Real life, several weeks later

Let me just say up front that I have a good life. Think I've covered that here before. I don't have to work outside the house. I'm basically healthy. My parents, though failing in health and increasingly needy, are kind to me and appreciate all I'm doing for them these days. I'm friends with my daughters and son-in-law. My husband works really hard and takes care of me generously. I live way beyond comfortably. I have the good life, the American dream.

So why does life still feel so hard?

In part, I know it's because I have time on my hands, time to think about it all. If I were hauling water from the stream and working a tiny plot of land and taking care of children and cooking over an open fire, all things I saw all over the place in Tanzania, I don't think I'd have too much time to think about internal peace.

But - I do. This is my life. I have to choose what I'm going to make of the days left to me, as much as is in my power to choose.

So then.... What will I do with those days?

Well, for one, I think I need to continue to be in touch with the emotional pain, but not to dwell in it, not to linger there, while achieving that precarious balance of not moving into denial. That's a trick, but I want to continue to see my spirit of demandingness revealed, to see how quickly I run to other gods (food? computer time? books?) that can comfort me reliably and quickly, and to repent - not just confess, but turn from the sin and move on, trusting God with the pain and for the strength to keep walking forward. Sounds really good. Will I do it?

It continues to surprise me - and it shouldn't, I don't think - how easily I'm tripped up. It has not been fun to be home since SSD. I have longed for a program to plug into so that I could comfort myself with thinking that I was at least doing something right. Nope, no program. Learning to see my sin in a whole new way, trying to find Abba's shoulder and hand to let him lead in the dance - these are elusive things. What on earth does it really look like to be open and invitational - Larry Crabb's "essence of femininity," based on scripture? I want to be that - but not in a figuring-out-the-how way. This is WAY challenging for me. So far I feel like a complete failure. I want to keep trying - without trying.... Very confusing. God is going to have to lead. But I have to cooperate, too....

I was so excited to see the counselor last week - it was his idea for me to apply to SSD - I wanted to share all the cool things I'd learned, even the shameful stuff about my new realization of sin and of the demandingness that he's always calling me on the carpet for. I hoped to hear him say, "Atta girl!" and celebrate with me and help me know (chess playing, maybe?) how to practically apply some of the concepts I'd heard. But instead, I spent the almost two hours in his office in tears (which in itself is a good thing, but no fun). We talked the entire time about other relational issues. Still about my demandingness. Still my sin. It was so disappointing. I have so far to go.

Nevertheless! I'm still encouraged that God is moving me down the road. I'm actually considering grad school options. Don't know if that's the direction in which I need to go, but it's something to explore, anyway. I'd like to trust that God will lead me, day by day, into a dance that will continue to show me his heart of love for me, that will lead to conversations that matter, that will bless his heart and allow me to bless others. It almost feels too goody two shoes to write that, but Dr. Crabb said that those desires are core to the being of everyone who really knows Jesus. I can trust that he has put those good desires in me. That stuff - what he's put deep into my heart - that's where I want to live. Please lead on, Father, Son and Spirit....

A terrible, wonderful week

So, I've been home from Colorado for a week and a half now, and I'm just getting around to writing something down about it. Sorry to those of you who've asked for updates (yes, there are actually people who read this and have asked!).

Anyway - Colorado. School of Spiritual Direction # 33 (I can't believe Larry Crabb has done 33 of these things!). So many thoughts, in no particular order:

