The healing that comes with the friendship of trees....

I knew for days that I was supposed to watch the movie, Avatar.  I was being pulling back into it.  I wasn't aware of why.  Then this scene:

Jake Sully: Look, I know you probably don't understand this...
[Neytiri ignores him and speaks Na'vi]
Jake Sully: Thank you.
[Neytiri speaks Na'vi]
Jake Sully: That was pretty impressive. I would have been screwed if you hadn't come along.
[Neytiri stands up and leaves. Jake follows her]
Jake Sully: Hey, wait a second! Where are you goin'? Wait up! Just, hey, slow down! I just wanted to say thanks for killin' those things...
[Neytiri hits him with her bow]
Jake Sully: Aah! Damn!
Neytiri: Don't thank. You don't thank for this! This is sad. Very sad only.
Jake Sully: Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Whatever I did, I'm sorry.
Neytiri: All this is your fault. They did not need to die.
Jake Sully: My fault? They attacked me! How am I the bad guy?
Neytiri: Your fault! Your fault.
Jake Sully: Easy. Easy...
Neytiri: You are like a baby. Making noise, don't know what to do. 

And I began to weep.

I realized more places where I was "like a baby," in things that matter.  All the places I would call good evil and evil good.  The places that still reverberate within me more as American Non denominational consumer based "christian," playing with things of the spirit with no, to little understanding  versus settling into knowing God. His heart, His vision, His purposes... His ways that are higher then.

His reality.

His understanding.

 His spoken good into Creation and very good into man...

What did it all mean? What does it all mean?  What is the fullness of Christ's High Priestly prayer of oneness? What is the oneness of the Body of Christ? What is it to truly be only as strong as our weakest part? The reality of so much of truth; that I and the culture and form of Christianity  I participate within, don't understand. Aren't willing to understand or touch possible understanding out of fear or laziness.. Yet the premise and foundations for it all are within our very scriptures. 

The truths that His power is made perfect in weakness but I hate weakness.
That the poor are blessed and called rich, but I want money to spend and entertain myself
That the meek rule and yet I want to be strong and show but metered vulnerabilities
That in losing life we find it but who truly wants to die and face loss
That not leaning on our own understanding but in all our ways acknowledging God our paths will be made straight unless of course it comes to planning out a Sunday service or a 5 year plan for church growth

In oh so many ways, I am "like baby."

Except today a tutor came on the scene.

 I am deeply moved.

Altered.

 Struck dumb.

Sitting with my husband who has loved the trees well; we have talked and talked this evening about many things ... Still, I am "like baby," but I am being held by beauty and transformation and growth is being added to me.

Here is my story of this afternoon... Beauty, and moments not sought after could have been easily ignored. Ever so grateful God has pressed in teaching me to listen to the stillest of whispers; the gentlest of breezes.

I sat on the patio with a bag full of reading needing to be done. Except I was drawn to my notebook.  Reading some journal entries I had written yesterday.  Then I knew. Pick up pen.  Find new page. No reading for class was going to be done.  As I looked to my left, trees caught my attention. 

As I looked in front of me, trees caught my attention.

My whole being alighted.

The sky began to pulse, the earth began to sing and the trees began to whisper.  His voice became clear within the symphony of creation. " This is Creation's groan for you.  For you to understand and be revealed as a daughter."

  Creations groans go unheard more often then not and yet they are still sung over and over and over again. Their melodies are never not in the air.

This is my journey  of the afternoon. The affects reverberate deep and deeper still.  I  lay down, now, in my bed, reviewing in my mind the dance and beauty of the trees. Smiling. More full. Breathing. At rest.

The tree taught me many secrets this day; she and I will know one another forever.  I am not special that I heard  her song, I was just willing to listen.

This is how it began.

Father's desire came through the clouds wooing me to look up and enjoy Creation.  The sky, the clouds, the breeze, the air, the trees, the earth... the music was pure and brilliant and fun.  Creation was smiling. The Lord was smiling as I lifted my head from what I wanted to do, allowing all that I am to be touched and brought away from what I wanted to occupy my time with.

The blue of the sky expressed its nature.  Blue and tones of purple swirled to form the sky as did the white clouds enter covering the sun; illuminating themselves, making a display so awe inspiring that I was moved by wonder and fascination at how Creation so quickly bowed and obeyed.  Creating a most entrancing blend of color, light, sound, air,  and all the more that English language is not mature enough to bring forth fullness of explanation.

