"Real Struggle Marks Us For Life"

    Writing is a time consuming endeavor and I enjoy the process greatly. However, I like to write when I feel inspired and lately I have not found much inspiration worthy of sharing. So I have decided to ask other people in my life to share their stories as guest bloggers from time to time. My first guest blogger is Julie Bracken. She has a powerful story to tell and I believe that her life and story will be a strength and encouragement to many. Thank you Julie for sharing your life experience with us!

Julie Bracken
    
      I am the only child of northern European parents. My dad was an engineer at Boeing in Seattle; my mom was a stay-at-home mother.  My dad was raised Methodist, but didn’t attend. My mom was a strong, quiet Lutheran woman who took me to church every Sunday. Our life when I was young was comfortable, both financially and personally.

     In 1970, when I was fourteen years old, my mother died suddenly of a brain aneurysm; the cause of her death I only found out years later. My father was destroyed by the loss.  He couldn’t talk to me about what had happened, or what would happen in the future. He arranged to have women from mom’s church come in the next day, even before the funeral, and remove all of my mom’s clothes and many of her personal belongings. It was as if he tried to make our life seem like my mother had never existed.

     The whole experience, from that first day and for many years to come, was a struggle for me. I didn’t cry for her; no one told me that I could. I put on a happy face and I worked hard to be a responsible, straight A student like I had always been.

     I quit going to church; mom wasn’t there to take me. But I never quit praying. Right after her death I would pray to God daily to never allow her memory, what she looked like, to slip from my mind. I had no photographs and dad left none in the house. I was frightened that I would lose the only vision I had of her.

     My struggle with her death was a process, not a single event.  In Scarred by Struggle, Transformed by Hope, Joan Chittister says that struggle always happens just when it seems we have everything we ever wanted. She writes, “It is a sudden, unforeseen interruption of our perfect lives, the thing we thought would never happen to us…”. 

     Having not processed her death adequately, I wandered for years unable to feel emotions; either happy or sad, either delighted or broken. In this darkness of my spirit I wrestled with feelings; the anger that comes with a loss and the feeling of abandonment.

     But I couldn’t express this struggle outward. I never spoke of my mom, her death, or my longing for her. I never spoke of my struggle.  And, as might be expected, the weight of that struggle tore me down. Chittister says, “Struggle is never done without cost.  Real struggle marks us for life”. 

     It took decades, but recently I was able to confide in a psychologist what I had kept secret for so many years. And, while the loss has been processed and the emotions shared, it can never be undone. 

     I had guilt about my mom’s death. I knew I didn’t kill her. But as a child I believed that my struggle, my feeling of loss, must have been something that I brought on myself; I should have been able to make the pain go away. Forgiveness is not just for the other guy, as N.T. Wright wrote in Evil and the Justice of God, I first need to forgive myself. He says that if God has forgiven me, as part of living an authentically Christian life, I must forgive myself as well. I know that I am often hard on myself; that I expect myself to be a better person. My failure to express my emotions after mom’s death was a struggle.  It is through seeing God’s forgiveness of my sins that I need to learn to forgive myself. 

     In Jerry Sittser’s book, A Grace Disguised, he writes, “We cannot change the situation, but we can allow the situation to change us. We exacerbate our suffering needlessly when we allow one loss to lead to another. That causes gradual destruction of the soul”. The loss of my mother lead to the loss of or the inability to express my emotions appropriately.  Sittser says that this is the loss that happens inside us, the second death.

     Sittser goes on to say that we must enter the darkness of loss alone, but once there we will find others with whom we can share life together.  He says that “when people suffering loss do find community, it comes as a result of conscious choices they and other people make”. After many years of struggling I made the choice to seek out help, to share my loss, and thereby start the process of emotional healing.

     Chittister says that “Hope, the response of the spiritual person to struggle, takes us from the risk of inner stagnation, of emotional despair, to total transformation of life”.  And most importantly, she says that, “Hope is a series of small actions that transform darkness into light.  It is putting one foot in front of the other when we can find no reason to do so at all”. 

     I also believe that we have all known resurrection in our lives.  Each of us has been crucified in one way or another.  And we’ve all been raised up again. 

     Throughout my struggle I often asked “Why”. But, in the light of everything I have been given, I have no grounds for blaming God for my loss.  The call to faith is not the call to surrender to a God who tries creation for the sake of trial.  It is a call to believe, as Jacob who struggles through the night, that though we are in darkness, the dawn will come in its due time.  With the help of the Holy Spirit, we need to look into the struggle to find out what the blessing is.  I believe that if God is in the depth of the heart, no amount of darkness can extinguish that presence.

