesus, but she got lost in the details for the Master, rather than simply being with the Master.  Seminary is important--it is a great privilege to be participating in this great ministerial equipping that is seminary.  These things too will be used to build God's Kingdom. But can the "doing" trump being at Jesus' feet? Mary had it right then, and I think it must have caught Martha off-guard.  The Text doesn't tell us the rest of the story, does it?  What is Martha do? Did she stop and join her sister? Did she get mad for not being recognized for her efforts to have a great party for Jesus? Or was she a little embarrassed that she had missed the greater opportunity to be in the Master's presence?

We do things sometimes for the wrong reasons.  We all want to do great things for God; indeed, we are called to that as ministers of the gospel message of Christ.  Nevertheless, we must never divorce the "doing" from the "being".  We are in Christ first, loving Him, worshiping Him, so that we can go out and be His Hands and Feet in the world.  The papers, the greek participles, the IBS structures, will all be there when I return, but the seeds that are planted in Jesus name while I am in Panama are eternal.  Those seeds will someday manifest something that is far beyond my degree plan or my credentials as a minister.  That something is divine and holy, and wholly God's.

Call me crazy, if you wish. I'm going to join my Master in His Work.  The other stuff can wait, for a little while. Call me crazy.

Hello 2011. What's New? Part 3

Click to see Part 1 or Part 2.

If there is one word that people, in my small circle of influence, could use to describe me, I think it would be passionate.  I am deeply, vocally and transparently passionate.  I like to do stuff.  Ι am always doing something. I am a runner. I am a creator. I am an inventor.  I  really like to be doing something.  When I am not doing something, I get antsy and irritable.  Like any extrovert, my energy tank gets filled when I am working with people, engaging in a task or project (particularly if it's inventive, new, or edgy), and like any good ENFP (Myers Briggs label) once the task or project is born and functioning, I get bored.

So what does "PJ time" have to do with the resuscitation of my soul? After a very intense semester of seminary, along with a bevy of other familial and personal obligations, I found myself completely exhausted, and I completely disengaged.

I don't know about you, but I have to be intentional about finding balance, even after several good years of counseling for my own issues and dysfunctions (yes, we all have them to some degree).  Either I am too engaged in a project, or not enough.  Where is the balance? Is it necessary to spend five hours in the GNT, when I know I have another project that needs my attention more? What am I trying to prove to myself, or whoever else might be watching? Bottom line: I like to win. I like the spotlight. I am competitive. I like acclaim. I want to be the best. Now, in the context of American culture today, these characteristics may be considered good.  Someone might be overheard, saying, "Wow, she's got confidence! She's assured of herself! She's gonna make it!" After all, the world out there is sometimes eat or be eaten, right? But I am called to another standard--God's standard of living.  And my ego has no place in that framework.  The gospel is the anti-thesis to human conceptualizations of ego, power and wisdom. The gospel says the last will be first, and the first last.  The gospel tells the story of twelve disciples who really wanted Jesus to be someone He was not, simply because of their ego issues. Read about it in the Gospel of Mark. Jesus was always trying to teach them the way of Discipleship through His actions. 

So, over the holiday break, I practically lived in my PJ's.  Our kids did too.  It was truly wonderful.  What PJ time did for my soul was to remind me about the point of living.  And it has nothing to do with what I do or what people expect me to be, rather my life should be centered upon who I am in Christ.  I had a wise friend remind me of Acts 17:28: ^"for in Him we live and move and exist, as even some of your own poets have said, 'For we also are His children.'"  I am God's kid, and He desires me to look to Him for everything.  For approval. For affirmation. For discipline. For wisdom. For help.  Anything in the human experience! I have the bad habit of trying to do these things for myself, and when I do, it isn't long before I royally mess everything up. Trust me--don't try it. It ends bad, every time.

You would think that I would remember these things, but then again the Israelites were constantly building themselves piles of rocks in order to remember things--like the crossing of the Red Sea! You think that was a significant experience for them!? Yet they still had to build a pile of rocks.  We humans are forgetful, ego-maniacs.  Yet, we are each made in the image of God.  And He genuinely cares and loves us--even when we're forgetful and ego-maniacs. And it is in Him that I find my identity; not in the grades I get, or the papers I write, or the projects I participate in.  All of these are good things, but apart from God, they are nothing.

