Lessons From the Desert – Part 3

My time in the desert is winding down. To be honest, I have mixed emotions about leaving this time of silence and stillness. This retreat with Jesus into a place of simplicity and quiet for Lent hasn’t been easy. You would think it would be calming and restful, and it was, sometimes. All this down time, gave my overactive brain the freedom to go into overdrive. Pulling back on social commitments and freeing up my time for silence and listening, fed my soul. It became my friend. But there were also times, when that extra time and space became my enemy. Left unattended, my mind can quickly shift from a place of peace and goodness to a minefield of worry, anxiety, and anger. In the quiet of the desert Jesus wanted to teach me to focus on His ever-present love which manifests as grace. He wanted me to realize that this grace is the fuel I need to live and love as I should. In the silence Jesus was trying, once again, to teach me about how to live and love abundantly. And that starts with learning how to discipline my mind to stay focused on who is really in charge and to humble myself. He provided me, as He always does, with the grace to do what He was trying to teach me. When I remembered that store of grace that is always available, and I accepted it for what it really was, God’s eternally present love, I could live and love abundantly. My desert time became a source of calm and rest and good.  But when I forgot about that grace and God’s persistent presence and love and let my brain go into its default mode, the desert became a source of anxiety and restlessness. Jesus let me experience these ups and downs for the last five weeks. Then during a sleepless night last week, I was given a gift. The gift came in the form of the words in the refrain of an old Beatles’ song.  The words “let it be” popped into my head as I was praying, and has been my mantra ever since. When I find myself defaulting away from the peace that God’s grace provides me and getting caught up in old thought patterns that result in anger or anxiety, I repeat the refrain of that song. I substitute words to fit the situation. Sometimes I say “Let...

Lessons From the Desert – Part 2

As I chronical my journey in the desert this Lent, our daughter and her family are literally in the desert. They are in Arizona on Spring Break. My daughter had never experienced the desert landscape and climate before. One of her first texts to me after they arrived described how comfortable the air was with no wind or moisture. “It’s just like nothingness,” were her exact words. It’s in that silence and nothingness that I have learned a few more lessons I want to share with you. First of all, I am finding that inviting Jesus to journey with me this Lent, instead of doing Lent on my own, has really been eye-opening. In the past I would look at this time leading up to Easter as a time for sacrifice and solemnity. It seemed like a lot of work. It was work figuring out what I was going to give up or what I was going to change to honor the sacrifice Jesus made for me. It was work to stick to my decisions on how I was going to spend these weeks. And it was disheartening when I would fail to keep up my resolutions. All of this work was done on my own. This year, I envision doing this work of Lent with Jesus and it has made a big difference. I continually ask Him what it is I should be doing or changing, and how to stick to it. In the nothingness of the desert, I listen for the answers and I feel the help. I don’t feel discouraged and I don’t feel alone. This week, what I have heard loud and clear in the nothingness of the desert from my companion, is the importance of staying in the moment. Another really, really important lesson for me this Lent. We hear a lot about the benefits of mindfulness and the importance of living in the moment. We’ve heard it over and over, but how good are we at it? It takes such discipline. The present moment is where we find God. Dwelling on the past only brings resentment and regret. Dwelling on the future only brings worry and anxiety. In his classic book, The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis points out that one of the most powerful weapons of the devil is to keep humans focused on the past or the future and away from the present moment. It’s the most powerful way...