• The other people there were amazing. Every single one of them. There were 30 students and 3 faculty, plus Larry's admin assistant, Andi, and his wife, Rachael. Andi and Rachael weren't at Glen Eyrie the entire time, but everyone else was (Andi and Rachael sort of bookended us, coming at the beginning and end). I'd forgotten that you have to be 30 to even apply to attend, so the age range was heavily middle aged. We did have two "babies" in their 30s, and one gentleman in his 70s, but most of us represented the 40s, 50s and 60s age bracket. We came from all over - two from Canada, five actually from Colorado, Washington state, the Midwest. One guy was from Phoenix, a gal came from Oklahoma. I bonded right off the bat with the only other Southern belle, Kinsey, from Alabama. We came from all sorts of faith traditions and experiences. There was no hiding with this group. Somehow, none of my masks, my facades, my false selves, worked with them. It was as if I'd been stripped naked and all my true ugliness (and beauty, though I'm taking that part by faith) showed through. And here's what blew my socks off - every last one of them treated me with complete kindness. There was no contempt. No judging. No ranking according to job status, portfolio, physical appearance, intelligence, bank balance, accomplishment. All that mattered was that we were all there for the same thing - to get closer to God's heart, and to be able to better communicate that heart to others. If heaven is even a little like that week of community, I can't wait to get there. Oh, oh for a community like that in my back yard! Of course it was surreal. We'd all stepped out of our real lives for the week. We barely had any free time, so it was intense fellowship around common subject matter, meals, even snacks. But it was so GOOD. It was terrifying and yet so freeing to feel so known - and safe. Don't know that I have often, if ever, experienced that before. I miss my new friends. A lot.
• 
  I'd gone expecting to be trained in how to have "conversations that matter." I'd hoped to come home better equipped to listen well when chatting with friends and to be able to ask insightful questions that would, if not lead the conversation in an overtly spiritual direction, at least lead into a meaningful, heart connection. Well - the week was never designed to be about technique. We did, in fact, receive a lovely 141 page manual that we actually glanced at a couple of times. What did happen: We had intensive meetings morning and evening, during which Dr. Crabb taught. Every morning started with worship, led by the students, and then Dr. Crabb shared a devotional. He spent the week teaching us out of the 21 verses that make up Obadiah, with a light-hearted break midweek for a survey of Job. I cringed when I heard we were going to spend a week in Obadiah. But surprise, surprise - I love that little book now (and actually feel like I have, for the first time ever, a cursory understanding of what God was up to in Job. Thank you so much, Larry Crabb!). Afternoons were spent either in a one-on-one spiritual direction time with one of the faculty members (many students left these sessions reeling) or in triads, our assigned threesomes for working through class assignments. We had a short break in the action before dinner and the evening session. Whew.
• And as for the content? It was spectacular. Much of it is encapsulated in Dr. Crabb's latest book, Real Church, which he kindly gifted each of us with on the opening night. What I learned in a nutshell: God is holy, and I am not (okay, duh, but I needed that reminder!). What I want most in life, as a Christian, is relationship with God, and that's what he wants for me, too. And he's going to do everything in his power to help me get into the dance with all three persons of the Trinity. "Everything" would include driving out the sin in my life - to put it in Obadiahan terms, crushing Edom in me - but it's because he loves me. He loves me! He wants me to dance! My sin grieves him much more than angers him - he's angry at the sin and its effects, but he grieves over the roadblock in relationship that the sin in me causes. And the other stuff I get so hung up on, like a great marriage, perfect family, health, etc. etc. etc.? All good, legitimate desires - but they are second things. If I concentrate on them and try my darndest to make those things happen, God is love-bound to block me - because the first thing, the thing I want most in my heart of hearts (even when I'm not in touch with it) and the thing he wants for me, too, is to dance with him, to enjoy him, to relate to him. In pain and in the good times. In Ecclesiastes days, in Job days, and in the moments of Song of Solomon joy.
• All this led to a day by day deepening conviction of how much I've grieved the Godhead, how stubbornly I've been committed to telling God to get with my program, to follow my script. By midweek I was sharing this with my triad; one of my wise new friends suggested that I needed to "make room for repentance." Yeah, that's good. And yeah, I did, and do. What was extra fun about this - it did not feel burdensome. As Romans 8 says, there really wasn't any sense of condemnation! Just an invitation to relationship and to get the blockage (my sin) out of the way. Wow. Freedom.
• Larry Crabb is brilliant. His books don't begin to scratch the surface of how brilliant he is. I do think he handled scripture with more familiarity and expertise than any teacher I've ever sat under, and, as I've been a professional Christian for most of my adult life and have run in ministry circles since 1979, I've sat under some pretty high profile people. Dr. Crabb (who insisted we call him Larry) can quote most, I think, of the bible, complete w/ references. He can also quote just about every Christian classic from the Desert Father days up through Philip Yancey (who is one of his good friends, and though he will mention knowing this or that "star" Christian for story sake, it never came across as name-dropping). I confess I never quite got over my fear of Dr. Crabb. His wife is the definition of cute, adorable, approachable; Larry is by his own admission a little on the cranky side. Pair that with brilliant, and I retreat into self-protection (which I now know is - relational sin!). I wish I'd availed myself of more opportunities to interact with him. My bad.
• I didn't have any great epiphanies; I came home to the same messes I'd left behind when I went away. My triad mates, who got to know me better than anyone while I was there, are cheering for me to tear down, or at least poke holes in, the "white-washed wall" of self-protection I've built around myself. Or, to put it in Dr. Crabb's terminology, to jump off the cliff of safety into the unknown, with only the rope of God's love to save me - I'll only know it will save me if I jump and test its strength - AND - the rope, though it will hold me, might still let me crash into the wall as I tumble.... Pain avoidance is not his goal for me. Trusting his heart is.
• Dr. Crabb also advised us to "crucify the how." To continue to try to figure out steps A, B, C, etc. is to move out of the dance and into chess-playing with God; it's trying to guess his next move and tailor mine accordingly. So - I have no idea, really, what it would look like to tear down that wall, to make that leap. I might have an inkling of a better idea about those meaningful conversations, but not much. I'm learning to believe that the mystery is good. I want to rest in God's arms and let him lead the dance. It's very counterintuitive after all these years of trying to work the program (whatever my current program was at any given time). But I want to rest. Even in pain.

