This week has seen me enjoying a bit of
space to simply be, in between the usual commitments.
What a treat.
It has enabled me to do a little processing
of recent events such as the sudden death of a young woman. This has also tapped in to the death of my spiritual
mother.
I was aided in my ability to engage on
a heart level with these deaths via a book a friend lent me. It is called Love, Interrupted, by Simon Thomas.
It is an incredibly honest account of Simon’s
experience of losing his wife, the mother of his child, within the space of three
days. It is quite simply, heart rending.
It serves as a painful reminder of how
utterly cruel life sometimes is as well as illustrating the subsequent suffering
that such heartache inflicts upon those experiencing it. Not just the death but
all the losses that ripple out afterwards; the loss of how it was, the loss of no
longer being like others or having what others have. It is almost a series of mini
deaths of life as it was known, that follow the initial death.
And, due to the lack of honest conversation around the reality of death or loss, those losses that follow often go unnoticed. At least they do by those not experiencing them. This can really add pain to a process that can already feel unbearable.
I haven’t quite finished reading this
book yet and part of me doesn’t want to. Ironically I’m avoiding it ending! I just
find it so refreshing and reassuring to read of someone being so honest about the
harsh reality of death, the losses that follow and the messy impact it has upon
the human heart.
It is rare for someone to resist the urge
to down play such a process for fear of whether others can handle it. But I have only the utmost respect for the writer’s
courage in sharing this deeply painful, isolating, lonely, angry, messy experience
whilst also managing to find moments of utter beauty and joy as him and his son
continue to create new ways of living alongside the ongoing loss.
For anyone wanting a better understanding
of how grief can be, I would totally recommend this book.
Death and loss are of course an unavoidable
part of life.
As much as we don’t like to talk about
it, death will come to us all and none amongst us know when.
And whilst death is the most obvious form of loss, it is most certainly not the only form. Loss comes in many guises, lots of which are not visible or acknowledged. Loss may come via the ending or death of a certain situation being what it once was whether a career, health, relationship or anything else. It may also be present via the loss of something that has not happened or been the way we have wanted or anticipated.
Loss infiltrates our lives subtly by continuously.
Things change, situations change, we change.
Death happens.
Life happens.
Change is unavoidable.
And loss runs throughout these realities.
I was reflecting upon these themes during
my precious free moments this week. Loss
and death are such inevitable and yet painful aspects of our experience of being
human.
And yet, all around us, new beginnings
and life are equally at work. They don’t cancel one another out or render each other
any less meaningful or painful, they simply co-exist.
It has given me great pleasure this week to see the new buds of life that continue to appear in my garden at the moment, from roses to sweetpea’s to clematis. They symbolise such hope. For whilst parts of life are constantly ending and changing, my garden reminds me that new parts continue to emerge and develop.
I love this.
Well, I love the new growth more than
I love the old endings and loss! But I do love the way both make up the whole picture.
It is not always easy when there is a
loss of the way things were but the more we allow ourselves to engage with the emotional
reality of this, the more we become able to notice and embrace the new life that
begins to peak through.
I’ve experienced clear moments of the
spark of life and joy erupting back through me this week following the stunned haze
left by the recent death.
Following my fun fuelled holiday
extravaganza, I crash landed back to reality.
I eased myself back in to my
responsibilities over a luscious lunch in a coffee shop where I caught up with
my email and voicemails.
What I could not have anticipated was
a message informing me that an individual I had worked with for six years, had
died three days after their ending session. They were 30.
I could not comprehend it.
I listened to the message three times
before promptly bursting in to stunned tears.
How could it be?
I was utterly shocked and saddened.
Initially I thought I would hold my
practice as planned for two hours that afternoon and then allow myself to
absorb this news. But I quickly realised that was ridiculous and most certainly
not practising what I preach.
I cancelled my practice.
And I called the one who had left me
the message. The person in question had awoken one morning in pain and died
within the hour. The funeral service was being held the next day.
I couldn’t contain my sadness and my
stomach immediately began having pains, partially from the big lunch I’d just
had and partially from the shock and emotion of this news. My body was struggling to digest everything on
every level.
I cried out to God, ‘How could you
allow it?’.
I just felt overwhelmingly saddened
by the unlived life I had imagined they were being launched in to living as
they left my practice that last time.
Some people really commit to doing
the work and this was one of them.
Subsequently they experienced the benefits and left the process in a very
different place to where they started it.
And they had their whole life ahead of them.
Or so I had assumed.
My strongest defences; reason and
rationale immediately did what they do.
They reminded me that I know that life can be cruel and unfair and that
it is all too often the real givers of this life that get taken early or unexpectedly. They added that none of us are entitled to a
certain amount of life as much as we like to imagine we are. Every minute of every day is a gift we cannot
take for granted.
In short my defences attempted to
divert me from the emotion.
The shock.
The pain.
The disbelief.
The sorrow.
The whole, but how can it be? I only
saw them a few short weeks ago; smiling and being who they were.
How could they no longer be here?
How could their life with so much ahead be wiped out in an instant?
Whilst my head knew there was no
explanation, no reason, no sense to be made of the situation, my heart still
sought it.
As I spoke to my best friend who I
trained with, she asked me, ‘Jo, are you angry with God?’. I said quite possibly, but I couldn’t access
it if so.
Later that evening as I drove to meet
another friend, I discovered that yes, I was actually very angry indeed. I was angry at the injustice, the cruelty,
the loss, the senselessness.
I realise God doesn’t have to justify
Himself to any of us but at that moment, I felt angry about that. I wanted to understand something that quite
simply cannot be understood. It can only be grieved. And I wasn’t about to deny or suppress the
anger aspect of my grief.
The service was the next day less
than twenty four hours after I heard.
The tears came as soon as I saw the
hearse and they didn’t stop coming throughout the service. I hid away at the back.
It was beautiful and full of
humour. It reflected the character of
the one whose life it celebrated. But it was of course desperately sad too.
Such an enormous gap would be left for so many people. I couldn’t begin to imagine their loss.
There was a wonderful line read out
at one point which jumped out at me. It was a reminder that when grief comes,
not to ever push the feelings down or away but allow them to come and to go as
they need to. I loved the simple truth and
wisdom of these words. For we must indeed
learn to welcome our sadness as we welcome our happiness, for each are fleeting
emotions worthy of our acknowledgement and compassion.
Anyway, nearly two weeks later I am
still struggling to get my head let alone my heart around this.
My stomach continues to play up,
reminding me that I am not leaving enough space to digest or process anything. After this weekend, I’ll be in a position to
have more space and I’m looking forward to that.
Death is such a painful reminder of
the fragility of life. None of us know how long we have. Any of us can be taken
in an instant.
The challenge to balance living life
to the full, with a refusal to ignore the painful aspects of grief, remains
sharper than ever.
I’ve stopped asking God why and
started asking Him where He is in this. I still don’t understand and I never
will. But I see His hand right from the
moment I heard the message. I could see two friends in the coffee shop who I
had intended to speak to after finishing my messages. I could speak, cry and have
a hug with them before leaving. I saw Him in the subsequent phone calls and
meetings with friends.
