A Journey Through Lent - Day 12 (February 27, 2024)

 

Theme: Empathy

Scripture: Hebrews 2:18 The New Revised Standard Version
Because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested.

Devotional:
"Lean on me, Dawnn, lean on me." 

I couldn't catch my breath. The tears gathered in my eyes prevented me from being able to see who was talking, but I knew and was keenly aware that my spouse was whispering those words to me as we stood waiting to enter the sanctuary for my brother's celebration of life after he died.

This was one of the hardest times of my life. My brother, one of my closest friends despite our nine-year age difference was no longer with us. I wasn't quite sure that my legs would continue to prop me up or that I had the strength to walk the aisle to sit down. 

Lean on me. These words offer me comfort even now when I am nearly two years removed from this day. For some, the words lean on me is a command. It is a promise that even if you *can't stand, you are supported. And in a moment of fear, disorientation, or extreme grief, the promise of support is necessary.

As an empath, or one who feels deeply the pain of others, I am often the one whispering to another, "lean on me." Honestly, as many times as I have said it, I don't think I have ever estimated the impact of what hearing those words could be for someone. Until I heard them that day.

Lean on me. How many times do you think we are prompted by Spirit to "lean on me" and we don't? And it makes some sense actually. It is difficult to surrender, lean in or lean on anything or anyone. Some of us lead such a life of independence that the idea of "leaning on someone," feeling supported in the weak times, or receiving the promise of support feels foreign.

As I sit in reflection today, mostly reflecting about the things happening in my personal orbit; pondering the things I am discerning and wondering where God is in it all, I am compelled to lean on the folks who have most recently beckoned me toward them. I asked God to reveal me to me in this Lenten season. And I have seen some of the areas where my faith is challenged, weak even and God is asking me to "lean." More, God has sent people to me who have extended an invitation for me to lean.

Admittedly, for my type A, first born, exceptional and gifted child brain, the command to "lean on me" feels scary. I can figure things out myself because I have been doing it for years. I can. And still God speaks...

Lean on me.

Recalling how safe and supported I felt when my spouse whispered those words two years ago, I am compelled to try (God) again.

I think I will.

Prayer:
God, help me to lean on you. Call me toward it one more time, please. Remind me that I am safe, supported, and secure if I would only lean. And when I forget to lean, remind me quickly. Bring to my remembrance the comfort I feel when I lean. Help me to see where I could stand to "lean on" even more. I trust you, God. 

Reflection Questions:
In what areas are *you being invited to lean in? What has God asked you to lay down and trust God for support? Are you the person that is often leaned on? How has someone's support and invitation to "lean on me" impacted you?

A Journey Through Lent - Day 11 (February 26, 2024)

 

Theme: Seasons

Scripture: Ecclesiastes 3:1 The New International Version
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:

Devotional:
Is there really a time for *everything? 

I'm not sure where I land on this question. Of course, I know what scripture says, "there is a time for everything, and a season for every activity...," but there are parts of me that wonder if there really is a time for everything. Everything. That's such a large concept. 

Everything means *nothing is left out. Every *thing has a time.

Yes, I am aware that I am speaking in circles but follow me, I promise I am going somewhere with this.

I recently felt very tired while I was at work and wondered (out loud) do I have time to take a nap? I have heard from friends who text and say, "call me." My response is almost automatic, "I don't have time."

I am often overwhelmed by the number of times that I say, "I don't have time." And, mostly, that is true. I work. I have a family. I have friends. I have hobbies. I don't have time, though. It has also been said that we make time for what we want. Sigh. That is true too. 

Yet, I want to go somewhere else with this question of time. Not long ago, I was sitting with an acquaintance, and I made mention of my youngest brother's premature and tragic death. In the middle of my talking about it, I was struck by this thought, "how long will I be *allowed to grieve his death?" Is there a time limit? This brings me back to my original question, "is there really time for *everything?" And how much time do we get?

If there is a time to laugh and a time to cry, how much time?
If there is a time to mourn and a time to dance, who -or what - determines the time to do either?

