As I have previously mentioned, I had some pretty rough days in grad school. I also had some pretty great days, a lot of fairly neutral days, and a handful of days that were both wonderful and terrible. It was pretty much a five-year rollercoaster.
At the end of my first year, I had my final meeting with my supervisor, a wonderful woman whom I continue to admire, both professionally and personally. We were talking about the end of the school year and how I would be spending my summer. I told her, probably for the first time, how difficult that year had been for me, and how tired and drained I felt. We talked for awhile, and then she asked me how I planned on taking care of myself that summer.
I don’t think anyone had asked me that question before, certainly not so directly. I had lived with the assumption that we pretty much always take care of ourselves. I showered and got dressed every morning, brushed my teeth and paid my bills, stayed well-fed and met my obligations. Isn’t that how you take care of yourself? Turns out there’s more to it than that.
These days I frequently ask people how they take care of themselves, and I’m usually met with one of two responses. The first is a blank stare, one fairly identical to the one that my supervisor got from me. The second response is an argument, that self-care is self-ish. The arguments usually come from people who adamantly insist that we are called to love others more than ourselves and look to the needs of others, not to our own needs
And I agree. Kind of. Luke 10:27 tells us that the greatest commandments are, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” Over and over again we are presented with instructions to love others as we love ourselves. And part of being able to love others well involves caring for ourselves. When you are tired, cranky, hungry, and overwhelmed, you have less to offer those around you. When you are out of touch with your heart it is very hard to be connected to the heart of another.
Even more significantly, I have found that we tend to treat others with about the same kindness, gentleness, and compassion with which we are treating ourselves. When we are demanding, judgmental, and harsh with ourselves it spills out into our attitudes and behaviors towards others. The other day I was bemoaning the inconsistency of my toddler to a friend, expressing frustration that the circumstances were the same, but his mood and attitude were totally different. Why was he easy and happy one Thursday and throwing temper tantrums the next, when the daily routine looked identical? She asked me if I was feeling any different, and the truth was that I was feeling very different. I was feeling anxious and overwhelmed, and this was spilling out onto my son. He was responding to my inner state. When we are caring for ourselves and our physical, emotional, and spiritual needs, we can much better care for others.
It is important to add that there are times when you must overlook your own needs or desires to care for someone well. When your newborn baby is screaming to be fed and you need a shower and some food, you may have to put your needs on hold. When a friend is hurting and needs your presence, it is important to be there for them. But, these are temporary situations, not permanent ways of being. If you look at the gospels, Jesus frequently took time away, quiet time by himself. If He saw this as a priority, I believe we should too.
So, how do you take care of yourself? First of all, look at the basics. Are you eating? Are you sleeping? Are you getting physical activity? Are you actively pursuing connection with God? These are some of the most important things we can do to stay healthy and happy, and yet they are often the first things that go. I know that it can be hard, that the demands of life can make it seem impossible to get a good night’s sleep, let alone find time to exercise or stay spiritually connected. Fight to make these things a priority. Be creative in implementation. Perhaps you cannot find an hour to go to the gym, but pushing a stroller up a hill certainly counts as physical activity. Perhaps you can’t find an hour to spend in solitary prayer, but the honest prayers lifted up while pulling out of the driveway can be just as significant.
Then, look for little ways you can take care of yourself in the midst of every day. Does lighting a candle bring you joy? Turning on a favorite CD? Watching the occasional really, really bad reality television show? These activities can be restoring, particularly when you intentionally label them as ways to invest in your well-being.
And finally, look for big ways you can take care of yourself every once in awhile. Maybe you and your spouse can’t get away together every month, but you can make it a priority once a year. Maybe you can’t have a “girl’s night out” every week, but you can once a month. These special events can help refresh your spirit and enable you to better love and care for others.
I believe that caring for yourself well can be a loving and socially responsible act. It can connect you to yourself and to God, and give you the energy and endurance that you need to love others well. How will you take care of yourself this week?
Monday, February 28, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
Gratitude
It’s another gray and cold February day in Vermont. There have been snow flakes falling off and on, and I hear we may get a few inches of accumulation at some point this week. We had a few warm days, and much of the snow has melted, but there is still a solid, icy covering that is now dirty and brown. It’s not pretty. For people who are hurting and struggling, the bitter wind and gray sky seem to echo an inner pain and desperation. It can be hard to find joy on days like this.
What do you do when you are struggling to find joy? When the days feel gray and bleak and bitter? Most of us are quick to turn to self-pity and distractions. We are quick to spend our time ruminating on why our life is so hard, on what is weighing us down. Then, to avoid these unpleasantries, we flee to any distraction we can find, be it in busyness, television, exercise, gossip, sports, drinking, or whatever else takes our mind off the pain.
It seems silly to call this the easy way, since nothing about the path of pity and distraction feels easy. There is another path, a way that requires more effort but is infinitely more rewarding. It is the way of gratitude. Brother David Steindel-Rast said, “The root of joy is gratefulness…It is not joy that makes us grateful; it is gratitude that makes us joyful.”
In his brilliant book Ruthless Trust, Brennan Manning writes about the Way of Gratitude. He writes, “It is simply not possible to be simultaneously grateful and resentful or full of self-pity.” There is no doubt that life is hard; at times almost unbearably so. There is no doubt that we need kindness, compassion, grace, and gentleness for ourselves and others. And there is no doubt that choosing a life of gratitude can bring us joy alongside the excruciating pain and teach us to live with the kindness, compassion, grace, and gentleness we so desperately need.
