I have so many saved worship songs and saved Christian Featured Pets of the Day (I will absolutely give you one) and literally dozens of prayer requests, but this is a week I want to curl up into a ball of Scripture and other people writing about Scripture, and I also want non-subscribers to be able to share today as well, so I have made it a thread.
This is Wallace, who his human companion, Julie, describes as “a three-year-old American Staffordshire Terrier rescued from a shelter in Chicago.”
“He has springs in his paws and can jump higher than I am tall, and loves the dog beach more than anything else in the whole world. His second favorite thing is laying in the sun, which he gets to do less of in Minnesota than he would like.”
“He often goes to work with my husband and sunbathes in the church windows and contemplates theology (he loves Henri Nouwen, is probably an Origenist, and is partial to the women mystics and saints of the later Middle Ages).”
Thank you so much, Julie & Wallace.
What are we clinging to? What verses are speaking to us? What songs give us succor? What have we yelled at The Lord about this past week? Let’s get real.
I think frequently of how "fear not" is the most common thing God and Jesus say to us and their people in the Bible, and I think of it both in terms of "okay, I do not need to be afraid," but also in that it shows that God and Jesus *understand* our fear, and its strength, and how it pervades our lives. That they know how fear drives us. They want to free us from it, but also to remind us they understand. That has helped me a lot this last week.
I am really enjoying working on my contemplative prayer practice, which for me is a mix of taking long walks without music and listening in case God wants to tell me something, as well as the more formal work of the Lectio Divina. You can select a psalm, a handful of verses, a parable. Just read it once normally. Aloud, ideally. Then read it a second time. Then, before you read it a third time, think about what part of it is connecting with you. Then, the fourth time, ask God what he wants you to hear in this, today. More often than not, I'll get a nugget to take through the day. I also invariably cry wildly by the third read.
My spiritual director does unpaid spiritual tours of the National Gallery in DC, where she encourages people to go through this project with the beautiful, beautiful Renaissance paintings of Biblical scenes. (Please also read Nouwen's short book on the Prodigal Son, which is a life-changer.)
I would like to share with you today a passage from Henri Nouwen's "The Genesee Diary," which he wrote during his seven month stay in a Trappist monastery, because Henri was, I believe, as close to understanding God's love for us as any of us have managed, and was yet so beautifully and goofily and truthfully human. These words are such a balm to me:
Friday, 12:
"When you keep going anxiously to the mailbox in the hope that someone "out there" has thought about you; when you keep wondering if and what your friends are thinking of you; when you keep having hidden desires to be a somewhat exceptional person in this community; when you keep having fantasies about guests mentioning your name; when you keep looking for special attention from the abbot or any one of the monks; when you keep hoping for more interesting work and more stimulating events--then you know you haven't even started to create a little place for God in your heart."
"When nobody writes anymore; when hardly anyone even thinks of you or wonders how you are doing; when you are just one of the brothers doing the same things as they are doing, not better or worse; when you have been forgotten by people--maybe then your heart and mind have become empty enough to give God a real chance to let his presence be known to you."
This works for me most especially bc Nouwen famously called his friends constantly and needed constant positive reinforcement and was desperately lonely and also gay and not sure what to do with that, so he is speaking AS you, while knowing he needs to release the need for external validation.
I'm taking a lot of comfort in this thread today. After 2 years of trying to start our family, and dealing, first with infertility and then the adoption process, my husband and I were chosen by a birth mother in May, due July 25th. She was so on board the whole time, and because of a lot of factors we were sure it would happen. She talked about me being in the delivery room and we had named the baby (a girl, Maria Evangeline) and chosen godparents, and decorated the nursery (Wonder Woman) and my friends were planning a shower. Three weeks ago we got an email from the adoption worker saying that the mom had told her she thought the baby was coming soon, so we needed to be ready to go... then 2 days later the worker called, and said the mom had texted her the night before that she had the baby (didn't notify anyone) and decided to parent. SHE IS COMPLETELY WITHIN HER RIGHT TO DO THIS. She did not do anything wrong, we know that. We wish her the best and pray for both of them daily. Hopefully, this will be best for baby and mom... but I've never hurt so much in my life. I feel like I'm learning how to... person.... again... And on Sunday my brother's wife had their 5th child. The world makes no sense to me, but this thread is helping. Our priest keeps saying God loves us and I don't think he would lie to us, but damn, it does not feel like it right now. I just hold on to the fact that other people see and feel God and hope we will again soon.
It's no bright side but it does speak to the intensity of the week that my very secular husband independently suggested we got to church on Sunday. I have been waiting for this for a long time and hope it means a new beginning for both of us. I have been trying to tear myself away (or maybe trying *not* to tear myself away) from the Catholic church pretty much since Trump came along and I realized that my very nice, very loving, but very bland parish was not going to be up to the task of being my place of solace. So we are going to try moving over the the local Episcopal church and all their gender neutral scripture reading, Eucharist-for-All glory. Please pray for us that this will be fruitful for us, I want it so badly.
I have never done this before in my life but I yelled at God in the kitchen yesterday to HELP ME BE CALM WITH THESE CHILDREN YOU GAVE ME I HAVE ASKED YOU FIVE HUNDRED TIMES. It felt disrespectful but I was inspired by Anne LaMott, who said God can take it.
Lately, it has meant a lot to me that Jesus often told his disciples "y'all, they're gonna kill me for this" and then kept on doing his ministry. That has given me courage to tell the truth about how dangerous it is to be faithful, and that the faithfulness is worth the danger. Also, the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego sticks with me. They told Nebuchadnezzar - "look you can kill us, but you still can't make us worship you." What a revelation of where true power actually sits - not in the empire (which can only kill you), but in the hands of the quiet and committed faithful.
I keep feeling myself called back to faith -- especially with all the awful things going on lately -- and keep running up against roadblocks of the very fundamental "what it means to be Christian" variety. (Abortion's the big one; I don't believe life begins at conception, I donate to PP without regret and would drive my friends to the clinic in a heartbeat, and that makes me feel like I will never be able to fully give myself over to faith. I even wrote a big, panicky, embarrassing email to Nicole about it and she very sweetly suggested I turn to the community here, so, uh, thank you for your grace in how you handled that, Nicole, I'm sorry!!)
