Reset

March 2020 is a strange time. There isn’t a person reading this who wouldn’t agree. Usually bustling cities have become ghost towns, there’s a run on toilet paper, and seeing people walk around with masks on has become an every day occurrence.

It’s strange to see how quickly we’ve gotten a new normal. A new normal which probably should have happened sooner.

I, along with a lot of people, went into 2020 with wide bright eyes ready to take on the new year. 2019 was uneventful and a little difficult for me at times, but it ended on such high notes. I’d gotten a promotion at work in the fall, new friendships were quickly becoming more important to me each day, I’d signed a contract for my debut novel (a full post about how it happened coming soon)… there were moments in December all of the good in my life would catch me off guard and I’d have to take a step back to absorb it all.

Wanting to keep up the momentum and make positive changes in my life, I got a fancy planner where I could evaluate what I needed to work on and the goals I would set to make my vision happen. I chose a word of the year (which I’ve never done). Things were prepared, lists made, and goals set. 2020 was going to be THE YEAR.

Flash forward four months later.

So many things are different now. I’ve tried time and time again to write this post, but each time I sit down to type it out I lose motivation and something has changed. Just last week when I first created this draft my life hadn’t been much different. I had my job, I was able to see friends (even if it was just virtual happy hours), and I was doing weekly essentials runs. I kept my hand sanitizer at the desk and was washing my hands frequently. I was scared and worried for the world, but also hopeful.

This week it’s a new picture. The stay at home order in Illinois has been extended until the end of April. (To be honest, I have a hunch it’ll go even longer.) More guests at the hotel have come down the the virus. I have a small collection of face masks and latex free gloves. The mask I’m wearing now was made by a friends mom and is purple with turtles on it. I’m at work - but I don’t know for how long. I know I’ll be at work for the next couple of days but beyond that it’s in the air. A million tabs are open as I’m trying to figure out unemployment details and how it actually works. Lists are made on my phone of what companies to call about bills and what my options are. In the background I have my church’s live stream of their Good Friday service quietly playing so I can still get my work done without getting too distracted.

I’m stressed and tired and debate back and forth if I want to stay home or if I should just keep going day by day to see what hours I’m given.

My word of the year for 2020 was “Embrace.” Now more than ever, it’s more difficult to keep a the forefront of my mind. How am I supposed to embrace COVID19? Embrace the uncertainty of my job? Embrace the world being sick? Embrace not seeing the people I care about? Even with it being Holy Week and looking forward to Easter, I’m having trouble finding the hope and celebration Sunday is supposed to bring with it.

I want it gone! Put my life back to normal!

In my planner which had such high goals set at this time has lay outs for a goal refresh. The makers fully understood that life changes through the year, and what was a priority January 1 may not be a priority April 1.

I couldn’t help but be grateful to have the time to sit and reevaluate what I wanted my life to look like. What perfect timing.

It’s time for a reset.

What was odd though, was that most of my important big picture goals didn’t change much. How I went about them may change, but the goals themselves did not. Some of them became even more important.

Celebrating and growing the relationships closest to me.

Starting my author career on the right foot.

Consuming and creating art that I love and is just for me - not for profit or for anyone else.

Preparing and taking care of my body for whatever comes.

Stewarding the gifts I’ve been given well.

Even when we have a stay at home order, these things are still important. I may not be able to make plans to go out with my friends and family once a week as I originally planned - but I have been using Facetime much more often and being sure I send cards and set up virtual happy hours with people.

I should be hearing back from my editor soon on what needs to be done on my novel so I can get it all polished and cleaned up. It couldn’t have come at a more opportune time.

I’m reading even more books and getting through some that have been sitting on my shelves and kindle for years. Favorite TV shows and movies are constantly playing on my TV. Musicians are still releasing new music. I even did a 1000 piece puzzle in my downtime.

Oddly enough, or maybe not, I’ve been taking care of my body much better than I had in the past. There’s all the hand washing and such we’re all doing of course. But I’m also exercising and trying to drink more water.

Then as I have to count my pennies not knowing how many hours I’ll have a work, I have no other choice but to be sure I’m making wise choices.

I’m not going to embrace COVID19, worry, stress, or the temptation to leave the house. But I can work on embracing all of these other things. Video calls, checking in on people, taking care of myself, and preparing for whatever could come next. Or at least accepting that I can’t control what will happen.

