Water Lily World

In these days leading up to Thanksgiving, I am going to try to focus on what I have to be grateful for and keep any creeping thoughts of discontent at bay. My grateful heart can so easily be ambushed by comparisons and perceived slights. It takes discipline to maintain a grateful heart. When I am grateful and find myself wanting to show God the depth of my gratitude, words don’t seem adequate. There never seems to be quite the right words to express the depth of that feeling of thanks. The same is true for the depth of my feelings of thanks to all of you. I am so grateful that God has built this loving and supportive community that is Firstfruits. I am so thankful to know that you are there. Whether in person, virtually on Zoom, or anonymously reading these blogs, I know you are there. Your presence is a constant reminder to me of God’s love and deep care. I hope you feel the depth of my thanks. Blessed Thanksgiving to you and all those you love, Joan Every summer the lilies rise and open their white hands until they almost cover the black waters of the pond. And I give thanks but it does not seem like adequate thanks, it doesn’t seem festive enough or constant enough, nor does the name of the Lord or the words of thanksgiving come into it often enough. Everywhere I go I am treated like royalty, which I am not. I thirst and am given water. My eyes thirst and I am given the white lilies on the black water. My heart sings but the apparatus of singing doesn’t convey half what it feels and means. In spring there’s hope, in fall the exquisite, necessary diminishing, in winter I am sleepy as any beast in its leafy cave, but in summer there is everywhere the luminous sprawl of gifts, the hospitality of the Lord and my inadequate answers as I row my beautiful, temporary body through this water-lily world.                                                                  Mary Oliver...

The Report Card

It’s that time of year when Parent-Teacher Conferences take place in many schools. Back when my kids were in grade school, it was only the parents that met with the teachers, not the students. Now, very often, the children accompany their parents. That way the child gets a progress report in person. How reassuring for them to know exactly what is expected of them and how encouraging for them to know they are on the right track, or if there are areas for improvement, that there is support. In a discussion at Firstfruits this week, one of the participants bemoaned the fact that we don’t get progress reports from God. We don’t know if we are living up to expectations. There is no report card and no way to know for sure if we are on the right track or where we need improvement. This doubt and uncertainty can be subtle, lying right below the surface of all our good intentions, causing a lot of unnecessary worry, and robbing us of the assurance and peace that comes with the loving relationship that God wants to have with us. So often, we measure progress in our spiritual life by things we do or should do. We can so easily compare ourselves to others and feel as if we fall short. I’ve heard people say they wonder if God is disappointed in them, or frustrated with them, or sometimes even wonder if God does love them. I hear it often, women who feel as if they aren’t doing, giving, or being enough. I don’t think God wants it to be so complicated. In Mary Oliver’s poem entitled Sometimes, she writes: Instructions for living a life:             Pay attention             Be astonished             Tell about it. I believe these three tasks sum up what God’s expectations are of us. This is our homework, and if we are doing these three things as best we can, as often as we can, and with as much love as we can, we are doing just fine. Pay attention Don’t sleepwalk through life. Do everything you can to stay alert, and aware of God’s presence and power all around you, every minute of every day. Each breath we take whispers God’s presence. Listen and look for the songs and the dances of God’s presence in your ordinary life. Look for it in nature, in family, in friendships, and in the stranger. Once you find it, pay attention to...

