A Puzzle, A Breath, and A Prayer

The holidays have been hard for quite a few of my friends: Friends missing loved ones who passed this year—some suddenly, some expected; friends struggling through anxiety and depression; friends missing kids (and other family members) to divorce; friends missing kids they are struggling to have; friends stuck in abusive homes; friends dealing with the affects of mental illness; friends who are lonely; friends continuing to grieve the loss of loved ones from years past.

It’s hard to know what to do for persons feeling so much hurt. It’s hard to know how to help. And yet I find myself doing one thing constantly—even when I don’t know how it “works”—I find myself praying.

I made a puzzle a prayer. For the three hours that it took to put it together, I prayed. (And I think maybe my mom did, too, because she knew my intentions for the puzzle.) With every piece that I put in, I prayed. I offered prayers for strength, peace, endurance, light, love, and healing for a friend whose husband recently passed away. I will give her this puzzle when I see her next and every-time she sees it, she can know that someone was and is praying for her as she works her way through grief. I may a puzzle a prayer.

My breath is a prayer, too. So often, when I know nothing else to do, when I’m in the midst of deep sorrow and hurt, I breathe my prayers. According to mindfulness practice, I breathe in the dark, stale air and breathe out light, fresh air. I imagine Jesus filtering out all of the junk and leaving only that which is good. According to Conscious Discipline (CD) practice, I breathe in and then I wish well. CD practice has nothing to do with faith, and yet, one of its main practices is, in my estimation, a prayer—a hope for something more than what is seen—a standing in solidarity—a wishing well. Breath is a prayer, too.

And so is “Dear God…” That’s it. Dear God…and then the thoughts flow…right into the very heart of God…

The holidays have been hard for quite a few of my friends. It’s hard to know what to do for persons feeling so much hurt. It’s hard to know how to help. And yet I’ve found myself doing one thing constantly—I’ve found myself praying.

Dear God…*Breathe in. Breathe out. Wish Well*…May this puzzle give strength, peace, endurance, light, love, and healing…*Breathe in. Breathe out. Wish Well*…Amen.

Your Place In The Nativity

Thanks to a picture of a Nativity scene where one of the three wise men is holding baby Jesus, I’ve found myself particularly interested in Nativities this year. Truth be told, the interest has been growing over the past few years as 1) I’ve noticed how helpful it is to have a visual image when telling the Christmas story to children, and 2) We went through my Grandmother’s house and I found a handful of Nativities that spoke to me.

After seeing the picture of a wise man holding Jesus, I made it a quiet personal quest to find non-traditional Nativities where persons other than Mary are holding baby Jesus. So far, I’ve seen a picture of a scene where Joseph is holding baby Jesus, but that’s as far as my quest has taken me…sort of…

As I was practicing for a cantata on Saturday morning, I found myself singing, “Come to the manger and kneel as his side, adore Him. Come see him sleeping, this heavenly child, adore Him. This unlikely Savior who sleeps in the cold, this tiny Messiah the prophets foretold. Come see the wonders your eyes will behold, adore Him…” and I suddenly realized what the lyrics were saying:

They were beckoning me, Deanna, to join the Nativity. They were asking me, Deanna, to enter that stable and visit baby Jesus like the shepherds did so many years ago!

And the invitation made me wonder: Where WOULD I have been in the picture had I been there? Would I have been standing at a distance, awestruck by the wonder of it all (or maybe even afraid)? Would I have been talking to Joseph and Mary, inquiring about their well-being? Would I have been trying to make the shepherds feel welcome? Would I have been holding baby Jesus?...

I know that Nativity scenes aren’t accurate. I know that the wisemen didn’t really visit baby Jesus in the stable. I know that there wasn’t snow on the ground on the night that Jesus was born. I know that that night wasn’t silent and still and that the animals weren’t perfectly poised and well-behaved.

Yet, somehow, accuracy doesn’t matter to me this Christmas. Instead, the invitation to join the Nativity is what beckons me to come…and to invite you, too…poorest of the poor…richest of the rich…timid and bold…weak and strong…to imagine yourself in that familiar Nativity…to adore Him…and to see it all anew…again…and again. Amen.

The World When Jesus Was Alive

And I keep having this one thought: There were Native American persons living, breathing, and tending the land that became the United States of America…while Jesus was living, breathing, and tending the souls of people across the world.