So how do you cultivate a spirit of gratitude? How do you make that choice on a day when it is hard to find much to feel grateful for? First, I believe that gratitude, like any practice, can become a habit. The more that you work on being grateful, the more natural it becomes. I encourage you to sandwich your day in gratitude. As you are getting ready for your day, each day, mentally list 5 things about life you are grateful for. This morning my list included slippers and coffee, as well as my supportive husband. At the end of the day, each day, write down 5 things that you were grateful for about that day. There are certainly benefits to writing down what you are grateful for. You can revisit your list on particularly joyless days and recall the blessings you have been given. Plus, there is something about the act of making gratitude physical that helps it sink in at a deeper level.
Some people fall into the trap of listing the catastrophes that did not befall them that day….”I am thankful that while stuck in traffic I did not get hit by a semi.” While I am sure you are grateful for that fact, part of the exercise is being thankful for what you were given in that day. Regularly drifting into the realm of gratitude primarily for what did not happen can become a sophisticated way of complaining.
Second, you can cultivate a spirit of gratitude by striving to be alert. Keep your eyes open for things you are grateful for. A hot shower might feel particularly soothing when you can categorize it as a gift that you are thankful for. Having your spouse warm up your car for you on a cold winter morning can jump out when you are looking for things to thank him for. Alertness can increase gratitude, which in turn increases joy.
As you build the practice of gratitude, you will find there are levels of this skill. The black belt in gratitude comes when you can genuinely be grateful for the trials, hard times, and pain, because you trust the heart of God toward you. Henri Nowen described gratitude as spiritual work. He wrote, “Let’s not be afraid to look at everything that has brought us to where we are now and trust that we will soon see it in the guiding hand of a loving God.” This is the hard stuff, and it is also a clear path to joy.
We have been trying to teach my 21 month old son to say thank you. He can say the words, but he seems to struggle a bit with the procedure of it all. For example, he will say “cracker please,” and when he gets his cracker he says “you’re welcome.” Sometimes he says thank you the “correct” way, but more often than not he gets a little mixed up. But there is no doubt that he understands the concept of gratitude. Spend a few minutes of focused attention playing with him and he’s bound to hand out a few hugs and kisses. Give him his breakfast and he smiles and laughs. Sing a song and when you’re done (no matter how poorly you sang) he claps. His gratitude spills out of him as joy. And that is what I want for you, that is what I want for myself, on the days where the gray feels overwhelming.
What do you do when you are struggling to find joy? When the days feel gray and bleak and bitter? Most of us are quick to turn to self-pity and distractions. We are quick to spend our time ruminating on why our life is so hard, on what is weighing us down. Then, to avoid these unpleasantries, we flee to any distraction we can find, be it in busyness, television, exercise, gossip, sports, drinking, or whatever else takes our mind off the pain.
It seems silly to call this the easy way, since nothing about the path of pity and distraction feels easy. There is another path, a way that requires more effort but is infinitely more rewarding. It is the way of gratitude. Brother David Steindel-Rast said, “The root of joy is gratefulness…It is not joy that makes us grateful; it is gratitude that makes us joyful.”
In his brilliant book Ruthless Trust, Brennan Manning writes about the Way of Gratitude. He writes, “It is simply not possible to be simultaneously grateful and resentful or full of self-pity.” There is no doubt that life is hard; at times almost unbearably so. There is no doubt that we need kindness, compassion, grace, and gentleness for ourselves and others. And there is no doubt that choosing a life of gratitude can bring us joy alongside the excruciating pain and teach us to live with the kindness, compassion, grace, and gentleness we so desperately need.
So how do you cultivate a spirit of gratitude? How do you make that choice on a day when it is hard to find much to feel grateful for? First, I believe that gratitude, like any practice, can become a habit. The more that you work on being grateful, the more natural it becomes. I encourage you to sandwich your day in gratitude. As you are getting ready for your day, each day, mentally list 5 things about life you are grateful for. This morning my list included slippers and coffee, as well as my supportive husband. At the end of the day, each day, write down 5 things that you were grateful for about that day. There are certainly benefits to writing down what you are grateful for. You can revisit your list on particularly joyless days and recall the blessings you have been given. Plus, there is something about the act of making gratitude physical that helps it sink in at a deeper level.
Some people fall into the trap of listing the catastrophes that did not befall them that day….”I am thankful that while stuck in traffic I did not get hit by a semi.” While I am sure you are grateful for that fact, part of the exercise is being thankful for what you were given in that day. Regularly drifting into the realm of gratitude primarily for what did not happen can become a sophisticated way of complaining.
Second, you can cultivate a spirit of gratitude by striving to be alert. Keep your eyes open for things you are grateful for. A hot shower might feel particularly soothing when you can categorize it as a gift that you are thankful for. Having your spouse warm up your car for you on a cold winter morning can jump out when you are looking for things to thank him for. Alertness can increase gratitude, which in turn increases joy.
As you build the practice of gratitude, you will find there are levels of this skill. The black belt in gratitude comes when you can genuinely be grateful for the trials, hard times, and pain, because you trust the heart of God toward you. Henri Nowen described gratitude as spiritual work. He wrote, “Let’s not be afraid to look at everything that has brought us to where we are now and trust that we will soon see it in the guiding hand of a loving God.” This is the hard stuff, and it is also a clear path to joy.
