Wednesday, December 13, 2023

I Am Not Broken, Neither Are You

 


This morning I was sitting at the Toyota place waiting for my oil to get changed.  There were people scattered, also waiting.  One woman was eating and doing work on her computer at a bar in the waiting area.  Another man had a library book in hand.  He pretended to read, though I never saw him turn a page.  Others, like me had their phones in hand as companionship for the wait.  My first action was to scroll when a meme grabbed my attention.  The author of the meme was J. Mike Fields.  Mr. Fields Is listed on his website as a “professional life coach, speaker, and mental wellness advocate who empowers people to take the necessary steps to create a life they love.”  I have seen many of his memes and generally they resonate with me.  This one gave me pause to wonder. 

 

The meme read “The desire to fix another is an active avoidance of the neglected self.”  I can agree with this and I also want to go deeper.  You see for something to need to be fixed it must be broken.  The sharer of the meme, someone I admire and respect, sees themselves as a fixer to the point of self-neglect.  I, myself, can say that I am guilty of this.  I have been a rescuer my whole life, moving from one “project” to another.  The high school kid who lives in the projects and is abused by her mom, the teenage girl who finds herself in a children’s home, feeling rejected and abandoned by her family, the pregnant teenager whose family is encouraging an abortion, and the list could continue one at a time.  I have also been the one being “rescued.”  Rescued from deep depression, rescued from years of not being touched, rescued from the bad habits that have formed through the years that are detrimental to my health, and this list could also go on. 

 

What hit me between the eyes this morning as I looked around me at the people, I was sharing this space with was people are not broken.  Another friend, this week, described themselves as a “broken toy.”  This made me sad.  Then I think of all the ways that I have seen myself as broken.  I have bad habits.  The result of those bad habits can be seen in my weight, in physical ailments, in lack of energy, and again the list could go on.  However, I am not broken.  I do not need to be fixed.  You are not broken; you do not need to be fixed.  Your partner, your child, your parent, your friend…. they are not broken; they do not need to be fixed. 

You see we are all created in the image of the divine.  The divine is perfect love.  That divine loves connects all of humanity, and not just all of humanity but all of creation.  I think of my granddaughter who will be two weeks old tomorrow.  She reflects that perfect love.  She is a vessel and everything that is poured into her from this point on is going to contribute to how she behaves and reacts to the world around her.  But she is who she was created to be in this moment and she is perfect.  I was born as this perfect love and so are you.  We are not broken. 

 

One blogger writes “The more we can see that none of us is broken, inadequate, or lacking but are fully functional human souls that simply live in the experience of their thought created reality; the more we will see each other’s humanity and genius s appear from behind preconceived thinking. “{When this happens} the more many of our human-made problems will disappear.” [1]   

Dr. Suzanne Smith writes this about seeing ourselves and others as broken:

 

This is faulty thinking that is both harmful and limiting. When we view ourselves as broken, we make the irrational assumption that the world is split into some people who are healthy and whole and other people who are damaged and broken. And we place ourselves into that broken group.

The truth is that everyone has areas of struggle. Life is fraught with stressful events both good and bad, many of them outside of our control. We have biological differences and unique family histories. We each have our own challenges to face and style of managing these.

She says this about her approach when she sees this faulty thinking: 

When I see someone who is stuck in an endless cycle of self-improvement projects that always leave him/her disappointed, we begin by exploring whether this mission of “fixing” is based on the core belief that he/she is broken.  We challenge this very belief system. The only way out of this cycle of shame, self-destruction, and punishment is to develop self-compassion. Instead of spending energy on all these efforts to fix themselves, we focus on loving themselves. This is where the meaningful growth and healing can begin. Being gentle with ourselves makes room for lasting change. [2]

In 2015 I was introduced to the work of Brene’ Brown.  Her book Gifts of Imperfection was my first exposure to her work.  I have been striving over the last few years toward fully authentic living.  Brene’ Brown tells us through this book that “authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we’re supposed to be and embracing who we are.”  Just because we are not the person our partner, our parent, our child, our friend, wants us to be, does not mean we are broken.  Do we have wounds that need to heal, most certainly.  As noted above we all have struggles.  Yet, we are not broken.

