Tag Archives: health

Rhythm & Balance

Posted on
10

It’s dark. It’s early.

And I’m prepping coffee to assist in pumping caffeine through my veins.

Awake and reflecting and writing in the early hours. Stealing time out of my sleep schedule. Pushing my body and mind out of the bed and into creativity. Striving for more. Striving for productivity. Walking away from rest.

——-

It’s dark. It’s late. It’s a world of hush outside.

The lights are on and the TV is chattering. Fast talking and flashing images. My body is tired and asking for rest, but my brain is awake–chasing images across the screen and empathizing with the people and stories.

I’m pumping my mind with more information and stimulation in the name of Entertainment. I am not at rest.

——-

What if I let the rhythm of creation set the tone and time for the rhythm of my day? What if I stilled myself as dusk whispered its light lullaby over the earth? And what if I didn’t stir myself until the birds and creatures began to stir at the sun’s song?

What if I accepted the night for what it was meant to be? A time of stillness and quiet and rest? And I let the day be the day, all flurried with life and survival and activity?

I wonder what would happen to my mind, heart, soul, and body if I followed the rhythm of life instead of fought against it… I want to find out.

 

It’s not “if” you fight, but “how” you fight.

Posted on
11

Drew says that he’d be more worried about our marriage if we didn’t disagree at all. Interesting point. He, and others, really believe that a healthy relationships comes with some conflict. No two people are alike, which means that we will at times disagree with one another.

The secret is in “how” we disagree.

I’ll never forget that day, in my driveway, sitting in his red Honda, and he says that he wants us to learn to fight well. I cringed inwardly. I hate conflict. I want to avoid it altogether. But Drew wanted to make sure that we knew how to have good healthy disagreements.

I’m learning that there are some benefits to disagreements. We have an opportunity to learn more about the other person (who was, thank God, created differently from us), we also get to share parts of ourselves that might not otherwise be exposed. We get to bend and compromise and work as a team towards a shared goal of collaboration and mutual compromise.

And, most importantly, we get to love each other despite our differences.

But, we seem to have distorted views of conflict.

But we need not mistake disagreement for rejection. Or anger for rejection. Or see conflict as a threat of rejection. Its possible for two loving, healthy individuals to disagree on foundational points of life.

Drew likes hanging out with people. I like chilling in the quiet of my home. (surprise)

Drew’s more reformed in his theology. I’m holding my ground as an Arminian. (gasp)

And we still get along. And I still value and respect his pastoral leadership. And his role as my husband.

See? Love reaches over differences, grabs the hand of the person who’s brain is an absolute mystery to us, and says “Even though I think you are weird, let’s still walk together.”

Now go hug somebody today. And tell ‘em that even though they’re weird, you still love ‘em.

(or something like that)

Creating Brain Space

Posted on
5

It’s getting all cluttered in here (my brain, that is) and the words to songs are hiding in all the noise. So I’m going to create some brain space this week.

Lots of it.

I’ll be stepping back. Quieting down. Powering down. And doing some thinking.

And, on return, we’ll startup a community challenge for us for the month of July, and there’ll be a fun giveaway, and all sorts of other warm fuzzinesses.

But you’ll have to wait to find out.

See y’all on the 4th. Have a great week. Thanks for stopping by.

How to find yourself in 30 seconds or less.

Posted on
16

The crickets are still chirping outside, even though dawn moved in about an hour ago. They are stubborn. They are probably begging for the cool of night to stay. I wish my brain had held on to night a bit longer. Morning came too soon, and it brought a headache. A weird headache.

My fingers click the keys with each word, but I don’t often notice. Tap tap tap on “jkl;” as I listen to my own head put words to the sounds my ears are taking in.

The refrigerator. It keeps whirring. Like a fan. Constant. Is it always this loud? I wish it would cool down so I can take in the crickets before the sun warms them into silence. But that whirr…

There’s a thud in my brain that sounds a lot like “I drank too much wine last night.” Only I didn’t. At all. Why this throbbing? Stress? What am I stressed about right now? Ah yes. There are tiny reasons. And there’s a lack of exercise.

And that whirring is getting louder. And it’s starting to ruin my cricket peace. Throb.

With all this awareness, I resolve to exercise today. And take measures that ensure I get more sleep tonight. And head for the Advil. Get out of my way.

Practice the art of listening, moving from outward to inward.

When we really listen with attention and scope, we take in the world with fresh senses. Our awareness is magnified exponentially. We notice signs of life that have always been there, and also notice experiences that come and go at different points in life.  By staring so intently at the world, we begin to see ourselves as well. We realize who we are as we interact with our native world. Our self-awareness peaks.

If you have lost your words, if you are unsure of what to write or express or create, stop and listen. And I don’t mean listen to the refrigerator and crickets. But listen to your own thoughts. Move from outward listening to inward listening. Check your mood, body, anxiety, questions, inner whirring… There’s a lot going on in side of you that you may not be aware of unless you quiet all the other noises and just listen to yourself.

Today’s challenge: take 30 seconds right now. Listen to yourself. What’s going on inside you? What do you hear?

I didn’t ask to be healed.

Posted on
52

We’ve gotten a few reports of healing in our church on Sunday. I don’t know how else to say it than like that. We had an extended time of prayer during our service. And something happened.

Let me provide the context for that starting sentence: We are a contemporary UMC congregation that is growing rather quickly. We’re a t-shirt & jeans kind of church, with a praise band and practical teaching. Not so much “charismatic” but we do believe that God can do (and is doing) incredible things today. And we offer opportunities for our congregation to intersect with this God in a real way. As the staff person to oversee planning of the services, I knew a moment was coming Sunday. We’d allotted a good 15 minutes for people to respond to the sermon by praying–in whatever fashion they desired. And we invited those who wanted prayer for whatever reason, including healing, to come forward.

And when the moment came I thought: I’m a candidate for healing. My body is broken. Infertile. Mysteriously lacking. But I’ve already asked for this. Often. And Drew still prays for this. A lot of people do. And it hasn’t happened. And there’s been ample opportunity for something to happen. And I’m ok with the fact that it hasn’t happened. I’m ok. I’m in the “acceptance” phase of grief, I guess.

I left that thought in the seat and, instead, took my place behind my guitar… In coming to the place of acceptance, I think I’ve stopped wanting/wondering for things to be different. I don’t know if that’s right or wrong, but it’s where I am.

Then I heard about some of the healings that took place on Sunday…

Why not me? Ok. Fine. “Ye have not because ye ask not.” whatever. I asked I asked I asked I asked.

My only response is to continue to accept.