Monthly Archives: February 2014

Clutter, Decluttering and Lent…

27 Thursday Feb 2014

Posted by in Lent, meditation, spirituality

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Clutter is making the news these days. I could go on a serious rant about clutter in the media citing a plethora of reports about people or groups of people that have little to do with anything at all. For example, I don’t care which Hollywood-type spoiled young adult did something to stir a media feeding frenzy. Truly, I really don’t care except to rant that those types of articles clutter our media sources with so much similar meaningless ‘stuff’ that it’s hard to find the things that matter. But, that’s not the clutter the media has been reporting.

A recent national publication dedicated their entire March issue to clearing clutter from your life. All kinds of clutter was mentioned from something as trivial as a junk drawer stuffed with unidentifiable, yet saved, objects to the more serious issue of relationships that suck the life out of you rather than being restorative. A Sunday morning show presented a segment on hoarders, people who cannot throw anything away, including things like newspapers, magazines and old cereal boxes hoping that someday they will find a need for them. There are also those who are fundamentally mini-hoarders. They have what appear to be neat and tidy houses…just don’t open a closet door for fear their stashes of stuff will tumble shamelessly onto display when there is nothing to hold them back. The epitome of hoarding can be seen in the story of the Collyer brothers who lived in New York City in the early-1900’s. It was during the removal of 140-tons of collected chaos from their home that the body of one brother was found buried beneath a pile of newspapers and suitcases. He had been crushed while navigating through a tunnel of compiled debris and set off a booby trap they constructed to protect their obsessive treasures from potential thieves.

Clutter. I guess we all have it to an extent. Our preoccupation with abundance and consumerism influences our sense of how much is enough. The belief that if a little is good, more is better promotes a desire for copious amounts of possessions for some. Others collect and hoard in response to deprivation at another time in their lives. Still others are influenced by advertising campaigns or the desire to have what someone else has. Oops, doesn’t that sound something like ‘coveting’…something that got a spot on God’s top-10 list of rules for getting along? I know I digress, but that whole covet-thing could have been written more clearly if the tablets given to Moses said something like, “Just be happy with what you have. It’s not about the stuff!”

Garage sales are common this time of year. When our kids were little, I would drive them around town looking for other’s cast offs of cheap toys and children’s clothes. It helped to stretch our meager budget and it was an afternoon of entertainment for all of us. My perspective has changed over the years from visiting other’s sales to the realization I may need to have my own garage sale as a means to unload some of our clutter. It’s time to clean the closets, basement and attic. Additionally, the garage will need to be de-cluttered so we have a place to store treasures for said sale. Most years I manage to clean a closet or two, haul a carload of boxes and sacks to a donation site and forget the idea of a sale. It also means I neglect to clean the basement, attic or garage where things continue to indiscriminately multiply when I’m not looking. Clutter.

Clutter not only takes over our space, it steals our time. I had a conversation with a friend the other day about finding time to do the things that are important to us. So much of our definition of what’s important comes from the affirmation of those around us. Unfortunately, that affirmation tends to come from a cultural approach that endorses work and achievement to the detriment of taking care of one’s self. Necessities of life like sleep, exercise, and the occasional mani/pedi can be perceived as unimportant events that do nothing but steal our focus from what society deems important. Time for relationship building, particularly our relationship with God, can take a back seat to the presumed duty to acquire more, whether it is status, power, authority and/or the possessions that announce we have achieved some crazy level of lifetime success. Clutter.

I am intrigued by the concept of clutter, particularly as Lent approaches. Although spiritual disciplines are intended to be important practices throughout the year, Lent seems to shake us up enough to remember their value in daily life. We are reminded that fasting comes in many forms, not simply to abstain from eating for a meal or a day. Fasting, or giving something up, for Lent is a means to open our lives to something else, presumably something that strengthens our relationship to God. Yet, we live in a time of abundance. To give up just one thing when we are surrounded by so much seems silly not to mention disingenuous. Give up sugar? Fine, I’ll use honey. No more satellite news? Okay, there’s still the Wall Street Journal. Leave behind my coffee habit? Not on your life…but if I did, I could substitute tea or cocoa when craving a hot beverage. Ice cream? Yup, gelato or sorbet are perfect stand-ins. There is an adequate, if not exciting, replacement for almost everything negating the intended contemplation associated with fasting of any kind. Because of that, I am not going to focus on what I am giving up for the season. This year I am going to pause and give myself the gift of space.