Anyway. How do y'all reconcile those moments in yourself, where you have a strongly-held belief that you will never abandon but that is at odds with the "Christian" thing to do? How can I let myself fully fall into the arms of God when it feels like doing so would make me a giant hypocrite? I can't articulate how much turning my back on this call makes me want to cry, but I also can't articulate how strongly I believe that abortion is not the same as taking a life. I could use some guidance and prayers if you have any to spare.
My brain, unbidden, added a comma in the middle of the post title, making its mental cadence "Jesus, Wednesday." Because, this week so far.
I've been trying to get my social anxiety to shut up enough to visit the church near my house. Their pastor spoke at a local vigil last month, and I couldn't stop thinking about it and her the whole weekend. I was raised in a Quaker meeting, but recently I've been feeling a kind of searching and a need for community and the guidance of other people. So, maybe this weekend I'll get out the door?
I have no idea if he is a practicing Christian or not, but watching Beto O'Rourke's compassionate care for his hometown of El Paso -- as well as his willingness to speak truth to power in calling out the media and the president for their various sins -- has been very moving and consoling to me this week. I had not really paid much attention to him up to now, and still don't think he should be president, but he has impressed me. That love is its own kind of prayer.
My spiritual practice of the week is text banking with resistance labs for gun control advocacy. Yesterday I sent texts to 3000 people. Only about 10 of them were dicks about it and I'm proud to say that I only screamed JESUS DISARMED PETER at two who were being super combative and trying to hid their AR 15s behind the cross like fuckin dick bags. The overwhelming majority of responses were enthusiastic to call their reps. It made me feel buoyant and gave my anxious hands something to do despite my thumb now genuinely hurting from pressing a button.
I've been really uplifted by the @queer.prayers account on instagram. It helps, even if I find poetry embarrassing because of who I am as a person (Capricorn).
I've not been able to listen to music since the shootings this weekend. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Finally: I have started working on gathering admissions documentation for seminary because I think my year long discernment process is finally coming to a a close. I feel a pull from my navel and a kick in my ass towards being a pastor. My head, on the other hand, is like no you'll be so much happier as a mental health counselor because it will be easier and frankly more financially sustainable. To which I hear a small voice saying "when ever did I promise you following Me would be easy." So. Ya know. I think that settles it. But I might wimp out. Jesus will still love me if I wimp out, right? That's His whole deal?
I’m planning to email a Rabbi soon (probably this weekend??) about conversion and am very nervous about it, so any prayers/good thoughts would be appreciated. The sudden appearance of a very insistent G-d has been a real experience coming from complete atheism, but apparently the call is real and I’m heeding it. If anyone has any good conversion narratives to Judaism, I’m always looking for more books to read.
I especially always try to listen to this part of the Amida:
I have too many jumbled thoughts to try and untangle them into something coherent right now, but I just wanted to say thank you for Jesus Wednesdays. I've been away for a really long time after being raised and educated through college in a super conservative evangelical tradition. I've always figured I'd probably come back someday, but I have majorly avoided doing any real spiritual work because of my intense existential fear. Anyway. All that to say that reading Jesus Wednesdays is my version of church right now, and I'm glad it's here. It gives me hope that maybe I'll be able to figure it out again someday.
I'm normally the type to chat with Skydaddy (nickname's source unknown but high-five to them) as if he's with me. Sitting in the passenger seat of my car. Across the table. Just a part of my life. Then last week, a friend got terrible news after terrible news, and my heart shattered for her. For the first time in my life, I felt the need to prostrate myself and beg for help. My mind was racing, so my prayers were scattered and just felt like panic, so I asked for help praying.
I've never had this feeling before. It was this overwhelming "you need to do this NOW" drive to be on the floor.
I was just thinking the other day that God and Jesus get a lot of attention, but the Holy Spirit is treated like the ghost that hangs out in the rafters and speaks up sometimes. But it's so much more than that. There is power there.
I've been sitting with these beautiful Old Testament passages where God gushes about how much he loves the house of Israel and a) I really love harping on how "angry-Old-Testament-God" is an anti-Semitic trope for people who can't handle how much God loves Jews and b) rn I really need a vision of people in pain rebuilding their ruined cities and rejoicing in them. Anyway, today's passage is Amos 9:14: "I mean to restore the fortunes of my people Israel; / they will rebuild the ruined cities and live in them."
I’m leaving for a huge, scary trip in a couple days (climbing Mt Kilimanjaro) and then starting seminary immediately after I return, so all my prayers have been the desperate, terrified prayers of someone who is in way over their head.
But I’ve also been diving into tarot as a way to access what God’s saying to me because I have a lot of trouble listening in the silence. (It’s something I’d like to work on, but right now is a time to grab hold of what works.) I did a simple reading yesterday (my birthday) to look at what I’m being called to in the year to come, and I’ve never felt so clearly that God is making A Point (TM) through my tarot cards. The point: Trust in your support system, listen to elders in your community, and you’ll be fine. So I’m still terrified and in over my head, but I’m trying to trust that God’s got me.
I'm Mennonite & lately I feel a more positive current of energy surrounding me - I've been trying to respond by spending more time in prayer and meditation (I woke up at 4am today just to make sure I could get it in before work). I don't quite understand what is happening but I will take it! I need healing in my life and maybe I'm in a place where I'm ready to receive it.
My love for God and Jesus is rooted in my love for worship music. Even as a Catholic who doesnt make it to services much anymore - I have a tortured relationship with the Church for its well documented failings but other religious traditions don't speak to me in the same way that Catholicism's pomp and high drama do - I can hear the first chords of On Eagles Wings and just lose my collective mind.