Listening, Loving, and Sharing

I am feeling very conflicted as I write this blog. By the time you are reading this it will be just days before Election Day--you know that thing that is happening November 5 that has consumed the airwaves and our conversations for months. I feel I should be commenting on the upcoming election, but at the same time I don’t believe I can say anything that hasn’t already been said, unsaid, spun, tweeted, debated, and negated. All I am going to say is I hope you will join me in these days leading up to, and after the election, in sincere prayer for our country, its leaders, and each other. In the words of Sikh activist and author, Valarie Kaur, What I want to remind us all is that as much as we must fight for our convictions and stand for what is just, remember that all those people who vote against you are not disappearing after Election Day or Inauguration Day. We have to find a way to live together still. The only way to birth a multiracial democracy is if we hold up a vision of a future that leaves no one behind not even our worst opponents. Don’t underestimate the power of prayer, especially now. I do want to share with you three changes I have noticed in myself from these months of political conversations and friendly(?) debates. I have learned the paramount importance of listening, really listening. I have developed a budding hope that unity can be a reality if I’m curious enough to hear other’s stories. Lastly, I have a renewed belief in the power of love. I have been in conversations where listening and curiosity and love were there and where listening and curiosity and love weren’t there.  The outcomes were dramatically different. Listening is a lost art in our world today. Hearing is easy, but listening takes discipline. To really listen to someone takes patience, not pre-suppositions. To really listen to someone takes openness, not offense. To really listen to someone means we need to have a willingness to be curious, not correct. These are all very difficult things when passions run high. Kaur says, “Deep listening is an act of surrender. You risk being changed by what you hear.”  She talks about spaces of deep listening and how they aren’t modeled for us in the world around us. We have to create those spaces. She also emphasizes the importance...

A Piggyback Ride

I was on a morning walk when I spied this tree and it stopped me in my tracks. It looks like one tree is giving the other a piggyback ride. The rider doesn’t look weak or sick or debilitated, on the contrary, it appears to be just as vital and strong as the one carrying it. But looks can be deceiving. When life gets challenging and downright overwhelming, how easy is it for you to admit that you need help? It doesn’t come easy for me. I don’t like to appear needy or dependent. Maybe it’s my pride or my ego, but I like to think I can handle things. When I did allow my vulnerability to show and reached out in the past, people seemed so surprised. I would often hear, “You just seem to have it all together.” Looks can be deceiving. How hard we try to look like we have it all together. All that trying becomes exhausting. Why is it so hard to be vulnerable? For me, it feels like defeat when I go belly-up and admit I can’t handle something, or that I am scared, or that I just don’t know what to do. It sounds too much like what a child would do and I’m supposed to be a grown-up. Or am I? How many times, in Scripture, we hear Jesus say that we need to become more like children.   In the gospel of Matthew, when the apostles asked Jesus “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” Jesus replied, “Unless you become as little children you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven.” In the gospel of Luke, when the crowds were gathering and there were many children around Jesus, the apostles rebuked the crowd. But Jesus called the children to him and said, “Let the children come to me and do not prevent them for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.” Jesus valued humility and trust. Young children are full of both. Especially humility. Admitting we can’t handle it all takes humility, childlike humility, and childlike trust that when we admit we need help, the help will be there. It’s in that humility and trust that we meet God. He’s there to hike us up on his back and carry us for as long as we need. You can work hard to try and appear strong and capable and self-sufficient all the time, but who are...

Road Trip

Twelve years ago, I was walking to the polls to vote in the presidential election. It was a sunny, crisp autumn morning. I was struggling with some decisions I had to make and feeling very weighed down by it all. I looked to my side and saw the sun shining on a very dried up plant on the side of the road. The shape of the plant as it was decaying and the way the rays of the sun hit it, stopped me in my tracks. It looked just like Jesus hanging on the cross. You could almost see a crown of thorns and there were two clumps of dried leaves on either side of the “body” that reminded me of the ugliness and the weight of our sins. I pulled the plant out of the ground and have kept it as a reminder of how God comes to us in very ordinary places and in very extraordinary ways. We just have to be open to it. I carried this gift with me each week to a bible study I was involved in, and one day one of the women in the group said the plant looked so fragile she was afraid it would break, so she talked to her husband who was very handy and he said he could make a display box for it and voila! My Jesus plant had a permanent home. I take it with me when I give talks on seeing the divine in our ordinary lives. I was honored to be asked to give that talk to a newly-formed women’s group at St. Joseph Parish in Grafton this morning. My Firstfruits partner, Mary, accompanies me when I give a talk. I give her a list of what I need to bring and she packs the car. This morning when I opened the back door of her car to put my bag in, I saw something that just made me smile. (See the picture above.) Jesus was all strapped in, ready for a road trip. I like that visual of Jesus all safely strapped in behind me. Accompanying me as I hit the road each day on my journey through life. My traveling companion. That visual also reminded me of how beautifully strange our lives become when we give them over to God. How different and set apart we become from many around us. Our thoughts and our desires shift to a...