There are no promises on my end of how well I’ll do these things. But I can remind myself to embrace this reset of life. Take the time to really see what’s important and push aside the little worries that really didn’t matter. Accept that right now, finding a pair of latex free gloves that actually fit and some hand sanitizers buried in the bottom of a drawer are what’s going to make me smile these days.

I can embrace and accept that this is a stressful and frightening time. There’s nothing wrong with acknowledging these facts.

And I hope this too shall pass.

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Silence

I can't remember the last time I actively prayed.

There. I said it. It's been something I feel I've had to say out loud for some time, but never had the courage to. Or, perhaps in this case, write it out loud.

Maybe here and there I have the frantic "God, the salt trucks haven't made it out to this highway yet so you better be sure I make it to my destination through these icy roads in one piece" prayer. But.. what Chicagoan hasn't?

Outside of the few church services I make it to these days, I never find myself praying. Even when I do find a rare Sunday morning when I don't have to work and I make it to worship, more often than not my eyes start to glaze over and my mind wanders during public prayers.

Yet, this started to happen long before my current work schedule came into place. I remember when I worked in the church, most Sunday mornings I glossed over the words of the liturgy. The prayers I led for the youth group became trite and compact. I knew the right words to say for the situation and that was that and then it was time to move onto the next thing on the agenda.

There was a time when this wasn't the case. Not to say I've ever had the most active "prayer life" as some would say. For years I attempted to have daily quiet times to myself to read and meditate. If my mind wandered as I drove my car I tried to move my focus into conversation with Jesus. When I was alone in my dorm room I took a stab at saying impromptu prayers out loud. None of these things stuck with me. At least I tried.

In fact, there were distinct moments I even remember hearing God. Maybe not an actual physical voice, but at least three times I heard God talking back.

Once, it was during a Bible study. I remember looking over at the guy I was currently pinning over. (And let's be real - the entirety of my non-existent love life has been me pointlessly pinning over some dude.) The word "wait" popped into my mind. I needed to wait. I can honestly say I did wait, and I still am. For who or what - I have no idea. But I know God still has me in this "waiting" stage.

Another time, it was over a period of several weeks when verses from the book of 1 John kept on appearing in my life. In chapel, in class, conversations with friends, etc. Over and over again I was being reminded of how I needed to love people. While, yes, it was everyone's calling to love one another. It was a specific calling to me and my life, and it was what God wanted me to do. I'm not sure how well I succeed in this, and I view it slightly differently now than I did back then. But, it's something I have taken to heart. Enough to even have the phrase from Les Miserables tattooed upon my arm "To love another person is to see the face of God."

A third, was when I sat at the church where I worship now, years ago, and I looked across the aisle to a friend of mine and the words "This is your church family" popped into my mind. It was strange, because this friend and I weren't necessarily all that close yet. We had the same circles of friends and spent time together, but we weren't quite friends with each other yet. Now, almost a decade later, I do see her as my church family. She's the one I seek out each Sunday morning and we sit in our little section. She's the one I go out to lunch with when worship is done. We talk and text through the week and miss one another when the other can't make it on Sunday morning.

So, I know there is communication with God, and he speaks to us sometimes.

Now, there is silence.

Part of me wants to say God and I have been giving each other the cold shoulder, but I don't think that's quite it. It's not like he and I had a big disagreement and decided to stop talking over a grudge.

It's more like two friends who have lost touch. Not because neither one cared. But because someone moved away, or started a new job, or began a relationship. You keep meaning to have that Skype call or that coffee date... but it never happens. Yet, you know the other one is still there, ready with open arms whenever you do have time.

Maybe that's a bad way of looking at a relationship with God... but there it is.

I know my salvation isn't based on how often I pray and go to church - so please save the Lutheran lecture of "by grace alone..."

I've been reading a lot of Lauren F Winners this year, and in her book Girl Meets God, this is the part of the relationship she would describe as "brushing your teeth next to each other." You're no longer fascinated with each other and every little move you make, finding everything exciting and new. It's that time when you go through your routine, and brush your teeth next to each other. We know all of each others stories (or think we do) so the day is filled with silence. You're both there, but it's not quite the same. Not good or bad, But there it is.

