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Do the Next Thing

Jul 2, 2018 | Hope & Encouragement, Sacred Stories, Sovereignty

I don’t know about you, but when I read or hear the stories of amazing women (which is ALL the time), I have the tendency to compare myself to them. And that never goes well.

I convince myself that I will not be one about whom amazing stories are told. Because I’m not her. I’m just me.

Every bit of this is totally wrong.

Here’s a story to prove my point:

Queen Esther. Ostensibly sex-trafficked as a young girl, she is corralled into the king’s palace, lives with the eunuchs, and is then trained for a full year to be able and ready to please the king (sexually, of course) if called. She lives as a potential consort right alongside all the other girls of her town and every surrounding town, right alongside all the king’s previous and current wives. And under the dark cloud of awareness that the last queen, who dared to say “no” to this same king, was deposed and discarded.

In the midst of all this, she becomes the chosen one, is named the king’s favorite, is heralded as Queen, and then uncovers a massive plot to destroy her entire people – the Jews. She manages to merit the king’s favor, trick the villain (not the king), usurp his wicked plans, and save thousands of people from genocide. And now, thousands of years later, she is still honored, her amazing story still told, still celebrated through the Feast of Purim, a festival within the Jewish tradition that honors the redemption she ushered into the world.

Who am I to think that my story could possibly be anything like hers?

And in truth, isn’t it just pouring salt on a wound to hear it in the first place and then be left feeling like there is SO MUCH to live up to? It’s impossible. I don’t begin to compare. Why bother even trying?

Again, every bit of this is totally wrong.

Here’s why.

Esther lived her life one day at a time. She faced the (often horrific) circumstances of her life in the best way she could in the moment. She took in distressing news and then acted as best she knew how in the moment. She risked but not always. She spoke up but not always. She stepped forward but not always. And when all was said and done – over years of time (not days, as the story so often sounds) – she became legend.

She could not possibly have seen the huge and sweeping plot that was taking place around her. She could not have seen the bigger narrative of which her seemingly-small life was a part. And she could not have seen how significant her life and story truly were.

Take heart, dear one; the same is true for you (and me).

Here is all that’s required:

  • Do the next thing.
  • Face your circumstances in the best way you can in the moment.
  • Take in distressing and dangerous news, then act in the moment.
  • Risk and speak up and step forward as often as you can, even if not always.

And consider this:

Maybe, definitely, it is best that you can’t see just how and important and significant your life truly is.

Just like Queen Esther. (Yes, you: just like her. Amazing!)

The most famous and well-known portion of her story is what her uncle Mordecai says when she expresses her fear: 

Don’t think for a moment that because you’re in the palace you will escape when all other Jews are killed. If you keep quiet at a time like this, deliverance and relief for the Jews will arise from some other place, but you and your relatives will die. Who knows if perhaps you were made queen for just such a time as this?

Yes, hugely significant and dramatic. I’ll give you (and her) that. But here is what matters:

“For such a time as this” meant (and still means) one moment at a time, one conversation at a time, one choice at a time, one risk at a time, one day at a time.

Nothing more. And certainly nothing less.

Yes, be the queen. I’m all about that. Kick ass and take names and speak up and be bold. And know that the things that seem minor and insignificant and seemingly just the opposite of the amazing stories you read and hear are the stuff of “for such a time as this,” are the stuff of legend. Paying the bills and having yet another conversation with your kids and telling your spouse or lover how you really feel and not pouring another glass of wine and not allowing fear to distract you from the writing that calls, or telling the truth, and all of the above and then some.

These are the details of your life – which matters, which makes a difference, and, when all is said and done, is legendary.

Because you are. You just don’t know it yet.

May it be so.

Not seeing the forest for the trees (yet)

Jul 5, 2016 | Sacred Stories, Women's Voice & Power

I don’t know about you, but when I read or hear the stories of amazing women (which is ALL the time), I have the tendency to compare myself to them. And that never goes well.

I convince myself that I will not be one about whom amazing stories are told. Because I’m not her. I’m just me.