I had a conversation last week with my Dad, who is one of my favorite humans and who understand God in a deep, deep, beautiful way. He kept reminding me that the way Jesus often made a difference was uniquely individual, one person at a time, meeting them where they were at and loving them. I feel so small and insignificant and like there's nothing I can do to stem the tide of overwhelming grossness and hate and trauma in the world. And I said something like "I feel like I should probably go become a community organizer because they're actually making a difference in the world", to which he replied "well, is God asking you to do that? Because if God is, then drop everything and do it now. And if God isn't, then you risk doing something you only *think* you're supposed to do... which is a pretty dumb reason to do something." That was reassuring, and gave me peace that yes, God wants me to be where I am. No, I won't stop protesting and challenging authority and calling out institutional racism and misogyny with each person I come into contact with. Yes, God is hoping I'll love the person next to me (even if they are super-evangelical-president-loving-hate-mongers). No, God doesn't think I'm cooler than the person next to me, but loves us all EXACTLY THE SAME. Yes, my best chance at making a difference is one person at a time, one relationship at a time, one interaction at a time, over and over and over again. No, it's not immediately satisfying, but the long slow work of love usually doesn't have big giant fireworks and rewards. It was another small step towards peace and faith for me.
I'm not really religious anymore (grew up Lutheran) but I've felt pretty inspired and comforted by your witness lately, Nicole. I also attended a childhood friend's ordination the Friday before last and I really admire her conviction, especially when she ties social justice to Jesus. I follow a few pastors with similar ideologies and I feel a little less cynical about it all.
I listened to "God's Not Dead" by Newsboys this weekend and was just a wreck given the events happening at the same time. It's kind of a shame that it's tied to such a terrible hokey movie because the song actually really fucking slaps and I think its message is powerful and sustaining. Contemporary Christian pop rock continues to be my remaining tether to the faith and I'm okay with that.
I'm entering year three of a big faith overhaul, which has been really scary; and this year in particular, my mom was diagnosed with breast canter and my best friend/roommate went into renal failure (I would love if y'all could pray for them both!) And the world has been hurting more than usual lately.
So I've been crying a lot, and then crying more. I've been really sad and afraid, and I've felt deeply ashamed and guilty about being sad and afraid. Somewhere in my childhood in the Church I got this idea that it's shameful/sinful to be sad, or scared, or to doubt God's goodness or very existence.
I would love to be able to turn to the Bible, but that's also kind of scary, so I'm very grateful for my mothers and fathers in the faith, especially Saint Ambrose, who wrote this wonderful sermon http://www.newadvent.org/fathers/34031.htm in the midst of his grief over his brother's death. He says, "...we have not incurred any grievous sin by our tears. Not all weeping proceeds from unbelief or weakness." When I first read that line, I cried for like an hour. I was so relieved and grateful to have permission to cry. If you struggle with scruples and shame, I hope it helps you too. <3
As a gay Catholic, and a Jesuit-type Catholic, I am currently yelling at the brokenness of the institutional Catholic Church preventing a high school from celebrating the Eucharist as a whole school community for refusing to fire a married, gay teacher (the Brebeuf situation). I was filled with so much joy and love for my church when this Jesuit school stood their ground, stood by this teacher, even at the cost of being 'kicked out' of the diocese. I don't know what to do with my hope and joy when the cost was the public celebration of the Eucharist, except have faith that God is hurting with me.
Oh this thread. Y'know, one of my favourite mantras is "shut up and listen." I am often angry when I don't think I have heard from God in a while, because it would be nice to get a hint of which way to turn, especially when it seems like half the world - spouse/progeny/the large organization I help run - is looking to me for guidance.
And then I find this thread in my inbox and I remember to shut up and listen, because God is telling me things through the people (like you and your readers) I encounter without trying too hard. I go to church - the church my parents selected for me, because it's comfortable, even when I disagree with a lot of things said there - and I suss out what message is coming directly for me and that's important. But to believe in God means believing in the people he created and to believe that there is something to be learned from all of them.
All of this is to say thanks for this thread. My dog is cuter than all of those, but I won't hold it against anyone.
I want to so badly reconnect with God as my life is about to change so drastically and I'm still dealing with the same trauma that's plagued me all my life. I don't know how. Do I buy a Bible? Do I sit and listen? Do I write?
have been thinking many things about God lately. about how both the immediacy of God's true and present love, and the pervasive doubt that there is anything other than the claustrophobically mundane, are equally terrifying to me. how it is sometimes just as easy to be afraid of the light as of the dark, of the revealed as of the hidden - because if there is nothing, then what horror; and if there is indeed God's presence and love, then what awe and terror there too: how presumptuous must I be to pretend to know His will, how shameful to remake God into the mere idea of God, into my own image. how diminishing. what a feeble understanding I have of the greatest force to ever be. in the presence of some One so incomprehensible what can I do? thank God there is something more to this world, but how frightening that there is something more than what I can understand.
have been thinking a lot about God's I AM, about how He does not change His mind, for there is no mind to change; how He simply and fully IS, how we only need a name to use because we have no other way to give language to the Lord; how a prayer for help is not petitioning for God to appear - because God is here always, because God simply IS always - but is rather a petition that we may find a way to turn ourselves toward Him, to allow ourselves to glimpse or feel or grasp a small fragment of what already is around us and acting within us. how it is tempting to despair at how overwhelming it is. how it is difficult and yet more good to remember that His excess love and His unceasing presence is the reason I am here at all. how He is fearsome and immense and abstract but is also All in All, how he Is the good.
how love and happiness are not the same thing; how love and safety are not the same thing; how we are called to love without reward. how we are called not to follow a set of rules for the sake of rule following, for the promise of a better life, but to act only out of love, out of honor of a love so close it suffuses us.
usually I pray and meditate on Franz Wright poems but I came across a Marie Howe poem this week that is speaking to me. it is called Annunciation.
"Even if I don't see it again - nor every feel it
I know it is - and that if once it hailed me
it ever does
And so it is myself I want to turn in that direction
I have been feeling very distrustful of my own mind lately - worried that i cannot connect with god or hear from him because how do I know if i'm not just making everything up? as a typically very articulate person, i hate the feeling that i cannot put into words this interior knot in my brain that seems to attack my ability to know my "true" self
On the advice of you, Nicole, I've just started reading Take this Bread! The tears have already arrived, just in the prologue. I've been taking communion for about ten years now, so I'm hoping this book will help me embrace the miracle and meaningfullness of it. I'm also working through the book of Job, which is facilitating my yelling at God at the state of the world and how hopeless it all seems.