To do so, I will need to make room by clearing out some clutter. The plan is to select one item each day of Lent that can be donated, recycled or thrown away. It is my intention to meditate on the selected item. What did it represent to me? Why was, or is, that important? What am I making room for by letting go of the item? Somedays it will be easy. I mean, how many coffee makers does one household need? Shall we talk about drawers filled with socks? Is there any reason to have a closet full of old pillows and blankets?

The hard days will be the ones when I attempt to clear the clutter from myself. Old hurts and frustrations fill spaces in the heart just as much as tangible objects can be crammed into living spaces. Emotional wounds affect how one receives compassion from another; fears affect the places one goes or the experiences and people one is open to; self-doubt and condemnation can keep one from living into their potential; and obsessing about foibles and problems can limit our ability to see the full glory of God’s love and presence in all that is. These things are the clutter that strangles the spirit by filling personal thoughts with negativity and pain until there is no space left for hopes and dreams.

The promise of Lent is that when we experience the darkest of dark; when we are absorbed with life’s issues whether they are big or small; when we find ourselves running faster and faster and getting no where; and when we are simply tired of stress or frustration or that nagging sore hip, Easter will come offering new life. Clearing the clutter gives us the space we need to recognize which direction we are being called by that which loves us beyond our wildest imagination and which direction is simply extending an enticing hand to pull us deeper into the abyss.

Spring, Life and the Coming of Lent…

21 Friday Feb 2014

Posted by in Lent, spirituality

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As I look beyond the remnants of winter’s smudges and stains on my window toward an ancient oak tree in the front yard, my excitement swells in response to the inevitable coming of spring. Yes, it’s almost time to get out the buckets and rags to clean said glass, but not quite yet. Grass is more prevalent than snow today. It might be for only a short time, but it is indeed a glorious sight! Buds on the trees and shrubs are becoming visible, like tiny goose bumps on fragile limbs.  Their expectant promise of bursting into blossoms and leaves instills hope and the anticipation of change. A stream of water from melting ice and snow lazily flows next to the curb, looking for a place to either create a magnificent puddle or disappear into the storm sewer drain. Lucy, the puppy-girl, bounds around the back yard, thrilled beyond belief as she finds toys that were previously hidden beneath drifts and are now revealed. Her muddy paws remind me that I need to keep a rag close to the door. I thoroughly share her excitement that instead of hard, cold ground we have patches of fragrant wet soil begging for seeds to find their way into them so new life can be established.

Spring. It isn’t here yet, but it doesn’t take much imagination to realize it is close.

It’s a curious thing to ponder the seasons. Winter offers us the opportunity to rest. It is such a joy to pull out a good book, light a fire in the fireplace, find a big blanket and spend the afternoon reading and sipping tea. A similar afternoon six months from now will come during a season that begs us to spend time walking, hiking, canoeing, gardening and experiencing God’s world outside the confines of our homes. Spring and fall let us know that we are approaching change much like a crescendo, or decrescendo, in music. Those seasons whisper to us that it’s coming…it’s coming…it’s coming. Fall slowly winds down the vivid life of summer into the stillness and quiet of winter. Spring wakes us slowly to newness and growth, hoping all the while that additional winter events don’t hit the snooze button, allowing spring to doze in and out of consciousness before it explodes with new life.

In like form the liturgical seasons give us the opportunity to experience God in different ways. We deepen our knowledge of God as we anticipate God’s presence in Advent, we met God in the person of Jesus during the Christmas season and we learn something about God’s plan and purpose for creation during Epiphany. The season of Lent leads us into a quiet time that encourages us to pull away from the routine of life and reflect on who we are in God’s world.

To do so, we have to quiet the voices around us that tell us we have to work harder; be better; do more; eat less; want more; get angry at; support this cause; dispute that cause; and generally run in circles all day trying to achieve whatever it is that our society and culture deem important. Who am I? Who was I created to be? How am I ever going to know, let alone figure it out in a mere 40 days of Lent? Sometimes it’s just easier to let life go on as it does and not confuse the issue with the results of contemplation. Yet, we know if we embrace the opportunity for rest and restoration that winter offers, we are ready for the new life of spring. In like manner, if we allow the season of Lent to wrap around us and guide us toward the hope of the next season, we will be able to get up on Easter morning knowing that we are walking into something new, wonderful and full of life.

