Learning to Be Loved

It will take a lifetime and a “Well done my faithful one” for me to fully learn to be loved. Like most human beings - I have moments when I wholeheartedly believe I’m ensconced in love. Then the next I view myself as the worst sort of devil, unworthy of free redemption. Yet, throughout my entire life God has brought different books, music, movies, nature and people to show me differently. Sometimes it surprises me... what God uses... yet it shouldn’t at this point really. Truthfully, I love being surprised by Joy. 

Recently, a few new (to me) souls have entered my realm. All at once I found myself in an overwhelming cascade of validation and belonging. I’m astounded at how these souls fit aspects of myself I’ve been praying for years about. Spirit has often visited me through books, words, song, wisdom and intuition. During the spring I kept getting messages through health and healing to “make room”, “take steps back”, and “new friendships are forming or arriving.” Honestly, I was in constant anticipation and it was tough not to feel slightly disappointed when it felt like nothing was changing. 

For someone in anticipation, it was ironic that I ended up being blindsided when three new connections happened in the same week. Around the same time I was told I was cured of H Pylori and my extremely painful Trigeminal Neuralgia disappeared. A few more relationships deepened and occurred.  Also these connections happened because I said,”Yes” when I wanted to say, “No.” In fact, I said, “Yes” to a dancing opportunity which at first I disliked. I felt my dyspraxia showing up, so imagine my surprise when I was asked again and I found myself saying yes again. That time sealed the deal. I had a blast. I went swimming for the first time in a decade. I ventured on trips with new connections and said yes to prayer time (which I don’t often do with anyone besides my family)… I changed habits quite a bit that my mother shockingly stated, “I can’t believe you are doing this stuff! It’s a surprise.” Trips to the city, multiple dancing sessions, thrifting, karaoke, swimming, prayer coffees, movies, Just Dance parties, conversations, dress up photo shoot and a sleepover later … and I feel much MUCHIER. I feel like my old self re emerged in a new way with my current self to become fuller. Even when this  season ends (as all seasons do) I know I was changed almost instantly. My other relationships in my life were also deepened as a by product, due to the fact that I suddenly viewed friendship through a strong lens of gratitude. A few others trickled on to my path. I found myself surrounded by healing, mutual love, and joy. 

I’m still not on any social media platform. Yet, my in person times with these souls are so fulfilling. A bonus is that none of us ever have our phones out during movies or conversations, unless it is to quickly take pictures or quickly text our spouses (which is so nineties perfect with the bonus of the happy bits of technology !) 

My daughter has had a key role in this by including me in her friendships often. Which is astounding and humbling. We share friendships which can sometimes be tricky to navigate, but in general, the small costs are worth the results for both of us. 

It feels a bit like when I was in high school (which I actually generally loved.) Yet, with more experience, maturity and a grown family of my own, these friendships are a different form of that. I love being a bit older . It’s easier to feel chill when I’m left out. I have other things to do and am fine that my friends are enjoying other rich relationships that make them the people I love. I’m fine if they are friends with people who dislike me- I have faith and trust in the natural cycles of relationships. I love that in one outing alone we realized we had a 20 year old, 30 year old, 40 year old and 60 year old. We were all having a blast. Each one was a cherished part of the whole. As I age, AGE seems both less and more relevant. Our souls are ageless, but our growth and experience shapes our ability to connect. For some people that takes longer so age matters, but for others it can happen young, so in a sense age does not … 

Recently, I was in a counselling appointment and we were discussing beauty. It’s a complex subject for me. Normally my therapists tell me that I’m the model patient in the sense that I chat a lot and make their job easier. My latest counselling stated last time, “Wow in my over a decade of counselling I have never had a patient accurately state that their coping mechanisms were a combination of denial or embracing all or nothing thinking. It’s obvious you’ve done a lot of therapy.” Ha! But at the last appointment, for the first time in the 19 years I’ve been in therapy, I was quiet often and kept saying, “I actually don’t know” to certain questions. This shocked both myself and my new therapist. The final minute of our session I suddenly blurted out, “That I’m unloveable. If I’m not a certain way, in the end, I feel that I’m unloveable. I know God loves me which brings immense happiness and keeps me tethered when I would otherwise not be, but I still live in a broken world of flawed humanness and it matters when I feel like I’m unloveable by all human beings.” His eyes lit up and he stated, “If we had more time, normally I’d have you sit with that statement for awhile but now we are getting to the roots of the matter. Now you can grow, change and embrace aspects of yourself. Write about this if you can and it will be a starting point for next session. How does that make you feel?” I laughed nervously, “At a loss for words in that area and terrified but relieved my discernment still works!” For some reason I make my therapists chuckle often. It’s happened with all four of them …(yes only 4 since my first one was 16 years of therapy.)

