I've been in a spiritual slump that has lasted all summer. I don't know exactly what brought it on (I have some ideas) but it has been a long period of cynicism, doubt, hardness, defensiveness. Beth sent me The Holy Longing (Ronald Rolheiser) as a birthday gift and reading it may be the start of a breakthrough. I said to Dan the other day that I'm glad that God is gracious because when I'm stubborn He reaches me through books even though the ideal would be for me to go directly to Him.
"Spirituality is not something on the fringes, an option for those with a particular bent. None of us has a choice. Everyone has to have a spirituality and everyone does have one, either a life-giving one or a destructive one. No one has the luxury of choosing here because all of us are precisely fired into life with a certain madness that comes from the gods and we have to do something with that. We do not wake up in this world calm and serence, having the luxury of choosing to act or not to act. We wake up crying, on fire with desire, with madness. What we do with that madness is our spiritualtiy.
Hence, spirituality is not about serenely picking or rationally choosing certain spiritual activities like going to church, praying or meditating, reading spiritual books, or setting off on some explicit spiritual quest. It is far more basic than that. Long before we do anything explicitly religious at all, we have to do something about the fire that burns within us. What we do with that fire, how we channel it, is our spirituality. Thus, we all have a spirituality whether we want one or not, whether we are religious or not. Spirituality is more about whether or not we can sleep at night than about whether or not we got to church. It is about being integrated or falling apart, about being within community or being lonely, about being in harmony with Mother Earth or being alienated from her. Irrespective of whether or not we let ourselves be consciously shaped by any explicit religious idea, we act in ways that leave us either healthy or unhealthy, loving or bitter. What shapes our actions is our spirituality."
"Teilhard de Chardin once said that God speaks to every element in the language it can understand. Thus, God lures hydrogen through its attraction to oxygen. God draws everything else, including each of us, in the same way. There is, in the end, one force, one spirit, that works in all of the universe. The chemicals in our hands and those in our brains were forged in the same furnace that forged the stars. The same spirit that drives oxygen to unite with hydrogen makes a baby cry when it is hungry, sends the adolescent out in hormonal restlessness, and calls Mother Teresa to church to pray. There is a discontent, another word for soul and spirit, in all things and what those things, or persons, do with that discontent is their spirituality."
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Here
God, suddenly, is no longer 'somewhere out there' as a Being that I need to understand or please, nor is He something that I need to wrap my mind around or search the world for. No, He is right here where my heart is too. He is in this home that I make for my husband, He is in the care that I have for my dying plant(s), He is in the beauty of the paint that I spread on canvas. Here too is He when my pain spills over into hurtful words and here again in the forgiving arms of my beloved husband. Here He is, so close that I cannot separate His heart from mine, and it is in all of these small everyday things where we will become friends, where I will come to know Him.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
8 Days a week, I love you
I had intended to write much more often than I have over these past 9 months. I’ve come close to writing quite few times but because I’m not a trained writer, I write more from the heart than from the head. It’s a big time commitment and I need to feel drawn to write. On a more practical side, I’m just happy to have made it this far with all the things I have to take care of, so writing isn’t always high on the list. I wish that I could channel thoughts into my blog though because I’m always formulating in my mind.
Today is 6 days away from Dan being home. I don’t really even remember believing that we’d ever get this close to the end. Although the end is near in days, today it feels like forever. The base is in communication lockdown, something that I don’t think has happened even once since the beginning, unless my memory is wrong. I don’t fully understand what has to happen for a lockdown to occur but I’m pretty sure that it’s either a serious threat of some kind or something very important happening that cannot be compromised. Dan was able to text me and let me know but I am anxious just the same. I am not familiar enough with their environment to know whether he is in real danger or not. I’m very shaky at the thought of something happening so close to the end. I just want him to be able to get out and begin his way home.
The expectation so close to the end is that we’re both terribly excited. We are of course, but it’s easy to forget that it’s complicated. We have developed a routine both in our separate lives and in our relating to each other that has been disturbed with the approaching end. Dan has been extremely busy with added work since the first group left and I’ve just been trying to hang on until it’s all over. Our communication has been challenging at times and today, nonexistent. It’s very uncomfortable. I’m not sleeping well anymore because I feel unsettled and restless from excitement and nervousness. I ache for time to move faster so I’m not peaceful or in the moment. I’m very emotional and am close to crying whenever I think of seeing Dan’s face. I’m sure that this will only get worse over the course of the week.