Lessons from the Desert – Part 1

Last week I told you that I was going to spend what is left of this Lenten season in the desert with Jesus. I felt a pull to do that. I have learned quite a bit already and I want to share my lessons with you. The very first thing that became glaringly apparent was the need for silence. A silence of my thoughts, a silence of my imaginings, a silence of my plans, and even a silence of my voice. I became quiet to the point of having people who know me well text me and ask if I was alright because I was so quiet during a zoom session. Being silent doesn’t mean not speaking up when the situation warrants it or becoming a divine wallflower. The silence I’m learning is of a different sort. It’s a silencing of all that makes it virtually impossible to know the life intended for us. I learned that to be silent requires discipline. It involves breaking old habits and possibly appearing different and out of character. None of this is easy, but the payoff is so worth it. Because real treasures lie in the silence. If we can get out of our heads and set aside our egos by spending more time in silence, powerful things happen. If our default mode is silence, rather than mindless chatter or self-aggrandizing posturing, we become more aware of and open to the treasures that God provides for us in the people, places, and situations He orchestrates into our lives. With a habit of silence, we listen more fully to others, we cultivate a deeper gratitude for the blessings in our lives, and we experience transforming joy. That was the second lesson I learned in the desert. The desert isn’t all dry bones and tumbleweed. Even in the desert times we are given moments of sheer joy. What a surprise that was. For me the joy came in the form of a leprechaun. I make an annual visit to my daughter-in-law’s K5 class on St. Patrick’s Day donned in my very finest leprechaun attire. This year I visited in the morning when the younger classes were on the playground. On my way into the building, I was mobbed by a joyful crowd of little ones who wanted to chase me, hug me, and share with me all kinds of random information. Stories about the “stuffies” they have at home (I imagine that’s a...

A Trip To The Desert

I’m writing to you today from the desert. No, I’m not in Arizona or Palm Springs on a spring break trip. I am physically in my natural habitat but spiritually I have left home. The theme at my church this Lent is Walking with Christ in the Desert. We are being encouraged to head into the wilderness with Jesus, a guide who not only knows the terrain inside and out, but knows us inside and out. A guide who wants nothing more than to help us learn and grow and change. A guide who, from personal experience, knows the desert is the best place to do that. Many times, in scripture we hear that Jesus goes off to a quiet place when he needs to connect with the Father. He needs that desert time. It was in one of those desert times that he was most tempted by the devil, and withstood temptation because of his dependence on and connection with God. To grow this Lent, in our connection with God, we need that same time in the desert.  It’s where we need to go for true transformation. The transformation occurs because in the desert there is quiet. Real silence and solitude can be found there. It’s a space where our minds can escape from the constant barrage of noise and begin to hear the still, small voice that is God’s calling card. The transformation occurs when we allow ourselves to listen to that voice. The still, small voice of God often whispers truths to us about ourselves that can cause discomfort. Truths we don’t like to admit, but truths we know keep us from being the best version of ourselves. We can have a break through, a healing, if we can stay open to those truths, ask for help in the discomfort, and not let the discomfort cause us to run out of the desert and back to the noise. Transformation occurs when we can stay in the desert until we are healed. However long that might take. We can’t rush the process. If we are patient and want it bad enough, the change will occur, and along with it, great joy. I started Lent with good intentions and have already succumbed to the wily ways of the world, which is exactly why I have made a new Lenten resolve, a few weeks in, to head into the desert. I think I will have better luck...

A New Bent on Lent

This coming Wednesday is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of the 68th Lenten season of my life. Actually, it’s more like about the 60th Lenten season if you count from when I really knew what Lent was. Over the years, I have “given up” many different things for Lent. There was the classic sweets, soda, and snacks in my earlier years. As I got older and more creative, I gave up things like listening to the radio when I was driving.  One year, I gave up mascara and endured inquiries from people as to the state of my health. I’d get a lot of “Are you ok, you look tired.” Or “Are you sick?” Come Easter morning, when I could once again pull out the Maybelline wand, I resembled Tammy Faye Baker. I couldn’t get enough. Now, when I ponder just how I want to make these weeks of Lent more meaningful, I tend to gravitate more to what I can DO and not what I can give up. I ask myself what habit, what way of thinking or acting would be difficult for me to change but really doesn’t serve me or anyone around me well. What keeps me from living, loving and being the person God wants me to be. The person I was born and gifted to be. If I can sacrifice my old ways and practice a new way during Lent, maybe the new way will become a habit. They say it takes 21 days to form a new habit. That gives me plenty of time. This year, I have discerned that I need to work on what comes out of my mouth. Which means I need to work on storing up goodness in my heart because according to the Gospel of Luke,”A good person brings good things out of the good stored up in their heart, and an evil person brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.”    (Luke 6:45) If we want our words to be gentle, encouraging, edifying and kind they need to come from a heart full of goodness. How do we build the store of goodness in our hearts? I think it starts with recognizing the goodness around us every day. Look at the world through a lens of awe and gratitude. Store those moments of raw goodness not only in your...

