A dear friend and faithful reader told me she'd love to read more on our faith journey. We are in a painful moment still with the close of our church plant, the wound is sore and I can feel the aperture on my heart close. How do I fight this?
-by reading stories of spiritual heroes to my kids: Jesus' miracles, Esther, Hannah, St. Vincent de Paul
-by reading and meditating on spiritual heroes myself: Henri Nouwen, Anne Lamott, my parents, St. Paul, Job
-the soothing ritual of noon Mass. (Calliope got to have parts of the Mass narrated by our friend Marta who described the beginning of the Liturgy of the Eucharist as "setting the table." Marta, it was beautiful and she will never forget this, thank you!)
-enjoying myself ignore the compulsion to evangelize. Maybe that one sounds bad but I am beginning to unteach myself the notion of bringing people to Church, and convincing them of faith in God. While I know that God wants me to share my faith, I will no longer manipulate folks into seeing things my way or exclude them when they don't.
-retreat. Jack Miller was a missionary who realized that he let his own pride rule his life. He took a break from his work. He let his soul get healed. And the result was a much more meaningful return to his work, to his faith. I admire this.
-by laughing a lot. A week ago right now, I was in Pittsburgh in the company of my roommates from college. We could laugh about ourselves and our assumptions in a safe way. I found I could take myself less seriously when in the company of friends who understand how serious I am.
-by hiding in the bosom of family. We rode up to Kutztown to watch the first member of our family to play college sports, our neice Luci, who will play both soccer and basketball for her college. I sat on a blanket with my sister, my mother, my sis-in-love, and our kids. It felt very secure to be there. Even taking our daughters to the bathroom at dinner, I liked standing in the mirror with my sis. Her journey so similar to mine, she totally gets this rough period--the one where it feels like you wasted so much time reading about "two-plus" evangelism and driving over our AC/DC cassettes with the Toyota.
-Also I pray a lot. This keeps my heart soft. During a yoga class, in Child's pose, I am prostrate and praying "Let me hide myself in thee." And in "Happy Baby" pose praying, "I will not rest until I rest in you." And in the opening heart poses, "Open the eyes of my heart, Lord (Calliope's favorite song).
Okay, so I 've just listed my best moments. Most of the time, my mental mode is mad at the mismanagement and leadership mistakes. I feel chewed up and spit out by churches run like businesses, churches that package and market themselves, I shake fist at all of it, I have had my fill.
-by reading stories of spiritual heroes to my kids: Jesus' miracles, Esther, Hannah, St. Vincent de Paul
-by reading and meditating on spiritual heroes myself: Henri Nouwen, Anne Lamott, my parents, St. Paul, Job
-the soothing ritual of noon Mass. (Calliope got to have parts of the Mass narrated by our friend Marta who described the beginning of the Liturgy of the Eucharist as "setting the table." Marta, it was beautiful and she will never forget this, thank you!)
-enjoying myself ignore the compulsion to evangelize. Maybe that one sounds bad but I am beginning to unteach myself the notion of bringing people to Church, and convincing them of faith in God. While I know that God wants me to share my faith, I will no longer manipulate folks into seeing things my way or exclude them when they don't.
-retreat. Jack Miller was a missionary who realized that he let his own pride rule his life. He took a break from his work. He let his soul get healed. And the result was a much more meaningful return to his work, to his faith. I admire this.
-by laughing a lot. A week ago right now, I was in Pittsburgh in the company of my roommates from college. We could laugh about ourselves and our assumptions in a safe way. I found I could take myself less seriously when in the company of friends who understand how serious I am.
-by hiding in the bosom of family. We rode up to Kutztown to watch the first member of our family to play college sports, our neice Luci, who will play both soccer and basketball for her college. I sat on a blanket with my sister, my mother, my sis-in-love, and our kids. It felt very secure to be there. Even taking our daughters to the bathroom at dinner, I liked standing in the mirror with my sis. Her journey so similar to mine, she totally gets this rough period--the one where it feels like you wasted so much time reading about "two-plus" evangelism and driving over our AC/DC cassettes with the Toyota.
-Also I pray a lot. This keeps my heart soft. During a yoga class, in Child's pose, I am prostrate and praying "Let me hide myself in thee." And in "Happy Baby" pose praying, "I will not rest until I rest in you." And in the opening heart poses, "Open the eyes of my heart, Lord (Calliope's favorite song).
Okay, so I 've just listed my best moments. Most of the time, my mental mode is mad at the mismanagement and leadership mistakes. I feel chewed up and spit out by churches run like businesses, churches that package and market themselves, I shake fist at all of it, I have had my fill.
posted by Maria at
7:34 PM
3 Comments:
Amen, Mia. I'm reminded of your brother who said that he felt his detour into Protestantism was in fact a crucial part of his journey to Orthodoxy. I guess God rarely leads us in straight lines, straight meaning the ones that we plot for ourselves.
One question – is your addiction to WMGK 102.9 Classic Rock a sort of atonement for crushing the AC/DC tapes? You must have turned the corner if our kids are singing in the backseat, "We roll tonight, to the guitar bite..."
Mmm... whew, just read too many blog entries at once while nursing Tessa down for a nap after church, so now my heart is too full to comment much. But wanted at least to take up then invitation into the dialogue, which is an exciting one!!
Yes. Hardly straight lines we're being led in. Perhaps barely lines, I'm hoping maybe at least I'm still being led, even if I've lost the bread crumb trail, or can't see the start of finish line, and am not sure about the "having strength for the journey".
You know the line that is said right before communion (Starts with "Lord I am not worthy to receive you...). Well, when I lived in an orphanage in Bolivia for a while, and went to daily Mass, I had most of the liturgy memorized in Spanish, and so it runs in my head sometimes. That particular line esp, which in Spanish is: "Senor, no soy digna de que entres in mi casa, pero una palabra tuya bastara para sanarme." So word for word says, I am not worthy to have you enter _into my house_, but one word from you is enough to heal me -- OR, in my wild interpretation, I don't often FEEL ready/prepared/open to having you come into my house (heart, whatever). But I'm gonna trust that it only takes one word for you to heal me of that. And that you'll say that word. And that it's enough.
[Also that I can stop worrying that both my physical and mental houses are both too messy to receive anybody!!} :)
I love watching your kids carrying up food at the collection. I was so mesmerized I forgot to look out for Sophie. Oops
Thanks for writing about this, Maria, it is healing and freeing for me.
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