do you find yourself watching the news and feeling fear rise higher than the sea level of your soul? do you find yourself holding your breath wondering what's next?
does it ever catch up with you and pin you down?
what do you do? turn off the news? only to look around and see that there is plenty to fear right here around you?
how do we not just give into the fear? how do we not just manage the fear by numbing it...turning on the latest sitcom, scroll Facebook, eat more...
is our only hope that we can just ignore the cries of the suffering in our world? how do we know where to begin when suffering is everywhere. and the news is like a zoom in lens...searching for the suffering to blare into your living room and heart
and soon our hearts either burst or become numb. what can I do? it's too much. too much for me to know what to do
I find myself angry...pointing fingers at the president. pointing fingers at "them", maybe even shaking my fists at God. if only "they" would stop our world would be better. we want to blame someone, anyone, for the suffering.
but are we left with nothing to do except make a sign and protest? is that all there is? we are told that we need to get off our lazy rears and get out there. shake our fists at the oppressors. change the world.
fear. fear. fear.
it's everywhere.
fear. fear. fear.
here, there, everywhere
even our answers are marked by fear
caught in the whirlwind of fear I react. I cannot see straight. I see the problem. I see the haters, the oppressors, and I want them to be gone. I want justice. and all I can see is the urgency of fixing the problem. act now.
but in the middle of the hurricane is the eye of the storm. literally the place where it is calm. the storm rages all around, but in the center there is peace.
stillness.
when we are caught in the storm we become a part of the storm. even our best intentions, they can be full of confusion. when we react to the storm, we create our own storms. when fear becomes anger and rage and hatred...we are allowing our hearts to become a new storm
a storm does not end another one
there is another way. step outside of the storm, or find yourself in the middle. when we know our center, and our hearts remember what is true...we have something to offer. when we have a hold on true north, the way forward, we have something true to offer. we will not create a new storm. we will offer a way forward, a way that is marked by peace, by love
but it looks slow. it may feel slow. it may not even be noticeable. everyone stirred up by the pain, the suffering, the rage, the brokenness...
but he speaks "peace, be still" to the storm. and we must step aside and hear this voice so that we can be this voice in our world
taste the peace, know the peace, and you will be the peace, you will have the peace to offer
but when you become the storm, you will create another storm...
Jesus, divine love,
we find ourselves in the middle of a storm.
all we see
all we feel
is the rage of the storm
and one storm seems followed by another
sometimes there is hardly a breath or pause between
what can we do?
how can we keep going?
is it ok to step aside and rest?
to hear that you are with us?
will this be enough?
will I have anything to offer others...
We cry out, Lord, help us!
It's too much
help us to not run away
help us to not give up
help us to not be reactive
Show us how to be your light
your peace
your love
Our world is starving
broken
hurting
suffering
But you are light
love
hope
peace
Show us the way
Thursday, August 31, 2017
Friday, August 25, 2017
at water's edge
It seems like I'm in a season of invitation to surrender, let go, and trust. To let life flow, and not resist the flow. The opposite of flowing is resisting and not being ok with what life brings. When I resist I fight the waves that come, I brace myself against the unknown, tensing my body, my mind and my soul against what I perceive as danger.
We live near the ocean. My boys love to go to the beach, and there are weeks when we make it there five days out of seven. Growing up in Oklahoma, my comfort level in the ocean is nowhere near these two boys who run out into the waves with arms outstretched. I watch from my safe beach spot as they run head on into the crashing waves. The days when the ocean is calm, I dare to venture in with them. But on these evenings when the ocean waves are high (as high as their heads) I watch in wonder. These boys get pummeled by the waves. Sometimes the waves knock them down, sometimes they crash over their heads and yet they remain standing. Sometimes the boys get their boogie boards and ride the waves in. The ocean is never dull, that is for sure. I am always amazed to sit and watch the power and beauty of water.
When we lived in Laos we observed the Mekong River. On one side was Laos, and on the other side was Thailand. Unlike the ocean, we really couldn't get into the river. It was dark brown, murky waters coming from China. While a lot of the brown was probably from the red soil beneath, I doubt that is all that the river was bringing our way. When the monsoons came we watched the river swell to fill the large gap between Laos and Thailand's banks and the waters passed quickly by. The Lao were afraid of the river--with good reason. But they respected it. We learned to respect the river as well. I love the sight of water, but I rarely stepped into the river. We saw many beautiful sunsets over the vast horizon of the river. It was a place of beauty and a reminder that we weren't just living in a big endless sprawl of a city. The city had an end at the river's edge.