I just wanted to say thank you for this thread and for Jesus Wednesdays. I can count on the fingers of one hand the people I can stand to talk about religion with in real life, because my personal conception of God (practicing Catholic, Jesuit-educated, Jesus and I see other people but still talk all the time) gets yelled at a lot and argued with and it's hard to explain to people who were taught never to question God that I may pray to the saints for intercession but my prayers also sometimes take the form of YOU ARE BEING SUCH A SCHMUCK RIGHT NOW MY HOLY DUDE. And here you all are figuring it out and being good to each other and it's nice to have a place to feel free to say the difficult things and wrestle with them and know that makes me no less a Christian.
I finished “Take This Bread” (on Nicole’s recommendation) a few weeks ago. I’ve been thinking a lot since then about how Miles frames Psalm 118 (117 LXX):22 — “The stone the builders rejected…” — as a comment not only on grace abiding in grubby and unexpected, but as an emphasis on how WE are all rejected stones with a chance to become the cornerstone.
I’m now (ALSO on Nicole’s recommendation) reading Cloud & Townsend’s “Boundaries” and boy oh boy is it stirring up interesting new conversations in therapy.
I also went to confession a few weeks ago at an excellent church I go to whenever I visit friends in another city, and I’m a little annoyed at God for the spiritual care at my own weekly parish being so… perfunctory by comparison.
I have been reading in Acts over the past couple weeks and I'm so struck, as I usually am, by Paul's conversion. A man who had truly persecuted the saints--tracking them down, arresting them, binding them, delivering them to "justice"--to such an extent that when he was called out, and set right, everyone was extremely confused.
"I am Jesus whom thou persecutest: it is hard for thee to kick against the pricks." I am taking some comfort from Paul's journey and mission. If the worst of us can turn into the best of us, whether that's me kicking against small daily pricks, or another child of God who has done some truly despicable things, there's more hope, more love, more to come, even good, wonderful things ahead.
My jams of late have been the ones like Blessed Assurance, Lift Every Voice & Sing, I Surrender All sung in the African American holiness church tradition of my youth. I sing them and think of the generations before me who endured so much during Jim Crow America. It gives me hope and manages to break in two. Here's a lovely rendition from Cece Winans: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fiSkmbzS4nw
Ah Nicole. I teach at a Christian college and read great theology and I’ve felt utterly disconnected from God for a loooong time. I keep plodding on knowing my disconnect is not evidence of anything other than me being a pissy little git. I’ve often thought of getting a spiritual director but I never do. And my spouse is a firm “unbeliever” who tends to receive any spiritual habits I want to develop as Time stolen from him. I head into a new job with a new faith community and I feel as I have for most of my life: both committed and dedicated, and spiritually dead.
Lately, I have been really searching for something. I think I know it's God, but after all the trauma and misery I know it has to look different than what it was before. I thought about trying a Quaker church and even looked into the idea of taking a Judaism class at one of the synagogues here, but my heart just doesn't know. Of course I worry too that if I'm not rooted in your standard church denomination or if I were to convert that I would lose my place in heaven which feels silly but inescapable as a fear. It's been sitting with me for some time to the point that Rich Mullins' My Deliverer played on a podcast and I burst into tears at my desk completely overcome by a very deep sense of longing. Anyway, it's hard. I am alone where I am and don't have a connection to someone who also Gets It so I've painted and sat with this. [deleted original because of some weird phrasing]
My mother and I have been attending our (Lutheran) church for about 2 years now, and the pastor just put her name up for candidacy for church council! I’m very proud of her and the community she’s helped build and invigorate since we came to this church. And I’m looking forward to meddling in church affairs by proxy *steeples fingers*
I have been listening quite a lot lately to the song "Reckless Love" by Cory Asbury because if nothing else, it reminds me how deeply God loves me, despite everything, in a way I could never fully grasp. It comes close, though. In my more vulnerable moments it's a song that makes me cry - not tears of sadness or even of happiness, but just... emotion, if that even makes sense? It feels like an experience of love every time I hear it.
"Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending reckless love of God." ❤
I have been loving reading prayers from "The Valley of Vision" whenever I start to feel overwhelmed at work. There's something about reading words that do not come naturally to me, but ring true, that brings so much peace to my spirit.
Thinking constantly about this line from "God of Grace and God of Glory" -- "Save us from weak resignation/to the evils we deplore," and, from the same hymn "Grand us wisdom, grant us courage, for the living of these days."
I find Psalm 37 to be comforting and inspiring these days, especially lines 17-18 "for the power of the wicked will be broken, but the Lord upholds the righteous."
I was having my time with God today and came across my notes from an old message about doubt and how doubting is normal and how God loves us through our doubt and I don't know if anyone else is dealing with doubt because the world is so so terrible, but here is the link to the audio: https://radiopublic.com/lifegate-church-podcast-Gb27p5/ep/s1!e144f
Leaning on the Everlasting Arms has gotten me through a lot and there are so many wonderful recordings out there - Mahalia especially. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Mb0XA2BDx0
I think frequently of how "fear not" is the most common thing God and Jesus say to us and their people in the Bible, and I think of it both in terms of "okay, I do not need to be afraid," but also in that it shows that God and Jesus *understand* our fear, and its strength, and how it pervades our lives. That they know how fear drives us. They want to free us from it, but also to remind us they understand. That has helped me a lot this last week.
I am really enjoying working on my contemplative prayer practice, which for me is a mix of taking long walks without music and listening in case God wants to tell me something, as well as the more formal work of the Lectio Divina. You can select a psalm, a handful of verses, a parable. Just read it once normally. Aloud, ideally. Then read it a second time. Then, before you read it a third time, think about what part of it is connecting with you. Then, the fourth time, ask God what he wants you to hear in this, today. More often than not, I'll get a nugget to take through the day. I also invariably cry wildly by the third read.