I am very aware of the stress that I’ve been carrying. My spirit, heart, mind and body all feel very tired. Stress is one of those things that can be low-level for so long that you forget it’s there. I think maybe because I’m starting to relax a little, I’m realizing how much I’ve been carrying on my own. I can’t even imagine how exhausted I’m going to feel next weekend when I can fully let go and begin to rest. I’m pretty sure that the stress has been taking its toll on my body for a while now because I’ve been sick almost consistently since Christmas and on Friday I just found out that I have shingles. From what I understand, shingles is something you get when your immune system is compromised so either I have something that is weakening my immune system, or I’m incredibly tired and stressed; probably both are true.
I will reserve sharing about Dan’s experience until I am able to hear it directly from him. His experience is nothing that I can even imagine and I feel like it would do a great disservice to his story to try and describe something that is so foreign to me and so real to him.
I was reminded this week of just how lonely this life can be. I say this not with self-pity, although I have plenty of it, but from a place of observation. On Wed I went to the reintegration briefing held by the family resource centre for spouses and families of returning military members. I was the only spouse there who didn’t have kids so I felt out of place enough. I’m no stranger to the feeling of being not as strong or capable as other wives who have one or several kids. Afterwards, one of the wives said “I don’t mean to belittle your experience or anything, but I really think that it’s easier to handle when you don’t have kids.” So I asked myself – why do you feel like it’s so tough if you don’t have kids? I know in my head that this is subjective. Of course it’s not the same as if I had kids. It felt similar to how I reacted when I read about that woman saying that we shouldn’t complain about being in the military because moving around a lot kept us from getting tired of our neighbors and because we get to see more of the world. All true, but it completely misses the point. This time the comment was that when you don’t have kids, you don’t have to worry about anyone else’s wellbeing and if you want to, you can have cereal for supper. Yes, these are great advantages indeed. Here’s the other side: I realized this week that I don’t really fit in with the military community and I don’t really fit in with the normal world. I don’t know how many people have asked me if the military is a close-knit community because that’s the impression that the TV shows give. It isn’t a close-knit community in my experience. I haven’t really met more than a few people, and now after seeing the other wives, I know that I’d never be friends with them. Even at the briefing all they talked about was getting drunk with their husbands when they got home, which is their choice, but what’s more, they spoke with such a harsh tone in their voice that I found it hard to believe that they hadn’t seen their husbands in several months. I really can’t imagine loving someone to death and caring only that they come home to resume their household responsibilities and help take care of the kids. I want to be careful here too because these are very real longings and I have them myself; I am so excited to not have to carry all the household chores by myself and if we had kids, I’d be so excited to not be single-parenting. But these are secondary longings to me – my first longing is to be reunited with the love of my life. So I don’t fit in with the other wives. I also don’t fit in with the normal world. My friends and church have been really amazing through this whole thing and have given more than I could have ever asked for, but I’m still aware that when I just need to cry at the end of the day, some of my friends are putting their kids to bed and some of them are cuddling with their husbands, and there isn’t really a place for me there. Sure I only have to worry about my own well-being, but it’s really hard to be alone so much of the time and not feel forgotten or like you don’t belong anywhere or to anyone. Sure, I can eat cereal for supper but it’s really sucks to have to cook for yourself all the time and never share a meal with someone or have a reason to care about what you eat. Yes, it’s different for me without kids, but it’s still hard. I’ve started a new job twice, dealt with car trouble multiple times, battled illness, bad weather, depression and hopelessness, so however great it is to be the only one, I really do feel like I’m the only one in this boat.
