A Woman’s Confession

In this month of love, I’m committing to reading books on friendship and hospitality.  One of the books I’m reading is called Rediscovering Friendship: Awakening to the promise and power of women’s friendships.  

It’s an empowering and thought-provoking book for me.  The author, Elisabeth Moltmann-Wendel is a feminist theologian from Germany.  In the chapter where the quote below is taken from she is writing about how being declared righteous in God’s sight does not reach the level of forgiveness, healing, and trust, including the ability to love oneself.  What we truly desire is wholeness and healing.

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Below is a confession from a Swedish woman who has come to believe that her primary sin is self-contempt, and she does not see this sin confessed in churches.

 

Are there not sometimes other sins

to confess than these

which we have talked people into having?

Christ, I confess before you

that I have had no faith in my own potential.

That I have shown contempt for myself and my ability

in thought, word and deed.

I have not loved myself as much as others,

my body, my appearance,

my talents or my way of being myself.

I have let others guide my life.

I have let myself be scorned and mistreated.

I have relied more on the verdict of others

than on my own,

and I have allowed people to be indifferent

and malicious to me,

without telling them to stop.

I confess

that I have not developed to the fullest measure of my

capacities,

that I have been too cowardly

to venture to argue for a just cause;

that I have wounded myself

in order to avoid controversies.

I confess

that I have not dared to show

how competent I am,

have not dared to be as competent

as I really can be.

God, our Father and Creator,

Jesus, my Brother and Redeemer,

Spririt, our Mother and Comforter,

forgive me my self-contempt,

raise me up, give me faith in myself

and love of myself.

 

As I continue to heal physically, I want my sickness to mark me.  I want to be a strong advocate for others, but I first must be one for myself.  I want to encourage others in their giftings but I first must accept and utilize my own.  I want to encourage others to pursue health and healing, but I must pursue these first myself.

When I read this confession, I see me in it.  But I also see a bright little glimpse of lessons I learn and keep learning in sickness.

No one can want me well more than myself.  And until I desire my healing more than anyone else, I truly cannot help others.  

I’ve had to let go of friendships, take care of myself in private, say no to parties and trips, dive into writing when I would rather stay in the comfort of the teaching profession, even when my gifts aren’t acknowledged.  I had to advocate for myself and find a doctor who believed me.  I had to find friends who believed what I said.

As I read this confession my eyes fill with tears, and yet I’m joyful.  I don’t have to be everything to everyone.  I just need to be me, and know that I am loved.

What emotions do you feel as you read this confession?

In which lines of the confession do you see yourself clearly?

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In Preparation for Lent

Two years ago, I attended my first Ash Wednesday service at an Anglican church.

The words still echo in my mind this time of year:

“For he knows our frame, and he remembers that we are but dust.”

A special silence lingered as people proceeded up the middle aisle and the pastor placed the sign of the cross on each person’s forehead.

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While I didn’t quite know what all the symbolism meant, I could recognize these patterns.

Giving up for the sake of drawing nearer to God.

Recognizing my mortal state, and that Christ joins my humanity.

There is a solemnity in suffering that is lost in our modern culture.

That the ash on my forehead must be some type of symbol that I’m Christ’s and joined to his suffering.

If I truly believe my baptism, that I died and am raised with Christ, then I must actually travel to the cross with Christ.

Repentance and receiving Christ’s forgiveness must fuel the long, lonely journey to the cross that we take with Him.

None of us truly know what journeying to the cross with Christ will look like any given year.  He reveals Himself to us anew.  But maybe start here:  Embrace the solemnness of the season. Realize that you live in the Easter hope, yet linger in emotions other than joy.

Lent is more than the question, “What are you giving up?”

A deeper question is, “With whom are you journeying? Can you bear to see Christ as the Suffering Servant?”

