Belief: Then & Now

Jul 2, 2021 | Hope & Encouragement, Spirituality

There was a time in which any question about what I believed merited a simple, obvious, and expected answer. After all, I grew up in the church, went to Christian summer camps and later, a Christian college, was a missionary (!!), married a pastor, led Bible studies for women, even went to Seminary and got my Master of Divinity degree. I had a definitive understanding of who God was – and wasn’t. Until I didn’t.

In the midst of all this, I divorced the pastor and left the church. I stopped teaching bible studies (though I do still tell its not-honored-enough-stories of women). And hardly definitive, I have an ever-shifting understanding/perception of the Divine. Which is exactly the way I like it!

Distance from past beliefs, even from religion itself, does not mean disconnection from belief.

I still need and want to believe. NOT because I’m ailing or unmoored without such. NOT because I need something or Someone to rely on. But because what I believe in, how I believe, belief in-and-of-itself is what compels and shapes my story, my life, my world.

What has changed, of course, is the what and who – subject and object.

Now, what and who I believe in is me.

In many ways, the world in which I was raised taught me just the opposite. I learned to place my full reliance in the God that dwelled outside of me (at best, in my heart). I learned that I couldn’t trust myself or my desires. I learned that my body/feelings/thoughts were unreliable. I learned that I needed to be forgiven in order to be worthy of God’s saving. Until I un-learned all of these things.

There is no need to choose between belief in the Divine and belief in self.

Here is what I believe today:

I believe in the Divine that dwells within me.
I believe in (and trust) my desires.
I believe in the wisdom, knowledge, and intuition present in my body, my feelings, my thoughts.
I believe I am worthy; I don’t need saving.

None of these are at the expense of belief in the Divine, in the Sacred, in every-and-all things spiritual. These beliefs, when in place and practiced, are the Divine, the Sacred, the most spiritual presence and expression possible. Said another way, this:

We see, know, and experience the Divine, the Sacred, every-and-all-things spiritual when we are truly and fully ourselves.

And that? You and me living truly, boldly, out loud, full of desire and fully ourselves? Well, that might be enough to start a revival…or at least encourage a couple conversions!

May it be so.

Sit still. Be quiet. Feel.

Jun 15, 2021 | Hope & Encouragement, My sort-of Sermons, Spirituality

Now that both of my girls live miles, states, and flights away from me, I find myself transitioning into what it means to be alone.

I have done this more than once:

After my divorce when the visitation schedule began. Every other weekend, the girls would be picked up from school by their dad on Friday and I wouldn’t see them until sometime Sunday. It was excruciating.
When not just one, but both girls were in college and I simultaneously ended a 2+ year relationship. The house was quiet (and immensely clean). I had no plans. There was nothing that needed to be done or managed or cooked (or cleaned). It was excruciating.
Last August when my youngest daughter, after 6 months of being back home because of Covid, returned to her life in Montana. It was quiet (and clean) all over again. And yes, excruciating.
Last September when I left my corporate job. From endless Zoom meetings and work-to-be-done to nothing but quiet and time and space. It was excruciating.
Last November when I moved my oldest daughter from her apartment and life in Bellingham (just 90 minutes from me) to Lexington, KY (a day of flying from me). Even though she hadn’t been living at home for years, that return flight from KY to WA was excruciating – and days following, to be sure.
Every time I fly to visit one of the girls. Each return flight and for days after, I wonder what I’m doing so far from them. It’s excruciating.

I should be quick to say that there is much goodness in all of the above, as well. It’s lovely to have a clean home, far fewer responsibilities, less tension, more quiet and time and space.

But here’s the thing: when in receipt of quiet and time and space (whether that is attached to being alone, or not), I don’t seamlessly move to gratitude and appreciation. I am jumpy and distracted and irritated. I can’t settle down. I don’t feel at all myself. And I’m highly committed to distractions.

I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one.

It’s why scrolling IG and FB, watching Netflix or Amazon Prime, online shopping, eating, drinking, and any number of dissociative techniques are what we default to instead of the quiet and time and space we often wish for. (Believe me: this post is hardly a critique of such; more, a confession!)