     It was a difficult transformation to relive my mother’s death and appreciate the hidden emotions associated with it.  I can now talk freely about her death, my loss, and my feeling of abandonment.  I also can express my emotions about other situations in my life. It was a long struggle. And even though the suffering is less now, I know that I will forever long for the closeness of my mother in my life. 

“When we suffer, we long for it to end. When we are in pain, time crawls. It also darkens and imprisons our imagination; consequently, we are unable to see beyond the suffering that plagues us…Unlike the world of matter, in the world of spirit a whole territory that has lain fallow can become a fertile area of new potential and creativity.  Time behaves differently in the domain of spirit.”  

                  John O’Donohue in To Bless the Space Between Us.

Remembering my Dad

   

   

Philip Andersen

   I have been thinking a lot about my dad lately. He was and is such a great influence in my life. I know that there are many people who have had the misfortune of losing their mom or dad at a young age but I was blessed to share life with my dad for fifty years. Seven years ago my dad took his last breath. His last words were, "I love you" spoken to my mom. I was not there when he left us and I will always wish that I had been present with him at this moment. 

     My dad taught me how to fully embrace life. Whatever he was doing, he would put his whole heart into it. Growing up in his shadow was challenging. He was a fierce competitor in every way. This brought him a lot of success in his lifetime. He did not believe in giving up and this was evident in the way he lived and in the way he died.

     My dad experienced much suffering in his life. When he was a small boy, his little sister, June died. Whenever he spoke of her I could see and hear the love and affection he had for her and the grief the he carried. He grew up in a small town in Iowa and had many siblings. He was the youngest living child and was his mama's baby, even when he grew to be six foot four inches tall. She would often introduce him as her baby. 

     One summer, when my dad was home from college, he met "the girl next door" to his parents. He fell in love and married that girl. After a few years they began having children. When my oldest sister, Susan, was born there were complications during the birth, and so she suffered brain damage. My parents would not discover this until much later. As she grew, she did not develop skills as quickly as other children. It soon became apparent that something was wrong. My parents spent  years going to doctors and hospitals to help Susan. It was a very difficult time with deep suffering. One day my mom answered the phone and it was the hospital calling to tell her that my sister had died. She had been in the hospital recovering from surgery. This call came out of the blue. My parents had just been with her the day before and they were not expecting her to die. The shock of her death sent my parents reeling into deep grief. I know that they always wished that they had been present with Susan when she took her last breath. My sister died at the age of seven. Her life and death set the stage for my childhood. 

     

Connie and Susan

Two years after Susan was born, my sister, Connie came into the world. Her birth was a fast and furious one. I have often heard the story from my mom of the nurses telling her to keep her legs together until the doctor arrived. The fifties were such an interesting time for women in childbirth. Obviously the medical profession did not understand natural childbirth. Connie became mom's little helper. She had to help with Susan who was a hand full and then I came along and so she had to help with me as well.  I was the third girl to be born and because of a difficult birth my mother would have no other children. So I became the closest thing to a boy that my dad would ever have. He taught me how to play many sports and I was encouraged to be a strong, assertive person and to not show weakness. 

     After Susan's death, my dad worked hard to take care of his grieving wife and two small daughters. Unfortunately, I don't think he knew what to do with his own grief. Within the next few years my dad's parents died and also my mom's dad died. As I was growing up, I watched my dad grow angry. I did not understand what he was so angry about. I was to young to connect the dots of his suffering that finally led him down that path of anger. I was very young when he was walking through those dark valleys and so when he started to release his anger I was puzzled. 

     My dad had his first heart attack when I was fourteen years old. I was away at camp and got a phone call that my dad was in the hospital. I wished that I had been home so that I could be present with him. I remember walking into his hospital room and thinking that he looked very old and grey. It was scary. He spent the rest of his life suffering with a broken heart. A few years later my dad's oldest brother, Peter, underwent open heart surgery. Sadly, he died on the operating table. I watched my dad fall to pieces when he heard the news. This was a whole side of my dad that I had never seen before. All of the pain and grief that he had bottled up inside burst like the breaking of a dam. I held him in my arms as he sobbed. 

     It wasn't long before my dad's heart disease had progressed and it was his turn to have surgery. He was so scared. He was afraid that he would die just like his brother. Seeing him before his surgery was a powerful moment. I saw my big strong dad in a very vulnerable state. He was very openly affectionate and told us how much he loved us. It was clear that he thought he may never see us again. Fortunately the operation was a success and my dad lived to see his grandchildren grow into adulthood. He was a fabulous grandad. He took great interest in each of his grandchildren and was a strong and powerful presence in their lives. We spent many years going on vacations together and I will cherish all of the sweet memories of those times.