On a different note, I have been wrestling with the idea of Margin. This is a spiritual practice of sorts that involves leaving space in your life. The easiest way to understand this concept is to relate it to the more common definition of margin, which for most of us is the space around the edge of a written page. Another definition I like is: “a boundary indicating the limit beyond which something should not go or below which something should not fall.” Anyway, it’s a difficult concept to understand because it’s fairly subjective but the idea is that it’s important not to cram your life full because we’re not meant to have every moment so full that you end up missing out on the most important things. I started thinking about this again because it was included in a book I just finished called Good and Beautiful God, which I could say a hundred wonderful things about. The example the author gave was something like this: “Not having margin is like being late to an appt because there was traffic and you were 10 mins late picking your kid up from school because you were 15 mins late leaving work. Margin is having time to get somewhere early and not have to rush.” I really love the thought of margin. I remember saying to Dan a while ago that I hated (strong word, intended) the idea of being so busy that I was rushed and late getting everywhere and that I barely had time to get from one place to the next or do anything I enjoyed because my life was so full. That kind of life is the ugliest thing I could imagine. I really like the idea that I could have a life with space. Putting this into practice is entirely more difficult than liking the idea. Here again we could talk about how having kids makes it even more difficult, so when I have kids I will again wrestle with this idea. I think though that it will be a central practice in my life because it’s necessary for my well-being. So right now it’s not too difficult because I live at least 30 mins away from my friends and very close to work which means that I get to work easily, but I don’t see friends more than once or twice a week because it makes the nights very full to drive an hour plus visiting time. I’ve committed to being involved only with worship at church because after a weeknight practice, I spend all of Sunday morning there. I also want to fit in exercise and music lessons at some point. Plus time with Dan, and God. And enough time to wind down before bed to get a good restful sleep. There aren’t many things packed into my life really, but they’re all good things. What does a person do with all the other good things that need to get done? Like volunteering, helping friends, etc, etc. I don’t know. That’s something I haven’t even worked out, but the best I can tell is that having margin creates the kind of life that makes it possible for you to stretch the margins once in a while without risking a complete breakdown, so that sounds good.
The other thing that I’ve been contemplating is my attitude. I guess somewhere along the way I must have really started hating parts of my life because it seemed like until recently there was nothing I really liked about it. I know that I was unhappy with areas of my life – my relationships were draining, I worked jobs that I really couldn’t stand, I had no purpose or direction and I just felt heavy. I don’t really know why but sometime before Christmas I was driving to the chiropractor, I think, and I remember asking myself – “what is it that you dislike about your life now?” And I honestly couldn’t believe that my answers were so different than years before, yet I was still behaving as if I hated my life. In place of draining relationships I had friendships that were nurturing and invigorating, in place of jobs that I hated I had a new accounting diploma (this is funny now because I’m back in a job that I’m not sure is good for me, and some days, yes I hate it), in place of having no direction or purpose I had a wonderful life of my own with a great husband and in place of heaviness I had a whole lot to be thankful for and joyful about. But it was still really surprising to me that I’d been so blind to the reality of my life. I think what’s more is that I was so used to looking at the world a certain way and behaving a certain way about it that I hadn’t even taken the time to realize that my life’s landscape had completely changed, yet I had painted a picture in my mind that I kept looking at as reality. It was very eye-opening. So since then I’ve kind of been paying attention to that concept when I look at my surroundings. I remember reading somewhere that if living life with God is supposed to grow you into a more joyful, free, loving person, then it’s amazing how many people when they get older end up beaten down, resentful and bitter. This is not what I want to be when I get older. God himself said that he is doing new things in us and one of my friends always said that if God is alive in us, we should always be growing in our ability to love and extend grace and forgiveness and all of those fruitful things. So I guess this is just another way that knowing God actually is supposed to change your life. It’s not like things change all at once, but they do change and we should expect that they change and look for the new things that are coming so that we don’t end up looking through the lens of our old life when we have a completely new one. I feel sad now for the people I see who live as if something that defined their life at one point will be true for them forever. It really is sad because that’s not the truth – the truth is that God is making all things new.
Dear husband, I pray that you’re safe and surrounded by God’s protection and care. I love you.
Today is 6 days away from Dan being home. I don’t really even remember believing that we’d ever get this close to the end. Although the end is near in days, today it feels like forever. The base is in communication lockdown, something that I don’t think has happened even once since the beginning, unless my memory is wrong. I don’t fully understand what has to happen for a lockdown to occur but I’m pretty sure that it’s either a serious threat of some kind or something very important happening that cannot be compromised. Dan was able to text me and let me know but I am anxious just the same. I am not familiar enough with their environment to know whether he is in real danger or not. I’m very shaky at the thought of something happening so close to the end. I just want him to be able to get out and begin his way home.
