Blessed Bewilderment

Have you ever been at a point in your life where you are thrust into the unknown, uncertain where to turn, what to do next?

Where you are suddenly walking down a hallway, knocking on doors, seeing what opens…but the hallway is dark and you cannot even see in front of you. Do you go to the right, to the left, to a door creaking behind you, to one in front of you that swings open?

I am there today.

A young professional suddenly in the throes of the unknown again. With the unexpected layoffs at a job and community I have been at for 7 years. A city I have become familiar with, a community I hold dear.

What does my future hold? What sort of work am I supposed to pursue? What are my biggest priorities? Where is my life headed in the next year? Next ten years?

I have been thrust into a maelstrom of uncertainty. Those waves and that storm and that boat? I’m in that boat with Peter. The storm will threaten to overtake me, if I let it.

Where is this boat headed, and who can calm this stormy heart?

And I hear a Voice saying to me, “Don’t waste this”

Don’t waste this sacred time, this blessed bewilderment where the only certainty I have is that Divine arms are holding me.

Don’t waste this opportunity to watch the Lord walk on the waters and part the seas. Because this storm is a sacrament where the Savior is seen with piercing clarity.

Every storm in our life gives us the opportunity to see Him in an unrepeatable way. And crisis intensifies the storm. Every storm reminds us how desperately we are in need of a divine Rescuer.

Tell us where to go, Lord.

Soon enough the storm will settle. Our hearts will settle. I will settle. I will settle into a new life, new routine, new normal. Soon enough, I will be comfortable again.

But for now I am unsettled. I am bewildered, and I am blessed. 

The Measure of Mercy

I don't know about you, but I have a difficult time comparing myself with others. It could be as vain as comparing my looks or my talents with others - or it could be a little deeper, like comparing myself with the amount of volunteer work or generosity of others. 

I think this comparison game plagues many of us, and social media has only plagued us with more blatant temptations for this. 

I often think to myself "I wish I had more energy so I could do X for more people." "I wish I had more money so I could give X to this person" "I wish I had more time so I could volunteer with Y." 

This morning I had a bit of an epiphany. It was like the Lord said "You have been given everything you need to show mercy in the way I desire.”

For some of us - that might mean a lot of activities - reaching many people, volunteering at a youth group, going on a mission trip. For others it might simply mean loving your husband and children by devoting your time, energy and love to them. Didn't have a chance to get your second cousin a birthday gift? Didn't get a chance to invite your pastor over for dinner? It's OK. 

For me I get caught up sometimes in discouragement from an inability to "do" things that I think (very likely) were not something I was needing to do in the first place. Surely - there are SO many ways we can get involved, we can bless people, we can give of ourselves. But don't measure your mercy in the ability to fulfill all of these things. Measure your Mercy in your faithfulness to love the people that God has put right in front of you. That doesn't have to be grandiose either. It could simply mean a smile, a listening ear, a hug. 

It is even MORE simple. Perhaps one of the deepest and fundamental calls is the call to show mercy to ourselves. Sometimes showing ourselves mercy is the HARDEST person to show mercy to. A wise priest at a retreat once said "We have to beg Christ for the Mercy to love ourselves." That has really stuck with me over the past decade. We need the mercy to love ourselves as Christ loves us - we are the Father's beloved creation.

We will find the ways He wants us to show mercy not by looking at what those around us are doing - not even by looking at the unrealistic standards or protocols we have devised for ourselves. We will only find these invitations by looking deeply into our Savior's merciful eyes. It is there He will reveal to us the mercy that we need to experience and the mercy that we need to share. 

"Let Jesus look at you. Place yourselves within the gaze of Jesus and welcome this gaze that looks at you peacefully and calmly, that loves you and sees your deepest identity. Jesus, who looks at us with hope and who, in looking at us, loves us, heals us, ad purifies us....Let us take these moments to look at Jesus with faith and most of all, to welcome his gaze and allow ourselves to be healed by it, to be healed of all of our discouragements, all the ways in which we feel guilty, our worries, maybe our shame. This gaze of Jesus can heal everything in us; it can purify and renew everything in our hearts." Fr. Jacques Philippe, Real Mercy.

