Emotional Labor and Finding Renewal in God’s love

I have to complete continuing education courses to maintain my pharmacy degree. I was browsing online for some free ones to get a few of my credits in. I found one entitled, “Emotional Labor: How it can Affect the Practice of Pharmacy.”

I completed it, but I found it had application to anyone’s personal life, and probably lots and lots of people’s professional/career lives. Here’s a concept that I don’t usually hear, whether from work-related sources, or even the church much of the time:

Every patient feels that the doctor, pharmacist, etc., should care about their case like they do, but that would require far too much investment and effort. So many times it has to be “faked.”

I don’t know – last night I just found that kind of refreshingly forthright and honest. Saying aloud (in print) what we all already know. It is impossible to continuously feel what we are required/expected to portray to the outside world to whom we have covenental or contractual expectations to fulfill…those places where being genuine and letting it all hang out are simply not permissible. It didn’t say you can somehow get out of doing the right thing – acting in a compassionate, caring manner. Just acknowledging that sometimes it’ll amount to faking it. And it went on to give tips and strategies for having the best chance of having a recharged battery, and finding the wells that nourish and restore you…the places where you can let it all hang out.

Many would say faith in God is one of those places – in intimate personal prayer perhaps, where the hair can be let down, it can all hang out.   It’s hard though when you’ve spent a lifetime of acting your way into “really nice person” status and maintaining the veneer of nice respectable Christian person.  Where do you begin, and the act end, you might ask in one of your more anxious moments?  Would you like YOU, if you were able to peel away the act?  Many, and I include myself in that set, would say that true prayer is the place where the painful peeling can take place, and ironically enough, God gives reassurance that you don’t have to work so hard at being lovable.  That whole unconditional, all-forgiving love sort of thing.   And then paradoxically strengthened to return to the honest-to-goodness (sometimes hard!) emotional labor of being on for your patients and others in your life who really DO rely on you.  That kind of prayer requires courage to face yourself, and trust that God will do a good work in you and heal you.

Lord, give me courage and trust all my days.

About Me, revisited

I updated my “About Me” page today.

You see, in there I had previously referenced that I was still informally involved in the diaconal discernment process in my diocese of the Episcopal church.

As of Thursday, the letter to the bishop went in the mail.  I’m closing that chapter.

I feel pretty good about it.  Most people probably assumed I’d exited a long time ago, informal and off the radar as my explorations and Process was.  I don’t even get questions in my parish anymore.  Haven’t in a long time.

Close friends and spiritual confidantes I have been blessed with along the way have heard my wonders and struggles over these years.  Good, spiritually healthy struggles, please don’t misunderstand me.  Inwardly, it still occupied a great deal of my mental energies, despite my outward public appearances to most.

Until recently.  Then I was reminded that I really should be writing some sort of update on my discernment, or quite possibly finally saying goodbye.

Along with good bye to discernment is good bye to coordinating my small parish’s  Sunday school.  I have decided that I simply need a break.  The timing of the break may prove to be an unexpected blessing if it opens the door to an infusing of new ideas and energy in new leadership, or it may be terribly unfortunate, as we’ve been without a rector the past year, and are now on the brink of getting one.  No matter.  I had to listen to my heart on this one.  And I really and truly feel that God has laid his blessing on this…taking a break, and taking some time for renewal.

Heavenly Father.  In times of seeming silence and aloneness we need to call on faith that you remain near.  I trust and believe that you remain near, and are working in me to accomplish new growth, which I trust and believe will bear good fruit in due time.  Keep me receptive with wide open arms to what blessings and missions lie ahead…after I take a brief rest that is!  Amen.

No more tepidity for now!

I’m re-reading a book my spiritual director has re-loaned me again: “Crossing the Desert; Learning to let go, see clearly, and live simply” by Robert J. Wicks. Excellent book! I’d like to share a couple of quotes from it that are especially touching and/or convicting to me at the present time:

“Humility is the ability to fully appreciate our innate gifts and our current “growing edges” in ways that enable us to learn, act, and flow with our lives as never before. Prior to this important passage [through the narrow gate of humility] we may be drained by defensiveness or wander in our own desert chasing a false image of self that has nothing to do with who we are really meant to be.”

and another…

“[Humility] will also allow us to have the perspective, peace, and joy that comes when we know and value our ordinary transparent selves without wasting the energy it takes to add or subtract anything from whom we really are.”

and one more…

“Humility opens up a space for sound self-respect in lieu of inordinate self-doubt or unbridled self-assurance. A space for the courage needed to be ordinary instead of wasting all of our time chasing after what we believe will make us someone special.”