You see, Lent is about reflection. It’s about cleaning the mirror so one can see clearly what is reflected back at them – the good stuff, as well as the warts and all that makes them who they are. And, it’s about piecing that knowledge together with what we know about God’s ways to recognize what parts of our lives need to continue as they are and what parts need tweaking.

I gave up shopping for Lent one year. A friend reminded me that Lent is not a diet, which made it completely acceptable in my mind to continue eating the traditionally eliminated vices of chocolate and desserts throughout the season. I had friends who gave up social networking or addictions to online news feeds. Others gave up television or attending parties. I felt like I had to give up something to symbolize my penitence. Shopping popped into my mind and nagged me until I gave in and signed up to avoid the mall. I could still grocery shop or purchase necessities like medications, everyday supplies and toiletries. I could not shop for clothes or frivolous household items. I really like to shop, particularly when moving from the drab colors of winter to the lively hues associated with spring. It would be a challenge to keep from buying adorable new sandals or filling a bag with fabulous seasonal home decorating accents.

The first week was embarrassing when people asked me what I gave up. I joked about being shallow or not having a transgression worse than shopping. However, by the time the season was over, I was able to clearly see the disproportionate place shopping absorbed in my life and that I needed to tame it. It wasn’t about the money I spent as much as it was about the power I allowed advertising and material things to control me. I was looking for comfort and acceptance…but I wasn’t looking in the right direction.

Lent, like winter, is a season that begs us to stop for a moment. Then, just as winter gives way to spring, Lent urges us to turn toward God and grasp the gift of hope. As we embrace the promise of spring, we are inspired to clear dead and decaying limbs and branches from the yard to make way for new plants and growth. Lent encourages us to do the same with our souls. What habits or behaviors do we need to remove from our lives completely and what things need nothing but a gentle tidying to make room for us to live in the world as God created for us to live in it?

To change directions and turn toward God is life giving. But, life can pull us in many directions making it difficult to know what direction is the right one to face. The beauty of giving something up for Lent offers us the opportunity to pause and open space in our lives for prayer and reflection, the contemplative practice that offers clarity regarding the direction one needs to turn to see the gift of new life.

Lent is coming. Will you take the challenge it offers to pause, reflect, turn and live?

On Being Still

15 Saturday Feb 2014

Posted by in meditation, spirituality

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imagesIt happened on a recent flight to visit my daughter. Understand, I am a white-knuckle, anxiety filled flyer. I have been known to play superstitious games with myself all the way from wearing, or not wearing, certain articles of clothing to practicing futile attempts at controlling any thoughts that I perceive to be inconsistent with plane staying in the air. I watch the flight attendants faces for any indication that there might be trouble. I listen for bumps and knocks that seem unusual to my untrained ears, finally realizing they can be different depending on one’s placement in the cabin. None of my tricks work as well as a glass of wine and ear buds blaring calming music intended to soothe my overly active brain.

It’s also important to know that I don’t swim.  I managed to fail beginning swimming at our local YMCA three times when I was a child. I love the ocean, but prefer to experience it from a lounge chair facing said water with plenty of sun and sand surrounding me. Mai tais are not optional. A boat is good, but only if life jackets are readily available…preferable on my body…and sharks are not part of the equation.

It should be said that my daughter lives in Hawaii. The quickest way to get to her is by air…problem #1. And, it’s an island, which means the flight spends a significant amount of time over water…problem #2. My rational brain knows that should the plane experience a tragic failure, it doesn’t matter if we are over land or water. The outcome will most likely be the same. My irrational brain is sure that it is a major miracle if we make it to our destination.

My daughter is an engineer. She tries to reassure me that aeronautical physics can be trusted. I get caught up in the concept that what appears to be nothing (air) is going to hold up an airplane, which by itself weighs a bazillion pounds before you add in the tonnage of hundreds of people in a variety of sizes and all of our assorted flip flops, shorts and swimwear. I hold onto the idea that multitudes of planes fly every day and to worry about only mine is arrogant. Then, I try not to worry about all of the other flights worldwide.

