Descansos

Tonight I did something strange.

A few months ago I listened to a book called, "Women Who Run with the Wolves" by Clarissa Pinkola Estes. Toward the end of the book, she introduces the idea of "Descansos." 

Descansos is the practice of marking a place where someone's journey in life had been halted. Often these crosses mark a place a person has died. Descansos, however, need not be limited to physical death, but can also mark places where we experienced a closed door, the end of a journey, or any type of loss. Estes says, "Descansos is where you take a look at your life and you see where the small deaths and the big deaths have been and you mark them with a cross." She says that regardless of what kind of trauma/loss a person has experienced, "something has to happen to recognize it, to bless it, to contain it and to leave it." We must physically do something to acknowledge the pain/death so that we can move past the pain/death.

Descansos are "resting places for the parts of you that were on their way to somewhere but never arrived. They mark the death site. They're markers of your dark time, but they're also love notes to your suffering."

Descansos are transformative.

The month of July has been a month of grieving. I've given myself space to be angry, frustrated, disappointed, sad, discouraged, hurt - and every emotion in between. I'm no where near recovered, but I've participated with the Spirit in deep, soul-work as I've dug in the soil of my garden and am slowly experiencing more peace. Today, as I was praying, God reminded me that today is the last day of July - tomorrow the calendar is flipped. 

I read "Women Who Run with the Wolves" back in April and have since been considering parts of my spirit that never grieved from the last church I left and are hurting with grief once again in my most recent departure. I remember I had two weeks of "rest" (a.k.a. chaos and detachment!) between my last two jobs - certainly no time to grieve or process anything. 

Something about the changing of the calendar and witnesses the setting sun illuminated in the clouds, hope was sparked in my heart and I thought, "Perhaps this is the evening to practice Descansos." 

I drove out to Shaw & McCall and placed my descansos - marking my journey that was abruptly halted. I sat in the weeds watching the sunset considering how different my life is today than it was five-and-a-half years ago. The bits of hurt and loss that still linger, I left on the side of the road, on my descansos.

Then I drove across town to Fresno & Bullard to place my second descansos - recognizing my time there: blessing it, containing it, and then leaving it, along with the many emotions I have been carrying. 

As I prepare for sleep tonight, I already feel lighter.

Perhaps acknowledging our pain releases our souls from captivity.

I pray that my anger, frustration, sadness, and grief will stay pinned to the cross at the places I left it. I imagine those grief waves, and other emotional currents, will overtake me here-and-there. But I pray that by God's grace, lovingkindness, and compassion (which are new every morning) I can close this chapter and begin walking into a new month guided and strengthened by the Spirit.

May God continue to make all things new bringing healing and wholeness to each of us.

Adrift ~ How is it with your soul?

*** Written July 11, 2023 ***

In Retreat 1, Session 3 of Transforming Community Ruth Haley Barton taught on the question, "How is it with your soul?"

The minute she asked the question, technically, the minute I read the title for the session, I rolled my eyes. This particular question has been asked of me nearly every month over the past two years to which I had successfully brushed it aside.

Looking back, I believe the person asking the question meant well, but I also think he was ill equip with both resources and time to listen to my honest answer. Perhaps that's why I avoided the question and did not answer, knowing deep down that my soul was not well, but also knowing he did not have the time and energy to know how to help. If I answered the question honestly, would I receive the care and support I needed or would I be marked as a used-good; a soul sucked dry from attending to too many needs of others and being on-the-run for too long? Instead of being honest, I kept my lips sealed and continued to love and serve the people in my care, despite the state of my inner-soul.

Over the last few quiet weeks, I've come back to this question and been pondering why I chose to not be forthright in my response to the question.

Was it because my deep-seeded message "I am not enough" overwhelmed me to the point I was afraid to admit my brokenness and find confirmation that I am "not enough?" Perhaps.

Was it because I didn't want to exude any sign of weakness? Perhaps. I've worked in church-circles in which pastors and staff treat one another like ravenous sharks. Any sign of blood in the water and they become savage and rip apart the one who is bleeding. I learned to show no weakness - no tears, no emotion, no humanity.

Those reasons alone are legitimate enough to not answer the question truthfully. But the more I've sat with my wondering, the more I've decided my hesitation went even deeper. 

If I answered the question honestly, I might be asked to leave. 

Rejection. There it was. 

Strangely enough, I currently feel very much adrift in the ocean, cut off from community. Since my community did not accurately know the deadening of my soul, they threw a party and sent me away to "whatever is next." Instead of walking with me, I feel like my church community put me out on a dingy, and sent me off alone to find my own healing and "rest." 