Base on all I have read today, the secret to healing those wounds and returning to the perfect divine love, is to embrace ourselves and love ourselves.  If you want to help someone, do not try to fix them.  Love them.  Pour love into them and help them to see the divine within themselves.  Once that happens, the rest will come naturally. 

 

 

 

 



rFrom:  https://www.wildmind.org/blogs/on-practice/none-of-us-is-broken

[2] Written by Suzanne Smith, Ph.D. for the Lakefront Psychology Blog. If you are interested in more original articles about mental health, postpartum issues, wellness, relationships, and parenting, please subscribe to the blog using the button below. If you are interested in scheduling an appointment with Dr. Smith, please contact Lakefront Psychology at

 

Saturday, November 18, 2023

The Greatest Love of All

 


When I was a child, I took several years of piano lessons.  My mom bought a piano book called Color Me Pops.  I used to sit at the piano in our living room and play through and sing the songs in that book pretending I was a beloved bar singer, playing for the crowd.  One of my favorite songs to sing out of that book was The Greatest Love of All, Before the Whitney Houston version. 

I would get to the chorus and would belt out, in my strongest voice, “I decided long ago, never to walk in anyone’s shadow/ If I fail, If I succeed at least, I have my dignity……..Because the greatest love of all is inside of me.”  I sang it like I believed it.  I sang it like if I sang it loud enough and strong enough, it would be true. 

The truth is, I have struggled most of my life with not believing I was enough.  I have struggled with loving myself.  I was an awkward child.  I beat to the tune of my own drum.  In many ways it was true that I did not walk in anyone’s shadow.  I did not follow any certain crowd.  I was happiest when I was outside playing in the woods, turning rocks over in the creek in search of crawdads, riding my bike and making ramps to jump, hitting the tennis ball against the back wall, or throwing a softball against the back wall.  I could entertain myself for hours in these ways.  I was not good at sports, I was not a gifted academic, and while I loved sitting at that piano and singing my heart out, I was not going to win a talent show. 

I am in a season of life right now when I am examining this struggle.  The struggle shows its ugly head in my inability to care for myself in the ways that I care for others.  The struggle developed into Co-Dependency long ago, probably starting early in high school.  Since that time there have been a succession of people who I have displayed co-dependent behaviors with.  I am challenging myself in this season to overcome these behaviors.  I am challenging myself to discover who I really am and what I truly believe.  To be honest it is an exciting journey. 

Yesterday as I was driving the words to the song intruded my thought space.  I try to pay attention when that happens.  Especially if it is a song I have not heard in a long time.  What is the Divine Spirit speaking to me through this song?  I have been going through the 30 Shamanic Questions with a friend recently.  The latest question was who do you want your higher power to be?  This is a question I have never pondered but I am realizing lately that I need to be able to define who God is to me.  I am growing more and more uncomfortable with the God that is portrayed in much or our Old Testament Scripture.  I believe the writers of those stories must have attributed things to God that were not of God, much like we still do today. 

I John 4:7-8 is one of the mantra’s I try to live by.  Beloved, let us Love One Another, for love is of God and everyone that loves is born of God and Loves God.  He that loves not, knows not God for God is Love.  I started reading The Color Purple today.  In the prelude to the book, Alice Walker, explains that the core teaching of the book is that she believes “God is everything.  Everything that is or ever was or ever will be.  And when you can feel that, and be happy to feel that, you’ve found that.   She further states that the Color Purple transforms God from a Patriarchal White Supremacist into trees, stars, wind, and everything else.  She goes on to explain that the book’s intent was to explore the difficult path of someone who starts out in life already spiritually captive, but who, through her own courage and the help of others breaks free into the realization that she, like nature itself, is a radiant expression of the heretofore perceived quite distant divine.”   Yes!  This!  God is love and that love is in ALL!  That love is inside of me and it is the Greatest Love! 

            I was reading another book today, The Incitement of Joy.  Low and behold within those pages was the mention of The Greatest Love of ALL.  That is the message the Spirit is showering me with right now.  The Greatest Love is indeed inside of me and you, and Everything! 

 

 

Thursday, November 16, 2023

Thanksgiving and the Approach of Advent

 

Thanksgiving week is approaching and this means two things to me.  First, it means the convergence of the tribe of Jesse onto Dotson Mountain where the food will be plentiful and my heart will be full of joy as I gather with my family for my favorite of all holidays.  It is my favorite because it is not commercialized.  Thanksgiving weekend is about gathering, it is about laughing, playing, eating, and gathering some more, playing some more and……well eating.  Secondly it means the new church year is approaching.  Advent…..a time of waiting.  Advent……beginning again.  It is the new year of the church.  