Like I said, it happened on a recent flight. I pulled my nose out of a book long enough to look out the window. I typically don’t want to busy myself with the visual of what 35,000 feet in the air looks like for fear of a panic event. But, when I actually opened the plastic window cover, took a deep breath and perused the view I had been missing, it was breathtaking! No, not in a scary-bad way. The view was beautiful beyond words, which should thrill the reader, as I won’t make a feeble attempt to describe it. Anyone who has ever flown and bothered to look beyond the interior of the plane knows what I mean. It was an angle of vision that the ancients only dreamed about, yet for a 21st Century citizen it is completely accessible if not somewhat routine. 35,000 feet? Nothing! Imagine the view from the moon! Our plane proceeded forward, calmly parting the clouds as we traveled at an amazing rate of speed.

It was then that my favorite mantra flowed through me: “Be still and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10) No, I am not proficient at meditation. I am wired to think about everything and anything, which makes the art of clearing my thoughts to focus on simply one thing is nearly impossible for me. Yet, when I am suspended in a place where conflicting thoughts bounce around my skull like freshly launched pinballs, that statement does wonders to catch my attention and make my unproductive ruminations momentarily go away.

Let’s look at the entirety of Psalm 46. Biblical scholars classify this as a song of confidence or trust. The word ‘Selah’ appears three times. Although the contemporary meaning of the word ‘Selah’ is unknown, some think it is an ancient musical directive to pause and reflect on specific verses in a song. As you read the passage, know that the ancient writer described unbelievable chaos in terms that his/her contemporaries would understand. The response is always that God is sovereign, God is in control, and God is…

1God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,
though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea;
3 though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble with its tumult. Selah

4 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy habitation of the Most High.
5 God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved;
God will help it when the morning dawns.
6 The nations are in an uproar, the kingdoms totter;
he utters his voice, the earth melts.
7 The Lord of hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah

8 Come, behold the works of the Lord;
see what desolations [solitude] he has brought on the earth.
9 He makes wars cease to the end of the earth;
he breaks the bow, and shatters the spear;
he burns the shields with fire.
10 “Be still, and know that I am God!
I am exalted among the nations,
I am exalted in the earth.”
11 The Lord of hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah

Unfortunately, we continue to find our security in things other than God. We feel safe and protected in a warm house with plenty of food and water. We feel accepted if we wear the right clothes, drive the right car or run with the right people. We feel secure as a nation if we have the biggest and most advanced technology and weapons. We rely on our government to keep us safe through laws that are designed to protect what we perceive as our basic rights. We trust that the mechanics that inspected the plane knew what they were doing and that the flight crew has our best interests at heart. These thoughts are reinforced every time we test them for truth and things turn out as we hoped they would. Yet, each of these things carries the question, “What if…?” What if the mechanic hates working for that particular airline? What if the government doesn’t see my basic rights the way I do? What if Iran develops a nuclear bomb and aims it in our direction? What if our business fails and we loose our home? What if our friends or the people we love leave us? Then what…then what…then what…? Anxiety prevails…

“Be still” isn’t a call to meditate or reflect. It’s a call to stop! Stop relying on yourself, creature comforts or others for that deep, down peace. All of those things are special and things to embrace as “good” in this life. But, Psalm 46 reminds us there is something beyond the things we can touch, see, hear, taste and feel. All things are of and from God, but God is more than all things. And, when we truly recognize that; when we internalize the belief that God is our strength and refuge; when we see God as our fortress we will experience what Paul so beautifully describes in Philippians 4:7 as, “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding…”

I felt it on that airplane. No, I wasn’t convinced that the plane would stay in the air because God loves me and would do what I want God to do. I felt a deep and comfortable peace knowing that God is always and everywhere and that no matter what happens, God will always be my strength and refuge. You see, when I remember that, I am inclined to be a kinder, gentler person, more willing to see others through eyes of compassion. Paul knew that, too. Philippians 4:7 continues with…”will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Jesus – God incarnate – who came to teach us who we are in God’s world.

I still worry about life in general, but when I remember to be still – to stop mindlessly spinning out of control – and know that God is, I find the calm and begin to see a world filled with beauty beyond my wildest imagination.