And then there are creeks. I love creeks. I grew up in Oklahoma where creeks were a childhood delight. We would make our way to Colorado in the summer and the cold mountain water would become a child's invitation to play. Taking my shoes and socks off I would dip my feet into the cold water. But the nice thing about a creek is it is usually shallow on the edges. And you can see the bottom. Of course, if you venture in you better be careful or you might slip on a rock!
Water is a symbol used in many cultures and religions. It symbolizes cleansing, renewing, baptism, life. Babies are held in water until they enter our dry world. Water flows through our veins. And water is what we need to sustain our lives. As I write this I am aware of being thirsty (where is my cup of water?!) Water invites us to step in. As I sit on the water's edge there is something in me that wants to step in, to feel the water, to let it cool me, refresh me, take me out beyond the dullness of my controlled life. But often our response is hesitation and resistance. We find excuses. I don't want to get wet! I just washed my hair, I don't want it to get salty! I have clothes on, I forgot to wear my swimsuit. I am afraid because the waves look scary. Sitting here is safe (and yes, a bit boring). But what has happened? The children are still running in, excited to feel the waves crash into them. I am always in awe when a big wave pushes my youngest son down. Usually he gets back up with a smile on his face--"give me more!"--he seems to be saying! Boring? Not at all.
But fear--it doesn't want to get up out of the place of safety. Fear is like the dam that keeps the raging river controlled. It resists the natural flow of water, holding it back. But the pressure of the dam is high. The waters press into the dam with force that requires the dam to be stronger.
But sometimes I am weary of the dam. I need the flow of the water. The healing flow of saying yes to what is natural. To trust that I can let go and step in and I will be ok. I don't have to brace myself against the flow. Let the river flow. Let the waves come and crash into me. I may fall down, but I can get back up. Is that the sound of laughter and life that I hear? Is that the sound of letting go and saying yes?
We live near the ocean. My boys love to go to the beach, and there are weeks when we make it there five days out of seven. Growing up in Oklahoma, my comfort level in the ocean is nowhere near these two boys who run out into the waves with arms outstretched. I watch from my safe beach spot as they run head on into the crashing waves. The days when the ocean is calm, I dare to venture in with them. But on these evenings when the ocean waves are high (as high as their heads) I watch in wonder. These boys get pummeled by the waves. Sometimes the waves knock them down, sometimes they crash over their heads and yet they remain standing. Sometimes the boys get their boogie boards and ride the waves in. The ocean is never dull, that is for sure. I am always amazed to sit and watch the power and beauty of water.
When we lived in Laos we observed the Mekong River. On one side was Laos, and on the other side was Thailand. Unlike the ocean, we really couldn't get into the river. It was dark brown, murky waters coming from China. While a lot of the brown was probably from the red soil beneath, I doubt that is all that the river was bringing our way. When the monsoons came we watched the river swell to fill the large gap between Laos and Thailand's banks and the waters passed quickly by. The Lao were afraid of the river--with good reason. But they respected it. We learned to respect the river as well. I love the sight of water, but I rarely stepped into the river. We saw many beautiful sunsets over the vast horizon of the river. It was a place of beauty and a reminder that we weren't just living in a big endless sprawl of a city. The city had an end at the river's edge.
Water is a symbol used in many cultures and religions. It symbolizes cleansing, renewing, baptism, life. Babies are held in water until they enter our dry world. Water flows through our veins. And water is what we need to sustain our lives. As I write this I am aware of being thirsty (where is my cup of water?!) Water invites us to step in. As I sit on the water's edge there is something in me that wants to step in, to feel the water, to let it cool me, refresh me, take me out beyond the dullness of my controlled life. But often our response is hesitation and resistance. We find excuses. I don't want to get wet! I just washed my hair, I don't want it to get salty! I have clothes on, I forgot to wear my swimsuit. I am afraid because the waves look scary. Sitting here is safe (and yes, a bit boring). But what has happened? The children are still running in, excited to feel the waves crash into them. I am always in awe when a big wave pushes my youngest son down. Usually he gets back up with a smile on his face--"give me more!"--he seems to be saying! Boring? Not at all.
But fear--it doesn't want to get up out of the place of safety. Fear is like the dam that keeps the raging river controlled. It resists the natural flow of water, holding it back. But the pressure of the dam is high. The waters press into the dam with force that requires the dam to be stronger.