I recognize that the church has created a lot of rules and rituals, regulations and really a whole language that many people do not understand nor want to understand.  I have had my share of grief at the hands of the church.  The church has done much in the name of God that God never intended and that God is surely very disappointed in and angry about.  Honestly when I think of all the things that have been done in the name of God it turns my stomach. 

That being said, there is something about the rhythm of the liturgical calendar that brings comfort to me.  I had never even heard the terms advent and lent in the church of my youth.  Once I learned of them, they gave me moments of reset and reflection that were structured and I am one who finds comfort in structure and routine.  I find comfort in ritual.   

This year our church, Wellspring Congregation alongside Biltmore United Methodist,  is doing a worship series entitled, How Does A Weary World Rejoice, put out by Sanctified art.  In this series we will be exploring how we can experience joy in the midst of all the weariness of this world.  It is hard these days.  There is so much suffering around us.  I am looking forward to focusing on joy during this advent season.  To keep this theme of joy in focus I am going to be looking at the following resources: 

 

https://momastery.com/blog/we-can-do-hard-things-ep-215/

 

https://yale-cfc.webflow.io/legacy-projects/theology-of-joy

 



Feel free to join me on the journey.   

 

Saturday, September 9, 2023

My Mother Church is on Hospice Care

 

 

The church that birthed me into United Methodism is on Hospice Care.  A decision is being made tomorrow at 3:00 about her fate.  Will the plug be pulled?  That is the question at hand as the congregation votes on a petition to disaffiliate from the United Methodist Church.  This is the church that welcomed my family into its care, when most churches were not equipped to handle us.  I had been church hopping for a couple of years, wearied by the inability of most churches to welcome my special needs son.  I knew I had found a faith home when their children’s minister came to me and rather than asking me to come intervene with him, asked me the best way to help him.  I did not care at the time what denomination they were, or whether they were traditional or progressive, or liturgical or contemporary.  I cared that they cared for my son.  It was an added bonus that as I grew into that church, I found Wesleyan theology and it resonated in my soul.  It was a bonus that I got to sing in the praise team and there was a Sunday School class that welcomed all of who I am. 

 

Then the cancer snuck in.  The cancer came in the form of fear and ignorance, disguised in the words of Bible Believing and inerrancy.  It was interesting that a Core Wesleyan belief is that of the quadrilateral.  It is how we work through questions about scripture and their meaning as it relates to questions of life and faith.   Scripture has authority as it is read through the lens of tradition, reason, and experience.  Yet, persons were taking things that they did not have experience in and using the Bible as a proof text to support their own misunderstandings and biases.  This cancer of ignorance, misunderstanding and fear has multiplied into division and anger.  There is a simple therapy for this cancer.  It is called Love.  I got a mega dose of this treatment when I sat outside of the Hospice, I worked in 1994 and recalled the words of I John 4:7-8.  Beloved, let us Love One Another, for love is of God and everyone who loves is born of God and knows God.  They that love not, know not God for God is Love.  My Uncle taught me this scripture in the form of song when I was a youth.  The Holy Spirit brought it to me at a time when I questioned if God could love me.  The question facing me was how can I reconcile my spirituality and my sexuality.  I had prayed for several years for change to occur in my sexuality and it never happened.  The holy Spirit reminded me of this scripture that day and reminded me that God created me in God’s image.  If God is love, I am love.  If God created me in God’s image than God love me just as God created me.  IT was that simple.  That moment was the anecdote I so desperately needed in one of the darkest moments of my life.  It is such a moment as this that my mother church desperately needs as she lays in wait. 