We live in a busy time. We are moving here to there - and quickly. We are rushing time and very rarely have enough of it. And, yet we - and scripture - says there is a time to do it all. Is it?

I want time to take a nap. Can I?
I want time to be sad about a broken relationship. Can I?
I want time to feel disappointed that things didn't work out at my job. Can I?

I want time to experience the ordinary *AND the extraordinary - at the same time.
I want time to let the dishes sit - and not feel bad about it.

Is there time for *all of that? A better question is, can I make time for *all of that?

For me, because I have convinced myself that I don't *have time, I don't *take time to do any of these things. Then I sit. I seethe. I stew. All because I didn't give - or take - time.

Prayer:
God will redeem the time. God will redeem my time. God will restore. For all the ways I have wasted time, I repent. For not giving myself time to feel what I feel, when I feel it, God forgive me. 

God will redeem my time. God will restore. I believe; God, help my unbelief.

Reflection Question:
What have you not given yourself time to do? What takes up most of your time? What time do you need God to redeem for you?

What do you need time to do...?

• Cry
• Sulk
• Imagine
• Mature
• Yell
• Scream
• Write
• Quit

I need time to __________.

A Journey Through Lent - Day 10 (February 24, 2024)

 

Theme: Story

Scripture:  2 Corinthians 3: 2-3 The Message Version
You yourselves are all the endorsement we need. Your very lives are a letter that anyone can read by just looking at you. Christ himself wrote it—not with ink, but with God’s living Spirit; not chiseled into stone but carved into human lives—and we publish it.

Devotional:

What Is Your Six-Word Story?

A six-word story is an entire story told in six words. It is a short narrative that can have all of the emotional themes of longer stories—from funny to dramatic, sad to scary. While these quick stories don’t have the classic beginning, middle, and end of a traditional storyline, they have a subject and verb that give the reader a sense of what’s happened and a bit of conflict.

The most famous Six- Word story is attributed to Ernest Hemingway (although apparently there's no evidence or proof that he actually wrote it):

"For sale: baby shoes. Never worn.”

As I have been reflecting during this Lenten season, asking God to reveal me to me, I have been struck by the number of stories that I hold inside my heart and mind. I did not realize that I was holding these stories until recently when I joined The Chicago Playback Theater Ensemble. This organization is a local non-profit IMPROV group, who uses story as a way to build empathy, community and to bear witness to folks' lived experiences. It has been life changing!

And Playback Theater has revealed that I have a lot to say. When we gather for rehearsal each week, we take turns sharing stories that we then perform - on the spot - using improvisation, movement, and music. It has been a lot to sit with because the stories started bubbling up and it has been difficult to put a stop to them. Even once rehearsal has ended, the stories continue to play in my mind -some haunting me, some leaving me doubled over in laughter, and two (so far) bringing me to tears. For me, as I have reflected for the past two weeks, there are so many reasons why these stories are buried so deep within. Fear. Shame. Lack of safety. No container. Embarrassment. Yet, even with each of these emotions attached to the buried story, I know that my story matters. It does.

We all have a story to tell. Our story bears the marks of our triumph, defeat, love, lament, celebration, salvation, and the lists continues. What is your story?

In my spiritual imagination, Jesus' Six-Word story would be:

"Death has failed; I got up!"

[One of] my six-word stories:

"Assault tried hard; I'm still here!"

Prayer:
God, Your love for us is the greatest story ever told. Help us to hold that story and let it buoy our hearts in gratefulness. And then when we forget that love story, God, remind us so that we don't stray too far. Help us, too, to share our stories with each other. Show us that our story can be the very thing that liberates someone else. And as we move toward freedom for ourselves, help us to see, help us to know, and help us to love others by holding their story, too. 

Reflection Question:
How has someone else's story impacted your life? What is your six-word story?

*For help writing your six-word story, click HERE.

A Journey Through Lent- Day 8/9 (February 22 & 23, 2024)

 

Theme: REST

Scripture:  Psalm 46:10a The New International Version
He says, “Be still, and know that I am God.

