by Liz | Aug 2, 2010 | main
Last week I spent a couple of days where I had to just breathe and be in order maintain composure.
I wonder at some things — like what are folks who tend toward certain political stances afraid of? I hear the fear and self-defense of those who support the T-party. It seems that all one, with a different take on things, has to do is breathe in their presence and all of that emotion (which to me seem to be mostly fear and hatred) belch forth like a geyser.
I’m trying to comprehend a bit of this: A relative recently proclaimed that I wear blinders because I don’t willingly listen/watch Fox News. The fact that I strongly suspect that this relative hasn’t listened to/watched anything else in years, makes me wonder about the blinders. But, I digress… If I am in the same room with this person, and make the error of mentioning almost anything that could have political overtones, I see the claws and fangs come out. I see the defenses go up. I know, when I see that, that I am about to be called defensive.
Hmmm…. with my daughter, we seem to be able to talk a bit with one another. She actually makes statements and will listen to a response. She can articulate where we might disagree. She is open as well to hear that maybe her perception is a bit off. I find myself able to listen to her, and I think she can hear me. We come to different places, but, at least, with the 2 of us, we can have some sort of dialogue.
Not so, with some others.
And so, I breathe. In and out. Am I here? Now? Breathe. In and out. Let go. Pray for myself. Pray for those that you perceive as persecuting you. Pray for those that seem to think that you want to persecute them. Breathe. In and out. Let God be present. Breathe. In and out. Smile. Know that perhaps, it could be a positive sign — if your presence causes those who would divide instead of unite to put up defenses then you are doing something right. Breathe. In and out. Now.
by Liz | Jun 23, 2010 | main
Today was one of those days that started out feeling like nothing would go smoothly. Just before leaving house for my group meeting, I got a call from another member. She asked if I could possibly give her a ride from the car detailing place so she could make it to group and get her car cleaned. Sure! So I took my time, but still forgot my gym bag. Got to the car place – no Gail. I waited a while, then decided I had better meet the other member of this morning’s group (I wasn’t sure if I had Rosie’s cell phone, and I didn’t know whether she would have it at all — maybe I don’t even know if she has one!);
Feeling a bit disordered, I call home and get Gail’s number. No answer. Oh well — off to Panera. Call home again — the husband’s eyes were foggy — he gave me the wrong number the first time. I said — I’ll give that a try. Luck! Answering machine this time! Leave a message. Get to Panera, get my coffee and scone. My cell rings! I had missed Gail by not waiting 60 seconds longer. Go figure.
Leave scone on the table with Rosie. Back to get Gail. Feeling really discombobilated (is that a word? I sure it’s a valid feeling) now. Wondering what else can go wrong – as I also realize that I left my gym bag at house. Drat!
Breathe. Go with the flow. Get Gail. Return to Panera. Wonderful sharing and pray. Aah. More peace.
Back in the car to take Gail to the car place. It’s not ready! She’ll have to wait another hour.
Oh – did I mention that place is a car detail shop and a barber shop which caters primarily to African American men? Oh, and the barber shop is the only place to wait that has Air Conditioning (this is summer in the deep south, folks).
Brief discussion and Gail and I head off to the gym. I am wearing my sneakers, so we walk fast and talk for 50 minutes. Then she decides to play coach while we do some ab work. Then back to the detail/barber shop (I’m getting tired of this place now!).
It makes me happy to have been able to go with the flow. I know Gail much better now. We shared a lot this morning getting to know each other better. I feel like I truly do have a new friend.
So — despite what I thought must be attempts to separate me from God and my peace of mind, it turned into a grand morning, all in all. Some days you do have to look for God in the whisper (not in the storm or fire or earthquake). Some days, you just have to be open and listen. (Maybe I was listening when I elected to wear my sneakers instead my flip flops). Some days, it just pays to remember that little prayer:
God, grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change
The courage to change the things I can
And the wisdom to know the difference
Couldn’t change the car guy, couldn’t have a “do-over” and wait and another minute… Could go back, could go back, could pay attention, could change my plans…
Thanks Lord.
by Liz | Jun 19, 2010 | main
Last week I was asked to do something — it gave me pause. That request is still sitting out there, and it is for something good. To say “Yes” would mean doing something good. But, it is also a bit terrifying to me. And so, I asked for a week to pray about it.
Thoughts came and went. Prayer came and went. First reaction was “I can’t do this.” Next reaction: Maybe I can, but I’m not sure I want to. Third reaction: Let’s pretend I say “Yes” and see how it sits.