Let’s just say my growing edges are chafing a little right now. But the good news is I can see a little crack of light. I think I’m progressing toward that light that finally (maybe!) starts letting go of some of the wanderlust in the ol’ desert.

Time will tell. (Be near, oh God.)

Failure to Care?

Today’s quote comes from The Rule of Benedict: Insights for the Ages” by Joan Chittister, O.S.B.

“After years of trying to achieve a degree of spiritual depth with little result, after a lifetime of uphill efforts with little to show for it, the lure is to let it be, to stop where we are, to coast. We begin to make peace with tepidity. We begin to do what it takes to get by but little that it takes to get on with the spiritual life. We do the exercises but we cease to “listen with the heart.” We do the externals – the church-going and the church-giving – and we call ourselves religious, but we have long since failed to care. A sense of self-sacrifice dies in us and we obey only the desires and the demands within us.”

(Chittister expanding on Benedict’s caution against being a Sarabaite, one who has a character “soft as lead” taking for themselves a law of what they like to do. A “most detestable” kind of monastic as described by Benedict. Italicized emphases in the Chittister selection are mine.)

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One need not be a monastic to see themselves in this. I suspect a Sarabaite was “nice” enough, maybe even well-meaning enough. Chittister goes on to comment that this is a religious practice of comfort and being comfortable. A life filled with God’s love and joy tends to be one lived on the growing edges, I think, quite frequently. Growing edges aren’t always safe or cozy. Tepidity is comfortable. “Being good” can be comfortable. Looking good can be more so. Comfortable sometimes keeps us from living life to the fullest though, I think sometimes.

Heavenly Father, draw me ever nearer to your fiery heart of love, a place where all tepidity is banished and wholly out of place. Give me eyes to see as you see, ears to hear what I should hear and a heart that responds, that burns with love for you and my fellow creatures. Keep me from coasting to that valley where I fail to care. If you find me slipping and coasting back down the hill, lift me up to you until I can be made stronger to follow you more nearly and dearly. Nudge me out of the mere comfort zone and ho-hum complacency into the places where love is found, and is sorely needed. Let me live there and share there and CARE there. Amen.

Book of Common Prayer: Confessions of Sin

I’m going to just reprint the confessions of sin available in the Book of Common Prayer, as shown in Rite 1. (Rite 2 uses the second version, changing the thee’s and thy’s to you and your, but is otherwise the same.  In a recent rant, I was whining about Rite 1, and the first confession of sin I show here was used.)

Almighty God,
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,
maker of all things, judge of all men:
We acknowledge and bewail our manifold sins and wickedness,
which we from time to time most grievously have committed,
by thought, word, and deed, against thy divine Majesty,
provoking most justly thy wrath and indignation against us.
We do earnestly repent,
and are heartily sorry for these our misdoings;
the remembrance of them is grievous unto us,
the burden of them is intolerable.
Have mercy upon us,
have mercy upon us, most merciful Father;
for thy Son our Lord Jesus Christ’s sake,
forgive us all that is past;
and grant that we may ever hereafter
serve and please thee in newness of life,
to the honor and glory of thy Name;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

or this

Most merciful God,
we confess that we have sinned against thee
in thought, word, and deed,
by what we have done,
and by what we have left undone.
We have not loved thee with our whole heart;
we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves.
We are truly sorry and we humbly repent.
For the sake of thy Son Jesus Christ,
have mercy on us and forgive us;
that we may delight in thy will,
and walk in thy ways,
to the glory of thy Name. Amen.

I think I’ll just quit for now in the sharing of these wording choices that my hyperactive little ol’ brain is toying with.  I’ll try and write more of my ponderings on them later.  Peace once again! – Karla

The love of Intention

The following snippets are excerpted from the article, “Toward a Post-Christian Spirituality” by W. Paul Jones in Weavings Jan/Feb 2009 issue.

Background: talking about lack of consolations in modern faith, lack of modern reinforcements for “easy” life of faith, etc. Example given is discovered journals of Mother Teresa’s struggles and doubts, and extended dark night of the soul.

Removed from consolations, caught tautly between longing and emptiness, Teresa became convinced that emotions are both unreliable and deceptive. Never give way to your feelings, she warned her sisters, and never rely on them either for your strength or your conviction. Having lost what she called “the sweetness of presence,” the alternative as a love of intention — an act of sheer will in the face of what emotionally feels impossible. This is the post-Christian spirituality of living heroically “as if,” not “because of” but “in spite of”.