And every bit of this is totally wrong.

Here’s a story to prove my point:

Queen Esther. Ostensibly sex-trafficked as a young girl, she is corralled into the king’s palace, lives with the eunuchs, and is then trained for a full year to be able and ready to please the king (sexually, of course) if called. She lives as a potential consort right alongside all the other girls of her town and every surrounding town, right alongside all the king’s previous and current wives. And all under the dark cloud of awareness that the last queen, who dared to say “no” to this same king, was deposed and discarded. In the midst of all this, she becomes the chosen one, is named the king’s favorite, is heralded as Queen, and then uncovers a massive plot to destroy her entire people – the Jews. She manages to merit the king’s favor, trick the villain (who was not the king himself), usurp his wicked plans, and save thousands of people from genocide. And now, thousands of years later, she is still honored, her amazing story still told, still celebrated through the Feast of Purim, a festival within the Jewish tradition that honors the redemption she ushered into the world.

Who am I to think that my story could possibly be anything like hers?

And in truth, isn’t it just pouring salt on a wound to hear it in the first place and then be left feeling like there is SO MUCH to live up to? It’s impossible. I don’t begin to compare. Why bother even trying?

Again, every bit of this is totally wrong.

Here’s why.

Esther lived her life one day at a time. She faced the (often horrific) circumstances of her life in the best way she could in the moment. She took in distressing news and then acted as best she knew how in the moment.

She risked but not always. She spoke up but not always. She stepped forward but not always.

And when all was said and done – over years of time (not days, as the story so often sounds) – she became legend.

She could not possibly have seen the forest for the trees. She could not have seen the huge and sweeping plot that was taking place around her. She could not have seen the bigger narrative of which her seemingly-small life was a part. And she could not have seen how significant her life and story truly were.

Take heart, dear one; the same is true for you (and me).

Here is all that’s required:

  • Do the next thing.
  • Face your circumstances in the best way you can in the moment.
  • Take in distressing and dangerous news, then act in the moment.
  • Risk and speak up and step forward as often as you can, even if not always.

And consider this:

Maybe, definitely, it is best that you can’t see just how and important and significant your life truly is.

Just like Queen Esther. (Yes, you: just like her. Amazing!)

The most famous and well-known portion of her story is what her uncle Mordecai says
when she expresses her fear:

Don’t think for a moment that because you’re in the palace you will escape when all other Jews are killed. If you keep quiet at a time like this, deliverance and relief for the Jews will arise from some other place, but you and your relatives will die. Who knows if perhaps you were made queen for just such a time as this?

Yes, hugely significant and dramatic. I’ll give you (and her) that. But here is what matters:

“For such a time as this” meant (and still means) one moment at a time, one conversation at a time, one choice at a time, one risk at a time, one day at a time. Nothing more. And certainly nothing less.

Yes, be the queen. I’m all about that. Kick ass and take names and speak up and be bold. And know that the things that seem minor and insignificant and seemingly just the opposite of the amazing stories you read and hear are the stuff of “for such a time as this,” are the stuff of legend.

Paying the bills and having yet another conversation with your kids and telling your spouse or lover how you really feel and not pouring another glass of wine and not allowing fear to distract you from the writing that calls, or telling the truth, and all of the above and then some.

These are the details of your life – which matter, which make a difference, and, when all is said and done, are legendary. Because you are. You just don’t know it yet.

May it be so.

Orlando: 2 words that matter

Jun 13, 2016 | Sacred Stories, Women's Voice & Power

Yesterday morning my daughter told me about the mass-shooting in Orlando. I had no words other than “I’m so sorry” and “It’s so, so sad.” Now, with more time to think about it, I DO have more words – two of them. But first, a story:

Once upon a time there was a king who reigned over 127 provinces that stretched from India to Ethiopia. He decided to have a banquet. He invited all the nobles, offcials, military officers, and princes from each province to a celebration that lasted 180 days which, as the text tells us, was a “tremendous display of the opulent wealth of his empire and the pomp and splendor of his majesty.” On the 7th day of the feast, when he was drunk with wine, he sent for his wife, the queen, commanding that she come before him, adorned with her crown, so that all of the men could “gaze on her beauty, for she was a very beautiful woman.”