But sometimes I am weary of the dam. I need the flow of the water. The healing flow of saying yes to what is natural. To trust that I can let go and step in and I will be ok. I don't have to brace myself against the flow. Let the river flow. Let the waves come and crash into me. I may fall down, but I can get back up. Is that the sound of laughter and life that I hear? Is that the sound of letting go and saying yes?
Thursday, July 27, 2017
love song
in the stillness you are there
Five years ago I sat having coffee with an older wiser friend. I had been sharing my struggle with anxiety and expressing my longing to be free (hoping that maybe she had an answer for me). I don't remember much of our conversation that day, but one sentence she said stood out. I can still remember the words now, and I have reflected on them and what they meant many times since then
"Lori, your heart is noisy."
My heart is noisy? What does that mean? I really pondered this and wanted her to explain. She didn't have much explanation. And her words came from a deeper listening, a listening to God and what he was wanting to speak to me (but that I couldn't hear...because my heart was too noisy)
Be still and know that I am God
Our world is full of noise. Everywhere we go our ears pick up conversations, children crying, parents yelling at their children, cars driving by, an ambulance, phones dinging, and then there is the subtler but VERY LOUD noise in our lives...social media, Facebook, news. The messages that we are hearing everyday, from the time we wake up until we go to bed at night. The thoughts that go through our heads. Noise inside. Noise outside. Noise within us. And sometimes sleep doesn't come to relieve us because the noise in our heads is so loud and we don't know how to turn it off.
We cannot escape noise. It will always be around us. So what does it mean to have a noisy heart? A noisy heart is our response to the noisy world. It tells us to be afraid, do more, be more, "you are not enough"...
a noisy heart is a heart full of fear
It took many more years for me to begin to really let go. I don't think anyone lets go easily. Until our hands and hearts and lives become so full and we are weary and desperate, letting go is not our go to. Instead we think "maybe I will try this, or buy this, or do this...and things will get better" only to discover we are even more tired. It might work at first, but then we discover now we have something new to deal with.
more is not better
more is not the answer
What is?
be. still.
In 2015 I had a nervous breakdown, or whatever you want to call it. Whatever it was...it was scary. I had been trying to fix my son's health. I had been working hard to figure out what was at the root of his health issues. I was in major control mode. Fear mode. Noisy heart? YES! And finally the weight of it all came crashing down on me "I can't do this anymore!!!!" I heard myself say. I was mad at God for not healing my son. I was frustrated that I couldn't figure out how to heal my son. And it was TOO heavy for me to carry. And so I fell flat on my face, truly flattened by the weight of it all.
be. still.
When you are anxious and full of fear it is nearly impossible to be still. I know because when anxiety was filling every extremity of my body I could barely sit still long enough to finish a meal with my family. I would eat fast and then have to stand up and busy myself with dishes, or pacing or doing something. I could not sit peacefully. My whole being was revved up. And yet I was very tired.
be. still.
So so noisy. So so tired. I was truly desperate. I longed for healing, for freedom, for peace. I had no more resources of my own to draw from. I called out to God in desperation. "Help!" It was not an instant relief. But in the stillness, God was there. He began to show me just how near and present he was. And just how loved I was.
in the stillness I am there
God met me. Slowly. Patiently. Lovingly. And that was the beginning of my journey towards a quieter heart. A heart that was desperately wanting to rest. A heart that was so weary it felt it might break. A heart that had holes in it, leaked out its life... But this was only the beginning. God is not pushy. He will not force us to learn something we are not ready for. He does not yell at us like an angry parent. He just waits. Waits for the noise to crash down, our own attempts to come to a empty halt, and then we notice...in the valley of the shadow of death...He is there. Quietly, confidently, unfailingly...He is there. And as we quiet down, like a child that is finally allowing his mom to comfort him...we hear something new. It is not like the noises in our world. It is sweet. It is gentle. It is kind. It is his love song. He is singing over you. Singing over me...a love song.
The Lord your God is with you. He is mighty to save you.
He takes great delight in you.
He quiets you with his love.
He rejoices over you with singing.
