Step by Step - part 3

Look at our labyrinth!  It's not completely finished as we still need to add mulch and finish the stones, but the basic outline is there, and you can walk it.  Step by step didn't take as long as I thought on this project.  In one big step on Saturday afternoon we were able to lay out all the rocks we have into the basic pattern.  Such a sense of accomplishment!

Though our next project, Bethany - the residential program for moms and babies, will take longer than a few afternoons of work, hopefully we will be able to keep the step by step song in mind as we pool our drops of water until we have enough to turn the wheel.  "Drops of water turn a wheel, singly none, singly none."

Yesterday we took our Thistle Farms products to the 2nd Sundays Arts and Music Festival in Williamsburg.  We sold some candles and shower gel and body butter, and we made some great new contacts with people who would like us to bring our products to other places.  It was a very small step in developing our social enterprise, but it takes those small steps.  One more drop of water...

Step by Step part 2

We're building a labyrinth at SpiritWorks.  We've wanted to do it for a couple of years now.  It's based on a Reconciliation Labyrinth that was created to be used in South Africa.  We're calling ours a Healing Labyrinth.  It's been a slow process, researching materials and finding the right piece of land.  We have decided on a little piece of land beside the SpiritWorks Barn, just across the field from our recovery center.  A couple of weeks ago we took a trip to a local quarry and picked up nearly a ton of rocks to use to line the paths of the labyrinth.  Yesterday two yards of mulch were delivered.

We began by laying out strips of ground cloth to cover the grass and serve as our base.  We hadn't bought quite enough, so while one of us went to buy more, I began the process of shoveling the mulch onto the ground cloth.  The song from yesterday's blog post began playing in my mind.  "Step by step, the longest march, can be won, can be won."  When I started heaving shovels full of mulch, it didn't seem like I was even making a dent in the big mound.  Once there were two of us shoveling, it seemed to go faster, but it still took several hours.  And there wasn't quite enough mulch.  But we got it all spread out.  Step by step.

 

I'll post more pictures when we're done.

We have another project at SpiritWorks that we're gearing up for - Bethany.  Bethany is going to be our residential program for moms and babies of addiction.  We're using the model of Magdalene/Thistle Farms that Becca Stevens founded in Nashville.  We have a community in place and now we're working on creating a social enterprise so that we can give women jobs and help them develop the skills they need.  Then we can provide the housing that they need as well.

The process of creating Bethany will be like the process of creating the labyrinth.  Step by step.  When I look at the whole picture, I get overwhelmed.  But we who live in recovery know that we can only live one day at a time, one step at a time.  It's good to look up occasionally and see the whole picture, but we'll only get there one tiny bite at a time.  My ongoing temptation is to think that I need to solve all the problems.  By myself.  Not true.  "Drops of water turn a wheel, singly none, singly none."  Bethany will take time to build and will need many drops of water to get its wheel turning.  Today I'm grateful to be a drop on the wheel.

Step by Step

Step by step the longest march can be won, can be won.
Many stones can form an arch, singly none, singly none.
And by union what we will, can be accomplished still.
Drops of water turn a wheel, singly none, singly none.

Watch John McCutcheon here:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=089gSM2XmR4

This morning I went for one of my run/walks.  Okay, so it's mostly walking with a tiny bit of running.  Close to the beginning of the loop, I was huffing and puffing up a hill - or at least a slight rise in the path, and I looked up to see three young women running toward me.  Wearing snug shorts and sports bras, lean and tan, with long pony tails swinging, they came toward me with the grace and ease of gazelles, running effortlessly at a pace I will only achieve in the dream world. 

I watched the girls go by, admiring their youth and speed and stamina, and for a moment I deflated.  I don't mind so much that I will never be that young again, but I felt discouraged that I've had such trouble motivating to exercise this spring.  I'm only a little overweight, though pretty significantly out of shape, and running isn't bringing me the joy that it did last summer.  It just feels like work.  Hard work.  And most days it seems nicer to stay inside comfortably on the couch. 

As I started to work myself into a bit of a depression over how easy it seemed for those young women to run and how hard it is for me to break a 15 minute mile, (it is said that it's easy to walk a 15 minute mile.  Anyone can do it.  Why then do I have to run a considerable portion to get it down to 15 minutes?!) I reminded myself of this song that I have loved since I first heard John McCutcheon play it in a concert in Convocation Hall in Sewanee.  I have quoted it in sermons and sung it to myself on many occasions.  Step by step.  I'm not going to be able to run at the speed I did in my 5k last August my first few times out this year.  I have to get back into shape, and that can only be done step by step.  Last year at this time, I was discouraged because my knee still hurt and I couldn't run at all.  This year I don't have knee pain.  Progress! 

