A Litany of Thanksgiving

The month of November I try to be very intentional about embracing an exercise in looking for and recording those things for which I am thankful.  This year, engaging this spiritual practice has been most important to my soul's health and wholeness.  There is something about engaging a practice of listing thanksgivings that helps me to stay grounded in spiritual concepts that are important to me such as: hope, grace, love, peace, kindness. The practice serves as a reminder to me that there are good and wonderful things around me and it serves to remind me of God's good works in this world.

This year I included not only using words, but also finding or creating images that reflect my thanksgivings. In doing this I noticed a very spiritual and contemplative focus to my thanksgivings this year. They seemed to come together as a kind of litany. 

This is my last post for the month of November. I am going to take next week or so off and spend some time being less busy and more thankful with those closest to me.  I will be back in December. So as I prepare to take this pause, it seems fitting for me to leave my thankful litany here for you to engage in with me. I also would like to invite you, as we head into these days leading up to the celebration of Thanksgiving, to create your own litany of thanks giving. 

Painted sky displaying the grandeur of God's beauty

For this I am thankful.

Early dawn's light, quiet spaces and rituals that help me enter the day with peace and calm

For them I am thankful.

Books that take me deeper into the heart of the theology and spirituality that feeds my soul and simple tools of pen and journal where my own thoughts can reside

For these things I am thankful.

A faith family that is truly family, worship that feeds the soul, and the offering of our creativity

For these things I am thankful.

The sun that rises and sets, shining clear, bright light reminding me that light still shines and there is always hope

For this I am thankful.

Music that calls to and soothes the soul. Music that heals and restores

For this I am thankful

Moments of creativity

For these I am thankful.

Color bursting, the beauty of God's creation shining

For this I am thankful.

Wind that blows gently, bringing with it a soft rustling. Brushing my face and my soul. Reminding me of the Holy Spirit that flows and blows through us and the world

For this I am thankful.

Breathing, Grieving, Preparing

As I have made my rounds today both in my work, but also on my Facebook feed I have encountered people, people  who are processing and trying to make sense of and figure out their feelings. I have encountered people who are grieving and struggling with difficult feelings. And as I wandered through my day and my rounds I have struggled with what to write today and put out there.  There have been good words written and spoken by many about ways we can help our children to feel safe, about how we can start to move forward and do the work of striving for moving towards respect, working for justice issues and ultimately unity. 

As we move forward might I suggest tempering our need for news with breaks from media and social media and instead find quiet spaces where our souls can rest and recover for the work ahead. Find safe places for you to process your thoughts and feelings. Honor your feelings, do the work of grief if that is what you are feeling.  Try to keep from laying blame and pointing fingers, but instead find the places of commonality and hope that are still surrounding us. Speak with grace and words that speak of love and hope. And as we find our own healing may we then remember that there are so many more that need a compassionate, willing companion as they seek to move out of their own fear and into the work of the days ahead.

God of all,

It has been difficult and divisive days.

I am weary, we are weary.

It is hard to be hopefilled, yet you call us to be people of the light.

And with light comes hope.

Guide our thoughts, words, actions in the days to come.

May every breath in be one of your light, love and hope.

May every breath we breathe out be one of healing.

Help us to remember that you call us to be your hands and feet in this world.

Help us to move into the work of the days ahead with grace and love.

AMEN.

Lengthening the Apron Strings

A while back I was chatting with some other moms at work and we got to discussing teaching our kids responsibility and independence.  It was a timely conversation because just a few short days before my husband and I were talking about this and how and when would be appropriate to encourage further independence for our daughter.  I was very uncomfortable to the point of being somewhat resistant to the conversation. But sensing how deeply he felt about the topic at hand, I tried to engage with an open heart and mind our conversation.

It was as I was talking with this group of moms that I discovered the source of my resistance.  As is often the case when chatting about parenting, I said what I often do “with C growing up as an only child…..” That was when the light went on.  C is my only living child, and as such I recognize that I tend to be much more protective of her. What I had not realized was how deeply rooted and emotional that protection went. The idea of soon having her make her own breakfast or take responsibility for getting herself up with an alarm clock in the morning shakes my soul.  It is a removal of just a few more things that I have gotten used to doing for “my baby.” It is one more reminder that my baby is growing up.