(from Zephaniah 3:17)
be. still.
let me sing over you
your heart will be healed
fear will no longer linger
your heart will be free
rest in my arms
as I sing this song over you
my delight is in you
be. still. and. know.
beloved child of mine
rest
Five years ago I sat having coffee with an older wiser friend. I had been sharing my struggle with anxiety and expressing my longing to be free (hoping that maybe she had an answer for me). I don't remember much of our conversation that day, but one sentence she said stood out. I can still remember the words now, and I have reflected on them and what they meant many times since then
"Lori, your heart is noisy."
My heart is noisy? What does that mean? I really pondered this and wanted her to explain. She didn't have much explanation. And her words came from a deeper listening, a listening to God and what he was wanting to speak to me (but that I couldn't hear...because my heart was too noisy)
Be still and know that I am God
Our world is full of noise. Everywhere we go our ears pick up conversations, children crying, parents yelling at their children, cars driving by, an ambulance, phones dinging, and then there is the subtler but VERY LOUD noise in our lives...social media, Facebook, news. The messages that we are hearing everyday, from the time we wake up until we go to bed at night. The thoughts that go through our heads. Noise inside. Noise outside. Noise within us. And sometimes sleep doesn't come to relieve us because the noise in our heads is so loud and we don't know how to turn it off.
We cannot escape noise. It will always be around us. So what does it mean to have a noisy heart? A noisy heart is our response to the noisy world. It tells us to be afraid, do more, be more, "you are not enough"...
a noisy heart is a heart full of fear
It took many more years for me to begin to really let go. I don't think anyone lets go easily. Until our hands and hearts and lives become so full and we are weary and desperate, letting go is not our go to. Instead we think "maybe I will try this, or buy this, or do this...and things will get better" only to discover we are even more tired. It might work at first, but then we discover now we have something new to deal with.
more is not better
more is not the answer
What is?
be. still.
In 2015 I had a nervous breakdown, or whatever you want to call it. Whatever it was...it was scary. I had been trying to fix my son's health. I had been working hard to figure out what was at the root of his health issues. I was in major control mode. Fear mode. Noisy heart? YES! And finally the weight of it all came crashing down on me "I can't do this anymore!!!!" I heard myself say. I was mad at God for not healing my son. I was frustrated that I couldn't figure out how to heal my son. And it was TOO heavy for me to carry. And so I fell flat on my face, truly flattened by the weight of it all.
be. still.
When you are anxious and full of fear it is nearly impossible to be still. I know because when anxiety was filling every extremity of my body I could barely sit still long enough to finish a meal with my family. I would eat fast and then have to stand up and busy myself with dishes, or pacing or doing something. I could not sit peacefully. My whole being was revved up. And yet I was very tired.
be. still.
So so noisy. So so tired. I was truly desperate. I longed for healing, for freedom, for peace. I had no more resources of my own to draw from. I called out to God in desperation. "Help!" It was not an instant relief. But in the stillness, God was there. He began to show me just how near and present he was. And just how loved I was.
in the stillness I am there
God met me. Slowly. Patiently. Lovingly. And that was the beginning of my journey towards a quieter heart. A heart that was desperately wanting to rest. A heart that was so weary it felt it might break. A heart that had holes in it, leaked out its life... But this was only the beginning. God is not pushy. He will not force us to learn something we are not ready for. He does not yell at us like an angry parent. He just waits. Waits for the noise to crash down, our own attempts to come to a empty halt, and then we notice...in the valley of the shadow of death...He is there. Quietly, confidently, unfailingly...He is there. And as we quiet down, like a child that is finally allowing his mom to comfort him...we hear something new. It is not like the noises in our world. It is sweet. It is gentle. It is kind. It is his love song. He is singing over you. Singing over me...a love song.
The Lord your God is with you. He is mighty to save you.
He takes great delight in you.
He quiets you with his love.
He rejoices over you with singing.
(from Zephaniah 3:17)
be. still.
let me sing over you
your heart will be healed
fear will no longer linger
your heart will be free
rest in my arms
as I sing this song over you
my delight is in you
be. still. and. know.
beloved child of mine
rest
Friday, July 7, 2017
ode to 41
happy birthday to me.
what's so special about 41? it's not 40, it's definitely not 21. no...it's 21 PLUS 20 more!!
but i still get excited when it's my birthday, and i'm not letting 41 stop me from my childhood anticipation of a birthday.
so happy birthday to me, even 41! I will not pretend to be younger. I will celebrate another year. getting older is seen as scary. but me, I want to embrace it.
