by Liz | Mar 21, 2011 | main
Or Discerning when the answer to “Here I am Lord. Is it I Lord?” is “Not you, not now.”
I’m just back from being a part of the team for a Women’s Cursillo Weekend. The spring weekends in this diocese are held over at the Blessed Trinity Shrine Retreat which is a spot that I firmly believe to be Holy Ground. And, as so often happens when we put ourselves on holy ground, some interesting insights occur.
Listening to one of my “Sistas” (inside joke, sista!) talk, had a bit of understanding sink in. It might be difficult at times to be the leaven in the situation or function as the salt of the earth in a particular spot… and that is ok. Do it. But, at the same time, it might just be that the answer is: this one is not mine to fix. I am in the wrong place at the wrong time. And until I follow my own path to the right place, I can in no way be that leaven or salt.
It’s approaching the 1 year mark since I left a position I had for nearly 26 years. I know that I am more at peace inside. I know this was the right thing to do. The choice of when to leave was a difficult one, true. But, I’m really not looking back. I have a couple of folks that I keep contact with, but, essentially it was time to let go.
In that work situation, I was so often frustrated because I would find myself being the source of discontent and disruption. I didn’t want to be. I had just gotten to that place where I had to admit that it was time to change. It seems that I had to let go of a lot of things: my seniority (fat lot of good that was doing), a place to go everyday (that had gotten oppressive), an area of expertise that I had never sought (I knew my stuff, I was good, I really didn’t have a personal interest in it); But, these things were some of the building blocks of how I defined myself. And as I struggled with these, and other issues, I was unable to be a light, or to be a positive influence on my situation. As Christians, we often know the call to bloom where you are planted; we often know the call to be an agent of change. We don’t always honor it, but we probably suspect that it is there.
And so, I had to learn/accept that it was time to let go. Move on. We can’t give what we don’t have. So, I had to understand that in this case, the question “Is it I Lord?” was blessedly “Nope. Not you. Not now.” What a relief!
Interesting aside: Recently, I’ve had the experience of people coming up to me and remarking that they see transformation in me. Whoa! I see it in another friend who made the same sort of change at about the same time — but it is good to have the affirmation in my own life. Perhaps I can now be a bit of salt and light in this world.
by Liz | Jan 11, 2011 | main
In my daily movements around this side of town, I frequently pass a sign at a local church that gives me pause. Actually, to be honest, I pass the sign and I am disturbed.
It is a banner sporting a view of the back of a fellow’s [bald/shaved] head which he seems to be clutching in frustration. The sign reads “Hard questions answered here.”
I pass it and ponder. It’s all wrong to me. In frustration, I have been known to nearly shout “If God would just give me the syllabus for this course called Life, then maybe I could pass the course. Just give me a chance to study up on the answers!” So, I rather understand the desire of the man depicted on the sign. Really. I do.
Faith just doesn’t seem to work that way. Oh, there are times when I get answers. Sometimes I even like the answers, but often I’m not fond of them. But, mostly, I find that answers are not spelled out. Answers are definitely not black and white and are definitely not things that can be applied blindly to all situations. I seek answers and the answer I get most frequently is “I am the way” — which I have finally learned means — “Walk with me, and we’ll deal with everything as it comes up.” Often, the answer only leads to more questions.
It seems that so many people just want the right answer to parrot. It seems that we often want the answers fed to us instead of taking the responsibility for our own learning. I know that there are many times that it would be so much easier to just have someone tell me what is right or what to do rather than listen in the context of my own relationship with Love.
I would think far more positively if that sign read “Tough questions? We can walk/sit with you as you listen for answers.”
That sign just bugs me.
by Liz | Nov 29, 2010 | main
Today is Madeleine L’Engle’s birthday. I read “A Wrinkle in Time” in the 5th grade and never forgot this author. Apparently, this most wonderful of books was turned down by 26 different publishers before it was finally published and won a Newberry Award. For me — I am so glad that publisher number 27 took a chance.
A few years ago I discovered that Madeleine L’Engle wrote more than “A Wrinkle in Time.” I went on a journey through her writings and found not only more children’s / juvenile fiction (which I read as and adult I found out about them), but I also discovered her other side — a deeply spiritual person. Who knew that the author of “A Wrinkle in Time” and it’s sequels, “A Wind at the Door” and “A Swiftly Tilting Planet” could communicate so profoundly about a time in her own life as she transistioned from wife to widow?
Anyway, I’ll pick up my copy of “Glimpses of Grace: Daily Thoughts and Reflections” and celebrate her birthday today.
Books by Madeleine L’Engle (found on Amazon)
by Liz | Jun 2, 2010 | main
Looking at yesterday’s post, and considering today’s email that I get from Richard Rohr — Today, the email talks about standing naked before God being somewhat like standing naked before your lover and knowing that you are loved despite imperfections or an aging body. I look at my eternal circle and realized that each time I make the complete circle, I am able to undress a bit more, and know a bit more deeply that I am loved.
Let’s go ’round again.
by Liz | Mar 29, 2010 | main
Almost all gospel stories can call me to reflect on who I might be in the picture. Yesterday’s accounting of the crucifiction of Jesus from the Gospel of Luke causes me to wonder which thief I would have been: the wise, repentant one who accepted himself and asked “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom” or the the self-serving, angry one who didn’t accept his own failings and tried to get Jesus to save himself and save them as well? I’d really like to think I’m the one who came to his senses. I fear I am the one who just wanted another way out. Either way, I’m pretty sure I’m not Jesus in the center, giving everything for Love.
Walking through Holy Week, I’ll be pondering this idea. I come closer to grasping the gospel value of being servant and seeking the best for others. But, this pain thing, is hard. Granted, I delivered 3 children without the benefits of anesthesia – and did so by choice. But, the first time that choice was informed as much by a fear of the needle required for an epidural as much as the desire to feel, and live the process fully and to give my child the best start possible. For the other 2, I had discovered I could do it! And live! And recover quite nicely. Perhaps I can learn to face this idea of pain more openly after all. Then I can allow myself to see me as clearly as God sees me. And who knows where that can lead me?
De Colores!
