Life Viewed Through the Cross

I'm not sure exactly how it happened, but somehow over the past few months one of my favorite spots to retreat to has become the garden that houses the Stations of the Cross at our local Catholic church.  I have lived in Mooresville for a few years now and have noticed it before, but one day this fall I decided to go there just to take a walk.  I really did not expect it to be any life changing experience, but it has proven to be just that.

I struggle with anxiety and even mild depression at times.  There are moments when the voices in my head are so loud they seem like actual people to me.  They tell me how I am to important.  I don't matter to people.  I'm forgettable.  I'm not good enough or perfect enough.  I haven't earned people's good favor.  It can get so easy to get lost in people's opinions through those voices.  When that happens it becomes easy to lose sight of what God says about me.  I get overwhelmed and then the anxiety and panic attacks start.

That's where the beauty of this little garden comes in.  One day when I was struggling, I found myself remembering this little space that I had passed by many times.  I decided to go visit.  I had no expectations expect to be by myself.  I found myself wandering through this space revisiting a story I was familiar with, but now asking questions I had never asked before.  Why were these pieces of Jesus story recorded for us?  What did they mean?  How did they impact him?  What were the implications of the various parts of his journey to the cross for us?

I grew up in church.....  I thought I should know these things, but what I'm finding after a few months of visiting this little garden that follows the journey to the cross is that his story is my story.  If Jesus came to earth just to "save" us from our sins, then why are we left here?  There has to be more.  So what does the story of the cross really teach us?  

I am finding as I keep returning to this little piece of land that the story of the cross teaches me so much about myself.  This series of weathered plaques gives me the opportunity to revisit any part of my own story and see it through the lens of the cross.  Sometimes that journey is one that focuses on the death of things.  I've cried as it has focused on loss.  The loss of relationships that once gave life and encouraged, but have now become toxic in their effect on my emotional and spiritual health.  Sometimes it sparks joy as I see how some things in my life have died so that other things can grow and flourish.  

Today I found myself reflecting on relationships.  There are key parts of the stations that focus on those Jesus meets, comforts, is ministered to and helped by.  These are what stood out to me today.  It seems so often that as Christ-followers we can get so focused on the task of sharing Christ with others whether by word or action that we can forget that relationship was key to Jesus ministry.  We can become so preoccupied with doing that we forget to be present.  

That is the beauty of this little garden of stations in the corner of town that I've discovered.  God keeps bringing me back to it as a reminder that I need to be present.  I need to be still and to listen.  In the silence we will hear him the clearest and loudest.  For me, I continue to return to the stations to view my life through the cross.  It changes the meaning of loss, pain and even anger.  It allows me to reflect on why some things die.  They allow me to evaluate the health and unhealth of relationships and situations.  It brings me closer to God by bringing me closer to the cross through the reflection of my own life.

Trash: The Holy Aspect

Have you ever wondered what would happen if you asked God what to do with your trash?  Yes, I am completely aware how insane that sounds, but over the course of the last couple of weeks I have started to notice a trend in some of my conversations.  And yes... It involves our family's trash...

Does God really care about that minute detail of our lives?  So often we ration our prayers and questions for God like we they are wishes from a genie.  We need to wait for the big ticket items to really use one.  God doesn't care about little things like our trash so lets not worry him with that.  So we  continue to put an emphasis on what we consider the big items and let the little everyday parts fall to the side, looking for the next big opportunity to ask God to join us in our life.  We want it to look impressive when we say, God answered this prayer.  

It seems like our family is in a season where we desperately need God in those little everyday decisions.  It has felt very odd over the last year as we begin to ask God how to situate our daily life to be the best stewards of the resources he has placed in our care.  

We are nearing the one year anniversary of the decision we made for our family that I needed to leave my job.  We have been a one income family for 11 months. It was not the path we expected to take in 2015, but it is the direction that God steered our family when we started to ask the daily questions.  

One of the oddest things that I have found to come out of the questions we began to ask about our daily life is our trash situation.  When we started asking God what to do with various parts of our lives and habits, we found ourselves coming back to the idea of recycling.  Our habit had been to just toss trash in the trash can and place the trash can out every week.  Then one day a Facebook post came through both my feed and my husband's.  A mutual friend shared that there was a community collection site for recycling.  It was free.  You didn't have to separate everything.  It was less than 5 minutes from our house!