A Visit to Nazareth

I’m always looking for new and creative ways to meditate, especially at this time in my prayer life when I seem to get stuck in old, familiar practices that don’t necessarily take me deeper into a space of real connection with God. I stumbled across a podcast yesterday that gave me just what I was looking for. The most recent episode of the Abiding Together podcast was “Journey to Nazareth.” In it, the hosts shared their experiences of “traveling” to Nazareth to visit Mary, Joseph, and Jesus during their time of meditation. So, I tried it and I want to go back. The idea behind this somewhat odd journey is to join the Holy Family, our family, in the simplicity and ordinary holiness of home. In the podcast they talk about the redeeming power of ordinary life and remind us that hope can be found, along with restoration and true transformation, in the graces available in ordinary life. True healing can happen from a visit to this home. The healing comes as we are reminded of the sacredness of our ordinary lives, and are strengthened in our resolve not to let societal pressure and the ensuing negative self-talk convince us otherwise. One of the hosts mentioned that when she travels to Nazareth, she pictures Jesus at different ages or sometimes brings others with her. She brings someone she loves or maybe someone she finds hard to love. There are all kinds of creative ways to use this practice to connect with the love and care of God through the simplicity and ordinariness of this family.  When I couldn’t sleep last night, I decided to travel to Nazareth. I pictured the house that Jesus lived in as a child. I walked up to the door and it was already open, so I just walked in and was immediately greeted by Mary and Joseph and Jesus. I pictured Jesus as an adult. Mary asked if I wanted some tea (how did she know I wasn’t a coffee drinker?) and brought me a steaming cup as the four of us sat at a long table. They were so interested in me. I had their undivided attention. I felt seen and heard and understood. I felt so cared for. It really calmed me, and I think I fell asleep because I don’t remember anything else. I guess that was all I needed, for now. So simple. I can’t wait to hit the...

Learning to Lean

I’ve been anxious lately. I’ve learned from the past that these times of anxiety are there to teach me something. If I let them. With this latest bout, I have been trying to just ride out the waves of anxiety instead of fighting them. I find my moments of calm when I recall in the past how God used the anxiety triggers to get my attention and to remind me of my vulnerability and inability to control whatever it is I am insisting on controlling. To remind me that He is in control.  You see, when I sense that some area of my life is teetering on the brink of being out of my control that blanket of anxiety is thrown over me and the struggle begins. Historically, I have ridden out these waves on my own, clinging to God’s promise to be right there with me always. Sometimes, that awareness brings me a deep and lasting peace, but a lot of times it brings me temporary peace, then the struggle continues. The other day, when I was praying and leaning on God’s promises to ride out a wave of anxiety, a thought popped into my head. It was like God was saying, “I have put others in your life to lean on, too. Lean on my presence in them.” For a minute I thought God was handing me over. He had had it with me and needed a break. But I know that isn’t true.  He was encouraging me to swallow my pride and ask for help when I need it from the people in my life that He has gifted me with. The people who carry His light and love within them and are willing and able to help me. He is calling me to lean on them. But then I have to admit the silly things that make me anxious. I have to risk appearing childish and vulnerable. I have to reach that heroic humility I talked about last week that allows us to admit we need help. In the classic Bill Withers song, “Lean on Me,” one of the verses goes: Please swallow your pride If I have things you need to borrow. For no one can fill those of your needs That you won’t let show. How easy is it for you to let your needs show? Especially the not so obvious needs. The needs that are unique to the way God made you,...