We have been trying to teach my 21 month old son to say thank you. He can say the words, but he seems to struggle a bit with the procedure of it all. For example, he will say “cracker please,” and when he gets his cracker he says “you’re welcome.” Sometimes he says thank you the “correct” way, but more often than not he gets a little mixed up. But there is no doubt that he understands the concept of gratitude. Spend a few minutes of focused attention playing with him and he’s bound to hand out a few hugs and kisses. Give him his breakfast and he smiles and laughs. Sing a song and when you’re done (no matter how poorly you sang) he claps. His gratitude spills out of him as joy. And that is what I want for you, that is what I want for myself, on the days where the gray feels overwhelming.
Monday, February 14, 2011
You Are Not Alone
One of my favorite people in the world is hurting right now. I want more than anything to fix it for her. I want to undo the terrible thing that happened. I want to take all of the pain she is feeling and put it into an airplane and then watch that airplane crash into the farthest, deepest ocean. But I cannot do any of those things.
I spent a lot of time this weekend praying for my friend and thinking about how I can help her. What words of comfort can I give her, when there are no words that will fix what broke? And all my thoughts and prayers led me to this: I think the best I can do is to remind my friend that she is not alone.
Pain isolates. It fills us up, seeping like a gas into every nook and hollow of our hearts. It overwhelms us, so that the pain becomes all that we see and experience. Most of the time we can continue going through our days, driving our cars, doing our jobs, carrying on small conversations with those we interact with. But our hearts can so easily become consumed with pain that we buy into the idea that we are alone with it. It’s mano y mano, just me and the pain.
And that is a truly terrible, desperate place to be. Pain seems so much more bearable if you are not facing it alone. It can change everything to know that someone is there with you. To hear that your pain matters, that you matter. To have someone bear witness to your suffering, to carry hope for you when you cannot carry it yourself. It doesn’t take away the pain, and I’m not convinced that it even diminishes it. But it changes it in a significant way.
We all know people who are in pain. And I’m guessing that many of us have felt helpless at some point, deeply desiring to do something to help, but not knowing what that thing should be. There are a million ways that we try to help, some of them very effective. We bake meals, send flowers, write cards. And aren’t all of these attempts to cross the divide caused by pain? Aren’t all of these ways to send the message that “you are not alone.”?
There are beautiful Bible verses about God’s faithfulness, about His constant companionship. For some, hearing these verses can serve as a potent reminder that they are not alone, that they are loved by Someone bigger than the pain. And for others, the pain feels so overwhelming that it seems impossible to sense the presence of a God they cannot physically see or touch or hear. What they need is for someone to stand beside them, physically or from miles away, and to say “You are not alone. You matter and your pain matters.” They need someone to give touch and voice to the One who is there, ever-present and ever-loving. You and I can do that for those we love who are in pain.
If you know someone who is in pain, who is grieving or hurting, there are no magic words. There aren’t even “right words.” There are no simple steps to help or provide comfort. But you are not powerless. Offer your presence, your support, and your heart. Don’t just say, “you are not alone.” Show them. Be there for them and with them. Reach across the gap of pain and grab tightly to their hands.
If you are in pain, let people be there for you. Don’t believe that you are alone in it. You are not alone. Open your heart, accept support, and let someone stand beside you.
You are not alone.
I spent a lot of time this weekend praying for my friend and thinking about how I can help her. What words of comfort can I give her, when there are no words that will fix what broke? And all my thoughts and prayers led me to this: I think the best I can do is to remind my friend that she is not alone.
Pain isolates. It fills us up, seeping like a gas into every nook and hollow of our hearts. It overwhelms us, so that the pain becomes all that we see and experience. Most of the time we can continue going through our days, driving our cars, doing our jobs, carrying on small conversations with those we interact with. But our hearts can so easily become consumed with pain that we buy into the idea that we are alone with it. It’s mano y mano, just me and the pain.
And that is a truly terrible, desperate place to be. Pain seems so much more bearable if you are not facing it alone. It can change everything to know that someone is there with you. To hear that your pain matters, that you matter. To have someone bear witness to your suffering, to carry hope for you when you cannot carry it yourself. It doesn’t take away the pain, and I’m not convinced that it even diminishes it. But it changes it in a significant way.
We all know people who are in pain. And I’m guessing that many of us have felt helpless at some point, deeply desiring to do something to help, but not knowing what that thing should be. There are a million ways that we try to help, some of them very effective. We bake meals, send flowers, write cards. And aren’t all of these attempts to cross the divide caused by pain? Aren’t all of these ways to send the message that “you are not alone.”?
There are beautiful Bible verses about God’s faithfulness, about His constant companionship. For some, hearing these verses can serve as a potent reminder that they are not alone, that they are loved by Someone bigger than the pain. And for others, the pain feels so overwhelming that it seems impossible to sense the presence of a God they cannot physically see or touch or hear. What they need is for someone to stand beside them, physically or from miles away, and to say “You are not alone. You matter and your pain matters.” They need someone to give touch and voice to the One who is there, ever-present and ever-loving. You and I can do that for those we love who are in pain.
If you know someone who is in pain, who is grieving or hurting, there are no magic words. There aren’t even “right words.” There are no simple steps to help or provide comfort. But you are not powerless. Offer your presence, your support, and your heart. Don’t just say, “you are not alone.” Show them. Be there for them and with them. Reach across the gap of pain and grab tightly to their hands.