His voice came through the scene, through the clouds as it added to the wholeness of all that was transpiring.  "When you lock yourself into me and practice radical abiding, you live. A branch can not live apart from the tree and the tree needs its roots."  I could sense the wonder of the trees as the Lord talked about them.  How they love Him. They recognize Him for Creator always.  Never do they not know Him.  Never do they not bow.  We could learn much from trees.

Then He continued, " A tree needs its roots to go deep and its branches to stretch reaching up; meeting the air, meeting the sky.

Abide,

Abiding... Lean into that reality. Lean. Lean even more. Lean with everything in you.

I am the Vine. You are the branch."

Then I knew to pray and ask my Lord, my God; Creator of all that was and is and is to come the following,

Deepen the roots
Reach down and empower healing to go to all their ends.
(Knowing I was praying for generations  past and all that that entails.)
I reach up
Up into the air.
Reaching for warmth, sun, clouds, air, breath

I knew inside of me that by watching the reality of the trees in this season of Spring that  healing ... deep healing would enter my soul.  So I sat. I sat and I watched her and as I watched her I began to hear something ever so slightly.  I began to connect dots.  The beckoning to know to lean was for this moment. I was not to be afraid. I was not to think this wasn't happening.  I was to lean.  I was to lean into the moment. In leaning into the moment, in listening to the objective of the lesson taught merely minutes before, transformation began to saturate my flesh bearing into my soul.

The tree was singing.  Singing its Spring time songs.  Reaching up...  stretching down.
And I realized the last line of my prayer was actually picking up on the first line of the song of the tree.  Giving me their words.....

Reaching for warmth, sun, clouds, air, breath;
They enter to travel down..
Coursing through your frame
While the roots reach down into the depths of earth
meeting Earthen soil, minerals, nutrients pulling them up

Breeze and air,
sunlight and the kisses of the stars saturate your branches, your  leaves, your fragrance cascading downwards through all that you are
Earthen riches seep into your roots, feeding hunger.. strengthening base.

Moisture and Dew caught forth from the Heavens are pulled up as if through a straw by that which anchors you firmly into Earth.

The richness and gifts of air and earth meet within and form out a most incredible song.
If I dare to listen to its holy message I will find myself changed, renewed.. made strong.

You that stand so mighty, so full, with such stature and beauty reaching towards Heaven and mining the Earth tell me your secrets, convey to me your mysteries and sing to me your songs.  Your longing.. your groaning is that we would be revealed as the sons and daughters of God.. of the sons and daughters of Creator that we are....  Your songs so full of hope, so melodious.. so utterly aching for liberty.. so deep and full of the earth and yet so light and saturated with breeze that the notes float along the clouds.

Tell me your secrets
convey to me your mysteries
within your trunk it is all found
Rings upon rings
 It, you, all sing a melody... a melodious symphony cascades deeply from within sky rocketing up from the tops of your branches.. swirling together the songs of earthen creation and heavenly atmospheres.
It is a grander music.. it is a grander sound.. it is a grander symphony than has ever been known to man...
We have touched it here and there... those that listen and borrow from it's excellence...

Trees are magnificent tutors..

More prayers erupted from the depths of my soul...

Oh sweet tree, giver of life and fruit and that which is embodied to your care...
May I never negate you or treat you less than the divine good spoken upon thee..
You are  gift
You are friend...

The moment those words were spoken, I was caught up into a vision and I was standing next to the tree... I placed my hand upon its bark and all that was the tree coursed from the inside to meet my hand on it's exterior.

I closed my eyes
Warmth
Light
Breeze
Clouds fill out the sky, making lavender blueness with its pale essence.
Sun, cloud, sky .. they all nurture and again a fullness of music and sound and song and notes began ever so quietly.

I could see how in moments not recognized by us .. by me...  Humanity feels strengthened by the efforts and songs of the earth and sky, the trees, the grass, the air, light, color, wind... We hear it not with the ears given to us but yet these notes silently register upon our person.. upon hungry.. upon starved souls.

Blue meets purple as a kiss and forms out sky
White enters not as a timid ballerina but effortlessly stretching across the canvas; the stage of the sky with strength and precision.  White filtering and filling in the song.  Light erupts through them all.. through blue, purple, white, sky and cloud...  liken unto a cymbal marking a transition of movement in this most majestic symphony of Creation.

It is the day.  It is the music of the sky, saying come look at me... come gaze into me ... Into you I will flow with life such as a  melody that will alter you and bring you further up and further into His ways.

This is not a distraction but an impartation. Creation knows its Creator with the goodness spoken into its essence while humanity allows distraction away from reality of the very good and image reflecting properties of Him.  "Is it any  wonder why we groan," asked the tree? " How is that we, as good, as lesser.. know ?  Listen to our songs and be pulled up into His ways...."