Amen

To shoulder the beams

I've been thinking a lot about the cross this Lent. Especially about how our own personal crosses are tied up into the mystery of the cross of Christ and how they are given to us, specifically and personally, to bring about our purification and sanctification. No one escapes the weight of a cross. Everyone, whether they appear to or not, is plagued with a cross, and sometimes many crosses. For some people, these crosses are crushingly heavy. Some, are not so much heavy, as lighter crosses that pinch us with splinters of annoyances every. single. day. 

Just when I thought I was rid of this cross!

It struck me today, how much of my attention I focus on alleviating myself of the weight or splinters of my crosses. I think about how great it will be to finally be healed of a health issue. I think of how I am going to improve my personal shortcomings that cause me frustration and discouragement. I think about not having to deal with difficult people. 

I think about being rid of pain. Being rid of hassle. Just getting to that one place around the bend when my cares could be cast aside in a more carefree life. 

I imagine a life when I have it all together. Seamless. Easy. 

Then of course, when the relief doesn't come; when the beams still weigh me down, when the splinters still prick and poke me, I think - wow. I must being doing something wrong. 

Still here. On my back. What?

Dear God. 

Suddenly it dawns on me. If I only spent as much energy striving to carry my crosses well; with a resigned and accepting heart as I do striving to alleviate them of dreaming of their resolution.

But the reality is, many crosses in our lives will be a persistent reality for the rest of our breaths. 

But it doesn't mean we are failing. It doesn't mean God is failing.

It means that we are still walking a long the road to Calvary; the road that leads to sanctification and eternal healing. 

We have another day to unite of sufferings to the Cross of Christ. To make His crucified Love present in the world, in the way that only we can do. 

We are all Simon. Taking that beam upon our shoulder. Making up for what is lacking. 

Still?

As long as we have breath.

We are afflicted. We are privileged. To shoulder the beams He bears.  

 

Lent...it has begun

Well, Lent has started, and I feel as though this year, I am really going into the desert.

Before Lent began, I had this sense that God was saying,

"If He empties you, it is only so He can fill you more abundantly."

And so it began.

Have you ever felt like God was doing an excavation in your heart? That's what I feel like is happening to me this Lent. It's intense.

And you know what I want to say to God?

"Stop! Don't go there! We do not need to dig up that artifact! It was just fine in here until You came in. That dusty old thing that was crowding a corner in my heart? Just leave it there. I know, it's making me sneeze. That other rusty thing in front of me? Don't touch it. Just let it be. I know...I can't walk over it without tripping. But it's too heavy to move. And I'm used to seeing it sit there. Too much discombobulution, Lord. Stop digging. It hurts. Stop clearing. I don't want to be disturbed. JUST LEAVE IT."

But God loves me too much to just leave it. He is making space. He is tearing me down.

If He tears down, it is only to build me back up.

And no one pours new wine into old wineskins...

Waiting with Our Lady

Today I was meditating on the Visitation, when Our Lady visited her cousin Elizabeth. I was thinking about how many times I have had that friend who has come to me in my time of need. Come to me in person, come to me in a phone conversation, or come to me in an e-mail or letter. A friend who says exactly the right words at the right time. Who listens to my sorrows, comforts me in my anxiety, rejoices with me in my joy, offers me words of wisdom in my time of perplexity. Their visit is a relief, comfort, Godsend, blessing.

As I was thinking about The Visitation, I was thinking about how, beautiful this event is. It expresses the friendship and love between Our Lady and St. Elizabeth as they share the unfolding of God's plan - Mary, with Child, the Son of God;  Elizabeth, with Child, St. John the Baptist.

