Be still
I am holding you
in my hands
I am holding you
relax
I am holding you
just be
I am holding you
still
holding you
Held
Month: August 2014
“Oops!… I Did It Again”*
Part of the work of the next few months is a re-setting of my mind because of the re-setting that has happened in my body. For most of my adult life I have gone until I can’t go ‘no more’. Then I collapse, and get up the next day and start over. That isn’t going to work any more.
My experience with my new body (I will refrain from speaking for all people with autoimmune disease) is that I have to be preventative. I eat certain foods so that I won’t have a flare. I take certain vitamins and supplements so that my body will respond better to stress. I do Pilates to help my body maintain flexibility. I rest midday so that I can go out for dinner later. I have to anticipate the effects of my actions on my body.
But I get amnesia.
I had a pretty lousy flare in April/May. This isn’t too surprising since I was preparing for a move, finishing a school year, anticipating one daughter’s high school graduation and the other daughter’s college graduation, saying goodbye to many friends, etc. Stressors incite flares. Life, even ordinary life, is stressful. April and May were a bit over the top.
June and July were lovely. I was at home, on my own pace, packing a box or two a day, resting at various times throughout the day, eating well, exercising well, reading, doing puzzles, and seeing friends.
So I forgot what happens when I do too much.
I think I wanted to believe that it wouldn’t happen again. I mean, we were in the physical process of moving for about ten days and I felt fine. When I got tired, I took a little break. On the actual move day, I had to take a few more breaks than usual, but still, no flare.
Ten days in Ann Arbor, unpacking, socializing, running errands, taking breaks, exercising, and I was feeling just fine. In fact, so fine, that I felt like the old me!
So, on Wednesday, when I went out for my walk with Chester, I actually ran a bit. I haven’t run in quite a while. And it felt great. I was cautious. But, I ran.
Then on Thursday, I woke up, wrote my blog, drank my tea, and then pretended I was the old me for about two hours — cleaned and vacuumed out the car, washed three windows inside and out, vacuumed our little house front to back, and Swiffered the kitchen and dining room.
And then it happened.
It wasn’t like my batteries wore down or something. It was like someone unplugged me. I hit the bed and knew I had gone too far. It wasn’t even noon.
We had a guest arriving at 1. My husband wanted me to meet some staff members at 4:30. And a new friend was coming in the evening to learn the ropes of Chester-sitting so that we can go on a trip this weekend.
Yes, you read that right. We are going on a trip this weekend. Our oldest is getting his MBA tomorrow in Cincinnati and we are moving our daughter from Chicago to Ann Arbor on Sunday.
And I’m unplugged.
When I woke this morning, I discovered that my reserve battery had charged a little in my sleep, so I tidied the guest room for the overnight guest who is coming on Sunday. (Are you hearing all this?) And re-made the bed for our friend who is staying with Chester.
I’m not getting it, am I?
Do I really need another smack-down in order to learn how to pace myself and take breaks? Why is it that doing is so satisfying to me? Why am I not content with being?
I believe I have received grace this morning, because I don’t feel as poorly as I did last evening. So, I am going to slow down, acknowledge that God is God and I am not. Do a little Pilates. Breathe. Put my feet up. Read. Drink my kale-berry-banana-flax smoothie. And try, really try, to be still.
Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth. Psalm 46:10.
*Spears, Brittney. “Oops!… I Did It Again.” Oops!…I Did It Again. Jive, 2000.
(This citation is for my former students who know that you have to give credit where credit is due.)
Grace period
We are going to call August the ‘Grace period’. Because our daughters are here with us and we are helping them transition to their ‘next chapters’, I keep telling people things like “After August, we’ll have you over for dinner,” “After August I’ll be available for that.” People are very happy to give me a month. And I am comfortable giving myself a month.
I have said publicly that I am not going to start looking for work until January. And I will hold true to that. But yesterday a gray area appeared. I was asked by my husband’s superior if I would meet with two different groups to offer ‘input’. I gave him my standard, “nothing in August” response. And he was fine with that. But the question arose internally, “What are you going to say ‘yes’ to, little girl?”
Am I going to actually rest? Or am I going to fall into my old pattern of getting busy and filling my time? How much is manageable? How much is too much? Certainly a lunch meeting will not interrupt this season of restfulness. A few conversations won’t overtax me, right?
Right?
I don’t know.