God gave us each other. It’s complex, messy and sometimes humans cause more pain than good. Even then though, God can still redeem human mistakes. Sometimes people teach us lessons, boundaries, or what we don’t want to do in life. Sometimes, someone is in our life to shower us with love or perspective. Most of the time it’s a combination. For myself, I realized these new souls don’t make me feel judged or expect me to fit into a certain category. They shower me with undeserved compliments (that leave me baffled frankly but it’s nice too.) Nothing is based on politics, social media, my introverted self and there is not a measure on my intellect or feelings. It’s just a reciprocal sharing of laughter, joy, spirituality and fun with a sprinkle of normal relationship progression. I realized God is giving me an extra boost in this season. Partially because I asked often in prayer. Partially because Grace is given freely. Partly because timing is essential. Partially because I’m allowing it to soak in and saturate the hurting aspects of myself. I’m not a victim. I’m not the healer. I’m the flawed person learning to become the full version I will see when God gives me my new name, that will say it all, at the end of all things.

I’m used to being the pursuer and then allowing people to cycle out of my orb when I sense I’m not needed. Or when the natural order of things takes its cycle. I’m still expecting that in general. But to be actively invited often? That’s very new for me. To be thought of first? It’s rare which is ok and down mostly to personality… I don’t expect it any other way… but for this brief period, I'm being taught that it’s ok to be a little pursued. It’s ok to be wanted for something other than counsel or myself being presented a certain way. It’s ok to be fully free to be me. Normally I have to hold back my emotions, tastes or blunt remarks to a degree. I think that a normal level of self control is healthy … but for a few months I haven’t had to do that in general. And I’m still WANTED! That blows my mind. It’s been a gift. I will cherish it however long I have it. It’s also taught me about myself. It’s taught me, once again, the importance of seasons. I learned boundaries, autism, dyspraxia, chronic illness, and coping mechanisms the last decade … and now I’m learning to let go, be unboxed, flexibility, acceptance and allowing flow with an abundance of gratitude. I’m learning lessons for my other beautiful friendships from the past. I’m seeing where I’ve set myself up partially for certain outcomes.  I see where I tried to be God for someone else which was a mistake I'm forgiven for but one I needed to confess. I’m also seeing where I took less than I should have due to a false sense of duty and intellect. Which comes down to a false pride. I’m seeing that unloveable is a complex statement. Perhaps Grace expands even more fully when I allow the light. Grace is always there but maybe many of us, or at least myself, do not fully allow its encompassing healing love because we are feeding ourselves a narrative that isn’t fully true? Or we get stuck in a narrative that serves us well at a certain stage and age of our journey, so we built a house on it, instead of packing up our Gypsy travelling home to walk the richer path of life?

I still don’t have full answers for my therapist. But I know I’m in a season of learning new ways to be loved and loving others. It’s astounding. I’m so grateful. These humans all around me? Of course they can be hurtful or aggravating - it takes a brief look at everyday headlines to come to that conclusion. But when I actually ponder the humans that arrive on my doorstep? The ones I see face to face? The ones far away who email me or text? Those that are of ages spanning the age of infant hood to 89 ( my beloved grandma and grandpa)? These people sometimes astound me with their capacity to both show love and take love. If they can do these things, how much more can a perfect God? 

My year health wise was tough. I tried to honour my responsibilities and relationships during that time but it was tinged with constant distress and pain. It’s a relief to be in normal chronic illness pain again without that added intensity… and the weight lifted. I started breathing fully. Suddenly I was given shelter by new friends. I found another version of home. Yet, there is not pressure on them to stay either. I’m already grateful and know that ultimately they are a form of Christ showing me personally how I can be loved. Maybe I won’t feel it often but that anchor is always available. That shelter will be with me even if the temporary friendship shelters change. 

