12 Right After It's Over

Perhaps it's been a while since "your life snapped at the stem," as Kate and Jessica write (p 69). Or maybe your wound is still fresh and raw. 

Depending on where you are in the healing journey, I'm not sure how helpful this chapter will be to you, but I suspect, if it doesn't speak to you know, it will. Someday. I hope it at least gives you something to hope for in the future if it feels out of reach right now. 

I know this isn't exactly the image of the tree she talks about, but I'm guessing it's pretty close:

This palm tree, as they write, "made a series of important choices" - "in a shocking act of hubris" it decides to grow sideways and then "rather impertinently, grew straight toward the sky" (pp 68-69). 

In the aftermath of our life snapping, the best we can do is survive. "Try to sleep. Remember to eat. Keep breathing" (p 69). 

And while it is SO. VERY. TEMPTING. to think we need to bounce back right away - even better than we were before life snapped! -- perhaps a better use for our time would be to linger in the moment, connecting with our humanity where it really is OK to be sad and afraid and tired and confused. 

Not to stay there, for sure, but to linger there long enough to admit those things to ourselves and to God and maybe even to a friend. And to let God and a friend sit and linger with us in that place before we "move forward" (p 71). 

Friends, these seem like especially important words for us to be reading right now -- the week that Naomi Judd died by suicide just a day before being inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame and the news of a third Division 1 female athlete's death (James Madison University's star catcher Lauren Bernett) by suicide. 

"Please, please, please, hear me say to you: You are not ruined or broken or a failure. You are simply in pain. And God is with you. This is God's great magic act, in my opinion. The more we suffer, the more we can't get away from God's insistent love (p. 70)." 

Again, maybe it's been a while since the trunk of your life snapped, or maybe the snap is still fresh and raw. 

But I still think these words are for all of us: 

"Blessed are you, starting to sense that maybe sunlight can reach you, even here. And you reach out, finding yourself in a fierce embrace. And God's voice saying: You are not the bad thing. You are not ruined. You are not broken, nor over, nor a failure, nor learning a lesson. You are my suffering one, and you are love, you are loved, you are loved" (p 72). 

Pastor Allison 

I'm curious: 

I've been thinking a lot about the Henry David Thoreau quote Kate and Jessica include at the end of this reflection: 

"Make the most of your regrets; never smother your sorrow, but tend and cherish it till it comes to have a separate and integral interest. To regret deeply is to live afresh." 

I've always heard people rather proudly say they never have any regrets. Which I guess means they just accept what happens as what happens. If you are someone who regularly says this, how would you respond to the idea of "making the most of your regrets?" 

How might cherishing our sorrows might lead to "life afresh?" Can you even wrap your mind around that, or is it just too far outside of your experience of life and loss so far? 

11 Happy Enough

Kate and Jessica remind us that we all live inside an "economy of desire" (p 63). We all (think we) want "Big Moments" (p 62) that will provide enough mountaintop experiences to last a lifetime. 

But here's the thing: if we only define our lives by "big moments," we'll constantly be left wanting more and working harder to make more moments and being even more disappointed when the big moments don't pan out. 

It can quickly turn into a mindset of scarcity. 

Fill in your own desire blank: 

I'll never be _____________ enough. 

Never good enough. 
Never perfect enough. 
Never thin enough. 
Never powerful enough. 
Never successful enough. 
Never smart enough, certain enough, safe enough. 

It's so simple to look at the people around you (in-person or through a screen), and lament all the places where you think you'll never be "________ enough." 

Perhaps in today's devotional we have reached the heart of what Kate and Jessica's book Good Enough is all about: leaving behind the pursuit of perfection and instead, seeking CONTENTMENT. 

They write, "Desire can feel like an endless hunger, but there is a feeling we get when we feel full: contentment" (p 62).

I appreciate Kate's story about her mom (pp 63-64) and the grand, old stained-glass window that wasn't nearly as stupendous as expected, but how her mom was "pleased as punch anyway because, hey, it was good enough" (p. 64). 

I suppose this ties in a bit with the reflection on "Mourning a Future Self" we talked about last week, but for today I want to think about what it means to be full. 

And satisfied. And to feel like the life I'm living is enough. 

It's definitely not the life I thought I'd be living (as I mentioned here), but I'm learning to pay closer attention to the "big moments" that happen in the quiet moments of my life. 

Like last night's impromptu dinner out with friends: by the time we were finished, my belly was full and my heart was content. There was nothing too remarkable about the gathering, and yet because of the people who gathered around that table and how much they mean to me, it felt incredibly remarkable. Unforgettable even. 

Yet it's something that's likely to happen again the next time someone messages the group to say they don't want to cook and does anyone else want to get something to eat?

And I know that when I reheat yesterday's dinner leftovers for today's lunch, I will remember that feeling of being satisfied and content. 

Blessed are you, they write, amid the ordinary details that define what life is for you, right now. And as you see them, greet them - each one - as you smile and call them by name. Everyday joys. Small pleasures. Birds chirping. Cat cuddles. A cold glass of water. A little child calling your name. The breeze on your cheeks. The ocean rhythm. The perfect pillow. The kindness of a friend. Loves that are and were and ever will be" (p 65, "A Blessing for the Life You Have"). 

Pastor Allison 

I'm curious: 

How would you fill in the "never ____________ enough" blank? Do Kate and Jessica say anything in this chapter that speaks to that desire? Can you imagine what contentment might feel like if you managed to let go of that standard or expectation you may never live up to? Why do you think you're still holding on to it? 