Anne Lamott tells writers to write just what they can see through a 1 inch picture frame.  You don't write the whole novel on the first day.  In the movie, "Contact" Jodie Foster's dad tells her "Small moves, Ellie, small moves" when trying to make contact on a CB radio.  Step by step.  Yesterday I did my 2.7 mile run/walk.  Today I did it again.  I'm averaging about 15 minutes and 23 seconds a mile, and that's with running.  Step by step, I will get to 15 minutes and even faster.

As for the three girls, well they came up behind me when I was close to the end of my walk and passed me without a glance, sweating more than before, but still running with that effortless grace and speed.  I admired them, but I'm grateful to be at this part of my life with a lot of experience behind me and adventures still ahead.  Part of me wants to come up with some clever comment that would put them down just a little so that I could feel better, but the truth is that I hope that the rest of their lives are going as well for them as this morning's run.  I hope that they enjoy their youth and their grace and that God blesses them with joy and wonder. 

Wade in the Water: Do you want to be made well?

“Wade in the Water”

The Rev. Lauren McDonald

SpiritWorks Recovery Service – Bruton Parish Church

May 3, 2013

John 5:1-9

(Sung)

"Wade in the water,

Wade in the water, children

Wade in the water,

God’s a gonna trouble the water."

We just heard a story about Jesus healing a man who was lying by a pool of water in Jerusalem for 38 years.  There’s a legend about this pool that says every so often an angel would “trouble the water” of the pool or stir it up and while the waters were troubled, the first person into the water would be healed.  So lots of sick people hung out around this pool waiting for the waters to start bubbling so that they could get into the pool and be healed.  The man in the story has been waiting 38 years.

Then along comes Jesus.  He sees the man.  He knows he’s been there for a very long time.  He asks, “Do you want to be made well?” 

What a powerful question.  What would your answer be if Jesus came up to you and said, “Do you want to be made well?”  My initial response is, “Yes, oh yes!  Of course I want to be well.”  If I give it a little thought, though, I might be more hesitant.  Yes, I want to be well, but…  Then I would list a whole bunch of reasons why it might not be possible or why it might not be a good idea or why I might just not be ready yet.  I’d certainly want to know what it was going to require me to do. 

When Jesus asks the lame man whether he wants to be made well he starts listing all the reasons why he can’t be healed.  No one will lift him into the pool.  He’s too slow.  Someone always gets in front of him.  In his mind there’s only one way to be healed – get in the pool while the water is stirred up.  And he’s full of excuses about why that can’t happen.  They’re legitimate – he’s probably tried many times in 38 years.  He does seem pretty attached to making it happen his way, even though his way clearly isn’t working for him.  38 years is a long time.  Maybe it was just easier to stay sick.

In our reading from Melody Beattie’s book, The Language of Letting Go[i], we hear another take on this issue.  Instead of being attached to our own way of getting well, some of us are simply attached to being a victim.  We think other people should be tending to our needs, or we blame other people for us not being able to get well, kind of like the man at the pool blaming others for not putting him in when the water was stirred up.  We think other people ought to be able to read our minds and give us the care we need while at the same time we’re not willing to take care of ourselves or ask for what we need or take the steps necessary to do our part.  Sometimes, deep down, there’s actually something appealing about being a victim – we get to nurse all those wounded hurt and angry feelings, and we don’t have to do the hard work of self-examination and forgiveness.  It might be easier not to take responsibility for getting better.

That brings us to the reading from the Iona community in Scotland[ii].  In this reading we hear someone wrestling with the idea of wanting to be healed but being scared of what will be involved.  What if I have to change?  What if I have to remember things I don’t want to remember or feel things I don’t want to feel?  What if I don’t recognize myself without all my hang-ups, hurts, and habits?  What if people stop paying attention to me?  Sometimes it’s just easier to hold on to the familiar – even if it hurts, at least it’s ours and we’re comfortable with it.

So, do you want to be made well? 

"Wade in the water,

Wade in the water, children

Wade in the water,

God’s a gonna trouble the water."

What I’ve learned in recovery, and maybe you have too, is that healing can be hard.  It can be painful.  It can come at a cost.  And, it’s so worth it.  Sometimes people are blessed with natural recovery or miraculous healing and their addiction, disease, or inner turmoil disappears in an instant, almost like magic.  But most of us don’t have that kind of recovery or healing.  Most of us stare at recovery and know that it’s going to require a lot of hard work.  Sometimes it means wading through some pretty troubled waters.  It means admitting that we need recovery and healing and that we can’t do it on our own.  It means letting go,

         of control,

         of outcomes,

         of old patterns of thinking and ways of being,

         of what is familiar and comfortable.

But here’s the good news, my friends.  When God is the one troubling the waters, then the change that’s coming is going to be good. 