I found my first grey hair at 20. I pulled it out. No! I don't want to be old. But there it was, beckoning me, taunting me, reminding me that getting older is....ummm, natural.
so why fight what is natural?
celebrate it
celebrate me
celebrate life
here I am at 41 feeling young inside. so much goodness has happened in my life these past few years
I have found myself. I have shed off some of my false layers. Like a facial to the soul. I feel freer. Lighter. Happier. YES! happier. how can that be? I'm 41 you say. Nope, 41 is a good number. It's my number today.
So go ahead and wonder, is she going crazy? maybe age is getting to her early. maybe she had a little too much to drink. You can wonder. But I know. I am 41, and it's ok. I'm 41 and it's not a day too old. Today I am soberly happy. And I don't mind telling you, or anyone, that it's truly good to be aging.
And grey hairs? YUP, I got WAY TOO many to pluck on this birthday. They are sparkling in the sunlight. Not even hidden by color. Just there to remind me, I'm not going backwards in my age.
Nope...just forwards.
So, happy birthday to me.
Happy birthday to the one I know best. Me.
And I am happy to be alive. Happy to be me. Thank you for bringing me this far.
Happy birthday Lori!
what's so special about 41? it's not 40, it's definitely not 21. no...it's 21 PLUS 20 more!!
but i still get excited when it's my birthday, and i'm not letting 41 stop me from my childhood anticipation of a birthday.
so happy birthday to me, even 41! I will not pretend to be younger. I will celebrate another year. getting older is seen as scary. but me, I want to embrace it.
I found my first grey hair at 20. I pulled it out. No! I don't want to be old. But there it was, beckoning me, taunting me, reminding me that getting older is....ummm, natural.
so why fight what is natural?
celebrate it
celebrate me
celebrate life
here I am at 41 feeling young inside. so much goodness has happened in my life these past few years
I have found myself. I have shed off some of my false layers. Like a facial to the soul. I feel freer. Lighter. Happier. YES! happier. how can that be? I'm 41 you say. Nope, 41 is a good number. It's my number today.
So go ahead and wonder, is she going crazy? maybe age is getting to her early. maybe she had a little too much to drink. You can wonder. But I know. I am 41, and it's ok. I'm 41 and it's not a day too old. Today I am soberly happy. And I don't mind telling you, or anyone, that it's truly good to be aging.
And grey hairs? YUP, I got WAY TOO many to pluck on this birthday. They are sparkling in the sunlight. Not even hidden by color. Just there to remind me, I'm not going backwards in my age.
Nope...just forwards.
So, happy birthday to me.
Happy birthday to the one I know best. Me.
And I am happy to be alive. Happy to be me. Thank you for bringing me this far.
Happy birthday Lori!
Saturday, July 1, 2017
too quiet
Once I arrived home, I found the first few days to actually be a gift of time. The first two days passed quickly as I dove into art projects and reading. And then I got a text from Pete..."it looks like we won't be home until Sunday, the weather isn't looking good to cross on Wednesday." Four days alone was one thing...but four more days alone?!!! And they wouldn't be home until late on my birthday? It was hard for me to swallow this information. Hard to be ok with the idea of four more days of...quiet.
As I sit and write this, it's the day before they come home. Somehow, I have been ok--even good. I have found projects to do. Rooms to clean. Books to read. Friends to spend time with (lots of girl nights!). But the loneliness has crept in when I come to the end of a day. I have had moments where I haven't really known what to do with myself. Do I read now? Do I go shopping even though I really don't need anything? Do I clean the house? Do I use my time for something fun? With all this space and time I have way too much time to entertain "what should I do?" than I am comfortable with. It feels easier to be told what to do, dictated by circumstances, needs of others, than to face the question of "now what?"
This morning I woke up with the gnawing awareness of boredom...or is that loneliness? I felt annoyed at Ruby (our puppy) for whining and demanding attention that I wasn't in the mood to give. I made myself coffee as I faced yet another quiet morning to myself. I should be thankful I told myself!!! But that is not how I was feeling. I went upstairs to continue my major cleaning project in the boys room. As I sat there I was very aware that something was blocked inside me. All I had felt so far was annoyed at my needy dog who was demanding way too much emotional energy that I did not have to give her. It started to sink in...I'm needy. I need attention. I...am...lonely. As I allowed myself to say these words, tears came. Yes, that is it! I'm lonely. But in that moment I knew the answer was not to rush and call someone or find a person to be with me. I just needed to let myself acknowledge my deep loneliness. And as I noticed this, to make it a prayer. "God, I feel lonely." And I could sense his response. "I know, and it's ok." The tears, and this silent moment was all I needed. Somehow it freed me to be able to go downstairs and take my dogs on a walk--and to not feel so annoyed with them. Because I am needy. I need to know I am loved, I am known, I am not alone. But in order to know this, I have to acknowledge what I am feeling. It's not about making the feelings go away, or ignoring them, or minimizing them. It's simply about making space to notice what's there. To be honest with myself. I think it was a relief to be able to say "I am lonely" without feeling judged or condemned or weak or "what's wrong with you?" Just a "yes, I know, and I am here with you." Somehow admitting how I feel makes it seem less threatening, and less of a problem to fix. It's ok to feel lonely. It's normal to feel lonely.