It's important to find time to disengage from the world, just for a little while. I know some people who choose to disengage from email, cell phones or Facebook, just for a little while. Jesus would disengage from the task at hand to go and be with his Father, just for a little while.  Why?  Just like an extrovert needs people to get their tank filled up; humans need to be in the presence of God to be filled with Him.  For it is "in him that we live and breathe". 

Peace.

Hello 2011. What's New? Part 2

To see Part One of this three-part blog update, click here.

Yesterday, I wrote a rather lengthy update regarding what I label my resuscitation of the soul through three areas: Greek (see yesterday's post), Writing, and PJ Time.  The last one, I am certain, you are most curious about because what could PJ's have to do with resuscitation of the soul? More than you know, but that subject will have to wait until Part Three.

Today, I write about "writing".  I have been a writer since I can remember learning to write.  There is something cathartic about writing for me.  Ever heard of "Chicken Soup for the Soul", well, that is what writing does for me.   I am not an avid journaler, however, which often surprises other writers. Writers typically like to "write" anything--whether it be a review of a good book or personal reflections in a journal.  I however do not journal, only because I do not like hand-writing (literally writing with my hand! LOL!)  I much prefer typing, so perhaps, in a way, this blog could be perceived as a journal of sorts. :)

In early November, a curious thing occurred. I had a very unexpected, new idea. Writing a blog. I don't usually follow blogs, except those blogs that I happen to come across by chance.  Not that I dislike blogs; it just wasn't a consideration. When the idea came to me, seemingly from out of nowhere, I mentally set it aside, labeling it "random", while a series of dialogues coursed through my mind:  "I don't have time to be writing all my thoughts on a blog."  "Who wants to read what I have to say anyway?"  "What would I write about?"  "Why would I write about them?"  "Who really cares what I think?" "What would I say that matters to anyone else?"  Then, one day, in one of my classes, a conversation began on the subject of the American Church and faith, particularly a concept called Moralistic Therapeutic Deism.  It was an intriguing idea, and one that I wanted to share with others, more importantly one that I wanted to engage in dialogue over.  I really wanted to know if anyone else, besides my fellow seminarians and professors, knew about this rather insidious infection in the Church.  And like a random, but gentle, raindrop from the heavens, a quiet whisper came--"why not write about it? on a blog?"  I thought, a little cynically, "Oh not that blog idea again!"

There moments in one's faith walk with God when you know you are supposed to do something.  I am not talking Determinism here, but rather there is a profound sense that God wants you to do something--and He really means it!  Like, when I was a child, my parents would often ask me to do things--chores, tasks, whatever--and sometimes they really meant it.  Like not touching a hot stove, or not running into the street without looking--get my gist, here? So, if I chose (I emphasize CHOSE) to obey, then all would be well; but if I chose not to, the outcome could be quite painful (for me!).  The instructions from my parents were not restrictive but rather provisional in concern and care. Make sense?  So, when I awoke the next morning, I knew that God was sending me a very clear message; it was up to me to respond. Begrudgingly, I googled "blogs" and surprisingly, about ten minutes later, I was the owner of my very own blog site.

Fast forward about seven blogs updates later, I find I am enjoying this whole blog thing.  I think it's the writing. I had forgotten how much I enjoy writing.  And from what I understand from others, I am fairly good at it. Well, look at that?  Who knew? Writing is cathartic to my soul.  It is like "chicken soup" for my soul.  And my soul was in need of restoration. And who knew that writing was yet another element to my resuscitation?  Really, need I say Who?!

Just like God knew that Greek would be an effective way for me to engage a truly wonderful gift, given by Him to me, the same was for my writing.  I think He is helping me to see me better, and in that process, I am letting go of all of the other stuff that I have "tacked" onto myself, which seems to stick out like some bad costume jewelry. Things, tasks, jobs, roles, etc. that I "tack" onto myself, based on man's expectations or desires, just don't seem to fit.  They are ugly and heavy and awkward. But things, tasks, jobs, roles that are of the Spirit of God, ahh, this is where wisdom comes from, right?  This is the really good stuff of God.  We can only access it through His power and wisdom. Sounds scriptural to me! Take a look for yourself in 1 Corinthians 2.

Peace.