I have been in Ann Arbor for eleven days. We have unpacked boxes; we have set up our systems in the house — kitchen, laundry, office. We have visited with old friends. We have made new friends. I have blogged. I have walked. I have napped. I have visited two doctors. I have renewed my Michigan driver’s license. I have baked a pie, and made mimosas. I have laughed. I have watched movies. I have almost read a whole book. I opened the first puzzle box.
It’s been lovely. It’s a grace period. A time when I make no commitments. A time to heal. And I already know that August is not going to be enough.
The nest will be empty starting on September 5th. I am going to need grace to adjust to that, I know. After all, the nest has been pretty darn full since 1992! If I start making commitments and filling my calendar I won’t take the time to feel whatever I will feel when they are all gone. And I do want to feel it.
In confirmation class I learned that grace is ‘undeserved favor’. I don’t know why God has given me this gift of time to rest. No one else I know has been given all these months to be still. But who am I to take this gift and throw it away?
I am God’s child. He has given me an undeserved gift of time to be still, to recover, to heal. I am receiving this gift. I need His grace, period. So I will soak Him up during this ‘Grace period’.
My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.
2 Corinthians 12:9
Judge not, lest…
Let me just get it right out there and say that I have been a judgmental know-it-all most of my life. I think I am always right. Always have. And my face, if not my mouth, lets everyone around me know exactly what I am thinking.
Yes, yes, I have read the Bible, including, Proverbs 16:18, “Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall.” I have even quoted it to other people who I know are being prideful. You know, know-it-alls.
It is difficult when I realize that this verse applies to me.
Oh, yeah, the fall is ugly. I have learned many hard lessons over the years. I’ve already established that I am about as stubborn as they come. So, sometimes I need an object lesson, and sometimes it has to involve me directly.
For instance, I used to think I knew everything about parenting and that all children could be controlled with the right kind of discipline and structure. Enter my three genetic progeny, who have wiring similar to mine, and cue the smack-down. Yeah, that re-teaching was pretty painful.
I used to think people with ‘fibromyalgia’, ‘RA’, and all those other ‘invisible diseases’ were just lazy people looking for excuses to stay home and get disability and sympathy. (I told you I was a judgmental know-it-all.) Watching a good friend get RA almost cured me of my judgmental attitude, but living with PsA myself? Yeah, I’m over judging others’ experience of health and/or pain.
I used to think college was the only path for everyone. Well, hundreds of students, family members, and my own children have shown me that God uses multiple paths to get people where he wants them, and that I should just get my lofty degree-carrying nose out of the clouds.
I used to see things as black or white. Right or wrong. Godly or ungodly. I have realized that God is way more complex than that. Of course there are absolutes, like God is God, and I am not. I think I will stick with that one. He knows it all. I only know what he allows me to know.
He teaches me stuff through difficult life lessons, but sometimes, when I am not being such a know-it-all, I actually read His Word and find little gems like this from Proverbs 11:2, “When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom.”
Ah yes, grasshopper, wisdom.
So, I have been learning, and I am sure I will continue to learn, to be humble. I have said to myself, and to others, when I feel like judging someone, “I have no idea what their experience is.” I don’t know what put a homeless man on the street or what causes him to beg for money. I don’t know why that girl has seventeen piercings and is covered in tattoos; I don’t know her experience. I don’t know why that man wore bike shorts to church (it’s true, he did, and he went to communion, too), but I am going to choose to not judge him, although I think I kind of just did, didn’t I?
I am a work in progress. I am still learning not to judge. Judging doesn’t bring us closer to people. It separates us. Love draws us closer. Listening draws us closer. Learning draws us closer. Closer is nice.
Expect the Unexpected, chapter 2
It’s funny, isn’t it? The way that our expectations of how something will be shape our attitude in the now. Yesterday morning I was in a funk because of what I thought the day would be, but it turned out nothing at all how I thought it would.
The phone call about college finances was uneventful, and actually, by day’s end, we discovered that the situation, which was very manageable to begin with, was actually even better than we thought. Why I ever worry about money after all the ways we have been provided for over the years, I will never know.
The shopping that I thought was going to consume my day turned into a thirteen dollar purchase at a local grocery store, an online backpack purchase, and two Starbucks drinks.
The doctor’s appointment was potentially stressful, since my Google calendar converted the 1:00pm appointment time to 2:00pm when I moved to the Eastern time zone. But, even though I arrived at 1:40, they checked me in and I was seen by a corneal specialist who, two and a half hours later, determined that my eyes look great.