And yes, when the boys get home tomorrow evening I am going to miss the quiet. haha!
Friday, June 30, 2017
a love story
what story lines do you believe that are not true, and yet they feel true? what do you believe about yourself that is hurting you, holding you back from freedom in your life? what have you clung to because it feels safer to believe it than to challenge it?
anytime we put a label on someone, we are defining the title of their story. we are telling them "you are..." and these can be either positive or negative. yet, when we label someone by a single characteristic we limit them for good or bad. and even if we have good intentions "you are so young and beautiful" we are telling them "don't get old or ugly, because your value lies in the fact that you are so young and beautiful." we don't mean to define people. we don't mean to trap people by the labels we put on them (well, sometimes we do...just not always). but when we define people by only parts of their person, we limit people. they forget the whole of who they are. you and I have forgotten who we are. and we must be reminded time and again who we really are. the problem is, who knows who we really are? who can remind us in our amnesia supported by a culture that loves to define us by parts of our self?
I often have been defined by adjectives like "serious, good listener, smart, wise, nice, kind, good..." those are the positive labels that have defined my story line about myself. but then there are the less positive labels--"anxious, fearful, worrier, dull, plain, serious..." whether you agree with these doesn't really matter, because it's what we believe about ourself that is ultimately what defines how we live. how we relate to others. how we go about our lives. so sure, you can tell me something nice to try and change my negative self-perceptions, but if I don't believe you then I will probably smile kindly and just say internally "whatever...if you only knew this about me..." or I might say "you have to say that, you're my friend/mom/husband."
so how do we change our story-lines about ourselves? we have to get to know who we really are. we have to look in a mirror that shows us our true self. the mirror that doesn't show us the masked self. the mirror that has no cultural biases, no perception of what we should be. just the mirror that sees the inner created person we are. and I will add that no one will want to look in this mirror unless we know that this mirror is held by a loving Creator. I sure don't want to look in a mirror that is out to tear me down, hurt me, shame me, point fingers at me...
but a mirror held by the One who loves me? ok, I will dare to look in that mirror. yes, a mirror that says "I see your belovedness when I look at you." a mirror that says "you are loved. you are beautiful. you are enough. you are mine." that is the mirror of truth that will change our story-lines. that is the mirror that challenges our labels and beliefs that hold us back, keep us down, oppress us, shame us.
I want to look in this mirror. I want to see myself in this light. but I cannot look in this mirror without being changed. each time I dare to look at myself the way this mirror sees me, I will not be able to continue to believe the old story-lines that I have somehow adopted. I will be forced to challenge those beliefs that say "I'm not quite enough. I am too plain. there is something wrong with me. I can't let others know the true me..."
sometimes it feels safer to keep on believing our story-lines. we have found safety and comfort in the voices of people who have defined us. to challenge these story-lines feels uncomfortable. what will I do if I start believing I am loved? how could I go on living this life if I knew I am more than I have believed?
and so we go on living in what has become our safe cage. forgetting how to fly. forgetting who we are. not knowing what lies beyond. not daring to look at the horizon, wondering what might be inviting us to more.
but friend, i would like to encourage you to dare to glimpse into the mirror that is held by one who loves you. one who knows you. one who longs to sing a song over you, to you. friend, may I help hold the mirror for you, as I, too, dare to glimpse in it for myself?
love is waiting.
anytime we put a label on someone, we are defining the title of their story. we are telling them "you are..." and these can be either positive or negative. yet, when we label someone by a single characteristic we limit them for good or bad. and even if we have good intentions "you are so young and beautiful" we are telling them "don't get old or ugly, because your value lies in the fact that you are so young and beautiful." we don't mean to define people. we don't mean to trap people by the labels we put on them (well, sometimes we do...just not always). but when we define people by only parts of their person, we limit people. they forget the whole of who they are. you and I have forgotten who we are. and we must be reminded time and again who we really are. the problem is, who knows who we really are? who can remind us in our amnesia supported by a culture that loves to define us by parts of our self?
