help me to surrender my timeline
the sequence of my plans
the ideas of who my people need to be
when i am overcome by expectations and this ticking clock
can i trust in your miracles and your majesty
that your vision is brighter, greater, wider than what i can see
when i sink in my disappointment and fear
can you remind me that against your plans for me, i am exactly where i need to be
when i feel
oh help me to find power in that ability
to experience what it means to be human
with a god who will catch me even still
prayer
my prayer today
i feel vulnerable and naked when i talk about faith & god
like the utterance of god is immediately followed by a need to prove their existence
this pressure closes me up
does the opposite of what i hope
what if i cannot fail
what if risking is enough
what if pressure is an illusion
what i hope is that my presence mirrors the presence of god
that my steps and my words and my actions reflect a miracle of being
that was only possible by a love so grand and unexplainable
it transformed me into what i was made for
i continue to choose god
i lack proof
i lack evidence
i lack a satisfactory reason
yet this i know
god made me different
whole
open
hopeful
all things i felt were not a part of me when i felt apart from god
and so even when
these days i feel that my whole, my open, my hope
are fleeting and faint
and i stand a fraud
the risk is the still choosing
still believing
still expecting
i beg and i plea for god’s presence to wrap me again
god’s presence to stare right into my fears
to break my armor and my hold
to teach me once again the act of surrender and sacrifice
not from obligation but from a complete trust in abundance
to give is to believe i have enough, more than enough
to forgive is to believe i am you and you are me
to love is to believe it is the only way we will make it to tomorrow
Lent 2022: Surrendering the need to punish
Nothing gets under my skin more than when evil and rudeness occur and perpetrators get away from it. From Putin’s ruthless egotistical war to Florida’s ridiculous laws against freedom of speech and sexuality to the men who never move aside and assume YOU need to move, I want to scream. I want heaps of coal to befall these evil doers. Underneath my demand for consequences is my lack of faith in God’s Justice and grace. I don’t fully believe God sees our hurt and our harm. I don’t fully believe that God has our back. I don’t even believe he fully forgives me when I’m the perpetrator of bad.
To believe in mercy is to believe in Justice
To hope for renewal and redemption and repentance is to hope for grace
To demand others be better is to demand for myself to be better. Can I trust that my grace and forgiveness and surrendering my need to retaliate will return to me, strength, love and greater clarity of the human condition?
Lent 2022: Fasting my defenses
…and surrendering my armor.
I have spent most of my life feeling like I need to protect myself, and showcase strength in a manner that feels on my skin. I have been taught and I have experienced a world that doesn’t have my life and presence as things of importance. Well, then let me show you I’m worthy to be respected. But this actually has only pushed people away, built my own guilt, and encouraged me to build narratives of fear & separation.
Can I trust that my worth is secure by surrendering my need to self-protect? Can I hear all the words and see all the actions from eyes of compassion and grace? Maybe they are not against me. Maybe they are simply hurt and you came across their path. Maybe your lack of defenses will be a connective strength…
Today a man was very rude to me, and I felt my body tense and go into anger. My thoughts built tales about him. I was so angry that he got away with being so mean to me. Already feeling like I missed my fast… I took a breath, and slowly let go. What was under my anger and within my stories? My sadness. My fear. My ability to still hope and still go about life not expecting rudeness. That was an exception. That was not about me. My response is about me.
Advent: Day 7
Just now I realized that I forgot to write yesterday. My stomach sank as I pulled out my phone to do this post on the train. My daily challenge to write every day during advent is imperfect and incomplete.
But who else is keeping track? Is there someone judging me? Yes, I wish I had written yesterday, but what does a hiccup afford me? A reminder to give myself grace. A reminder that imperfect and incomplete are fine, and if I want I can simply get back on task. A reminder that maybe imperfect and incomplete is the closest we will get to wholeness. It’s the attempt at it. It’s the working at it. It’s the laughing and crying I’m trying at it.
You can’t wait perfectly. Sometimes other things in life steer you off course or pull your focus. Those moments give us an opportunity to reevaluate — is the pivot worthwhile to pursue or is the original Hope still the main thing? Waiting is not stagnant. It’s not laying down to sleep hoping things will fall from the sky. It can allow for tasks and inspirations not originally thought of when you started the journey. Waiting can also have it’s sabbath. Maybe that’s what I allowed for myself yesterday.
Where can you forgive yourself for falling short, or where can you realize you actually have not fallen short, and simply have done your best?
Where can you be more imperfect and incomplete because that requires more faith and curiosity?
Be imperfect. Just start. Just continue. Meet you at the finish line.
Advent: Day 4
There’s a kind of waiting that hurts me the most: seeing those I love in their times of waiting. I want to help and know there is really no way for me to help, but to make space. I want to fix and give them a kidney if it would help, but know that would only harm our relationship. I want to cover them with encouragement, even though they often seem to fall short. I hate seeing those I love, not there yet.