Queen Vashti said NO. This, as you might imagine, set off a chain of events that had all kinds of ramifications; suffice it to say, she was deposed, kicked out of the castle, and devoid of all rights and privileges. One single word spoken that changed her entire world.

There is so much more about her that I’d love for you to know, that I’d love to tell, but this is what matters today: Queen Vashti said NO. She knew what was being asked of her was wrong. She chose fierceness over fear. She rose up and stared down every single risk, consequence, and cost. She said NO because it was the only right thing to say.

And because we are her daughters, her lineage, her kin, we must say NO, as well.

The NO that rose up in her that day is the same NO that rises up in each of us when we read of the mass-shooting in Orlando.

NO is the only acceptable response. NO is the just response. NO is what must be spoken to this kind of violence, to the sale of assault weapons, to evil and darkness, to the harm and death of human beings who are just. like. us. NO means there is nothing to discuss, nothing to argue over, nothing to think about, nothing more to consider.  NO is the only word to speak. No matter the risk, consequence, or cost. We say NO because it is the only right thing to say in the face of such tragedy, such death, such darkness.

And in the midst of our fierce and fearless NO, we also say YES.

YES to compassion. YES to human dignity. YES to generous care. YES to candle-light vigils. YES to political reform. YES to every person who needs and deserves safety. YES to sanity. YES to change. YES to each other. YES to reform. YES to endless hope. And YES to love and love and love that endures
no matter what.

A single word, spoken definitively, has the power to change the world.

 

May it be so.

For such a time as this.

Apr 8, 2014 | Sacred Stories, Sovereignty, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom

Sometimes if not oftentimes, the circumstances in which you find yourself are the last ones you want. You look around and wonder how you got here. You look back and see a few crumbs that help make sense of your current reality, but when you look ahead in the hopes of spotting a guiding light on the horizon, there is nothing. You swirl in a messy, oft’ painful, no-matter-which-way-you-turn-it-sucks reality.

You want something to shift so dramatically that all the pain, all the frustration, all the darkness, all the fear just evaporates. And you want all of this to happen exclusive of you having to step in and make it happen. *sigh* I say “you,” but believe me, I know this all-too-well.

I feel a sense of helplessness, the lump in my throat, the tears that brim and threaten to spill. I want relief, answers, clarity. And none seems forthcoming. In this place, it is easy to feel immobilized; no action feeling better, somehow, than having to step forward. I stay stuck. I wait. I hope. I might even pray. But despite it all…

…it appears that the only person who can bring about the needed change is me. At the end of the day, the work is mine. The steps are mine to take. The decisions are mine to make. The movement is mine to compel.

I don’t like it.

Truth-be-told, the temptation is strong for me (and I’m guessing you, as well) to feel excruciatingly alone in such spaces and times, but if we listen, we’ll hear a whisper that gently and insistently reminds us that we are not.

“Hear me,” it breathes. “There have been other women who have known these binds and seemingly no-win situations. They see you. They hear you. They know you. And their stories surround, sustain, and speak – reminding you that, like them, you will survive; that you will make the right choice; that you do have the capacity to step up, step forward, stand tall. Because you are their daughter, their lineage, their kin.”

For me, there are times when these whispers are corporate: a choir of women’s stories that hover and hold. Today, as I’ve chosen to be still instead of spin, it’s a single voice: the clarion call of Esther.

She was a woman who had an entire book named after her in Scripture (one of only two who can claim that distinction). And though the well-known aspect of her story is that of being a queen, it holds far more dark realities than golden ones. An orphan, raised by her uncle. Forced to join the king’s harem when a violent roundup of all young girls was made throughout her village. Prepared for a year to provide the most exquisite of sexual favor and delight. Paraded before the king at his fancy and whim. Indeed, chosen to be the queen. Frightened by the discovery of a plot to kill an entire nation of people through genocide. Aware that to not act would cause the death of thousands and that to act would certainly cause her own.