My spiritual director does unpaid spiritual tours of the National Gallery in DC, where she encourages people to go through this project with the beautiful, beautiful Renaissance paintings of Biblical scenes. (Please also read Nouwen's short book on the Prodigal Son, which is a life-changer.)
I would like to share with you today a passage from Henri Nouwen's "The Genesee Diary," which he wrote during his seven month stay in a Trappist monastery, because Henri was, I believe, as close to understanding God's love for us as any of us have managed, and was yet so beautifully and goofily and truthfully human. These words are such a balm to me:
Friday, 12:
"When you keep going anxiously to the mailbox in the hope that someone "out there" has thought about you; when you keep wondering if and what your friends are thinking of you; when you keep having hidden desires to be a somewhat exceptional person in this community; when you keep having fantasies about guests mentioning your name; when you keep looking for special attention from the abbot or any one of the monks; when you keep hoping for more interesting work and more stimulating events--then you know you haven't even started to create a little place for God in your heart."
"When nobody writes anymore; when hardly anyone even thinks of you or wonders how you are doing; when you are just one of the brothers doing the same things as they are doing, not better or worse; when you have been forgotten by people--maybe then your heart and mind have become empty enough to give God a real chance to let his presence be known to you."
This works for me most especially bc Nouwen famously called his friends constantly and needed constant positive reinforcement and was desperately lonely and also gay and not sure what to do with that, so he is speaking AS you, while knowing he needs to release the need for external validation.
I'm taking a lot of comfort in this thread today. After 2 years of trying to start our family, and dealing, first with infertility and then the adoption process, my husband and I were chosen by a birth mother in May, due July 25th. She was so on board the whole time, and because of a lot of factors we were sure it would happen. She talked about me being in the delivery room and we had named the baby (a girl, Maria Evangeline) and chosen godparents, and decorated the nursery (Wonder Woman) and my friends were planning a shower. Three weeks ago we got an email from the adoption worker saying that the mom had told her she thought the baby was coming soon, so we needed to be ready to go... then 2 days later the worker called, and said the mom had texted her the night before that she had the baby (didn't notify anyone) and decided to parent. SHE IS COMPLETELY WITHIN HER RIGHT TO DO THIS. She did not do anything wrong, we know that. We wish her the best and pray for both of them daily. Hopefully, this will be best for baby and mom... but I've never hurt so much in my life. I feel like I'm learning how to... person.... again... And on Sunday my brother's wife had their 5th child. The world makes no sense to me, but this thread is helping. Our priest keeps saying God loves us and I don't think he would lie to us, but damn, it does not feel like it right now. I just hold on to the fact that other people see and feel God and hope we will again soon.
It's no bright side but it does speak to the intensity of the week that my very secular husband independently suggested we got to church on Sunday. I have been waiting for this for a long time and hope it means a new beginning for both of us. I have been trying to tear myself away (or maybe trying *not* to tear myself away) from the Catholic church pretty much since Trump came along and I realized that my very nice, very loving, but very bland parish was not going to be up to the task of being my place of solace. So we are going to try moving over the the local Episcopal church and all their gender neutral scripture reading, Eucharist-for-All glory. Please pray for us that this will be fruitful for us, I want it so badly.
I have never done this before in my life but I yelled at God in the kitchen yesterday to HELP ME BE CALM WITH THESE CHILDREN YOU GAVE ME I HAVE ASKED YOU FIVE HUNDRED TIMES. It felt disrespectful but I was inspired by Anne LaMott, who said God can take it.
Lately, it has meant a lot to me that Jesus often told his disciples "y'all, they're gonna kill me for this" and then kept on doing his ministry. That has given me courage to tell the truth about how dangerous it is to be faithful, and that the faithfulness is worth the danger. Also, the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego sticks with me. They told Nebuchadnezzar - "look you can kill us, but you still can't make us worship you." What a revelation of where true power actually sits - not in the empire (which can only kill you), but in the hands of the quiet and committed faithful.
I keep feeling myself called back to faith -- especially with all the awful things going on lately -- and keep running up against roadblocks of the very fundamental "what it means to be Christian" variety. (Abortion's the big one; I don't believe life begins at conception, I donate to PP without regret and would drive my friends to the clinic in a heartbeat, and that makes me feel like I will never be able to fully give myself over to faith. I even wrote a big, panicky, embarrassing email to Nicole about it and she very sweetly suggested I turn to the community here, so, uh, thank you for your grace in how you handled that, Nicole, I'm sorry!!)
Anyway. How do y'all reconcile those moments in yourself, where you have a strongly-held belief that you will never abandon but that is at odds with the "Christian" thing to do? How can I let myself fully fall into the arms of God when it feels like doing so would make me a giant hypocrite? I can't articulate how much turning my back on this call makes me want to cry, but I also can't articulate how strongly I believe that abortion is not the same as taking a life. I could use some guidance and prayers if you have any to spare.
My brain, unbidden, added a comma in the middle of the post title, making its mental cadence "Jesus, Wednesday." Because, this week so far.
I've been trying to get my social anxiety to shut up enough to visit the church near my house. Their pastor spoke at a local vigil last month, and I couldn't stop thinking about it and her the whole weekend. I was raised in a Quaker meeting, but recently I've been feeling a kind of searching and a need for community and the guidance of other people. So, maybe this weekend I'll get out the door?
I have no idea if he is a practicing Christian or not, but watching Beto O'Rourke's compassionate care for his hometown of El Paso -- as well as his willingness to speak truth to power in calling out the media and the president for their various sins -- has been very moving and consoling to me this week. I had not really paid much attention to him up to now, and still don't think he should be president, but he has impressed me. That love is its own kind of prayer.
My spiritual practice of the week is text banking with resistance labs for gun control advocacy. Yesterday I sent texts to 3000 people. Only about 10 of them were dicks about it and I'm proud to say that I only screamed JESUS DISARMED PETER at two who were being super combative and trying to hid their AR 15s behind the cross like fuckin dick bags. The overwhelming majority of responses were enthusiastic to call their reps. It made me feel buoyant and gave my anxious hands something to do despite my thumb now genuinely hurting from pressing a button.