Years ago, when the visitation schedule kicked in, I talked to a very wise woman about what all of this felt like for me. I told her about how I was scattered and frenetic, frustrated and tense, “off” somehow. And this was her advice:

Sit still. Be quiet. Let yourself feel.

Uh, no thank you! That’s the last thing I want to do!

Except that I did. And it was hard. I felt a lot. It was uncomfortable and sad and often filled with grief. Sometimes anger. A long list of unanswerable questions that, when looked at more closely, led me to deep fears – which I didn’t like feeling and wanted to avoid (by getting up from the couch and making popcorn and pouring a glass of wine and turning on Netflix).

Despite her wisdom and even the years since that I’ve been following her counsel, I still lean toward the distractions. They’re always right there – like a bowl of potato chips – calling my name. (Sometimes the distraction is a bowl of potato chips!)

Thankfully though, my recovery time is getting quicker. Only because I continue to do what she said. It’s not my first impulse, even my second; but eventually I turn within, to the wisdom that resides there, to what is underneath and underneath and underneath – all of which deserves to be heard…and felt.

I do sit still. I can be quiet. And even though it often-and-still feels daunting and scary, I let myself feel. (Just so you know: it’s far less excruciating than it once was.)

I ask myself the following:

What do you feel, exactly?
Can you name it? Will you?
What’s underneath that feeling?
And what’s underneath that feeling?
What will happen if you let yourself stay with the feeling underneath that one instead of jumping up to avoid it?

Easier asked than answered, to be sure.

To actually feel what we feel, to give our deepest heart the gift of space and time, is scary and daunting (and potentially unraveling).

But here’s what is more true:

You have BIG and deep and powerful feelings. They matter. And to feel them is the bravest work you’ll do in a lifetime, for your lifetime (over and over again). When you allow them, they are the very things that invite you home to yourself and into the wisdom, courage, and strength that is already and always yours.

Yes, it’s scary and daunting (and potentially unraveling). Yes, any distraction feels far more desirable. And…self-awareness and growth and transformation and sovereignty is what we’re after, yes? Which is why these three simple steps become devotional practice:

Sit still. Be quiet. Feel.

I know. Deep breaths. I’m right there with you.

This is not for the faint of heart. As you let yourself feel, it is inevitable that you uncover places of harm and grief, emotions you’ve learned to repress, patterns you’ve developed that keep you safe – understandably! To let yourself feel – without restraint or censure – is brave and amazing. Choosing to stay present to every aspect of your story is the most beautiful and sacred work you can ever do. I promise.

May it be so.

*****

As always, I welcome your thoughts, your questions, your response, even your resistance (which I get, believe me!) I’ll definitely stop with the popcorn and cooking shows to respond!! I promise.

Photo by Susan Wilkinson on Unsplash

6 Ways to Access Your Inner Wisdom

Jun 7, 2021 | Hope & Encouragement, My sort-of Sermons, Sovereignty, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom

It’s taken me a lifetime to learn that I can trust myself and my own knowing instead of needing to rely on external sources of wisdom: parents, authority figures, teachers, professors, religious leaders, experts, even books.

I spent decades convinced that I was missing some crucial piece of information, that there was a magic pill or silver bullet or golden key that, if I could but find, would make sense of everything. Surely life couldn’t be this hard. Surely there were answers just waiting for the right questions to be asked (of the right people). Surely I should do better, be better, and rise above every struggle and challenge.

I believed that the wisdom I so desperately needed was “out there”; even more, that anything within me was suspect, if not untrustworthy and dangerous.

What I’ve (slowly) earned is that everything I was looking for was already and always mine. I have every bit of the wisdom I need. I am trustworthy. And “dangerous” might be the very best thing.

Despite how long it’s taken me – and the ways in which I still have miles to go – I have picked up a few things along the way. Maybe, just maybe I can speed up even a few of my lessons-learned for you.

