Go?

Some days I really hate being friends with spiritual directors. I mean, I appreciate the deeper conversations about life and relationships and God. But then there are the times when these spiritual director friends ask those good questions. You know, the questions that stop you in your tracks. The questions you don't quite have an answer to. The questions that you suspect point to murky parts of your heart.

The questions that may very well make you drop an f-bomb.

Perhaps you've already guessed that I have had one such conversation recently. I was sharing my disappointment with a situation in life. This situation is painful on its own, but it also echoes heavily from a similar instance in my past. My friend listened and empathized. Then she asked the question:

What is it in you, that is drawn to these situations?  What is your part in this?

Crap. I knew she was right on with her question. I couldn't answer it on the spot, but judging by the way my body immediately tensed up, I knew there was something to that question. Something I sort of didn't want to know. Yet, a tiny sliver of my heart was ready to go there.

So, I returned to the question the next day, just me, God and my gnawing anxiety. It slowly became clear that at the root of this question was my fear. I am drawn to these situations, because I think it will make life easier, less risky. I fear that I won't be enough. So, I bolster myself with others I see as stronger, more capable and more charismatic. I hope that I will ride on their coat tails of success.  In the process, I find myself hidden and unseen.

This place has provided a false sense of safety, but it has also left me disappointed. There's a voice in my heart crying for more. I fear what must be risked to lean into the more I see within me. I keep waiting for someone to come along and unleash it. As I write this, I realize that perhaps it is not for me to wait for a person to recognize what is within me. Hasn't God already seen and known (and created) me? I think I've been waiting for a situation that will provide this neat, succinct platform to the places I believe God is calling me to. However, I don't know if that's how God would have me get there. Maybe now is the time to risk (I mean, that has been a theme for me since summer). Is this the day to step out, trembling with fear, into new terrain?

I'm reminded of a worship song I often used to listen to "If You Say Go."  It’s a simple song, but speaks to the place of obedience, saying yes when God says “go” and saying yes when God says “wait.”  The beautiful turn in the song is the reassurance of God's part:

If You call us to the fire
You will not withdraw Your hand
We'll gaze into the flames and look for you

I think God may be saying "Go."

Lord have mercy.

Comedic Creativity

Do you ever have a moment when you realize something about yourself?  I’ve been having those moments a lot this summer.  Mostly recently I have come to the realization that I really enjoy comedians.  Specifically, I enjoy hearing about their process of creativity and have been reading various books by comedians.  Miranda Hart.  David Sedaris (not labeled a comedian, but definitely teeters on the line in my mind).  Mindy Kaling.  Steve Martin.  This was not intentional, but just sort of happened.  And this week I noticed the trend.

I’ve been on vacation this week and on Friday I made it out to the library.  I picked up Steve Martin’s book “Born Standing Up,” First, Martin is a spectacular writer.  He is not cliché with his words, yet is able to beautifully describe a moment in a way that captures you.  I knew he was writing, but didn’t know how gifted he was with the pen/typewriter/keyboard (you get what I’m saying).  He only covers the first part of his career, that of a stand-up comedian… 

“In a sense, this book is not an autobiography but a biography, because I am writing about someone I used to know…I ignored my stand-up career for twenty-five years, but now, having finished this memoir, I view this time with surprising warmth.  One can have, it turns out, an affection for the war years.” 

As I became increasingly engrossed in the book, which I read in one day (the gift of being on vacation), I found myself fascinated by the development of his act.  Later, as I drove home, I wondered what it would look like for to be a comedian, or a comedic writer.  In reading Martin’s book, I realized that being a comedian doesn’t just mean being funny.  It takes an exploration of what makes people laugh, connecting with the audience, and understanding how to play with their expectations.  I began to dream of experimenting with comedy.  If I enjoy this so much, why has it never felt like an option (I think I know the answer to that question)? 

Last night I performed at an open mic night as part of my friend’s 30^th birthday party.  It has been a long time since I have performed anything and the prospect felt enlivening.  I had planned to sing a song about “Pride and Prejudice,” but decided to add some comedy before singing (nothing like Jane Austen themed comedy to get a crowd rolling).  I really enjoyed crafting what I was going to say.  Creating points to cover, while allowing for there to be flexibility in what I said exactly.  I practiced in my car, in the shower, and as I got ready.  I really enjoyed myself last night.  It was messy and not everything I said elicited a laugh, but it was fun to experiment and try something new. 

I’ve been wondering what it looks like for me to welcome in more of my creative self into daily life.  I don’t have a lot of answers at this point, but I do feel freed to experiment.  Perhaps it’s time to find avenues to sing more?  Maybe I’ll take an improv class?  Sometimes I just wait for things to happen, but today I feel oddly empowered to step out and try something new.  And I think this all started last spring when I began to blog more regularly. 

So, here’s to continuing to unleash creative me even more!  What within you might you need to unleash upon the world?     

Risk in Writing

Lately, I’ve felt as though my writing ideas have begun to dry up.  Not only do I feel as though I’m scrambling for topics, I also have experienced a diminished desire to even write.  It has been good for me to continue on in the midst of waning interest, to learn the discipline of writing, even when I just want to veg out and watch another episode of 30 Rock (I’m re-watching the show). 

However, I discovered this morning that actually I did know what I wanted to write about.  In fact, there were two subjects that have been on my mind.  Fear has kept me from delving into these topics.  In my mind, these two topics are “controversial” and I am afraid of the response I will receive.  I fear the conclusions others will make about me.  As I was sitting here, amazed at the fear I suddenly found bubbling out of my heart, I knew what I had to do. 