It was in this place, backed into a corner, and completely overwhelmed by what was required of her, that her uncle spoke these words:

…if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father’s family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?”

For such a time as this…

This is the whisper that Esther breathes into my confusion, reluctance, and reticence. It is her voice I hear when I keep wishing for a savior, a fix, an easy-out. And it is her face I imagine when I take a deep breath and realize that it is up to me to do what needs to be done – no matter the risk, the cost, the consequences. She is the one who assures me I am up to the task.

I would wonder if Esther’s whisper might be exactly the thing you need to hear right now, too; if maybe you find yourself in a place that feels trapped, damned-if-you-do-and-damned-if-you-don’t, and impossible to come out of without battle scars. I would wonder if maybe you need to be reminded – by her and by me – that you are not alone. And I would wonder if taking ownership in the fact that you are the lineage of a queen who dared greatly, risked profoundly, and dramatically changed the course of events, might just give you the courage you need to choose, to move, to speak, to act.

The circumstances in which you find yourself, though not preferred, are the very ones that invite you to be you. For such a time as this…

The pain you know and the fear your feel are the very emotions that declare the necessity of your perspective, your\ heart, your voice. For such a time as this…

The risks inherent and the nearly-certain costs you will bear are the very realities that compel you to rise up to your full stature, your royal identity, your core strength and step forward. For such a time as this…

And in all of this, not alone.

Esther whispers. Countless other women encircle and chant. The Sacred Feminine swirls, surrounds, and supports. And the blood that courses through your veins carries everything you need to do what must be done. You know this. You’ve got this. You are here for a reason.

Is it hard? Yes. Is it scary? Undoubtedly. Is it necessary? To be sure. Do you-and-me both continue to wish that something else, anything else could happen to shift the earth on its axis and prevent what we are called to do? Mmm hmm. But that is not to be your fate – or mine.

“…And who knows but that [we] have come to [our] royal position[s] for such a time as this?”

May it be so.

*****

Here’s a post I wrote a few days back that tells of Queen Vashti – the woman whose bold stance created the context for Esther’s story in the first place.

And if you wonder whose voice whispers on your behalf, you can order a SacredReading from me. One card. One story. One woman. Just for you.

Standing Ground & Donning Crown

Mar 24, 2014 | Sacred Stories, Sovereignty, Women's Voice & Power

Yes, standing your ground and donning your crown. Or…maybe choosing to remove it altogether!

Once upon a time – or maybe it was just last year – or maybe it is yet to be – there was a beautiful queen. She had power. A full staff served her. Ladies in waiting surrounded. Everything she desired and then some was at her beck and call.

As the story goes, her husband, King Xerxes, was in the midst of a 6-month party. ” For a full 180 days he displayed the vast wealth of his kingdom and the splendor and glory of his majesty.” When those days came to an end, he threw a banquet that lasted another seven days. All the people from the least to the greatest within his kingdom were there. Wine was served in goblets of gold; the king had instructed his wine stewards to serve each man whatever he wished.

Simultaneous to all this, Queen Vashti, was giving a banquet for the women; those who accompanied and served the men.

On the seventh day, when King Xerxes was in “high spirits” from wine, he commanded the seven eunuchs who served him to bring Queen Vashti into his presence – wearing her royal crown – so that he could display her beauty to the people and nobles, “for she was lovely to look at.”

When Queen Vashti received the king’s command, right there, in front of all the women who surrounded her, she refused.