In the shadows of this it is also a reminder of the fact that there is only one child I got to do these things for. There are no more little ones after her for me to continue doing these tasks. But there was supposed to be another one and grief becomes two-fold once more.  This is what makes it so hard for me to keep “lengthening the apron strings” and giving more independence to my child.  With each new set of tasks of independence and responsibility come with it another round of grief over “my baby” growing up. It is one more thing that this very protective momma has to let go of. It is yet a reminder that this is the last time I may get to do this at all, because the one that was to come next, never got to live.

And so it is in this tension of knowing I need to let the “apron strings” get a bit longer, let my precious not so little one gain more independence and the simple fact that my heart does not want to to it.  I want to keep her close, where I can protect her because the thought of anything happening to her, my only living child, is just more than my heart can handle.

It is in this space of tension that I am grateful for my husband who pushes me and is her champion for more independence and forces me to face myself and let go a bit more. It is in this space that God and I do a lot of talking and I tug on God’s apron strings just bit harder asking to be gathered in closer. 

It is in the nearness of my image of a parent God, who also had to let the child Jesus go into our world, that I find my comfort and strength to do what I know is right in giving more independence and responsibility. It is in the gathering into God’s presence that I find the courage to face again my two-fold grief and rage about how unfair it is that I have to do this. After my tears are spent and the snuffling breaths turn into deeper more sustaining breaths, I know what I must do and I venture back into my world of living and grieving that are all wrapped up into one. I also know that this will not be the last time that I find myself at this crossroad and that each time I will have the strength of faith to give my precious one wings to fly.

I forgot

How quickly I forget God,

Forget that you speak in so many ways.

I have gotten so used to hearing you in that still quiet whisper.

The one that comes in the stillness of my heart.

I forgot that you also use the voices of your children on this earth.

I really should not have forgotten,

But in my desperate seeking of your guidance

I forgot to look outside that quiet place in my heart to the wisdom of others.

Today I almost walked past that office.

But instead turned around and stopped to say hi.

The conversation began with an invitation to ME,

An opportunity to share my questioning.

Your wisdom was given,

Through the voice of the person I intended to give care to.

Today I heard you speak.

I remembered you speak in many different ways.

I remembered that as I walk the halls of ministry -

In the midst of my own stuff at times.

The ministry encounter may not be for me to be the one giving

But instead for me to be the one receiving.

It is in this space of both/and

That I heard your call to me…

To remember,

To remember to listen for your voice in all things and from unexpected places.

I hope to not forget again.

It Always Comes in Threes

I’m a bit late getting the blog up this week because – well – life happened.  In our family we have a saying, “stuff always comes in threes.” Stuff is the word I use for those random life events that are badly timed and more than inconvenient.  And I don’t know about you but these threesome events always happen in the week where I really don’t have time to add more chaos. This was one of those weeks.

I don’t want to sound like I am whining because I really am not.  I recognize that I am very blessed and the stuff we dealt with this week really was “first world problems.” For a while now our printer has been on hospice, we really have no idea when it will finally decide to quit printing for good, we already can only print in black and white. Then this week my hubby’s computer decided it was time to quit working properly requiring a trip to the Apple store to get it going again, but only for a little bit longer. The computer is on supportive care and will need to be replaced. It was after the computer issue that I realized we were headed towards a string of three.  I was waiting for the third. The third thing came quickly after the computer – our freezer quit working requiring a necessary shopping trip for a new fridge/freezer combo.  All of this in a week that was already full with extra meetings and doctor appointments and a kiddo out of school for two days. What was to be a busy week turned into chaos.