And I have to remind myself, there are so many victories and transformations privately happening that can only happen if I let go of control and let them ride this storm. I have to remind myself, I don’t see the full picture. I have to trust that they are much stronger than I know. I have to trust that god’s got them, and gods ways are bajillion times kinder, wiser, more magical than anything I could conjure up. These moments remind me that I am human and I am not alone in my waiting and they are not alone in their waiting. We wait alone, together.
So here’s to my beautiful life partners — you are doing it and I am cheering you on. You are in the thick of it and if you need a hand, I am here with what you need. I want everything for you while knowing not much of what exactly your heart craves. I am here with you. I am here with you in this valley. I pray for you incessantly, when I rise, when I bathe, when I walk, whenever you pop into my mind. I pray that I don’t get in the way of the magic that is about to come your way. I am sending you hugs and hopes and celebratory arms, because you alive, still going for your dream is full of victory. I’m here, waving at you, throwing my cheesy thumbs up. I know a thing or two about waiting, so hey. We wait together.
Take a breath. Let time do it’s job.
Yesterday I found out that a good friend of mine got an amazing opportunity. I was so happy and inspired by her. I wish my feelings stopped there, but as I am a hypersensitive overthinking feelings-drawn human, I sunk deep into a well of emotions that made me feel guilty. I was jealous. I was disappointed in myself. Dare I say, I was even angry that the world blesses people like my friend and people like me are meant to ride the Ferris wheel to nowhere special. And I know! “Jealousy and disappointment really just show WHAT YOU WANT!” “Friends getting great things means THE UNIVERSE CAN GIVE IT TO YOU, TOO.” “Express the feelings and they will move, sweet pea.” I journaled and I cried and I prayed and I drank and I walked up the Hudson River to get my body moving.
Yet the feelings lingered and I stayed in the not yet and already of, trusting what is mine will not be taken from me. I just wished I was less human and only had super celebratory thoughts for my friend.
Then today I got an answer to prayer — an opportunity that gave me a clear exit from the service job I wasn’t super excited about starting. I could not believe the timing of the call. I could not believe I felt so excited after weeks of ambient grumpiness. I experienced this unexpected joy again.
I don’t want the solution to jealously and disappointment to a tangible exciting opportunity that refocuses your brain. But it helps! It really helps because I am a scared child full of doubt. But banking on physical opportunities is throwing things into the wind. So in this current moment of bliss here are my takeaways that might snap me out of my next stretch of dark gray:
Who has reached out to me recently that I can point to as life rafters? Thank them!
I don’t need to justify my life to anyone who doesn’t believe in faithful living.
Is there anyone around you you can help so you can pull your head out of the well?
Treat yourself to a cookie or a margarita or an expensive Pilates class.
Only the brave can live moment to moment, like Anna, doing the next right thing. And if you don’t know, call a friend.
Thank you god for granting me gifts that remind me I am not forgotten, that my path is uniquely mine, and I am worthy regardless of the outcome.
Lent Day 42: I give up A Rigid Sense of Self
Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter – when you see the naked, to clothe them, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood? Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard. Then you will call, and the Lord will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.
Isaiah 58:6-9
I give up a rigid sense of self. Sometimes I have much. Often I am the hungry too. Sometimes I feel rooted at home. Often I am the poor wanderer. Sometimes I feel clothed and beautiful. Often I am naked and even more beautiful. I am in a place of need just as much as I am in a place where I can provide. May I give and receive with the same open heart. May I give and receive with a faith that things can shift and I can ride that. May I give and receive knowing both are needed for our collective healing.
Lent Day 41: I give up Resentment
If you do away with the yoke of oppression, with the pointing finger and malicious talk, and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday. The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail. Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins and will raise up the age-old foundations; Restorer of Streets with Dwellings.
Isaiah 58:9-12
I give up resentment. I give up retaliation. I give up grudges. I give up hurting myself in an attempt to show another person they hurt me. I give into forgiveness. I give into breath. I give into God holding my hands when I can’t seem to keep my head up. I give into God on my side, in me, beside me, before me, behind me. God I pray that you will clear out the bitter and hardened parts of me and replace them with tender and curious openings.
Lent Day 35: I give up Closing Up
Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter, when you see the naked, to clothe them, and not turn away from your own flesh and blood? Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard. Then you will call, and the Lord will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.
Isaiah 58:6-9
I give up closing my heart and my hands when I know, and this I do know, in my heart, in my body, in my soul, that when I open my heart and my hands, I will receive in ways I could never have imagined. God, keep my heart and my hands open. God, keep my eyes ready to see you. God, keep my ears ready to hear you. God, please keep me soft and open.
Are you there God? 