When we stop clinging so tightly to our own solutions,

         when we drop our defenses and open ourselves to God,

                  when we let God in to clean and cauterize our wounds,

                           then miracles happen.

When we surrender to the changes God is making in our lives,

         when we let go of our own wills and seek God’s instead,

                  when we jump into the water that God is stirring up and allow it                           
                         to cleanse and wash us, then the miracles occur. 

That’s when healing happens.  Cleaning wounds can be a painful process, but when it’s done, then the infection is gone and the wounds can heal.  God is working in us and through us all the time, doing new things in our lives, redeeming everything. 

You see, wading in the waters of God’s love may not always feel like soaking in a warm bathtub or floating in a peaceful lake.  Sometimes God troubles the waters, stirs them up so that what is on the bottom comes up to the top and the hurts and wounds that are buried deep inside are brought to the surface so that they can be bathed in God’s love and healed.  That process can be uncomfortable and even painful at times, but how clean and shiny and new we feel once we’ve gone through it.   

So, do you want to be made well?  If so, come jump in the water with me,

"Wade in the water,

Wade in the water children

Wade in the water,

God’s a gonna trouble the water."

---

[i] The Language of Letting Go by Melody Beattie, March 15, page 71.

Removing the Victim

“Don’t others see how much I’m hurting?”  “Can’t they see I need help?”  “Don’t they care?”

The issue is not whether others see or care.  The issue is about whether we see and care about ourselves.  Often, when we are pointing a finger at others, waiting for them to have compassion for us, it’s because we have not fully accepted our pain.  We have not yet reached that point of caring about ourselves.  We are hoping for an awareness in another that we have not yet had.

It is our job to have compassion for ourselves.  When we do, we have taken the first step toward removing ourselves as victims.  We are on the way to self-responsibility, self-care, and change.

[ii]Gathered and Scattered:  Readings and Meditations from the Iona Community by Neil Paynter, “Healing,”Alix Brown, Month 1 Day 18.                                                                                       

I want to be healed.

Do you know what you’re asking?

For healing’s a journey through doubt and through pain.

And the healing that God brings may take a whole lifetime

with no guarantee that you reckon it gain.

I want to be healed.

Then you’re asking for changes

that shake the foundations you’ve built upon sand.

For the healing that God brings doesn’t follow our patterns

and shapes us in ways we may not understand.

I want to be healed.

Then drop your defenses,

and open your heart, your mind and your soul.

For the healing that God brings probes scars you’ve forgotten,

cauterizing and cleaning and making you whole. 

I want to be healed.

At least, in the future.

Perhaps I’ll just wait till the time feels right.

I’m not sure that God’s healing will suit at the moment.

I’ll hold on to the things that I’m used to – all right?

Fret Not

The first two words of Psalm 37 (depending on translation) are, "Fret not."  I have a friend who used to say to me, "In the words of Psalm 37, 'fret not,'" whenever I called in distress about something.  Fret not?  I am a champion fretter.  I can fret with the best of them.  If you can think of it, I can worry about it.  Especially at night, when it's dark, and I'm trying to go to sleep, and there is nothing left to distract me.  Especially then, I get lost in the cycle of obsessive thinking, worrying, fretting.  It's an unpleasant way to live.

Most of the time, much of what I'm worrying about isn't that important in the scheme of things.  All of the time, worrying won't do anything to change the outcome anyway.  But still, it's so hard to "let go and let God," as they say.  I feel like giving up my worry is irresponsible, that it means I don't care.  No matter that worrying doesn't help anything and generally just makes me unhappy.

So, imagine my surprise when I woke up from the following dream on Friday morning.  In the dream I was on a plane.  I have no idea where I was going.  It seemed that the flight had been very short and was maybe toward some place with palm trees, like Florida.  All of a sudden the plane started heading straight down toward the ground.  I was asked to move something off the seat behind me, and when I looked out the window I knew there was no way we could avoid a crash.  I also knew, in that moment, that I was about to die.  For just a moment, I started to panic.  And then, I let go.  There was absolutely nothing I could do to stop the crash, and I just said, "Okay God, I'm coming to you.  I hope you're ready for me."  And then I thought about all my loved ones and for a split second, I considered trying to call and tell them I loved them, but there was no time.  So I just asked God to take care of them.  Then I released all worry and concern and waited for the crash.  It was as free as I've ever felt, trusting that God had me and that all would be well even though I was about to die.

We didn't crash.  Somehow the pilot pulled out of it at the last minute, and we didn't crash.  I even heard the pilots laughing about what a close call it was.  The next thing I knew we were driving along a road and heading up a hill, and I looked around and said, "Did the plane just turn into an SUV?"  We were in a much smaller vehicle, driving along the road.  Some kind of hybrid vehicle.  And then I woke up.

