Over and Over and Over I Write

I feel like I write some form of this blog at least once a year---well,

actually, it's not just a feeling; it's the truth. And that is both freeing and frustrating, so here it goes AGAIN!

I have body image issues--big-time body image issues. I can trace the root of the issue, and I have. But the truth is it's time to let that go, put on my big girl panties, and take responsibility for myself. So here it is. I hate the way my body looks. I continually compare my body to others. I think a lot about how to lose weight, what to eat or not eat, and I judge others. There I've said it--and even saying it makes me sad and ashamed. I don't want to be that person. But I am that person, and I am working really hard to change. (Go ahead and send me some times Becky.) I'm also the person who gets defensive and angry. The other day I rejoined a group committed to walking or running at least 1 mile every day for 100 days. My good friend commented on my post rejoining the group with these words, "Glad you're back at it!!!!" I read, "Clearly you haven't been doing anything and you're a slacker. It shows." So I got angry and wanted to respond, "Just because I haven't been posting doesn't mean I haven't been trying!" But I didn't because I also know my friend well and I know I was not reading what she intended, my insecure, emotional self was reading what I needed to protect my fragile image. (Also because even I recognized how nutso my thinking was....)

Two days ago I was walking/running on the beach and bemoaning both my body and how out of shape I am while also listening to an episode of the  Eternal Current podcast hosted by Aaron Niequist. He was having a discussion with Sarah Bessey and she said something like this referring to spiritual practices, "As our faith develops, it changes and sometimes you have to let go of what is no longer feeding you. But that doesn't mean it wasn't good or helpful or holy. Honor it and let it go." Again, that may not be exactly what she said, but it's what I heard and it connected two things very important to me.

I started thinking about my faith and how in January at the Rooted in Jesus conference (remember when we could meet in person), I had a huge personal renewal in my faith and particularly in my desire to deepen my relationship with God. I was on fire and excited and I started digging in and then March 13 came and it all came to a screeching stop.

Let me explain it a little better--or at least try to. I was trying new ways of connecting with God. I had felt so dry for so long and suddenly I felt like I was drinking from a fire hose but when the pandemic hit I retreated and tried to return to the practices that have sustained me for years. But they didn't work, and so I let go. I let go and then instead of returning to my fire of January and February, I stopped doing anything. I still prepared to preach every week reading the scriptures, reading and listening to commentaries, and making connections with the world today. I'm a decent preacher, and I think I did a pretty decent job. I was also often preaching to myself. But it wasn't enough. I still hungered to go deeper. So again instead of returning to January and February, I started paying attention to what others were doing, particularly people who I see as strongly grounded in their faith, and I tried to copy them. You're reading the prophets, great I'll read the prophets. You're practicing centering prayer, great I'll practice centering prayer. (Y'all I'm TERRIBLE at centering prayer.) You are journaling every day, great I'll journal every day. You get the picture.

Y'all I'm a slow learner, so while packing for the beach, I packed all those books/readings I've used for years. I packed them, I brought them into the house (or rather my son did), and there they sit.

Okay, now I'm connecting all this stuff...my body has changed. It has gotten older, had a total knee replacement, and gotten older (I know I've said gotten older twice but it really stinks!). Some of the things I used to do to stay in shape and lose weight don't work anymore or at least don't work as quickly. Frankly, some of them are unhealthy--some were then and others were okay then, but not for a 52 year old's body. I have to honor them and let them go. I need to recognize what I learned from them--even the unhealthy painful ones and then let go but recognize they will always be a part of my story. And what I really need to accept is this is a journey I'm on which I suspect will never end. I will go deeper into understanding, I will go deeper into acceptance, and I will probably write about this again next year.

My faith and relationship with God have also changed. And that is a GOOD THING! I'm craving going deeper and to do that I have to try new and different things. Some of the things I used to do still feed me, and some don't. I also need to honor that and then let them go again recognizing they will always be a part of my story. Some I may return to again. Faith is a journey that never ends and is always forming and more importantly transforming. 

One more connection--getting in shape and deepening my faith is personal. I have to commit to them, I have to want it, and I have to recognize there will be changes with time. But they are also communal. (Aaron Niequist said this in episode 3 of his podcast.) It can be hard and lonely and frustrating. So find a community. I've found one for my running--I may need more, we'll see.