I often have been defined by adjectives like "serious, good listener, smart, wise, nice, kind, good..." those are the positive labels that have defined my story line about myself. but then there are the less positive labels--"anxious, fearful, worrier, dull, plain, serious..." whether you agree with these doesn't really matter, because it's what we believe about ourself that is ultimately what defines how we live. how we relate to others. how we go about our lives. so sure, you can tell me something nice to try and change my negative self-perceptions, but if I don't believe you then I will probably smile kindly and just say internally "whatever...if you only knew this about me..." or I might say "you have to say that, you're my friend/mom/husband."
so how do we change our story-lines about ourselves? we have to get to know who we really are. we have to look in a mirror that shows us our true self. the mirror that doesn't show us the masked self. the mirror that has no cultural biases, no perception of what we should be. just the mirror that sees the inner created person we are. and I will add that no one will want to look in this mirror unless we know that this mirror is held by a loving Creator. I sure don't want to look in a mirror that is out to tear me down, hurt me, shame me, point fingers at me...
but a mirror held by the One who loves me? ok, I will dare to look in that mirror. yes, a mirror that says "I see your belovedness when I look at you." a mirror that says "you are loved. you are beautiful. you are enough. you are mine." that is the mirror of truth that will change our story-lines. that is the mirror that challenges our labels and beliefs that hold us back, keep us down, oppress us, shame us.
I want to look in this mirror. I want to see myself in this light. but I cannot look in this mirror without being changed. each time I dare to look at myself the way this mirror sees me, I will not be able to continue to believe the old story-lines that I have somehow adopted. I will be forced to challenge those beliefs that say "I'm not quite enough. I am too plain. there is something wrong with me. I can't let others know the true me..."
sometimes it feels safer to keep on believing our story-lines. we have found safety and comfort in the voices of people who have defined us. to challenge these story-lines feels uncomfortable. what will I do if I start believing I am loved? how could I go on living this life if I knew I am more than I have believed?
and so we go on living in what has become our safe cage. forgetting how to fly. forgetting who we are. not knowing what lies beyond. not daring to look at the horizon, wondering what might be inviting us to more.
but friend, i would like to encourage you to dare to glimpse into the mirror that is held by one who loves you. one who knows you. one who longs to sing a song over you, to you. friend, may I help hold the mirror for you, as I, too, dare to glimpse in it for myself?
love is waiting.
Wednesday, May 31, 2017
itchy neck and beauty
Just show up to your life. Stay on your mat! Have you heard these spoken or written before? Glennon Doyle Melton (author of Love Warriors and Carry on Warriors) talks about staying on your mat, meaning don't run away from the hard things in life. Show up! Well, if we're honest, it's easy to say these things on our good days. And very hard to practice them on our hard days. I will confess that is very true for me...
Here I am showing up today, but yesterday was the hard day. Yesterday was the day that I retreated like a hermit crab into my shell. Someone is passing by...retreat. Hide. And the darkness of my lonely shell felt miserable. All day long I struggled with my anxious thoughts. My triggers were high and I was feeling like a girl caught in the rip current of the ocean, forgetting which way to swim out from the rip current (the signs always tell you at the entrance of the ocean...but who can remember when they're actually caught in a scary rip current!?!) So there I was struggling. Too embarrassed to post anything on my anxiety support group Facebook page...that I happened to create. Me...the one who talks about being vulnerable and real and showing up to your life. Yes, even me. I still struggle. Even after paying way too much for counseling (I'm too embarrassed to say how much I have estimated paying for counseling!) I still hide on a day like yesterday. I will say that I didn't stay in bed. I did my best to do what I have learned from all that expensive counseling despite feeling fearful, anxious, and caught in a hamster wheel of anxious thoughts.
Even though I knew that my brain was doing its addictive anxious thought patterns, I really didn't do much to divert it. I got on the internet and researched how to eat better, what supplements I should take...all those dangerous no-nos that I have already told myself I should NOT do on an anxiety day. But there I was...saying "no big deal, it's just a few clicks. I won't do this for a long time like last time..." slippery slope words... (yes, denial words...)
