Spirituality – Eyes to See

Power With the People

The life of Jesus we have recorded is a treasure-trove of knowledge for ministry. His life and the way he served people has been the spotlight of sermons, books and leadership training for centuries. Yet, two thousand years later, many people teach leadership and ministry apart from his gentle ways.

Other religions have even taken a page from Jesus. Gandhi is famed for saying he’ll take our Jesus, but not our Christians. Islam regards Him as a prophet. Most atheists are willing to bend and say he was a historical being. Regardless of your views of who Jesus was, He shows us through various stories the real key to service. Jesus always served from a place of Presence. He made himself available. He spent his time WITH people.

Real leaders suffers with people. You can’t throw a Bible study at someone going through a hard time. You can’t throw up a 30 second prayer at someone in the throes of despair. You can’t quote a Bible verse when someone’s heart is in their throat after receiving life-altering news.

The key to suffering with people is humility. Jesus was able to engage because he was willing to be humble. He was willing to see and know people’s mess, without coming from a place of judgment or rightness. He didn’t tell people “this is what you should feel.” He sat with, broke bread with, embraced, walked with and lived with people as a human being.

As a leader, Jesus didn’t ask people to be 100% committed to his vision. He simply invited people to follow Him.

As a leader, Jesus realized his friends would make mistakes. He established relationship with people, always making himself willing listen to the perspectives and feedback of those He served, seeking to empower and encourage them in their roles. He made space for grace when mistakes happened.

As a leader, Jesus set clear guidelines for the work He expected others to do and He took responsibility as a leader without finger pointing & ultimatums.

As a leader, Jesus created opportunities for inclusion and radical welcome. He invited people to sit at His table. And even after his closest friend Peter denied Him, Jesus chose to walk THROUGH reconciliation with Peter.

I am utterly heartbroken that so many Christian leaders and ministers do not emulate this type of leadership. It seems there’s regular news stories on “famous” Christian leaders being found out for their sexual deviance, abuse or cover ups. This is not a reflection on the heart of God! I have empathy for the droves of people walking away from American Evangelical faith because of the hurt and pain. I am embarrassed to be lumped into the label of “Christian” with people who ascribe to and use God as a way to harm others.

I’ve seen it play out in real life. When hardship arises, I’ve watched leaders quickly ask for blind following, instead of walking alongside in gentle humility for restoration. I have seen gifted, passionate, godly leaders feel obligated to pledge commitment to a mission statement over people. I have seen willing hands and open hearts let go from fields ripe for harvest because those running the show think they should use only their tools or interpretation. We create arbitrary ways of serving God and pressure creative, humble hearts to conform or to get off the field. That’s not Christlike leadership- that’s a power play.

While the buzz word for years in Christian spaces has been “Servant Leadership,” many leaders in our modern time want the notoriety to be called a servant of God, they just don’t want to be treated like one. In order to become a true servant leader, we must have the wisdom and willingness to walk in true humility.

I am sick of power being cultivated, encouraged and worshipped in Christian spaces. We click and follow leaders who teach dogma and defend them on Facebook threads. We feel comfortable drawing boundary lines for God’s love. We let leaders tell us what the wisdom of the ages means, through their interpretation. We go along with the “rules” of the church because we’re afraid of losing our community.

The Reformation took place half a century ago because of Martin Luther’s belief in the priesthood of all believers. And in a few short centuries, we traded in our Popes for our trendy preachers with muscle shirts and Armani suits. Instead of collecting money for the Vatican to be built, we’re collecting money to build multi-million dollar stagescapes while the single Moms in the pews can barely make ends meet or the homeless person is begging bread on the corner. Is this what Jesus had in mind?

The only way we can reclaim a Christ-centered faith is to take the priesthood of all believers seriously. We who cling to Jesus must learn to love God, ourself and others, in deeply personal ways. We need to stand up and stop putting leaders on pedestals and using them as gurus for how to live like Christ. We have to look within our self as beings capable of being known and loved by God. When we can be attuned to our inner life, then we have capacity for empathy and walking alongside. We don’t need more theologians and apologists; we need more people who look and act like Jesus.