Mary doesn't just visit Elizabeth, though. The expectant Mary will come visit US, if we just ask her to. This Advent, she will come to us, with the same joy of the expectancy with which she went to visit her cousin. She will come to us, the with the same fulfilled Promise with which she came to share with Elizabeth. If we ask her to come be with us, to stay with us, that same power of the Christ child will stir our hearts, just like it stirred the heart of St. John the Baptist - even in his mother's womb.

Mary is the best friend that could come to visit us. She too will listen to us, comfort us, rejoice with us, inspire us. And most of all, during this Advent season, Mary will teach us, in a perfect way, how to wait for the Savior - in joyful hope.

The Advent Season of...Me?

Advent is this Sunday, and I've been thinking a lot about what I want to do to make it a prayerful, meaningful 25 days. Something came to me tonight, that was rather unexpected. What if, this Advent, I focus on self-care, rather than self-denial? Sacrifices and penances absolutely have their place. But perhaps the Lord is asking me, for 25 days, to be especially good to myself. To be mindful of  my need to unwind, to rejuvenate, to be refreshed? To honor that need, to honor myself, a daughter of the King, created in the image and likeness of Christ. To intentionally try to temper the temptation to do, do, do, with the permission to be.

As it is, December is a month that tends to stress me out. Introverted me gets overwhelmed about the quantity of small-talk holiday gatherings I must attend, cookies and treats I must bake, gifts I must buy, etc. By December 25th, I just end up tired, and cranky and certainly not feeling very edified and spiritually prepared to celebrate the birth of Christ.

This past year as been an extremely busy one for me. It has drained me and stretched me and left me feeling pretty depleted here in late November. I am weary and worn.

But Jesus says come. He says to "be still and know that I am God."

How do I attain this stillness, this tranquil hush where I can hear Him whisper, "My daughter, you are Mine. You are beautiful. You are worth it. You are loved."

Perhaps for me, perhaps for you, this is to be intentional about self-care; perhaps it means creating and oasis of rejuvenation in the midst of a frantic, totally stressed out world.   Perhaps it is in creating that spiritual space - getting rid of the clutter - so there is a place for communion with the Little One when He comes at Christmas.

I remember once in a homily, a priest talking about our duty to love others; and first and foremost, the duty to love and care for ourselves. For if we don't first care for, honor, and love ourselves, we will not be able to be present and whole to those around us. Another time, a priest at a retreat while I was in grad school talked about how "we need Divine Mercy in order to love ourselves." We can be so, so hard on ourselves. We must ask Jesus for His Divine Mercy in order to help us see ourselves as He sees us. If we could do that; we would be receiving the most beautiful and perfect gift at Christmas.

So what will help me to be still? To settle? To be well? I think I will create a list, but for starters, things like making nourishing meals, listening to calming music, writing letters to old friends, gentle exercising, sweetly smelling candles and journaling may be some ways.

In giving myself a little extra care, may I be reminded of the sweetest care that He has for me. Maybe you will too!

Having it All

We want to have it all. We think we should have it all.

There is a pervasive syndrome running through our society today: the syndrome of discontent. We are never really happy with what we have. We always want that one more thing. Many times, these are very good things in and of themselves, but still, we covet. We grasp beyond the lot of what we have been given today. If I only had more money. If only I had a husband. If only I had children. If I only had more children. If only I had children who behaved. If only I had a bigger house. If only I had a nicer house. If only I had another degree. If I only had a more fulfilling job. If only I had more energy. If only I was prettier. If only I was healthier. If only I could travel more. If only I had more time to volunteer. The list goes on and on and on ad nauseam.  

We want it all. 

But you know as well as I - that as soon as we might arrive at one of those things on the list, we are craving the next thing. In the meantime, while we try to be happy and grateful with the gifts we have been given, we continue to long for the perfect life, in the perfect house, with the perfect stuff, and the perfect set of virtues, with the most perfect white picket fence. 