Devotional:
You will probably notice that this blog post is a day late. And you will also notice the theme is REST. Perhaps you're *now wondering how these two sentences are related :) Well...

Last night, after a week of intense emotional lifting (see post from Wednesday, February 21) I sat at the computer and realized that I was EXHAUSTED. I started to write - and stopped. I started again -and this time I completed one sentence - and stopped. Again.

I decided - in that moment - to STOP, listen to what my body was telling me, which was go home and BE STILL, and to pick up and try again today! So...I did (hence no blog post)

Eureka! Success!

I was clear, there was something in my spirit that was telling me to BE STILL. It was more than my physical exhaustion. It was more than my emotional fatigue. My spirit commanded, BE STILL! 

I listened. 

And that's the whole of the story from last night. I didn't write a blog. I stopped. I listened. That's it. That's all!

This morning during my devotion, I pondered what Spirit (THE Spirit) was speaking to me about today's blog. I had a specific prayer that I went to bed with last night and was longing to hear a response. And I did. 

To be clear, I don't always hear a response when *I want the answer. No, it doesn't happen like that, for me. But this morning, it did. 

I listened. I heard. I will obey. (And I will share more about *that when the time is right!)

For you, I invite you, too, into a posture of BE(ing) STILL! Hear what Spirit is speaking. Listen. Hear. OBEY!

Prayer:
God, help me to BE STILL. Selah.

Reflection Question:
Has God/Spirit ever commanded you to BE STILL? Did you listen? Was it difficult? Did you learn anything in BE(ing) STILL?

A Journey Through Lent - Day 7 (February 21, 2024)

 

Theme: Grief

Scripture: Psalm 31:9 The New International Version
Be merciful to me, Lord, for I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow, my soul and body with grief.

Devotional:
Grief. I tried to avoid writing about grief but, somehow, it has gripped me fiercely since yesterday and refuses to let me go. The only way I know to exorcise my reluctance is to ‘just do it” – write about it, that is.

Grief.

Some church leaders are reluctant to join in a discussion about grief and loss because the stakes are high.  My assessment concludes that we are fearful of the topic because it undoubtedly will lead to reflections about the pain and suffering of others *and our personal losses. It hurts to talk to others about their pain.  It is often unbearable to confront our *own pain. For me, I have had my fair share of grief and loss – more than I care to count, especially in these last few years. Yet, I have not experienced as much as others. Of course, this is not an oppression Olympics so there’s no medal to procure for the person who has suffered the most loss or experienced a lot of grief. Still, grief and loss, for some, is a distant thought – until it lands on the ledge of our personal, physical, or professional lives. There really is no perfect, ‘one-size-fits-all,’ method for dealing with grief or loss.  Avoidance, distraction, or isolation may seem like good solutions, and may seem to work for a period.  All that I have come to understand through my research and personal reflection, however, suggests that these alternatives will eventually break down, forcing us to deal with the loss and grief.

Today I shared lunch and space with the women of Questers @ FCC (thank you, Barbara Burleson, for the invitation). They fired questions at me about my life, work, and my family. However, it wasn’t until the question was asked of me, “Pastor Dawnn, you do a lot for so many people. So where do you go to refuel? How are you fed while you are feeding us?” Well, damn. I wasn’t prepared for that question (which if you know me in real life, you know *that doesn’t happen often. Smile!) But in that moment – right in that moment – I felt it. I am grieving. In real time. I am grieving. My answer to her was real. With my head bowed, I said, “I don’t know.” And my grief about that eclipsed the rest of the conversation.

Grief is not only when you’ve experienced the physical loss of someone. It is much more expansive than that. And as I sit here now, reflecting on that question, my response, and my grief, I am reminded of a resource that I use in trauma training about grief (yea, I do whole trainings on this topic and completely missed it for myself!). I discuss disenfranchised grief.