I challenge you to see who you’re following. Is it really Jesus? Or your Pastor? That Instagram preacher? Are they walking alongside others, or commanding others? The church is full of wolves in sheep’s clothing, and we’re seeing an unveiling of this truth on repeat. Christlike leadership doesn’t see people as a means to an end but as relationships to develop, as co-laborers running in tandem, without someone “in charge.”

You and I are people who make mistakes, and will never be perfect leaders. Serving Jesus isn’t about authority. It’s about equality. We have One Shepherd. Jesus is enough. He sets the table- he doesn’t bang on it and demand we do it His way or the highway. He ministers through loving us first, then by knowing and serving his sheep. He didn’t stop when it got hard- he pressed into the hard, scorning the cross of sin and shame, to die and resurrect. He didn’t tell Peter to walk away when they disagreed, or he denied him three times or even disobeyed. Jesus kept on leading and loving, give him grace without measure. Good leadership doesn’t marginalize those who pushback because it acknowledges leadership is about relationship. And Jesus was, is and always will be for relationship. His power will always be with people, and never over people.

Holy Week

To some degree, we all divide things into categories. It’s human nature. This week, as Chrsitian’s observe Holy Week, I find myself pondering: “what does holy mean, anyway?” I want to know it beyond the Hebrew or Greek definition…. Yes, we are “set apart,” but what exactly from?

Holy is another way of describing something supernatural. In faith, we consider communion, prayer, scripture reading, corporate worship, relationships, and marriage to be sacred. Material things, jobs, education, friendship, celebrating and the like is usually categorized as secular.

We divide out things into sacred activity and other things go into the secular category, as though they are dichotomies. We try to live life in spheres- church, home, work and the world. I believe this is why so many Christians are struggling. We compartmentalize our lives and don’t live authentically. We put on our mask for each sphere we operate within, and think we must keep parts of our lives hidden and separate from the other. On Sunday morning, we’re proper in our pew but on Thursday night we’re flipping people off on our drive home. Or we are teaching Sunday School but tearing people down with our words in the workplace. No wonder why we are thought of so hypocritically.

I believe sacred and secular aren’t opposites. I believe God became incarnate, became flesh and blood. If Jesus lives in our humanness, than all activities and elements of my life become sacred. Sacred means “holy or divine” yet I don’t think we can separate our experience with the Divine from our humanity. Jesus was human. He became like us to bring the sacred to us. Every ordinary thing is sacred. Every day, week, and month holy. All the ways we connect with God are through our humanity- we utter prayer with our lips, read scriptures or observe nature with our eyes, or practice silence by stilling our tongue.

Isn’t it sacred to hold a newborn baby?

Isn’t it sacred to feel fully known and loved by your spouse?

Isn’t it sacred to stand on top of a mountain and behold beauty?

Conceiving, carrying and birthing is a human experience. Choosing a companion, falling in love, and being committed in marriage is a hard, yet uniquely human experience. Hiking up a mountain, breathless and exhausted, is a physical experience. Those things we feel with our flesh can open our hearts to the Divine just as keenly as “church” can.

The fruits of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22-23) are holy. Love, joy, peace, kindness, faithfulness, gentleness, patience, goodness, and self-control are all deeply human experiences. To love, to feel joy, to have peace, to act with gentleness, to be patient, to find goodness, and to be self-controlled are possible because we are connected with God. Jesus is in us, so we are invited to participate in His promptings.

In Exodus 3:1-6, there’s a story about Moses encountering a burning bush. He hears the voice of the Divine say “Take your shoes off, for you are standing on holy ground.” Moses was just working, minding his own business, tending his sheep in the wilderness. In an instant, a brush fire became revelation. God reveals himself to Moses in non-sacred activity, in his every day routine and work. When Moses became aware of God’s presence in the mundane, he then heard the Divine revelation that the ground was holy. The ground itself did not change in that moment; instead, Moses’ perspective shifted. He saw God in the ordinary.

What if we did the same? We have separated our human experience and called it secular, reserving holiness only for Sunday mornings.

In this season of transition in my life, I am not observing Lent and Holy Week how I have in the past. I do not have a church to attend in our new place. Covid still prohibits many places of worship from gathering. I’m not giving things up for Lent or doing a Lenten Bible Study. I couldn’t receive ashes on Ash Wednesday. I didn’t get a palm branch to fold up into a cross on Palm Sunday. I am not attending or facilitating a Seder meal, Tenebrae or Good Friday service. And I’m not even sure I’ll go to church Easter Morning. It’s not because I don’t love Jesus or believe in community. It is just the reality of my life in this current time.