Thank God for love, both deserved and undeserved.

Song choice: Thank God I Do- Lauren Diagle https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wfR6XLXRNy0

Whatever Is Good

Be still and KNOW...

The pattern of fringes hanging off the table linen caught my eye. The diamond shapes were in close symmetry despite the cloth being washed numerous times already. Rainbow reflections from the sunlit crystals hanging from my windows danced over the patterns. My eyes traced the swirls imprinted above the fringe. It was not until much later that I realized I was simply absorbed in the moment. I wasn't thinking of what I needed to do, who needed my attention, or who I felt I should be. I just WAS. My heart was encompassed in stillness. I felt this unexplainable peace (that surpasses all understanding) and an indwelling of gratitude. I was immersed in a simple Holy Hallelujah. I KNEW deep down that I was more than I seemed to be. I was in Imago Dei - BEING God's Image.  

Each one of us is made in the Image of God, but it's easy to forget to REST into this fact. It feels more like a validation of our own being when we are "doing." Not to say that doing is wrong. Doing is beautiful to activate in our human form. But doing is secondary to being KNOWN and KNOWING. Ask anyone in love (not just lust) if this is true. 

Taste and see...

It used to be odd to me that the descriptor of taste is used to see that the Lord is good. Taste? Really? Taste invites most of our senses to be present. Taste is a physical knowing and a beautiful contemplative moment (if it is Go(o)d.) 

An interesting product of secret prayer (not shared) is that there is no one to witness the goodness of God. This communion instead becomes a private, sacred dance. It's a giving and receiving in a profoundly personal way that can not be fully explained outside of the moment. Much akin to the purely erotic (and not the profaned Porneia that Eros is often mistaken for) that symbolizes the joyful union of creation. Private prayer cannot be bragged upon, inflated with ego, disguised as gossip, or made to get a point across. I often wondered why Jesus was often described as "going into a quiet place" just as much as he was described as helping others. I sit in this similar contemplation and the mystical understanding underpins my confusion.

Private prayer is the being still to KNOW. It is edifying, gratitude filling, and often is both comforting and can lead to suffering. Yet, this is the kind of suffering that involves the growth of self. The falling off of old ways of ego that are not good for the self but are strangely addicting. It's the refinement of burning ashes before the Phoenix rising. This beloved mirror shows more of what we ARE instead of simple personhood. This mirror is Divine. This mirror is Imago Dei. 

Synchronicity is no longer coincidence. The fabric of existence begins to be seen on a micro level of divine threads of colours too numerous to mention. Each tiny thread has the choice and potential to walk closer to the larger Divine cohesion in a solid piece of more... or to a frayed, tattered version smaller, less muchier inclusion of that Divine. Deep down most of us want to be the whole vibrant thread but often instead, we choose to be frayed by our own doing.

Is it good? Is it noble? Is it right? Is it pure? Is it lovely? Is it admirable? Is it excellent and praiseworthy?

When the thoughts and actions we have are most of the above descriptors, an odd Presence of peace is within. That Presence is always accessible yet not often accessed. It is a JUST MERCY. A Grace freely given but often not taken.

It seems that the path of least resistance is to focus on the bad, the ugly, the injustice, the profane, the wrong, the disgusting...or if not blatantly focusing on these things, to instead bury ourselves in busyness to avoid. Instead of RUNNING to ALL THAT IS GOOD. 

Advocacy is good but not if it is done while also trying to rip other threads in the tapestry. Action is good but not if we are not recognizing the true mirror of Being first. Being informed can be a part of growing intellect but without Love, without compassion, it's just another empty state of mind. Beauty can be corrupted but why do we run from true Beauty? Why are we not eating the sunrise with our eyes or soaking up the sunset into our souls? Each day we are given little mercies in the guise of Beauty. There is no economic status, personality type, religion, family of origin, sexuality or any other set aside descriptor required to look at a blade of grass or a flake of snow and SEE a moment of intricacy...a gift shared for everyone. ( For those who can’t see there is a gift to feel - or another type of Knowing given.) 

A relationship is with a noun, a personhood, not a verb. Relationships must be put before issues. Whatever is good...think on these things. But seeing Good is almost an exercise in the paradox. It's a trained existence (ironic.) Mystical and practical blend. Becoming is a dance of the BOTH/ AND of life.