He was there when the person unhesitatingly
responded, ‘I’ll be there’, when I asked them to accompany me to the service. He
was there in so many other ways too. Whilst I will never understand why these
things happen, I know that when I’m willing to really look, I will find God
right there in the midst of whatever with me. And that knowledge and experience
humbles and breaks me every time.
Death has a way of forcing a re-evaluation of
that which is important in life and that which is not.
All it really seems to come down to
is trying to be as loving and kind as possible to the people around us,
including ourselves, especially when they or we are hurting. To attempt to spread something life enhancing
that recognises the value of each human being and the fragility with which our
lives hang. And to give of the gifts of our truest selves, without holding back.
We may fight, resist, deny, ignore, suppress or belittle this reality.
We may cling to all things known and assumed to be certain.
And yet the fact remains that uncertainty is part of life.
Nothing is really certain in this great gift of life.
Except the fact that we will all die.
And on a somewhat more hope inspiring level, that God offers to help and accompany us in all. Irrespective of whether we acknowledge, know, deny, love or hate Him. Or indeed have any other response to Him.
Everything else is uncertain. From what will happen today, let alone tomorrow, to us, to others or to the world.
Uncertainty is a fact of reality which us humans tend to dislike. Me included.
And yet, uncertainty is also an unavoidable part of the pathway to change, growth and new vision. We don’t move from one certainty to another in life. We typically move from something, someone or some situation that is felt to be certain in to something, someone or some situation that is not.
This is how change happens.
This is how we evolve.
This is how we grow.
This is how we shed that which we have outgrown in order to enter that which can facilitate further growth.
Ultimately, this is how we continue living.
And yet to allow this progress to continue occurring is to keep letting go of the knowns or perceived certainties of life. As fragile as they actually are. For we cannot embark upon new pathways if we refuse to leave the old ones.
And this can evoke FEAR – that great stealer of progress.
For it is FEAR that torments us with its cruel whisperings of ‘what if’s’.
It seeks to drive us back in to all that we have felt to be certain. It tempts us to return to the pathways that we have already walked.
Yet in order to make new discoveries, we must try new pathways, with no guarantee of where these will take us or what we will encounter.
This involves RISK.
As I reflect upon this, I realise that part of my own difficulty in writing of late is because I am in the fog of uncertainty. That uncomfortable state that I want to resist. Yet in wanting to grow, I have stepped on to a new pathway which has led me in to this fog of uncertainty. As I am unsure what to do with what I am encountering, I am tempted to turn back to the old known pathways. Yet I know in my hearts that I have done that many times before and to do so again would be cowardly and defeatist.
Knowing that I could not turn back but hesitating to move forward, I became paralysed. Caught in the web of analysis paralysis. Trying to force certain answers ahead of the journey, to avoid the discomfort of uncertainty. I was attempting to gain clarity as to where the next step would take me prior to taking it.
But life doesn’t work like that. We don’t get the guarantee before we take the step. We have to choose to let go of the known and enter the unknown. To tolerate the uncertainty and to accept the risk. To trust that we will learn what we need to only as we enter and embrace the challenges that arise. Rather than giving in to the temptation to run back to the old at the first sign of difficulty or the first time we stumble.
New pathways do present new challenges. And we will not necessarily handle them well at first attempt. We may make mistakes, make a mess, get stuff wrong. This is called learning and this is how we grow.
Uncertainty arises whenever we consider attempting something or some pathway that we have not tried before. It could be in relation to something in life that we have previously refused to face or to engage with. It could be something within us; feelings or experience that we do not know what to do with. Or a certain situation that we are refusing to address, or an area of life that we feel called to enter but have no prior knowledge or experience of.
It is anything within us or our life about which we simply do not know what to do with or what will happen as a result of us addressing and entering in to it.
Whatever the thing is that is full of uncertainty, it sits in front of us screaming for our attention. Yet we may blatantly ignore it or cover with the noise of distraction or start taking ridiculously long routes elsewhere in an attempt to bypass it.
UNCERTAINTY.
It scares us yet it also holds the key to the new season.
Because the only way to progress in life is by continuing to explore unknown territory. To go back is to revisit the same scenery. To go forward is to discover new horizons. But this cannot be done without the presence of uncertainty. It accompanies us on the journey through to new discoveries and landscapes. It can be uncomfortable and daunting to travel with uncertainty but if we can learn to tolerate it, we may just discover our new life.
Whilst contemplating the uncertainty that has accompanied me upon my own new paths of late, a very dear and wise friend of mine has reminded me that the only way to find the clarity we yearn for is by entering this fog of uncertainty. For it is only as we enter it, that it begins to lift.
So, whilst I’m in this fog of uncertainty that accompanies the pathway to growth and change, I will continue to remind myself that I do not need to overthink myself in to inaction. I need to trust and simply put one foot in front of the other, trusting in that which is bigger than me, to guide me to where I need to be and to teach me that which I need to learn en route. No matter how uncomfortable or disorientating the experience may be.
I am choosing to push on, rather than retreat.
I do not know what I will face or how I will respond. But I do know the one who does. Who see’s the big picture, holds the map and knows exactly where He wants to lead me and what He wants to work out within me along the way.
Growth and change are not easy. But they beat the living death that accompanies the alternative.
What are you spending ridiculous amounts of energy avoiding in your life?
Perhaps now is the time to embrace the uncertainty and bite the bullet …
Is it the man biologically responsible for providing the necessary ingredient?
Or the man/men who actually do life with you?
On the understanding that they are not always one and the same.
Perhaps they are both.
Over the years I’ve redefined my understanding of the term ‘father’ numerous times. Yet it does not remain static. It continues to change, evolve and grow.
Especially since encountering the Father of all Father’s; God Almighty Himself.
As I look back to my pre-knowing-God days I remember one of my early experiences of what felt like a gift from God the Father.
It was many, many, many years ago back in the days when I was still caught in the life destroying grip of alcoholism. It was a Saturday morning in the summer back when I lived next door to my sister. We shared a lawn mower and on this particular morning, accompanied by a monster sized hangover and aided by a large pig butty, I still found myself unable to face the task of tackling my lawn. My sister did hers and I sat and watched wondering how I was going to muster the motivation to do mine.
Anyway, as I sat wishing that my lawn would cut itself, there was a knock at my sister’s door. When she failed to return promptly from answering it my curiosity got the better of me and I dragged myself up and round to her front door to have a nose.
I was met by the sight of two young Mormon men dressed in suits enquiring as to whether there was anything they could do for my sister. Ding. Having recognised what looked to be an amazing opportunity, the words, ‘oh yes, you can mow my lawn for me’ were out of my mouth before I could gather any sense of decorum or English reserve. (Thank God).
These guys smiled enthusiastically, whipped off their jackets and asked to get stuck in. I was of course only too delighted to get them started!