Anything short of this? Crushing discontent.

Because we feel entitled to each of these things. Because the culture tells us that we deserve theses things. Because why shouldn't we want to have it all?

I think that the reason many of us become unhappy and discontent is because we are measuring ourselves up to this extraordinarily fake and unrealistic vision of what we think our lives should be. We feel entitled to each and every one of these things. And when something falls through, or it doesn't come a long in the time frame that we expect, we are disappointed. And sometimes, even angry with God. But who said we were entitled to any of this?

Measuring our lives against these ideals of perfection is crushing our spirits, and robbing us of the precious joy we are meant to hold. The joy that was meant for us, even as we are purified by fire.

We were never promised and of these things. And we certainly don't deserve any of them.

But there are things we are promised. Things that will endure. Things that are meant for each and every one of us:

Faith, hope, and love.

"These things will last forever - faith, hope, and love, and the greatest of these is love." 1 Cor 13:13

No matter what circumstances we find ourselves in: sickness or health, joy or sorrow, wealth or poverty, struggle or sunshine, these gifts are ours for the taking, they are ours in abundance.  We will never lack them, if we but ask. We can have them all. 

Everyday, no matter what is going right, no matter what is going "wrong", we have a chance to receive the gifts of faith, hope, and love. We have the opportunity to grow in faith, hope, and love. These gifts rise far above the confines of earthly life. They are carved into our souls; they lift our spirits; they mold us and strengthen us. The way that they adorn our souls is far more significant than the way any white picket fence adorns a "perfect little life."

In light of this truth, the lies of inadequacy and discontent can begin to fade. We can stop measuring our personal news feed against a backdrop of earthly perfection and ideal circumstances: we can start measuring our progress by the faith that is growing, the hope that is holding on, and the great love in which we "live and move and have our being." Acts 17:28

On Weakness and Flaws and Redemption: A Lenten Reflection

"All of your flaws and all of my flaws

They lie there hand in hand

Ones we've inherited, ones that we learned

They pass from man to man"...Bastille

Lent is that time of year when we look our flaws and examine our weaknesses in a very deliberate way. We identify those parts of us that need improved, purified, redeemed. 

We are flawed. We need to change. We need a program. We need to overcome ourselves. Right?

I know in my own life, though, there is a tendency to use Lent as a "self-improvement project." Identify my flaws, and work on fixing them. This is a very laudable endeavor. We are called to strive for virtue, and Lent is an ideal time to try and cultivate those virtues more intentionally, especially the virtues that we routinely fall short on.

What can end up happening, though, is a overwrought focus on my "success" or my "progress" and my "effort". We can get carried away thinking about how well we are doing on our life improvement plan, rather than using it as an opportunity to focus on our need for grace.

The sheer fact that it is so difficult for me to give up chocolate, or social media, or to pray more for the people that annoy me, or trust that God will provide for me,  is a little pathetic. These little moments of struggle illuminate my weakness.

But what if rather than letting our weakness disgust and discourage us, we were to glory in it. 

Not out of laziness and despair, but out of hope.

What if we don't just simply try and power through, stoically strengthening our self discipline muscles, but to take some time to rest in the reality of that weakness. To come to peace with it. Not to berate ourselves for that weakness. But to glory in that weakness. “So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me.” 2 Corinthians 12:9

Sounds counterintuitive, right?

But it's not.  "God I am WEAK. And I need you."

In encountering our weaknesses and flaws we recognize our dependency. It's as if we can cry out to God,

"There's a hole in my soul

I can't fill it I can't fill it

There's a hole in my soul

Can you fill it? Can you fill it?" (Bastille)

I know the sins and weaknesses that I am prone to. I will probably always struggle with lack of discipline, laziness, desire for comfort, and at times, cowardliness. Your tendencies might be completely different - perhaps yours are anger, resentment, control. But whatever they are, we all have them, and we will battle with them and wrestle with them for a lifetime. It are these very struggles, though, that will be are path to sanctification; these flaws that cry out for a Redeemer. 