As our family began to move into recycling mode, we began to become more conscious about the packing for items we purchased.  We started to think about the landfills that our trash would go to.  It became a game to see how much we could move out of one trash can into the recycle bin.  It created community and camaraderie in our family as we worked toward a common goal.  Our 18 month old quickly turned into a 2 year old that has begun to realize the significance of the second trash can in our home.  By beginning the process of recycling we have started to think about how to be good stewards in other areas, like our finances, furniture purchases and even energy usage.  

Recycling has made me take a deeper look at God in the everyday aspect of our life.  We truly under-use God when we relegate him to a corner of our lives marked "Important Stuff".  God wants to be part of those decisions also, but the relationships that I turn to the most.  The relationships that allow for the most vulnerability and connectedness are those people, who share everyday life with me.  They are my group of friends that have started to meet every third Thursday evening to make freezer meals. They are the couple we exchange babysitting services with.  Why do we think it's different for God?  We see Jesus share everyday life with his disciples.  This is how they knew what he would do when he was gone.  This is how they knew how the first church should function.  They knew how he handled everyday life.

This is why God cares about my trash....  If I can trust him with this seemingly insignificant role, I am laying the foundation for him to be in my life in a much better way.  When the question of what do I do with my trash begins to become my first response and I let him speak into that detail of my life, it can and eventually will translate itself into the rest of my life.  Because of that I find there is holiness in my trash.  My trash and the fact that I dispose of something everyday means I think about what trash can the things I discard belong in.  In asking that question multiple times a day, there becomes a holy connection between me and my trash, because of the mere fact I have invited God into that part of my life.

Boxes, Hashtags and Community

The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet.

~ Frederick Buechner

As humans we seem so often to be in search of something.  We want to discover ourselves, find our passion, our purpose, the meaning of life... The list goes on.  

We often search for the thing that will define us in a revelation.  We want something dramatic.  The truth that I am learning is it is the ordinary everyday things that define us.  They are where our passions can be found.  They are the things that weave together to make up the fabric of our lives.  

I have lived a lot my life out of boxes.  It's like moving at some point and never truly unpacking.  You need clothes? Go to this box.  You need a plate?  Oh it's in that box over there.

In my life that has looked something like this....

Church?  Oh here's the outfit I wear for that.  

Work? Oh here's the attitude and talents I pull out for that.

Play?  Oh, Here the box I hide from everyone except a few people that will not judge me...

The boxes always remain separate and I run from place to place when I need something from one of them.  If you have church, work and play all in the same day, well than you wear yourself out juggling the boxes!

I find myself stopping lately and asking the question...

What if life is not supposed to be lived in the boxes?  

What happens if I start to believe the things that bring me great happiness are actually my way of meeting a deep hunger in the world around me?

When I start to ask those things I find myself volunteering for ReadUp at a local elementary school because of my deep love of books and reading.  Because I see books as the door to endless possibilities celebrating with students as they perfect this skill becomes a place God calls me to.

One of the things I have struggled with the most over the past few months is the sense of call I feel to the community we live in.  It is a call that becomes stronger each day.  It's become even stronger as fall days and evenings have allowed our family walks to resume.  As we walk I feel connected.  You should in the community you live in, right?

But I've felt torn...  I also go to church, meet up with our short circle (small group) and work on my volunteer plan for the church we attend and I feel connected.  Only this connection is to a community 30 minutes away from the place I call home.  In my world of boxes, I need to keep them separated.  I need to distinguish the two.  

I think my realization came this week as in posting a picture of my daughter on Instagram I found myself adapting the hashtag that gets used by our church, The Southeast Project or #wearesoutheast.  As we wandered through our town, I found myself thinking about the meaning that particular hashtag carries with it. 

We Are Southeast.  

It defines the church as not a set location, but a body of people.  This group of people happens to meet on the southeast side of Indianapolis.  They work hard to connect with their community.  They are teaching our family amazing things about what it means to connect in a meaningful way with your community.  What it means to be invested in a school, relationships and why you should always rock out to the music being played!  Because we are part of this and building our own relationship here #wearesoutheast.