Once they’d mowed my back lawn they asked if there was anything else they could do, to which I kindly replied, ‘well, if you’re going to do a job, you may as well do it properly and do the front as well’, thinking they would tell me where to go. But no, they were genuinely keen to oblige.
By this point I was totally amazed and humbled by their attitude. So much so that I made us all some lunch and then these young guys talked about their family back home in the USA and showed us pictures of them. It was a thoroughly enjoyable affair!
Now, to clarify, I don’t really know what a Mormon is or what any of the various denominations are. Neither do I really care. Maybe I should but all that is important to me is that there is one God and He loves and wants to be in relationship with us all.
Anyway, after this experience, I remarked to my sister, ‘you see, there really must be a God’, to which she replied, ‘typical that would happen to you and you’d get out of moving your lawn’!!! (I have a concrete lawn these days!)
But for me, this was an experience I would look back upon after officially meeting God personally a few years later whilst living in NZ. I could see that God is indeed a Father of such love and such grace. I had a totally self-inflicted hangover that Saturday morning and I certainly did not deserve for anyone to come along and do my chores for me and yet these young men did so with such genuine joy that it caused me to stop and think about what kind of a God could cause a person to do something so selfless and to seemingly get such pleasure from doing so.
I realise now that this experience that was so undeserved had God written all over it. And for that I was grateful then and I’m grateful now, for the numerous ways that God reveals Himself. Usually I suspect without us even noticing much less thanking Him. (Often cos we’re too busy blaming him for something or other).
This was just a great example of the Father’s love. We don’t deserve Him yet He pursues, loves and helps us regardless.
Which is not to say that He doesn’t also allow us to feel the consequences of our actions. Or even to allow terrible things to happen to us. But His grace, love and help remain on offer to help us through no matter what.
As I reflect upon this Father’s Day, I realise that since meeting God the Father, I’ve been fortunate enough to experience other men who have shown me a similar Fatherly love and grace. And whilst each of these key men have been vastly different, they have each shown me that grace and love cannot be separated. (A bit like tea and cake).
These men have helped me with practical stuff, prayed for me when I’ve needed it (read always!), hugged me when I’ve cried and celebrated with me when things have gone well. They are the father’s that are there for me and do life with me. They each show me something of the Father’s heart. And I am eternally grateful to them all. (Special thanks to the long suffering Johnboy!).
But anyway, back to this Father’s day.
It’s not an easy day for many people for all manner of reasons. And if it is a day that brings pain, it’s important to acknowledge that. Not sweep it under the carpet, deny or dismiss it, belittle or stiff upper lip it back in to the body to come out later as illness. It just needs to be recognised, respected and responded to with love and compassion. Because that is the only way that we can continue to live with our hearts open. And if they’re not open, are we really living?
At the same time, it is important to acknowledge that whatever experiences each of us have had or failed to have from our own father’s, there is a Father who is available to us all. One that is worthy to be celebrated and praised this Father’s Day.
He probably will have bought men to show you about a father’s love even if those men or that man is not biologically connected to you. But whether He has or whether you have noticed or recognised this or not, God Himself will be reaching out to you this Father’s day.
Whether you know or believe in Him, he knows and believes in each and every one of us. He longs to father us all. To be in relationship with us. To have us spend time with Him, to recognise His hand and the many ways and people through whom He reaches out to us. To know His voice and to hear what He wants to speak in to our lives to encourage and help us to navigate our way through all the twists and turns. To know that no matter how things feel, we are never alone for He is always with and for us, patiently waiting for us to acknowledge and call upon Him. To love us with such grace and compassion in spite of ourselves. To be available and interested 24/7. To know us so intimately as to always know what and who we need. To strengthen and comfort us along the way that we can keep going even when things are super tough and we feel like giving up. To welcome and comfort us when we’ve gone off the rails but then realise that He still awaits our return with open embrace.
Ultimately this Father loves us with a love like no other. One that never gives up, abandons, abuses, neglects, forgets, ignores or rejects. Even when we do that to Him.
There are truly none like Him.
And … He doesn’t get ill or die on us.
Do you know this ultimate Father?
Maybe this Father’s Day it is time to recognise the Father’s call in to relationship with Him.
For me, this Father’s Day I will be praising and thanking my God and Father for never giving up on me, for pursuing me relentlessly even though I wouldn’t acknowledge Him until I was on the other side of the world, and for loving me through the most painful times and my most horrible behaviours. Ultimately, for loving all of me; the good, the bad and the really ugly. And I’ll be thanking Him for the men in my life who represent Him to me. As well as praying for those who don’t!
And throughout the year in between this Father’s Day and the next, whenever I’m having a right old crappy time, I’ll try to remind myself ‘Jo, do you remember who your Father is?!’.
Should I forget, I’m fortunate enough to have friend’s that remind me.
I don’t know what your experience of or as a father is.
But I know that there is a Father who longs to be in relationship with EVERY SINGLE one of his children.
During a meeting with a group of women this week, the subject of guilt arose.
That potentially pervasive stealer of life.
There was a subsequent discussion around how attempts to just hang out with Jesus often get sabotaged or diverted by the voice of guilt.
We realised that the voice of guilt often arises from our inner Martha.
And it goes something like this, ‘you can’t just sit around being with Jesus when there is work to be done. You should be doing… the washing up/housework/shopping/enter whatever you think you should be doing’.
Basically, you should be doing something.
Doing rather than being.
The mantra of our quality of life stealing culture.
As we discussed this, it became clear that we can all struggle at times to master our inner Martha sufficiently to allow our inner Mary to find expression through time with Jesus.
According to the gospel of Luke, Mary favoured simply being in the presence of Jesus, unlike Martha who was fretting over preparing the meal and resentful that Mary wasn’t helping.
Personally, I feel for Martha in this scenario because let’s face it, if no one prepared the meal because both Martha and Mary chose to hang out with Jesus, I feel certain there would have been some disgruntlement from someone at the point at which the hunger arose.
Or perhaps it’s just me that becomes grumpy when hungry as I am someone who absolutely loves good food.
But maybe the point is more that the spiritual food that only Jesus can provide, feeds our heart, soul and spirit with a sense of life and energy that inspires and enables us to find our place and purpose within the world.
In comparison, as marvellously satisfying as the act of devouring a good meal can be, it doesn’t typically leave me feeling passionately fired up to seek the life that is only found within the purposes of God.
In fact, sometimes a good feeding session leaves me feeling incapable of anything other than an afternoon appointment with the duvet.
Whilst there is nothing wrong with this and we certainly do need physical food to maintain our physical body’s, this food is unable to nourish those other parts of our humanity which are ultimately responsible for our beliefs and values and thus our motivation and desire for actively participating in daily life.
A cake with a view
I guess what I am saying is that Jesus reaches the parts of us that not even a gloriously good feast, can reach. (Doesn’t that sound like the words of an old beer advert?)
Anyway, we do not need to get shot of Martha but we do need to appreciate that the role of Mary in hanging out with Jesus, really is the more important one. (Even for a foodie like me).
