BETWEEN YOU AND ME

Where is the light in my soul?
I'm looking but I just can't see it.
Once upon a time You said it was there.
Would You still speak?

"There is a light in your soul.
Only with eyes of love can you see it.
Be still, my child, and listen.
Do you not hear it sing?"

MY ORBIT

I have been wrestling with the question of how I can ever have any impact on the world.  If I am created to thrive best in a semi-hermitic lifestyle, how can I make any difference in the lives of others?  If I am constantly "journeying inward", what does my journey "outward" look like?  Is a journey outward even possible for one like me?

I recently brought these questions to God, feeling anxious and sad that I was not more of an extravert.  I was surprised at the metaphor I was given in response:  Picture the Moon that orbits the Earth.  The Moon does not occupy itself with travelling around the Sun, and yet, because it stays on track with the Earth, at the end of a year, it has also made it around the Sun.  In the same way, I am to be like a moon, with a sole task of sticking close to Jesus.  The outward flow of my life will happen naturally.  I don't need to contrive it.  He will ensure that it will happen.

This, I think, is what He meant when He said "Keep company with me, and you will live freely and lightly" (Matthew 11:29, The Message). 

HOW TO GROW AN OLIVE TREE

You know how when you go to a garden center, each plant has a small white plastic tab stuck in the soil telling you the ideal growing conditions for that particular species?  It occurred to me the other day that I'm in the process of learning to read what's written on my little white plastic tab. 

So far, I think my growing instructions would include:

• Water frequently, wilts quickly
• Needs lots of silence
• Leave ample room between encounters with others
• Give space for creativity
• Plant in a sunny location
• Do not try to transplant too often, has deep roots
• Fertilize regularly with doses of beauty, meaningful conversation and extended times of reflection

A few weeks ago, during a particularly difficult week, I think I finally moved one step closer to accepting my need for adequate rest, solitude, silence and stillness.  These things are part of my particular make-up.  I am learning to embrace this as what God has deemed "very good."  I think I am starting to agree with God on what this Olive plant needs to thrive, blossom and eventually bear fruit.

(un)EXPECTED VISITOR

I have a friend.  I haven't seen her for a while now.  She tends to come and go as she pleases.  Once in a while, she will drop in, stay a while and leave when she thinks she's kept me company for long enough.  Whenever she's around, my days need to be re-organized.  Hers is a quiet sort of demanding.

Most people don't understand her.  And most of the time, if I'm honest, neither do I.  Most people are also afraid of her.  I don't think that I am anymore.  But if I was, it would only be the slightest amount.  You see, she's quite gentle.  Her footsteps are light.  So light, in fact, that I usually don't notice her arrival until she's settled comfortably in my home.  That's how she arrived this time, anyway.  Perhaps it's her unpredictability and mysteriousness that frightens people.

She has her reasons for visiting, I know.  I actually think she has a direct line to God and He's the one who usually tells her when to come.  Some people see her as an unwelcome intruder, and some days when she's around, I think so too.  But she never comes without at least a few gifts for me.  So I'm learning not to resist her presence.

When she's around, my capacity for working is diminished; I need more sleep and I have trouble concentrating on certain tasks.  This means that I need to be mindful of my energy and be careful in what I choose to do or not do.  It also means that I am brought face to face with my limitations and weaknesses, which makes me re-examine where my identity and value lie.   These are some of the gifts she brings.

When she's around, I also feel a certain pervasive sadness.  This means I need to find what is life-giving and make space for those things.  I cry more easily.  The sadness is one way she helps me to enter into the grief of the world.  I might feel alone, but in actuality, I am sharing in the experience of humanity.  Her presence means that I must make room for rest and renewal.  She invites me to press closer into the bosom of Christ, who is the God of all comfort.  These, too, are the gifts she brings.

The greatest gift from her, I think, is humility.  She humbles me like nothing else.  From her, I am reminded that my limited capacity is not only a good thing, it's perfect.  And that my value comes from being a beloved creature of the Creator.

What is her name, you might ask?  Some call her Depression.  But today, I'd like you to meet my friend.

NOTES FROM MY COUNSELLOR

I was cleaning out my desk tonight and came across a couple sticky-notes from my counselling appointments when I was still figuring out how to cope with my limited energy and planning a move across the country as well as a wedding.  Since I have no where else to put the notes, I'll just type them up here and maybe it'll be helpful to someone.

Concern #1:  How will moving across the country affect me?

• there are three elements to settling into a new place: recovery, adjusting and re-investing

Concern #2:  How do I survive the wedding?

• get as much rest as possible before the wedding
• the rehearsal dinner might be challenging; figure out a contingency plan for me to leave early (also for family/out-of-town dinner after the ceremony)
• be seated for the receiving line?

Concern #3:  What about the honeymoon?

• there is a recovery phase we have to allow for when capacity will be minimal; plan for lots of rest

Concern #4:  How do I know I'm ready to go back to work?  How can I think about this in small steps?

• practice musing:  a non-pressured, no deadline type of thinking about the future
• ask myself: what captures my heart?
• take steps to build my confidence; eg, try specific projects or experiences rather than take on entire roles

And one final thought:  there are two types of encouragement, one is from the side and one is from out front.  The more helpful kind is the side-by-side kind.

IN THE NAME OF NOBILITY

I have been thoroughly enjoying "Let Your Life Speak" by Parker Palmer.  It is a book about finding one's true vocation through listening to one's own life and personhood.

I especially appreciated his insights about depression and burnout.  It's so good that I wanted to share it with you!  To give some context for the following quote, Palmer has been telling the story of an opportunity he had to be a president of a school.  As he and his trusted friends gathered to discern whether he should take it, it emerged rather humourously that his motive for taking the position was only to get his name in the paper.

The ecological theory of life, the theory of limits, works wonderfully well with situations like this:  my nature makes me unfit to be president of anything, and therefore - if I stay true to what I know about myself - I will die having avoided a fate that for me would be worse than death. 

But what happens to the theory of limits when what I want to do is not to get my picture in the paper but to meet some human need?  What happens to that theory when my vocational motive is virtous: to be a teacher from whom students can learn or a counselor who helps people find themselves or an activist who sets injustice right?... There are some things I "ought" to do or be that are simply beyond my reach.  If I try to be or do something noble that has nothing to do with who I am, I may look good to others and to myself for a while.  But the fact that I am exceeding my limits will eventually have consequences.  ...

One sign that I am violating my own nature in the name of nobility is a condition called burnout.  Though usually regarded as the result of trying to give too much, burnout in my experience results from trying to give what I do not possess - the ultimate in giving too little!  Burnout is a state of emptiness, to be sure, but it does not result from giving all I have:  it merely reveals the nothingness from which I was trying to give in the first place.  (pp. 46, 47, 49, italics mine)

I have been thinking about the idea that burnout and depression are really two forms of identity crises.  Reading Palmer's thoughts sways me further toward that conclusion.

MY FIRST AND GREATEST TASK

My first and greatest task these days is to know myself as deeply and completely loved by the Trinity.

I used to think that I was here to change the world; that the greater impact I had for Christ, the greater the glory God would get.  I have since learned that the path to greatest glory for God would be that I lived my life in obedience to Him; that I fully lived out my true self-in-Christ.  Whether my life impacts millions or whether it impacts one, that is up to God.  If He chooses to raise me up, or if He chooses to keep me unknown, it is in His wisdom.

So my ambition now is to know Him who beckons me so that I may respond to His desires for me.  This approach releases me from the pressure to make my life count for something.  Because if I am being attentive and obedient, my life could not count for more - no matter what else I did.