I've been really uplifted by the @queer.prayers account on instagram. It helps, even if I find poetry embarrassing because of who I am as a person (Capricorn).
I've not been able to listen to music since the shootings this weekend. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Finally: I have started working on gathering admissions documentation for seminary because I think my year long discernment process is finally coming to a a close. I feel a pull from my navel and a kick in my ass towards being a pastor. My head, on the other hand, is like no you'll be so much happier as a mental health counselor because it will be easier and frankly more financially sustainable. To which I hear a small voice saying "when ever did I promise you following Me would be easy." So. Ya know. I think that settles it. But I might wimp out. Jesus will still love me if I wimp out, right? That's His whole deal?
I’m planning to email a Rabbi soon (probably this weekend??) about conversion and am very nervous about it, so any prayers/good thoughts would be appreciated. The sudden appearance of a very insistent G-d has been a real experience coming from complete atheism, but apparently the call is real and I’m heeding it. If anyone has any good conversion narratives to Judaism, I’m always looking for more books to read.
I especially always try to listen to this part of the Amida:
יִהְיוּ לְרָצוֹן אִמְרֵי פִי וְהֶגְיוֹן לִבִּי לְפָנֶיךָ,
May the sayings of my mouth and the thoughts of my heart find favor before You
Helps to remind me not to gossip!
I have too many jumbled thoughts to try and untangle them into something coherent right now, but I just wanted to say thank you for Jesus Wednesdays. I've been away for a really long time after being raised and educated through college in a super conservative evangelical tradition. I've always figured I'd probably come back someday, but I have majorly avoided doing any real spiritual work because of my intense existential fear. Anyway. All that to say that reading Jesus Wednesdays is my version of church right now, and I'm glad it's here. It gives me hope that maybe I'll be able to figure it out again someday.
I'm normally the type to chat with Skydaddy (nickname's source unknown but high-five to them) as if he's with me. Sitting in the passenger seat of my car. Across the table. Just a part of my life. Then last week, a friend got terrible news after terrible news, and my heart shattered for her. For the first time in my life, I felt the need to prostrate myself and beg for help. My mind was racing, so my prayers were scattered and just felt like panic, so I asked for help praying.
I've never had this feeling before. It was this overwhelming "you need to do this NOW" drive to be on the floor.
I was just thinking the other day that God and Jesus get a lot of attention, but the Holy Spirit is treated like the ghost that hangs out in the rafters and speaks up sometimes. But it's so much more than that. There is power there.
I had an interview this morning for a job that I would uniquely be exactly perfect for and I would love y’alls prayers.
I've been sitting with these beautiful Old Testament passages where God gushes about how much he loves the house of Israel and a) I really love harping on how "angry-Old-Testament-God" is an anti-Semitic trope for people who can't handle how much God loves Jews and b) rn I really need a vision of people in pain rebuilding their ruined cities and rejoicing in them. Anyway, today's passage is Amos 9:14: "I mean to restore the fortunes of my people Israel; / they will rebuild the ruined cities and live in them."
I’m leaving for a huge, scary trip in a couple days (climbing Mt Kilimanjaro) and then starting seminary immediately after I return, so all my prayers have been the desperate, terrified prayers of someone who is in way over their head.
But I’ve also been diving into tarot as a way to access what God’s saying to me because I have a lot of trouble listening in the silence. (It’s something I’d like to work on, but right now is a time to grab hold of what works.) I did a simple reading yesterday (my birthday) to look at what I’m being called to in the year to come, and I’ve never felt so clearly that God is making A Point (TM) through my tarot cards. The point: Trust in your support system, listen to elders in your community, and you’ll be fine. So I’m still terrified and in over my head, but I’m trying to trust that God’s got me.
I'm Mennonite & lately I feel a more positive current of energy surrounding me - I've been trying to respond by spending more time in prayer and meditation (I woke up at 4am today just to make sure I could get it in before work). I don't quite understand what is happening but I will take it! I need healing in my life and maybe I'm in a place where I'm ready to receive it.
My love for God and Jesus is rooted in my love for worship music. Even as a Catholic who doesnt make it to services much anymore - I have a tortured relationship with the Church for its well documented failings but other religious traditions don't speak to me in the same way that Catholicism's pomp and high drama do - I can hear the first chords of On Eagles Wings and just lose my collective mind.
I had a conversation last week with my Dad, who is one of my favorite humans and who understand God in a deep, deep, beautiful way. He kept reminding me that the way Jesus often made a difference was uniquely individual, one person at a time, meeting them where they were at and loving them. I feel so small and insignificant and like there's nothing I can do to stem the tide of overwhelming grossness and hate and trauma in the world. And I said something like "I feel like I should probably go become a community organizer because they're actually making a difference in the world", to which he replied "well, is God asking you to do that? Because if God is, then drop everything and do it now. And if God isn't, then you risk doing something you only *think* you're supposed to do... which is a pretty dumb reason to do something." That was reassuring, and gave me peace that yes, God wants me to be where I am. No, I won't stop protesting and challenging authority and calling out institutional racism and misogyny with each person I come into contact with. Yes, God is hoping I'll love the person next to me (even if they are super-evangelical-president-loving-hate-mongers). No, God doesn't think I'm cooler than the person next to me, but loves us all EXACTLY THE SAME. Yes, my best chance at making a difference is one person at a time, one relationship at a time, one interaction at a time, over and over and over again. No, it's not immediately satisfying, but the long slow work of love usually doesn't have big giant fireworks and rewards. It was another small step towards peace and faith for me.
I’VE MET WALLACE
I'm not really religious anymore (grew up Lutheran) but I've felt pretty inspired and comforted by your witness lately, Nicole. I also attended a childhood friend's ordination the Friday before last and I really admire her conviction, especially when she ties social justice to Jesus. I follow a few pastors with similar ideologies and I feel a little less cynical about it all.