But, we do need Martha.
Let’s face it, she comes in to her own when we need to get all those hated jobs around the house done. Personally, I’m always a little suspicious of a woman who says she enjoys housework. The results are satisfying for sure but to enjoy this as a way of spending time when there are so many other inspiring options available?
Jesus and still waters
Before you judge me, I say this as someone who spent years cleaning other people’s houses to help put myself through uni. Admittedly I had some incredible conversations with Jesus whilst cleaning but as I know I can converse with Him in so many other ways, cleaning is not my top choice!
But anyway, we all need our Martha’s.
Because in reality, can we really spend all day every day hanging out with Jesus?
I think not.
Which is not to say that we cannot converse with Jesus throughout the day. I think the trick is to be in such a close relationship with Jesus that He literally jumps off the page of His word to really walk and work and talk with us throughout the day.
I think we know and accept that we cannot spend all day every day simply being in the presence of Jesus.
But do we equally know and accept that we should no more be spending all of our time addressing Martha’s incessant demands that we be doing?
We need balance.
We need both.
We need integration.
If more in the favour of Mary.
Without which, when Martha stifles Mary in to submission with her guilt inducing narrative, both lose out. Martha resents the martyrdom of her actions and Mary feels judged and suppressed. No one wins.
Unfortunately, our culture subtly and not so subtly backs and reinforces the Martha approach to life. It values doing, producing and creating, tangible, measurable things.
Our culture is not pro being still, stopping or even slowing down.
Although in fairness, the need to ‘be’ is beginning to fight back via meditation, mindfulness and various other similar practices.
Culture has influenced us to become so ingrained with the need to constantly do that sometimes our attempts to spend time being, especially being with Jesus, can be intercepted without us even realising.
It is time for our inner Mary to fight back!
Martha wants the external physical stuff to be dealt with.
Mary wants the internal soul and spirit stuff to be dealt with.
Both matter.
But time invested on the internal leads to a natural outworking within the external.
In other words, the Mary who has been nourished through quality time with Jesus can tackle her ‘Martha to do list’ with way more enthusiasm and grace than the Mary who has been denied time with her Master.
Because, there really is nothing like the joy of simply lingering in the presence of the Lord Almighty. And as someone who has tried a lot of what this world has to offer, I do mean, nothing.
After all, He is the creator of the universe, the ultimate artist especially evident at this time of year and the highest form of wisdom and wit.
He offers a one to one mentoring service like no other. He teaches us in the ways He has made us to naturally and most effectively learn. He knows us intimately in a way that no other human really can. And even more miraculously, He loves us regardless!
He is the counsellor above all counsellor’s and knows exactly what and who we need when we’re struggling. He’s totally trustworthy. Not to spare us from all trouble but to help us to overcome. He’s the ultimate friend and confidante who genuinely wants us to do well and to fulfil His plans. He’s the best source of help available and the only one on call 24/7.
I could go on and on and on…. I wont.
But the bottom line is that spending time with the Almighty and I’m talking here, leisurely, unrushed, unhurried time, is the most inspiring, enlivening, exciting way that any of us can ever invest any of our time.
And like so many of the very best experiences that life has to offer, there are nearly always a series of repeated reasons/excuses/distractions to stop us from doing so. (See the Fun Thief)
Our inner Martha comes in to this category for all too often she ambushes us with the dialogue of Captain Sensible in that she constantly attempts to guilt trip us in to focusing and expending our energy upon all those endless grown up jobs awaiting our attention.
As if hanging out with Jesus is a waste of our time.
But seriously, what price can we put on an encounter with the Almighty?
We may not see what we gain or be able to show it to others in concrete ways but the experience of a God encounter cannot be underestimated.
A connection with the source of life itself can energise and uplift us in ways that are hard to articulate.
It needs to be felt to be known.
And is of course, available and on offer to all.
Martha can be a total kill joy and stealer of pleasure, quick to remind us of what we haven’t done or what we should be doing.
Yet when Mary is allowed to do what she is made to do she becomes better equipped to fulfil her Martha duties with more ease and less resentment.
So go ahead, tell your Martha to stand down and let your Mary arise.
It is time for a shift.
For when the two work in unity, both and thus all, really do benefit!
Grief isn’t a nice, tidy, or by any means short process that comes with any kind of manual or end date.
Nor is it something we can control.
It is unique and unpredictable.
But, over time we can learn to recognise and surrender to it rather than resist and prolong it. Not that it ever ends but more that the loss becomes integrated and the absence adjusted to, even when it still hurts.
Ultimately we have to learn to trust the grieving process.
Because when that fresh wave of grief hits, it hits.
You know about it.
There can be no denial of its arrival.
At least not for long.
In fact, we’d do well to notice it coming.
I saw mine on the horizon. Or rather I felt it. The tears that came at inappropriate moments. The stuffing them back down with sugar or salt laden rubbish, the extended and more frequent need for an afternoon nap, the struggle to smile in the presence of so much stifled sadness.
The signs were all there.
I simply refused to read them.
It took a meeting with my best friend and fellow psychotherapist to point out the unwanted obvious.
This was another wave of grief.
I’d come out of the fog of the first few months and people had commented on how much better I looked. I felt better too.
So when the grief began to hit again, I tried to resist it by carrying on as ‘normal’. I liked feeling ‘better’. And I didn’t want to feel sad again. I’ve already had too much sadness for one lifetime.
I resisted, denied, refused and fought this new wave of grief.
I didn’t want it to take me over.
I wasn’t trusting it to do its work of transformation or to deliver me to where I need to be.
All this despite knowing that something as important as the process of grief cannot be ignored. At least not for any real length of time before your body starts protesting via the language of illness. For some, even hospitalisation.
But, like most humans, I also like to buy in to all those palatable ideas about how having the right thoughts, beliefs, or pills, means we don’t have to be ‘so weak’ (read human) as to experience unwanted feelings. I get it. I want this to be true as much as the next person. And if swallowing these ideas came without the consequences it would certainly be a lot easier and less painful.
And so I allowed myself to indulge in a little delusion, despite my training, despite my knowledge, despite the reality that stifled sadness (or any other unwanted emotion) is a great stealer of smiles and obstructer of the internal well of joy.
I know this stuff but like most humans I still sometimes opt for the comfort of denial. No matter how shallow or short lived.
As a friend of mine says, denial is a very long river.
And for a while, I just wanted to swim in it. I didn’t want to get out to face much less engage with the reality that ‘the only cure for grief, is grieving’. (I nicked that expression off some one else but can’t remember who – possibly Kubler Ross).
But anyway …
Grief cannot be fast tracked, thought or prayed away.
Grief has to be grieved.
No quick fix.
No short cut.
No way out, over or above.
Just the long and at times lonely, walk through.
Sometimes it hits so hard, we come to a standstill. One which reminds us afresh of the lost one. Of the pain of having loved that person and no longer having them here in our midst in the way that we used to.