Sometimes it frustrates me, whether it's on the way to the confessional, or looking these weaknesses in a more penetrating way during Lent - that I continue to struggle with the same. things. over. and. over. again.

When am I going to overcome these? When will I reach perfection?

These moments where we realize our weakness and sinfulness should not be a moment of self-censure, but an opportunity for Thanksgiving. It is because of weakness that we are dependent on His grace to overcome them. And it is through His grace that we are transformed and saved.

Because it is that place of emptiness, of inadequacy, of failure and defeat, where the torrent of His love must rush in and make us new.

Where we are weak, He is strong.

So at the end of Lent, our perhaps our question should not be "how well did I do in overcoming my flaws, in denying myself?" It should be, "How well did I let Him fill that hole in my soul?"

When His love rushes in to transform the dirty and decrepit places in our souls that are our flaws, we are made new. We are healed. We are made whole. It is by His love, not simply our willpower, that we are transformed.

On the Feast of St. Raphael

Since today is the Feast Day of the Archangels, I found myself reflecting on the Archangel St. Raphael, and the fact that he is both the patron saint of relationships (specifically, matchmaking and marriages), and also a patron of healing. As I was reflecting on this at Mass today, I started thinking about the connection between those two things, and how they can be intertwined. Most especially, I think it is interesting to think about how it is often through relationships that we are brought healing. Relationships, the love and affection that we share with one another, are the most valuable things we have as human persons. As such, there is the capacity to experience great pain in broken relationship. In reflecting on the connection between healing and relationships, one most often thinks about the healing FROM a painful relationship; but what about the healing that is brought to us THROUGH a flourishing relationship? The truth is, I think one of the great gifts of healthy relationships, even those that are just temporary (such as some dating relationships), have the opportunity to bring not only joy and love into our lives, but profound healing as well.

When we are in a relationship, whether its a friendship, a dating relationship, relationship with a sibling, relationship with a spouse, we have the opportunity to speak healing into another's life. I do not mean this in a clinical sort of way, but through the transformative power of interpersonal connection. By the way we love the other; by the way we affirm the dignity of the other; by the way we challenge the other to use their gifts; by the way we speak hope where there was darkness - healing enters in. I think this is such a beautiful, but perhaps under recognized, dynamic within relationships. The fact that we have the ability to minister to others we are in relationship with, and bring healing to the wounds of one another -simply through our presence and our love - is a very powerful thing.

To be perfectly honest, I think even within the context of dating relationships that eventually fizzle, we can encounter the healing effect of the other. Just as within a positive dating/courtship relationship have have the ability to bring the other person joy, affection, and love, I think that we can also be used by God as an instrument of healing to one another. Somehow, in a mysterious way, we can achieve a greater wholeness, through our dating encounters and friendships and experiences along the journey. Certainly, pain and heartbreak can also be threaded in relationship loss. But I think if we look closely enough, we can also see how healing and growth was a part of the best relationships too - and recognize those parts of relationships that were in fact, redeeming and restorative to our soul. Ultimately, these experiences bind us up into the person we are meant to become.

And so on this Feast Day, through the intercession of St. Raphael, may we thank the Lord for all the ways He has brought us healing through our friends and family and relationships. May we be made whole and help others on their path to wholeness. May we be instruments of the Divine Healer to all He puts in our path.

To walk on earth

Photo Credit

 A beautiful reflection from St. Teresa Benedicta (Edith Stein), that I think is very fitting for Lent.. .