I can’t explain why. But this thought has hijacked my mind and it’s pretty much all I can think about this Advent season.

It fascinates me.

It puts new perspective on the Great Commission—on the call to go into all the world and share the gospel of Jesus Christ.

What WAS all the world in the disciple’s minds? Jesus never went beyond 200 miles from home. We know from Paul’s journeys that people knew about Rome…and we know from other stories that Ethiopia and Egypt were on the map…so we can guess that there was a general understanding of European, Asian, and African lands. But just how much of the rest of the world was even imagined when Jesus was alive? Australia? South America? North America?

And to think that persons on those continents had NO IDEA that a man named Jesus existed…and yet, now, all these years later, Jesus is known around the world…one man, one young life, one sacrifice, known by most of humankind.

It blows my mind.

What is something that has blown your mind recently? What is something that you’ve learned? What is something on your mind today? I’d love to hear.

Treat Everyone As A Gift

Have you ever ordered something you wanted online, forgotten that you ordered it, and then surprised yourself with the order when it arrived?

Or have you ever ordered a gift online and then found yourself full of joy and excitement when it arrived—as if you had gotten yourself the gift?

Such has been my life this Christmas season. I’ve ordered myself a few things for school. I’ve ordered my family and friends many things as gifts. And every time, I’ve been excited (and sometimes surprised) when the package has arrived. I’ve found my heart racing as I’ve opened the boxes and I’ve found myself smiling as I’ve removed the packaging to reveal the treasure inside…

Wouldn’t it be neat if we did the same thing with people? Not order them online or cut them open. That would be sketchy and gross. But what if we found ourselves filled with excitement when someone showed up in our lives and we got the opportunity to get to know them and learn what lies beneath what we immediately see?

Yes. This usually takes time. Getting to know someone is not as easy as removing loose packaging. But what if we saw each person as a gift and treated them as such? Even in brief encounters, what if we treated the person as someone or something special?

I know it’s hard in the rush of the holiday season to see anyone or anything other than ourselves and our to-do list. But let us together remember the wise saying: “Be kind to everyone you meet, for everyone is fighting a great battle.” And everyone needs to be seen and celebrated for who they are.

Dispelling Darkness

I remember being afraid that I’d be judged—that people would say that my relationship with God wasn’t strong enough—that I didn’t need counseling but that I needed to “get right with the Lord.”

I remember shaking when I first asked for help—feeling vulnerable—weak—sick. I remember crying.

I remember feeling lost as I walked into counseling for the first time. I remember having no idea what to say or do. I remember sitting on the couch and feeling very weird. I remember spewing a whole bunch of things that were in my heart and on my mind. And I remember crying again…to a total stranger…who would come to be God’s Love and Light when I needed it most.

I have been in counseling for twelve years now, and I have seen three different therapists. There have been months when I’ve not seen anyone. Life has kept me away. But for the most part, I have been in counseling at least once a month for all of those twelve years—sometimes in crisis, most of the time in the normal rhythms of the life of one who struggles with anxiety and works in the helping professions—all the while in a safe space of no pretense—a container of holding for every part of my life—pleasant, unpleasant, and neutral.

Counseling has helped me understand God more fully and deeply. It has expanded my understanding of the Creator, made me more amazed at the Redeemer, and caused me to be ever more aware of the presence of the Sustainer. Trinity God is alive, active, and well, and counseling has helped me see and understand that much…all the while helping me to see and understand myself.

And yet…there is still such a stigma about counseling. There is still the belief that Christians (or strong people in general) shouldn’t need counseling—that if our relationship with God (or our family or friends) is strong enough then we shouldn’t need outside help—that if we just “get right with the Lord” then all will be well.

Well, friends, I’m here to tell you: That stigma is a dark, damning lie.

God has not called us to go at life alone. Instead, God has given us the ability to know that there are times when we must ask for and seek human help. As a result, God has given us family, friends, colleagues, church family, pastors, teachers, doctors, counselors, and other professionals to provide us with the help that we need.

Dear friends: Depression and anxiety are illnesses. They are very often brain chemical imbalances that need to be treated, and the best treatment is talk therapy (and oftentimes the addition of medication). We have no shame in treating most physical illnesses; therefore, we must stop shaming the reality of mental illnesses that are crippling millions of children, teenagers, and adults, and we must stop punishing ourselves by pretending that everything is alright when it so clearly is not.