Our senses must become attuned. Often, when I think I am misunderstood, an outlier, seen as not welcome to most in my home town, or frustrated at my own daily incapability, I am in an adventure of missing the mark. Even if each of these statements own some truth at times, they are not THE Truth. I am missing the mark of Beauty. I am missing the true mirror. I am forgetting to LISTEN. When I retreat to contemplation an interesting path opens up. That path can wind through months of both agony of refinement and the joy of becoming. Books I never knew I needed show up with truths that soul sear. Seers of music, people and experience join the journey and point upwards. If I listen, I suddenly am a person who is BEING THROUGH the OTHER. Imago Dei. God THROUGH the tapestry of BEING. God encompassed in the threads woven into existence.

Whatever is GOOD. Think on these things.

Song choices: To Know Me- Lauren Diagle ( https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=cWQGJAhjFRc ) Such a gorgeous song! Moved me to a teary state 💝🥹

Thank God I Do- Lauren Diagle (  https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=wfR6XLXRNy0 ) 

 (Verses loosely quoted in this post come from: Psalms 46:10, Genesis 1:27, Genesis 1:31, Romans 1:25-28, Psalm 34:8, Phillipians 4:8-10, Mark 6:31, Luke 5:16, Matthew 1:35-39, Malachi 3:2-3, 1 Corinthians 13:1, Job 29:18, Matthew 11:28, John 20: 21- 22. Romans 15:13)

Recognized and Valued BECAUSE of One of my Worst Moments

 As I walked out the door I heard, "Wait!! I think I know you and I feel like it's significant!" She grabbed the door and I recognized her too but did not know why. We exchanged names but neither of us recognized the other. She tried again, "If it helps I teach nursing at the local college and have been a nurse for years."

"Ooooohhhhhh," I sighed, "If you worked about 15 ish years ago I practically lived at the hospital."

"Really? It must be that...but I feel like..."

And suddenly a memory came to me and I asked, "Wait. You wouldn't happen to be the nurse that held me?" And she finished my sentence, "In the hallway on the floor?" 

Before I knew what was happening she started crying and I was swept up into her arms, "You changed my nursing career! You impacted my life so fully! You left me a note and flowers stating how important that moment was to you. For years I thought of you and have used you as an example of how to follow your heart in nursing. I wasn't sure if I was crossing a line..but I felt so strongly that you needed me but I was unsure even after...and then the next day your flowers and note came to the anonymous nurse who held you...and I cried."

I was still being held by her through this whole dialogue as she was occasionally swiping her tears...to the point that I was tear filled from her expression. I have a terrible memory so it surprised me that I even thought to mention it. It has been so bad lately that I have simply given up on trying to salvage memories and instead I have prayed, "Please in the moment help me to remember what is important to other people or what is significant to share from things I should know." I'm so grateful this moment (however humiliating it was to me at the time) came to me.

"Thank you for following your heart," I sincerely stated, "I thought I was dying that night. I was so depleted from years upon years of being on IV and pain meds through horrible attacks in my abdomen and bad rashes and pain. I was constantly at the hospital and most nurses after awhile treated me poorly and attributed it to hysteria or anxiety but I could not make up the pain. The pain triggered the anxiety. Not the other way around. Years later I was diagnosed by a natural health practioneer with long term Lymes Disease (though not acknowledged by public health), Fibromyalgia from my former Doctor, multiple cycle diseases (PCOS, Andenomyosis, Endometriosis, Chronic low ferritin and Anemia) and finally Celiac. That night was my final straw because I was strung out on fentonyal (which I hated as it made me so loopy) and had been puking my guts out to the point of a little bit of blood coming out plus sitting on the toilet. I was so exhausted and desperate that I took my IV with me out into the hallway, slid down the wall and started bawling...and there you were, with your arms around me and I felt like it was an angel. Later I was appalled at my desperate drugged out behavior but you stuck with me. You gave me hope. You also changed my perspective slightly on nurses."

She gave me another hug and then her mother came around the corner, "MOM!! this is the girl! The girl that left me that note that changed my nursing career!" I recognized her mom too and she smiled, "Hi Kmarie (insert real name) I remember you. I worked as a receptionist at the hospital for years."