Turn, Turn, Turn

There is no more denying it, Summer has packed up her beach umbrella and flip flops and moved on. Fall is slowly taking residency. The air is crisp and heavy with the smells of dried leaves and pumpkin-flavored goodies. For me the air also has a faint smell of melancholy. As much as I love Fall, I also have a hard time with this transition. I have to work hard to stay in the moment throughout Fall and not think about what is right around the corner. My reluctance to move on is highlighted in the picture above. I can’t seem to say good-bye to my garden. My planters on the patio are having a hard time saying good-bye to me too. They just keep growing. Every couple days, I think I should go out and empty them in preparation for Winter, but I can’t. So, I placed a small pumpkin in each one to gently signal to them and me, that it’s time to move on. This transition to Fall was the focus of a Firstfruit’s member event a couple weeks ago. We gathered at my house for a Forest Therapy session. Our guide, Allison, encouraged us to go off in the woods and reflect on different aspects of our oneness with nature. After our time of reflection, we gathered together to share our thoughts and impressions. We told our stories of the impact God’s creation had on us. Allison then took our stories and wove them into one in the form of the poem below. Enjoy our woven story and this predictable, yet awe-inspiring time of year, when God gifts us with a reminder of His love in the beauty and the comforting predictability of nature. Joan   SEPTEMBER While we find ourselves a little fearful to Trace the veins of a leaf That look eerily similar to our own, September unearths many treasures, The scent of the leaf’s underside Transporting us back to younger years, Connecting the veins of a life To a greater whole. Reclining like Cleopatra With trees fanning us luxuriously, We hope for grapes from the Harvest Moon, As we relax into being ourselves Just being—no doing, no deciding. There’s no urgency to pick paint colors As the trees have already chosen Colors that will be revealed very soon. Squirrels visible through the canopy Racing up and down trunks Instinct telling them when enough is enough In their nut-filled caverns. Deer peek through trees Wondering why we’re holding owl feathers And acorns and rocks and a big stick, Envious of treasures we’re going to take home. How...

Recipe for Victory

Last week I wrote about the devil. I don’t usually like to give the devil a lot of press, but I do feel compelled to tell you one more thing about him, and then I will be done. I promise. I mentioned last week that it seems the devil is alerted when we decide to just be. Those times, when we stop the doing and busyness and desire to spend time in quiet being, seem to be when we can become captive to negative or anxiety producing thoughts. There is another time, when it seems the devil is alerted, and this week, I wanted to write to you about that. Whenever we find ourselves using our God-given gifts to do good, a scouting report seems to get back to the devil, and it sets potentially destructive wheels in motion. Whether grandiose or barely noticeable, when our words, actions, or intentions are focused on building the kingdom of God here on earth, red flags go up. Helping a stranger, encouraging a discouraged friend, sharing our God stories, organizing a community building event, or joining the board of a faith-based organization, these are just a few of the ways, big and small, that we use our gifts to bring Christ to our world. The devil doesn’t like this and will do whatever it takes to stop us. He stops us by very subtle but powerful means. He knows our trigger points and fires right at them. He fills our minds with whatever is sure to paralyze us and render us ineffective. For some of us that is doubt or discouragement, memories of past failures, or reminders of perceived inadequacies. For others it’s fear and anxiety. I fall into that last category. My call and my gifts center around helping others find God. Anytime I find myself using those gifts, I can be sure a bout of anxiety is right around the corner. Out of nowhere, anxious thoughts pop up. That fact used to cause me pause, but I know now what it really is, and I know I have an ally in my corner more powerful than anything the devil can throw at me. I want to share with you what I have learned from my years on the battle field. I am nowhere near conquering all of the attacks in timely fashion but I have made strides. My recipe for Victory: 1Cup of Self Care I have found I am...