Then I saw life within in the tree and it was magnificent...

 

A song continued to emerge. The more I was willing to listen, the more I could hear the life.  

Let me course through you and sing you a song that will strengthen your frame.  

I am light

I am air

I am wind, gust, breeze

I am water

I am fire

I am earth

I am sky

Each has a song

a call

a story

a melody

 a place

Each has a hunger

Each has a passion

Each has a way

I knew I felt stronger and I knew I was called to abide, abide deeply and learn to abide even deeper still.

I knew I was to breathe in and listen and heal

I knew Creation's groan and song were for me, for us all...

I knew I was being made more full.. more whole... I knew that the groan's of earth contained tears I could not shed for who I was not yet willing to be, but that she would not relent until I was formed fully into His image... for it was out of her that I was made.. out of her earthen dust ... earthen dust met divine breathe and I came forth...  It would be in her groan and again His divine breathe that I would be made new...

I knew I was to cultivate the awareness of what light and air and breathe and color and creation's song does for me, how it strengthens me as it bows all that it is to the One who spoke it all into existence. 

Then as the moments began to fade one last heart beat of instruction coursed forth on a fresh gust of air...

Trust

trust and believe

hope and nurture hope .. be and become 

Let love come... Let yourself be loved.

Then the words and picture that emerged healed depths of loneliness and pangs of sorrow...Creation befriended me; the tree specifically... But sun, air, light, color, song all took it's place, smiling.

I'll enfold you in my branches and wrap you in my bough

I'll hold your very being .. your body

Leaves once covered frightened human beings confounded by deception and pained by shame, let us cover you the same..

abide.. Abide!

This was my last prayer as the sun began to make its way slightly further down...

"You've touched my loneliness through creation and met me...  Bypassing my defenses through beauty, color, creation, wind, air, sound and song. You have cradled me and nurtured my inner most being.. thank you.. thank you (was being spoken to Father and to His creation, His trees.) "

And the sun smiled

And the wind played

And the child was carried up and beyond the notes Creation sung to her 

And God was pleased and called it good

And God was very pleased, thoroughly  happy and called it very good.

 

Recipe for Healing and Hope

It isn't that I am unaware that Easter has come and gone.
We've held the palm branches
We've sung Hosanna

But I want more.....

This year, as Holy Week approached, I found myself within the moments of a retreat.  The meditation was to follow Jesus to the courtyard of the House of Caiaphas and then onto the House of Pilate.

The stories and  scriptures that fill out this time are known.
Peter's rejection and denial.
Beatings.
Torture.
Verbal assault.

My inner most being was troubled as I attempted to touch what those courtyards would have looked like, sounded like, smelt like, tasted like, felt like. I cringed.  My own emotions so very raw.  These weren't the moments of a last meal, a foot washing, last minute lessons and prayers, agony in a garden, betrayal by kisses.

These were the moments of the crowds who were the ones who were counted among the 5000 who ate of bread and fishes that did not exist before they did. These were the moments of a man standing stripped down, beaten, bleeding; hearing the roars of a crowd choose another, a murderer over himself.  These moments were too much to bare for my soul.

The beauty of it was that He knew that.

The beauty, of what was to emerge as I touched paper and read the reflection questions and began to think about journaling, would impact my life with deep rivers of hope and healing.  Allowing myself to sense the flow of Holy Spirit bringing me to the Lover of my soul, I would begin to hear words that would take me away from those courtyards.  Words that would take me away from the screaming and torture.  Words that would bring me to the garden, words that would bring me to the cool evening breezes of the first days of creation, words that would bring me into the very heart of Him.

These are the words.. This was the experience... Room, other retreatants, paper, pen would all fade away.  Sky, fresh air, beauty and wonder would take their place.... He would take my hand, He would gaze into my eyes, He would speak forth from His heart and He would make all things new..........  Not just for the world. For me................

I am daybreak...
I am joy...

I remember.
Into my mind flashes when the air was brand new and Adam had arisen from the soil.

Take my hand and travel with me

I hear the jeering of the crowds.
But watch me...
Watch my face, seem my demeanor, see my peace --

Touch my joy.

Insults, anger, hatred ---
Blood upon soil.

Cain killing his brother
Humanity killing me

Abel's blood cried aloud for justice, mine will do deeper; mine will saturate the soil of the Earth diving deeply into it's core.

I am brought back to the screams of the courtyard, yet my ears and heart and eyes see the vestiges of the tempter.  I see beyond the flesh of my created pots, of my created ones; I look beyond their flesh into their inner most beings.  Seeing their deepest needs.

Inwardly I smile as my flesh cringes from the forces that surround.

