Before Valentine’s Day

Feb 7, 2018 | Hope & Encouragement, My sort-of Sermons

I have an ambivalent relationship with Valentine’s Day.

When young(er), I wished and prayed that I would have a Valentine by the time the day arrived. I was almost always disappointed. Much, much later, when I married at 31, I chose Valentine’s Day for the wedding itself. That changed my position and perspective. Every year, as our anniversary rolled around, I was (mostly) able to see the day in a positive and heart-warming way. After 14 of annual celebrations, we separated then divorced, the former occurring just weeks before the marking of our 15th year. That Valentine’s Day was significant – not a celebration, but certainly a marker not about relationship with another, but with myself; not about another’s love, but my own – for me. And now, 10+ years later, I admittedly vacillate between the wishing/praying of my younger years and an almost complete disconnect from the day itself.

Would I like to have this day marked with roses, chocolate, a sweet card, a romantic dinner? Of course. And is any/all of that predicated on someone else? Uh, no.

So, before Valentine’s Day arrives, I’m asking myself some questions. Maybe you could as well.

  • In relationship, can I remain clear and committed to all the places my passion lies – and for whom, all the ways it is expressed within and through me? Will I express it – in articulate, even lavish ways?
  • Out of relationship (and frankly, even in), will I refrain from bitterness or caustic cynicism; instead, smiling generously and genuinely at those who are captivated by this day, grateful that love still holds sway, still conquers all, still survives and thrives?
  • Will I treat myself to the gift I most want to receive? A leather-bound journal. A beautiful ring. A good bottle of wine. A weekend away. An exercise routine. An Instant Pot. A quiet day of writing.
  • Will I courageously ask for what I most want? An honest conversation. A conflict resolved. A decision made.
  • Can I, will I, wholeheartedly declare-and-believe that I am whole, complete, and worthy of love – first and foremost my own?
  • Will I recall, recite, and recommit to these two truths: I am not too much and I am more than enough?

It’s estimated that more than 1 billion Valentine’s Day cards are sent each year, And, not surprisingly, women purchase approximately 85 percent of them. Given such, let’s buy and send them to our girlfriends, our sisters, our daughters, our mothers, ourselves. Not because we feel the need to mark such an arbitrary date and contrived “holiday,” but because we deserve to make it our own.

Toward that end – making the day our own – let’s boldly declare our love (to others and self) whether roses are delivered or not. Not because it’s Valentine’s Day, but because it’s who and how we are: strong, glorious, expressive women who do not shy from telling our truth, from giving our heart, from risking everything on behalf of what matters most.

So before Valentine’s Day – and in preparation, know this: you are worth the greeting, every sentiment held within, and all the love (and then some) that you can possibly bear.

Yes, yesterday. Now what?

Nov 10, 2016 | Hope & Encouragement, Sacred Stories, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom

Yesterday, November 9, 2016, I did all the things I always do:

I made coffee. I journaled. I gave my daughter a hug before she left for school. I made my bed. I took a shower. I blow-dried my hair. I put on makeup. I got dressed. I spritzed perfume. I donned earrings, necklace, bracelets, ring. I cooked oatmeal and added berries. I perused and posted on Facebook. I answered a few emails. I prepared for and talked with my clients.

You’d think it was just another day.

Which it was, of course.

Which it was not – in any way, shape, or form.

In the midst of doing all the things I always do, my heart was strong-but-heavy. I could not, nor can I yet today, escape the permeating awareness of the days-ago election or tomorrow’s unknown.

But as I did all the things I always do, as I sought to incorporate reality into my psyche, as my day went on and I listened to my daughters, talked with friends, answered more emails, fixed dinner, and prepared for a night of sleep, I found myself thinking of other women.

Centuries of them – who survived atrocities, hatred, violence, genocide, slavery, silencing, shame, and yes, misogyny. Who made the bed and hugged their children and got dressed and cooked breakfast. Who lived and lived and lived.

The more I thought about them, the more I thought about the particular women within the stories I tell. Somehow, despite all the silencing and shame they’ve known, the atrocities of their time, the layers of theology and dogma (and misogyny) under which they’ve been buried, they have survived. And that gives me hope. They give me hope.

Where there’s hope, there’s life. It fills us with fresh courage and makes us strong again. ~ Anne Frank

Yes. Hope is what we need. And hope is what women offer us. Centuries of them. As far back as the stories I tell, even further, and every age since. They rally on our behalf. They rise up and remind us that we are to do the same, that we will do the same.They come alongside us, even still, even today, especially today, in solidarity and strength. They catch our tears, soothe our tired brows, mend our broken hearts, and whisper – call – sing us back into strength.

Can you hear them? Listen closer. They are chanting, drumming, thundering the words they most want us to remember, most want us to believe, most want us to embody:

“Live and live and live!”

There are moments when I feel like giving up or giving in, but I soon rally again and do my duty as I see it: to keep the spark of life inside me ablaze. ~ Etty Hillesum

This is what we will do: live and live and live.

So, my friends, let us have faith in each other. Let us not grow weary. Let us not lose heart, for there are more seasons to come, and there is more work to do. ~ Hillary Clinton (from yesterday’s concession speech)

These are the things we always do – day-in, day-out: we hope, we persevere, we have faith in each other, we do not lose heart, we work, we love, and we live and we live and we live.

A woman’s heart = experiencing God

Dec 9, 2015 | Hope & Encouragement, Spirituality, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom

From the beginning of time we have been asking questions about the Divine. The form, complexity, and context of the questions have changed as centuries have passed – influenced by our understanding (or lack thereof) of so many things: cosmology, philosophy, psychology, sociology, biology – but at the end of the day, year, generation, epoch, our inquiry remains essentially the same: Is there a God? And if so, how are we to understand
this God?