I don’t like chaos.  It is hard to navigate normal life amidst chaos. I find it hard to stay centered. The morning we discovered the freezer broke I could not be still enough to focus on my devotions and I felt guilty about just giving up on them. I worried about how we were going to replace everything that was broken and how my daughter was going to handle the fact that our evening routines were turned upside down for several nights in a row. I tried to remind myself that we are blessed to be able to afford to replace the broken fridge and technology.  I knew I was beyond blessed that I could go to the grocery store and replace the food that was lost due to the broken freezer. I just was annoyed at how my nicely planned week got turned upside down.

And then I experienced grace extended by my 9 year old. She jumped in and did every extra task asked of her with out complaining. She handled with grace an exceedingly long day of running around getting computers fixed and fridge/freezer combos bought. She adapted and moved into the chaos with an amazing flexibility that caused me to stop and refocus and breathe into the chaotic schedule of the week.

Her attitude reminded me that the best way to handle “strings of threes” is to flow into the chaos and tackle it one thing at a time. To find someone to join you in the chaos and help you with the multiple overwhelming tasks, because it is easier to breathe into flowing with it if you are not trying to survive it alone. And if you can find something humorous about it, laugh because laughing lightens the load a bit. And finally, you don’t always have to fix it all in one night (even if it might feel like it). Sometimes you just have to put it all aside for a while, do some self care, get a good nights sleep and come back to it later.

Once I remembered these things, I found myself finding my center again. I began seeing the blessings God was providing like friends loaning coolers and my kiddo waking up in the morning and making me my breakfast smoothie, just to surprise me.  And just like that amidst the chaos of my most recent “string of threes” God’s grace was abundant.

Self-care of the Soul

Self-care is something that is sacred in my life. It is something that is necessary as I work in the emotionally and spiritually intense world of hospital chaplaincy. One of the things in my self-care inventory is Tai Chi. This slow fluid form of martial arts has become another form of moving meditation and prayer, just like the labyrinth has been for me.

In my exploration of Tai Chi, I have discovered a group called Taijifit. It is an online group that offers live-streamed workouts. The beautiful thing about this online group is that we gather from all over the world to play and do moving meditation together. Taijifit has become an essential part of my self-care routine, and you can find me in the online classroom about 5 days a week. We close each class with some variation of the following “guidelines for life:” “1) Keep your heart open, 2) Take time to play, and 3) Go with the flow. I have found myself reflecting on these guidelines and how they have integrated into my own daily living, and I’d like to share some of what has been ruminating in my brain and heart.

Keep your heart open: as a chaplain I encounter all kinds of people from all walks of life and beliefs. My role is to be present to them in their time of need and help them tap into and use their own spiritual/philosophical belief system as a source of strength and healing. To do this, my heart and mind has to be open to the many different ways of believing and orienting to the world that people have. The other side of an open heart is that I sometimes find my heart feeling more deeply and profoundly the pain of others. And when that happens I find my own healing in the moving mediation of Taijifit and the spoken words of gentle and healing imagery by the instructors that guide us into the movements. And in this I find myself letting the movement becoming a prayer, where I send off the deep feelings of my heart that are not mine to keep to God for safekeeping, and in doing so I find my emotional balance again.

Take time to play: my life is full between my daughter’s activities, my involvement in my church, and my work as a chaplain.  It is easy for me to lose sight of my own needs and time for fun. But as I hear these words after class each night, I am finding that I am becoming more able to put the never-ending to-do list away unfinished as 7:00 pm approaches, and by 8 pm the cell phone is put to silent (unless I am on- call). I am becoming more aware of my daughter’s invitations to play – even those that come in her sneaky tickle attacks of me. I am learning that I do not have to be doing something “productive” every minute of the day. I am learning that it is ok, and even good for me to spend the hour I spend at my daughter’s soccer practice just sitting out there, not really even watching practice but instead just enjoying being outdoors. This whole “take time to play” for me has really become an invitation into Sabbath time.