I remember.

Within my thoughts, within my mind's eye I flash back to the coolness of grass beneath my feet, the dew that hung heavy.  The laughter, innocence and beauty of Adam. The destiny of those that will flow forth from Eve.

The woman's body who will one day hold mine.

I look at Adam's hands. I shudder.  Knowing one day such hands will pierce my own.  The day that is beyond these memories.  The day that is before me now.

I behold  Creation;  garden --stars, beauty.

Eternity past before the, "Let it be's," were ever spoken.  Eternity future when the church will be my Bride sitting with me at the feast of the all ages. Consummation of my Father's dream.  The depths of His heart fashioned, forged -- brought forth.

My inner quiet is broken by a child's voice.  "Crucify Him," she says.  A beautiful young girl, with deep brown hair whose curls form out her face, has opened her mouth and begun to echo the words she has heard her own father speak.  Echoing his cries the child screams for my death.

Sorrow shakes into my depths. My eyes close. My soul troubled stills.

My own voice will very soon echo the heart expression of another, of my Father.  I too will echo the heart beat of a Father. The words, "Forgive them my Lord; forgive them my Father.. For they know not what they do," will respond through all time.

Do not be afraid, dear heart... Death, pain, sorrow knows no completed victory.



I am liken unto that little girl in those courtyards.  I have listened to voices contrary to the ways of life. I listen to voices contrary to the ways of life.  Grateful there is a voice which resounds stronger; with a resolute nature more firm then anything I could ever imagine. Those sounds .. that melody is becoming  louder and I am hearing the symphony, the recipe for healing and hope upon the waves of the air.  They surround me and remake me.....

As we head towards the days of Ascension. As we head to the days of empowerment.  Let us be ever more aware that there are ways that are so much higher than our own, that will lift us up and grant us strength.  Be lifted up.


Look up, you gates! Rise up, you eternal doors! Then the majestic king will enter!
Psalm 24:7

"But when these things begin to take place, straighten up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near." - See more at: http://bible.knowing-jesus.com/topics/Lifting-Heads#sthash.mAQ1BEtC.dpuf

"But when these things begin to take place, straighten up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near." - See more at: http://bible.knowing-jesus.com/topics/Lifting-Heads#sthash.mAQ1BEtC.dpuf

How boxes get demolished.... A pin hole became an explosion....

"It didn't happen that way," I said as I looked into the elder's eyes.  Sitting across the table from me, she had just spoken about my journey as having ripped open the boxes I had found myself in. It wasn't that way.  I didn't feel it was that way.

 "I simply put a tiny pin hole into one side and the light that started to pour in wouldn't leave me alone," was the essence of what I said back.  I spoke of having met with an Episcopal priest, who I called my friend, (his kindness in a season of need lives in my heart deeply) and I shared how in our early conversations we would talk about the picture of my life being more liken to a trapeze bar with my fingers white knuckle gripping it than anything else.

Questions had been posed seasons before by a brilliant spiritual director; asking me, who I was outside of ministry.  Who was Mims Driscoll? Deep echos arose within me  with a whisper that became a shout that then found a voice.  But the rumblings started just with the words; "I can't do this anymore."

I couldn't touch ministry like a business any longer.
I couldn't touch the fact that the usage of social media and marketing strategies felt a tad like selling out.
I wondered what did it look like to really know God and not some image of Him I had created or been told to know because I live in a Westernized culture and that was the image that God was...

I wondered and I battled and I drove myself crazy with questions.

Brene Brown does a brilliant thing in her book, The Gift of Imperfections.  She takes Emotional Breakdown and crosses it out and writes over top of it the words, "Spiritual Awakening."  I vacillated between the two and laughed with my therapist as I would hold up my quote fingers and say things like, "yeah, right 'Spiritual Awakening,' my a$$."

The one action I didn't take was I didn't and haven't stopped. I didn't give up. I didn't look back. Well, at least not enough to become a pillar of salt. My heart ached for the proverbial Egypts I had known. I felt eaten alive by the questions reverberating within the walls of my body. They were stretching my heart to desire freedom at all costs. Some of the costs landed upon my soul with weights of sorrow and fatigue.

Longing and desire would end up trumping those moments that disturbed sleep and awake times alike.  Questions would only continue to gain steam. Wonderment would only continue to break apart decades worth of religiously holding on to my culture's (non-denominational Charismatic Conservative Christian) sacred cows.

My culture's sacred cows?!?