It hurts.
All I can do is ride it out.
And cut myself some slack. Re-check my schedule, re-assess what is really necessary right now and what can wait. Reduce my expectations. Listen to my body and respect its messages.
Ultimately, I can practice a little extra self-care. Experiment with when to push and when to let up. Trial and error. Learning along the way. Making adjustments where necessary.
After all, what really is the rush for anything? Do I have anything if I don’t have my health, if I refuse to stop and allow myself to heal?
Nothing is more important than health.
So I’m prioritising mine right now.
Not ministry, not the housework and not my finances. Because actually, without my health, what use are any of these?
I’m also letting my people know that I’m struggling. That I need a little extra encouragement right now. Because when my world becomes dark with grief, it’s the light of my people that breaks through and reminds me to keep trusting until my own light can shine again.
The finger of God
As I reflect upon my grieving process, I am reminded of how grieving has worked in my life previously, having experienced rather a lot of it. Not always related to death but always to loss.
What I recall is that it goes in cycles. I feel consumed by the grief for a period, then I experience a respite which feels wonderful in comparison, then another round of grief hits, feeling worse than the last because it’s now in contrast to feeling good and so the cycles repeat. Except that each time, the period of grieving becomes less severe and the period of respite becomes longer until the two eventually amalgamate in to a new norm.
It’s a process. One that I’m well versed in. So I know I can trust it to do its work of healing and transformation.
Yet I still need reminding when I’m in its midst for I can lose sight of the purpose of the pain.
This is the pain of healing.
Just like when a physical part of the body is healing and growing in strength again. It too can bring pain as part of the process.
I refuse to bypass this process.
I will not settle for Society’s short sighted offer of a superficial, intellect only healing. Tempting as it may be. I will not force my body to communicate through illness. When it starts warning me through the coldsore, sore throat, headache, nauseau or the really big warning sign, lack of appetite, I stop. I acknowledge my body’s message and respond accordingly.
Which means giving myself permission to do nothing. To simply be. To listen to the birds, to walk amongst God’s beautiful creation, to admire the buds of new life, to watch the sun’s rays bounce off the stillness of the river. I take these moments to just be still and allow myself to reconnect to the joy and privilege of simply being alive. Even when it hurts.
Because at the end of the day, I want a heart level healing. Or more realistically, a healthy heart level adjustment to the absence of the one who made such a difference to my world and my life.
Gosh I miss her.
Her smile, her expressions, her sense of fun and mischief, her laughter, her seeing, getting and reaching me with her love.
A mother’s love.
I want her back.
Now.
I don’t want to accept that she’s not coming back.
And I don’t want to wait until I get to Heaven to see her again.
Yet that’s the price I signed up to pay when I allowed her in to my heart; to mother me, to be a friend, a confidante, an encourager, a supporter, a stabiliser, a security provider, a champion of my dreams, a trusted one to share the day to day with, one to laugh with, cry with, share meals and pray with.
I signed up for this whether I consciously chose to or not. I signed up for the reality that when I allow myself to love someone, I must also accept that I may lose them.
It’s a non-negotiable part of the deal.
The possibility of losing love is part of the package of enjoying the love in the first place.
It’s just how it is. Sometimes we lose the people we love.
And the subsequent loss brings a painful grieving process with it.
It’s the price we pay for loving.
And I wouldn’t change it.
So instead of forcing my sadness deep within assisted by an onslaught of crisps and cake, I’m making a renewed commitment to myself to make time to grieve. Time to allow my tears to come forth, my sadness to be released. Secure in the knowledge that I will come through this with my heart still intact. I refuse to separate or cut off from my sadness or reduce myself to being half hearted. I will not settle for that.
I am choosing to remain full hearted. Even when it hurts to do so. Because this is the only way that I can remain fully connected and fully alive. And for however long I am gifted with the opportunity to live, I want to remain fully connected, fully feeling and fully living. Even now. Because I know that I will come through. I’ll be different as a result but I’ll still be fully alive.
And this business of staying fully alive is absolutely vital to me. Because I don’t believe for a nano second that my Jesus endured what he did on that cross for me to lamely settle for some little half hearted life where I’m shut off from everything that I don’t want to feel. Where in effect, I shut down the centre of who I am, the very lifeblood of my existence; my heart and soul. I just won’t do that.
And subsequently, I am trusting my Jesus to walk me through this. Every step of it. However long it takes. Whether I’m skipping, dancing or dragging myself. Because I believe that Jesus will help me to walk through my grief without relinquishing my ability to remain connected or whole. Or rather as whole as it is possible to be whilst this side of heaven.
It’s been a big wave. And it’s not done yet. But as I allow myself to engage more fully with my pain, I notice my joy for life, begin to filter back through. And somehow it’s sharper, clearer, more 3D, richer and fuller.
Grief hurts … but grief also heals.
It’s a paradox.
But one that it’s worthwhile engaging with.
At least if one wishes to continue living whilst living…
Last week I went to a meeting where the subject of healing arose.
As a woman of God, I believe that God Almighty is the ultimate healer. That He is able to heal any of us from anything. I’ve heard about those who have witnessed limbs grow, sight be restored and even epilepsy be healed leaving no medical trace of ever having been present. I’ve heard many such miraculous accounts of healings evidenced and confirmed by the medical profession.
Wow, wow, wow.
We all love to hear about the miraculous.
Who doesn’t love a good ending?
By good I mean, when things turn out the way we want and think they should.
But what about when healing doesn’t happen?
Isn’t it just as important to talk about this reality too? About the pain, disappointment, confusion, doubt, disillusionment, resentment and the consequent effect upon faith. I’m talking about how it can really be rather than the super holy gloss we can hide behind.
Refusing to talk about these situations simply leaves us to struggle in silence. And that makes us unnecessarily vulnerable and isolated at the very time when support and understanding are most needed.
The fact is that sometimes God does not heal. (Think Paul and his thorn whatever that was.)
At least not in any way or timing that we can see or understand. And as far as I’m aware, we don’t know why. I imagine we know only the tiniest fraction of what our God is capable of or of what is going on within the spiritual world that remains largely unseen by our human eyes.
I accept this reality because I have learned to trust God and I am continuing to learn to do so as this is an ongoing, lifelong lesson that is learned through experience. Especially the unwanted hard experiences.
Knowing intellectually who God is, is great if you want to know how to talk a good talk. But if you want to actually walk that same talk, you have to know who God is on a heart level. And that means knowing in your heart that He is trustworthy even and especially when we do not see, know, understand or like the situation we find ourselves within, in this instance in the area of healing or rather not healing.
So, what to say about when God doesn’t heal?
Aside from the superficial response of, ‘there must be sin in your life or you don’t have enough faith’, most people are left to suffer in silence because a lot of people don’t like to acknowledge much less discuss the pain of not knowing why healing doesn’t always happen.