Feels a bit like rejection - loving rejection. 

They did not know I have not the strength to row nor the stamina to make it to shore.

They did not know the state of my soul was more weary than even I had imagined.

So...I drift...being at the mercy of the waves and the storms on the horizon.

I am certain they would be saddened to know this is how I am feeling. 

But for now, I continue to drift, seeking connection with the One who loves me beyond what I can do or what I can give. I am tired of going through the motions and pretending like all is well. I am disappointed with churches who do not attend to the well-being of their pastors and staff. I am sad for the many, many pastors who have gone before me and did not have adequate care in place to help her/him through this season to reconnect with their First Love, find refreshment and new-life for their souls in Christ, and establish healthy rhythms of spiritual practices, rest, and community. I'm disheartened for the many current pastors and staff who are weary, feel deprived-in-soul, and who are on the brink of throwing in the towel. We need to do better! We need to know how to guide our shepherds and care for those who care for us. Might I have received this kind of care had I been honest, I will never know. Drifting alone is now my life. The good news is I cannot run or be busy - just be still, be quiet, and move just enough to not let the boat tip. 

In Ruth's lecture, she includes specific questions to reflect upon and help assess the state of our soul. These questions give more handles on the ambiguous question, 'how is it with your soul?' and provides concrete ways to measure the state of our soul. Perhaps if the general question had been fleshed out with follow-up questions and examples I may have had an easier time talking this through.

I am grateful to be attending the Transforming Community, giving me resources, care, and support in my journey of soulful recovery. I am reading, listening, reflecting, and though I know this time of quiet and solitude is necessary, I can't help feeling like I am missing a limb - my community. I know this season is what I need for my own healing, but I still miss feeling like I have people who are "my people." My blog-writing and cups of coffee with friends will have to do for now.

As my floating continues and I gently follow the current to where the Spirit is guiding, I am a mix of sadness and anticipation. Sadness at what has been lost, but anticipating what is yet to be found. Thankfully, God is a God who is at work to redeem and restore.

I know God is with me on my raft and I know, once again, the Church did not mean to hurt me. They just didn't know what was happening within me. Thankfully, God did and already had me enrolled in the Transforming Community to keep my raft from floating too far away.

May you be encouraged that you are not alone, no matter how lonely you feel. If you're like me and on a singular raft floating away from your ship or if you're on a larger ship surrounded by people yet still feeling alone, may you hear the words of the Spirit speaking to you that you are loved and you are seen. You are not alone.

"Where can I go from Your Spirit? Where can I flee from Your Presence? 

If I go up to the heavens, You are there;

if I make my bed in the depths, You are there.

If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea,

even there Your hand will guide me, Your right hand will hold me fast." 

Psalm 139: 7-10

Thanks be to God, 

    for God's constant Presence, 

        long-lasting lovingkindness, 

            and enduring faithfulness.

                Selah

                    My floating continues...

The Filing Cabinet

** Written May 23, 2023 **

As I began the work of emptying my office in preparation for my departure at North Fresno Church, I encountered my filing cabinet.

If you're a filing cabinet fan like me then you might have a favorite kind of cabinet. Filing cabinets come in all sorts of sizes (standard file-size, legal file-size, etc...) and shapes (2-drawers, 5-drawers, etc...). Newer filing cabinets have with low walls - these annoyingly cheapened version of file cabinets force the organized genius to have to purchase metal rack inserts to actually hold documents (perhaps one day I'll figure out the purpose of filing cabinets that do not hold files). Some cabinets are metal and some are wood.

The filing cabinet in my office (in this picture) is lovely. Four clean drawers, each drawer with high walls so no need for cheap metal racks. File folders fit nicely in hanging racks that smoothly push back and forth on the tracks. My nerd friends out there can hear the smooth sound of hanging files being drawn over and back against the tracks. 

This particular filing cabinet has been my companion across three different churches, each church filling a different drawer. Currently, NFC Children's Ministry and Mennonite Brethren Conference documents fill the top two drawers. After some sorting and tossing, my 5+ years here will easily fit within one drawer - especially since I use my digital space well and no longer store as much in my fabulous filing cabinet.

In my packing I was saddened to recognize that I have been so busy with the top two drawers, I have not opened the bottom two drawers for a long time. 

What are in the two bottom drawers?

The secret is safe with me, but suffice to say the ministry I have done at NFC was only half of what I could have brought to this place. 