Why had I never heard a sermon that addressed the reality of the feminine nature of God?  If I am made in the image of God and there is terminology that would call the Lord, the many breasted one, look it up.. the Hebrew word, El Shaddai.  Why don't we recognize that non-liturgy is a form of liturgy? What would it mean to take the celebration of the Eucharist with a reverence and awe due it's reality? Is all the activity we spend our lives on really the Lord ? How much of it is?  What about silence and stillness?  Does the pursuit of Holy Spirit always have to end in some external manifestation?  Why is a service shown up to be better than another if that happens versus if the movement of the Lord was upon something less visually grandiose?
What role does social media and marketing really play within ministry in the 21st Century?  What about the reality of Oneness and the High Priestly prayers of Christ? Why haven't I heard more sermons on that subject? (more on that in a bit.)

Then came the one that grabbed a hold of me with a tenacity that would not let go, what about my faith was because I lived in the society I did? What about my expression of Christianity wasn't authentic? What about my faith wasn't based upon who Christ really is? What about my Christianity was because I was saved in the West?  What about my faith was because I was an American? What about my faith was a table waiting to be toppled? What about my faith and who I saw God as was more of a golden calf formed by the hands of man versus a God that truly existed upon a fire full mountain? Or everywhere around me for that matter?

The questions only continued...

But then so did a couple prayers begin to emerge...

The first prayer, which if I knew where it would have led me, I am not sure I would have started praying it over a year ago is found in the sixteenth chapter of John's gospel.  Standing upon on the statement that the Holy Spirit will come and lead people into all truth, I began to pray those very words.  The rumblings of the earth that was my life was going to experience an earth quake that would blow the Richter scale away.

The second prayer would do nothing less.  Based on the prayers that are attributed to St. Francis of Assisi;  "Who are you, Lord, my God and who am I?  I wanted and want to know that which is God not based upon my own human understanding but based upon the fact that I do actually believe there is a God who Created and that found human form in Christ and is also represented by Holy Spirit.  Who is that? Versus who is the that I would want it to be? Or culture or church has taught me?  And in light of those questions and possible answers, who am I?

What is that reality?

I had read Malcolm Gladwell's book, Outlier, years ago and in a moment back then had wondered what would it look like to focus the 10,000 hours upon knowing God.  Knowing Him not based upon theological study or service alone but sitting with Him in silence, in movement, in Creation, in nature, in cathedrals, in hospitals, in caves, in forests, in cities, in towns, and the list continues. Knowing Him sitting with the elderly, sitting with infants, sitting with friends, sitting with enemies, sitting with others of different faith expressions, sitting with others from different cultures, sitting with men, sitting with women, sitting with the poor, sitting with the rich, sitting with the illiterate, sitting with the well-educated and that list goes on and on.

Who is this God?  Who is the Lord? Who is He as He exists? What makes Him/Her happy?  I have to use both  pronouns.  English sucks at words to express the reality of God at times.  I do not believe barring that Jesus was a man that God has genitala.  God is spirit and made both male and female in that image.  The feminine and the masculine qualities that reverberate within both male and female; why don't we talk more about these things?

Why don't Christians talk more about the amazing High Priestly prayer of Christ towards the end of His life?  The one in which He goes into Oneness.  Why?  What causes so much fear of being deceived that we don't look at the truth of the powerful reality of Oneness?

 I have found in my journey that we, as Christians are so afraid of getting it wrong that we don't attempt to get it right in so many arenas.  We stay small and within the boxes we carve for ourselves and the starving faithful.  I don't want to stay small.  I don't want to be deceived either. But my belief these days are at least two fold if not more....  First, if God is who I believe and want to believe that God is.. Then my belief MUST be that God is more capable to keep me from deception and will not let me be led astray if every day I am praying for the Holy Spirit to lead me into all truth.  Scripturally  I am asking for bread and I am told I will not be given a stone.  Secondly, if God so loved the world.. then I have to believe that God is sooooo much bigger than anything I could ever really comprehend and yet in that grand largeness is made known... But it is that largeness that holds mystery and I can't dwindle that down to simple or basic concepts just so I can sleep better at night.

So in my conversation with my friend that I spoke of in the beginning of this journey into this post... I said things like this....

I have learned from the Native Americans and their songs and understanding of spiritual matters. I have learned more from them about the idea and concept of Oneness of all things than I ever have within the church.  I have come to understand Christ more and the passion that the Father and He shared with Holy Spirit.  The passion that we would understand how ultimately connected we all are even unto Creation.  We were formed out of the ground!  The goodness of God is invested within it all and the very goodness of God within humanity.  This I have been taught not in the church but through my touching another culture.  A culture that is willing to touch and see the Spirit of God in ways that Western church culture isn't.