But you know… I see the Sacred and Holy everywhere I look. Creation testifies of the goodness of God here in Hawaii. Every beach and mountain top is sacred. Every new species of bird I observe is holy. Every person I pass in the hotel lobby is sacred. Every night, as I look into the eyes of my husband and kiss him goodnight, I find something set-apart. My children cuddled up on our couch as I read a book to them is holy. While rituals and tradition are meaningful, sometimes finding God in the ordinary rhythms of our life is just as awe-inspiring as a beautifully led church service.

Understanding that church is the Body of Christ and not just a nicely planned service with a bulletin means living a a set-apart life has little to do with our Sunday morning. Holiness is a lifestyle. We are not set apart to become special Sunday morning country-clubs. We are set apart to see God in all and through all. Holiness then becomes our humanity, every experience ripe with the Divine.

God is in all things.

God cannot be cloistered inside walls- He is God WITH us. Emmanuel. This year I find Holy Week hidden in the faces of my family, as we break the bread, say cheers with our dinner drinks, and enjoy a nice meal. I find Holy Week hidden in the nightly prayers of gratitude we say aloud. I find Holy Week in the thorny bushes found along the seashore. I find it in the sticks used to roast thorns. I see resurrection every morning as the sun rises. There is something holy outside the walls of our churches, if only we have the eyes to see.

Blog Spirituality

Temple View

Matthew 4 holds a story about Jesus‘ time in the wilderness. He is joined by the tempter, and travels with him to the highest point of the temple- the southeast corner. When they arrive, the tempter says “throw yourself down,” and then quotes Psalm 91 to Jesus, inciting that surely the angels can rescue Jesus. The question the tempter poses is this: “Don’t you have faith in God? Won’t he take care of you?”

This question has become the mantra of Modern Christianity. The lyrics of George Michael boil our faith down to this: “You just got to have faith.” If you just believe, you’ll receive. If you can quote a verse about blessing, God will come through.

We see the poor on the street and we pray: “God provide for them!” Yet we never open our wallet. We see the broken-hearted and we say “God has a plan!” Yet we refuse to journey with them through their valley of grief. We see crumbling marriages and we say “God hates divorce! Just go to this marriage retreat or read this book. It holds the secrets to improve your marriage.” Yet every night spouses sleep in different rooms, so hurt and wounded they can’t find common ground.

Jesus‘ response to the tempter is one we can all take more seriously. In Matthew 4:7, Jesus says “do not put the Lord your God to the test.”

Trying to put God to the test is it’s own crisis in Christianity. We think there are formulas for getting what we need from God. We really live from a belief of magic or superstition most of the time. God is not a king in heaven to be bribed or manipulated by gifts, prayers or deeds.

We see evidence of this mentality of God as a genie in a bottle. Why are powerful people so inclined to go off the rails? Wouldn’t more power or money make us better people? Yet when we look to the ultra rich, we see the fruit: bullying, entitlement, sexual harassment, arrogance, elitism, excessive consumerism. Power seems often to corrupt. It’s why Jesus said “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God” (Luke 6:20).

Jesus teaches us that power is not for the benefit of the powerful. He shows us in his temptation that power was meant to benefit the powerless. Power is for with-ness, for relationship. Gaining power over the kingdoms of the world seems like a noble and right thing to do, but we see in Jesus’ life He didn’t come to gain power over anything.

Maybe temptations aren’t always about the things we could sin by doing. Thomas Merton said

“the greatest temptations are not those that solicit our consent to obvious sin, but those that offer us great evils masking as the greatest goods.”

Sometimes temptations come to help us find our priorities. Sometimes temptations come to help us remember we are empowered, but should not be powering over anyone else.

The Temple Jesus stood atop during this discourse is intentional I think, and points to a larger application. Jesus didn’t use the temple to display his power or glory. He didn’t use his position to tower over the world or display spiritual authority. The temple today is us. Whole-hearted faith includes both our spiritual self and our humanity. Whatever it is we have, it is not for us. Our wealth is not to for the benefit of being wealthy; it is for being with the poor. Influence is not primarily for the benefit of the influential; it’s for using influence to empower the weak.

