Today was a difficult day, and I am sitting here now with tears gently streaming down my cheeks....feeling simply wounded and hurt. These are just slight bruises, which I have felt many times before, and I'll recover surely. I always do. I am resilient.
But in moments like these, when I am tender and weary, the question arises- to whom can I turn? When trust has been broken, it is great protection to close a door and lock myself into a quiet place. I turn, wailing in prayer, knowing that even this need for solitude and healing is one that I must protect. I experience comfort in ritual, in silence; I am able to regain my center and remember who I am.
The truth is there are very few people I can be completely vulnerable in front of....and yet, in order to grow, I have to also reveal my scars, my wounds, my broken soul. The ones I have come to trust are dearer than dear to me, and my heart is full of their loving presence when they cannot be here in person.
Over the summer I was able to prepare and share a sermon about personal despair, which is often compounded by despair for the world. In preparing the sermon, I began to read Proverbs of Ashes by Rebecca Parker and Rita Nakashima Brock. Both authors throughout share personal stories that allow themselves to be vulnerable and exposed. Early on in the book, I learned of Rebecca's multiple suicide attempts. Previously I had known of Rev. Rebecca Parker as the head of Starr King School of the Ministry; I had known her as a woman whose poetry I loved, whose example I admired, whose scholarship and leadership inspired me. After reading about her experiences of personal despair, I knew her in a different way-- as a friend. I was so grateful for the personal struggles she shared, and I felt deeply in my heart that my own struggles with my demons- my doubts and struggles with self-worth- do not make me less than whole.
There is still a lot I don't know, a lot that feels unclear. But there are spiritual practices, and there are also relationships to get me through. I am counting the days until I am at Silver Bay this week... there is a new safe and healing space that has formed with the cohorts I am coming to know and trust. And for now, in the quiet of this space, I hang in there... I offer lovingkindness to myself...I pray.
But in moments like these, when I am tender and weary, the question arises- to whom can I turn? When trust has been broken, it is great protection to close a door and lock myself into a quiet place. I turn, wailing in prayer, knowing that even this need for solitude and healing is one that I must protect. I experience comfort in ritual, in silence; I am able to regain my center and remember who I am.
The truth is there are very few people I can be completely vulnerable in front of....and yet, in order to grow, I have to also reveal my scars, my wounds, my broken soul. The ones I have come to trust are dearer than dear to me, and my heart is full of their loving presence when they cannot be here in person.
Over the summer I was able to prepare and share a sermon about personal despair, which is often compounded by despair for the world. In preparing the sermon, I began to read Proverbs of Ashes by Rebecca Parker and Rita Nakashima Brock. Both authors throughout share personal stories that allow themselves to be vulnerable and exposed. Early on in the book, I learned of Rebecca's multiple suicide attempts. Previously I had known of Rev. Rebecca Parker as the head of Starr King School of the Ministry; I had known her as a woman whose poetry I loved, whose example I admired, whose scholarship and leadership inspired me. After reading about her experiences of personal despair, I knew her in a different way-- as a friend. I was so grateful for the personal struggles she shared, and I felt deeply in my heart that my own struggles with my demons- my doubts and struggles with self-worth- do not make me less than whole.
There is still a lot I don't know, a lot that feels unclear. But there are spiritual practices, and there are also relationships to get me through. I am counting the days until I am at Silver Bay this week... there is a new safe and healing space that has formed with the cohorts I am coming to know and trust. And for now, in the quiet of this space, I hang in there... I offer lovingkindness to myself...I pray.
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