"Only those who are saved, only children of grace can in fact be bearer's of Christ's cross. Only in union with the divine Head does suffering take on expiatory power. To suffer and to be happy although suffering, to have one's feet on the earth, to walk along the dirty and rough paths of this earth and yet be enthroned with Christ at the Father's right hand, to laugh and cry with the children of this world and ceaselessly to sing the praises of God with the choirs of angels, this is the life of the Christian until the morning of eternity breaks forth."  ~ Edith Stein, HL 91-93

What holds you back?

In the Lenten season, it is easy to focus on external practices. Most especially, to let our Lenten devotion be predominated by the penances we choose. No chocolate. No TV. No meat. etc. Fasting and strengthening our self-discipline are extremely important things for us to cultivate, this is true. But it is so easy to stop here, at the more material penances, than to use the season of self-denial to really probe into further introspection.

Something God has brought to the forefront of my heart this Lent, is to look at the things inside my heart that hold me back from Him. Is it chocolate? Is it the radio? Is it meat? I can definitely over indulge in these things, and there is plenty of room in my life for more discipline. But there are far, far deeper things that are holding me back from truly allowing myself to feel the love of God.

For starters...

discouragement
lack of trust
not truly believing I am worthy of the love of God
not enough thirst for holiness
self-centeredness

I think God is calling me to begin to let go of THESE things in my life.

How do you even begin to give up "lack of faith in God"? I'm just going to guess that this is not something that can be completely rooted out in 40 days. But, if I allow God to take a shovel to the soil of my heart, and begin to loosen the soil around these weaknesses...this is progress. After all, it's only by getting rid of these dark weeds that suffocate a chance for complete surrender to God, that there will be room for His love to truly take root and reside.

Time to write again

Any artist or creative person knows that art output can be seasonal. We have seasons of prolific production; more often we have seasons of stark dryness, amidst our best intentions. Sometimes we should push ourselves to write, create, and produce through the dryness. Other times, there is an inner voice that tells us to "be still." Likewise, sometimes there are so many intense, confusing, and energy-consuming events going on in our lives, that we desire to ponder, sift, and sort it all out internally. That's ok. When the springtime of creativity comes upon us again, we will know it, and we will have a new found desire to write, to paint, to sculpt, to sing - to sing our songs aloud again - the tunes and stories being all the richer after a deep season of creative winter.

All this to say, I think it's spring again for me. Something inside me is moving me to write again. I can't promise perpetual profundity, but at least I'll be writing. Thanks for coming along for the journey - hopefully I can devote at least a little time each week to writing here!

Words for today

"To Isaiah, the voice said 'Go,' and for each of us there are many voices that say it, but the question is which one we will obey with our lives, which of the voices that call is to be the one we answer. No one can say, of course, except each for himself, but I believe that it is possible to say in general to all of us: we should go with our lives where we most need to go and where we are most needed.

Where we most need to go. Maybe that means that the voice we should listen to as we choose a vocation is the voice that we might think we should listen to least, and that is the voice of our own gladness. What can we do that makes us gladdest, what can we do that leaves us with the strongest sense of sailing true north and of peace, which is much of what gladness is?Is it making things with our hands out of wood or stone or paint on canvas? Or is it making something we hope like truth out of words? Or is it making people laugh in a way that cleanses their spirit? I believe that if it is a thing that makes us truly glad, then it is a good thing and it is our thing and it is the calling voice that we were made to answer with our lives."

~~ Frederick Buechner, "Secrets in the Dark: A Life in Sermons -- Chapter 6, The Calling of Voices"

Be still

"Be still and know I am God" ~ Psalm 46:10

There is something about Advent, particularly this year, that makes me think of the beauty and value of stillness. Perhaps it is the image of that still night in Bethlehem, amidst the starry sky, that the Savior was born. Perhaps it is the stillness of Mary's heart that especially comes to mind - her courageous "Fiat" to bear the Son of God and her singleheartedness to be obedient to God's plan; perhaps it is the beautiful description of how when Christ was born she "pondered all of these things in her heart" (Luke 2:19). Clearly, Our Lady was able to embrace the grace of living in the moment, contemplating the glory of the Lord in her heart and not letting the distractions of the world distract her gaze on the things of the Lord.