As we wandered the streets of our town though, I found myself thing about the idea that while #wearesoutheast, we are also part of this community called Mooresville.  I thought about how being Southeast means that we have a relationship with the elementary school in the district that the church meets to worship.  It means crazy fun movie nights, Spring Flings and Easter Egg Hunts all on a community level.  It means being a part of the life cycle of the community.  

I found myself pondering the idea of #wearemooresville.   I honestly haven't been much for hashtags in the past, but something about having a 2 year old is bringing out a more playful side of me that I put away in one of those boxes a long time ago.  You can never truly love something you refuse to be part of.  As long as you hold yourself back you will not get hurt, but you will not live either.  

When you give your heart to something as C.S. Lewis so beautifully states:

 To love at all is to be vulnerable.  

Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. 

As we walk around town I realize that 3 years ago as we became part of the community when we opted to go to the laundry mat to do our laundry.  I gave my heart to the community we call home.  I have had my heart broken as circumstances beyond our family's control meant God moved our place of worship 30 minutes away, out of the community I felt called to.

And then something beautiful happened...

I fell in love again.  I fell in love with the amazing, broken, messed up people just like me that make up #wearesoutheast.  

If our deep gladness is what God wants to use to speak to the world's deep hunger than God wants to use the things we love.  The things we give our hearts to, the things that bring us joy have a deeper, holier purpose than we let ourselves believe.  

The Southeast Project, the town of Mooresville, the Benedictine monastery I discovered this month, my ReadUp kids and even the coffee shop I love to visit so I can read in the corner are all things that I am realizing are places of deep gladness in my life.  These are the places that prepare me to best meet the world's deep hunger with my gifts, talents and strengths.  

So what do hashtags and boxes ultimately have to do with deep gladness?  

Well... I am discovering it is a deep gladness to be part of #wearesoutheast, but I'm also discovering that as my love for Southeast grows my love for this quirky little town called Mooresville grows with it.  Southeast gives me a tangible vision for what a life lived in community should look like.  As I learn and live out that vision with #wearesoutheast I find myself more and more believing that #wearemooresville is true.

So if you would like to follow our family's adventures on becoming #wearemooresville and #wearesoutheast they will make their way to Instagram!  

Understanding

We live in an old home.  According to the best records we can find it was built around 1875.  There is something interesting about living in an older home.  If you let it, you learn about the value of investing intentionally.  

In the time we have lived here, my husband and I have both made the observation that the construction is vastly different from the houses built today.  The walls in the original portion of our home are about 2-3 bricks deep and covered with plaster, that's the interior walls.  The house could literally burn down and we would just need to replace flooring, plaster and paint.  This house is probably one of the tiniest of the historic homes on our street.  What it might lack in size, however, it more than makes up for in sturdiness.  Whoever built this house 140+ years ago, built it to last.  They invested in good materials that have stood the test of time.  They invested in a style that has curb appeal and it unique.  There isn't another house in town quite like it.  

We actually have come to love our little home with all of its quirks and oddities.  It has become a metaphor for our lives.  In its own way it is a work of art.  It takes an expert to address any portion of the issues in our home because of it's age and our desire to honor what it has been while adapting it for our family of four.  My husband searched for months interviewing and researching just the right person to address the tuck pointing that the exterior brick required.  You see finding someone who understood the nature of the age of our brick was incredibly important if we wanted to maintain the integrity of the craftsmanship that created our home. 

Therein, lies the metaphor.

Understanding...

This week I have found myself reflecting a lot on where I have been and where I am headed.  Not just once, but twice this week I have found myself sharing with friends the exact area that I genuinely believe God is calling me to ultimately do ministry.  I am more sure of this than I have ever been anything in my life.  But the reality is I am worshipping with a community that is 30 minutes away from where I am called.  So what does it mean?  

The comparison of David living with the Philistines after he was anointed king, but was exiled due to Saul's choices and actions comes to mind....  But the tribe I am with right now is anything but the Philistines.  In fact they are reminding me of something I desperately need to hear right now.  It's ok to be the beautiful, broken mess that I so often feel like.  God uses that.  I am learning what it looks like to love deeply.  What it looks like to partner with the community around you.  I am learning.  It makes me think...  The Philistines were one of the most powerful nations of David's time.  Despite the fact they did not worship Israel's God, they had to have some impressive leadership structure.  Was that God's reason for allowing David's exile?  To learn leadership principles and structure from the best of his time?  Maybe it was learning to live in peace with those he didn't completely agree or feel comfortable around (after all, David was the one a few years earlier who had taken out the best and brightest warrior).  I am definitely learning that!  I am thrilled to be raising my daughters in a culture that makes me question and challenge my preconceived ideas every week!