What’s in your hand? Surrender it and see it for what it is. You didn’t hustle and earn it. You were given it to help others. Choose whom you will serve today.

Blog Spirituality

Sabbath is Self-Care

Self-care is usually categorized as “worldly” or in another camp outside of our spiritual practices. The idea of Sabbath, though, is the inherent concept of self-care. Self-care is not selfish. Self-care is integral to having a healthy, flourishing faith in Christ.

Sabbath was made by God for humanity (Mark 2:27). The Sabbath was the first act of participation by humankind with God. In the creation account of Genesis, God created humankind on day 6. Therefore, the next full day cycle is Sabbath, the seventh day and the day of rest. What an important concept to grasp- before we can produce, work, hustle, or even form meaning, we much first rest. We see this in our natural world and human experience- a newborn baby rests a tremendous amount in those fresh days of life, in preparation for growth and maturity.

Sabbath is a spiritual rhythm that makes space for us to rest. But rest is not the opposite of work; rest is work of a different order. Rest was always meant to be held as a sacred space where we feast, celebrate and enjoy the fruits of our labor. ⁣
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Rest cannot mean just the ceasing of work- the extracurricular activities, the social events, the trawling online, the Netflix binge, the pedicures or massages. That’s more accurately named leisure. But rest… rest is a re-orienting of our humanness.

We need time carved out for remembering the good, rejoicing in the truth, savoring and slowing down. ⁣Sabbath creates time for delight. We surrender the to-do list and pursue what sets our souls on fire.
What is your truth?
Where do you find goodness?
Where do you see beauty?
For me it looks like a nice meal with relaxing instrumental music, lit candles and reading a book aloud with my family. In warmer months, it’s a walk by the ocean. We don’t always have to set aside huge amounts of time for rest, but we should get into the habit of setting time aside for the pursuit of truth, goodness and beauty.
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Rest pushes us to remember we’re relationship-oriented, not accomplishment oriented. We are human beings, not human doings. It stops the hustle of wanting moremoremore and instead focuses on the now. Rest gives perspective. It reminds us Who orders our days and sustains our life. Sabbath naturally creates a rhythm of gratitude; as we make time to focus on the present, the gifts come into view more clearly. ⁣
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Lastly, rest is not always easy or gentle. Setting aside time for meaningful pause really enables us to learn and grow. Making space for rest requires diligence, attention and hard work. It’s a choice to set aside the to-do lists and deadlines, to slow the hustle and spend time really soaking in the truth: we earn no love from God; instead, we rest in his love. ⁣

“The number one enemy of Christian spiritual formation today is exhaustion,” writes Jim Smith. Maybe we should be less afraid of a spiritual enemy, and be more aware of the pace of our lifestyles. We often are our own worst enemy.

Blog Spirituality

Lenten Reflections: Confession

The mystery of Lent lies in grief. We make time to see the truth of our lives- the chaos, the misplaced energies, the losses we glazed over. It’s easy to get lost in the darkness of Lent, to feel overwhelmed by all the things we’ve ignored or brushed under the rug. During the Lenten season, time is built in to practice confession.

Confession is one of the most misunderstood disciplines of the Christian life. The Greek word for confession is homologeo, which means “to speak the same.” In other words, to confess means I concede that something is factual or true.

Confession is NOT a promise never to commit sin again. It is also not a way to receive forgiveness- the finished work of the cross produced forgiveness! Confession is never dependent on me, but it’s always dependent on Christ.

Psalm 32:5-7

⁵Then I acknowledged my sin to you
    and did not cover up my iniquity.
I said, “I will confess
    my transgressions to the Lord.”
And you forgave
    the guilt of my sin.

⁶Therefore let all the faithful pray to you
    while you may be found;
surely the rising of the mighty waters
    will not reach them.
⁷You are my hiding place;
    you will protect me from trouble
    and surround me with songs of deliverance.

Confession helps us be rid of guilt. It’s the practice of repentance. To repent just means to turn around. When we turn around we see the truth, that Jesus doesn’t leave us even when our life’s a mess. Jesus is our hiding place when we are in trouble. And all along, He was singing over us. Confession is the art of celebration, the art of opening our eyes and ears to see the Presence of God with us, and the heart of God singing to us.