A part of myself shrunk inside. Of course the previous receptionist remembers me by name! I did not recall hers but she stated it and it was immediately familiar. I almost can't believe that was my life. Most of the time, if my health is brought up with new friends, it almost feels like I am lying. Because even though I struggle with energy and pain...I learned how to mostly manage my conditions to a degree. The pain attacks stopped exactly three years after my last taste of gluten. I still get them lightly if I accidently get glutened  but it is not near the same as that terrible 24-48 hours of a tight rubber band wrapped around my abdomen to the point that I could not even have a sip of water for a full day. It was absolutely hell on earth sometimes. To hear that I impacted someone in one of my worst moments was both validating and jarring.

I was at my worst on that hospital floor. I am a germaphobe by nature so the fact that I was even sitting on the Emergency room floor says something. I also am not naturally a person who likes to pubicly share my pain or be recognized while I am in a state of duress...so that fact that I was out of my room also shows my desperation. I was stinky. I was pale and shaky. I was out of it from the drugs coursing through my veins ( that did nothing to touch the pain by the way but only made time feel both longer and shorter which made everything more confusing.) I was completely vulnerable and weak...and when I arrived at the hospital one of the nurses gave me the "Oh it's you again" look and treated me with cold contempt. 

So for this nurse to say I changed her at that moment??? That truly testifies to me that sometimes when we are at our weakest, God is there to use us regardless. We are still a worthy vessel. We can still impact lives. We can still be given a different type of strength.

In all honesty, this is a tough story to tell. I was embarrassed to even show up with flowers and a card that was addressed "To the nurse on call Thursday night and the one who held me." I felt that the entire staff at the hospital was mocking me almost. I felt foolish but something in my spirit told me I needed to be acknowledge that beauty. I was taught by my Grandma, who lived in and out of the hospital with Colitis and a bowel pouch and then cancer, to treat those who help with extreme gratitude. She taught me to leave flowers for my Pharmacist, Notes for my Doctor, Christmas gifts for those who really helped me get through tough times... It was not until one of my friends was shocked that I did these things that I realized many people do not do this. And then I felt silly again.

I was between 20 and 30 when this event happened. I will be forty this year. I wish I could go back to my younger self and say, "You are legitimate in your pain. You WILL figure some of this out. You will suffer and continue to suffer with depression due to pain and energy on and off through the years. However, you will find supporters. You will find information. You will find some answers and some triggers. And believe it or not, you will not visit a hospital (besides blood tests and breaking your foot) for NINE years! You will avoid them like the plague instead of running to them! And you will find some angels on earth...

I wasn't going to the event where I met this nurse last week. I was not feeling well (again.) With chronic illness I pick my battles. My son specifically asked me to please try to be with my family...so I went. I was making a hasty exit to go lay down when this lady ran to me and held open the door as I was trying to escape. I didn't feel like talking. Yet, I have often found that in my weakest, Spirit shows up. Or that sometimes when I don't feel I have much to give, Spirit is still given. Or that sometimes someone needs me, even when I do not feel like showing up, and if I force myself to BE present, something magical happens.

Invisible Chronic illness is a tricky thing. I don't like to talk about it anymore yet it is still a huge (mostly secret) part of my life. I look like I am in the prime of health most days, besides being extremely pale for the native blood I have, but with a ferritin of two and a blood saturation of 0.13, that is to be expected. I went through a huge phase in my late twenties when I needed to blog about health constantly to work through the diagnosis process. I feel that is legitimate. Just like I feel this phase of rarely speaking about it is legitimate too. But I am grateful for a few lessons from my weakness.

1. If I have hidden things to deal with, it's easier for me to remember that everyone else has secret struggles. When I am dealing with someone I try to recall this fact.

2. In our weakness, Spirit shows up. A verse that has always been of great comfort to me has been, "Blessed are the poor in Spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven...and blessed are those that mourn for they shall be comforted." There are silver linings in struggle too.

3. Sometimes weakness allows another persons strength to shine. Sometimes our weaker moments can also later be turned into a strength.

I am not glamorizing illness. As I stated, I go through depression dealing with it on a regular basis. I find it tough not to compare. It’s hard for me not to wish I was only tired from a busy life or a bad night and not blood tired ( which sleep does not much for). Yet, I also don’t want to be a complainer or known for “ being tired.” It’s a state that I just live with. Some days it beats me, other days I try to befriend my own Being. I’m this fallen world, it is what it is… but I’m still SEEN. 