I also find myself reflecting on some of the painful moments that led to this place in my life.  I think one of the most potent memories I find myself reliving this week is the moment I began to recognize the truth behind the facade I was trying to embrace.  Anytime you remove x from an equation and insert y you change the result.  When you add not only y, but also z you exponentially alter the results you were attempting with x in the equation.  In fact you create an entirely different equation.  It creates an equation that no longer welcomes the x's of the world.  But it is no longer the same equation either.  You have now changed what you are pursing.  Of course it becomes very confusing for those that think the equation is suppose to be the same.  I think that is where I fall....  I didn't understand the new equation.  I thought I was coming back to a bigger better equation built on the first one.  But it was not the same equation.  My x no longer had a place.  

I have struggled with understanding why my relationships with friends have changed.  I have cried when those I use to be so close to, no longer have space for me in their lives.  When I look at the new math equation though, I understand it is not so different from my experience of church during my high school years.  While we want to believe that things are different as an adult, those experiences are often preparing us for what it coming.  We cannot get along with everyone.  It is the reality of our broken world.  However, there are those relationships that when we choose to pursue them, they break deep friendships that we might have taken for granted.  Friendship that made us think nothing could happen to them because they were grounded and the other person "understood" us.  

Understanding....

What does it really mean to understand?

For me right now it means learning to move on with life when my x is no longer needed in someone's equation.  Actually, this one is familiar...  I know how to do this.  It hurts and it's painful, but it is not the unknown.

It also means, that my x has been moved to an equation that I can learn my value.  The value of x is always unknown until you start to work it into the equation the way it was meant to be.  

Understanding means that by seeing how I fit into the equation of the tribe I am in right now, I know the value that my x brings to the next equation to which I move.  

Just like our house needed someone who understood the quirks of it's construction and materials, my x needs to be around those who will help me understand its value and what it contributes to the equations.  

Understanding....  

In my case it means to be with a tribe, to develop friendships that help me discover the value of my x....

The Exhale in Emotion

Emotions are difficult. 

 Emotions are messy.  

Having emotions has gotten me reprimanded more than once.

On the other hand....

Emotions are complex.  

They are an intricate creation designed by an amazingly creative God.

Emotions are reminders.

They symbolize that we are alive, we can feel.

Emotions are connection.

They have the ability to redirect us to the loving, caring God, who holds our past and our future in his hands.

Today, I'm full of emotions.

I am so excited at the direction my tribe known as Southeast Project is headed!

I have emotions I cannot even name as I see the journey that God has lead this group of people on even before our family joined them and where we are headed with them.

I feel happiness at watching my two year old insist that she needed to go say hello to Jared, our worship pastor, before she would go to the nursery.

I felt amusement as after service she proceeded to run around the worship space calling to his fiancée, Shelby.

I feel connected as I walk through the various areas and realize I can celebrate with many other people the amazing things that are happening in their lives.

At the same time I feel sadness.

I am not really a fan of that emotion.  

I realized today that whatever myself and others that have been in my life might think; my daughters will not really know most of the people I thought they would grow up knowing two years ago.

I feel loss as I look at the people I used to know, but who no longer are a part of our life.

I feel anger at those, who are responsible for the circumstances that led to that separation.

I really don't feel comfortable with the anger.

I feel like it is an emotion I am not allowed to express.

But it doesn't exactly go away....

I feel tension as I live in the reality that I feel the happiness, the sadness, the connection, the loss, but  the anger leaves me living in the tension the most.

In the past I have always stuffed the anger pretending that I could spiritualize it and "pray" for those that have hurt me.  I think I am realizing like many things in my life, spiritualizing and "praying" really does not do much but connect me more deeply with the Pharisees.  You see, even though I am not typically quite as impulsive as Peter; I feel much more like cutting someone's ear off when I am experiencing anger.  