Well, there's more. But I know this is way more than most would ever wade through. Maybe I can squeeze in some time tomorrow for thoughts on femininity and masculinity (the class times on those topics completely rocked me), and on how phenomenal it was to watch Dr. Crabb lovingly pursue hearts in class; it was like observing, maybe, a kind surgeon at work. So beautiful, so heartbreaking, so cleansing, so freeing. And there's still more....

What an incredible privilege it was to be there. How thankful I am to know God continues to crush Edom in me, to invite me to dance, to pursue me. I want to make that room for repentance. I want to dance! And I want to draw others into the circle, too

Anticipation

When I was growing up, the singer/songwriter Carly Simon hit the top of the charts with Anticipation. The lyrics in part say, "We can never know about the days to come/But we think about them anyway/And I wonder if I'm really with you now/Or just chasing after some finer day."

I'm in Colorado today; an ice storm is swirling outside, there are big horn sheep grazing on the lawn and turkeys parading by my window. The rock formations outside my window are stupendous. I'm loving being in this moment.

But I'm also filled with anticipation.

I am attending the School of Spiritual Direction this week, led by Larry Crabb and his staff from New Way Ministries. The unease I felt before arriving yesterday has already been replaced with a sense of comfortableness. I'm not exactly relaxed, but our group of 30 students has already been pretty open about their own brokenness. I'm in a company of fellow seekers.

The material is daunting in volume and depth. It's going to require a lot of thought, contemplation, and willingness to have ugly - and beautiful - things that lie beneath my surface exposed, to me and to others. The feeling I have, though, is anticipation more than apprehension. This is why I'm here. I want to continue to go deeper with Jesus; I want to get my eyes off myself and on him. It's quite a privilege to be here. I want to maximize the opportunity. So I anticipate God using this week to continue his good work in my classmates and me.

Larry has chosen to make the book of Obadiah our devotional material for the week. I must confess I wasn't too excited when he announced that to our class last night. I rather dutifully searched for, and eventually found and read, Obadiah this morning, and I was surprised, actually, when God began to show me some things - good things - about himself, and about his relationship with me, in this very short Old Testament book.