If you are in pain, let people be there for you. Don’t believe that you are alone in it. You are not alone. Open your heart, accept support, and let someone stand beside you.
You are not alone.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Without Apology
I am pretty sure that I cried every day for most of my first year of graduate school. Well, maybe I took off a few Saturdays and vacation days. However, other than that, I cried almost every day. It was a lonely and difficult season of life, and I shed a lot of tears. I’ve spent many an hour, therapy session, and journal entry reflecting on these months of my life, and I’ve learned a great deal about myself and about life from that time. One of the things that I have noticed is that I cried many, many of those tears by myself. I cried in the shower and I cried in the car. And, when I did cry in the company of others, I apologized, embarrassed of the hot tears that dared escape in the company of another.
I am definitely not alone in how I handled those tears. Since those days I have met so many people who only cry alone. When these people do cry in front of others, they always apologize. This has made me wonder why we apologize for our tears. Why do we feel ashamed and embarrassed by this honest expression of emotion?
I am sure that there are many reasons why we hold back our tears and apologize when we let them escape. I think that one of the reasons is that we forget the message of the tears. Tears tell us something. People cry because something matters to them. This is why a mother cries when holding her baby for the first time, why a young person cries when they experience heart break. It’s why we cry at weddings and funerals, when we fight and when we are afraid. Some people say that there are six core emotions: happy, sad, angry, scared, excited, and tender. I have seen people cry when experiencing each of these emotions. The tears tell us that something is happening in our hearts, and that always matters.
Some people argue that sometimes they just cry; it’s not a big deal. Or, they cry over a “little thing” and apologize because the trigger for the tears does not seem worth the tears. But the tears are still telling us something important. They are telling us that something is happening in our hearts that needs attention. Your heart is vitally important. Proverbs 4:23 says, “Above all else guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.” If something is happening in your heart, it is crucial to attend to it. Say that you find yourself getting tearful because you cannot find your shoe. Normally this would not even phase you, and so you brush the tears away, look for the shoe, and go on with your day. Later the cashier at the store will not accept the merchandise you want to return. Once again, the tears threaten. You hold them in again and start to label yourself as “overly emotional” or “dramatic.”
Now choosing to restrain your tears while standing at the Customer Service desk at WalMart is probably a good idea. Dismissing these tears is not. These tears are an indication that something is happening in your heart. Perhaps they serve as a reminder that you are in the middle of a difficult emotional time; maybe you are grieving a loss or anxious about an upcoming transition. Or maybe nothing of great magnitude is happening, but you are feeling overwhelmed with life and physically exhausted. Either way, something is going on in your heart, something you need to pay attention to, understand, and respond to.
Another reason that I see people apologize for tears is that they fear the response of others. What if their tears make someone else uncomfortable? What if their friend does not know how to handle the tears? What if people think they are being overdramatic, or label them as needy? And I cannot deny it; these are real risks. However, there are also real risks inherent in closing off your heart and choosing not to share what is going on. If you hole up, isolate your heart, and hide your true self and true emotions, you may find yourself locked up in a prison of your own making. If you shut off your tears often enough, they will stop flowing, and your heart will harden. This is no way to live. You can only claim responsibility for your own choices, actions, and judgments. You can choose to live with an honest and vulnerable integrity, risking judgment because you believe that intimacy and community are worth the risks.
I am sure that there are many, many reasons why people hold in their tears and apologize for them. And I know that there are times when holding in tears is the wisest, best decision. There is a time and a place for everything.
Yes, for everything, even tears. Letting those tears fall and sharing them with someone else can lead to healing. It can show us how to care for and nurture our own hearts and the hearts of those we love. It can deepen relationship and lead to encouragement and hope. So the next time the tears threaten like a thundercloud and the time and place feel worth the risk, take it. Let the tears fall without apology.
I am definitely not alone in how I handled those tears. Since those days I have met so many people who only cry alone. When these people do cry in front of others, they always apologize. This has made me wonder why we apologize for our tears. Why do we feel ashamed and embarrassed by this honest expression of emotion?
I am sure that there are many reasons why we hold back our tears and apologize when we let them escape. I think that one of the reasons is that we forget the message of the tears. Tears tell us something. People cry because something matters to them. This is why a mother cries when holding her baby for the first time, why a young person cries when they experience heart break. It’s why we cry at weddings and funerals, when we fight and when we are afraid. Some people say that there are six core emotions: happy, sad, angry, scared, excited, and tender. I have seen people cry when experiencing each of these emotions. The tears tell us that something is happening in our hearts, and that always matters.
Some people argue that sometimes they just cry; it’s not a big deal. Or, they cry over a “little thing” and apologize because the trigger for the tears does not seem worth the tears. But the tears are still telling us something important. They are telling us that something is happening in our hearts that needs attention. Your heart is vitally important. Proverbs 4:23 says, “Above all else guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.” If something is happening in your heart, it is crucial to attend to it. Say that you find yourself getting tearful because you cannot find your shoe. Normally this would not even phase you, and so you brush the tears away, look for the shoe, and go on with your day. Later the cashier at the store will not accept the merchandise you want to return. Once again, the tears threaten. You hold them in again and start to label yourself as “overly emotional” or “dramatic.”
Now choosing to restrain your tears while standing at the Customer Service desk at WalMart is probably a good idea. Dismissing these tears is not. These tears are an indication that something is happening in your heart. Perhaps they serve as a reminder that you are in the middle of a difficult emotional time; maybe you are grieving a loss or anxious about an upcoming transition. Or maybe nothing of great magnitude is happening, but you are feeling overwhelmed with life and physically exhausted. Either way, something is going on in your heart, something you need to pay attention to, understand, and respond to.