I have learned more about living in the now moment and not worrying about tomorrow from Buddhist writing and yoga practice.  I have learned about non-violence towards self and others.  I have learned how to love myself and then love others as I love myself more through a few months of yoga practice then years within Christian service.  I have learned to honor the fact that when God spoke that we are the Light of the world that the deposit of light is within me and within those I see and to honor that reality is beautiful and true not heretical.   I have learned more about loving - kindness and how to express it not in a performance oriented structure based on hierarchical foolishness but in the reality of earthy, practical means.

I have been moved by music and expression of other cultures and faiths and brought more fully back into my own.  Pema Chodrin, a Buddhist nun, goes into that.  The boat I know to be the boat that I am to live and worship upon is the reality of Christ as the expression of God upon the earth and that which that entails.  I just know it is so much bigger and full of love then anything anyone ever had the courage to teach me....

People stay in boxes.  They are safe. They are predictable. They enslave. They enclose. They suffocate.  I didn't blast through my box.  I opened a pin hole and the light shined in the darkness and that has made all the difference... It isn't deception it is life... It isn't heretical it is love.. People stay in boxes for many reasons. I just couldn't sit in the dark any longer..... Holy Spirit brooded over the chaos of my life and God spoke let there be light and the light arose and is washing away the dark spaces that boxes had created....

I didn't just have to go out of my own non-denomination denomination, I had to be willing to step larger than my own faith was willing to teach me....  not negating my faith but appreciating the courage and wealth that is deposited within others......

Journey your own journey...

Begin a prayer walk and see where it takes you.. I had no idea it would take me where it has but the prayers asking Holy Spirit to lead me and God to reveal who the I Am actually is and then who I am actually is  has left me altered and more... I am more than I was before... I love Christ more than I ever have and am freer to do so then I ever was... Not asking or waiting for the permission of men to venture out into the deep darknesses but trusting that the call to the mountain of God is better than hanging around with humans forming golden images.  I don't want a golden image of a calf.  I want the real..I have been added to and not taken away from... I have watched perfected love come into my existence and wash away more and more and more fear....

For that I am grateful.. 

And now the journey continues.....

Breaking the hold of the having to get it right mentality...

I started off Holy Week at a beautiful retreat.  During those hours I came to face to face with some deep realities that were lodged in the depth of my soul.  One of the moments that was created had attendees standing before the cross as Jesus died.  The movements prior to this one had had some amazing encounters with the Spirit of the Lord.  This one stumped me.

The moment was entitled; "I stand beneath the cross, loving Jesus unto death." What would I do standing before Jesus as He died upon the cross?  What would I feel? What would it feel like?   These are some of the words that I wrote in those moments....

• Allowing things to die in my life... the brutality and pain and horror of deaths both large and small.
• What is the "appropriate" thing to do?
• How am I supposed to behave?
• What noise do I make? Do I cry? Can my eyes take in what they are seeing? What do I do? What do I want to do? Do I do that ? Is there shock? Unbelief? Horror?

And then I began to write this:

I could picture being numb; dazing out.. letting my mind wander beyond the present moments; beyond that which was happening.  The emotional exhaustion of the moments that had preceded his crucifixion. The emotion and weirdness of this moment.  Roman soldiers casting lots for His clothing, while John and Mary and Mary stood watching the One they loved suffer beyond anything imaginable.  Hearing words of a thief being welcomed into paradise.  Watching blood fall from Jesus' brow.

My own emotions; the weight of despair, and the fear and loneliness and confusion.  Would I be letting myself take it all in or would I be sheltering my heart and mind from that atrocities that bore out in front of me.

Would I do it right if I stood there? Would I have done it right? Who would I have been? Where would I have been? What would I have endured or would I have scurried away and not stood with You in those moments?

It was from those moments of contemplation and retreat that I would enter into a week that would hold within its days a surgery on my second oldest son's knee.  All that this week has encompassed.  All that this week has held.

Moments I know that I got it "right." Whatever that really is and moments I know that I wish I could do over.. do better.

Another moment on the evening of the retreat would linger and still does... The first moment created was in regards to the Last Supper. Instead of a foot washing; a basin was brought forth and hands were washed. In those moments as an amazing woman washed my hands with water and  dried them with a white towel, I felt.. I understood.. I was cleansed.. I was made new... No longer at all like Lady Macbeth trying to scrub out spots of guilt. In a moment I felt the reality of being washed. Spirit and water and moments transcended time and guilt and shame washed off flesh and conscience.

Panic and fear scream that there is a "right" way to do any number of things  and an exact path that must be followed.  The world attempts to dictate the same as if our own souls don't push in enough.