"Yes, yes," the critics say, "I was not hired to do my other two drawers." 

True - kind of. 

I leave knowing I utilized my skills, experience, gifts and talents within this specific ministry well. 

But if this filing cabinet represents me, then I am also forced to grieve the half of myself that has stayed closed for five-years. 

Have I done my due-diligence and performed my job well, as a true soldier should? Yes. But to what avail - to have only half of me being developed and growing? I reflect on my previous church of 13-years of ministry and know that similarly, though I dipped into more files than at NFC, I also did not bring my whole self to that place. One drawer remained closed.

Is the problem with me in not having the courage to open and display all of me - all four drawers?

Or is the problem with the Church in designing job descriptions that are too small for my four drawers?

I am forced to wonder if there is a place for all of me - all four drawers. Is there a community where a whole Connie can flourish?

No answers needed. I was simply struck by my closed drawers and delighted to find old friends inside.

May God continue reviving parts of me that have been asleep too long. It is time to wake up.

Tending the Garden to Thrive

Nothing tastes like spring so much as fresh strawberries for breakfast each morning. Though the heat is bringing my strawberry season to an end, I continue to consider lessons from my garden.

Today I noticed that my harvest contained berries of various sizes. One berry in particular had grown to an incredible size, compared to my standard, hormone-free, backyard strawberries.

As I brought the berries inside to be washed and cut into my bowl I reflected on why the same plants receiving the same care would produce such different fruit.

As the one who waters the plants daily, I can attest that each plant receives the same amount of water. 

As the one who prunes the plants, I can attest that each plant receives the same pruning.

As the one who adds compost to the roots of the plants, I can attest that each plant receives the same amount of compost. 

With those variables set aside, I must consider what other factors are going on that I do not see. What other systems are at play in producing this enormous berry compared to the smaller berries? What is happening under the soil that I may not see without deeper investigation?

What are the factors that have caused this berry to grow and thrive?

Perhaps my soil is not level so the water runs to one side of my container more than another.

Perhaps in spreading my compost, this one plant received the lion's share of it without me being aware. Or maybe my compost was not mixed in such a way to spread out all the nutrients available.

Perhaps its an issue of placement. One plant was simply planted in a better position than the others. 

Perhaps as I dig out older plants and replace them with younger plants I have not paid attention to strawberry varieties.

Perhaps this plant is a newer plant that has seen far fewer 100+ temperature summer days than the berry plants surrounding it.

They are all strawberry plants, so they should all thrive equally, but instead, they produce different sized berries.

I was not being intentional in setting one plant up against another, but as the keeper of my garden, it is my job, now that I see the discrepancy, to make some adjustments and rearrange some plants and soil. As the gardener, part of my watering mornings are looking at how plants are growing and the fruit they are producing and then to work backward to isolate, identify and change my planter box in the hope that all my plants can thrive and have a chance to produce lovely, large berries.

Whether in my garden, in life, or in ministry, this analogy holds true. Once we see a discrepancy, let's do some digging and figure out how to help all reach their potential.

Our Belovedness Tested

Christians are in the beginning week of Lent, the Church tradition of walking with Jesus for the 40-days leading up to Easter (not including Sundays).

The lectionary this year began the first Sunday of Lent with Jesus' temptation in the wilderness as found in Matthew 4:1-11.

Many churches across the world opened our Bibles on Sunday to Matthew 4 and jumped straight into the text of Jesus fasting in the wilderness for 40-days and then being tempted by the Devil. 

In my freshman year of college, I took a course through the Gospel of Matthew from Dr. Edmund Janzen. We read through Matthew chronologically, spending significant time with each story as they built on each other. I remember Dr. Janzen teaching through Matthew 4 showing the three temptations Jesus had to overcome: economic, religious and political. What so few church attenders realize (especially since we so often read the Sunday text on the screen instead of the scripture in our hands) is how the story of Jesus is building story-by-story. Only after Dr. Janzen spent significant time in Matthew 3 (and probably a test too!) did he proceed to Jesus' temptation in the wilderness in chapter 4. I imagine most pastors framed their Sunday sermon within verses of 1-11 without acknowledging one important word, "Then." 

In every translation, Matthew 4:1 begins with "then." 

"Then" is not a preposition providing a nice transition into a new story but a linking adverb, linking the moving parts of the previous story with the new one being told - helping the story of Jesus build.

What story came before Jesus' Temptation? 

Jesus' Baptism.

Most people refer to Matthew 4 as a time of Jesus being tested, but what was it he was tested on?