Disenfranchised grief explores the process – or lack thereof – of grief for persons who have experienced the loss of a meaningful or significant attachment.  This loss, however, may not be openly recognized, socially validated, or publicly mourned by others thus rendering it disenfranchised. Whew! Yes, this is precisely what I am feeling - disenfranchised grief. This, for me, is different than the grief I experienced when my youngest brother died in 2022. Of course, I – eventually – grieved our loss. But lately relationships have changed. I lost a very meaningful connection with a young person. I have lost time with people who mean a lot to me. I am experiencing slight loss of hearing. My mobility – due to age and poor physical health – has been challenged. And the list continues. Perhaps some of you have lost fur babies, bodily autonomy, decision- making abilities, professional status’, driving privileges, or even a loss of certainty about what happens as you age, when you die, or as you change. These are all losses that, for many, are not – or cannot – be validated, recognized, or affirmed. This is grief –albeit disenfranchised – too.

This is getting long (but I have a lot more to say about this. Perhaps I will do a workshop, eh?) so I will tie it up here. As a pastoring person (who is also a mental health clinician – both helping professions), who isn’t clear about where I am refueled, filled, or replenished, I have a lot of grief related to a lack of container or places where I can get what *I need. I also have grief related to the fact that I couldn’t name that for myself – until I was asked publicly and couldn’t respond.

Now I am sitting in my office, reflecting on the experience, on the verge of crying and my heart prayer is “God, give me space to grieve. Give me a container in which I can pour my grief *and receive relief – for me. God, calm my anxiety about the scary world *and help me to realize that You are walking with me – even in my disenfranchised grief about the things I can’t control.”

Prayer:
See prayer above. If you want, you can say it, too.

And for good measure, GOD HELP ME, is an excellent prayer, too!

Reflection Question:
What are you grieving? Is there space for grief in your life? Even if it is a loss that others don’t validate, are YOU able to name it? What do YOU need from God that feels like a response to your grief?

A Journey Through Lent- Day 6 (February 20, 2024)

 

Theme: Mercy

Scripture: Psalm 145:8 The Message Version
God is all mercy and grace - not quick to anger, is rich in love.

Devotional:

For many, Lent is synonymous with guilt. As we have already learned, Lent is the opportunity afforded us each year to reflect. For some it is a reflection of God’s goodness and our sinfulness. For others, it is a glaring look at what we’ve done wrong and a chance to transform into something – or someone – better. In this practice we can rid ourselves of our guilty conscience and deny ourselves certain pleasure – all for the sake of making up for the mistakes we’ve made.

Mistakes. Whew! We all make them. And for some of us, they make us.

There was an imprint made years ago that continues to hijack my thoughts – I am not good enough! I used to wonder where that idea came from but when I think back to my early adolescence, I am reminded of being with my paternal grandmother and constantly being criticized because I wasn’t doing “it” right.  “It” was representative of several things, but whatever “it” was I was doing “it” incorrectly.  That idea stuck with me because later I realized that when I did “it” right my grandmother was happy.  Four decades later and I am still trying to get “it” right. For her, my mistakes were a poor reflection of our family and projected a negative image to people around us.  My grandmother’s way of scolding me was much more severe than a spanking (though at 8, 9, or 10 years old I was probably thankful).  She would withhold conversation, hugs, and smiles.    To a precocious young girl, who found happiness and energy in relationships with other people, this withdrawal of interaction was counterproductive. Even now I am paralyzed by the idea of making mistakes.

AND I am thankful for God’s mercy.

For me, mercy is when God doesn’t give me what I deserve because of the mistakes I have made. When I think about mistakes, ironically, I don’t view it as much different than my early relationship with my grandmother.  When I perform outside of the lines then certain privileges are withheld from me.  This kind of thinking grates against the very idea of the kind, loving, and forgiving God that I know exists, though.  I believe in the God who forgave David for his acts of adultery, but it is difficult for me to understand that kind of God.  And even though the Bible is full of stories and passages of a forgiving God, who withheld punishment because of love and compassion, it is also full of stories of people who were punished for their wrongdoing and who jeopardized harmonious relationship with God because of wrongdoing. 

AND I am thankful for God’s mercy.

Admittedly, I have great compassion for others and their mistakes. I just struggle sometimes with compassion for myself. (Plus, you have heard me say before that I am a much better teacher than I am a practitioner; yes, I am a work in progress!)