Here are 6 (of so many) ways to access your inner wisdom:

1. Give yourself permission to spill everything. Whether on a piece of paper, a new document on your laptop, and/or in sacred space with a therapist, Spiritual Director, or coach. Unedited. Uncensored. Unrestrained. We spend so much time with the opposite: editing, censoring, holding back. Listen to all the chatter in your brain. Let your fear speak or shout. And let it all out in a contained and trusted way. When you let yourself say everything, you’ll hear what’s most true, what rises above the din, what your soul longs to sing out, what your heart knows.

2. Practice articulating one true thing every day. Just one. That’s all. Speak out loud (to a person) one thing that is honest and completely consistent with what you hear and know within. Then feel what that feels like – for you! When you begin to speak your wisdom (in fits and starts, even with baby steps), more of your wisdom will rise up and long to be expressed. I promise.

3. Let others’ responses and reactions become your divining rod, your GPS, the exact data you need to know you’re on the right track. Exactly!

4. Pay attention to anything that has you leaning toward staying in line, following the rules, not upsetting any apple carts. Then ask yourself: What do I really think about this? The answer? Yep. Your inner wisdom – speaking up.

5. Notice where are you clear that things are not OK as-is. In a relationship. At work. Something you witness online. In the larger culture. All of these and then some. That discontent you sense, that frustration, that grief? Mmmmm. That IS your wisdom. It’s revolutionary and radical and all about transformation. Because it’s just that wise!

6. Look back. When was a time in which you DID hear and trust your inner wisdom? What happened? What was the impact? How does that impact still reverberate through time? See how powerful you are? You and your wisdom can be trusted. More of that please!

You are the best and most reliable source of wisdom ever. Look within. Look within. Look within. You’ll find every bit of the insight and direction and guidance you need, desire, and deserve. ‘Promise.

And just in case you’re wondering, yes: there are external sources of wisdom that are of value. Of course! But not when they conflict with that know-that-you-know-that-you-know voice within. Not when they cause you to second-guess or question yourself. Not when they even hint that you don’t know. Not when following them means you quiet down or shrink back or play small or compromise or comply or swallow your truth or, or, or…

Did I mention? You are the best and most reliable source of wisdom ever. Look within. Look within. Look within.

*****

Which of these feels the most scary or risky for you? That one? It’s the place to start. It’s where your wisdom is already bursting at the seams and longing to pour forth. Start small. Build the muscle. And watch what happens, over time, when your wisdom is not only accessed, but trusted and expressed.

Hit “reply” or send me a DM and let me know what resonates for you, where you feel the most resistance, or what situation or circumstance or relationship you already know is in dire need of the wisdom that is uniquely yours. I’d love to hear. Really!

Steps that count vs. counting steps

May 3, 2021 | Hope & Encouragement, My sort-of Sermons, Sovereignty, Women's Wisdom

I have an Apple Watch that I rarely wear. It enables me to count my steps which, on good days, encourages me, but on less-than-good ones has me feeling less-than-good about myself, even though I did take steps, did actually move, did get up from my desk at least a few times! Still, it’s this latter reality that keeps me from wearing the watch at all.

I don’t like feeling like the steps I have taken don’t count.

It strikes me that courage is a lot like this:

On good days, I’m more than happy to count all the ways that I’ve demonstrated it, held fast to it, remained committed. I can see the ways in which it is moving me toward my goals…and then some. But on less-than-good days I can’t take much pleasure in any steps…even though they absolutely exist because they don’t seem like enough, I’ve not taken enough of them, they’re not spectacular or Watch-worthy!

*sigh*

We often feel like courage has to be ginormous, amazing, bigger than life, cliff-jumping-esque. Certainly, such displays and experiences of courage do exist. But if they become the standard (like the bare-minimum of 10k steps), we become disheartened by anything less; worse, we become disappointed in ourselves.

So, what’s the alternative? What’s the non-Apple-Watch version of courage?

Any step at all matters, even (and maybe especially) the tiniest and most incremental.

Tiny steps of courage make an amazing difference and enable the kind of ongoing movement, transformation, and change you desire and deserve.