I hardly mean to make light of humanity’s quest – or even that of an individual – but what I know-that-I-know-that-I-know is that all it takes to solve any and all existential angst is to hang out with a woman.

I have the privilege of doing a lot of this – which, when I think of it, leaves me profoundly qualified to speak of God. (Bonus!!)

As I write this post, I am sitting in the airport awaiting my flight home after enjoying 5 days with one of the wisest, most beautiful, kind, and compassionate women on the planet. To call her friend takes my breath away. I stayed in her home, spent time with her family, ate her food, slept on her fold-out couch, kept her up way too late, and enjoyed a number of bottles of wine, spirits, and of course, champagne. It was fun, restful, encouraging, inspired, heart-overf;owing, grace-filled and above and beyond all else, just pure-and-endless love. It was, quite simply, divine. I did, quite clearly, experience the Divine.

So, want your own proof for the existence of God? Want to know how you are to understand this God? Yep. Hang out with a woman! The Divine will be revealed in and through her embrace, through the experience of being seen and heard and known by her, through the gift of time and conversation and hospitality and rest and most of all, her pure-and-endless-love.

And here’s even more definitive proof: When you show up and hang out with a woman, she becomes certain of God’s existence, as well – because of you. (Bonus!!!)

You can push me on this anyway to Sunday, as you please, but every bit of my experience, education, and expertise only validates what I know to be true:

It is only through our experience of love that we are certain of God’s existence. And love is experienced through a woman’s heart.

I know this is shocking, but it’s really that simple, that clear, that easy, that delightful.

Test this for yourself. Hang out with a woman. Pay attention to everything that is most true about your time together and apply these characteristics to the Divine. They won’t be wrong, I promise. Then take this one step further. Look in the mirror and revel in the fact that you reflect exactly the same!

All existential questions answered. All denominational strife solved. All religious wars settled. Every doubt soothed. Every hope realized. Every faith made real. God incarnate. In our midst. Relevant. Present. And right here. (Sounds a little reminiscent of the Christmas story, yes?) Yes.

‘Looking to experience God? Hang out with a woman. Yourself included. (Bonus!!)

A Woman’s Fight

Oct 26, 2015 | Mothers and Daughters, Sacred Stories, Women's Voice & Power

There’s an old, old story told of the patriarch, Jacob, who wrestled through the night with an angel-man, the Divine, God-revealed. Many say he won that fight, but I am not so sure. He demanded a blessing, was given a new name, and left with a limp that haunted him the rest of his life.

There is another old, old story told of a woman who wrestled with God. Not an angel version, but flesh-and-blood, the one they called Jesus. She stopped him on the road, created a scene, and begged him to heal her daughter. He said no. She said yes. He said no again – almost rude; patronizing, inexplicable. Like Jacob, she stood firm and demanded his yes, his blessing, the miracle. And finally Jesus gave in. She won the fight, no scar; only the spoils.

The man gets blind-sided, not anticipating a fight. He demands a blessing before he’ll let this God go. Received, but wounded. The woman doesn’t pick a fight, but enters the battle willingly. She demands the wound be healed, no battle scar allowed. Received, period.

The man fights until he gets the blessing and a bone out-of-socket. The woman does too, but for her very blood and bone.

The man fights for the principle of the thing. The woman fights for what she loves.

The man wants to know who he’s fighting with. The woman already knows with whom she duels.

The man heard God’s voice and still asked who he was dealing with. The woman used her own voice and knew who she was dealing with.

The man demanded a blessing and left with a limp (and a new name). The woman demanded a miracle and left with both heart and daughter healed (we never know her name).

Jacob’s story has been told as proof of his status and stature, a template for what it means to be a man of God: chosen, honored, worthy, a fighter. Buy ringside tickets. Place your bets. Be amazed.

Her story has been told far differently: Who did she think she was to argue with God; with a man? Incorrigible. Ridiculous. Unheard of.

Still, Jacob leaves with a lifelong wound.

She leaves with a life-restored.

May it be so.

Go Deeper Still

Dec 31, 2014 | Hope & Encouragement, My sort-of Sermons

You already know this: there is profound beauty and wisdom that lies in wait – deep within you.

When you listen, when you trust, when you are honest, it’s what only you can hear. It’s your voice. And it tells you to stand, to rise, to sing, to create, to dance, to write, to speak, to weep, to preach, to scream, to dream, to desire, to hope, to love, to be . . . you.

Go deeper. Beneath the layers of cultural messaging and familial patterns. Go deeper. Beneath the relational rules that twist. Go deeper. Beneath the voices – within and without – that shout you into silence. Go deeper. Beneath the shame that suffocates. Go deeper. Beneath the economic restraint that (seemingly) hinders. Go deeper. Beneath the religious constructs that bind. Go deeper. Beneath the ego’s incessant drone that restrains. Go deeper.

There, beneath all of this, and deeper still, beats your heart. And there, within your heart, your soul, your spirit’s womb and deeper still, is all that you need. The confirmation. The affirmation. The certainty. The will. The profound beauty and wisdom that is yours. That is you.
Ahhhhhhh.

And just as quickly as you descend, you are pulled – coughing and spluttering to the surface. Your practiced, poised, and “appropriate” self can already anticipate and envision the problem with letting that voice, that you out: you would most certainly be misunderstood. Exactly!

You are not here to be understood. You are here to be you.

Which is why you must go deeper still. Into the very womb of your truest self where you are fluent in your heart’s language, where you are certain of your knowing, where you are whole, complete, not lacking for anything, and at rest. Where the profound beauty and wisdom lies in wait. It’s not going anywhere. And we can wait. I’m wondering though, if you can . . .

It’s time.

May it be so.

*****

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