It sat. It sat and sat and sat. It sat in my lap and smiled up at me and said “See – you can do this! You can live up to the expectations of others. You can do it now and get it over with and feel so good that you did it.” I think it might have purred a little while it sat there and tried to seduce me. But, still, there was a nagging sense that I wasn’t looking closely enough. Maybe I should inspect those neatly gloved claws.
This morning I awoke with a very strong sense of what I needed to do to help decide how to proceed. I needed to ask someone specific for help, were I to say “Yes.” And so I decided to call her and ask. And see what her answer told me. But, it was too early (I might wake her up) and she might be out of town (did it matter that then I would just get the answering machine?). I fidgeted. I stalled. I realized that a very big part of me was afraid she would say “Sure! I can do that!” and then I would indeed have to say “Yes” myself.
Finally, I called her number. Answering machine. But, I left a message and sure enough she called back about an hour later. Much to my surprise, she said that she really couldn’t do what I was asking. She gave solid reasons. The most telling was “It’s just where I am right now. And I’m not backing down.” Whoa! I wasn’t trying to make her back down. We talked. Her answer was “No.” I felt all of the tension leave my body. I understood. It wasn’t that she said “No.” It was the reasoning and the way she said it. It was hearing someone stand their ground and say “This is not for me do to at this time.”
My answer will be very much the same. I feel sorrow that I can’t say “Yes.” But, after I made my decision, and stood up for it with someone who really wants me to do it, I also got an email with a quote from St. Vincent de Paul: (I’ve substituted Those for the name of a particular group that was being addressed):
[Those] who carry out their ministries in the way mentioned, but without the right intention, aren’t pleasing to God, who asks first for the heart and, after than, for the work.
I have a friend who resigned from heading up a ministry because she came to the conclusion that she was there for all the wrong reasons. That upset some folks. But, I’ve seen her continue in ministry in other ways. She knew what she saw in the mirror. She came to my mind frequently as I wrestled with the decision.
And so — at least for now, I rest easy with “No.”
by Liz | Feb 13, 2010 | main
In her post this morning, Maintaining Wide Boundaries, Susan reflects on the views of an Episcopal bishop on the belief that it is better to have a few heretics in church than to push people out. The goal is to keep people in dialogue and therefore keep alive the possibility of conversion and allow God’s love to work. And that conversion, to me, seems to be something that can happen on either or both sides of disagreement.
In the past, I have felt “pushed out.” In reality, I did move from one parish to another by my choice, but that choice was tempered by a strong, painful sense of being pushed to the door and having it held open for me. It was driven by a need to find a home where I felt welcomed, even when I wasn’t necessarily agreed with. In the long run, it was “a good thing” — and my new home opened many doors and paved the way for a deeper understanding of God’s love. Eventually, with this support, I could make my peace with the other community. I could be transformed and forgive. It took a long time, but seldom, it seems does real conversion happen in an instant. It is a process.
And process is what I see the Bishop talking about. I have watched and listened as members of my family, who are members of the Episcopal Church, have made their own way through the upheavals in their church. I am always impressed when I see them love their church, even when they are concerned. I see them struggle to understand the way that others live out their faith. They love their community, warts and all. They are transformed in their own struggle.
Thanks Susan — I needed to read this reflection this morning.
by Liz | Feb 11, 2010 | main
Todays gospel (Mark 7:24-30) has always bothered me. It relates the story of a gentile woman, a mother, who begs Jesus to banish the unclean spirit from her daughter. And Jesus answers, initially, that it’s not right to give the food for the children to the dogs. After she pursues the request, stating that even the dogs get to eat the crumbs that fall at the children’s feet, he sends her on her way with the child having been healed.
This just doesn’t fit into my image of Jesus or God. Sorry. I know that God doesn’t have to fit my image, but really – this just strikes me as so far off the mark. Is it just showing that Jesus, too, was having to grow in understanding of God’s Love? Is it there to remind us that each one has the responsibility to point out truth to the powers that be? I don’t know.
What I do know is that it eats at me. This vignette forces me to look beyond simply because it seems so very wrong and out of place. Hence, I do ponder the idea that it could be illustration that everyone, even the Christ, must grow in God’s Love — that we don’t start with the full picture, and probably never have the full picture. I ponder whether it is meant [at least for me] as a reminder that instruction and insight can come from the most unexpected quarter. This woman was an outsider, a stranger, not one of the blessed, ordained bearers of Truth. And yet, she proclaims Truth – maybe from wisdom, maybe from desperation, maybe from selfishness. But, she fights for what she knows to be needed and knows to be True. And her child is saved.
I live in hope that I will both listen and speak when I know it has to be done.