Confess- by Jessica Briggs

I just need to turn
And see your face of Love
As I doubt
When I am fed up
When I am harsh
As the anger fills me up.

I just need to turn
And see your face of Love
As i make verdicts
When I sort them
When I am hate-filled
As the hurts blind me.

I just need to turn
And see your face of Love
As I’m free
When I don’t deserve it
When I am unworthy
As the grace washes over me.

I just need to turn
And see your face of Love
As I’m made new
When I hear your songs
When I see you’re near
As the guilt leaves me.

Blog Spirituality

Lent 2020

Many people in the Christian tradition follow the practice of Lent. Traditionally, lent involved giving up of something, so many modern versions usually involve fasting from social media, instead of food.

But what if we decided not to avoid or give up things this season, but rather to open our eyes to the Presence of God in our everyday, ordinary lives- online and off?

I put together a resource to help do that- a simple photo a day challenge on Instagram, along with a daily complimentary scripture. I’d love to see you join me in this! I can’t wait to see the ways your eyes see Jesus this Lenten season.

Follow me on Instagram: @eyestoseeblog and post your own pictures for the daily themes, using hashtags #lentphotos2020, #lentthruthelens2020 and tagging me! I’d love to feature you in my daily stories <3

Blog Spirituality

To the Backrow Believers

To Those in the Back Row on Sunday:

The moms with wiggly, noisy toddlers who blush red when people turn around to eyeball you.

The elderly with feeble knees and fragile backs who couldn’t quite walk all the way up to the front seats as once able.

The homeless persons finding warmth, refuge and a few moments of safety.

The former pastors and church leaders who haven’t walked through the doors of a church these past couple years after the great hurt this Bride brought.

The couples who’s marriage is crumbling but came thinking this would be a place to find help or hope or both.

The teenagers texting and giggling, with fresh cuts across their forearms hidden under their trendy clothes, wondering if they belong anywhere.

The questioning and riddled with doubt who come in after the music service and leave before dismissal, avoiding judgmental glances or probing questions.

The family who’s father is happy clappy and friendly, but drinks himself asleep each night.

I see you.

And if I could, I’d sit right next to you and tell you this:
You are so loved.
You are so wanted.

You don’t need to come here to get right. Jesus did that for you.

You don’t need to come here to make amends for those things you did. Jesus made amends for you already.

You don’t need to find a dress in the back of your closet and go to church with your best face on like your grandmother once did to earn the title of “good.” Jesus made you in his image and calls you good, anyway. Take the costume off and be real.

You don’t need to sit here anymore and wonder if you’ll ever be good enough, if you’ll ever feel better, if you’ll ever not be ruled by shame.

I’ll sit right next to you and tell you the guy in the pulpit doesn’t have a magic wand or a remedy or a formula to fix you or heal you. And if Jesus were here in person, he’d be sitting with us, too.

Jesus wouldn’t get up front and brag on his skills, ability, spiritual growth or title. Jesus wouldn’t tell you that your failures make you unworthy. Jesus wouldn’t open the scroll and use the words on the page to cast judgment and demand conviction and repentance.

No… Jesus would get off the stage. He’d walk down the aisle that separates. He would sit down with you and He would listen. He would not be ashamed to sit with you. He would love you without conditions or money put in the offering plate.

It’s time we do this, too, church. The people in the back rows and out beyond our walls don’t need more offerings or nicer carpets. They need connection. They need someone to see them- to look them in the eye and feel their sorrow and weep with them. No more side glances of judgment. No more “good mornings” with a half-hearted smile. Get up and sit with them. Because the nice song at the end of service that makes us feel good isn’t cutting it for those in the back row. They walked out of service before the happy notes could numb their soul. Because these are the souls looking for real love, real hope- and many cannot seem to find this in your space on Sundays.

Blog Spirituality

No One Way

America has more brands of Christianity than jeans. You can find a space to practice your faith whether you like liturgy or line upon line, contemporary or traditional worship music, liberal or literal biblical interpretation, and everything in between.