So the tension is there in the anger.  It often feels like every day is lived in the tension of will I blast the object of my anger?  Or will I hand it to God and say "I can't do this. Help me."  The tension remains as right now the anger has lessons it is teaching me.

Ephesians 4:26 tells us "Do not sin in your anger.  Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry,".  The part we often fail to read on to see is verse 27, "and do not give the devil a foothold."  When I focus on not letting the sun go down while I'm angry, I feel like a major failure.  I have been experiencing anger for nearly 3 years now whether I have admitted to it or not.  My husband was the one to bring my attention to the first part of the verse, "Do not sin in your anger."  When I move on to the next verse and realize that not giving the devil a foothold is part of the instruction I start to look at the whole concept to this anger thing.  

My anger is an emotion.  God created every one of my complex, messy, connected emotions.  This makes every single one of them beautiful.  

Yes, even anger....

If I let it my anger teaches me that I can try with all my might to check off the right boxes, but this emotion of anger is like corralling cats.  I do not have the ability to manage it on my own.  If I try to handle it, it is going to run all over the place!  So my anger serves as a tool that God can use to draw me closer to him.  If I am not to sin in my anger and I cannot control said anger on my own forever, then the only way to manage it is to continually bring it to him for help.  

And therein lies the exhale...

Anger does not have to be a bad thing. 

It can be a powerful tool in God's box to build relationship with me.

I can breath....

I can let go...

I can exhale...

Will I experience it tomorrow?

Maybe...

You cannot heal what you do not acknowledge,
and what you do not consciously acknowledge will remain in control of you from within,
festering and destroying you and those around you.
~Richard Rohr

Today I realized that acknowledging the emotion of anger give that opportunity to heal.  

When I name it and acknowledge it I deny it the power to fester and destroy.

Healing never happens if we ignore the very thing preventing it.

So I might experience the anger tomorrow or the next day or the next.

But owning that it exists prevents that foothold from being established and acknowledging it invites God into my story to start the healing process.

A Terrible, Impossible Thing

"The terrible thing, the almost impossible thing, is to hand over your whole self--all your wishes and precautions--to Christ."

~C.S. Lewis

I find lately that I am at a crossroads.  It is an odd sort of place.  It does not look anything like I expected it to look.  It is a crossroads where my desire to avoid conflict comes in direct contact with the call that God has placed on my life.  It is a call I successfully have avoided sharing with many while still pursuing it in a secret sort of way.  I could refer to pieces of it and find a way to actually avoid ever owning up to the truth that lay behind the partial story I shared.  

I have a gift.  I told some friends lately it's a blessing and a curse, but my gift is the ability to read people.  My first read of someone is seldom wrong.  It scares me sometimes when I start to see those first impressions I get of a person begin to prove true.  

Lately I have begun to realize how much I have been using this gift to avoid conflict.  See I can get a really good idea of whether my bigger secret is safe to say around you without creating the conflict I fear.  I have used this gift, which has amazing potential as a barrier between myself and hurt, shunning and isolation.  I learned at a young age that to be accepted you say the right things around the right people.  That's just the way life works.

And so I hide the most import piece of myself away from most of the world.

I hide it from friends and family.

I make the "right" people happy by not saying the words out loud.

And in doing so I stifle a piece of myself more and more.

As my excitement grows at the endless potential I see around me, at the direction my life is headed.  I find myself wanting to share my excitement with others.  But I wait and find the "safe" spots.  The places where I am guaranteed that I will not experience that conflict.  Where I run no risk of being shamed or put down because of what I have to say.

So I find mentors and meet with them, while avoiding actually mentioning to very many others why I pursue the relationship.  I take classes and still manage to avoid actually saying the words that describe the job for which I am preparing.  

You see, there is a part of me that fears even God will not be able to repair the damage if I say the words.  But the truth is still there even when I shadow it in vague descriptions.  I think that is the crossroads I find myself at.  It is becoming harder and harder to "hide" my truth.  It is becoming more central to who I am than ever.  

And then there are my two little girls.  I look at them and realize.... I do not want them to be like this version of me.  The person, who hides a key part of who God created them to be out of fear.  