I also have multiple communities that help to sustain and challenge my faith. (I am eternally grateful I have the CCL who allow me to bounce things off them, who offer me different perspectives, and who call me out. I'm also grateful they are early risers so when I wake at 5 am and can't get a thought out of my head, it's okay to text them.) I need another one. I need to be accountable for trying new practices. Here's the truth, I need another to do on my list like I need a hole in my head, but I also hunger for my relationship with God to deepen. I want and need it. So, I want to read Aaron Niequist's book The Eternal Current and I want to read it slowly and intentionally and in community. I want to practice the practices and talk about them. So if you're interested, let me know. It doesn't matter where you live--we'll make it work. 

Let's get started!

Dogs and Redemptive Love

I just wanted to walk down the beach and slap the pier--well, that's not really true. I wanted to run down the beach and slap the pier. But since I'm 4 1/2 months post total knee replacement, I had almost resigned myself with that not happening.

Eleven weeks ago we came to the beach during my recovery. I had just been told I could stop using my cane, but I had also been told to be very careful--to not walk much on the beach as it is unstable--so basically I was told walk down to the beach and then just sit. It was not an easy week. So this week was very important to me. It was going to be a redemptive week.

Off the dogs and I went at a fast pace. We got to the pier, and I slapped the fire out of it. I slapped it as a sign of victory and accomplishment, and I slapped it out of frustration and pain. And it felt good.

We turned and began the 2.27 miles back. (Told you I've done this many many times) Bobby was not keeping up. I'd turn around slightly and encourage him, but he was falling further and further behind. I was getting more and more frustrated. I wanted to keep my pace fast and consistent. He was totally ruining it. I decided I would just keep walking and when I got to the path back to the house I'd wait on him.

I got to the path, turned around, and I could see Bobby NOWHERE! I began to panic--how was I going to go back in the house and tell Caroline I had lost her dog. I suddenly knew well the panic Chris felt when he lost William at the Pirates game--possibly a slight exaggeration.

I started walking back to the beach frantically wishing my hysteria away. A half a mile back I found him. My relief was instantaneous and then I was completely irritated. Now not only does he bark at everyone as though he owns the beach, but he also can't keep up. He was ruining everything. My plan had been to walk to the pier EVERY day. Clearly this was not going to be possible for Bobby, and the dogs and I have a routine. There was no way I was going to be able to bring Winnie down and not Bobby. I mean I could, but then Bobby would bark non-stop and wake Caroline. My fear of that far surpassed my fear of losing him.

I'll admit it--I began to pout. And I continued to pout all morning and well into the afternoon. I complained to The Babies non-stop. They kept saying I could just try to leave him on the porch; I wouldn't hear or consider it; there's a possibility I was enjoying the pout.

Then I had a brilliant idea. I would send him home with William on Thursday and board him for the weekend. The week could possibly be saved. It was the perfect plan and it was made even more perfect when the vet just happened to call for another reason and just happened to have a cancellation that very day! Surely this was God at work!!

That evening I walked with the dogs down to the beach again. (My feathers weren't ruffled anymore and I had a plan...plus it is not tradition to walk to the pier in the evening.) As I was heading back to the house I turned around to check on the dogs. Winnie was waiting patiently for Bobby and suddenly I felt lower than a snake's belly in a rut.

I thought about June....

The dogs wanted to run. The dogs wanted the routine we have had for years. The dogs were confused. The dogs stayed with me. The dogs adapted. The dogs loved unconditionally.
And I forgot.

I forgot or maybe I just didn't care. It was about me--both in June and now. In June I needed love, care and comfort; the dogs provided it. This week I needed/wanted to prove myself (to whom I have no idea--I guess myself--darn I hate when I realize how selfish I am); Bobby was in my way. I was perfectly willing to cast him aside and to justify it by faith.

Bobby stayed. We made one more much slower walk to the pier and back. Bobby barked at everyone we saw. And it was okay.

I was reminded of community--of caring for one another. I was reminded that justifying selfish acts with faith is just, well it's just plain wrong. And yet it's so easy to do. I was reminded that in relationships we give and we take; we adjust so we can remain in relationship.

I was reminded of and received the power of redemptive love.

Dogs, Shells, and People--My Balm in Gilead

If you're sick of me droning on and on about loss and grief, join the

club. I am the President of the "get over yourself and move on" Club. The problem is I'm doing a really lousy job--the impeachment process has probably already started...

I haven't felt like writing because I don't like to write when I can't tie it all up--you know in a pretty package with a great big, cost more than the present, bow. And like other writers (sometimes I pretend I'm one of those) I know it's not really a good idea to write until you're through the experience--learned that in EFM too. But this morning two things happened....