Sweet Potato Fries

My January staple snack turned into sweet potato fries very quickly!  In the cold months, I want something warm and comforting-something with a bit of a kick!  Soup is hearty-but it’s a meal and a meal I often have for breakfast in the winter.  I needed something else, and sweet potato fries did the trick.

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Simply cut 1-2 sweet potatoes into strips or wedges.

In a bowl, pour plenty of olive oil to coat the fries.  Stir in cumin, garlic powder and cayenne.

Sautee the potatoes in olive oil for 10-12 minutes, flipping often.

*If you desire a sweet kick, instead of cumin, garlic, and cayenne, mix in maple syrup and cinnamon.

Chocolate Shake!

We’ve asked and thought up deep questions to start off our year!  Occasionally, I’m going to take breaks and just post some recipes of the past month or so.

I will be the first to admit that I’m not a shake meal replacement kinda girl.  I like food, not all chopped up and blended together.  I want to sit down to a plate full of food.

And yet some mornings are just busy!  And there’s still healthy ways to eat on the run.  I didn’t find myself busy when I made this shake, but I just wanted something different for breakfast.  Whatever, your reason, here’s to a yummy breakfast shake!

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1 cup coconut milk

ice if you want it really cold!

1/2 an avocado

1 ripe banana

2 Tbsp cocoa powder

2 pitted dates or 1 Tbsp honey

1 tsp. flax seed

If you’re not allergic to nuts, add 2 tsp almond butter

 

Daily Peace

Peace is often found with thankfulness, solitude, or communal enjoyment.  It’s marked by a sense of calm, of joy, of contentment.  Peace is in the present moment, not in regrets from the past, or from worrying about the future.  Peace is first found in that inner quiet, and then it can extend to others.

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So on this Friday, I want to list out small, little things in which I experience peace when I am fully attuned to the moment and see the Lord in the present.

  • Writing in my journal, peering out the back sliding glass door onto my baseball field backyard.
  • Making a simple breakfast, cutting open avocados, peeling the skin off a kiwi.
  • Doing yoga in silence on the large floor rug in the living room.
  • Practicing centering prayer and meditating on a certain passage in Scripture.
  • Drying off the dishes and putting them away.
  • Thankfulness in giving and receiving forgiveness
  • Walking in nature
  • Moisturizing my face with coconut oil.
  • Writing out a weekly thankful list
  • Watering my herb garden
  • Reading daily passages from Henri Nouwen’s Bread for the Journey
  • Cooking a large pot of soup for the week
  • Ending the day with a West Wing episode with my roommate
  • Repetitive liturgy

How do you experience peace?  What environments/activities allow you to most clearly hear the still, small voice of God?

What threatens your peace?

It’s so easy to look into the future and get scared.  What if my car breaks down?  What if I get sick?  What if I don’t have enough money to pay my bills?  What if my loneliness continues?

As I’ve started to pay closer attention to the patterns of my thoughts, it’s very difficult for me to stay in the present.  It’s hard for me to see the abundance around me:  the bird still singing in the winter cold, boiling water for tea, cozy blankets, stillness of the evergreens, books that nourish my soul, deep breaths that allow my attention to turn to the now.

I’m also learning that peace cannot exist alongside worry, anxiety, self-pity, boredom.  Peace exists in acceptance. Accepting one’s circumstances, personality, discontents, fears, dreams, laments and slowly releasing them to the One who holds us dear.  This is not mindless self-emptying.  This looks more like a daily slow struggle.  This looks like learning thankfulness anew in the midst of accepting hard challenges.

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This particular thankfulness is new to me.  I’m starting to see my gifts blossoming, gifts that have only come from deep struggle.  My sickness has led to deep and precious solitude that I no longer detest.  I know how to nurture and show hospitality to myself on a daily basis.  I’ve named my limitations and no longer have to apologize for them.  I love baking autoimmune paleo!  I’m learning to honor my highly sensitive personality and honor my need for downtime, reading and writing.  I see joyful growth in participating in my spiritual direction cohort.  I’m accepting that my life will be largely hidden–and this is where the Father whispers and we know Him most intimately.

