Running the Race

A while back, one of my vocational spiritual directors (I meet with a couple) reminded me to keep a "learner's attitude" as I was navigating a confusing and seemingly aimless season of life.

I had graduated from my dream school and moved to work at a school in a city with a competitive environment.  Little by little, as I transitioned from being a student to an administrator, my mindset shifted from one of openness and learning to one of achievement and self-protection.

Getting into a graduate program has reminded me of the joy of approaching life as a student.  Being a working professional can make one feel that our sole existence is to produce results, but the learning should never stop.  

My co-worker said the other day that his goal each year is to be a rookie at something so that he never gets into a rut.  I think that's a great approach to life (and aging)!

When I finish my days on earth, I want to feel like I completed the degree of life to the best of my ability.  No matter what I may have accomplished, I want to know that I had a teachable attitude and learning spirit.

Is this not one iteration of what Paul describes in 2 Timothy 4:7?

Give Me Jesus

Right now, I am listening to sacred choral music on KUSC, which they broadcast every Sunday morning.

Lent continues, and although I have not technically given up anything, I do find that there is more space in my soul for introspection and reflection.  I am watching far less TV/Netflix, and I am feeling more connected to God, myself, and slowly, others.  This is a little terrifying at times, because I am an introvert who has been living alone in a cold city for a while now and who has, in many ways, intentionally distanced myself from many of the connections that clamor for my attention.

I was a telling a friend on the phone yesterday that feeling connected to oneself often means the difference between feeling isolated and feeling recharged.

I woke up feeling the grace of connection.  (Yesterday did not feel this way, and I longed for it.)  I journaled a bit and then walked down the street to get a bagel and a turmeric latte.  After breakfast (eaten to a beautiful rendition of "Give Me Jesus" by Barbara Hendricks with the Moses Hogan Chorale), I wrote a few postcards and then opened my laptop to blog.

Church comes later, but my worship has already begun.

And when the morning ends, at noon, I will be rising from my pew as the minister says, "Now ends our worship, and our service begins."

Amen.

Reflection 7: Redemption

All creation groans until the redemption...

19 For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God;20 for the creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope 21 that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.22 We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now;23 and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies.

(Rom 8:19-23)

I have felt this groaning in my early 30s.  32 came upon me a month ago, and I realized that I needed to renew my efforts towards healthy living, lest age catch up to me.

My mom was the mother of 2 children when she was my age.  Like me, she had 2 master's degrees, but she had also emigrated to a foreign country and was married.

Life is not what I had imagined--living by myself, far away from family and community.  I have a great job, but there are some things money can't buy.

But I am grateful.  Today was the last day of an extended weekend, thanks to President's Days.  My roommate and I drove 2 hours west to the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, MA.  We both really enjoyed 2 hours of looking at his artwork, and then we grabbed lunch at Main Street Cafe.  It was a beautiful day--amazingly warm for February--with a (mostly--things change quickly in New England!) blue sky and miles of woods bare from winter.

We left our apartment at 8:30 and got home at 4:30.  Though we live together, it was our first "full-time day" together.

I took a nap, and at 6:30, I went to a Strengthen and Stretch class at the YMCA.  It kicked my butt =)

When I got home, I checked the mail.  There was an admissions packet from Claremont School of Theology, offering me an invitation/opportunity to begin a Ph.D in Spiritually Integrative Psychotherapy this fall!

There is so much to process and think about and eventually plan.  But right now, I feel grateful and humbled and excited to embark on whatever comes next in this journey of life.

Yes, we are still awaiting redemption, but moments like this give foretastes of the fulfillment of hope.

Reflection 6: Wrestling with God and Returning to our Past

For the last 2 evenings, I have listened to sermons from Reservoir Church, the church I first went to when I moved to Boston.  Although it's been 6 months since I have set foot in the building, I still feel connected to what this community is up to.  This fall, they hired a Korean-American female pastor, which was something I cared about deeply and was encouraged by.  And currently, during Lent, their sermons are a weekly boost--a protein shake to augment my regular meals (personal devotions).