In the "A Good Enough Step," they write, "Whisper a prayer of gratitude for the best of life right now." What's the best of life right now for you? 

On page 67, they quote Thomas Merton saying, "Gratitude therefore takes nothing for granted, is never unresponsive, is constantly awakening to new wonder and to praise of the goodness of God." How much does gratitude play into contentment? Could focusing on gratitude be the first step for you to getting over the "never __________ enough" stumbling block? 

10 When You Are Exhausted

You'll never guess what just happened. 

I have had a long week full of wonderful, rich, meaningful conversations, which I LOVE! But it has left me exhausted. I feel like I'm almost out of words, which if you know me, you'd never expect to hear me, of all people, say. 

And in the midst of that, some things also happened that left me feeling bruised. 

Bruised and exhausted, I opened up Good Enough because it was time to write another reflection ... and there was the entry title: "When You Are Exhausted." 

And when my eyes landed on the line "And, eventually, something stirs and busies itself within me, doing some kind of mysterious interior repair. I become a little more myself" (p 56), my soul sighed. 

I'm still trying to figure out what the "mysterious interior repair is" exactly and how I might nurture and encourage its work - especially today. (There's probably something in my regula that could help, so that's where I'm starting. For review: check out this and this.) 

But what I think I most appreciate about today's reading is, "But here is the truth. You are in this - this chronic, unfixable condition called life - and yet at the same time, you are precious beyond rubies. You are worth protecting and preserving. You are meant to be intact" (p 58). 

So my work for the day is to figure out what kind of rest I need. 

And before you suggest taking a nap (which is part of the plan!), I've also read that there are different types of rest. I have no idea how scientific this is exactly, but I've experimented with some of these, and it worked for me.  

"I feel alone. The parenting. The endless to-dos. The juggling too much. The spread too thin. O God, I cry out to You from the ends of the earth: Show me again how this works -- how You bring dry bones to life. Help me." (p 59) 

Pastor Allison 

I'm curious 

From page 60: "God built rest into the very architecture of creation. Jesus even took a nap on the bow of a ship in the middle of a storm. 

"If God rests ... and Jesus rests, certainly we can too. ... What brings you rest?" 

9 The Foundation

" ... we are built on a foundation not our own" (p 51). 

Do you ever stop to think about all of the people who contributed to making you you? From your parents to your teachers to your coaches to the authors of the books that have shaped you and the writers of the music that soothes you? 

We are built on a foundation not our own: "With a divine mud pie, God shapes and molds us in God's likeness .... The Master Builder whose carefully poured foundation is what we build on top of now. It certainly feels like a template for the rest of our experience" (p 52). 

Instead of needing to claim our right (as Western American Christians) to be the architect of our own destiny, we can instead rest in the incredible relief and assurance that "Our only job is to build on what we've been given, and, even then, even our gifts we can trace back to the creativity, generosity, and foresight of others" (p 53). 

"If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of giants." - Sir Isaac Newton, letter to Robert Hooke (p 55) 

Pastor Allison 

I'm curious: 

From "A Good Enough Step" on p 55 ... 

Whose foundation are you standing on? (They include a list to get you thinking.) 

Take a minute to whisper a prayer of thanks for your foundation. Or, if you are able, send them a note of gratitude. 

8 When Good Things Become Burdens

Welp, here we are: week 2 and day 8 of 40(ish) days of learning about what a "good enough" life and faith look like. And I suppose it's not an accident that Kate and Jessica return to the place where we started: with a new reflection on the regula we are all hopefully building. 

I'm not sure I've ever considered the idea that good things could become burdens, but the example of Kate's friend Rachel who thought praying could only be authentic if she was on her knees is compelling (pp 45-46). 

Kate and Jessica conclude: "Our ideas become so rigid that they are held up over all other considerations. We adopted them thinking that they could help us live, but our rules can't anticipate every circumstance, or meet every rising need. They just aren't flexible enough, smart enough, or compassionate enough. After all, a rule can't see you, or know you, or respond to you"(p 46). 

When they put it that way, I completely understand! This explains the (biblical and modern-day) Pharisees and Sadducees in a nutshell! 

When they return to the idea of regula, they remind us that "The little habits we create with God's guidance will actually be made to fit us. Fit me. Fit you. The particular you, in this particular moment" (p 47). 

Their discussion about the idea of the yoke (which helps to carry burdens) that is made to fit over the neck of a farm animal in a way that fits only that particular animal reminds me of a sermon I heard at a colleague's ordination service. The preacher talked about how the stole that some pastors wear (like me) around their necks every Sunday is a representation of this same yoke, a reminder of our call to serve others in the way we have been shaped and designed to serve. In a way no one else has been shaped and designed to serve. 

I appreciate their reminder that we are called to create habits that fit us - instead of borrowing someone else's habits - and that "the point of spiritual practice is not simply carry more, try harder, do better. It fits. It's easy. As Jesus says, 'It's light, I swear'" (p 48).

(Also, the footnote at the bottom of the page is a delight!)

"But You say that Your yoke is gentle and easy. And if that is true, may I see these small habit as opening a space for transformation. That instead of building walls around me, You erase the barriers I've built around who You are and how I should respond" (p 49). 

Pastor Allison 

I'm curious: 

Check out the list of "excitedly absurd rules" they include on page 50. 

What are your favorite absurd rules or laws? 

Here's mine, one I need to be particularly aware of: It's illegal to wear a fake mustache in an Alabama Church. (Someone please tell me the story of how this law became necessary!! And if you don't know, please make up a story and drop it in the comments!!!)  

Read more absurd laws from around the world here!