I’ve had a unique exposure to many of the camps of Christianity. I spent the early years of my life in fundamentalism at a small, independent Baptist church. While I have moved past many of the rules and regulations of those days, I knew the people who influenced my faith truly loved Jesus. They did the best they had with the faith they knew, even if my childhood experience was cloaked in wrong purity messaging and cheesy flannel board stories complete with Bible songs with hand motions. Yet, that same small community showed up, week after week in the pews and sparsely populated Sunday schools. They showed up year after year each summer to host VBS, whether there were 100 children or 20. They brought casseroles and hosted coffee and desserts when our community felt the sting of loss or the shock of tragedy. I learned in those little walls set among farm fields what commitment looked like.

But then life changed.

I spent my early adult years in evangelical and charismatic faith spaces. I lifted my hands in worship. I knelt on my knees and wept and confessed my sin at the altar. I prayed to speak in tongues. I’ve been prophesied over, received words of knowledge, and seen God do miracles through every day moments of life. Like that one time, when friends handed us a Christmas card. When we opened it hours later, we were dumbfounded to find exactly enough money nestled in that card to cover our mortgage. Literally no one knew Art and I were broke and both unemployed- but those little moments bolstered my faith in Christ. I learned from a decade in that community to keep the faith, to believe in a God who is bigger than we can fathom and to never be afraid to take Him out of the box.

But then, life changed again, and it was a painful adjustment in my life.

While everything crumbled around me, I just couldn’t find a place of worship that felt right. You see, God led me to the desert and even though I came kicking, screaming and hurting, I graciously found springs of living water. Those life-giving waters were women who through their humanity, shared pieces of their shattered hearts so freely. Those warrior women were healing and balm to my heart. They encouraged me to continue the race and keep the faith. They were my Christ. They were my church and their testimonies and struggles restored in me strength to forgive, desire to grow, and bravery to throw off entanglements. I began to walk on the waters slowly, trusting God even in my uncertainty. Each little step, women encouraged me profoundly, cheering me on and giving me the joy. My church encouraged me to lead, and even honored my words and leadership with mutual affection. Some of those women took the torch from my hand and continued the race when life again brought change. They walked me to the edge of the desert and into a wide open space through weekly rhythms of singing together, praying together, wondering and doubting together, confessing, praising and rejoicing together. I realized after two and a half years in my desert, that God led me there because He was there. His presence was with me in the gentle faces and hugs, just as tangibly as He was present with Jesus in the desert. God showed me his loving kindness. He restored in me the joy of my salvation. He reminded me that I had value even though my identity and everything had changed. He gave me companionship with those women, never leaving me alone. I learned what God alone looked like, tearing down the idols I had been so comfortable with, like traditional church and ministry and busyness and distraction.

And life changed, but this time for the good.

I find myself currently in more open, affirming faith circles. Practice of stillness, time in awe of nature and quietness are vital to my journey with God. I enjoy using ancient paths and prayers to connect with God. I find liturgy and tradition to be like a familiar old friend, walking alongside me to provide great comfort to my soul. I have found God in unexpected places, even deep within myself after suppressing my inward thoughts and being. In this season, I am learning to truly believe God is good, and His goodness can be seen everywhere and in everyone, if we only have the eyes to see.

The fact is, there’s a common denominator in my story, and likely in yours, too. There isn’t one way to walk out faith. The accounts in scripture aren’t meant to be a dictating rule book; they are meant to show that each person is free to live and encounter God uniquely. Each story isn’t replicated. How boring would that be if everyone got swallowed by a great fish? Or if everyone got met at a well? The diversity we find in the pages of scripture and time show us that each expression of faith, each human heart, cannot be ranked as “better” or “best.” They are simply pilgrimages, all unique as they pass through mountain tops and valleys. Our lungs and souls experience the climates and elevations differently, and that’s okay.

I’ve learned, and will continue to learn, that the Divine is so tremendous that the Trinity will never fit in our little theology boxes, denominations or understandings. They show up in a variety of places, spaces, voices, people and practices. We must stop railing against each other, arguing about our opinions and stances, our way of scriptural interpretations or our ways of worship. We have to stop saying who’s in and who’s out. We cannot tolerate casting people away from our fellowship and faith groups because they are more conservative or liberal than we are. If the church will survive, then it’s up to each of us to lay down the weapons- yes, even the Bible verses- and to wave a white flag of peace. It’s time to yell ”truce” and see we are not enemies, but brothers and sisters. We’re on the same side. It’s the side of humanness. It’s the side of good.