When you find out a loved one has been placed on Hospice Care you immediately begin the process of grieving and you cycle through all the stages of grief, slipping in and out-back and forth.  We become intimately familiar with denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.  I discovered this week that I am in the midst of deep grief over this.  I stayed in denial for quite some time.  I wanted so desperately to believe that those leading this effort were being misunderstood and that the disease was not as progressed as had been diagnosed.  Then as I began to discover the truth of the diagnosis, I was angry at those who had started administering the chemicals that would eventually kill my beloved church.  The church where I first rediscovered my call to ministry.  The church where I first shared my story.  The church where my son was both baptized and confirmed.  The church that nurtured me through sickness, surgeries, and death of loved ones.  My anger became more directed at people who were posting things on Facebook that I knew I should ignore but that stirred me to action.  My own grief and anger serving as a catalyst for inflammatory language and divisive words.  The bargaining came long ago when I saw the first signs of disease.  I stayed.  I stayed longer than I should have stayed hoping with everything in me that it was not so.

 

Last week as I traveled to the beach and floated on the water and read some of a book, I had downloaded a while back, I recognized that I had “stopped breathing.”  This is how my friend Sally describes the moments in my life when I disconnect from spirit.  I never made a conscience decision to disconnect but I believe it was my bodies way of dealing with the cycle of depression I had entered withing the cycle of grief. 

I had forgotten to take a book with me to the beach so I was pursuing my Kindle downloads and came upon a book I had downloaded called Let Your Heartbreak Be Your Guide by Adam Bucko. I do not recall what led me to this book but As I began to turn the pages, I discovered that my soul was longing for nourishment and connection to the Divine and this book would lead me there. 

I do not believe it was coincidence that I discovered this right in the midst of being shot with major doses of the cancers of fear and ignorance.  During this time, I also received phone calls from persons who God has put in my life for just such moments, to remind me whose I am and what that God has called me to be in this world.  This affirmation also came in the texts from a young adult who I watched grow up, who reached out to me and let me know, without knowing that she was doing this, that young people I care about very much are watching my reactions and what they need is an advocate.  They need a voice that is going to stand up for them. 

I traveled home from the beach with all this stirring in my heart.  As I drove to church last Sunday, I tuned into Resurrection United Methodist in Kansas City and as Pastor Adam Hamilton began inviting people to the communion table tears began to roll down my cheek.  I then tuned in to St. Lukes United Methodist where I was reminded that whatever work I do, I do as work for the Lord.  I am not called to be a people pleaser.  I am called to let everyone know that there is room at the table for ALL of God’s children.  Again, tears fell. 

In church, I tried to request prayer for my mother church as they face this vote.  But the words would not come out, just tears.  As I served communion, I served through tears.  The tears especially came when I served members of the LGBTQ+ community and as I served those clergy who have given me large doses of that anecdote of love, I was telling you about. 

 

So, what am I going to do tomorrow at 3:00.  I am going to do what I do when anyone I love and care about is placed on Hospice care.  I am going to go there.  I am going to pray.  I am going to have a hand ready for holding.  I am going to sing songs of encouragement and love.  I am going to pour the anecdote of love into anybody who recognizes their need for it.  I am going to be present.  I am going to do as Jesus did when he learned of Lazarus’ death.  I am going to weep.  But I will not weep as someone without hope.  For I am a child of the resurrected LORD. 

Resurrection or resuscitation may not happen tomorrow.   IF the church votes to disaffiliate, my mother church will be dead.  What I will not do is bless the church that remains.  I have had this feeling for a while but did not know how to articulate it.  A wise person articulated for me last week when they unpacked part of Galatians 6:7-10.  Those Who plant only for their own benefit will harvest devastation.”   They went onto say this:  Who is benefiting from these disaffiliations? Sadly, I believe it is those who

want to retain power, property, finances and control of how LGBTQ+ people are treated in their

midst. If they looked around they would have seen more than enough churches who believe the

way they believe. They are not adding anything new to the kingdom of God, they are simply

repeating the sins of the past. I cannot bless them on their way, I do not hope they prosper, I do

not pray their congregations will grow. I cannot. I don’t wish them harm but I cannot abide the

idea that more people, young and old, will be brought up in an environment that does not fully

affirm everyone. 

 

This same wise person also introduced me to a Rabbinic prayer that goes like this:  Do not be afraid of work that does not end. 

 

This week someone asked me about the Holy Spirit.  What is the Holy Spirit?  How do you get the Holy Spirit.  I have not given a full answer.  Volumes have been written.  What I can tell you is that the way all of these things collided together in the last week is evidence of the Holy Spirit at work in my own life. 

 

There is much work to do.  I will continue to answer the call.  But for tomorrow, I will be the grieving child at the bedside of her mother church.