It reminds me again how I need stillness in my life. Or, more specifically, stillness in my heart. I am pretty good at "sitting still" and do try to not overload my schedule so much that I don't have at least some time for prayer, reflection, and contemplation. But the time I carve out for these things isn't always a number one priority for me as it should be. Even more so, I see the need in my life for stillness of heart. For having the grace to be still in the Lord -- to know that He is God. Such a simple statement, but what a profound impact it would have on a life that it truly penetrated.

There have been a lot of distractions in my life lately. Mostly good things -- new activities, new opportunities, new people and friendships. But in navigating new territories, my heart has definitely become prone to distraction. Wondering how things will work out. Wondering how all the pieces fit together. Wondering what I should say. Wondering what God thinks. Wondering what's next. A thousand thoughts clamor for my attention, and at the end of the day I find myself exhausted.

"Be still, and know that I am God."

If I could let this stillness seep in, peace would pervade, and those thousand thoughts will be quieted by the knowledge that there is just One that I need.

And in contemplating the One, in basking in this stillness I can wait with a steadfast heart for the coming of my Redeemer.

Not mine to hold

In my women's bible study, we recently talked at length about Hannah and her incredible faith. We marveled not only at the faith and perseverance of Hannah in her steadfast prayer to God to grant her a son, but in her complete surrender of offering her son back to God after He had granted her petition. That a woman could give back to God the very gift that she had been praying for, for so very long, is just mind-boggling. Somehow, in her intense faith, she saw that the greater gift was not just that God granted her a son, but that she could then in turn give her son back to God.

When God grants us a prayer, gives us that gift for which we have been so long begging Him -- isn't it within our nature to hold that gift as tightly as possible? To cherish it closely, never let it out of our sight, and, even though subtly, hold our arms around it protectively, so that it cannot be taken away from us?

Even if it's a little thing, just the hint of the possibility of a desire fulfilled; do we snatch it up and build walls around ourselves? Say to ourselves with satisfaction, "It's about time!" Or, on the other hand, do we hover around this gift, tip-toeing softly, making sure we do not mess it up, or do anything that might destroy the pearl of happiness that stands so precariously in our midst?

It could be a new job, a longed for adventure, the hope of conceiving a child, the blossoming of a new relationship, a new found consolation in the Lord, a refreshing peace of soul. Whatever it is, it is that Evasive Thing; the missing piece to our happiness that we have pleaded for, and pleaded for, and pleaded for. And for all we know, once we get a whiff of it, we better dare not let it out of our sight, lest we never encounter the opportunity once more.

It's funny, the lengths the heart goes to define, and mold, and protect its happiness. As if these things were really ours to hold. When in reality, "every good and perfect gift is from above" (James 1:17) and it is offered to us in His perfect timing, for the glory of His name. I'm pretty sure that the sooner I realize this, and the sooner I acknowledge that everything is His, the sooner peace will prevail in my heart. As I was thinking about all of this and the little ways it is playing out in my life right now, I heard this song by Audrey Assad, "Everything is Yours." It was such a comfort and inspiration to me. A reminder to let go; to give everything back to God. The only thing that I am called to hold onto is the Love which holds me.

For friends

Recently heard this duet by Amy Grant and Nicole Nordeman, and thought it was so moving. Apparently it is based on the friendship of Ruth and Naomi. Once again, makes me realize the gift I have in friendship with so many beautiful, holy women. I am so grateful to be walking this road of life with such dear friends. Many of us single ladies know the joys, hardships, and confusion of this stage of the journey all too well. And one of the things that make the challenge much more bearable is by bearing eachother's burdens, by lifting eachother's faces, and by walking on His path, side by side as we try "to gather up [our] dreams/trying to hold on to anything". As the song says, "Until your heart, finds a home / I won’t let you feel alone / I’m with you, I’m with you, with you" Gals, your strength and perseverance encourages me; your friendship and solidarity blesses me. I'm with you!

tidbits

Wow, I feel like every time I finally decide to write a post, I have to include some sort of an apology or introduction since it's been such a long time since I last wrote. Busy-ness is the main reason for my blogging silence, along with a lack of inspiration of topic ideas and just generally losing some interest, I suppose. So some random tidbits to get the writing juices flowing again...