The expectation so close to the end is that we’re both terribly excited. We are of course, but it’s easy to forget that it’s complicated. We have developed a routine both in our separate lives and in our relating to each other that has been disturbed with the approaching end. Dan has been extremely busy with added work since the first group left and I’ve just been trying to hang on until it’s all over. Our communication has been challenging at times and today, nonexistent. It’s very uncomfortable. I’m not sleeping well anymore because I feel unsettled and restless from excitement and nervousness. I ache for time to move faster so I’m not peaceful or in the moment. I’m very emotional and am close to crying whenever I think of seeing Dan’s face. I’m sure that this will only get worse over the course of the week.
I am very aware of the stress that I’ve been carrying. My spirit, heart, mind and body all feel very tired. Stress is one of those things that can be low-level for so long that you forget it’s there. I think maybe because I’m starting to relax a little, I’m realizing how much I’ve been carrying on my own. I can’t even imagine how exhausted I’m going to feel next weekend when I can fully let go and begin to rest. I’m pretty sure that the stress has been taking its toll on my body for a while now because I’ve been sick almost consistently since Christmas and on Friday I just found out that I have shingles. From what I understand, shingles is something you get when your immune system is compromised so either I have something that is weakening my immune system, or I’m incredibly tired and stressed; probably both are true.
I will reserve sharing about Dan’s experience until I am able to hear it directly from him. His experience is nothing that I can even imagine and I feel like it would do a great disservice to his story to try and describe something that is so foreign to me and so real to him.
I was reminded this week of just how lonely this life can be. I say this not with self-pity, although I have plenty of it, but from a place of observation. On Wed I went to the reintegration briefing held by the family resource centre for spouses and families of returning military members. I was the only spouse there who didn’t have kids so I felt out of place enough. I’m no stranger to the feeling of being not as strong or capable as other wives who have one or several kids. Afterwards, one of the wives said “I don’t mean to belittle your experience or anything, but I really think that it’s easier to handle when you don’t have kids.” So I asked myself – why do you feel like it’s so tough if you don’t have kids? I know in my head that this is subjective. Of course it’s not the same as if I had kids. It felt similar to how I reacted when I read about that woman saying that we shouldn’t complain about being in the military because moving around a lot kept us from getting tired of our neighbors and because we get to see more of the world. All true, but it completely misses the point. This time the comment was that when you don’t have kids, you don’t have to worry about anyone else’s wellbeing and if you want to, you can have cereal for supper. Yes, these are great advantages indeed. Here’s the other side: I realized this week that I don’t really fit in with the military community and I don’t really fit in with the normal world. I don’t know how many people have asked me if the military is a close-knit community because that’s the impression that the TV shows give. It isn’t a close-knit community in my experience. I haven’t really met more than a few people, and now after seeing the other wives, I know that I’d never be friends with them. Even at the briefing all they talked about was getting drunk with their husbands when they got home, which is their choice, but what’s more, they spoke with such a harsh tone in their voice that I found it hard to believe that they hadn’t seen their husbands in several months. I really can’t imagine loving someone to death and caring only that they come home to resume their household responsibilities and help take care of the kids. I want to be careful here too because these are very real longings and I have them myself; I am so excited to not have to carry all the household chores by myself and if we had kids, I’d be so excited to not be single-parenting. But these are secondary longings to me – my first longing is to be reunited with the love of my life. So I don’t fit in with the other wives. I also don’t fit in with the normal world. My friends and church have been really amazing through this whole thing and have given more than I could have ever asked for, but I’m still aware that when I just need to cry at the end of the day, some of my friends are putting their kids to bed and some of them are cuddling with their husbands, and there isn’t really a place for me there. Sure I only have to worry about my own well-being, but it’s really hard to be alone so much of the time and not feel forgotten or like you don’t belong anywhere or to anyone. Sure, I can eat cereal for supper but it’s really sucks to have to cook for yourself all the time and never share a meal with someone or have a reason to care about what you eat. Yes, it’s different for me without kids, but it’s still hard. I’ve started a new job twice, dealt with car trouble multiple times, battled illness, bad weather, depression and hopelessness, so however great it is to be the only one, I really do feel like I’m the only one in this boat.
