The Symptom
This article is not a five step process to achieving balance. There are no steps. What this is is an opportunity.
Consider this quote:
“Far too easily we settle for holiness rather than wholeness, conformity rather than authenticity, becoming spiritual rather than deeply human, fulfillment rather than transformation, and a journey toward perfection rather than union with God. Far too often we confuse our own spiritual self-improvement tinkerings with the much more radical agenda of the Spirit of God. The call of the Spirit — which is always gentle and therefore easily missed — is an invitation to abandon our self-improvement projects that are, in reality, little more than polishing our false self and become the unique hidden self in Christ that we have been from all eternity. The call of the Spirit is always a call to return home, to settle for no other habitation or identity than that of being in Christ and knowing the reality of Christ in us.”
Toughest People to Love: How to Understand, Lead, and Love the Difficult People in Your Life — Including Yourself
What might it mean then to experience spirituality, not as something that you do, but something you are?
In a culture that is thrilled to label, categorize, tell me what I want, when I want it, and how quickly I can get it, it is easy to be lulled into a sense of “okayness” about my life. Like Collin’s statement of “settling for good enough”. But when I listen to the question again, what might it mean for me to experience spirituality through “being”, a deeply embedded, pre-wired longing in my soul stirs me to a new awareness, for more.
There is more to life than categories. Why? Because you and I are not machines.We were not made for categories. We were made for wholeness. The roles, or categories that we live in–mother, father, spouse, friend, child–are the instrumentals in the harmony of my being, first as a human being made in the image of God.
The problem is, though we might agree in our heads (perhaps we even like the sound of it in our ears), it often doesn’t show up in our behavior.
- As a parent, we can be so consumed in our children’s lives that we don’t know how or when to let go, unknowingly enslaving ourselves, and our kids. We may rescue or enable kids that either can’t function on their own (failure to launch syndrome), or rebel in extreme independence that is far more damaging (running away, drugs, alcohol, promiscuity).
- As a friend, my identity may be entirely in who is, or isn’t, my friend today. In a culture where social media plays it’s own part in building or destroying relationships, this need to be “liked” is precarious, at best.
- As a student, my need for affirmation may be grounded in my academic success. Also, if I write well, then I’m seen as smart or intellectual. If I make all A’s, then I’m okay. This is where perfectionism takes root with potential to grow rapidly.
- As a Christian, I may attend church on Sunday, or if I can make it. I generally consider myself being a Christian when I do those “religious” things, but sometimes I may forget–but that’s ok, Jesus loves me. I may judge others about their forgetting, or lack of religious fervor. I might look for the easy spiritual answers about God and faith–the shorter the devotion the better so I can understand it quickly.
And there probably are many of us who may be functioning in all of these roles or categories, without any of them ever intersecting.
The Real Problem
So what does this have to do with my spirituality? Everything.
I, and I venture to say many of us, are products of a cultural Silo Effect. Not only does our culture silo us, but we silo ourselves, usually based on our proficiencies, needs, and the perceptions of what we think others want/need/expect.
At any given moment in my day, I can do all the things I need to as a Mom, a writer, a friend, a pastor, a sister, without ever considering where I am in all of that. Under the guise of “multi-tasking”, I had found identity in doing.
Despite the gentle prodding of my spiritual director, who for two years gracefully and lovingly reminded me to be, I was determined to make it all work, by doing everything right. It was all working according to plan.
Until January 2015. One of my categories that I had kept so in order, and all ready, was flung off the table of my life.
Though I couldn’t deny God’s presence in the middle of the storm, everything I had worked for, sweated for, in many ways, bled for, was for now being filed under “F” for “FAILURE–sure, they had said, “Try again.” I had heard, “You failure.”
Basically, one of my big categories (the agenda to be a United Methodist Pastor) was essentially breaking down both in my reality, and stranger even, in my own heart. What I could not figure out in the midst of all of this was how clearly I had experienced God’s presence that day.
This was not just a normal run of the mill failure; this seemed different. I was able to sense (I call it grace) that God was doing something to me. And I could choose to go along with it, or not. It was all by invitation, not demand.
So in effect, I just let go, and fell smack dab in the middle of a spiritual awakening/crisis/breakdown (you pick the word).
The only thing I did do was decide to not write the paperwork required for ordination in the UMC. Granted, I was just hitting pause, but for me, this was a huge step. The UMC is chock full of great people, doing amazing ministry. I just was beginning something else.
Richard Rohr wrote, “Often it takes outer authority to send us on the path toward our own inner authority.” I guess I was taking the opportunity given, and not doing anything seemed to be the best way to begin, whatever it was I was beginning.
When Real Life and Real Faith Intersect 