Of course there is truth that sometimes there is sin and sometimes there is unbelief, both of which can block healing. It doesn’t matter how able and willing God is to heal if amongst an environment that does not acknowledge any need for healing much less a willingness to ask. Even Jesus was limited in his ability to heal when amongst those with no belief in Him.
But, whilst everyone loves to share and hear about the miraculous examples of healing, when faced with the unhealed individual, there can be an unhelpful silence.
What I see is that people can get very hurt by a refusal to engage in discussion beyond the superficial realm of pat answers. And when the reality that none of us has all the answers, is not acknowledged in a sensitive, wise way, the impact on the individual can be a damaging one. Heart level damage. On top of whatever healing need there was to begin with. And when that is not tended to, it starts to steal the appetite for the spiritual. Because as much as emotions are often treated as the enemy, if left unaddressed these can damage our spiritual health. (And our physical health).
The bottom line is that sometimes God doesn’t heal and we don’t know why.
We can either accept this reality (which doesn’t mean we stop praying or give up) and seek God for a way to live within it or we can continue to make up unhelpful, damaging human reasons as to why this happens.
We all prefer to think that such matters are within our hands hence we like the sin or unbelief approach because these are within our power to rectify.
What we don’t like to admit is that actually we’re all at the mercy of the Almighty and we simply don’t see the whole picture.
As much as it seems rather appealing, how much faith would be required to trust a God that revealed and explained everything to us?
When we really trust God, we make a choice to trust Him no matter what and we focus instead on the business of meeting Him in the midst of the unhealed situation/unanswered prayer or whatever it is.
The healing may be a question of timing or it may never come this side of Heaven.
Hard but true.
Yet there are many examples of inspiring individuals who have gone on to fulfil their purposes for God in spite of vast physical injuries or limitations that they refused to allow to restrict God from working through them regardless.
Check out the website of Nick Vujicic; https://www.lifewithoutlimbs.org/, a man with no limbs but seemingly no limits. An inspirational example of living fully with what you do have.
Or for those who love a film based on a true story, see Soul Surfer which offers an honest illustration of the unavoidable process that takes us from experiencing the unspeakable through a painful process of grieving and adjustment in order to fully re-engage with life afresh with what we do have.
But as was highlighted last week by the excellent speaker Mark DuPont, there are also times when the healing doesn’t happen because for God to do so would be detrimental. In his example, an open leg wound that refused to heal and that wasn’t healed by God, eventually led via various medical professionals to the discovery of a damaged vein. This required dealing with before the external wound could heal.
In other words, the invisible root cause had to be identified and addressed before the visible, surface level symptoms could heal. If God had simply healed on a surface level, the unexposed root cause could have led to other issues, such as DVT as a frequent flyer.
We don’t see or understand all that is happening.
But God is trustworthy no matter how things look or feel to us.
He’s definitely not a half a job bob kind of a God. And way too loving to heal the symptom without the cause. But sometimes we have to go through a process in order to experience the healing. One where lessons are learned about God’s goodness even in the midst of pain that we don’t understand. Lessons that are not learned on the mountain top but the journey to get there.
Hard lessons but lessons that continue to move our faith beyond the intellect and in to the realms of heart level knowing. From which corresponding actions are made possible. Let us acknowledge that the man/woman on the top of the mountain didn’t fall there.
I don’t know why God allowed Mark to go on a long, painful journey to find his healing. We can all come up with our own ideas; meeting God during unanswered prayers and pain, learning that God sometimes heals through people – emphasizing our need for one another, obedience even when things don’t go our way (maturity), the call to persevere in all etc etc but the fact remains that none of us have all the answers and just as in Job’s day, our God does not have to explain or justify Himself to us.
In thinking about all of this, I can’t help but reflect upon my own ministry; healing of the heart and mind, especially as it’s becoming more and more common for individuals to experience physical symptoms as an expression of internal, invisible mental and emotional pain.
If God simply healed these physical manifestations with no thought for the root causes, how loving would such an act of healing really be? Simply reducing the symptom to seek alternative expression via other physical symptoms.
Neurologists are constantly coming face to face with an ever-increasing number of medically unexplainable physical symptoms. An increase that appears to coincide with the decrease in understanding of the importance of emotions and emotional health. Our Society is so fixated on external productivity that we are losing our souls in the process.
Whilst many like to imagine that emotions are some kind of poor relation to intellect, it is often the denied emotions that hold the power to bring us to our knees. Physically and spiritually.
Mental and emotional health matters.
The current resistance to addressing the internal issues of the heart is costing much in terms of health and even in terms of our experience of healing and indeed of the Healer.
We all love to experience God as healing us just like that and without our being required to having any input much less any pain, patience or work. It’s human nature.
But there comes a time when we need to learn to actively participate in our own healing by doing our part.
How else will we learn to grow up?
The time has long been here to take mental and emotional health seriously. A refusal to do so simply saps the appetite for the spiritual and without that, we’re really in trouble.
Overall, it is true that sin and unbelief do block healing.
It is equally true that in the absence of these, sometimes God doesn’t heal the physical symptom because it is indicating a deeper heart level issue that needs identifying and working through. A bit like physio for the soul – painful and costly but with life changing benefits.
According to my last pastors, during their thirty year healing ministry, 70% of people who came for physical healing were actually manifesting heart level distress. A figure that requires our attention for these issues do not disappear because we’ve pretended they don’t exist, that simply gives them permission to grow, fester and cause more damage. These issues actually need addressing along with the ultimate healer’s help to do so.
As I’ve said it is also true that sometimes God does not heal and we don’t know why.
This can be an incredibly painful, vulnerable and isolated experience for anyone. One where what is needed is love (in word and deed), compassion, support, encouragement and prayers. No one needs or benefits from the self-elected spiritual elite Job style friends.
God is our ultimate healer but sometimes we don’t experience the degree or level of healing we may want, whilst this side of Heaven.
The question is, will you allow this to stop you turning to the one who wants to comfort and help you to be all that you can be, during or in spite of any unanswered prayers for healing?
As I consider the call to new life as reflected through nature, I cannot help but be drawn to Jesus and the Cross. I recently watched Mary Magdalene and with Easter all around us, I am reminded that Jesus is the ultimate invitation to new life.
His surrender to death on the cross was an act of total trust in God the Father. Jesus trusted God with His life and God turned around the pain of his death on the cross to bring great hope and healing to all people. Ultimately, as an invitation to a new life with God via Jesus.
So if we strip back all the Christianese surrounding the Cross (not to mention all those chocolate eggs and bunnies), what happened went something like this.
Way back when, Adam and Eve lived in perfect connection with God, in the garden of Eden. They had access to everything they could have wanted. But, like us in the present day, they fell in to the trap of believing that it was not enough and subsequently they bought the serpent’s lie that they should have MORE.
This led them to eat from the one tree that God had asked them not to. By disobeying God, they broke the perfect connection between them. In came the culture of blame. Adam blamed Eve. Eve blamed the serpent.
The innocence, trust, unity and peace they had enjoyed with each other and with God, got broken. In its place, shame, fear, selfishness, strife and division entered humanity. Things got proper messed up.