My family and I love to watch The Chosen series ( free on YouTube or the App) about the life of Jesus and his disciples. Even if one doesn’t subscribe to the faith, I would still recommend it for its historical accuracy, storylines, and beautiful sets and costumes. Anyway, in season three there is a story of the bleeding woman who I’ve  related to since puberty with my extremely heavy cycles. This woman is ostracized from her family in a time where being alone as a woman is dangerous. She is culturally considered “ unclean” due to the laws. She is anemic and exhausted from bleeding for years. As a desperate attempt she touches the hem of Jesus garment as he’s walking through a crowd on his way to visit a dying sick little girl. Jesus has an excuse to be in a hurry. (The little girl dies but he revives her later.) Instead the lady is immediately healed and Jesus stops and asks “Who touched me?” He knew, but he was giving her a chance to be SEEN and for her to use her own voice. No one, especially a man, would deem her worthy to speak to. Then he calls her “daughter.” This is not creepy but significant because her own family would not claim her due to her disease. She was unclaimed and thus, unprotected. By stating this protective title, Jesus was stating in essence “You are seen. You are worthy. You are protected. You are healed.” 

Maybe it’s ok to be seen and recognized and remembered for one of my worst moments?

I get bleary eyed each time I read that story but seeing it on screen ... I wept. I may not be healed in a huge way, but if I’m honest, I have small ways of healing. I have moments to be grateful for. I’m protected. I have loved ones. I’m valued in some of my communities. I have much more than this woman. But what we have in common is that we are SEEN in what we perceive as our wretchedness… when we are heavily bleeding and hurting and so so so tired… and we are still loved. 

May it be so. 

Song Choice  Woman at the Well (which is a different biblical story about a woman being SEEN):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JVfI1b2aK64

Making ROOM off of social media; The Beauty of BEING

The latest email from Sarah Clarkson, a favorite author of mine, stated, "My soul has been tired and harried. I knew it and tried to give myself space and grace for renewal. But I also understood that I needed to create some structure or healing for myself too. I've been off of social media because of that since Christmas Day. For the first couple of weeks or so, I felt a little disjointed at the lack of dramatic benefits in my life from my fast from social media. But three, then four weeks in, I realized that my mind really was slowing. There was a different pace to my thoughts. I found myself capable of inwardness and recollection that has been really difficult to me for many months... I'm grateful for the space I've gained in being away from social media. It's a tangled world and there's a tension there as I miss the friendships and beauty and connection of that space. I'm trying to think well, pray well about what it looks like to engage in a creative, sustainable way. I'm curious how you think about these online worlds, this tension between connection and quiet. I'm examining that much in myself these days. But also savoring the hush of this break."

My answer to Sarah's question is specific to me, but I am a firm believer that it could be beneficial for probably 80 percent of the population. I also know of others who have a moderated version of social media engagement. They go on for their business for an hour each day, or if not in business, they only allow for a timed check in once a week. Even that feels a bit harried. My answer? Two years ago around this date, I cold turkey quit. My ability to concentrate, feel peace, savour the good life, give my time to friends via text, in my home, or enjoy books, have time for renos, schooling my kids, taking time with my husband etc. all have improved drastically. The beautiful changes in my life are directly in association to how long I have been off of social media.

I miss it sometimes truthfully. Mostly the inspirational part, but I have found myself looking in my direct vision, to the people I love, and also inward for wonder and inspiration. This method is a slow drip of inspiration in comparison to a deluge, but it suits. It took the first year off to learn to sit in boredom again. Two years off, and I realize I am coming home to parts of myself that were alive as a teenager in the nineties. I actually often forget there is an entire new way of Being. When I see the rare advertisement somewhere I will often wonder, "How did they get those personal pictures of those people's lives?" Then I am jarred with the realization of the otherworld online. Where I am not. Where my opinions no longer need to be stated or circulated. Where the quick hits no longer form who I am. I call it the 'otherworld' because it is another form of living- in imagination, thought and mind. It's not all bad, but it's a new frontier, and until it learns to be more civilized, boundaried, and less self-involved, I am not fully interested. Oh there is beauty too. Of course there is! Wherever there is humanity there WILL be beauty. But I think I can find that in other ways. I am compelled by love to choose LOVE in engagement instead of from a distance. There is a difference of people knowing of what I do and being KNOWN and vice versa. 