On a different note, I have been wrestling with the idea of Margin. This is a spiritual practice of sorts that involves leaving space in your life. The easiest way to understand this concept is to relate it to the more common definition of margin, which for most of us is the space around the edge of a written page. Another definition I like is: “a boundary indicating the limit beyond which something should not go or below which something should not fall.” Anyway, it’s a difficult concept to understand because it’s fairly subjective but the idea is that it’s important not to cram your life full because we’re not meant to have every moment so full that you end up missing out on the most important things. I started thinking about this again because it was included in a book I just finished called Good and Beautiful God, which I could say a hundred wonderful things about. The example the author gave was something like this: “Not having margin is like being late to an appt because there was traffic and you were 10 mins late picking your kid up from school because you were 15 mins late leaving work. Margin is having time to get somewhere early and not have to rush.” I really love the thought of margin. I remember saying to Dan a while ago that I hated (strong word, intended) the idea of being so busy that I was rushed and late getting everywhere and that I barely had time to get from one place to the next or do anything I enjoyed because my life was so full. That kind of life is the ugliest thing I could imagine. I really like the idea that I could have a life with space. Putting this into practice is entirely more difficult than liking the idea. Here again we could talk about how having kids makes it even more difficult, so when I have kids I will again wrestle with this idea. I think though that it will be a central practice in my life because it’s necessary for my well-being. So right now it’s not too difficult because I live at least 30 mins away from my friends and very close to work which means that I get to work easily, but I don’t see friends more than once or twice a week because it makes the nights very full to drive an hour plus visiting time. I’ve committed to being involved only with worship at church because after a weeknight practice, I spend all of Sunday morning there. I also want to fit in exercise and music lessons at some point. Plus time with Dan, and God. And enough time to wind down before bed to get a good restful sleep. There aren’t many things packed into my life really, but they’re all good things. What does a person do with all the other good things that need to get done? Like volunteering, helping friends, etc, etc. I don’t know. That’s something I haven’t even worked out, but the best I can tell is that having margin creates the kind of life that makes it possible for you to stretch the margins once in a while without risking a complete breakdown, so that sounds good.
The other thing that I’ve been contemplating is my attitude. I guess somewhere along the way I must have really started hating parts of my life because it seemed like until recently there was nothing I really liked about it. I know that I was unhappy with areas of my life – my relationships were draining, I worked jobs that I really couldn’t stand, I had no purpose or direction and I just felt heavy. I don’t really know why but sometime before Christmas I was driving to the chiropractor, I think, and I remember asking myself – “what is it that you dislike about your life now?” And I honestly couldn’t believe that my answers were so different than years before, yet I was still behaving as if I hated my life. In place of draining relationships I had friendships that were nurturing and invigorating, in place of jobs that I hated I had a new accounting diploma (this is funny now because I’m back in a job that I’m not sure is good for me, and some days, yes I hate it), in place of having no direction or purpose I had a wonderful life of my own with a great husband and in place of heaviness I had a whole lot to be thankful for and joyful about. But it was still really surprising to me that I’d been so blind to the reality of my life. I think what’s more is that I was so used to looking at the world a certain way and behaving a certain way about it that I hadn’t even taken the time to realize that my life’s landscape had completely changed, yet I had painted a picture in my mind that I kept looking at as reality. It was very eye-opening. So since then I’ve kind of been paying attention to that concept when I look at my surroundings. I remember reading somewhere that if living life with God is supposed to grow you into a more joyful, free, loving person, then it’s amazing how many people when they get older end up beaten down, resentful and bitter. This is not what I want to be when I get older. God himself said that he is doing new things in us and one of my friends always said that if God is alive in us, we should always be growing in our ability to love and extend grace and forgiveness and all of those fruitful things. So I guess this is just another way that knowing God actually is supposed to change your life. It’s not like things change all at once, but they do change and we should expect that they change and look for the new things that are coming so that we don’t end up looking through the lens of our old life when we have a completely new one. I feel sad now for the people I see who live as if something that defined their life at one point will be true for them forever. It really is sad because that’s not the truth – the truth is that God is making all things new.