I got to leisurely cook a fabulous chicken curry dinner and enjoy it in the dining room with my husband and my daughter. I finished my day reading fiction, that I chose, and that I can finish or not, whatever I decide.
Yesterday was, by all counts, a pretty great day, in spite of my grumbling.
So, ok, ok. I am trying to learn this lesson. “Be Still, little girl, uncross your arms and unwrinkle your brow. I have got this. I am God. I have never left you or forsaken you. I’ve actually carried you in the palm of my hand for 48 years. So, sit back, calm down, trust me. I have got you.” ( Bible, Rathje Revised Version.)
So today’s plan is to just sit in His hand, internally being still, while I watch and see what He does. You in?
No words.
Seriously. I don’t have any words. I have been sitting here staring at a blank page for a while now and I find I don’t really have anything to say.
Yet I feel obligated to my commitment…to put into words every day what is happening in this, my experience. My next chapter. But I feel kind of grumbly this morning. I don’t feel like connecting my life to God’s word and being encouraged. I just feel like sitting in the grumble.
That made me laugh a little. I pictured four- or five-year-old me, arms crossed, brow furrowed, bottom lip protruding. I am mad. And I want you to know it. Kind of endearing on a five-year-old. Not so cute on a 48-year-old.
And why am I grumbly? I really have no excuse.
Except that today is going to be full of details and doing and it’s not really in my control or on my time frame. I am going to have to be flexible. We’ve got a college finances question to work out, but the office doesn’t open until 9. We have items to purchase. I have a doctor’s appointment. None of it is really huge, or life-altering. It’s just the stuff of life.
Wait. I could be onto something. I will be doing today. I will actually be doing quite a bit of doing. And, darn it, I’m getting used to being.
Wait. The thought just occurred to me that I have always kept doing and being separate from one another. What if I could introduce them to one another? What if I could internally be still while externally doing? What if in the midst of this hectic day I could have an inner calm that governed all my actions and interactions. Wouldn’t that change my experience? Wouldn’t that even re-frame my doing?
This, my friends, is what we in the field of education call a ‘teachable moment’. I think I am about to get schooled.
Isaiah 26:12 Lord, you establish peace for us; all that we have accomplished you have done for us.
So, the Lord accomplishes everything for me. It is not me doing, controlling, earning my value. It is Him accomplishing, providing, redeeming, protecting.
I just get to “stand firm and see the deliverance the Lord will give [me]… [I won’t] be afraid; [or] be discouraged …the Lord will be with [me]” 2 Chronicles 20:17.
So, I don’t have to be grumbly. I can be at peace, the peace that God established inside of me. I can still do, but in a way that is more like watching God provide the answers. I will be still today in the doing. At least I will try.
I come for healing, Re-visit
Today is Move-in Day at this place we call home. Thirty-four years ago, I was moving in as a student; just over five years ago, I moved in as the wife of the Dean of Students. Both times I’m shown up on this campus, I’ve been just a bit broken, and both times this space has provided the time, the resources, and the community in which I find healing. I wrote this post in on August 3, 2014, when I thought my biggest problem was my health. As I revisit it today, I wonder at God’s ability to see the bigger issues and provide a space for me to be held through difficulties yet unknown to me.
Nestled beside the Huron River is a small school — Concordia University. (You can see the chapel amid the trees in the photo.) The school was started in the 1960s by the Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod, mainly to prepare young people for service in the church. The chapel sits in the heart of its campus. Christ is at the heart of its mission.
And we get to be here! My husband is the Dean of Students, so we live right on campus as part of the community. This beautiful scene is in my backyard!
I have lived here before, as a student, back in the ’80s. The place is familiar, to be sure, but the experience is brand new. I came as a teenager before. Now, I come as an empty-nester. Big difference.
One thing is the same, though. I am here to heal.
This time I am coming to heal from several hectic years topped off with a diagnosis of autoimmune disease. Last time I came after an overwhelming freshman year of college topped off with an eating disorder. Both times, God intervened and brought me to this place to heal.
I still can’t explain what happened in 1985 — how I left a Big Ten university in the middle of Michigan to pay more at a small private college in Ann Arbor, but I know it saved my life — my physical and my spiritual life. It put me on a path to wellness.
The other day, when I was walking along the Huron and glanced across to see the chapel, something clicked in my mind. Last year, we were not looking to move back to Michigan. My husband was not looking for a higher ed position. But God used his people to step into our situation and bring us here to Concordia. And, again, I am on a path to wellness.