One of my closest friends is in the stage of her faith where she's falling in love with God. I hear her talking about how she's reading the Bible in a year for the first time, all of the things she's learning, what she's praying and thinking about, sharing with me the worship songs which have touched her heart. I love hearing her talk about these things, and it makes me miss the openness and wonder I used to have.

As I read Girl Meets God a couple of months ago, I came across this:

"I am not sure that I have the passion to fall in love with a religion again. How to fall in love is not, now, what I need to learn. What I need to learn, maybe what God wants me to learn, is the long grind after you've landed." 

As much as part of me wants to be back in that passionate love again, I read this quote and feel a resounding "yes... that is me."

Then, in the book written by her which I'm reading now, Still, she expresses how she had stopped praying as well.

"I can paint my walls with slogans about staying faithful to the spiritual disciplines, about formation and habits to carry you through, about how wonderful it is that we Episcopalians have this great incomparable liturgy that keeps us tethered to prayer when our own heart's awandering, but the simple truth is that when you don't know what you believe and you don't know where you are or you think you've been deluded or abandoned or you've glutted yourself with busyness and you are hiding from yourself or the day has just been too long - if that is who and how you are, prayer sounds like a barefoot hike from Asheville to Paris; it would be nice if you got there, you are sure there is a nice glass of wine and a nice slice of brie waiting for you at some cafe somewhere, but there is really no way you can imagine actually making the walk."

When I read the words of her books, I can imagine she and I being friends sitting down side by side, sharing our experiences and thoughts on faith. Neither of us truly having any answers or ways out of the rut we're in. But nodding our heads in agreement saying "yes, I know what you're talking about."

There's a certain camaraderie in simply understanding the questions and knowing someone else has gone through the same thing, even if they can't answer the questions. It is it's own special sort of comfort.

I'm not sure the purpose of writing all of this is. I think, I read about someone with whom I could relate when it came to this topic, and I wanted to share that "hey... this is me." Maybe someone else will be able to say the same thing.

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What I Miss

Another Lent and Easter has come and gone. Growing up old school Lutheran, the church seasons have always been one of the ways I mark passing time. We start with Advent, then Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, and now we're in Easter. 

I went with my mom, sister, and her mother-in-law to the church where I grew up. If I remember correctly, the last time I had gone to a service there was last Easter, since I was working during Christmas. I still go to church, but at another location. 

As I sat in the pew and sang the old familiar hymns, I couldn't help but wonder when the last time I was genuinely joyful to be at a service. I could't remember.

In fact, I can't even remember the last time I legitimately prayed. Not just praying with the congregation on Sunday morning or with my family over meals. Really sat down and had a conversation with God.

If I'm being brutally honest, I think it was back when I lived in Missouri. I moved away from there going on three years ago.

Even when I worked in the church, I could see it happening to me. My personal Bible reading was becoming less frequent. My prayers were shorter. The songs I sang were half hearted. The years after I graduated college, something began to change in me.

Don't misunderstand me. It's not a crisis of faith- per say. I still believe. In fact, in ways I believe in Jesus, grace, faith, scripture, forgiveness, etc. more than I used to. I also don't want you to take this as me not loving the church congregation I'm a part of. I do. It's a wonderful place, I love going, and I love the people there. It's what I need right now.

But praying? Having joy in worship? Reading my Bible just because? It's just not there, and I don't know why. 

And I miss it. But I also don't.

I don't miss the guilt I used to have about worrying if I hadn't prayed or read my Bible enough. I don't miss feeling like I had to be sitting in the church building every single Sunday or else I'd be a bad Christian. I don't miss feeling the obligation to run around everywhere yelling about Jesus and how much he loves you and wants you to convert and be baptized RIGHT NOW. I don't miss telling teenagers what I felt the synod wanted me to tell them.

I do miss the joy though. I miss going to a service and not critiquing everything I see or hear. I miss the curiosity I had about scripture and wanting to dig in more and more and learn all that I could. I miss wanting to go to a Bible study or small group to talk about faith with my friends. I miss the days when I could pray saying "Papa God" and not feeling like an idiot for saying it. I miss when I could journal for pages and pages on my thoughts on a certain verse. 

I know my faith isn't dependent on how I'm feeling, or how much I pray, or how much I read. Thank God!

I also like how my views have grown and changed and matured. I'm glad I'm not the girl I was back in high school and college. 

But I do miss the joy.