So what is the key?  How can I break off the Vulcan death grip and find life and breathe?

The answer came to me as I discussed the concept of embracing silence and quiet with a friend recently.  We were talking about silence and how in a moment granted there was one who felt that they were being dictated to about what to do within that moment and internalized that pressure to" get it right. "

My response was this...

You can't get silence right.  That's its beauty.  Sure, are there monks who can last days sitting in lotus pose in stillness and silence.  Are they getting it right?  If that standard isn't met does that mean the silence we attempt is wrong?  That right/wrong mentality is what has to be excused from our beings.

When I lead a small group of women into small group spiritual direction, I put before them the opportunity to touch a few minutes of silence.  I express to them these things.  If you fall asleep then sleep was what you needed. If you start going through your grocery list as quiet descends, let it happen.. don't fight it off per se but attempt to excuse it from your mind.  If your mind wanders and you find yourself thinking if you are doing silence "right," try and put those thoughts onto a boat and send them down the river not fixating on them but giving them permission to come but then letting them leave.  And if out of 3 minutes or 5 minutes you find yourself within 20 seconds of silence and realize you have had a movement of accepting the silencing of thoughts and noise then again smile, let the thoughts come.. and then let them go... Breath.. Breath deeply and let time and space and breathe and silence and quiet and stillness just be upon your person as much as it can....

Permission... Permission is a major key in granting ourselves an out from the "having to get it right" mentality.  Permission to get it wrong. Permission to accept that maybe "right," and "wrong," might be the wrong words.  What other language can you begin to embrace that is full of grace, freedom and life?

Religious circles can be the worst with this mentality.  I know from which I come... the places where shame and guilt scream that you have done it wrong again and again  for the millionth time.  The quiet and not so quiet million little and not so little deaths you have died trying to please god and man.  The energy that has been expended only to find that death resides inside though the outsides look pretty and appropriate.

"Appropriate" mentalities will exhaust and enslave. Grant yourself permission today... moment by moment, to show up and be and breathe....

One last story and then I will finish...

I arrived early for my therapist appointment.  I sat in my car.  I was listening to music.  My attention was brought to the roof of their office.  This is what I felt that the Lover of my soul spoke into my being in those moments....  "Let me write upon you a different reality/perspective on perfection."  (As I looked at the roof of my therapist's office I saw imperfections in the tiling of the roof.) The words continued to cascade down and over my soul.  "Let me write upon you a new and different reality of perfection.  It is not that which appears perfect. It is that which is perfect.  That is me. I am not of this world.  The world's dictation of perfection can never even ever come close.  Rest in One. Rest in one and it will heal the effects of the other.

Hear these words again... "It is not that which appears perfect. It is that which IS perfect.  Rest in one and it will heal the other."

Be made whole in the love and acceptance and passion and compassion of the One who is Perfection and let that love and beauty cascade down over your soul and cleanse and heal and bring forth new life...

The power of "YES" is transforming my life

It wasn't some large, courageous move.  It wasn't some grandiose religious endeavor. It wasn't some noble altruistic endeavor.  It was what it was. It found its beginning  from a dead end.  It came  to pass when there seemed to be no other way. It was born forth from desperation.

What am I talking about?

The time my "yes," brought forth an immense healing for my soul.  A time when I touched what the power of "yes," could be, and it changed my life.  More recent times would deposit further and richer lessons.

So on this Good Friday, when an ultimate, "Not my will," was spoken; on a day, when Christ having equality with God would not consider that equality something to be grasped but laid down His life is celebrated, I remember.

I remember where I stood.  I remember details that encompassed the room.  The echos of the words that had been spoken were ringing in my ears. Those are words I will never forget.

"Two to five years to really gain some consistent functionality and then we still don't really promise what that will look like." The year was 2003, the words were being spoken by Christian therapists, and the subject was me.  In my old blog, Walking The Passage, I wrote about the stories of my life in more depth, the affects of mental illness upon a person and those that love them, and the journey of touching the song of the stars and finding healing. But for now that which got that process rolling over a decade ago was my response to that declaration of "two to five years."

My faith had me believing in a God that hears, listens and acts.  Believing I was not alone in the universe; standing confidently in the fact that a Creator had known me from before the foundations of the earth were laid and that he knits and reknits humanity together, I went before the Lord.

My prayer/words consisted of statements that expressed the fact that I didn't feel I had 2-5 years, I wanted a life, so much had been taken from my life already and I wanted something different.  Then came the words, "I lay a yes before you... act, move upon my life.. not my will.. yours be done.. but do something."  The next nine months were full of those "somethings."  Counseling, dedicated family, friends, and pastors, and a relentless force of the Spirit of light and love and truth moving upon my soul.