After this fall out between Adam, Eve and God, the shame they felt about what they had done, caused them to hide from God in fear. But God did not punish them in whatever way they thought they deserved or had expected, for God loved them so much that he wanted to help them find their way back to him. He didn’t want them to be separated by fear of punishment. But, their disobedience was not without consequence for they were banished from the garden of Eden.
Ever since then, our relationships with each other and with God, have been problematic. Without a perfect connection with God, us humans make mistakes, do things we shouldn’t and fail to do what we could, usually out of fear, greed, pride or selfishness. It is now in our nature. There is no such thing as a perfect human. These don’t exist. Not since the fall out. Not now. Aside perhaps from in the minds of the more deluded. But these traits entered during the big fall out in Eden and they don’t fully disappear until we are reunited with God in Heaven.
None of this means that us humans don’t also do some pretty amazing, selfless, pioneering, wonderful things too though. Because we do.
But we all get hurt and we all do wrong and we all have wrong done to us. And all too often we turn away from the very God who wants to help us because we’ve learned to either blame Him for our own actions or those of others, or for the hardships that come our way, or we simply dismiss Him as fantasy.
Anyway, these wrong doings that started with Adam and Eve were rectified by the sacrifice of animal life and in doing so, temporarily reconnected the people to God. But as we’re constantly messing up if only in small ways, this was a continual process of making animal sacrifices, meaning the connection between God and the people was constantly dropping out. A bit like a poor internet service.
This wasn’t good enough.
God wanted a better connection with his people. Although He is often painted as being a God who awaits the chance to punish us, He doesn’t treat us as we may at times deserve. He is too loving a God for that and instead He seeks ways to connect with us by revealing his love for us in spite of ourselves. But as we have seen, our poor choices are not without consequence.
So, because God was unsatisfied with the poor connection between us, He devised a cunning plan. He sent Jesus to show us what God looks like in human form and in action. Jesus was able to showcase the heart of God by demonstrating his love and power through healing humans during his life and ministry. Jesus even raised a few people from the dead. Miraculous.
But God also sent Jesus to re-establish the connection between us and God once and for all by paying the price for our wrongdoings (past, present and future) so that we would no longer be dependent upon an unreliable, unchanging, dropping out regularly type of connection. Instead we could each become and remain connected to God anytime we want. This means that because of Jesus, we can each tap in to God’s love and power to bring healing to our own and others hearts.
Wow!
No more continual sacrificing of animals to pay for our mess ups. Jesus became THE sacrifice, through his death, that gives us ongoing connection to God, His love, His power to heal and the new life that He has for us. Awesome or what?
But how did this come about?
Jesus trusted God.
(NB that Jesus is also God because God is made up of three parts; Jesus is the human part, God is Father, creator and so much more and the third part is the Holy Spirit which was given to us after Jesus left, to speak God’s divine wisdom in to our hearts. See the film The Shack for some creative ideas on this.)
Anyway, God asked Jesus to submit to the authority on earth, despite the fact this authority led Jesus to the cross. Jesus, being God too, could have said ‘no thanks, I’m not really up for that’. Let’s face it, who amongst us could blame him. But he didn’t. Even though, like us, Jesus had the free will to choose, he chose to obey God because he trusted him.
Let us not pretend that this was easy for him. The bible tells us that Jesus sweat blood and tears during the night before the cross. He knew how easy it would be to turn away in fear and that the only way that he could face what He had been called to do, was by calling upon the help of God in prayer.
In surrendering to God’s will to submit to the authority, Jesus freely chose to be led to the most unimaginable pain of the cross. At which point Jesus fulfilled his purpose here on Earth. In life, he showed us the Father’s love in action through healing. In death, he reconnected us to the Father forever more.
Jesus basically rather generously paid through his death for us to have the new life that connection with the Father brings. He has paid the price for everything any of us have, do or will do wrong, so that nothing can ever disconnect us from God again. Jesus is the middle man of all middle men.
We all still have the freedom to ignore the invite to connect with God through Jesus. And let’s face it, Society certainly encourages us to overlook the meaning of Easter by wrapping it in a mass of Chocolate, coloured eggs and cute bunnies.
And if we didn’t come to God freely, it wouldn’t be love but fear and that’s not what He’s looking for. Whilst many have unfortunately bought in to the lie that God is a petty, punitive God looking for chances to punish us with trouble, the truth is that although pain and trials undoubtedly come (Jesus knows all about that), it is God Himself that empowers us to overcome them. So, if we’ve fallen for the lie that God is to blame, we will miss out on the help he offers to bring us through and heal us along the way. (As to why God allows bad stuff to happen, that’s another whole matter – ask your pastor about that one).
Basically it all comes down to trust. Because when we trust God, like Jesus did, no matter how awful things look or are in life, we know that God will turn around the worst situation to bring something of great goodness from it. But that requires us to persevere. Sometimes for a very, very long time before that good thing happens and if we don’t really trust we’ll probably give up before we get there.
So, this Easter, take a moment to consider the meaning of Jesus willingly going to the cross for us. Irrespective of what we’ve come through, how we may have messed up in life, how others may have mistreated us, how broken we are, how desperate for real love or whether we’re simply seeking greater purpose and meaning in life, Jesus knows. He gets us and he gets suffering but he offers to connect us to the God who can help us to find our way out of our old lives and in to the new life that He is calling us to. The God that helps us to fulfil our respective purposes here on Earth, in spite of the rubbish life hurls our way.
What an offer.
Jesus died on Good Friday, which really didn’t look too good at that point.
Rather, it looked like the new life that Jesus taught and promised had died with him.
But no, God raised Him up again on Easter Monday to bring him in to new life.
In doing so God extended the invitation in to new life, through Jesus, to every single one of us.
And God is still extending His personal invitation to us all …
All we have to do this Easter to enter in to this new life, is believe and receive what Jesus has done for us.
And yes, it really is that easy and that’s why it’s called Good News!
Wherever I look right now whether out running or in the car, I see nature declaring NEW LIFE is here.
I see rows of bright yellow daffodils standing to attention along the side of the roads or around folks properties. The crocuses are out en masse within the parks and beautiful pink and white blossom are adorning the trees. Even one of my tulips has tentatively if temporarily treated me to a peak within its petals.
I love this time of year.
Well, not the rain. Or the snow. But I do love to see the green buds of new life poking their way out of winter and in to the spring. It evokes such hope. New growth, new beginnings, new seasons. All is not lost. New life is starting over.
So much new life …
This excites me.
Although looking around at all the dead winter leftovers requiring my removal, excited me a lot less. But after Monday’s display of sunshine, I cleaned the outside table and breakfasted on the patio. The first of the year! And it was glorious!
Afterwhich I felt suitably galvanised to tackle the garden. Out with the old, make way for the new. Just like life really, although the transitions between seasons are seldom smooth or without some work.