But somewhere in the midst of my early evening I looked out the window (which we have a lot of in our house, thankfully) and noticed the beauty. It triggered a healthy thought (oh, thank you counselor for embedding some healthy thought seeds into my brain!)...look outside, notice the beauty, distract my anxious fear brain, be thankful. Practice gratitude! Oh yeah, gratitude. All day long I was thinking about all that was miserable about my life. My itchy itchy neck from eating something the day before. Feeling despair that my neck will always be itchy. Thinking that maybe I can never eat again...stuck. Trapped. Despair. Fear. Anxiety. THEN, that beautiful thought of "oh, there is still so much beauty around me! Still so much to be thankful for. Lift your eyes up! See. Notice!" For a moment I breathed deeper. I noticed. I saw the beauty. And as I kept making myself do this each time the fear thoughts would say "no no, be worried. think about us. fix your problems!" I noticed that I was able to have a little more breathing room. To remember that this too will pass. There is still sunshine and beauty in this world. My fear is not the whole reality. I do not have to stay in the darkness. My fear is just fear. But look, there is light, and beauty still!!! Light is greater than darkness. Light a small candle in a dark cave and you will notice the light.
As I lay in bed my neck was still very itchy, reminding me of something I should be very very worried about. But I decided to turn my thoughts to beauty, and what I am thankful for. To remind myself that this will pass. I'm going to be ok. And God is still with me. And I felt a flicker of...hope, and maybe even joy (these are not familiar feelings...I'm still learning what they feel like!) And I fell asleep...
Here I am showing up today, but yesterday was the hard day. Yesterday was the day that I retreated like a hermit crab into my shell. Someone is passing by...retreat. Hide. And the darkness of my lonely shell felt miserable. All day long I struggled with my anxious thoughts. My triggers were high and I was feeling like a girl caught in the rip current of the ocean, forgetting which way to swim out from the rip current (the signs always tell you at the entrance of the ocean...but who can remember when they're actually caught in a scary rip current!?!) So there I was struggling. Too embarrassed to post anything on my anxiety support group Facebook page...that I happened to create. Me...the one who talks about being vulnerable and real and showing up to your life. Yes, even me. I still struggle. Even after paying way too much for counseling (I'm too embarrassed to say how much I have estimated paying for counseling!) I still hide on a day like yesterday. I will say that I didn't stay in bed. I did my best to do what I have learned from all that expensive counseling despite feeling fearful, anxious, and caught in a hamster wheel of anxious thoughts.
Even though I knew that my brain was doing its addictive anxious thought patterns, I really didn't do much to divert it. I got on the internet and researched how to eat better, what supplements I should take...all those dangerous no-nos that I have already told myself I should NOT do on an anxiety day. But there I was...saying "no big deal, it's just a few clicks. I won't do this for a long time like last time..." slippery slope words... (yes, denial words...)
But somewhere in the midst of my early evening I looked out the window (which we have a lot of in our house, thankfully) and noticed the beauty. It triggered a healthy thought (oh, thank you counselor for embedding some healthy thought seeds into my brain!)...look outside, notice the beauty, distract my anxious fear brain, be thankful. Practice gratitude! Oh yeah, gratitude. All day long I was thinking about all that was miserable about my life. My itchy itchy neck from eating something the day before. Feeling despair that my neck will always be itchy. Thinking that maybe I can never eat again...stuck. Trapped. Despair. Fear. Anxiety. THEN, that beautiful thought of "oh, there is still so much beauty around me! Still so much to be thankful for. Lift your eyes up! See. Notice!" For a moment I breathed deeper. I noticed. I saw the beauty. And as I kept making myself do this each time the fear thoughts would say "no no, be worried. think about us. fix your problems!" I noticed that I was able to have a little more breathing room. To remember that this too will pass. There is still sunshine and beauty in this world. My fear is not the whole reality. I do not have to stay in the darkness. My fear is just fear. But look, there is light, and beauty still!!! Light is greater than darkness. Light a small candle in a dark cave and you will notice the light.
As I lay in bed my neck was still very itchy, reminding me of something I should be very very worried about. But I decided to turn my thoughts to beauty, and what I am thankful for. To remind myself that this will pass. I'm going to be ok. And God is still with me. And I felt a flicker of...hope, and maybe even joy (these are not familiar feelings...I'm still learning what they feel like!) And I fell asleep...
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