May we be a people of Love and Light; telling our stories and dispelling the darkness of fear, shame, and lies; offering hope and giving permission to seek help to those who need it; and mustering the courage to ask for help when we ourselves need it most.

Amen?

And amen.

The Decade Challenge

Ten years ago, I was a recent Divinity School graduate who was working her dream job and learning the ropes of the vocational ministry career that she thought would be her life’s work. I was living with an 85-year-old widow named Mary who had more energy than me, and we often ate tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches together for supper. I spent many nights either bundled up in my Snuggie or in full-body flannel pajamas because Mary kept the house so cold, and I binge-watched “Touched By An Angel” on the Hallmark Channel before binge- watching became a popular thing.

Fast forward a decade and I am sitting at my desk at school, surrounded by Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and Christmas books. I have just come in from car-rider duty where I waved and smiled enthusiastically at my car-rider parents whom I feel a strange connection with. I spent the middle of my day teaching about Beethoven and the aforementioned Hanukkah, but I began and ended my day with the Gingerbread Man. What a cute yet unlovable character. Is it bad that I’m glad that he gets eaten by the fox? Or that I think it’s funny when my students get so dizzy that they look drunk while spinning like a dreidel?

[Selah]

If I’ve learned anything in ten years, then I’ve learned that it’s impossible to know what life will look like in ten years. Shoot! It’s impossible to know what life will look like tomorrow. We can make plans. We can make predictions. But the twists and turns of life’s journey are as difficult to project as the those of a country road with no reflectors, late at night, the first time you’ve driven it. And to make things more difficult, you never know when a deer of a situation will happen to you or when you will make a user-error and drive yourself right off the road.

[Selah]

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” (Matthew 6:34)

I am trying. I am trying to live each moment to the fullest. I am trying to cherish where I am as I am here and not to wish away my present by wishing for a future that I don’t even know how to wish for. If life were left up to me, then it would be pretty boring, because I can’t even begin to imagine the things the Great Artist Creator has yet to create. Some of life’s greatest blessings come unexpectedly. Some of God’s best creations are those that are formed from the dust and rubble of our mistakes…or of the crap that happens to us despite our best regards.

[Selah]

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7)

Peace, friends, peace. And dreidels and Snuggies and Gingerbread Men and binge-watching your favorite shows. Today…and ten years from now…and forevermore.

[Selah]

The Next Right Thing

My niece and I went to see Frozen 2 on Friday. I’m happy to report that we both gave it a thumbs up and declared that we would see it again if asked. I don’t want to give any spoilers, so I won’t write much about the film, but I will say this: It wasn’t a typical Disney love story.

In one scene that is uncharacteristic of other Disney films I’ve seen, one of the characters has a total crisis of belief and sings one of the most beautiful songs I’ve ever heard. For anyone who has ever battled with grief, depression, anxiety, or any other dark night of the soul, the song captures the truth that we have inevitably discovered: All we can really do in life is the next right thing—take one right step at a time—not try to look so far into the future that we become overwhelmed by the reality that we see nothing—not try to look so far into the future that we become overwhelmed by the possibilities of what could go wrong (or right).

As the song in the movie says:

“Just do the next right thing
Take a step, step again
It is all that I can to do
The next right thing

I won't look too far ahead
It's too much for me to take
But break it down to this next breath, this next step
This next choice is one that I can make

So I'll walk through this night
Stumbling blindly toward the light
And do the next right thing
And with the dawn what comes then?
When it's clear that everything will never be the same again
Then I'll make the choice to hear that voice
And do the next right thing…”

I have a sign in my room that says, “Dee says, ‘One step at a time.’” It’s my footprints from 1st grade. My students sometimes ask me about the footprints. I tell them what they are and they are fascinated that I had feet when I was younger 😊.

I doubt any of them will ever realize the significance not of me having feet when I was younger but of the message that I am trying to send them every time they enter my classroom, but I can hope: One step at a time, dear students. One step at a time. Don’t try to speed up your childhood. But don’t try to slow it down either. Move forward with purpose—knowing that there is a future to come. But move forward deliberately—always trying to do the next right thing. And if it turns out that you made a mistake, don’t worry and fret—simply start from where you are and do the NEXT right thing.

You can do it, dear student. You can do it, dear friends. We can do it together…this next right thing.