I listened to "God's Not Dead" by Newsboys this weekend and was just a wreck given the events happening at the same time. It's kind of a shame that it's tied to such a terrible hokey movie because the song actually really fucking slaps and I think its message is powerful and sustaining. Contemporary Christian pop rock continues to be my remaining tether to the faith and I'm okay with that.
I'm entering year three of a big faith overhaul, which has been really scary; and this year in particular, my mom was diagnosed with breast canter and my best friend/roommate went into renal failure (I would love if y'all could pray for them both!) And the world has been hurting more than usual lately.
So I've been crying a lot, and then crying more. I've been really sad and afraid, and I've felt deeply ashamed and guilty about being sad and afraid. Somewhere in my childhood in the Church I got this idea that it's shameful/sinful to be sad, or scared, or to doubt God's goodness or very existence.
I would love to be able to turn to the Bible, but that's also kind of scary, so I'm very grateful for my mothers and fathers in the faith, especially Saint Ambrose, who wrote this wonderful sermon http://www.newadvent.org/fathers/34031.htm in the midst of his grief over his brother's death. He says, "...we have not incurred any grievous sin by our tears. Not all weeping proceeds from unbelief or weakness." When I first read that line, I cried for like an hour. I was so relieved and grateful to have permission to cry. If you struggle with scruples and shame, I hope it helps you too. <3
As a gay Catholic, and a Jesuit-type Catholic, I am currently yelling at the brokenness of the institutional Catholic Church preventing a high school from celebrating the Eucharist as a whole school community for refusing to fire a married, gay teacher (the Brebeuf situation). I was filled with so much joy and love for my church when this Jesuit school stood their ground, stood by this teacher, even at the cost of being 'kicked out' of the diocese. I don't know what to do with my hope and joy when the cost was the public celebration of the Eucharist, except have faith that God is hurting with me.
Oh this thread. Y'know, one of my favourite mantras is "shut up and listen." I am often angry when I don't think I have heard from God in a while, because it would be nice to get a hint of which way to turn, especially when it seems like half the world - spouse/progeny/the large organization I help run - is looking to me for guidance.
And then I find this thread in my inbox and I remember to shut up and listen, because God is telling me things through the people (like you and your readers) I encounter without trying too hard. I go to church - the church my parents selected for me, because it's comfortable, even when I disagree with a lot of things said there - and I suss out what message is coming directly for me and that's important. But to believe in God means believing in the people he created and to believe that there is something to be learned from all of them.
All of this is to say thanks for this thread. My dog is cuter than all of those, but I won't hold it against anyone.
I want to so badly reconnect with God as my life is about to change so drastically and I'm still dealing with the same trauma that's plagued me all my life. I don't know how. Do I buy a Bible? Do I sit and listen? Do I write?
have been thinking many things about God lately. about how both the immediacy of God's true and present love, and the pervasive doubt that there is anything other than the claustrophobically mundane, are equally terrifying to me. how it is sometimes just as easy to be afraid of the light as of the dark, of the revealed as of the hidden - because if there is nothing, then what horror; and if there is indeed God's presence and love, then what awe and terror there too: how presumptuous must I be to pretend to know His will, how shameful to remake God into the mere idea of God, into my own image. how diminishing. what a feeble understanding I have of the greatest force to ever be. in the presence of some One so incomprehensible what can I do? thank God there is something more to this world, but how frightening that there is something more than what I can understand.
have been thinking a lot about God's I AM, about how He does not change His mind, for there is no mind to change; how He simply and fully IS, how we only need a name to use because we have no other way to give language to the Lord; how a prayer for help is not petitioning for God to appear - because God is here always, because God simply IS always - but is rather a petition that we may find a way to turn ourselves toward Him, to allow ourselves to glimpse or feel or grasp a small fragment of what already is around us and acting within us. how it is tempting to despair at how overwhelming it is. how it is difficult and yet more good to remember that His excess love and His unceasing presence is the reason I am here at all. how He is fearsome and immense and abstract but is also All in All, how he Is the good.
how love and happiness are not the same thing; how love and safety are not the same thing; how we are called to love without reward. how we are called not to follow a set of rules for the sake of rule following, for the promise of a better life, but to act only out of love, out of honor of a love so close it suffuses us.
usually I pray and meditate on Franz Wright poems but I came across a Marie Howe poem this week that is speaking to me. it is called Annunciation.
"Even if I don't see it again - nor every feel it
I know it is - and that if once it hailed me
it ever does
And so it is myself I want to turn in that direction
not as towards a place, but it was a tilting
within myself,
as one turns a mirror to flash the light to where
it isn't - I was blinded like that - and swam
at what shone at me
only able to endure it by being no one and so
specifically myself I thought I'd die
from being loved like that."
I have been feeling very distrustful of my own mind lately - worried that i cannot connect with god or hear from him because how do I know if i'm not just making everything up? as a typically very articulate person, i hate the feeling that i cannot put into words this interior knot in my brain that seems to attack my ability to know my "true" self
On the advice of you, Nicole, I've just started reading Take this Bread! The tears have already arrived, just in the prologue. I've been taking communion for about ten years now, so I'm hoping this book will help me embrace the miracle and meaningfullness of it. I'm also working through the book of Job, which is facilitating my yelling at God at the state of the world and how hopeless it all seems.
I just wanted to say thank you for this thread and for Jesus Wednesdays. I can count on the fingers of one hand the people I can stand to talk about religion with in real life, because my personal conception of God (practicing Catholic, Jesuit-educated, Jesus and I see other people but still talk all the time) gets yelled at a lot and argued with and it's hard to explain to people who were taught never to question God that I may pray to the saints for intercession but my prayers also sometimes take the form of YOU ARE BEING SUCH A SCHMUCK RIGHT NOW MY HOLY DUDE. And here you all are figuring it out and being good to each other and it's nice to have a place to feel free to say the difficult things and wrestle with them and know that makes me no less a Christian.
I finished “Take This Bread” (on Nicole’s recommendation) a few weeks ago. I’ve been thinking a lot since then about how Miles frames Psalm 118 (117 LXX):22 — “The stone the builders rejected…” — as a comment not only on grace abiding in grubby and unexpected, but as an emphasis on how WE are all rejected stones with a chance to become the cornerstone.