And here’s a better couple of examples of phrasing “fake it till you make it” also found in the same article! How convenient so soon after my recent post on such a thing!

While taking the temptation of unbelief on herself (Teresa), her outward smile bridged others into belief. This was not pretending the untrue to be true, but was more like Augustine’s will to believe in order to understand, and Wesley’s instruction to doubting ministers to preach it until you believe it.

Hmm. On second thought, fake it till you make it is not too far from Wesley’s advice at all, is it?

Heavenly Father, brother incarnate suffering Jesus, help us to be faithful in spite of all that is around us. Console us if you can – cuz you know we’re not as strong as Mother Teresa. But in the final analysis, make us stronger, and bring us to you in the end. Amen.

Efficacy of prayer changes us, thaws us

C. S. Lewis said that prayer might not change anything else, but he knew it changed him. Our prayer may not alter the circumstances that froze us solid, but it will start to melt our hearts, and that warmth will spread until we are supple enough to find a way forward.

I read this meditation (see below the line of asterisks in this post) a few days ago. I’ve often struggled with prayer. Why pray? It doesn’t change anything. You pray and pray and nothing changes. Oh, sure, there’s a miracle here and there, but it’s pretty random. And then there’s the notion some hold (I might add here, though, that I’m not among those that hold it!) that God’s already got it all figured out already, so even more so I might rationally ask, why pray?

Well, there’s such a thing as faking it till you make it. I’ve heard it in various circles, phrased more or less delicately or poetically, my chosen phrase being one of the LESS delicate ways of phrasing it, but in my humble opinion, no less true for its bluntness. What it means is simply this: you pray at first because you should. It’s the right thing to do. It’s not really about what’s in it for you, and fuzzy feelings of consolation for you or your loved ones. Maybe your momma told you it was the right thing to do. Maybe you’ve got this niggling sense that something’s missing in your life, and you’re partly to blame, having dropped the ball somewhere. Maybe that niggling sense is a vague sense of guilt, if your upbringing leads you down that particular pathway. And sure, maybe it’s hopefulness that this time, maybe, just maybe something WILL happen. Maybe it will “work” or “take.” You pray. And, if you’re diligent, you keep praying. Because, after all, it is the right thing to do, obvious results or none. He is God, you are creature, how can you keep from praying, when considered in a certain sense?

And maybe something happens “out there.” And just as likely nothing noticeable does. But you look back, and ever so subtly, you realize, “hey, wait a minute? Something DID happen…to me? Hmm.”

Our circumstances may or may not change for the prayer, but often as not, God changes US in the act of praying. For me anyway, usually not recognized except ever so subtly in hindsight, but always (when finally recognized!!!) with tremendous gratitude for that recognized touch of God’s presence and action in my life.

Confession time? I haven’t been praying worth a hoot lately. But the cool thing is, that I’ve got this part of me that “knows” that God’s waiting for me. It (feeling drawn to prayer again like a moth to a flame) won’t happen overnight. Nope. I’ll need to fake it several times before I make it. Well, no. Let me rephrase that. God makes it so I get it is really a better way of putting it, and I have to wait for that getting of it, however long it takes, however impatient I may become. It isn’t I who make it, but all God, and that’s just it…”me” has to be patient enough to wait on God and take what I get. That lurking memory thing though of how it can be when I do my part in maintaining a relationship knows though that what I get will be enough, and then some in abundance, even if it isn’t what I initially wished and prayed for.

What’s troubling me though is which direction shall I turn to recommit to this prayer thing? I haven’t picked up a bible with any seriousness in a good long while. I think that may just be the ticket this time around. I’ve often been greatly blessed by a contemplative, centering prayer style. I probably haven’t done lectio divina “pure” and correctly, but I think I might try a modified form of lectio divina again. Reading mostly for meditation/contemplation, partly for content/meditation. Lectio Divina is S-L-O-O-O-O-W reading, almost literally chewing the cud of the Word. Yes, I think that might just be the ticket for me at this juncture of my life.

By golly and by joe, I think I see another spiritual discipline post forming. The other thing I’ve recently happened upon is a priest friend’s Advent discipline. He seems to be taking the discipline of blogging every day during Advent. He’s had some interesting, eye-opening posts, so I think I’ll follow along there. That might take care of the paralysis of where to flop open the dear old Holy Book for said cogitations. I’ll follow the lectionary passages he’s reflecting on. Here’s a link to his blog if you’d like to follow along, too! http://tosapriest.blogspot.com/

Okay. Lately my good intentions have been just that…good intentions. Off the computer now, and off to do some prayer. I’m at the point where I miss it, and at the same ironic point, I’m getting used to being without it. And that scares me a little, to have become so casual and apathetic about it. I am neither hot nor cold, but lukewarm – the worst place to be spiritually. Ugh. I don’t want to go back to that point again. The memory maybe doesn’t fade, but it whispers more and more quietly to my soul. I need to crane my ear and listen more closely…because the words are SO worth hearing.

