Searching for Sacred

I used to half-heartedly joke that God is gracious enough to not expose all of my character flaws and sinfulness all at once for surely if I looked at it in its entirety it would destroy me.   Rather than seeing all that falls short of perfection, layers are gently peeled back and I am given the option to address what has been exposed or throw on my defenses of denial, intellectualism, justification, rationalization, minimization, and a whole battery of “tions” and pretend it does not exist.   Every now and then, a REALLY BIG area is exposed, one that is painful and difficult to look at. It is that one that I will fight tooth and nail to ignore; exhaust great emotional energy to avoid.   This week, with the onset of Advent, such a layer has opened up and I find myself at the fork in the road. Advent.   The season of hope, waiting, and anticipation of full redemption.   It is also recognition that we are living in the space between the Incarnation of Christ...

“If we love God and love others in Him, we will be glad to let suffering destroy anything in us that God is pleased to let it destroy, because we know that all it destroys in unimportant.   We will prefer to let the accidental trash of life be consumed by suffering in order that His glory may come out clean in everything we do.”   Thomas Merton, No Man in an Island We as a society do not like to suffer.   A billion dollar industry exists to medicate away our pain, sadness, worries, and discomforts.    We have complex coping skills to dull the pain of life.   We watch television, zone out with computer games, sleep too much, drink too much, stuff ourselves with comfort food – anything that will allow us a temporary escape from that which causes discomfort.     What do we lose by avoiding the path of suffering?   As Merton suggests in the above quote, suffering provides an opportunity to purify our intentions and longings.   In s...

I had a professor in college we affectionately called "The Sarge."  "The Sarge" taught Koine Greek, or Biblical Greek -- parsing verbs, translating passages.  It was brutal!  So brutal that I took up smoking cheap cigars the night before a test and had a flashcard bonfire at the end of the year.  Outside of Greek, this professor taught sociology and religion classes.  No "Sarge" in these settings.  In fact, she was one of my favorites.  In a time of deep spiritual crisis I went to her for advice.  I needed help dealing with doubt.  My faith journey is marked by a constant wrestle with doubt and fear of spiritual intimacy.  Her advice in 1997, "Cling to the Liturgy.  Let it carry you." I did not grow up with Liturgy -- rites, rituals, spiritual seasons, and a three-year cycle of reading through the Scripture.  But I was exploring Liturgy through prayer books as well as visiting Greek Orthodox and Catholic churches.  I wa...

Friday was a wake-up call.   It was the sort of sirens blaring in my ear kind of wake-up call.   Last year at this time, I ran a half marathon after months of consistent training.   It was not a fast time, but I ran the whole 13.1 miles.   Last Friday was the walk-a-thon at my kids’ school and I volunteer to walk with kindergarten.   It was a rough half-mile course of shame.   I was out of breath and unable to keep up with energetic six-year-olds.   It is amazing what a year can do, or in this case, undo.     A combination of nursing school, a harsh winter, and comfort eating has left me overweight, sluggish, and low on energy.    This is not a situation I intended to be in and yet this is exactly where I find myself. Over the past year, I have thought a lot about food.   On Monday I heard a new thought referenced to Martin Luther King Jr.’s daughter – access to and consuming healthy food is an act of nonviolence. ...

My six-year-old daughter is teaching me a lot these days (and giving me gray hair!)   If you asked her if she were loved, she is likely to tell you “No.   I have a terrible life and people are mean to me.   I do not like being me.”   She may also include that I am mean to her and not her siblings because I do not allow her to have her way and sometimes she has to wait for others to do some activity.   If you were to watch her interact at school, or really anywhere other than home, you would see a smart, kind, creative, happy little girl.   The thoughts she carries deep in her brain are so incongruent with the life she lives. The therapist in me sees warning signs for a future of depression and anxiety.   The mom in me is heartbroken that she truly has a difficulty seeing herself as loved.   If she were not my child, I would wonder what type of home environment was feeding these thoughts.   We are not a perfect family.   I a...

It is a new year.    Like most people, I made up my resolutions and goals for the year.   Unlike previous years, I have them posted on the refrigerator as a constant reminder staring at me.   And to not get so overwhelmed, I have my weekly goals taped next to my bathroom sink – small goals working toward the larger goals.   Backing up these goals is my word of the year, “BALANCE.”   This is my year of balance.   I have a history of making goals that are so extreme that I cannot possibly achieve them, or if I could achieve them it comes at a sacrifice for other more worthy efforts.    Behind balance is another word, fulfillment.    This has been a rough Indiana weather week.   Snow, subzero temps leading to being cooped up in the house for a few days.   I have not worked in nearly three weeks and my kids have yet to return to school (today is the magic day back!)   I spent the last week doing NOTHING.   ...