I’m now (ALSO on Nicole’s recommendation) reading Cloud & Townsend’s “Boundaries” and boy oh boy is it stirring up interesting new conversations in therapy.
I also went to confession a few weeks ago at an excellent church I go to whenever I visit friends in another city, and I’m a little annoyed at God for the spiritual care at my own weekly parish being so… perfunctory by comparison.
I have been reading in Acts over the past couple weeks and I'm so struck, as I usually am, by Paul's conversion. A man who had truly persecuted the saints--tracking them down, arresting them, binding them, delivering them to "justice"--to such an extent that when he was called out, and set right, everyone was extremely confused.
"I am Jesus whom thou persecutest: it is hard for thee to kick against the pricks." I am taking some comfort from Paul's journey and mission. If the worst of us can turn into the best of us, whether that's me kicking against small daily pricks, or another child of God who has done some truly despicable things, there's more hope, more love, more to come, even good, wonderful things ahead.
My jams of late have been the ones like Blessed Assurance, Lift Every Voice & Sing, I Surrender All sung in the African American holiness church tradition of my youth. I sing them and think of the generations before me who endured so much during Jim Crow America. It gives me hope and manages to break in two. Here's a lovely rendition from Cece Winans: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fiSkmbzS4nw
This thread is giving me LIFE, y'all.
Ah Nicole. I teach at a Christian college and read great theology and I’ve felt utterly disconnected from God for a loooong time. I keep plodding on knowing my disconnect is not evidence of anything other than me being a pissy little git. I’ve often thought of getting a spiritual director but I never do. And my spouse is a firm “unbeliever” who tends to receive any spiritual habits I want to develop as Time stolen from him. I head into a new job with a new faith community and I feel as I have for most of my life: both committed and dedicated, and spiritually dead.
The fact that the world is burning does not help.
This was a downer. Sorry folx. :-(
Lately, I have been really searching for something. I think I know it's God, but after all the trauma and misery I know it has to look different than what it was before. I thought about trying a Quaker church and even looked into the idea of taking a Judaism class at one of the synagogues here, but my heart just doesn't know. Of course I worry too that if I'm not rooted in your standard church denomination or if I were to convert that I would lose my place in heaven which feels silly but inescapable as a fear. It's been sitting with me for some time to the point that Rich Mullins' My Deliverer played on a podcast and I burst into tears at my desk completely overcome by a very deep sense of longing. Anyway, it's hard. I am alone where I am and don't have a connection to someone who also Gets It so I've painted and sat with this. [deleted original because of some weird phrasing]
My mother and I have been attending our (Lutheran) church for about 2 years now, and the pastor just put her name up for candidacy for church council! I’m very proud of her and the community she’s helped build and invigorate since we came to this church. And I’m looking forward to meddling in church affairs by proxy *steeples fingers*
I have been listening quite a lot lately to the song "Reckless Love" by Cory Asbury because if nothing else, it reminds me how deeply God loves me, despite everything, in a way I could never fully grasp. It comes close, though. In my more vulnerable moments it's a song that makes me cry - not tears of sadness or even of happiness, but just... emotion, if that even makes sense? It feels like an experience of love every time I hear it.
"Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending reckless love of God." ❤
https://youtu.be/Sc6SSHuZvQE
encouraging, devastating, uplifting...been drawn to this hymn for awhile, for personal, national, global reasons.
https://books.google.com/books?id=PlkXAAAAIAAJ&pg=PA183&dq=%22the+right+must+win+oh,+it+is+hard%22&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiShaWZp_HjAhUyAZ0JHfyJCawQ6AEwAHoECAQQAg#v=onepage&q=%22the%20right%20must%20win%20oh%2C%20it%20is%20hard%22&f=false (I think that link should take you to it)
Thrice blest is he to whom is given
The instinct that can tell
That God is on the field when He
Is most invisible.
...
God's glory is a wondrous thing,
Most strange in all its ways,
And, of all things on earth, least like
What men agree to praise.
As He can endless glory weave
From what men reckon shame,
In His own world
He is content To play a losing game.
Muse on His justice, downcast soul !
Muse and take better heart ;
Back with thine angel to the field,
And bravely do thy part.
God's justice is a bed, where we
Our anxious hearts may lay,
And, weary with ourselves,
may sleep Our discontent away.
And right is right, since God is God;
And right the day must win...
I have been loving reading prayers from "The Valley of Vision" whenever I start to feel overwhelmed at work. There's something about reading words that do not come naturally to me, but ring true, that brings so much peace to my spirit.
BTW Nicole, if you have not read The Ragamuffin Gospel by Brendan Manning, you should. I really like his writings but that one particularly.
Thinking constantly about this line from "God of Grace and God of Glory" -- "Save us from weak resignation/to the evils we deplore," and, from the same hymn "Grand us wisdom, grant us courage, for the living of these days."
I find Psalm 37 to be comforting and inspiring these days, especially lines 17-18 "for the power of the wicked will be broken, but the Lord upholds the righteous."
This morning my browser suggested <a href="https://www.espn.com/womens-college-basketball/story/_/id/27297631">the ESPN story</a> about Shelly Pennefather's silver jubilee as a cloistered nun.
I was in tears. The beauty of being committed to prayer and confident in your decision. The love that connects us through our separations.
I was having my time with God today and came across my notes from an old message about doubt and how doubting is normal and how God loves us through our doubt and I don't know if anyone else is dealing with doubt because the world is so so terrible, but here is the link to the audio: https://radiopublic.com/lifegate-church-podcast-Gb27p5/ep/s1!e144f
I’m back! My dear friend and genius Hannah Shanks wrote this. It reminds me of who we are supposed to be:
https://www.evangelicalsforsocialaction.org/compassion-and-justice/mothers-border-named-jocheved/
Leaning on the Everlasting Arms has gotten me through a lot and there are so many wonderful recordings out there - Mahalia especially. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Mb0XA2BDx0
I just said goodbye to my Chicago church family on Sunday. I'm excited and mostly scared to find a new one in New York City. Fear not, indeed.