This evening's sermon talked about Jacob wrestling with God before his reunion with Esau.  It talked about his shift from being a hustler (favored and looked after by God, but also conniving with his human smarts) to being weakened by God's touch.

Over a year ago, I had my own wrestling match with God--to the point where I literally felt, for a few days, a soreness in my hip that resulted in a slight limp.

Recently, I felt God speaking to me (while I was watching a move on Netflix, of all times) and saying, "You need to make peace with your past."

Like Jacob, I have been led far away from my community of origin--from the people and beliefs that raised me and blessed me and from which I fled.  Leaving the Evangelical world and mindset has been excruciating at times, and this has been one of my loneliest years--not for lack of people who care, but because it's been hard to share with people exactly what my process has been like.

Making peace with my past is not exactly the same as Jacob seeing Esau again, but I've taken the liberty of relating to this story in ways that I hope will spur me to more connection and healing and growth.

Reflection 5: Death

Yesterday, I had a conversation with a friend about knowing people--in the prime of their lives--who recently passed away.  For some, it was drug overdose.  For others, it was despair causing them to take their own lives.

Today, the lectionary passage was on Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead.  The sermon at United Parish was titled: "Live and Let Die" and had the accompanying blog post: http://www.unitedparishbrookline.org/blog/live-and-let-die

Aside from ontological mysteries, there are smaller deaths that I ponder.  A while ago, I asked God to take away a particular spiritual gift because it seemed to be getting in the way of me relating well to others.  Not that there was anything wrong with the gift, but maybe I wasn't yet mature enough to handle it.

It's like what it says in the chapter we all know so well:

If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. 3 If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. 9 For we know in part and we prophesy in part, 10 but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. 11 When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. 12 For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Reflection 4: Discernment of Spirits

Work can be a very stressful place.   I often find it hard to explain to people why I feel so drained from work.  Part of it is that I am an introvert, so to have my office open to students and coworkers streaming in and out is exhausting.  Part of it is that taking public transportation and walking to work exposes me to winter elements that give me fatigue.  But I think part of it is that there is a spirit of unhealthiness at my workplace that is hard to put into words.

I actually came to a clearer sense of this yesterday, when two colleagues who have significant power at school happened to be out of the office on the same day.  It seemed to me that the overall atmosphere was much lighter, and that teachers were interacting with one another with a spirit of camaraderie and support rather than complaining and backstabbing.  Just to make sure I wasn't making things up, I asked my office-suite-mate if she noticed it too.  She said she did...

Sometimes people carry a certain spirit--for example, a spirit of bitterness, fear, control--that they are not even quite aware of.  Scripture says we are not to "wrestle...against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places."  I wonder what it would look like for me to resist/pray against unhealthy spirits in other people while being totally for them as people.  I have to confess that it's sometimes hard for me to separate a person from what they carry, but I'd like to try to look at others the way Jesus did--with compassion and with love.

Reflection 3: Intercession

A friend of mine texted and asked if I would be willing to pray regularly with her.  She has felt that we are both intercessors--it takes one to know one, I suppose, and two is certainly better than one!

Intercession is another word that has somehow dropped off of my radar screen.  But looking back, it's always been a part of my spiritual identity and how I tend to operate within Christ's body.

In college, I prayed regularly with a few girl friends.  At Hope Christian Fellowship, I was part of the prayer team.  At Yale, I also prayed regularly with friends.  And I was invited to join the prayer ministry at Elm City Vineyard before I moved to Boston.

In Boston, this identity fled from my consciousness, in part because there was no one to really pray with.  Also, because my theology was undergoing major overhaul, it was hard to find people to pray with that would be able to understand my perspective on the issues I was wrestling through. 

And yet, in the loneliness of the wilderness, I have not been able to stop the prophetic part of myself from operating.  Even in times when I told God I needed a break from being a Christian, I would find myself being awoken at dawn to write down the visions and words that I was receiving.

Intercession is behind-the-scenes work that involves spiritual warfare, pangs of childbirth, and seeing and feeling things before others in the church become aware.  I didn't choose this role, but if it's what has been assigned, then I'm in!