Come Lord Jesus, come.

Emmanuel, God with us – be known to us. (to me? May I ask for your presence that forthrightly?) Amen.

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Forward Day by Day Meditation for 11/22/08

Day in History: SATURDAY, November 22 (Clive Staples Lewis)

James 5:13-20.Are any among you suffering? They should pray.

My car was covered with a thick, opaque frost this morning. When I went out early to drive to work, it looked as inviting as a block of ice on wheels. I turned it on, cranked up the defroster, and went back inside for another cup of coffee.

When I came back out, the frost had melted, I could hear the murmur of early morning radio, and it seemed as if the car was purring happily. What a difference five minutes makes.

I think prayer works like this. There are times when we are shut down, frozen over with grief, with shock, with anger. From the outside, it feels as if we may never be ourselves again. Prayer is like turning on the defroster. Little by little, if we can stay with it and not lose heart, we will thaw from the inside out.

C. S. Lewis said that prayer might not change anything else, but he knew it changed him. Our prayer may not alter the circumstances that froze us solid, but it will start to melt our hearts, and that warmth will spread until we are supple enough to find a way forward.

Available at http://www.forwardmovement.org/archive.cfm by selecting date “11/22/08″

Prayer with the Boy

Got an opportunity – and some work to do.

Okay, so when kids graduate from the intermediate elementary Christian Formation program at my parish, our parish presents them with a personalized Book of Common Prayer.  (“BCP”; the corporate prayer book of the Episcopal church.)  We have the books engraved with their name in gold print on the cover of a red hard-cover edition.  And inside, as the Christian Formation Coordinator, I and our priest write a few words for each child.  I’ve been doing this for a number of years now, and I’ve taken great delight in finding a special encouragement, word, or Bible verse or BCP page that’s especially suited to each child.

This past May I had a new experience: writing in one of these books that would actually be returning to my own home!  I’d often wondered how much lap time these books get – now my own son would be the proud owner of one.

Writing in your own son’s book ought to be the easiest of all, right?  Wrong!  All that time spent lovingly on words for other people’s children – this one that would be signed “love, Mom” not merely, God bless you, put a little extra pressure on me.  So, interestingly enough, I didn’t have his book signed in time for the public presentation.  I told him I needed it back so I could write in it.

He didn’t especially care.  That has been his modus operandi all his life.  Neutral to antagonistic to church life.  Mostly neutral, though the folks who are kind enough to supply salami or cheddar cheese when their name comes up for coffee hour….well, let’s just say those folks have been Christ for my son, and are largely, along with his friends, what keep him coming back without too much complaint.

Eventually I signed the book, gave it to him while saying good night, and invited him to join me in praying from it.  (always looking for the teachable moment, and the tender mom-son moment of any kind!)  He accepted, and we agreed to do it every night.

Well, I’m sure there’s no great gasp of surprise that that didn’t last forever.  No matter.  I’ve always tried to handle evangelism in general with a light touch – taking to heart the words attributed to St. Francis – preach the gospel always, use words if necessary.  Meaning, however imperfect, a life lived is more important than the right words spoken.

Imagine my surprise tonight, months later, when he opens the BCP up to my signed bit, and is unclear on my cursive letters, taking an interesting twist on the meaning I’d intended!  He asked me before doing so though, when are we ever going to read the bible together, mom?

Frank Guilt Admission time:  I rarely read the bible in front of my children and rarer still with my children outside Sunday school.  I was puzzled.  I soon realized he was referring to his BCP, and his memories of the family prayer service we had used together as a bedtime prayer routine for a time.

Explaining things to children is a wonderful exercise in achieving clarity.  I his usual pre-teen bravado, he blew off any distinction between a BCP and a Bible. “Same difference.”  <heavy sigh>  Well, no, they’re not the same thing.  The BCP borrows from the Bible, but whole stories and books of the Bible are not in the BCP.  It’s a wonderful book of prayers that Episcopalians have put together to pray together, but it’s not in the same importance category as the Bible, that all Christians treasure.