It wouldn't make sense to be given a test on material you hadn't yet learned. So we have to use the "then" linking adverb and look back a chapter to see what Jesus had just learned that the Tempter is testing him on.

Matthew 3:16-17 reads, "And after being baptized, Jesus went up immediately from the water; and behold, the heavens were opened, and he saw the Spirit of God descending as a dove, and coming upon Him, and behold, a voice out of the heavens saying, 'This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well-pleased.'" 

The three take-aways Jesus learned at His baptism were:

1. He is God's Son

2. He is Loved

3. God, His Father, is well-pleased with Him

Jesus' baptism is central to His story because until He believes these truths, until He is confident with whose He is and who He is, He will not be successful at bringing God's Kingdom on earth.

In the desert, the Devil was testing to see if Jesus trusts that he is indeed God's Beloved. The three lessons Jesus learned at His baptism could be applied to His three temptations in the wilderness.

Will Jesus trust in the goodness of God when He is hungry and is lacking basic needs? (4:3-4) Jesus is confident He is God's Son and that God would provide for His needs.

Will Jesus follow the Way of His Father, the way of love, when the way of the world has seeped into religion and is scheming with power, manipulation, and abuse? (4:5-7) Jesus is confident that He is loved even when religion tells Him He is not enough and manipulates laws to bait and trap Him.

Will He trust to follow His Father in the way of sacrifice when politics are against Him and the kingdoms of this earth threaten Him with glory and power? (4:8-10) Jesus is confident that His Father is pleased with Him so He has no need to seek glory or power.

As I consider my own life and the temptations I face, I am struck at realizing how often I disregard the truth of being God's Beloved Daughter, the core identity so foundation to Jesus' life and ministry. I so frequently hear the lies that I'm not enough and not wanted that the contrary and truthful voice of Jesus has a hard time getting through the onslaught of lying voices. I can't even begin to settle into the God-being-pleased with me part of Jesus' baptism because I still haven't wholly and completely believed I am God's Beloved Daughter. Lord, in Your mercy, hear my prayers. I'm sure I'm not the only one.

Oh, I know I'm loved intellectually, but...

    ...do my actions reflect that belief? 
    ...does my self-talk reflect that belief?
    ...do I have courage to live in a way that shows the world that belief?

On Sunday our pastor encouraged us to follow the way of Jesus in the wilderness by combatting the lies of the Devil with truths from the Scriptures. The verse I commit to memorizing deep in my heart is the voice of the Father to Jesus, "This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well-pleased." I'll change the 'son' to daughter, and then speak this breath-prayer as a form of retaliation against the aggressive voices seeking to diminish and dispose of me.

As the powers of this world continue to attempt to silence our uniqueness as God's creation and erase our belovedness let us lean into the truth that Jesus modeled and invites us into: the truth of our belovedness and trusting that God is pleased with us. 

Perhaps all those years ago my professor was right that the desert temptations are indeed economic, religious and political but before we can battle the powers of this world, we must answer the deeper questions of if we believe we are God's beloved and if we believe that God is pleased with us. Only after we are anchored in our identity in Christ can we trust and follow in the way of our Savior in the face of the powers of our world.

Can This Dust Live?

 My 2023 reflection on Ash Wednesday:

Though I was not raised in a Catholic or Orthodox tradition, I have always been fascinated by the mysteries of God uncovered by women and men who create spiritual rhythms (even seasons like Lent and Advent) to help us step into these mysteries by giving us handles to guide us along the way. 

Most guides I have read and experienced emphasize this idea of dust and connect Ash Wednesday to Genesis 3:19 speaking the words, "For you are dust and to dust you shall return." (NASB) 

Every living organism, be that human, animal, or plant is made up of earthly matter - matter which has its origin on earth. All living organisms, likewise, return to dust, as the author of Genesis eloquently states at the end of its lifespan.

We live in a closed-ecosystem in which no matter has left. The elements that made our earth billions of years ago are the same elements at work today. Yes, they change shape and purpose, but all the pieces of this place are the same. Similarly, the elements of every human who has ever lived, from the small miscarried baby to a dying 100-year-old, is still present on earth. 

When I ponder the significance of dust and ashes on Ash Wednesday, I can't help consider the magnitude and importance of our closed-system and wonder how this concept connects with the story of Jesus. 

During most Ash Wednesday services, participants are invited to receive the imposition of ashes - a time when ashes are wiped on a person's forehead or hand in the form of a cross accompanied by the words from Genesis, "For you are dust and to dust you shall return." In a very tangible way, this sign of the cross on our foreheads is an acknowledgement of our humanity and finitude. We all will again be dust. 