What threatens my peace? 

There are many reasons my peace is threatened.  I reflected on these reasons as I read Searching For and Maintaining Peace by Father Jacques Phillipe.  Yet I believe there’s a simple answer.

When I can no longer hear the still, small voice of God.

If His voice is what I most desire, then I will savor the small hidden moments.  Moments with chamomille tea and a good book.

The Most Important Thing

Last week, I met with my spiritual director.  Throughout the month as I await my meeting, I scribble down thoughts in my journal of things I might want to talk about with her.  Yet, as the time arises, I ask myself:

What is the most important thing we should be talking about? 

The goal of meeting with my spiritual director is to discuss how I’m seeing God at work in my life.  So I’m learning to slow down, attune to my own life, how he’s working internally and externally.  I’m getting used to open ending questions swirling in my mind.

  • What is the Lord revealing to me about myself?
  • What questions am I entering more deeply?
  • What is the Lord saying to me presently?
  • What images center me and ground me right now?

So as I walk into the parlor at Tabernacle Presbyterian at the corner of 34th and Central, I anticipate discussing the most important thing.  Currently it’s an image about the tree in Psalm 1, that’s planted by steams of water, that bears its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither.

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As the conversation starts, we discuss this image, and keep coming back to it throughout the conversation.  I’m being invited into a more hidden life, a life whose roots keep going deeper and deeper into the soil.  I’m to be grounded, not moving, being tempted to engage in a more active life.  I am to appreciate, to find joy and contentment in staying right where I am.

Peace emerges as the most important thing is discussed.  We end our conversation as I make an observation that the theme of “prophet” has come up again and again this month and I’m wondering how I may be encouraged to take on an unpopular, but necessary stance.  No answers, just a large question to be lived–and to figure out what this means day by day.

What is the most important thing you should be discussing?  

Who do you discuss the most important thing with?

What’s the most important thing we should be talking about?

This is a hard question, and at times may be too serious.  Yet sometimes this question is totally called for.

It cuts to the chase.  It’s direct and clarifying.  It involves a deeper search.

It’s an active question and it cuts through passive-aggressive wandering conversations if there’s conflict to work through.

It’s both gritty and a gift.  

Imagine yourself sitting down with someone over coffee, and after a few minutes of small-talk, getting beverages, adding creamer, and finally getting settled, you hear, “What’s the most important thing we should talk about today?”

While my first response may be intimidation, overall, I think I would like to hear the question.  It means that my inner thoughts have value.  It’s an open-ended question, so I can bring hopes or fears, joys or tears.  This question gives value to what I’m feeling or processing.  It’s not a “let’s just catch-up” question.

It’s a question that screams, “What is most meaningful to you right now? I want to hear about it!”

I must say, though, this must be a well-timed question, used with discernment.  Some conversations are for catch-up, for information, but some do go deeper.  This question is perfect for your deeper conversations-those friends who are friends because they go deep, and they are not scared away.

I think though that this question can be playful and answered in a silly manner.  If someone would have asked me this question on Thursday morning, I would have answered, “Key-lime pie.”

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I just concocted this delicious pie for the first time and was very proud.  Some desserts on the auto-immune paleo diet are a big disappointment, but this one just looked lovely.  If someone else would have been in my kitchen, I would have told her about the ingredients and wanted her to smell the avocado/lime juice mixture, test the consistency of the coconut pie crust, and take joy in decorating the pie with kiwi and raspberries.

At that moment, making the pie took all my attention.  I was completely engaged, completely excited and I would want you to join in the fun with me.

On Friday, I’ll let you know a deeper answer of mine to this question 🙂

What important things do you want to talk about with your friends and family?

Where do you hurt? Pt. II

At 6am, my alarm buzzes, and I put my contacts on and go into the living room.  My morning starts with 10-15 minutes of gentle yoga, sometimes with classic music, but sometimes just silence.