A door cracked open to pray and read the bible with my 10-year-old son?  God grant me the discipline, patience and the undoubted to follow joy to do so faithfully!

Heavenly Father.  Thank you for entrusting my children to my care and love.  Help me to guide them to know you and love you more and more each day.  Draw out their special gifts and show them the ways and places to share them with others.  In Jesus name. Amen.

oh. my. god.

(referencing p.59-60 of The Road of Lost Innocence by Somaly Mam, which I mentioned recently that I’ve begun reading in this post )

Last night is usually my “favorite night of the year.”  That night in the world of daylight savings time that gives us an “extra” hour of sleep.  Of course I never use it to catch up on sleep.  No, I usually twitter it away in useless busy-ness or catching up on work.

Last night I had intended to actually use it for sleep, but then the temptation of books gave in after the glow of my computer screen had been dimmed.  So I read.

I got to p. 59-60 of my book.  I literally sobbed.  I put the book down, and tried to pray.

This morning I tried to think what is within my teensy tiny circle of power and influence to do something about it?  I’ll steel myself and keep reading the book some other night.  I suspect that at a minimum my power to act includes donating money to the cause and prayer of course.  Perhaps the author will include more specific concrete suggestions as I read on.  Here’s her website once more, which I admit I haven’t explored in any great detail yet:

www.somaly.org

Heavenly Father.  I don’t know what to ask for.  I suppose it’s a little like a parent trying to bargain with you for the health of their seriously ill child.  Well, not quite that emotionally raw either, and I suppose I’m presuming insultingly to know what that heartbreaking situation must be like for a struggling parent, too, but still, Lord?!?   Are you up there?  Can you hear us? Could we maybe forfeit a little free will and you come on down, intervene, and fix things up a little down here?  Throw in a whole lot of that wrath of God stuff, bigtime?!?

Okay, outside my paygrade, as they say.  I still don’t know what to ask for, but Lord, just look on this world and drop as much grace and healing as is possible in a world that’s f-ing messed up.

Amen.

(I literally can’t bring myself to repeat the passages I read in the book, but it had to do with the author detailing some of the horrific child rape that takes place in the brothels.  Lord have mercy and compassion.)

Be near, O God

I once wrote a version of what’s below as a journal entry, oh back in August of 2004 believe it or not, in response to the most pitiful, pathetic overreaction to something in my life, that I pondered and reflected on my reactions to it, and what it meant about my relationship with God and things I liked to believe about myself.  I was annoyed as hell that I just couldn’t let it go, and “move on.”  Be the “bigger person.”  My spirituality has developed some in the meantime that suggested some changes in the original.  And the overreaction of today is a little similar, a little different.  It would seem I’m not “cured” yet (oooh!  big surprise there, eh?), but maybe not as “unhealthy” as I once was.  Progress!  Yay!

All the same, the main theme of this prayer rings a certain truth for me right now and bears repeating.  Indeed, let the healing continue, good and gracious God.

Here it is with my 2008 mod’s! :)  Be blessed! – Karla

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There’s a place where I go, deep inside my heart.
This is the place where I meet my Lord.

It was in this place that I once pledged a lover’s sincere,
but hopelessly naive promise:
I’ll go wherever you lead me, Jesus.
I love you. Show me the way.
I meant it, too. I really did. I begged for cleansing of my
pettiness. Right then, and time and time again since.
I cried out for healing from my sin.
I’ve wondered so often, why do I do the things I hate?
Why can’t I do the things I long to do for you?
But God I need you to help me. I can’t do it without you.

How could you give me a heart that longs to serve you, Jesus,
and not equip me with the strength of character to do it?
Why can’t you see it? All I want is to make you smile.

I realized later that God had already begun answering me.
He’d been there with me, as he always is.
I’ll never be perfect, and I probably won’t ever be great…
…or even particularly successful.
But I’m loved anyway with an eternal and everlasting love. “Why can’t that be enough,” I seem to hear God pleading???  “Relax, my dear child.”

They say the sacrifice God loves is that of a broken and contrite heart.
Well, Jesus, here it is. Take my heart and its broken pieces.
Clean them up; stitch them back together and reclaim them for yourself.

(Yes, again, God. And as many more times as it takes??…)
Hold me close and never let me go.
But most of all, help me to remember that you’ve already promised you will.
Cuz, really, I do already know this.
I still forget sometimes, but the knowing grows stronger every time I remember again.
Thank you Holy Spirit for breathing life, and love, and yes, even strength, into my soul.
Let the healing continue. Make me stronger for tomorrow. May I always be yours.