I miss being involved sometimes. I do miss the convenience of finding book recommendations or quick hit health tips or home decor looks. I can still find those things but it's slower, and yes sometimes even a little desperate, but eventually the right book comes, or a person hooks me up with new health information, or my home ideas come from myself entirely or my personal surroundings. It took months, but I now am involved in life in an entirely old, but new way. Walks are uninterrupted, talks are slow, and my scheduling is flexible. I can make room for the people who need or ask it of me. I always loved that Christmas song, "Let every heart, prepare him room...and heaven and nature sing..." There is a reason this song is titled "Joy to the World." How can we have true depth of joy if we do not prepare room? How can we sing with nature if we are staring at a screen instead of engaging in our surroundings? If we do not make room for quiet thoughts, engage in boredom, and distance ourselves from opinions or news, our vessels become too full. There is only so much capacity of random information that a person can have before burn out happens. We were meant to MAKE, to CREATE, TO BE. We were meant for meals and laughter, heartache shared and tears, quiet contemplation watching a sunset, and finding meaning no matter the circumstances.

I realize this makes me sound irrelevant or old. Frankly I do not care. Although, I did care the first year. Occasionally, when a friend forgets about me because I am not witnessing their life conveniently on a screen, and I do not hear the baby announcement or see the pictures of the latest reno and hear about it from someone I thought was less of a friend that I thought I was, I FEEL it. But then I realize that is probably not the friendship I fully want to engage in. I suppose I have high expectations for those in my life, and for me in the lives of those around me. I want flawed human connection that involves both scheduled and drop in coffee, movies on blah evenings, a shared thought of how to better our lives, confidences whispered about hopes and dreams, and time to just BE. I live my best life when I am engaged in seasonal living. I live best taking a moment to stare at the wonder of the moon, watching the flakes of snow tuck in snuggly on to an evergreen tree or the sun bounce off of my window crystals. In relationships this transfers to taking the time to hear a friend's laugh or woes, even if I had to move some of my schedule around for game/movie/coffee night. Sometimes it means stating a different date because my husband or children need me more. Regardless the season of living ENGAGES.

Guess what? It's surprising how many beautiful souls are around us, waiting for us to take the time. I have adored getting to know those put in my path. I have been surprised by Joy. Surprised by humanity and Divinity intertwined. There is an ebb and flow of strangers, close confidantes and basic friendships that are spread out in engagement, but important in the spacing. For a few long-distance loves, casual texting, sharing pictures via email and personal videos takes longer, but I have built a trusting repertoire, like old fashioned letter writing in the new century that is enriching. It's slower than social media, but it is still using the technology in a moderate, respectful way. My friend Amy and I have never met, but it feels like she lives next door. We met on this blog, followed each other on social media, and when I went off, she texted or emailed, and sent me some of the pictures and thoughts personally. Even though it was more work. Even though it took time. She is one of my soul kindreds. My point is, there ARE friendships beyond media. 

I read recently there is an epidemic of loneliness and depression, even though our world is the most "connected" ever. Distress comes to us all. Isolation can happen in a crowd. Pain is inevitable. But some of this can be redeemed. In fact, all things can be redeemed. Often though, the beautiful redemption of life, comes after a sort of confession, or a realization of 'missing the mark.' I realized I was missing my mark by scrolling through my screen, taking on other people's thoughts and feelings instead of engaging, mulling them over, and discerning what was mine and what it is not of my being. I value Spirit. The Spirit of Life. The spirit of people. The spirit of the earth. The spirit of BEING.

Until recently, I thought contributing to the world was giving much of myself away in thought or reasoning. It's a needed stage in life but I'm happy to be in a new one. Where the cocoon of the womb of secrets is a protected space of belonging. Where rest is flexible. Where relation is flawed but true and those who I take the time for, and who take the time for me, witness the importance of BEING, instead of only being narrated to. There is a two-part dialogue where hopefully, ideally, the other person comes first, and not my words first for them to like with a quick heart of acknowledgement or respond to each and every time. 