Another reason that I see people apologize for tears is that they fear the response of others. What if their tears make someone else uncomfortable? What if their friend does not know how to handle the tears? What if people think they are being overdramatic, or label them as needy? And I cannot deny it; these are real risks. However, there are also real risks inherent in closing off your heart and choosing not to share what is going on. If you hole up, isolate your heart, and hide your true self and true emotions, you may find yourself locked up in a prison of your own making. If you shut off your tears often enough, they will stop flowing, and your heart will harden. This is no way to live. You can only claim responsibility for your own choices, actions, and judgments. You can choose to live with an honest and vulnerable integrity, risking judgment because you believe that intimacy and community are worth the risks.
I am sure that there are many, many reasons why people hold in their tears and apologize for them. And I know that there are times when holding in tears is the wisest, best decision. There is a time and a place for everything.
Yes, for everything, even tears. Letting those tears fall and sharing them with someone else can lead to healing. It can show us how to care for and nurture our own hearts and the hearts of those we love. It can deepen relationship and lead to encouragement and hope. So the next time the tears threaten like a thundercloud and the time and place feel worth the risk, take it. Let the tears fall without apology.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Little Things
Last Thursday I could not get my toddler to put his pants on. He wanted to run around in his diaper, socks, and shirt. I wanted him to wear the pants. It is the end of January in Vermont, and it’s cold. I refused to wrestle with him; he refused to let me put them on without a struggle. It was not a good moment, and I ended up in tears. The thing is that it wasn’t just his rejection of the pants. On most days, this would be a minor issue. It was the cumulative effect of a number of teeny, tiny little things that added up.
Isn’t that how it often is? It’s the little things that make you cranky, that weigh you down, that leave you feeling like you are dragging a bag of rocks behind you. These are the things that lead to tears, harsh words, and emotional meltdowns.
I have watched people walk through trials and impossibly difficult seasons, live through trauma and tragedy. These times are excruciatingly hard and undeniably painful. Support and care is essential, and many times a community will gather around the person who is suffering. There are times when these experiences leave their own battle wounds, and there are times when the person who is suffering walks out stronger and more sure than ever before.
But there is a different kind of pain and struggle that comes from the little injuries of daily life. Sleepless nights with a young child, ugly words spoken in the context of a loving relationship, rain that leaves the hems of your pants wet for hours, being left out of a social engagement you badly want to be a to be a part of. These are minor issues, yet they add up and leave their own battle wounds. These are the little pains that leave us dull and burdened, dragging through a life we would rather explode through.
Someone once told me that these little burdens added up to a “slow death.” If that is true, than I believe there is also another, brighter side to the coin. If the small pains have the power to slowly seep the life out of us, than I believe that the small joys also hold great power. If it is the little things that can ruin a day, than it is the little things that can help redeem it.
Luke 12:6-7 says, “Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.” I had my hair cut yesterday, and the floor was quickly covered in clippings. If God says that He has each of those hairs numbered, that He knows which ones were cut and which ones I lost in the shower this morning, then I wholeheartedly believe that He is in all the details, in all the little things.
I believe that He is in the perfectly warm morning cup of coffee, the sun shining through the icy tree branches, and the soft burning of the wood stove. I believe He is in the unexpected phone call from a friend, in the snuggle from a child, and in the crisp freshness of clean sheets. I believe He is in each of the beautiful, comforting, and pleasant moments that sneak into even the most challenging of days. And I believe that in all of these teeny, tiny little moments He is reminding us of His love and His goodness.
The things about these little miracle moments is that they can be easy to overlook. The little burdens seem impossible to ignore, seem to scream and shout in our faces. The little joys whisper softly in our ear. We need special eyes to see the blessed little moments, special ears to hear their whisper.
If you want to be more open and aware of these little moments, it takes a special mindfulness and intentionality. I encourage you to pray that you would be open to these moments, that you would not miss one of the whispers God is sending you. Pray while you are brushing your teeth or putting your contacts in, preparing your mind and heart for the day as you prepare your body. Then, look for these moments. It seems that recognizing and appreciating these moments is a skill that gets strengthened with practice. Once you see your favorite song on the radio as a gentle reminder that you are loved, it will become easier to be aware of the other little reminders all around you. Then, write them down. Write down the beauty and comfort you find in the little moments, and revisit the list when the small burdens become overwhelming.
This increased awareness can help reveal the power of the little joys. We can fill ourselves up on these little joys and their message, a reminder that the little burdens are not the final word. We can soak them in and carry them with us, strengthening us to press through the tiny arrows and hear all that the little moments have to say.
Isn’t that how it often is? It’s the little things that make you cranky, that weigh you down, that leave you feeling like you are dragging a bag of rocks behind you. These are the things that lead to tears, harsh words, and emotional meltdowns.
I have watched people walk through trials and impossibly difficult seasons, live through trauma and tragedy. These times are excruciatingly hard and undeniably painful. Support and care is essential, and many times a community will gather around the person who is suffering. There are times when these experiences leave their own battle wounds, and there are times when the person who is suffering walks out stronger and more sure than ever before.