So the truth.... My role as student is temporary.  A sort of training for the longer journey ahead.  My role as Volunteer Director at our church.  More extensive real life experience, a chance to learn from an incredibly gifted pastor, who shares his wins as well as his screw ups and makes me realize that I will be able to live out that calling if I surround myself with the right people to support me and challenge me.

I do know the role of a pastor is not an easy one.  Honestly, it's probably not what I would have picked if God had handed me a huge book and said pick your ideal career.  I would have picked something safe like librarian...  No one can really tell you you should not have that position...  There is no end to the debate of whether women should be in pulpits or not.  I know....  I have heard the arguments most of my life.

But my crossroads has brought me to that moment when I can listen to the arguments for all the reasons I should not pursue this path God is leading me down.  Or I can follow.  It really is as terrible and impossible as Lewis implies...  To hand over one's whole self... all your precautions to Christ.  It feel a little like jumping out of a plane without a parachute waiting for someone else to catch you.  But is that not the life God calls us to lead?  We admire Abraham for packing up and following God to a land that he did not know, but we often opt for safety in our own choices.

So I exhale....

And finally own publicly the reality that my Bachelors of Biblical Studies degree is to prepare for ministry.  

To follow a call from God to lead.

And yes.... 

That would be to lead from a pulpit one day.

My Present Story

When you allow other people to determine your best choices; when you allow yourself to be carried along by what other people think your life should be, could be, must be; when you hand them the pen and tell them to write your story, you don't get the pen back.  Not easily anyway. 

~ Shauna Niequist, Present Over Perfect

My oldest daughter turned two this last weekend.  After a crazy weekend, dedicated to an extroverted toddler, who loves her peoples, I find myself with time to reflect on a quiet Monday morning.  I am quite sure that every year when Myka's birthday comes around, I will find cause to pause and reflect on the changes in my life.  You see, finding out I was expecting Myka was life changing for me.  It became the moment in time when I came face to face with the insanity that I had chosen to acquiesce to in my life.  

I had let others demand more and more of me.  I had let others take over the pen that was writing my story, telling me that they heard God differently than I did, so the implication became, I heard God incorrectly.  The blessing that comes with pregnancy for me is the inability of my body to handle the stress I attempt to put it through on an everyday basis.  Myka symbolizes a moment when God disconnected me from the unhealthy that was surrounding me, the voices that would have lead me away from the direction he was moving me.  In pregnancy my capacity is diminished so significantly that I lose the ability to force myself to sacrifice my emotional, spiritual and physical health for the version of me others want.  In reality, both of my girls are blessings.  With Myka, I recognized the danger in letting someone attempt to custom create a job you were never intended to fill.  With Eden, I discovered the joy in being in the right place and having your need to say "no, I need some space" accepted, even honored.  

Myka symbolizes for me a moment when I took back the pen of my life and began to write my own story again.  I began to pursue the vision of the story God had given me.  Myka served as a catalyst to make me chose to make the difficult move to reclaim the pen that was steering the direction of my life.  As a result, I said no to what was ultimately a glorified office assistant position.  By saying no and walking away, God moved me to a place much better suited for me.  I now serve in a position that enables me to live out the vision I had of developing and investing in leaders and volunteers.  By saying no, I freed up the capacity in my life to pursue the formal education that will better prepare me to lead.  

When we allow others to write our story, it reflects a combination of what they believe should be our story and themselves.  It will never be truly ours.  It becomes a broken up compilation of short stories as the pen continues to change hands.  When we take back the pen and begin to write our story with God's guidance.  It becomes a story that flows seamlessly through the fabric of our lives.  Rather than the random broken pattern of a patchwork quilt, our lives become like a piece of carefully crafted and painstakingly woven expensive silk.  Beautiful and valuable because its flaws are woven into one solid piece.  

I was reminded yesterday, that our lives are not intended to be separate boxes and compartments.  Our life is intended to flow from one space to another unbroken.  When we allow God to drive our story, our passions move from our work life to home life to the spiritual in much the way the Mississippi river flows through it's varied landscapes.  Our story is consistent and unbroken.  It's strength coming from the way it flows consistently from one area to another, connected in its movement.  

Being present demands that we wield the pen that writes our story.  When we give it to others it creates a brokenness to our life as we are pulled in various directions.  When we take back our pen and write the story God is showing us, we create a seamless and beautiful story that reflects His glory.