When is the last time you felt alive? When is the last time you felt inspired?
For me, meeting new people with wisdom is always enlivens me (even if I meet these new people through books)!
So today, I want to tell you about a book of wisdom that I've come back to again and again: Awareness: the Perils and Opportunities of Reality by Anthony De Mello. I loved it from the first words when De Mello says:
“My business is to do my thing, to dance my dance. If you profit from it, fine; if you don’t too bad! As the Arabs say, ‘The nature of rain is the same, but it makes thorns grow in the marshes and flowers in the gardens.'”
My eyes stopped here because how often are we all guilty of moving in the direction of someone else’s life path and not our own. We get bound by cultural blueprint of acceptability rather than what might be our new course to blaze. We get bound by ego. We get bound by how our choices will hurt somebody else.
But, when we do this, DeMello writes we aren’t awake to our own lives. We're sleepwalking.
Maybe I'm thinking about DeMello again because I'm at unique juncture in my professional and vocational life. I'm in the process of moving.
And, I've learned all over again that "dancing" for me is preaching, leading others, and communicating about deeper stirrings of soul through writing. So whatever I do in the future, I must do all of these things.
The picture in this post was taken at one such moment. I felt alive and so grateful to be leading with words of blessing for a gathered community. I was in the "zone" as they say.
But, in mid-June, I'll be full-time to a familiar city but without a job yet. And while so many people have an opinion about what I should be doing or what kinds of BIG jobs I should have (oh, this big pulpit is open, oh, I know you could work there, etc)-- the calling of God, I believe is to stay close to the dance that is mine to dance alone. What others people think I should be doing is simply rubbish!
It's that deep sense of knowing that will guide me, and the encouragement of those who know my heart the best.
DeMello says that when begin to make choices out of that quiet place within, we'll dance! And our dancing will be like rain on the parched ground for some whohave forgotten what joy looks like. Seeing us dance might remind them how to dance again too right where they are.
DeMello warns that others who are walking in the dark (and very much liking the way things are) will look at our dancing and point their fingers in exclamation of our insanity. "Stop living this way! Stop being so happy! You can’t live like this. You’re exposing our anxiety and loneliness. You’re exposing our fear."
They’ll say these things because they are jealous of our freedom. They’ll wish they could cut loose too. They haven’t yet learned to dance.
But no matter what, De Mello says, our invitation to dance is prepared.
A friend recently asked me how I felt about leaving Oklahoma soon. This is what I said: "I am breathless with gratitude."
I think it surprised her that I didn't give a simple: "I'm happy" or "I'm sad" about it answer. I think she even would have been satisfied with a "Change is hard" statement from me or something like "I'm excited about the future."
But I said none of these things. Not even close to "I'm jumping for joy. Thank God I'm getting out of here" (as I would have said 2 years ago).
No simply: "I am breathless with gratitude."
For when the day comes that our packed car pulls heads back East for new adventures, I won't be leaving this state wiping the dust off my feet as I once thought I would. I won't be leaving with a face of disgust. Nor, will I be leaving with all the pain of these 3 years (and it's been a lot!) at the forefront of my mind.
No, I'll be leaving saying, "I am breathless with gratitude." And my little NF heart just might burst as I do. (By NF I'm referring to Myers Brigg language). There's much to be grateful for!
I'll be leaving this way because faces like this:
And this:
And this:
And these as well:
And countless others I'd still like to get photos with!
These faces have been love to me. They've seen me for who I really am-- flaws and all in a state where I felt unseen for so long. And they've affirmed me as their pastor, their friend and their fellow traveler on the journey of life in Oklahoma.
Recently I told them this in a newsletter.
When I think of what it means to live into our calling as Easter people, the one word that comes to mind is “surprise!” Because when you think about it, the resurrection, as the first disciples experienced it, was most certainly a surprise. Resurrection was shocking, overwhelming and most certainly not what they expected. But yet, when they learned the great news, it was their job to live into it. They were charged to go and tell what they saw!
As for me, in looking back on the short but oh so meaningful time that I’ve spent with you, The Federated Church, surprise is the one of the best words I have for describing it.
From the first time I learned about you, I was surprised to learn that a church like Federated existed in Western Oklahoma. I was surprised that you wanted me to be your interim pastor. I was surprised at how much I enjoyed preaching every Sunday again. I was surprised at how flexible you are. I was surprised how quickly I grew to love you all so deeply. I was surprised to tell a friend recently that “The Federated Church has changed me. I know now that I can’t not pastor when I go back to Virginia.”
Isn't this God’s Spirit at work? If we believe that God’s mercies are indeed new every morning, then, surprise is what we’re all about! And it’s not just for pastors, but it’s for EVERYONE.
As you and I enter our next chapters, my prayer for you is one of continual surprises! The best is yet to be for both of us. All my love to you, Elizabeth
I talk a lot about being "Easter people" because I just love the metaphor of Good Friday/ Holy Saturday and Easter Sunday a paradigm of how we move through our lives. And as for our time in Oklahoma, we've experienced all of these movements.
So here's my word-
Oklahoma, you've given us one hell of some Good Fridays! But you've also given us some glorious Easter Sundays! And with breathless gratitude, I say thank you. For all Kevin and I have endured. For all we've seen and experienced. For all those who have loved me into becoming authentically present here, I say thank you.
Because of the community of Christ, I am no longer in the ashes and for this I can't help but be breathless with so much gratitude!