We are each free to live, move and have our being. It’s time we cheer each other on in that, even if our mountains and racecourses are markedly different. We must change from I focused faith groups to WE focused. After all, it’s what the church is called to do- to deny self and take up the cross of Christ. Follow the Leader, who is gentle and humble in heart. He gives grace upon grace, and even cooks dinner for those who blatantly oppose and deny Him, giving the benefit of the doubt and countless second-chances. Go and do likewise.

Blog Military Life Spirituality

You Can Make Yourself

I recently read a line in a book that I can’t get out of my head. In the book, Present Over Perfect by Shauna Niequist she says, “one never changes until the pain level gets high enough”

This is an impactful thought for our military community. Just last week news broke about another one like us- an Army wife, Tristen Watson– who reached her pain level. Her heart-breaking story ended in tragedy, as she chose to end her and her unborn child’s life by suiciding, after also murdering her toddler.

Do you know why thousands of us feel this loss in our bones? Because we know what burdens she was carrying. There’s many invisible weights military spouses carry on their back. That may sound strange, since we grow up and stop believing in invisible things. But I feel these things acutely; many of you wear them, too.

My weight is loneliness.
My weight is doubt.
My weight is hopelessness.
My weight is fear.
My weight is sadness.
My weight is feeling overwhelmed, incapable, soul-weary, empty, tired…
The list goes on.

We are juggling big things- independent parenting, less than ideal circumstances, moving and uprooting, experiencing constant grief cycles from losing friends and communities, being far from family, unrest in our marriages and managing the emotional health of our spouses after their war experiences.

This all equates to one simple word: trauma. Our lifestyle is nothing short of traumatic. If we look at the reality of our past, the circumstances of our present and the unknowns of the future in this lifestyle, it is far too easy to become hopeless. Add in many of us, who have pasts full of trauma, whether it be sexual, emotional, physical or a life-altering event, and it’s the recipe for a perfect storm.

Trauma rears it’s head in ugly ways. It’s the voice that always shames. It’s the accusations– I’ll never be better, healed, whole, happy. It’s the driving force behind feeling constantly on edge, waiting for the shoe to drop. Trauma rewires our brains to think unreasonably, obsessively and to make our bed in a place riddled with constant depression and anxiety.

The solution for handling trauma is multifaceted. We know resiliency plays a role, although there’s much nuance with how we gain resiliency. We know this for a fact: resiliency is not entirely built in. We have to let go of stigmas that are imprisoning real souls. It’s not enough to pull yourself up by the bootstraps. You can’t just be “Army strong.” We don’t need to suck it up, buttercup. We don’t need another “well you knew what you were getting yourself into.” We need to start having real conversations about the reality of mental wellness in our armed forces and spouses.

The most believable mantra in our culture is that “people never change.” We believe that we can never change, either, so we stay in cycles and battles and addictions and pain until we feel like the only way to end it is to stop breathing.

I’m here to tell you today that you can change. You can change your mind. You can adjust the sails for the course of wind. You can follow your heart. You can change the inner dialogue that always leaves you feeling defeated. You can fall apart, and reassemble yourself into a more beautiful mosaic. So as you might be falling apart, broken into pieces, handling burdens too heavy to carry, and at the very end of your rope, it’s not the end of your story.

This needs to be a battle cry from within the heart of our armed services. No matter how dark and daunting, we need the affirmation and permission from one another to change. To remake and recreate our reality, until we feel peace. We need the support and acknowledgement, the resources and the hearts willing to help us move toward change, both inward and outward.

We all have high pain levels, which is already the impetus for change. So, brave one, do it- spread your wings and make your life yours. Uncle Sam may control some things in your life, but he doesn’t own you. You are free to be who you are meant to be. And I am here to cheer you on as you discover, heal, put down burdens and make yourself. No one else can do it for you, and that’s the beauty in it all. You can be authentically you- and that’s who the world needs you to be, too.

RESOURCES:

For free, personal Counseling: Military One Source 1-800-342-9647
If you’re having thoughts of ending your life, call the National Suicide Hotline- 1-800-273-8255

Blog Spirituality

Beauty School

The tradition of faith I grew up in was full of rules- how to dress appropriately, how to treat people in authority, and the longest liturgy of what not to do. No dancing, no alcohol, no this or that. So, I learned the rules and it made me into a near perfect performer. I could act my way into rightness in most scenarios, mostly because I learned the morals of my community. I was a good, Christian girl and I really liked that label.