But there is a different kind of pain and struggle that comes from the little injuries of daily life. Sleepless nights with a young child, ugly words spoken in the context of a loving relationship, rain that leaves the hems of your pants wet for hours, being left out of a social engagement you badly want to be a to be a part of. These are minor issues, yet they add up and leave their own battle wounds. These are the little pains that leave us dull and burdened, dragging through a life we would rather explode through.
Someone once told me that these little burdens added up to a “slow death.” If that is true, than I believe there is also another, brighter side to the coin. If the small pains have the power to slowly seep the life out of us, than I believe that the small joys also hold great power. If it is the little things that can ruin a day, than it is the little things that can help redeem it.
Luke 12:6-7 says, “Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.” I had my hair cut yesterday, and the floor was quickly covered in clippings. If God says that He has each of those hairs numbered, that He knows which ones were cut and which ones I lost in the shower this morning, then I wholeheartedly believe that He is in all the details, in all the little things.
I believe that He is in the perfectly warm morning cup of coffee, the sun shining through the icy tree branches, and the soft burning of the wood stove. I believe He is in the unexpected phone call from a friend, in the snuggle from a child, and in the crisp freshness of clean sheets. I believe He is in each of the beautiful, comforting, and pleasant moments that sneak into even the most challenging of days. And I believe that in all of these teeny, tiny little moments He is reminding us of His love and His goodness.
The things about these little miracle moments is that they can be easy to overlook. The little burdens seem impossible to ignore, seem to scream and shout in our faces. The little joys whisper softly in our ear. We need special eyes to see the blessed little moments, special ears to hear their whisper.
If you want to be more open and aware of these little moments, it takes a special mindfulness and intentionality. I encourage you to pray that you would be open to these moments, that you would not miss one of the whispers God is sending you. Pray while you are brushing your teeth or putting your contacts in, preparing your mind and heart for the day as you prepare your body. Then, look for these moments. It seems that recognizing and appreciating these moments is a skill that gets strengthened with practice. Once you see your favorite song on the radio as a gentle reminder that you are loved, it will become easier to be aware of the other little reminders all around you. Then, write them down. Write down the beauty and comfort you find in the little moments, and revisit the list when the small burdens become overwhelming.
This increased awareness can help reveal the power of the little joys. We can fill ourselves up on these little joys and their message, a reminder that the little burdens are not the final word. We can soak them in and carry them with us, strengthening us to press through the tiny arrows and hear all that the little moments have to say.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Magic Words
There are very few truly magical words, phrases that when genuinely expressed unfailingly improve a conversation. But there are some. There are some words that almost always diffuse tension, draw relationships closer, and improve communication. These words seem to shorten the intensity and duration of almost any argument, and help turn a conflict into an opportunity to deepen and strengthen a relationship. The only caveat is that the person expressing these words needs to mean them, and cannot be using them as a manipulative ploy or an attempt to exit the conversation as quickly as possible. If these requirements are meant, truly amazing things can happen.
What are these magic words? They are really quite simple, four common words that are rarely spoken together. These words are: I could be wrong. One of the most magical things about these words is that they don’t always even need to be spoken out loud. Just keeping the mindset that I could be wrong can dramatically decrease the intensity, duration, and frequency of arguments.
Why are these four little words so powerful? When we keep the perspective that we could be wrong, we tend to be much kinder in our arguments, much more willing to listen to another person’s perspective. Many conflicts are miscommunications, and the source of the misunderstanding is often never uncovered. A husband swears he told his wife he made plans to spend time with friends on Saturday; she is convinced she never heard a peep about these plans. Did he not say it? Did she forget he said it? They will most likely never know. If both partners kept the perspective that the error could be, at least partially their responsibility, the argument will be much shorter and much less intense.
Other conflicts involve a different kind of misunderstanding. We interpret each other’s behaviors, and attribute the behavior to the explanation that makes the most sense to us. Two friends are having a pleasant phone conversation, and one suddenly becomes quiet and then says she has to go. The other friend assumes that she inadvertently said something offensive and that her friend is mad. Perhaps this is true, perhaps there is another reason altogether for the quick cut-off. We can never fully know another’s thoughts, motives, and emotions. Therefore, we could always be wrong about the interpretations we make and the inferences we draw. Perhaps if the woman knew exactly what was going on in her friend’s thoughts, feelings, and surroundings, she would come up with a completely different explanation for her behavior. Keeping in mind that our interpretations could be inaccurate can make a world of difference.
There are also conflicts that arise due to simple differences in opinion. During election time, two family members may choose to vote for different candidates. One friend may endorse the idea of letting an infant cry it out at bedtime while another friend disagrees completely. If a topic generates opinions, then there are bound to be millions of them. When differences of opinion exist, debate and conflict often ensue. If we can keep in mind that while we strongly endorse our opinions, we are limited human beings with imperfect interpretations of the world, we can honestly say that we could be wrong. This allows us to truly listen to another person and engage in a kinder, more productive conversation.
When spoken, these words can be extremely powerful. I have seen an argument come to a screeching halt because one person hesitantly offered, “I suppose I could be wrong.” This person did not think that they were wrong. In fact, they wholeheartedly believed that they were in the right. But, by humbly acknowledging that it was possible that they could be wrong, some tension immediately left the room.
The problem is that we do not like to admit that we could be wrong. We don’t think we are wrong, and we desperately want to prove that we are right. Here is where I give it to you straight: you could always be wrong. I could always be wrong. This is simply a function of being human. To deny this fact is nothing more than pride.