Selfless Love

About the same time that I was trying to figure out what I could work on in the new year to improve myself, I came across an advertisement for The Other Journal- A Retreat to Grow in Selfless Love. The words “selfless love” really resonated with me so I ordered the journal and have been working with it very slowly over the last month or so. I have often struggled with the concept of selfless love. I have tried at various times in my life to be better at it only to fail, except where my children are concerned. I feel good about my ability to love my children selflessly. That’s what having children is all about. From the minute you realize you are pregnant, the selflessness kicks in. You can only think of the safety and wellbeing of that child. You sacrifice sleep, happy hours, and deli meats for nine months out of selfless love. And that’s just the beginning of the sacrifices you gladly make out of an insane love for your children. I do give myself a decent grade in selflessly loving my children. I think I do ok there. It's everybody else that I struggle with. There doesn’t seem to be any strings attached to the love I have for my children. Often, there are deep hidden strings attached to the love I give to others. That is how I know it’s not selfless love. There are no strings attached to selfless love. It’s just love for the sake of loving. That’s what makes it so hard. Selfless love loves without reward or return. Selfless love leaves the ego behind and blossoms from a heart of deep humility. Eight of the chapters in The Other Journal focus on humility. One is even entitled “Heroic Humility.” It takes an act of heroism to humble ourselves fully enough to put others first and keep our pride at bay. It requires becoming small and that’s big. Throughout the journal, the reader is encouraged to visit the Litany of Humility that is printed in the back of the book. It’s is a prayer attributed to Rafael Cardinal Merry Del Val who died in 1930. It is by far the hardest prayer for me to say and really mean. It’s a litany, or long list, of requests the pray-er is asking of Jesus. Things like: From the desire to be loved – Deliver me, Jesus From the desire of being...

My New Little Messenger

This blog is going to be short and to the point because I have other, more pressing, obligations to attend to. Like rocking, smelling, and listening to our new granddaughter who was born yesterday. I think cradling a newborn is the closest we come to God, this side of heaven. They are precious messengers of God’s creative power and creative love for us. The design of a newborn is so creative and so awe inspiring. I think that’s why we can’t take our eyes off of them. The velvet skin, the crepe-paper thin nails so perfectly shaped, the peach fuzz sideburns and the cheeks - oh those cheeks, so plump and ready to do their work. Then there are the reflexes of sucking and startling that are such testimonies to a power greater than ourselves at work in the creation and design of human life. But the thing I love the most about those first few encounters with a newborn is the silent messages they bring us from another world. We all start out so close to the Divine, and with each day that pure connection gets clouded by life in this world until it’s almost imperceivable. Then our work becomes trying to get that connection back. So today I need to go spend time with my new little messenger. I know she has something to teach me, to tell me, about a world I once knew. I’m coming Alice Joan! Joan...

The Blessing Scan

I was having a hard time falling asleep last night because I was anxious about the supplement I took to help me fall sleep. Do you catch the irony in that? Yep, that’s the unique way God has wired me. Or should I say the unique way I have wired myself over time? So, I opened the app on my phone called Insight Timer, which has a variety of guided meditations to help put you into a deep and restful sleep. After you are led through a body scan to get all your parts quieted and relaxed, you are encouraged to do what I call a “blessing scan,” a focused time to recall and spend time with each of your blessings. The still, quiet darkness of the middle of the night is the perfect backdrop for a blessing scan and what a powerful balm that can be. I took time with each of my blessings to really soak up the reality of its presence in my life. I didn’t mindlessly rush through the list. There were a lot of people and situations that were obvious blessings, but what surprised me were a few of the people and situations that popped into my head that I’ve never thought of as blessings. It was like God was giving me a new awareness. Another awareness that became more real as I reflected on each blessing was the depth of God’s love. I didn’t always see blessings that way, as an underserved expression of God’s love. More often I saw them as a reward for good behavior. I perceived God’s love as part of a reward system. I would think to myself, “I must have done something good and this is my reward. I better keep up the good work.” Instead of purely a gift and reminder of God’s love, the blessings had strings attached. As I have grown in my faith and in my relationship with God, I know that isn’t true. I can’t quite wrap my human brain around the depth and unfailing love of God, but I know it is real. God’s unconditional love makes no sense. A love like that is so hard to fathom. One of the best ways to help ourselves believe it is to do a blessing scan. I talk to a lot of women these days who can only dream of a night of uninterrupted sleep. Instead of fretting about it and getting frustrated,...