Go with the flow: ok, to be completely honest this one is really, really hard for me. I am a bit of a control person. I like a plan and to know what is going to happen and what I am going to do and how I am going to respond. I know, counter intuitive for being a chaplain in a hospital where you never seem to really know what the day will be. I’m pretty good at going with the flow at work, so perhaps that is why I tend to be a bit more controlling in other areas. Taijifit has really challenged me on this one. As I grow into applying going-with-the-flow in all aspects of my life I am finding that 1) I am a better mom 2) I am less stressed which means 3) my physical ailments related to stress are better. Essentially I am a healthier person all around. I am learning that if I am able to let go a bit more and open myself up more I am also more present and aware of the workings of God and Spirit going on around me and through me. I am more spiritually centered. This is a really good thing when you are a chaplain and chaos ensues. Ok, being spiritually centered is also really important when parenting, too.

This is all still very much a work in progress for me, but I am excited about where the journey is taking me in my spiritual life. I would like to invite you to consider with me how do you need to keep your heart open, where in your life do you need more play time, and how can you release some control and move into going with the flow of life.

Benches, Gardens, and a Ritual of Healing

October is National Perinatal Loss and Infant Death awareness month and as this is a topic close to my heart I like to spend my first blog for the month of October reflecting in this area. This is usually one of the blogs where the words come easy. This year it is different, I am not sure why but the words are not coming easy.

If you have been reading here a while you know I am a chaplain and have as one of my units the Maternity areas. I also serve on our hospital Maternity Bereavement Team. Each year on the first weekend in October we host a memorial walk for families who have experienced perinatal loss and infant death. This year was special because we also dedicated a garden space that is dedicated to remembering our little ones who have gone from our arms, but not from our hearts. Our team has been working for years to see this garden become a reality.

This past Sunday, I spent the early part of the afternoon speaking words of dedication, walking, remembering, and honoring our Hope alongside many other little ones. I was honored to remember the short life of a special little girl, who had a very special connection to the hospital I work at. It was her death and the gift of a bench by her family and friends that provided the momentum for the garden itself.

I personally felt deeply the gift of this bench. In preparing for the dedication, the family made it clear that it was their hope that the bench would be a place of comfort for all who walk this journey of loss and death of little ones. Their gracious expansion of the meaning of the bench beyond themselves is a blessed gift to me as the tangible places and things that mark our Hope’s presence in this world are few and far between.

My loss did not happen at a hospital, so the fact that the bereavement team has been intentional about the garden being for all who experience perinatal loss and infant death, no matter if it was at our hospital or not, is another gift. It is another small way of others saying my little one is special and had an important place in this world and is worth remembering. I know this as Hope’s mom, but to have other people and an institution say this in such a public way is a gift of healing that words fall short of conveying.

It has been a little over 6 years now since Hope died and Sunday was the first time since the small private service in our home that my family had gathered with intentionality remembering Hope’s presence in our family. This was the first time we had been as a family to a public memorial walk event. There were tears as we stood and listened to our Hope’s name read aloud by one of the nurses I work with and we walked to place our roses in front of the angel statue. My husband, daughter and I stood in a close hug with my parents not far behind us as we listened to all the other little ones name be read and honored. And for a small moment in time we were a part of people who shared a similar grief.

We have had moments of healing all along this journey and each has been Holy, but there was something very special and Holy and sacred sharing this time with my family that seemed to solidify my own healing as a bereaved mother.

My daughter stood at my side as I said prayers and spoke words of dedication. She held my hand as the two of us led the group on the walk. She shared with me as we walked that she finally feels ok in her own grief journey. She has really struggled to grieve her role as big sister and I have journeyed very intimately with her helping her young, tender heart deal with this very big grief. The healing power of ritual was very evident in her response to the afternoon. It was a very unique afternoon of my ministry as a chaplain and my role as a mother coming together, quite literally side by side. But again there was The Holy in this meeting up that I have not felt this strongly before and will cherish for many years to come.

As I come to the end of the struggle to put these words to writing, I am realizing what the power of the day was for me. I finally experienced a public ritual of remembering my little one. The day may not have been all about our baby Hope, and we were sharing the ritual with many others. But then, perhaps that was the power of the day. We shared our common grief in ritual and that is healing.