For over three years in the 1980s I felt held at Concordia while I sorted out the issues of my eating disorder. It was an emotionally chaotic time, to be sure, but I felt held — held by Christian friends who saw me, held by faculty who noticed and cared for me, held by the school nurse who pointed me toward help, and held, ultimately, by God.
So, coming back to Concordia feels secure, safe, comforting. Again, I feel held. I’ve only been here a week, but I feel at peace. Knowing the healing I experienced here in the ’80s gives me great hope. I am looking forward to healing again. I am believing God’s words through Jeremiah that “[God] will heal [me] and will let [me] enjoy abundant peace and security” Jeremiah 33:6.
Certainly I don’t think this healing can only happen at Concordia. Or next to the Huron River. But I do believe that healing comes only through God. And that, for me, He has done that here at Concordia.
I am here for healing.
The River
Do you see that view? I can see that every day on my walk with Chester. It is just down the street at Gallup Park. Although I am in a city, I can take a short walk and totally escape from people, pressures, reality. This is where I get to live.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I miss St. Louis — my friends, my house, the smell of the brewery, Forest Park, LaFayette Square. It will always be very dear to me.
But, you know, I think I am going to like Ann Arbor. In the past week, as we have settled, I have begun to develop some routines — Pilates, morning tea, blogging, five minutes of stillness, and a daily walk by the Huron River. This walk is a pause from reality. Inside Gallup Park, I don’t notice the sounds of the city. I am engulfed in the smell of water, flowers, freshness — pure Michigan. I see ducks, geese, and such a wide variety of people doing exactly what I am doing — breathing.
I lose track of time. I forget agendas. I relax. Guys, it’s like being still!
I can hear some grumblers saying, “I bet you won’t be walking there in January!” Good point. I haven’t quite forgotten what Michigan winters are like. They are cold, to be sure. But I also remember that they are stunningly beautiful. So, I wonder if I will still venture out, like a real Michigander — clad in boots, parka, hat, and gloves — to see what this view looks like fifty degrees cooler. I hope so!
In the mean time, I am going to continue my routine — Pilates, tea, blogging, five minutes of stillness, and my daily walk by the river. Because I have noticed that there, He “extends peace to [me] like a river” Isaiah 66:12.
Being Still 0, Doing 1
It’s gonna take some time for me to learn how to be still. I had a few small victories yesterday, but overall, I was pretty focused on accomplishing the tasks on my to-do list. And, you guessed it, I skipped the part about being sad and crying over my losses.
So, let’s focus on the victories first: ten minutes of Pilates (this really helps with my joint pain and flexibility), a one-hour walk beside the Huron River (simply beautiful), dinner with old friends, wine with new friends, Law and Order, and blogging. To me, this all classifies as being still. I am aware, however, that there are levels of stillness that I am not tapping into; I am not there yet. It’s going to take some time.
So, in the area of doing — I organized over one hundred books in the office, I cleared out half the boxes in our daughters’ room, I ran to the grocery store. It always feels so good to me to have something tangible to demonstrate how I spent my day. My husband came home for lunch and I was practically giddy with excitement when I showed him my progress; I was like a little child!
It’s going to take some major shift for me to let go of doing and hold on to being. I will give myself some slack because our truck arrived three days ago and it takes some doing to settle in. But, I want to start today to practice being still. And I think I mean lying down, awake, doing absolutely nothing. I think I am going to try for five minutes. No phone. No Words with Friends. No book. No TV. No music. Just stillness. Five minutes. I think that is what I can handle.
Being the do-er that I am, I am not even going to pray during that time. Even prayer can become, for me, doing. So prayer can be on my checklist, but not part of my stillness. I am telling you, I am one stubborn girl. Change is going to have to be intentional.
I think I have sent the message to myself and the people around me, chiefly my family, but also my students, that what I do, what you do, translates into value. The more I do, the more value I have. The more impressive my actions, the more impressive me.
This flies in the face of everything I have learned about God, and more specifically Jesus. He loves me. Period. He values me. Period. More than many sparrows. This is not conditional love or value. It is love and value that reflects His character, not my performance. “For God so loved the world, that He gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16. Whoever believes. Period.
That’s what my five minutes of stillness will be used for today. I will be still and believe, for five minutes, that He is God, and that He loves and values me. Wanna join?
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