So I challenge you to start keeping these four little magic words somewhere in the back of your mind. When a conflict arises, practice saying them to yourself, over and over. I could be wrong. I could be wrong. I could be wrong. This thought is not meant to change your position on an issue or spur you to walk away from a conflict. It is not meant to encourage you to back down from taking an action you are convinced is best. What it does is soften your heart, give you ears to listen, and bring you to a more humble and compassionate place. And after all, isn’t that in itself a bit of magic?
What are these magic words? They are really quite simple, four common words that are rarely spoken together. These words are: I could be wrong. One of the most magical things about these words is that they don’t always even need to be spoken out loud. Just keeping the mindset that I could be wrong can dramatically decrease the intensity, duration, and frequency of arguments.
Why are these four little words so powerful? When we keep the perspective that we could be wrong, we tend to be much kinder in our arguments, much more willing to listen to another person’s perspective. Many conflicts are miscommunications, and the source of the misunderstanding is often never uncovered. A husband swears he told his wife he made plans to spend time with friends on Saturday; she is convinced she never heard a peep about these plans. Did he not say it? Did she forget he said it? They will most likely never know. If both partners kept the perspective that the error could be, at least partially their responsibility, the argument will be much shorter and much less intense.
Other conflicts involve a different kind of misunderstanding. We interpret each other’s behaviors, and attribute the behavior to the explanation that makes the most sense to us. Two friends are having a pleasant phone conversation, and one suddenly becomes quiet and then says she has to go. The other friend assumes that she inadvertently said something offensive and that her friend is mad. Perhaps this is true, perhaps there is another reason altogether for the quick cut-off. We can never fully know another’s thoughts, motives, and emotions. Therefore, we could always be wrong about the interpretations we make and the inferences we draw. Perhaps if the woman knew exactly what was going on in her friend’s thoughts, feelings, and surroundings, she would come up with a completely different explanation for her behavior. Keeping in mind that our interpretations could be inaccurate can make a world of difference.
There are also conflicts that arise due to simple differences in opinion. During election time, two family members may choose to vote for different candidates. One friend may endorse the idea of letting an infant cry it out at bedtime while another friend disagrees completely. If a topic generates opinions, then there are bound to be millions of them. When differences of opinion exist, debate and conflict often ensue. If we can keep in mind that while we strongly endorse our opinions, we are limited human beings with imperfect interpretations of the world, we can honestly say that we could be wrong. This allows us to truly listen to another person and engage in a kinder, more productive conversation.
When spoken, these words can be extremely powerful. I have seen an argument come to a screeching halt because one person hesitantly offered, “I suppose I could be wrong.” This person did not think that they were wrong. In fact, they wholeheartedly believed that they were in the right. But, by humbly acknowledging that it was possible that they could be wrong, some tension immediately left the room.
The problem is that we do not like to admit that we could be wrong. We don’t think we are wrong, and we desperately want to prove that we are right. Here is where I give it to you straight: you could always be wrong. I could always be wrong. This is simply a function of being human. To deny this fact is nothing more than pride.
So I challenge you to start keeping these four little magic words somewhere in the back of your mind. When a conflict arises, practice saying them to yourself, over and over. I could be wrong. I could be wrong. I could be wrong. This thought is not meant to change your position on an issue or spur you to walk away from a conflict. It is not meant to encourage you to back down from taking an action you are convinced is best. What it does is soften your heart, give you ears to listen, and bring you to a more humble and compassionate place. And after all, isn’t that in itself a bit of magic?
Monday, January 17, 2011
Structure and Spontaneity
My husband is quite possibly the least physically flexible person in New England. Ask him to touch his toes and he can just about reach his knees. However, he possesses one of the most flexible natures I’ve ever seen. Spontaneously ask him to hang out or help out and nine times out of ten he will say yes. That one time that he says no, it’s usually because I’ve told him it won’t work with our schedule. Because I am not all that flexible. I love schedules, plans, and predictability. Together we make a very good team, though it is a constant learning process to work together and bring out the best in one another instead of just getting frustrated. Both his tendency toward flexibility and my inclination toward structure can lead to problems. Structure on its own leads to rigidity, while flexibility unfettered leads to chaos.
Just like everyone has a natural preference toward introversion or extraversion, everyone has a natural predilection for structure or spontaneity. Those who prefer structure and order are the list-makers among us, the ones attached to their planners and calendars. As parents, they are more likely to work with their children to establish a predictable schedule, having meals, naps, and bedtime at the same time everyday. They do not enjoy surprises and feel best when they know what to expect and how to prepare for it. In fact, sometimes the lack of structure can create a sense of anxiety.
The people who prefer spontaneity operate very differently. They enjoy surprises and feel bored if life is too predictable. They often cannot tell you what their week will hold, or what they have planned for their non-work hours. Too much structure can feel burdensome to them. They can go with the flow, roll with the punches. However, they may struggle to plan ahead and find themselves scrambling at the last minute. They may feel unorganized and unprepared for events as they arise.
Some people may hear the words “structure” and “spontaneity” and automatically assume one is superior to the other. Many people hear and value the preference that is not their natural inclination. As a person who tends toward structure, spontaneity sounds rather scary to me, but also a bit magical and much more fun. However, I have very spontaneous friends who constantly feel that they do not measure up because they lack what they feel is sufficient structure in their life.