The second--I was reading a blog by someone I'd never read before, but I was hooked. She is a real writer, funny, honest, sincere, and deep. I highly recommend you follow her Justifying Jane. (an aside--I was trying to click on one of her blogs a smart wise friend had posted on facebook. The link wouldn't work so if it doesn't work for you try typing it into your browser. I have no idea why I worked so hard to read that post that I spent 15 minutes trying to figure it out, hmmmm.....maybe that's a third thing) Anyway she wrote this in one of her posts, "And that’s where I’m at right now. I’m in the midst of a very specific and painful storm. The worst part about this storm, is that it didn’t just happen to me. I wasn’t minding my own business when all of a sudden the clouds rolled in and started screwing with my life. There’s no fundraisers or meals or Hallmark cards for this kind of storm."

So that's where the first part came in....

Even though I can't run or even walk down the beach, I get up every morning and head down there so the dogs can run and I can pray or cry or scroll through facebook or read leadership books--basically so the dogs won't drive me crazy all day.  Just like when I used to run, some of the same people pass every day, many with dogs. Winnie and Bobby LOVE their new friends.

Two days ago one woman with her 8 month tri-colored springer was passing one way and a couple with their mutt and 8 week springer puppy were passing the other. This was the first day they passed at the same time. Everyone stopped in front of me. I didn't get up--y'all it's not pretty trying to get up off the sand at 51 years of age with a knee that won't bend or straighten, and if truth be told, I was hoping they'd just say hello and chop

chop walk on.  They didn't.

Not only did they not quickly leave, the gentleman came over to me. At this point my raised in the south to always be polite and overly explain took over, "I'm sorry I'm not getting up. I just had total knee replacement 6 weeks ago and it's hard to get up and down." I'm not really sure how the conversation continued. What I do remember is his wife joining us as the other woman continued on (why couldn't they do that too?). Somehow running came up, and God help me I don't want to be a broken record pity party, but I said something to the effect of how sad I was about not being able to run on the beach--as though they'd care.

They did.

The man said, "We totally understand. We were marathon runners. I had to have both hips replaced and she had breast cancer and broke her femur. Now we just walk." Tears sprang to my eyes (you saw that coming didn't you?), I literally started spewing forth all my sadness, pointing to the pier, and moving my feet back and forth in the sand like I was running. They both just kept nodding. Finally I said, "What did you find to take the place of running?" She said, "Beer" while he said, "Nothing." Then they laughed. He continued, "No here's the honest truth, we have found nothing that replaces it. We still wish we could run marathons or even a 5K. We still get sad and angry. But for now we just walk and meet people like you." WOW! And I've been wanting to write about that for two days, but here's the thing. I wanted it to be life changing and to get me out of my funk. I wanted it to be my balm in Gilead--no that's not true, I wanted it to miraculously cure me.

A balm in Gilead is medicine that heals, but we all know it doesn't cure after one dose...

This morning I saw my friends walking towards me. About 10 yards from me the man bent down and picked something up. As they got closer he said, "Do you ever collect shells? We do. We like to find beautiful ones. I found this one just down there near you. I'd like you to have it." Tears again...."Thank you," I responded. "I'm going to put it on my desk at work to remind me of this time."

So three not two things:
1. God works through dogs and people and shells--
2. God works through technology
3. God works through writers like Justifying Jane

God works--God is never finished. I may never be completely over being sad about not running, but I believe it will get better (sooner rather than later would be good). God is working on it....

I Am a Modern Day Doubting Thomas

It had been a wonderful Easter weekend; I woke up to a bright sunny Easter Monday; sat down and opened my computer to read the readings for the upcoming Sunday.  I started, as I always do, with the Gospel.  Dear G--why do I have to have routine. Doubting Thomas!  Seriously?!?!?  I may have screamed it aloud, "I DO NOT WANT TO PREACH ON DOUBTING THOMAS!"  I'm not exaggerating when I say my body began to shake.

Why in the world did I agree to preach on Easter 2?  That was the stupidest thing I've ever done.  I have to leave the beach a day early just to preach on Doubting Thomas?  I must have had a momentary complete lapse of judgment when I agreed to that; now how to get out of it?

Dangnabit!  I can't get out of it.  Now I remembered.  The reason I agreed was because it was for my dear friend and colleague.  Why did I have to like him so much?  Why did I want to help him?  Then a lightbulb went on.  I'll use one of the other readings--okay it was a dim lightbulb--who doesn't preach on the Gospel this Sunday?  The lightbulb brightened; I can use my sermon from last year--

same text (John 20:19-31) different church. And if I remembered correctly, it was fairly well received.  Problem solved--now to head out for a run.