In that season it wouldn't be 2-5 years; in that season through movements that found their origin in the heart of God I was recreated further into His image.

Many a "yes," had been spoken by me prior and others have been spoken since but that "yes," those prayers will always have a special place in my heart.  Now before anyone thinks it is some sort of formula for healing from mental illness that me stop the creation of formulas.  It wasn't. It isn't.  It was the catching of the song of the One who loves me well and listening to it's heart beat.

"Yes," has powerful vibrations.  Who doesn't want to hear an affirmative answer when the question or presented possibility is something wanted?  However, "yes," has complicated and potent ramifications and to understand those empowers us, as humanity, to interact with it more effectively.

More recently, actually in one hundred days that ended on January 28, 2015, I had set aside another season to daily present my will and my yes before that which I recognize as God.  The journey would contain within it some truly profound moments.  One of the most unexpected ones came around the days that would fill out the 70s.  Three quarters into my journey I began to feel that my "yes," wasn't wanted any longer.  I was confused.  Three quarters into my journey I felt extreme resistance to me laying down my will and giving a blanket "yes," to the Lover of my soul.   Those moments would rivet me into places unknown to me prior to there movements and teach me lessons that altered the way I think upon many things.

My Lord didn't want my "yes." He wanted something so much more.  He wanted me.  This isn't splitting hairs or even a series of plain nuances.  Isn't my "yes," me?  It went so much deeper than that.

He isn't looking to control me.  He isn't looking to dictate my ways.  He isn't looking to domineer me.  When Creator acted upon void forming out humanity what reverberated within that majestic heart was freedom.  Free will.  To create a creature in like form that would be the walking image of Creator. Even in the Christ in one of the most potent moments of history spoke from that place of freedom of choice, free will. 

 I don't want to dictate and command love or performance from my children.  I want their hearts to want to want to love me and be in relationship with me and act in ways that strengthen and grow that relationship.  I want them to know my heart and passion for them is for freedom. Freedom that they be who it is they are and that as I help them in their early years to find that what I am really doing is empowering them towards maturity and adulthood.

It is my deepest desire that my children learn and grow to understand that who they are is enough.  That they learn to say "yes," to themselves and who that is and who they discover that to be in different stages of their lives.  In so doing they learn that their "yeses" have power and weight.  In so doing my hope is that they learn that others will always have ideas of who they should or shouldn't be but that in their hearts and with those that love them they are empowered to discover what their "yes" is and isn't and live accordingly.

In the winter of 2015, my eyes were more fully open to the power of my choice and my "yes," and the magnificent reality that it matters to the Highest Power.  What was desired wasn't my blanket "yes," "your will be done."  It was when it was turned around and asked of me what was my will?  What did I want?  What did my "yes," look like?  What was my desire?

To follow a lover without question,while advantageous to some theoretically, wouldn't be desirable from those that are healthy people.  Neither is it so with God.  "Yes;" is a partnership, a discovery, a beautiful form of mutuality where incredible things happen and unimaginable things take place.  It is walking in the cool of the night, holding hands and breathing in the fresh heavenly dew.. realizing that the power of "yes," resides in the meeting of hearts more than any other place.

Yes, I see you.
Yes, You matter.
Yes, I want you.
Yes, I hear you.
Yes, I will listen.
Yes, I will be.
Yes, I will care.
Yes, I will hold.
Yes, I will show up.

"Yes," isn't about a formula or some magic genie.  It is a journey of realizing when the "nos," are actually the most beautiful "yeses," and the "yeses," are invitational to deeper and fuller passions and life.

I am learning so very much about Spirit and truth in these days, about the intrinsic heart beat of the ways that God operates and moves upon Creation and humanity.  There is always honor, beauty, love and passion.. kindness, patience, generosity.  Breathe and life and sound and vibration culminate in such wondrous and awe inspiring movement that affects incredible change.  To say "yes," to that is my heart's desire. The heart's desire of the Lord is that it isn't a blanket "yes," but a full and mindful and intentional and purposeful "yes." One that risks and conveys want and desire, humility, and preference not  to defy but also not to be enslaved.

The desire is for sons and daughters not slaves.

Explore "yes," with me....

Spend time holding out what does it mean between you and God?  Where are there fears, doubts?  Where is there expectation? What does that look like?  Discover the beauty and intricacy  and power of agreement.  It isn't a slave or a servant saying yes to a task being asked by a master or boss.  It is more like a lover asking permission and desiring mutual pleasure.  That is what a "yes," relationship with our God can be like.  Enjoy!