The Devil’s Switchboard

Last week I filled you in on what I learned while I was just “being” for a couple months. There is one other thing that was made clear to me during that time that I didn’t share with you. I came to realize the truth in the old phrase, "Idle hands are the devil’s workshop." I can attest to the truth in that phrase. Somehow, someway, the devil is alerted when we decide to just be. It’s like he’s standing in front of a large switchboard on which each of us has a light that lights up red when we are in a state of just being. The devil is alerted and plugs into the receptacle under our light to connect with us.  Then he quietly, but relentlessly, converses with us. He whispers through the line. He brings to our attention those things that scare us, sadden us, disappoint us, and make us anxious. He fills our heads with doubts and subtle lies. He dredges up our failures and past mistakes. I feel ambushed and defenseless when this happens. I can go down a rabbit hole of anxiety and worry and all kinds of dark feelings very quickly. My knee jerk reaction is to busy myself, both physically and mentally. I want my red light to go off so he leaves me alone. I felt these moments of real warfare with the devil when I was just being. So many times, the negative ruminations overshadowed the pure joy and goodness that surrounded me. The peace and intimacy with God that is available when we are still was stolen from me bit by bit. I could feel it. I have felt myself headed for that rabbit hole many times in the past, but for some reason this time, I felt a strong desire to not let it happen. I was going to fight back. As I was being taunted by the devil, the state of just being afforded me the quiet and the focused space to connect with the Holy Spirit, and the Spirit gave me all I needed to recognize what was going on and the courage to make the choice to fight back. This time fighting with the power of the Holy Spirit and not my own power. I didn’t run away by busying myself, I stood firm in the stillness and fought back. And I won. I won because I was able to live life...

What I KNOW – You Can Fall In Love With God

I’m back. As you recall, I had decided to take the month of July off and just be. I took a break from doing and just focused on being. To say it was worth it is an understatement. It was so worth it that I took the month of August off too! But duty has called and I’m back in the Firstfruits driver’s seat along with my team, looking forward to our fifteenth season. I did sit down a couple of times in the last few weeks to update you on what has been going on but had a hard time putting my thoughts in writing. I’m still trying to process all that happened in the land of just being. First, let me tell you about the more easily understood happenings of the last couple months of being. I stopped trying to keep my monstrous mane looking presentable and let the humidity take my hair hostage. I also developed sensitivity to my eye make-up so I stopped using it. It felt good and very freeing not to have to think so much about my physical appearance. I came face to face (literally) with the aging me and invited her to stay this time. The bird in the picture above reminded me of me. It came out of the bath all puffed up and looking so disheveled. However, it didn’t seem to care what it looked like. It didn’t shake itself back into some semblance of order. It just relaxed in its natural state. A great lesson I learned from just being. I spent way more time in the garden or just reading outside during my down time. I tried not to plan too far ahead. I lived in the moment. I traveled to California and Elkhart Lake. I golfed. I spent a week with my sister who came in from out of town, and I fell in love. Yes, you read that right. This is the not-so-easily-understood part of my journey of being. I fell in love with something or someone. I haven’t quite figured it out exactly but I think it’s God.   I have come to realize that there is a difference between loving someone and being “in love” with someone. I love my dad but I am in love with my husband. Being in love includes an intimacy that loving doesn’t. I have acknowledged that I love God for a very long time. I show...

What I KNOW – We are Human Beings, Not Human Doings

I was born a human being, not a human doing. I know that in God’s master plan for us humans, he intended there to be more time being than doing. Doing is necessary. Otherwise, how would the meals get made and the bills get paid? From very early on we are taught how to do. No one teaches us how to be. If we are blessed, we figure that out on our own. We figure out, through trial and error, just how much doing we can do before we need to just be for a while. Just being is often harder than doing. It necessitates a slowing down. It gives a microphone to those voices in our heads that tell us that being is just downright lazy, unproductive, and wasteful. Shameful even. God made us human beings and wants us to be with Him. Not just for all eternity but for here and now. I have decided I have been doing a lot of doing and need some time to be. I feel God agrees. So, for the month of July, I am going to just be. I hope you will consider joining me. I’ll be back at the keyboard in August full of more things I KNOW from just being. See you then, Joan...