I began my run not yet turning on the book I was listening to and heard a voice in my head--the more reasonable voice in my head--"You cannot preach the same sermon.  Different community, different context, different time.  If you preach that same sermon you are in essence (see it was a different voice, who in the world says, 'in essence' to themselves?) saying that nothing has changed since last year.  You have not changed; the world has not changed; there has been no transformation.  If you preach that sermon you are saying that one Easter--one Holy Week--one journey into death and resurrection is all we have, and in essence (stupid words again) the powers of the world have won--will always win."

I began to cry.  I seem to be doing that a lot lately.  I began to cry because I realized that this Lent for the first time in my entire life I did journey into that deep dark place of pain and death--into doubt.  I cried because for the first time  in my life I did question the existence of God.  How in the world could I, a priest--a woman ordained in the Episcopal Church,  proclaim the Gospel when I in fact was Doubting Thomas in the flesh?

People were beginning to stare at me so I turned on my book hoping that would make me forget.  I was listening to Marcus Borg's and John Crossan's book, The Last Week: What the Gospels Really Teach About Jesus' Final Days in Jerusalem. (Harper One; January 2007)  Whatever anyone thinks about these two men as theologians, scholars, liberals or conservatives, I highly recommend this book.  (At least I do now...)

First sentence, seriously very first sentence I heard was, "Growing up the only thing worse than being called a Doubting Thomas was being called Judas."  That did NOT help stop the tears.  But I was crossing the road so I couldn't look down and turn off the book without being hit by a car--the next sentence was something to the effect of, "Just because Thomas doubted doesn't mean he didn't have faith.  But Jesus wanted Thomas to believe and in the Gospel of John believing is about relationship. Jesus wanted to be in relationship with Thomas." And, I thought, Thomas desperately wanted to be in relationship with Jesus.

Perhaps, and possibly worth exploring, I have also been Judas; however, what mattered to me in that moment is that I felt the deep deep pain of Thomas.  I suppose he felt left out and alone.  He hadn't been there with the others--the others believed, had a relationship, and Thomas desperately wanted to believe--to still be in relationship.  I realized that was exactly what happened to me; I was feeling left out and alone--abandoned.  And it struck me hard--what Thomas needed to believe--to be in relationship, to feel relationship--was to touch the wounds of Jesus.  Last year I preached, "Jesus
meets us where we are and in the way we need to be met." I remembered; I had been met where I needed to be met--in and through my wonderful community of teachers and friends--God had not abandoned me; I experienced God through these people. Through them God's existence was again clear--okay not crystal clear but becoming more clear and definitely real and good.  Through my friends I re-believed that God was working to end my pain and was still clearly working in the world to end pain.  My friends and many others are participating with God.

I have to admit, I wasn't entirely convinced I could preach this sermon.  Words of my preaching professors floated in and out of my mind--"do not make the sermon about you.  Make certain your sermon is about proclaiming the Gospel and not a self help talk."  This was going to be a struggle.  I am still hurting; how do I hide that so that I don't make it about me?

I'm not sure....what I did realize on that run was that God was and is transforming the world.  God was and is transforming both personal lives and communities--even when we as individuals, me as an individual don't see it.   As the book says, "Jesus passion was the Kingdom of God and the Kingdom of God is about compassion."  The book continues by saying if we are to follow "the way" we are to enter into personal and political transformation--dying to egoism defined as centering in the anxious and fearful self; its concerns and desires and further compassion and love is central to the life of Jesus and justice is the social form of compassion.

God invites us to participate in the continuing transformation of the world, and I have seen that this year.  I have seen people, communities become passionate about God's passion.  I have seen people and communities come together to love and to strive for justice--people whose only common bond is belief in equality.  As Bishop White says, "God loves everyone no exceptions."  I have seen people living out this truth.

Borg and Crossan write (I'm remembering this and tried to write it down as I was listening so this is not directly quoting) that love is the soul of justice and justice is the flesh--the body of love.  Good Friday is about how powerful the forces of the world are but Easter affirms the Jesus is Lord--the power of the world is not.

I've procrastinated working on this sermon although it's been in floating in the recesses of my mind all week.  I have never been able to totally get away from it.  Yesterday I was touring the College of Charleston with William (a whole other blog--seriously I have a third child getting ready for college?) and as we were standing in front of the library we saw and heard a group of protestors--all

ages, all races, approaching, "Show me what democracy looks like?  This is what democracy looks like." they shouted over and over.  I heard, "Show me what the Kingdom of God looks like?  This is what the Kingdom looks like."  (yes, it's true I teared up).

I know I have to preach on this--from the depths of my soul, from my personal pain and from the hope I have seen in the world.  I have 10 hours in the car today to think about it--I have no idea what the sermon will be but I believe what Borg and Crossan say, "Easter mean's God's great clean up of the world has begun."