I hope I can remember the feeling that I had on the plane when I truly let go and let God and released all my fretting and worry and fear.  I wonder if I can get to that state again, now that I know what it felt like.  I hope so, because it was a place of great freedom and trust.  Fret not.  How good it felt not to fret!  And what an amazing solution - a plane that turns into a car.  So much of my fretting is about how I'm going to find a solution to any given problem.  And the worry amps up when I can't see the solution.  Often, God finds a solution I never could have dreamed of.  Maybe not quite as dramatic as a plane turning into a car, but equally unexpected. 

Abundance

During exam week at Christopher Newport University, United Campus Ministries organizes the churches to sign up for slots to provide snacks for the students between 10 a.m. and 4 p.m. each day of the exams.  We can bring any kind of snack as long as it's individually wrapped.  Homemade, store-bought, sweet, salty, healthy, junk, fruit, water, etc.  Yesterday was the day that St. Stephen's and St. Andrew's in Newport News handed out the snacks.  I had put out the announcement a couple of weeks ago and was completely surprised when I walked into the church kitchen yesterday and saw the variety and abundance of snacks that people had contributed. 

I met our volunteers at the assigned table in the David Student Union, and we started putting the snacks out.  We had way too many snacks for the table, so we kept boxes to the side and I left some boxes in the car.  We had homemade cookies and muffins and trail mix, protein bars, chips, cheese/cracker packs, cookie packs, fruit snack packs, pretzels, pringles, combos, and candy of many varieties.  As we yelled out "free snacks" and tried to convince the students that they did not have to pay for the snacks or join anything in order to get the snacks, they either approached quickly or sidled up, still looking for the strings that were attached.  Several of them said, "What's the catch?" 

Most of them were overwhelmed by the abundance.  They had a hard time choosing because there were so many options.  And as soon as they took items, we replaced them with more.  I couldn't help thinking that if heaven were like a giant 7-11 in the sky, then our snack table would be like the heavenly banquet.  What kept occurring to me even more was how the table of snacks, similar to the widow's meal and oil that just kept replenishing itself after she shared it with Elijah, was a metaphor for God's abundant love.  It just doesn't run out.  The ways that God blesses us are as varied as the snacks on that table - there's something for everyone! 

I am so grateful to the folks at St. Stephen's and St. Andrew's for their generosity and for those who came out to show the students in a very tangible way that they are loved.  And I'm grateful to the students who expressed such kindness and gratitude once they overcame their initial fear of those crazy people shouting, "free snacks!"  They got a lesson in receiving yesterday.  Most of them would only take one snack until we urged them that there was plenty and that they could take as much as they wanted.  The volunteers told me how much they enjoyed getting to meet the students, however briefly.  With all the terrible tidings in the news these days, the volunteers were delighted to see so many polite, kind-hearted young people.  Everyone who participated was blessed.

Thanks, God, for providing opportunities for giving and receiving.  Thanks for showing us the way to ease just a little of the stress these students feel as the prepare for and take their final exams.  Thanks for pouring out your love through a table of snacks! 

Shield the Joyous

One of the loveliest collects in the Book of Common Prayer is found in the Evening Prayer and Compline services.

Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or
weep this night, and give your angels charge over those who
sleep. Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary, bless
the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, shield the
joyous; and all for your love's sake. Amen.   (BCP. page 132)

I have always loved this prayer, but the line, "shield the joyous" used to stand out to me as odd.  Shield the joyous?  Why do the joyous need shielding?  Aren't they already happy?  "Shield the joyous" is what I would have prayed at the finish line of the Boston marathon had I known what was about to happen.  Those runners crossing the finish line with a mixture of relief, exhaustion, and joy needed a shield against what would happen next.  If only there had been a shield big enough to protect the runners and crowds from the explosions of the bombs.

I remember when my mom was diagnosed with cancer the 2nd time.  She had come to visit me in Norfolk with a friend, and we had lots of fun activities lined up.  She told me she had had an abnormal mammogram.  It seems to me that it was going to be about a month before she would hear the results of further testing.  She had decided that she was not going to worry because there would be nothing to worry about.  I remember praying "Shield the joyous" during that time, hoping that there would be no cause for worry, trying to live in the present moment and enjoy every minute of it in case the news was bad.  She did have cancer, and there were many months when our prayer shifted to tend the sick, give rest to the weary, soothe the suffering, and pity the afflicted.  

The whole prayer is appropriate now for all who were affected by the events in Boston and Texas last week.  And, of course, the whole prayer is always appropriate for people around the world in a variety of situations.  Tonight, God, I pray again, shield the joyous.  We never know what's around the next bend.  Help us to appreciate our joy in the moment.