I’ve been taught by those way more knowledgeable than myself that if we don’t remove the dead parts from plants, they continue to take nutrients from the soil, thus depriving the new, growing parts. Hence the importance of dead heading and dead part removals. No point feeding something that can no longer produce.
Nature has much to teach us and we would be wise to apply its lessons to our own lives.
What are we feeding our energy in to that could actually be out of season?
Out of season
Which buds of new life are appearing and requiring our attention instead?
The greenery of new growth
I have observed that it is nearly always necessary to let go of the old life to make the space for the new one. We cannot receive a new thing if we have not made the space to do so for we can only hold so much in one pair of hands. Even if they’re really huge hands. We all have limitations. We all have seasons. And in my experience, when it’s time to let go of something, there is nearly always an upgrade on the way.
I’ve noticed recently a few people who either felt a little pushed out of current situations; houses or jobs, only to go on to discover themselves within better houses or jobs. Wowsers huh?
Yet sometimes, we hold on to the old things so tightly even when they cause us pain, that not only do we become stuck with something that is out of season and unable to flourish, but we also block and delay the arrival of the new thing. What stubborn untrusting creatures us humans can be!
Sometimes it can be a type of thinking that blocks the pathway of that which attempts to birth new life within us. Usually fear based. Letting go of the old, can evoke great fear about the unknown. And this may keep us stuck where we are rather than entering in to where we could be. And that’s another whole story.
But new life calls to us all, if only we’ll attune our ears and open our eyes.
The question is, will we choose to accept it?
Anais Nin — ‘And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.’
As I look out of my kitchen window, I feel like I’m looking in to a real live snow globe! And I wonder how long it will be before it settles down.
As I do so I reflect upon the shifting of the seasons. It feels very much as if the winds of change are blowing (from the East apparently!). There may be snow on the ground but there are also buds of new life in evidence. Although I’m not sure how they will fare following this snow!
We’re in between seasons, no longer fully in Winter yet undeniably not yet in Spring. Signs of both seasons are present. We’re in transition. And this happens every single year. Maybe at slightly different times and in differing ways but the seasons come and the seasons go. We know and accept this. Even with all the weather associated grumblings that make us English!
Winter & Spring Transitions
Yet how much more as humans can we resist the changing seasons of the soul. We can fall in to the ‘comfort’ of just wanting life to stay the same. At least if things are going well. And even when they’re not, we can still opt for the familiar over the unknown.
Yet nature reminds us that nothing stays the same. Ever. Everything changes. Constantly. Either that or it dies.
We too are invited to be open to change. Not just to find a nice comfortable way to live and stay there forever more. But to be open to the ongoing changing seasons along with all the endings and loss that precipitate growth and new life.
As I observe the shifting of the seasons of nature, I know that I cannot make the winter stay simply to avoid the change that Spring will bring. I equally know that I cannot fast track in to spring to avoid the dead and the cold of winter. I accept this and I trust it.
The external changes I see within nature reflect something of the internal changing of the seasons of my soul. I can’t see them in the same way and I don’t know what the new season will look like. I know only that it will not be the same as the previous or existing one.
My season of the soul is effectively under review.
It is no longer what it was, neither is it yet what it will be.
It is in transition.
I am in transition.
Strange but exciting.
When I look back to the season of last year, I see new life in the areas of work, play and ministry. It was full of colourful and varied expressions of creativity from the kitchen to the garden, to my work and ministry.
I felt full of life and new ventures. It was exciting, enlivening, over full in honesty and at times terrifying. But I loved it. Mostly. I felt very alive.
Then the death of a loved one came and I was stopped in my tracks. I tried to resume life as I’d known it before but I couldn’t. I needed to pull back, slow down, stop, rest, heal and reconsider all.
As I continue to do this, I notice a natural stripping back occurring. As a self-employed individual, the financial controller part of myself has started to ask some uncomfortable questions. Fortunately, these days the spiritual part of me has walked with God for long enough to know that when things suddenly start shifting, I need to pay attention for God is on the move and in control. And way more dependable than any finance.
I have learned and I am continuing to learn way beyond the honeymoon period of knowing, through many periods of doubt and despair, that no matter what is happening in my life or how I feel about it, God remains trustworthy in all matters. Not for life to be how I want or to be exempt from the trials but that He is always there ready to help me to overcome whatever comes at me that I may continue becoming all that I have been made to be. As well as continuing to pursue the paths, the plans and the purposes that He has for me. No matter what. For His plans always supersede anything I could ever come up with.
And so, as I realise that it is God who is stripping me back right now, I am beginning to loosen my grip upon all things known in my life that the winds of change may take away that which I need to let go of to make room for that which I am being prepared for.
This is a live process. It’s moving constantly and hard to capture in words right now. I don’t really know what is happening within me. I don’t really know what the outcome of this seasonal shifting will be. I don’t know what I will have to relinquish from my life nor what I will find in its place. I don’t really know what will happen, when or how. I know only that it is happening. And that I can fight this process out of fear or I can surrender and embrace what is to come out of expectation and anticipation. Ultimately out of trust for the one who does know for I believe that it is He who is engineering this seasonal shifting.
Trust is such a key element of being a human. Trust in ourselves, in our God, in others and in life. Trust that just as nature reminds us that the seasons do what they need to facilitate the next season, so too do we when we trust and surrender.
We can’t stay in any one season forever more. It isn’t possible. Everything that lives continues to move, to change and to grow. Including us. But we each must choose whether to go with this or to fight it.
Imagine attempting to stop summer from ever ending. With no stripping back, no season of rest, everything would eventually die off. New life would cease to continue. Ditto with us humans.
New life wants to spring forth within us all. But this cannot happen without the season of pruning, stripping back and rest that facilitate the emergence of new life. Without which something within us begins to die.
We trust in the seasons of nature, that no matter how long it takes, the snow will eventually go and spring will burst forth bringing a colourful array of new life with it. And maybe even some warm sunshine!
Can we trust too in the seasons of the soul?
Can we allow the changes to come?
Not fight to keep things the same?
Not hold so tightly to the old and familiar that we block the arrival of the new and unknown?
Can we simply surrender through trust to the shifting of the seasons?
When I look back fifteen years, my life today bears no resemblance to what it did back then. And I praise God daily for that. When I look back five years ago, my life was entirely different. When I look back a year ago, some things were the same, many were not. Life doesn’t stop ebbing and flowing, birthing new things, seeing others end.
It’s a living thing this life and all living things must go through seasons in order to stay alive. And this includes us.
When I look around at the moment, I see much change occurring in the lives of my friends. Seasonal shifts. A letting go of the old. For some, relinquishing positions they had held for twenty odd years. A willingness to make space for something new. Even when the new thing is not yet seen. A willingness to trust and surrender to the process of life and living and changing and growing.
The winds of change are clearly blowing.
The seasons are indeed shifting.
I don’t know what this means for me or my life right now but I do know that I want to shift with them. I don’t want to get left behind. I’m not sure what will happen as a result but I trust that in the right time, that which is currently unclear will become clear.