Pondering Paul, life and cooking on a snow-day…

05 Wednesday Feb 2014

Posted by in human nature, spirituality

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UnknownI love an occasional snow day. The operative word here is ‘occasional’, which is why this week has been so exciting and…well…fun! Being stuck at home becomes an opportunity to try new recipes, read and generally catch up on household tasks, although my first impulse on such a day is to go to my stack of cookbooks. This is no small event as my collection fills several shelves. I have attempted to purge the lesser-used volumes, only to find a favorite memory or recipe tucked deep within the pages making it nearly impossible to let them go. My favorites have become something like a journal with ballpoint scribbles filling the margins noting the changes I made in the original recipe to spice them up…or down…or make them creamier…or healthier…or simply to cast a bit of my own creativity on a simple item. I also noticed a significant number of my entries included nutritional counts depending on my diet of the year. Some notations focused on carbohydrate and protein counts; some a magical point system; and some simply calories. Each notation reminded me that I have spent much of my adult life trying to find the balance between my love of amazing foods and maintaining a reasonable weight for my height and build. For anyone nodding or smiling at this moment, you know exactly what I mean! I have had some long and interesting conflicts in this tug of war, yet foods, particularly if chocolate is involved, tend to dominate the contest. My name is Linda, and I am a foodie.

Admittedly, I also dabble in exercise. I have tried yoga, pilates, working with a personal trainer, running and strength training. I have joined clubs, bought DVD’s to use at home, worn pedometers and logged every activity from cleaning the bathroom to hiking several miles. If I am blatantly honest about my physical activity, I have to admit my motivation to work out is the anticipation of going face first into home baked bread slathered with fresh butter or a sinful dessert. There was even a summer when my mantra was “walking for wine” in an attempt to justify my vino-calories. The simple truth is my appetite for culinary delights tends to exceed my energy output. I know what I need to do. Seriously, I could write the next great diet and exercise book detailing what should be done. However, I struggle with doing the very thing that is considered to be good for me when faced with the temptation offered by a fabulous meal.

In his letter to the Romans, the Apostle Paul seems to get it when he said:

I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Romans 7:15

Now, in all fairness, Paul was speaking of much more exciting and important things than diet and exercise. He was speaking about the Law, sin and our human nature. Yet, it seems to cover the little things as well as the big things. How often do we know on a conscious level what we need to do for our health – whether it is the health of our bodies, our minds or the health of our relationships – but find ourselves doing the very thing we know is contrary to our wisdom? It’s more than whether or not I should enjoy that mammoth snicker doodle with my afternoon coffee. It’s the snarky attitude I adopted when I didn’t want to buy yet another box of Girl Scout cookies from a ‘neighbor’ who popped out of nowhere. Or the gesture I offered to the person who stole the parking place I saw and intrinsically knew was meant for me. Or the…or the…or the…and the list goes on until I devour that cookie to soothe whatever guilt I feel for my bad attitude and behaviors knowing full well that it’s going to take more than a hike around the block to undo what I just did.

Yup, Paul, you got it right. “I do not understand my own actions.” So, so true much of the time! “I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.” Well, not everything, but plenty to talk about. How, then, do I turn it around?

Paul also assures us that all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. (Romans 3:23). Yet, God loves us so much that nothing can separate us from God’s love. (Romans 8:38-39) To put this in perspective, Paul is essentially telling us that we are going to mess up and we are going to do things that we know are wrong. Each time we make a decision, and life certainly offers us a plethora of them, we are challenged to turn toward that which loves us unconditionally and away from something else. The more we turn toward goodness, the better we become at doing what Paul would identify as the things ‘I long to do’ and ‘not the very thing I hate’, ultimately radiating the love of the one who created us and loves us more than we can possibly imagine.

Paul gives us another clue about choosing our behaviors in Philippians 4:7-9:

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.  Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you.

Isn’t peace what we continue to search for? Paul offers a beautiful litmus test for peace and doing the right thing:  is it true, honorable, just, pure, pleasing, commendable, excellence and worthy of praise?

As a young adult I would hear the advice to “count to 10” before reacting to another’s particularly noxious behaviors. The current trend is to ask, “will this matter in 10 minutes…10 days…or ten years?” I won’t remember said parking spot in 10 days, although my neighbor will undoubtedly remember that I snubbed her daughter’s cookie business for at least that amount of time. And the snicker doodle? Maybe I’ll break it into quarters and enjoy part of it today. Otherwise it will still make its presence known on my hips for the next ten years!

The reality of my prayer is that I am able to breathe deeply enough to keep the ‘rule of 10’ in mind as I respond to the land mines of life. And, in that breath, however long it takes, may I find enough peace to behave as if I am indeed a reflection of God’s love.