Obadiah is the shortest book in the Old Testament, only 21 verses. It's the prophecy Obadiah gave to Judah about God's coming destruction of the nation Edom. On first blush, God seems like a very angry, destructive, cruel despot (at least if you're looking at it from Edom's perspective). I didn't particularly like the picture of God that was presented. God makes it very clear that he's going to completely wipe out Edom because of its treatment of Judah.

As I pondered that a bit, I thought (the Holy Spirit prodding?) of how, one day, God will completely destroy my enemies. Not the people who are pebbles in my shoes. No, the powers and principalities that war against my constantly in the heavenlies, who whisper lies to me, who work together with my flesh and the world to deceive me and destroy me. Their destruction is assured. For now, they're defeated, and I can walk in the victory that Jesus has already won for me. I anticipate both the day I am free from their presence and walking in more and more victory until that day.

Larry unpacked a little of Obadiah for us to start our day. One observation as we skimmed the surface of this little book is what Edom represents - the sin that is within each of us. God wants it completely destroyed. And why? At least in part it's because he loves us, he desires relationship with us, he wants joy for us. Sin blocks all that.

I'm anticipating leaving here more aware of my own proclivities to sin, more aware of what tends to trip me up, more equipped to be a good friend and spiritual director to others. I don't have any aspirations to try to fix anyone. I do anticipate being a better friend, wife, mom, and daughter as a result of my time here.

The book of Obadiah ends with God enthroned as King. I very much anticipate the day when Jesus is acknowledged as the King he is, when every knee will bow and every tongue confess that he is Lord.

Carly says, rightly, that we don't know about the days to come. We don't know much about what the future holds. But there are some things we do know - that God is good, even when it doesn't match our definition of good; that his plans will be accomplished, including his work in us; that he will eventually crush all his (and our) enemies; and that his goodness, holiness, royalty - all that he is - will one day be revealed.

I'm not as fully "with (God)" as I'd like to be and as I hope to be in future days. I am thankful to know that I do have finer days coming, ones that are worth chasing after, ones that are worthy of anticipation.

BTW

I think (maybe?) I can write without subtly, or not so subtly, trashing anyone. It feels like God has shifted some things in me internally in the past month; I've been realizing some things about dashed hopes, friendship, expectations, assumptions - things that have been keeping me at a stalemate. I'm repenting the depth of self-absorption and its cost to others. So - I hope to be able to write - I'm enjoying writing, and kind of usually have a mental blog going on - and can write but not damage. If anyone is still reading, you can let me know if I overstep boundaries.

I do indeed need an editor. Feel free to take on the job -

GoD and DoG

Laura and I volunteered for the first time today at Adopt a Golden Atlanta's monthly adoption day. It was a lot of fun; it was rewarding seeing some dogs go home to new "forever homes;" it was heartbreaking seeing so many dogs that don't yet have their forever homes. There were 46 Goldens and Great Pyrenees, all big balls of easygoing fluff that just want to love and be loved. I can actually emotionally handle working with this group since none of the as-yet-unadopted dogs goes to a kill shelter. Those who haven't been chosen yet go home with foster parents that love on them and care for them until they're placed.

It's no accident, I'm sure, that Laura brought Luke home to live with us just about exactly when God began unraveling me a couple of years ago. Strange though it is, I think I've learned, at least experientially, more about the tender, unconditional love of the Father from Luke than from anything or anyone else in my life. Wendy Francisco, who composed, illustrated and animated GoD and DoG, must have a dog like Luke.

I'm so grateful to God for using this warm, furry, laughing and tangible canine to show me a part of his ineffable self. It's a privilege to honor his creativity in digging through my defenses and reaching my heart by helping other dogs like Luke find love, too.