I settle into breathing deeply, from my abdomen.  Deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the nose.  Or sometimes in through the nose, out through the mouth, loudly.

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My brain settles on my breath, already attempting to quiet my thoughts swirling around, even at such an early hour.  I am focused just on the present moment, not my to-do list.

This is when I hear the Lord ask me, “Where do you hurt?”  

There is something humbling about stating brokenness at the very onset of the day.  But instead of feeling depressed or especially broken by that question, the question is an invitation.

An invitation to be human.  An invitation that I don’t need to be a superhero today.  An invitation to accept my particular limits this day.  An invitation that the Lord wants to hear about my brokenness.  An invitation to be reminded that He comes near to the broken.

Today I answered, “My teeth hurt.  I must have clenched them last night.  My right hip is tight, and much less flexible than yesterday.”

Sometimes the answers may be more emotional or spiritual in nature.  However I have found that telling the Lord how my body feels is especially important to me.

I need to be reminded daily that the Lord cares about my physical body.  He wants me to be aware of how to nurture and tend to my body daily, not give excuses for why my body should be last on my priority list.  He wants me to remember that He came to the earth in a body.

It’s weird at first.  Especially if, like me, you grew up in an environment in which there was a significant body vs. soul dichotomy.  But I remind myself that the Lord cares, even if your words sound crazy for awhile.

I’m still on a journey, where I’m trying to picture and visualize that while on earth Christ hurt in every place that have and will.  I don’t know how this is true, but in order to believe Christ was human and suffered such as me, I must see him lying in bed exhausted, his legs tired from walking, his stomach rumbling of hunger.

May we all accept His invitation to be human.  He created us to be human-nothing more, nothing less.

Where Do You Hurt?

This fall, I read through the book Holy Listening by Margaret Guenther.  The author is an Episcopal priest, author, mother, wife, teacher, and a spiritual director.  The book was gritty, yet nurturing at the same time.  There’s a part in the book where she describes the two most important questions that she asks her directees during spiritual direction:

  1. What do you want?
  2. Where do you hurt?

These two questions sum up so much of what we think about, dream about, worry about, cry over.  These questions dig deep and reveal a person’s true self and his or her deepest longings.  The theological language is stripped away; in fact these questions are quite simple.

But maybe not so simple to answer.  

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Can you imagine if the question “Where do you hurt?” was imbedded into everyday conversation?  How would that change our interactions?

First, we must know how to answer this question ourselves.  Our answer might be physical, emotional, spiritual, psychological.  There isn’t a right answer–but the desire to truly search ourselves and be honest must be there.

Some mornings while doing yoga, I feel that my hips are tight, that my stomach hurts from what I ate yesterday, that my breathing is more shallow.

Some mornings I woke up having cried the night before.  I was worrying about money, about relationships, about my job, my health.  Some mornings I wake up apathetic and just feel like I’m floundering. Some mornings I process the past and feel guilty or sad or angry, and must acknowledge that I need to feel these emotions until freedom can come.

Some mornings, I feel far away from God, or I can’t seem to sit still and just be.  Some mornings thankfulness comes easily and simply as I just seem to pray as I do everyday tasks.

The beauty (or possibly fear) is that there are difficult answers to these questions every morning.

God, and those close to us truly want to know these answers.  The Lord cares where you hurt, where you feel you fall short, how your body is feeling in this very moment.

The challenge today is to sit still long enough and linger with the question, “Where do you hurt?” Answer honestly.  Acknowledge where you are at in this moment, not where you want to be.  Accept love from God and others, for who you are, for where you at right now.

You truly are loved, even in the hurting, the stumbling, the groaning.  He groans with you.

Where do you hurt today?  Feel free to share in the comments, if you feel comfortable.

I will be sharing how I daily try to answer this question with you all on Friday.