An example:

I used to get super-irritated at myself when I wouldn’t just say what I actually felt, speak my mind, tell my truth. I spent an inordinate amount of time in my head – spinning about with thoughts like:

If I say what I actually think and feel, all hell will break loose. (But wait! This IS what I think and feel! Shouldn’t I be able to express that, no matter what?)
They won’t be able to handle it – or me. (If they can’t handle me, why is that my problem?)
It’s only going to make things worse; I need to figure out another way through this issue or problem or reality. (Why am I still deliberating about this? Really?!?)

And this spinning, this craziness? Milliseconds. The list was far longer, believe me – and endlessly on repeat.

One day I decided to experiment with something, just a little thing, the tiniest promise to myself:

Just one time today, you will tell the truth. Just one time today you will align your inner thoughts with your outer words/actions. Just once. That’s all. Nothing more is required.

Amazingly, I did it! And miracle of miracles, the world did not come crashing down around me. Some days were harder than others, to be sure, but still, I survived them. And even more amazing? Over time I realized that I my capacity to demonstrate courage was building, getting stronger – like a muscle. Those tiniest of steps began to add up. And what at one time had looked like an uncrossable chasm, eventually just required one more tiny step to now be on the other side.

What if you experimented? What if you made a promise to yourself? What if you chose the tiniest, seemingly inconsequential step and then repeated it day after day after day?

That, dear friends, takes courage.

That, dear friends, IS courage.

Any step at all matters, even (and maybe especially) the tiniest and most incremental.

And when you choose to take those steps, even (and maybe especially) honor them and yourself over and over again? That, dear friends, is sovereignty.

May it be so.

Non-existent, but no less real (February 29)

Mar 1, 2021 | Hope & Encouragement, My sort-of Sermons, Women's Wisdom

My father died a year ago today.

No, that’s not quite right.

He died on February 29, 2020. That day doesn’t exist this year – or next, or the year after that.

The fact that the date itself is not on my calendar, doesn’t prevent me from remembering, reflecting, and honoring him. Still, it’s a strange phenomena: to have such a significant marker arrive and almost pass me by, to not be something I can land on, see in front of me, capture, or hold.

Perhaps because this is so, I am even more aware of him, his life, his death, and his ongoing influence on and presence in my life. Maybe it’s something being intangible that makes it all the more real, more true.

And this makes me wonder about something else equally (and perhaps even more) intangible…and real…and true.

As we develop, mature, grow, and transform, we move from reliance on the voices and seeming-wisdom of those around and outside us to an awareness of and trust in the voice and actual-wisdom we hold within. We learn to listen to our intuition. We are willing and able to hear our deepest heart. We know-that-we-know-that-we-know.

But like February 29, there is little to validate such – at least externally. It requires that we hold onto something WE know, but that others can’t easily see, name, or acknowledge. It requires that WE be the ones to remember, reflect, and honor who we truly are. It requires that WE mark, name, and denote all the brilliance and beauty we hold within. And all of this without measure, without out-loud celebration, without any date on the calendar.

As I think about my dad, I know he’d understand what I’m talking about. Our best conversations were always philosophical in nature. Unanswerable and intangible questions that we wrestled to the ground. Endless unknowing that we attempted to lasso and hold – even for a moment – before it slipped out of our grasp. Books we’d read, things we’d pondered and perseverated on, stories we’d lived or heard that captured something nebulous, mysterious, glimmering, and true. Always heady. Always stimulating. Sometimes frustrating. And endlessly reliable: his thinking, his pushing the boundaries, his deep desire for knowing, understanding, and being, and his requirement that I do and be the same.

So, on this non-day – February 29 or March 1 – I’m holding on to three irrefutable but un-markable truths:

This day, the day my father left our presence, exists and is real – whether seen and named on my calendar, or not. It’s deserving of a date. He is. And, as my mom acknowledged in his memorial service, it was just like him to die on a leap year so that we’d only have to remember him every four years. Mmm hmm.
My wisdom, my knowing, my heart is as reliable (and even more so) than the wisdom that can be named, written down, memorialized, taught in institutions, praised in public forums, or canonized in sacred tomes.
This is true about your wisdom, your knowing, your heart, as well.