We need both spontaneity and structure to function optimally. Too much structure, without room for change and flexibility, and we can become rigid. We lose opportunities to really connect with other people, and we miss the beautiful, unplanned moments in life. Life can become about checking off items on a To Do list instead of about fully participating in the events and experiences before us. Too much spontaneity and our life can melt into chaos. We fail to fulfill responsibilities and obligations in a timely manner. We are always putting something off or scrambling to get something done before it’s too late. Life becomes so much about the moment that we do not prepare for the future or set the boundaries that we and those we love need in order to feel safe.
We need a balance of structure and spontaneity to help us avoid rigidity and chaos. Dan Siegel describes this balance as a river, with rigidity and inflexibility on one bank and chaos and turmoil on the other. You want to learn to navigate the river smoothly in order to avoid getting stuck on one shore or bouncing directionless between the two. Imagine a baseball game. The players need to know the rules in order to play the game. They need to grasp the basic structure of the game, know the boundaries of the field, and understand the position they are playing. Without these rules, the game would just be a group of people with some sports equipment. However, the players also need to be able to respond flexibly to each play, to watch what happens and decide whether or not to swing at that pitch, when to run and when to keep their base. The game requires flexibility and responsiveness.
The same is true with our daily lives. We need structure to move meaningfully and productively through our lives, and we need to be able to flexibly respond to the changing demands and experiences of our day. For example, it can be tremendously helpful to have a meal plan for the week, so that dinner is planned out for each day. However, an unexpectedly hectic day, surprise company, or even a change in taste buds can lead to a change of plans. And that change in plans can be okay.
I challenge you to take a moment and assess the balance of structure and spontaneity in your life. Here are some questions to aid in the process:
• How would you describe your personal preference? Do you lean more toward structure or spontaneity? How would other people describe you?
• How does your personal style benefit your life and help you function at your best?
• How does your personal style create problems for you?
• Do you find yourself missing deadlines, frequently arriving late for meetings or appointments, or failing to fulfill obligations? How can you add some structure into your life to avoid this?
• Is there room in your life for the unexpected? Do you ever feel like you are living to check things off your list instead of actively engaging the world? What happens when your plans don’t work out? How can you add some flexibility to your life?
Just like everyone has a natural preference toward introversion or extraversion, everyone has a natural predilection for structure or spontaneity. Those who prefer structure and order are the list-makers among us, the ones attached to their planners and calendars. As parents, they are more likely to work with their children to establish a predictable schedule, having meals, naps, and bedtime at the same time everyday. They do not enjoy surprises and feel best when they know what to expect and how to prepare for it. In fact, sometimes the lack of structure can create a sense of anxiety.
The people who prefer spontaneity operate very differently. They enjoy surprises and feel bored if life is too predictable. They often cannot tell you what their week will hold, or what they have planned for their non-work hours. Too much structure can feel burdensome to them. They can go with the flow, roll with the punches. However, they may struggle to plan ahead and find themselves scrambling at the last minute. They may feel unorganized and unprepared for events as they arise.
Some people may hear the words “structure” and “spontaneity” and automatically assume one is superior to the other. Many people hear and value the preference that is not their natural inclination. As a person who tends toward structure, spontaneity sounds rather scary to me, but also a bit magical and much more fun. However, I have very spontaneous friends who constantly feel that they do not measure up because they lack what they feel is sufficient structure in their life.
We need both spontaneity and structure to function optimally. Too much structure, without room for change and flexibility, and we can become rigid. We lose opportunities to really connect with other people, and we miss the beautiful, unplanned moments in life. Life can become about checking off items on a To Do list instead of about fully participating in the events and experiences before us. Too much spontaneity and our life can melt into chaos. We fail to fulfill responsibilities and obligations in a timely manner. We are always putting something off or scrambling to get something done before it’s too late. Life becomes so much about the moment that we do not prepare for the future or set the boundaries that we and those we love need in order to feel safe.
We need a balance of structure and spontaneity to help us avoid rigidity and chaos. Dan Siegel describes this balance as a river, with rigidity and inflexibility on one bank and chaos and turmoil on the other. You want to learn to navigate the river smoothly in order to avoid getting stuck on one shore or bouncing directionless between the two. Imagine a baseball game. The players need to know the rules in order to play the game. They need to grasp the basic structure of the game, know the boundaries of the field, and understand the position they are playing. Without these rules, the game would just be a group of people with some sports equipment. However, the players also need to be able to respond flexibly to each play, to watch what happens and decide whether or not to swing at that pitch, when to run and when to keep their base. The game requires flexibility and responsiveness.
The same is true with our daily lives. We need structure to move meaningfully and productively through our lives, and we need to be able to flexibly respond to the changing demands and experiences of our day. For example, it can be tremendously helpful to have a meal plan for the week, so that dinner is planned out for each day. However, an unexpectedly hectic day, surprise company, or even a change in taste buds can lead to a change of plans. And that change in plans can be okay.
I challenge you to take a moment and assess the balance of structure and spontaneity in your life. Here are some questions to aid in the process:
• How would you describe your personal preference? Do you lean more toward structure or spontaneity? How would other people describe you?
• How does your personal style benefit your life and help you function at your best?
• How does your personal style create problems for you?
• Do you find yourself missing deadlines, frequently arriving late for meetings or appointments, or failing to fulfill obligations? How can you add some structure into your life to avoid this?
• Is there room in your life for the unexpected? Do you ever feel like you are living to check things off your list instead of actively engaging the world? What happens when your plans don’t work out? How can you add some flexibility to your life?
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