Month: November 2022

Every year at the beginning of November, I am confronted with the passing of time, the reality of aging, and the importance of living with intention. Last year, I was also confronted by the shadows that still existed inside me. In a group of people I am so blessed to now call friends, I was faced with the choice to dive in or run away. Choosing to take the leap made the difference of a lifetime. 

I was up before the sun this morning to drive to work in a different town. Along the way, I read some (or had read to me, at least), I prayed a lot, I considered many things… and as I watched the sky lighten, the reality of how dark it can get just before dawn hit differently. 

There have been several days in the last month when darkness made a move to take over. The voice of shame spoke so loudly that I could not seem to quiet it… and the balance I have worked so hard to attain felt somewhat tenuous. Most recently, as I approached a meeting yesterday, I was struggling to breathe. Panic set in as I sat in the parking lot, deciding whether or not to run… 

I didn’t run… I do my best not to anymore. I went in scared. And God was there.

As I drove back and forth across the state today, I was grateful. Having spent the day connecting with God, with friends, with myself… I’m ready for another year. Not because it will be easy. More because the abundant blessings and sacred companions far outweigh the difficulties.

I’m thankful for you all. 
You bring the dawn.

I love you.
💜💜💜

I’ve been a bit blocked since getting home. For over a month, I have been working through issues surrounding shifts in the interpersonal relationships closest to my heart. The grief that comes with those changes has been complicated. I wish I could say it’s getting more straightforward, and that’s why I am writing again… But the reality is that I am writing with the aim of working out what it looks like to incorporate this grief into the continuation of life. I’m writing because not writing is letting the grief win.

It’s a complex thing to lose someone without losing them, an ambiguous loss that is difficult to assimilate. I can only pray that in time the fog will clear and hope that restoration might be possible. 

In the meantime, there has been much confirmation of God’s guidance since returning. I am thankful that he keeps opening doors and fostering conversations. 

Today held the opportunity to attend a workshop presented by the district. While there has been much going on in my life since the conference that I worked with this past spring, this was the first direct contact I have had with the topic of human sexuality. Stepping into this space again with the lens of the shame language that I’ve been processing since returning from Africa was like walking into a whole different world. 

There is so much shame that circles whenever we talk (or don’t talk) about sex in the church. It’s an often unconsciously automatic response… and it is heartbreaking to see how we have allowed this shame to put relationships and interactions into boxes, defining them as right or wrong based on a reactive response to the culture instead of allowing the nuanced conversations that it takes to be fully alive and truly loving to our fellow humans.

I’m tired tonight. Somehow the experience today, while educational, seems to have drained my reserves of self-compassion. Between the heightened awareness of my lack of community here and the weight of the subject today, I think I just ran out. And it feels like I’m not the only one aware of it. The battle is real.

Be kind to yourselves.
I love you, friends…
💜💜💜