Dear husband, I pray that you’re safe and surrounded by God’s protection and care. I love you.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Deeply
Has it really been two months since I last wrote a blog post? I suppose I'd have a ways to go if I ever wanted to work as a writer.
As it happens, I am only writing right now because I am deep in God's spirit, overwhelmed with gratitude and overcome with emotion at the absolute beauty of this life. My path to the computer tonight is almost comical in its makeup, yet I feel heavily (and heavenly) surrounded by angels or something of God. I spent most of the day looking at this screen working on our budget and financial plan and updating my resume and looking for jobs. I made waffles for supper because I couldn't find anything else to make on short notice and I've been craving sugar like all get out. I watched an episode of Glee that had to do with faith and it upset me because shows always generalize faith in Jesus and say things that aren't true. It upsets me because people believe those lines and never question whether they're true. On the way back to the computer I stopped at the piano to sing a little and I ended up playing songs from my old Michael W Smith books. It's sometimes funny to revisit songs from when you were 15 because they're out of date in so many ways and so packed with memories in others. I played songs about saying goodbye to good friends and praying for each other and the truth of the words hit me really hard because of the reality of the life we are living. I am deeply in love with our life even though I didn't want to move here and yet I know that we are not here forever. I played songs about being hopelessly tangled in God's love and alive with his breath. These too are things that I am deeply in love with, and they are here forever. For whatever reason, these songs have opened in me a well of grief and gratitude, love and loneliness, fear and courage. They take me back so many years to a time when I was first discovering just how much of my heart I had already given to God and they take me now right to God's feet where I sit with tears streaming down my face at the reality of how far I will go for love of God.
I had planned to embed this in a long blog post about Christmas and other reflections on life, but it is pouring out of me now and nothing will stop it. My dear husband, the love of my life, has heard the call of God and is following the path to become a military chaplain. (sob) In case you're worried, these are tears of joy. I am overwhelmed. I wish that I could express all of the reasons why this makes me cry tears of joy. I will try.
I feel like every particle of my being is bursting with life that can barely be contained, just from being able to witness first hand the intimate work of God in Dan's life. In a short period of time I have watched as God whispered possibilities into Dan's heart, as he asked more firmly for Dan's obedience, as Dan questioned whether he'd heard God's voice, as he gave himself humbly over to God's call and now how he stands securely in love on a road that only God can see. I never want to doubt that God works in the small moments of our lives to bring about things that are beyond our imagination.
I am thankful in a way that leaves me feeling like a grain of sand or a snowflake. Small and insignificant, yet infinitely loved and worthy of blessing beyond anything I could hope for. Out of all that my life has been, out of all the pain and mistakes, out of all the broken relationships and darkness, out of all the ugliness and hopelessness, there is something beautiful being made. I am married to the best man I've ever known. I'm married to him because God knew more than I ever knew about what my life would look like. I'm married to a man who takes risks for love. I'm married to someone who loves God just as much as I do, which seems ordinary, but I know that it's not. I care more about knowing God and having a living faith than I do about anything else in my life. I'm surprised at how much I love God sometimes. I feel close to bursting. My dear husband does not claim to have faith yet live as if God were a stranger. He loves in a way that changes me. He believes who God says he is and he believes what God says is true. He knows what God's voice sounds like and he listens to it. In the midst of war, he still calls me 'darling, precious wife'.
I know that this is not all about me. I feel like I have been given a gift to be able to spend my life serving God with the love of my life. That is something that I didn't know I wanted, but something God knew I needed. What a privilege to be the wife of a chaplain.
Dan and I celebrated our 3rd wedding anniversary this past December. It's hard to believe that it's been 3 years already. We are so different from who we were as a couple when we got married, yet we are so much more like ourselves. Dan makes me laugh more than anyone else I've ever met. I have relaxed into marriage and I am much more vulnerable. Even in a time when marriages end with little thought or effort, with all we've been through we've seen that perseverance grows beauty, faithfulness is a gift from God and that love never ends. Marrying Dan is the best thing I've ever done and I know that he'd say the same about marrying me. We are together forever: husband, wife and God.
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