1. Last month a few young ladies and began a bible study on the women of the bible. It's been wonderful to have fellowship with other young professional ladies like myself. Young adult groups have their place, as does lots of casual time spent in the company of friends. But there is something really special and valuable about getting together with other women who are in the same state of life as you (young and single) and praying together and encouraging each other to grow in holiness. I have already been very blessed by this opportunity, and am grateful for the added accountability and spiritual focus which it has offered me.

2. I have been thoroughly enjoying the autumn here in Tennessee. The days have been sunny, but cooler, and the leaves are on the cusp of changing colors. My parents and youngest sister came down to visit this weekend, and we had a lovely time enjoying Nashville in the fall. One of the highlights was attending a "Full Moon Picking Party", where hundreds of people gathered at a lovely state park to listen to bluegrass bands while sitting out on blankets and folding chairs under the starry sky and (almost) full moon. In addition to the main acts, there were dozens of small circles of "pickers' playing their mandolins, ukuleles, guitars, and other bluegrass instruments. Refreshments for the evening included delicious kettle corn. Tennessee culture at it's best!

3. My current spiritual theme in life is, trusting that I am where God wants me, while continually trying to walk forward into the new "places" He wants to take me. More than anything, these places are new ways of understanding, new risks I am taking, deeper ways to perceive what He has given me, in this very moment.

4. I am beginning to get hungry. I think I will make some Persian Lentil Soup for dinner. The sun is setting and it is starting to get chilly again. Perfect time for some soup!

The Slow Work of God

by Father Pierre Teilhard de Chardin


Above all, trust in the slow work of God.

We are all, quite naturally, impatient in everything
to reach the end without delay.

We should like to skip the intermediate stages.

We are impatient of being on the way to something unknown,
something new;

And yet, it is the law of all progress that it is made
by passing through some stages of instability
– and that it may take a very long time.

And so I think it is with you.

Your ideas mature gradually — let them grow,
let them shape themselves without undue haste.

Don’t try and force them on as though you could be today
what time (that is to say, grace and circumstances acting on your own good will)
will make you tomorrow.

Only God can say what this new spirit
gradually forming within you will be.

Give God the benefit of believing that the Spirit of God
is leading you, forming you, transforming you;

And accept the anxiety of feeling yourself
in suspense and incomplete.

Stopping by

I am afraid that my hopes of blogging more now that I am back into the fall routine haven't materialized much! Long, busy days at work have left me tired in the evenings, mostly tired of typing at a computer screen, and so the motivation to blog has been lacking. But I think many bloggers tend to agree that the updating of these slates tend to ebb and flow, depending on our distraction and inspiration. Tis the reality of writing, and life! But for now, I just wanted to stop by and say a quick 'hello' to my loyal readers.

And now, a photo for your enjoyment.

Pastoral Tennessee, via the Natchez Trace Parkway

More than (continued)

"These notes will have been entirely useless if they have not helped to bring us to a place where our happiness does not depend on the work we are doing, the place we are in, our friends, our health, whether people notice us or not, praise us or not, understand us or not. No single one of the circumstances has any power in itself to upset the joy of God, but it can instantly and utterly quench it if we look at the circumstances instead of into the Face of light and love that is looking down upon us - the Face of our own God.

This is the shining path, stretching away from the place where we stand to-day to the very heart of God. This is the shining path that shineth more and more as we walk in it."

~ Amy Carmichael, The Edge of His Ways