Five years ago I was given the gift to bestow the ashes for the first time. As a recipient, what we hear is the reminder that we will again return to dust - not necessarily words of comfort. But as the giver of the ashes, what I see is the cross. 

The Good News of Ash Wednesday is not in the ashes, but is in the sign of the cross.

These 'words of comfort' we so readily speak over people on Ash Wednesday are dooms-dayish and might possibly leave the participant hopeless and discouraged if separated from the work of Jesus. Our Ash Wednesday observances must be experienced through the cross.

Oftentimes, creative pastors (like myself) enjoy guiding people into these dark spaces of reflection to best feel and identify with our frailty and brokenness. Especially in contexts where the dark, hard, and ugly things of life are swept under the carpet, intentionally stepping into these spaces is good.

But what about people who live surrounded by darkness?

What about people who already feel hopeless?

What about people who are discouraged and don't have much hope for tomorrow?

How do our Ash Wednesday Services help these people? 

Our creativity to step into these dark places can be crippling to people already in the dark. I know we creative-types often enjoy the dark and the strong emotions those places bring, but we also need to be aware of the people we bring into these places and be sure to guide them back out - not leave them in darkness for 40-days. 

40-days is the time Jesus spent in the wilderness fasting and praying.

40-days is the time between Ash Wednesday and Easter (not including Sabbath/Sundays). 

But 40-days is a long time in the dark. 

As I reflected on the tension I was feeling between Ash Wednesday being a melancholy tradition and our hope found in Jesus Christ, the Spirit brought my attention to Ezekiel 37. In this text, the Spirit of God brings the prophet Ezekiel out into the desert and shows him a valley of dry bones. The Spirit asks Ezekiel the question, "Son of man, can these bones live?"

Being smarter than us 21st-Century theologians, the wise Ezekiel answers, "Sovereign Lord, you alone know." 

Within the next verses that transpire, the Spirit of God lifts these bones and ashes up from the ground. The Spirit attaches sinews, tendons, and muscle; covers the bodies with flesh and skin before finally breathing life into this giant army. 

Jesus also died. Jesus let go of His Spirit on the cross and succumbed to the curse of death that all of us will one day confront. Jesus' body was laid in a tomb to endure the slow decomposing into dust - but something tremendously different and wonderful occurred.

Just like the army of bones Ezekiel saw in the Old Testament, Jesus also experienced the breath of God breathing life back into his bones.

The Spirit of God used Jesus' material matter of this earth and recycled him into a New Creation. One that looked like a gardener with fresh dirt under his fingernails; recognizably Jesus one minute and unidentifiable the next. The tomb was empty because resurrection uses up our earthly matter to transform us into a New Creation in Jesus Christ.

As I reflect on identifying with my humanity and the ashes to which I will one day return, I also must connect the hope I have in the resurrection and New Creation found with the salvific work of Jesus as part of my narrative. Celebrating Ash Wednesday, separated from the cross, is hopeless. Honoring Ash Wednesday as a way to lean into our humanity with the comfort of the Cross tempers our fear of tomorrow and gives us a grounding hope that returning to ash will not be the end of our story just as it was not the ending story of Jesus. 

As you may have received ashes yesterday, please remember the hope of the resurrection we have in Christ Jesus. Let's remember to enter the barrenness and darkness of the desert with Jesus as our guide.

From dust we shall indeed return - but that is not the end of our story anchored in Jesus.

 

The Power Behind the Hook

Have you ever watched a fish wriggle and flip when it's pulled out of water? 

Swimming along, the fish eats something that looks and smells like food.

The fish continues swimming only to be yanked backward and discover it is caught; the delicious morsel was not food, but bait. 

The tug of the fishermen fastens the ingested metal hook deep into its body cavity. The fish cannot be freed on its own.

The fish fights against the pulling of the fisherman as it attempts to swim away. 

But the more it fights, the more imbedded the hook penetrates and anchors itself.

The more it wriggles and flips, the more of a prisoner it becomes.

Is the fish acting aggressively? Yes.

Might the fish hurt the fisherman in their anxious attempt to breathe? Yes.

Is the fish suffocating? Yes.

Notice who is calm in this story? 

The fisherman. The person with the hook - the person with power.

Who looks out-of-control in this story? The fish. The one with the hook in it's mouth.

Perhaps we need discernment to not discount the fish trying to breathe, but to also notice the person in the calm of the boat holding the power of the hook.