You, me, all of us have vast and infinite opportunity to believe and trust in ourselves – our wisdom, our knowing, our heart. It doesn’t matter that it can’t be proven, that it’s different from the status quo, that it defies cultural norms, that it upsets the apple cart, that there’s no date on the calendar.

And if you’re struggling to believe this, to trust this, to be this, you can be certain that my dad is holding every bit of it on your behalf. Me, too. I am my father’s daughter, after all.

Refrigerator-Magnet Wisdom

Feb 15, 2021 | Hope & Encouragement, My sort-of Sermons, Sovereignty, Women's Wisdom

Last month I was in a bookstore in Lexington, KY with both of my daughters. We wandered in three different directions, as we often do – drawn to different things, different genres, our own stories speaking through what we collected as we walked through the aisles.

One of the girls called out to me, motioning me over to the rounder filled with magnets. And this, now impossible to ignore on my fridge, offers me exactly the reminder and the wisdom I need, multiple times each day.

Whatever you are meant to do, do it now. The conditions are always impossible.

Indeed.

But oh, how we wish for different conditions…

before we have that hard conversation.
before we make that needed decision.
before we hit “publish” on that blog post or sales page or amazingly updated bio.
before we say “yes.”
before we say “no.”
before we speak our mind.
before we tell our truth.
before we step forward.
before we let ourselves be truly seen.
before we trust our wisdom.
before we act on our wisdom.
before we launch.
before we let go.
before we write that text, that email, that post, that book.
before we take care of ourselves.
before we do pretty much any number of the things we know are ours to do…

All of this is understandable.

We believe that if the conditions were different, then all of these things would be far easier and way less risky.

But here’s what I wonder – for myself and for you:

If the conditions were different (far easier, less risky) would the benefit, the impact, the “result” of doing any/all of these things be as profound and powerful?

It seems to me, at least with hindsight, that what seemed most impossible at the time was, in fact, what made the biggest difference, invited the most change, transformed me. Had I waited until the conditions were more favorable, it might have passed me over entirely – the experience, the moment, the leap into the unknown, the bold and beautiful (and difficult and risky) choice.

Doris Lessing is right, of course: now is the time for us to do what we are meant to do. Not once things are better, easier, calmer, figured-out, mitigated, or resolved. Now.

Heavy sigh. Deep breaths. (Both are reasonable here.)

As I look at this magnet, again and again, I see my resistance and, most of all, my fear. I can call it “conditions,” but at the end of the day, fear is what I’m faced with – and what I’m invited to name, acknowledge, and heal by choosing sovereignty instead.

It’s me (and you) showing up in exactly these conditions, whether impossible or not, and…

having that hard conversation.
making that needed decision.
hitting “publish” on that blog post or sales page or amazingly updated bio.
saying “yes.”
saying “no.”
speaking your mind.
telling your truth.
stepping forward.
letting yourself be truly seen.
trusting your wisdom.
acting on your wisdom.
launching.
letting go.
writing that text, that email, that post, that book.
taking care of yourself.
(insert any and everything else that you know belongs on this list)
doing all the things you know are yours to do…not someday, but now.

This is why I have created SOVEREIGNTY. Because I know the “someday” and the waiting on perfect conditions is exhausting and endless…

SOVEREIGNTY is a 9-week program that acknowledges the conditions (and your conditioning). It invites you to walk straight into the truth of your life with courage and grace. And it provides the advocacy and generosity and support you desire and deserve – so that you can do what you are meant to do. Not someday. Not when the conditions are right. Right now.

And since you can’t walk past my fridge multiple times a day, let me repeat this one more time on your behalf:

Whatever you are meant to do, do it now. The conditions are always impossible.

The conditions aren’t the issue. Not really. You, being you – glorious and wise and brave and yes, sovereign – in the midst of them is what matters and makes all the difference.

Let’s do that – together!

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