As I continue to lean into the Lenten season, reflecting on my spiritual, emotional, mental landscape, I am emboldened to sit more with my thoughts about mercy and mistakes. Since I long to experience God in a more tangible way and explore how God shows up for me in everyday scenarios, I will imagine (and embrace) the compassionate, loving, MERCIFUL God, whose mercy never ceases.

AND I am thankful for God’s mercy!

Prayer:
God I am thankful for your mercy. I receive the grace, love and compassion that you lavishly pour into my life. I am even more grateful for the ways that you show me how to extend this gift to others. God help me to see that mistakes are part of what it means to learn. We aren’t always going to get it right. AND we should also understand that when we get it wrong, Your mercy (and love!) gathers us! God, I hope to embrace – in this season – what it means to receive mercy for my mistakes. Thank you, God, for speaking to my heart today and for showing me that there is mercy for mistakes.  

Reflection Question:
Do you struggle to show mercy to others? Yourself? To what has mercy said no, in your life?

 

 

A Journey Through Lent - Day 5 (February 19, 2024)

 

Theme: Authenticity

Scripture: Psalm 139: 13-14 The New International Version
For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful; I know that full well.

 

Devotional:
During yesterday’s worship service, Rev. Bill White, our guest minister, spoke of maturing, becoming who we are, who we will be. I was struck by that thought for the better part of the day. For me, it raised some questions about what it means to live an authentic life. This is not my first time reflecting on what it means to be authentic. In fact, I probably spend too much time in my head thinking and reflecting 😊 I landed and ended my day reflecting on authenticity, what it is, who I am and how I do – and don’t – lean into authenticity daily. 

In the book, A Whosoever Church:  Welcoming Lesbians and Gay Men into African American Congregations, Rev. Dr. Jacquelyn Grant was asked, “What kind of advice do you have for African American lesbians and gay men who are trying to find a church or who are thinking about leaving the church (133)?”  Her response, “my advice most times is, ‘well, if you leave the church, who’s going to be there to fight; who’s going to be there to struggle; who’s going to be there to change things?” 

When I first admitted that I was committed to living a full, balanced life, that is, fully engaged to my Call as a minister/Pastor *and* completely connected to my relationship with my same gender spouse I was ready to ‘leave the church.’  Though I desperately wanted to continue my service to God and God’s people, I was willing to ‘turn in my collar’ because I was painfully aware of the treatment of the LGBTQIA+ community in many Christian faith traditions.  The thought of leaving, however, made my heart grieve. My heart could not bear the idea of walking away. So, instead I committed to staying and engaging with my colleagues in the work of reframing the spiritual journey of Christian faith.  This was God’s gift of love to me.

My journey is not complete.  For me part of the journey toward loving myself is to continue to seek, search and find what Howard Thurman calls “The Sound of the Genuine.” He says “there is in every person something that waits and listens for the sound of the genuine in herself…nobody like you has ever been born and no one like you will ever be born again – you are the only one…don’t be deceived and thrown off by all of the noises that are a part even of your dreams and your ambitions that you don’t hear the sound of the genuine in you.”  (The Sound of the Genuine, Baccalaureate Address, University of Indianapolis)

I am a daughter, a sister, a wife, and a friend.  I am a pastor, a student, and a teacher.  I am all these things because I hear the genuine in myself.  And I love hearing that sound, which at times is garbled and distorted; I am learning to be okay with that, too.  But the best part of it all is that if I am quite enough and we can trust each other enough to move past some of our otherness, I can hear the sound of the genuine in you, too.

Prayer:
God, help me to see me. Sometimes I am a mess – unforgiving, selfish, I lack grace and waste opportunities to do good. And other times, I am full of compassion for my neighbors, love for my enemies and grace for myself. It doesn’t make sense *and* I know that I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Help me to lean into this knowledge of myself and to accept that I am still becoming who I am. Selah.

Reflection Question:
Who are you, really? How do you show up for yourself? Do you show up for yourself? What areas are the most authentic you?