This week I’m going to lean into the fears, and write these two pieces.  It will involve time, to really do justice to these topics.  It will involve risk, to share another layer of who I am.  It will involve trust, that somehow the Lord is leading me in this endeavor. 

Strangely enough, these next two posts may not be controversial for you who read this blog.  I suspect that this fear is mostly internal, meaning that I’m dealing with my own terror over how I am received, over who I am.

So, here goes…  

Every Pot has its Lid

I have the joy of living with two single women.  Some of my favorite moments with them are when we commiserate about singleness and the woes of dating.  The other night one of my roomies shared a profile she’d come across on a dating site.  As she read this man’s profile it quickly became clear that his life revolved around turtles.  Yes, you heard/read me correctly.  Turtles.  He talked about them in his introduction.  He had pictures of them.  He even listed them as one of the six things he couldn’t live without.  Wow, what do you even say to that?

We had a good laugh.  My roommate mentioned a statement she’d read recently that “every pot has its lid.”  That got me thinking, who would be a good fit for our turtley friend?  I pulled out my chalk board and started writing down some unusual hobbies.  Then, my roommates and I entered into some deep hypothesizing and began to match up our fictional people based on their interests. 

How about a Civil War reenacter with a Renaissance Faire groupie? 

Or perhaps an anime lover with a fantasy writer? 

Maybe a Goth paired up with a Steam Punker?

These explorations are a bit of a hobby of mine.  Perhaps even an unusual one.  I find that the world of dating is a strange one.  The rules in normal life do not apply and I often feel woefully behind on how this all works.  Do I text after a date?  How do I act interested, but not too interested?  Does he really mean he’ll call back if he says he will?  In these moments, creating charts and graphs, or even just talking about how strange dating is, feels somewhat grounding.  For years I was scared to ask these questions.  Now, I’m starting to dip my toe in the stream.  I find that the more I ask these questions, whether with my friends, or here on the blog, the more I find that no one knows what they’re doing.  And that is comforting to me. 

Still.  Some days I get frustrated.  I feel hopeless about finding my lid...Or is it my pot?  The older I get, the more secure I feel in who I am and in my character, and this reality seems to complicate dating even more.  I mean, when I was in my early twenties, I was still figuring out myself.  I was a lot less picky than I am today.  I think it will take a miracle of God for me to get married (although, I think anyone getting together is some sort of miraculous act). 

I was at dinner with a friend last night and we were talking about how much easier it would be if God would just let us know if we’re going to be single for life or if we’re getting married.  Frustratingly, he hasn’t answered that question for either of us.  And part of me gets it.  There is something good about this process of growth that comes through unknowing.  I have to trust in God.  Not that he will undoubtedly provide a husband, but rather that whether it be a single or married life, it is good and offered in loving care to me. 

As I wait, I’m grateful for moments when I can laugh with friends over the oddness that is a dating life.  

Resignation or Risk?

Last Thursday I had my monthly meeting with my spiritual director.  I shared with her about the surprising experience of my birthday and how refreshing it was in light of this challenging year.  As we continued to explore this past year the word that came to mind for me was “resignation.”  So much of this year has felt like I’ve given up.  There are many reasons for this.  Changes, changes, and more changes.  I’ve moved work, home, and church.  All significant shifts of life.  What I’ve noticed is that so often when I’ve been hit with disappointment, instead of expressing my emotions to God, I’ve just accepted it and moved on.  Except inside, I am not at peace with the disappointment.  My acceptance has been a resignation, not a trust in God.  It is despair.  Not hope that he is working and weaving in the disappointment.  Doubting that he sees or even cares. 

At one point, my spiritual director asked me whether I would approach God differently today than I did this year.  As I sat with that question, I saw the ways I would approach him differently, but also saw shifts and decisions I made throughout the year that I wouldn’t change.  I want to approach him differently by leaning into honesty.  Even though I know about desolation and suffering, it does not mean that I am at the place yet where I always truly mean “your will be done.”  Yet, there were times when my feelings wouldn’t be contained and they exploded in prayer to him. 

That same night I started meeting with some women to go through a book on prayer.  It was one of those nights when the conversation eerily echoes all the things you’ve been wrestling through during the day.  I was hit with the reality that I have not been asking boldly from God lately.  I have not entered into the dangerous place of stating what I want. 

At one point in the evening I mentioned how we have these two pray-ers in us.  The nice, cleaned up Christian pray-er.  In my mind she wears pearls and vacuums wearing heels.  Her prayers are safe, concrete, and pristine.  I called this pray-er neutered.  (To be completely honest, I said that this pray-er’s junk had been cut off).  I then went on to say that we also have a true pray-er within us.  Her prayers are risky, all over the place, and messy.  I want to unleash that pray-er.  She is crying out the true prayers of my heart.  However, when I let that pray-er do her thing, I enter into the scary world of risk.  And it completely flies in the face of resignation. 

Risk terrifies me. 

Because when I risk, there is no guarantee.  I might be disappointed.  I might fall.  I might end up just where I started.  Risking feels like living life outside of my control.  Yet, I truly do not control my life.  Ultimately. 

To play devil’s advocate (to myself), risk also could mean a life different than I imagined.  I might be surprised.  I might soar.  I might end up on the other side of the world.  Risking opens me up to life beyond my control, into the hands of God, who’s vision and imagination is infinitely more expansive than mine will ever be.

As I sit with the possibility of this upcoming year I am hit with the decision of resignation or risk.  As I drove home last night, I chose risk.  I don’t know all that will hold for me.  I fear risk, but resignation doesn’t work.  I am over resigning. 

……….

How are you stepping into risk today with God?