I do not want to make any readers feel less than or wrong for their choices. Because we each must face our own behavior, identity and choices...and what works toward SPIRIT (Beauty, Joy and Grace) in one person's life, may not be right for the next person. However, this is my testament to my becoming offline. This is a secret I feel I can share. There is so much more of course. But this behavior change and how I live and what I live for, has changed so drastically. I still struggle. There is still pain and sometimes it's hard not being part of the Otherworld. Yet, the time...the slow gritty transformation, the holy fear, the respect for life... practicing PRESENCE of God and BEING...preparing ROOM, it has been a game changer for myself. Perhaps my story can also give another a reverence for their own choices and a strong respect to make a tough change? Sometimes the harder choices in life become life giving. Saying no to the social media time blocks enabled me to say yes to many in person BEINGS. I have learned to live less for myself and hopefully, ideally sometimes, I can GIVE a bit more...there is hope for so much more. 

To the Beauty of BEING and Preparing ROOM

Song choice: There is JOY to be found so :

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=-OJSZLHTk-8

I find specific country music helps me value the small, beautiful things in life ( the songs about family, children, country, nature , God… the lyrics can be fun or ridiculous or just full of the wonder of life moments…here are two of my playlists…)  I used to share an account with my daughter and make a lot of playlists on her account but then I got my own and just added to them - thus the two names on the playlists ;)

 Country Mix 2021/22
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7utmVp7TrdkPQPqQRI9CYt?si=qYIh_ey3SmitRq30GMQLtQ

90s country
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5q6EcIDLDP47RWafgb7DGe?si=bvFmhXOCTc22wlvSObJEFQ

Advent: Meaning in the Pause

 To the Souls that are intertwined on this journey:

As the snow swirls in and out, so do the people in our lives… we make room, we let go, we share, we become… in sharing our stories other stories are enlivened. 

In the advent story - there is waiting, there is pause, there is a holy hush, there is time taken to gather, to celebrate with the song of angels… 

In this age we are expected to be in "the know” for politics and world events but our minds and bodies were not made for that. Media is not God. We were made for community and solitary contemplation. We were made to create and make order. It’s those simple moments … when cinnamon orange is in the air or spiced pine and we REMEMBER. It’s the pot of chili shared with slow conversation about the delights and hardships of our lives with a few trusted souls. It’s the laugh in the board game, the song vulnerably shared, the quiet sip of coffee. 

In nature, if we pay attention and take our holy night of dark cold or humid tropical, God inspires. Creation was the first act. The first gift. Creation sings the root of why we exist. Our existence is not for our political opinions, our stances or even well intended interests nor our social media squares. What gives your soul the softened slow exhale of belonging? When do you KNOW that even in terror, there is calm, there is goodness, there is right? When do you feel the settled magic of Grace? … Follow that moment, prepare ROOM for that feeling, make intentional space for it. 

It has been said that “Life is what happens when you are busy making other plans…” I find that God is like that too… and often I am met with Jesus “on the way" to other events or plans I thought were more important. Yet, I’m learning that flexibility, saying “yes” more often than “no” has given me invaluable moments when God's Grace has shown up. I can get impatient. I can think I’m too busy to take the time for the conversation someone needs to have...but then I miss out. Again and again I’m surprised by how many miracles are in the waiting. Just like advent. I now try to keep our family schedules flexibly open enough - to prepare Him room. Because if Jesus ministered on his way to places, and took time out of his much needed rest, to heal, give food and share stories with others… why am I not? Much of his ministry was “on the way…” travelling, being interrupted, sitting at a well waiting for a drink… stopping at Martha’s home … And as a babe his long awaited birth was an exercise in waiting. 

The beauty of this season is that it’s not just about giving. It’s about receiving too. It’s as simple as receiving love. Receiving the stranger. Receiving the long lost friend. Receiving the lonely. Receiving the invitation. Receiving Living water. Accepting the gift when we may not have one to give. It’s simple. It’s that moment when the sun crests into the window and warmth seeps into the soul. May you have that this advent and holiday season. 

May you see your gifts and receive with a spirit of thanksgiving! "Who says there can't be magic when the world is in doubt? Who says there can't be joy when the lights go out?" -(Magic lyrics)

Song Choice: Magic- Lindsey Stirling featuring David Archuletta