As I matured into young adulthood, I went through the normal stages of rebellion- nights full of dancing and drinking and playing cards. But by my early twenties I was back on the straight and narrow, operating by those rules that I learned made me right.

Yet the more I followed this rule-making God, the less alive I felt inside. It felt like being paranoid all the time. Did I forget to pray for all the sins I did today? I carried around a god that fit into my spreadsheets and checklists. It heaped guilt on me over and over again when I didn’t read my Bible for 15 minutes a day, or I didn’t write a check tithing exactly ten percent, or I grumbled about someone instead of devoting myself to praying for them.

I handed these rules out to others, too. It was like a pamphlet- come be like me! Just follow these steps and you can find your way to being a good Christian, too.

After a period of feeling discouraged, I began exploring the idea that the Divine isn’t a rule-follower. God is wholly unpredictable. Just when you thought he was going to punish Israel in the Old Testament stories, God would show compassion. Just when you thought, “Surely, Jesus wouldn’t condone sleeping around,” He spoke life-giving, loving words to prostitutes. Just when you thought the Ruler of the Universe would climb off the cross and chastise the onlookers, Jesus died in quiet humility. And even upon His resurrection, He didn’t appear to every government power and authority to be like “look at me now!” Instead, he connected with his beloved friends.

Of course I knew the facts already- Jesus is a relationship, not a religion. I knew he came to fulfill the Law, but how do you be a good Christian without the rule book or the 10 Commandments?

A glimpse of glory tells me that God himself, in all his fullness, exists as Creator. Creativity never comes with a manual. Artists know this to be true- you don’t create within a set of rules; instead you’re always pushing the boundaries to make more beauty. You try and try and remake and rebuild and reimagine things in ways to make beauty shine forth.

I’ve sat in enough Bible studies the past two decades listening to people debate law vs. grace. I’ve heard a litany of reasons why Christ-followers must have moral compasses, to be a good example to the world. But maybe we should give up those pursuits- the bone-exhausting trying and the nitpicking way of judging others and ourselves. Maybe we just need to get messy and create. Throw the rulebooks away and make beauty. Splatter paint colors of love on walls and floors and our clothes and see what emerges.

Beauty attracts wonder more than a book of rules ever will. Beauty makes us see and connect with awe to a loving Creator. Never in my life have I been more enamored by artistry. The skillful violinist dancing across strings that reverberate within my heart. The strokes of painters who have left us masterpieces to gaze upon. The words that flow like honey through poetry into my soul. The smell of a fresh cut orange as you squeeze it into a dish you’re about to savor. The outdoor world with it’s creatures and waters and plant life that we pass by, often without noticing.

There’s beauty everywhere rejoicing, pointing us to Creator if we would only get our heads out of the rule book. We don’t need to fill our buckets full of knowledge to dump on others, showing them how to perform. Piaget once said “Everytime we teach {someone} something, we keep them from inventing it themselves.”

If we want to see a revival, a people passionate about Christ, living out His love and grace, we must stop rule-making. The buzz word in our community is discipleship, but the way we go about discipling is laden with rules. We can’t make mini-disciples who follow the rules exactly how we do. Being right or being wrong is not what the gospel is about. We believe more in tearing down and arguing than we do in the Gospel. We spend our time teaching disciples apologetics, how to have an answer (read:argument) in all seasons. If defending our faith is all we have, then we’ve abandoned the work and worship of Jesus. We have missed the forest for the trees.

Jesus didn’t die to make us his defenders. He died to give us freedom and peace and joy- true beauty. We must follow Jesus’ lead in disciple-making. First, Jesus taught through parable and story, without giving clear cut guidelines, always giving the hearer freedom to make and create and invent. Secondly, Jesus never micromanaged his disciples. He breathed Spirit fire upon them and released them. That fire awakened them to beauty, as we can also awaken to beauty. Awakened, we see the undeniable Truth staring back at us. It’s in the eyes and heart of another human being where beauty exists. We are all worthy of love- a love that’s messy, creative and wonderful. That beauty and love is the only force capable of changing hearts, and thus, the world. May you have eyes to see…