Glory, Glory

Well, it's a fall Saturday. For most of my life, a Saturday in the fall has meant college football, most specifically UGA football. One of my childhood memories is hearing the incomparable Larry Munson call the play by play for Georgia games as my dad worked in the yard with his transistor radio blaring from the driveway. I received Bulldog keychains in my Christmas stockings, brass Bulldog paperweights, Bulldog this, Bulldog that. I was raised, well and truly, to be a Dawg.

When I was a teenager, I dated a boy whose burning desire was to attend the University of Georgia. I didn't seriously consider any other colleges, either, not only because I'd been indoctrinated as a Bulldog, but in large measure because I followed the boyfriend...but that's another story. The boyfriend was a big, big, big sports fan, not just of UGA football. I learned a lot about sports during the seven years we spent together.

Four of those years were indeed spent at the University of Georgia, and some of my fondest college memories are of cheering madly at games each fall. I only missed one home game in those four years, when I served as a bridesmaid for a high school friend who made the grave mistake of attending Auburn (ptth! pttth!). Just a couple of seasons after I graduated from Georgia, Herschel Walker became a Dawg, eventually leading the team to a national championship and garnering himself a Heisman before jumping ship to the brand-new USFL (and breaking hearts, including mine, in the process). And for most of the years since then, I've been elated or crushed at the end of each Georgia football game.

We actually scored season tickets a few years back, when Sarah was a UGA student. Interestingly enough, that experience removed some of the luster for me. I was a bit appalled by the mass hysteria that accompanied the games - almost as if 90,000+ people had come to worship these college boys playing a child's game. It was a little scary.

But I also learned that it's not nearly so much fun to go to a game if you're going with someone who's not as enthralled with your team as you are. I've learned that, for me, most of the fun of college football is wrapped up in - community.

Maybe it's because I never played the game. I just don't appreciate too much about a football game on its own merits. I have certainly learned enough through the years to watch and cheer - or boo - intelligently.

But Georgia's playing on TV right now, and I'm not at all interested in watching. I was thinking about that as I walked and chatted with Abba today, thinking I probably wouldn't watch tonight's game and why was that? and he suggested to me that it tied in with the book I'm reading, Connecting by Larry Crabb. Crabb, a Christian psychologist, had an epiphany in the late 90's, and suggested that garden variety Christians should be the ones to do for each other what we most often pay people (psychologists, psychiatrists, counselors) to do for us. If we appropriate all that we have now that Jesus lives in us, we can often be as helpful to each other as the paid professionals. He wrote a whole book about it; I'm not going to explain it all here.

The point as relates to football and my enjoyment of it was that whole idea of community. I've loved UGA football through the years because I was sharing it with someone - my dad, my boyfriend, my sorority sisters, my classmates, my daughter. That's what makes it fun for me. We're on the same team, even if we've never played a down in our lives. It's just not fun to me to watch alone, or to watch with someone who really doesn't care about my team.

The bigger issue is that I desperately want community. I want to be a part of something bigger than myself, something that matters, something that forms connection with others. I want to worship, too. I want to join with others in a common cause. I want to be joined and woven together with those who care about the things I care about.

So I'll check the score tonight from time to time (it wasn't looking good a few minutes ago - this might be a long, hard season for Dawg fans), but I'm going to go back to my book and read about connecting, connecting with much bigger ramifications than a conference title or national championship. I'll always enjoy a college game when I have the chance to cheer alongside others who sport the red and black. But my enthusiasm for the game is tempered by understanding that it's representative of something my heart longs for, something that it can't deliver, something I won't fully experience in this lifetime. I'm going to keep searching for, working for, praying for, true community, for that taste of heaven that can be had this side of eternity. In the meantime -

Go Dawgs! Sic 'em! Woof Woof Woof....

What a girl wants

NOT already breaking my silence! But this is just too good to pass up. Christina Aguilera has it all wrong; this is REALLY what a girl wants: http://twobellababies.blogspot.com/2009/08/date-with-daddy.html

Ella is one blessed little girl.