As might be expected, the king was furious. He consulted with his experts: “According to the law, what must be done to Queen Vashti?” he asked.  “She has not obeyed the command of King Xerxes…” One of his advisors replied, “Queen Vashti has done wrong, not only against the king but also against all the nobles and the peoples of all the provinces of King Xerxes. For the queen’s conduct will become known to all the women, and so they will despise their husbands and potentially follow her lead… There will be no end of disrespect and discord. Therefore, if it pleases the king, let him issue a royal decree, written in the laws of Persia and Media, which cannot be repealed, that Vashti is never again to enter the presence of King Xerxes. Also let the king give her royal position to someone else who is better than she. Then when the king’s edict is proclaimed throughout all his vast realm, all the women will respect their husbands, from the least to the greatest.”

The king and his nobles were pleased with this advice, so the edict was proclaimed. Dispatches were sent to all parts of the kingdom, to each province in its own script and to each people in their own language, proclaiming that every man should be ruler over his own household, using his native tongue.

And Queen Vashti was removed from her throne, from her rule, from her position of privilege and power.

But that was hardly the end of her story…

*****

If you’ve heard this story before it might have been by way of warning: don’t refute the will of the king, men in leadership, and certainly that of your husband. I don’t presume you ascribe to this kind of blind obedience, but that doesn’t mean the residual isn’t still in the water.

In Eastern cultures, it’s a given and in many religious contexts even in the Western world, the same holds true. The message is clear: Do what you’re asked and told, or you too, will be deposed and sent packing.

To be fair, other tellings of Vashti’s story have allowed her rightful and appropriate compassion. Her husband was clearly drunk – as were all of his council. She was asked to parade before a veritable orgy; to show herself as an object-on-display.

Stunningly, it was her awareness of her own objectification that caused her to say “no.” And hardly in private memo back to the king. She willingly and boldly, even defiantly, became an object lesson on behalf of all the women who had surrounded her those past seven days; all the women who would later and undoubtedly hear her story. And though a law was passed to teach her a lesson (and any woman who might take the craziest notion to follow her lead), no woman would ever forget her: such raw courage and beauty displayed.

We would do well to remember her, as well.

*****

Imagine that Queen Vashti is sitting in your living room. A cup of coffee or tea, or maybe wine (though not in gold goblets) is poured. She sits as regally as ever. You can viscerally sense the deep, timeless wisdom present in the room; embodied within her and swirling around you.

What does she say regarding your current circumstances, the place in which you find yourself, the decisions you are being asked to make, the compromises that loom?

Given her willingness to be deposed on behalf of honoring herself, her value, her worth, what risks does she call you to take?

Hear the voice of this queen. Pay attention to the actions of this queen. Recognize and honor the heart of this queen. The more you do, the more you will realize that this voice, these actions, and this heart are yours, within you, part of you, accessible to call on, rely on, and trust.

In other words, this Queen’s blood runs in yours. Vashti’s voice speaks into your deep, timeless wisdom, calling forth the truth you already know, the choices you’re required to make, the story you are destined to live.

Vashti beckons you to step into your rightful role and stand your ground. And though this may feel daunting, you are not alone. She remains with you – ever present, powerful, brave – and offers you beyond-imagining courage to claim all that you deserve. For you are her daughter, her lineage, her kin.

*****

A Postscript:

Subsequent to Queen Vashti’s banishment, the search began for a new Queen. Esther was chosen: a young woman who ultimately saved an entire nation. Unknowingly, but no less significantly, it was Vashti’s courage that enabled Esther’s. (That tale upcoming in the next few weeks…)

Likewise, you can be certain that your story is not told or lived in isolation. When you step into your royal identity and stand your ground, you enable other women’s stories, as-yet unknown, to take the stage, step into the light, and become realized in profound, powerful, and legendary ways.

Truth-be-told, Vashti’s story is what enables yours. She stood on the shoulders of the women who came before her. And you stand on those that have preceded and followed. Generations of women who, in their own unique and particular ways, have engendered and enabled your strength, your story. This is the heritage of which you are a part; the bloodline that cannot be ignored; the crown that is yours to don – or maybe even remove; a legacy of which you are a part and one that is yours to continue – just by being you and standing your ground for the story you deserve to tell and live.

When you do, Queen Vashti smiles – her every consequence worth it all.

May it be so.