     My dad was such a fighter. When he was seventy-five years old, he was out golfing one day when his heart suddenly stopped. He just happened to be golfing with a friend of his who was a doctor and so his friend administered CPR for fifteen minutes until the ambulance arrived. Laying there on the golf course, the paramedics had to shock his heart twice to get him back. We were later told that the paddles only work about one in every hundred tries. My dad was not ready to leave us. At the hospital the doctor told us that my dad would probably not live through the night and if he did live that he would probably not have any brain function. He did live through the night and then spent the next five weeks in the ICU fighting to stay alive. It was quite an emotional roller coaster ride for the rest of the family. One day he was up and the next day he was down. While he was fighting for life, my sister Connie graduated from seminary. Even though my dad could not be there to witness this moment, his spirit was with us. We were all so proud of Connie for her accomplishment but I know that it was bittersweet for her that day because my dad could not be there. He would have been the proudest of all. He did finally make a full recovery. The trauma had taken a toll on his body, but his mind was as sharp as ever. I watched my dad spend the next five years, until his death, reflecting on his life. He went through a spiritual transformation as he made peace with the life that he had lived. I had many thoughtful conversations with him during those final years of his life. I wish now, that I could have a few more. Those last five years gave him the chance to see two of his grandchildren graduate from college. He also got to dance at his grandson's wedding. I'm glad that he fought to stay with us. We all miss him so much.

    To be human is to love. To be human is to suffer. Love and suffering go hand in hand. The greater you love the more you will suffer. Losing those we love through death is the greatest suffering of all. And yet we would not trade the life that we shared with them for anything. It is this shared life that we carry with us forever. As I said earlier, my dad still influences my life through the memories I carry. He is a part of me and I see his influence in the lives of my children and grandchildren. 

     As I write these words, two of my cousins are fighting for life. My cousin Jeri has been clinging to life because of the great love that she has for her family and friends. She has endured great suffering over that past year as cancer has invaded her body. She has not let it take her without a fight. Again we are experiencing the reality of love and suffering together. For those of us that know Jeri, we share in her suffering because we love her.

     My cousin Julie is suffering with a broken heart. She has suffered from a heart attack and cardiac arrest. She has endured much suffering in her lifetime. I feel that pain that she and her family are experiencing right now. Julie is a kind-hearted soul. I remember her as a child and how much she loved her family. She was always happy to see you. As she lays in her hospital bed clinging to life we are once again seeing love and suffering mixed together.

     Because my dad came from such a large family, I have lots of cousins. My dad loved all of his nieces and nephews and so I was blessed to know my cousins and have a relationship with them while I was growing up. Even though as an adult I have not spent much time with my cousins, because of my dad, I carry them in my heart. My dad was always moved with deep compassion for those whom he saw suffering. He would always move toward them and be present in their suffering. He passed this desire to relieve suffering on to me and my sister. I am thankful for that legacy.

     
     Today is Veteran's Day and it is also my dad's birthday. He loved it that his birthday fell on a holiday. He was also a veteran. He loved to celebrate life and so today I celebrate him. 

Happy Birthday Dad, I love you. 

   

Forever Young?

     

Catherine Eula Andersen

     I was born in 1957. Today I am 57 years old. I have been thinking about how good it is to be alive. Getting older is a privilege that I want to fully embrace. They say that you shouldn't ever ask a woman how old she is. Why not? As I grow older I am thankful for each new day. We live in a culture that worships youth. There are many great things about being young. The younger you are, the less time you have been exposed to the suffering in the world. The innocence of a child is a beautiful thing. The younger you are, the more your body responds well to life. These are wonderful times in life to be savored and fully enjoyed. But I do not want to be forever young. 

     

     I do not wear makeup or color my hair to give myself a more youthful appearance. I do not necessarily believe that these are wrong or bad things to do. I just prefer to age naturally and the freedom that this brings. How I look is not who I am. I have been given the gift of 57 years and in those years I have had many adventures and life experiences that I could not have had if I stayed forever young. Life is a progression. If we choose to progress through life naturally we will see changes occur in our outward appearance. I am choosing to embrace those changes and learn to love who I am. Without my gray hair and my wrinkled skin, I would not be here. I need my body to live on the earth. So I choose to love the body that I have instead of seeking after an ideal image of what my culture says I should look like. I have played that game and it is impossible to win. 

     Jesus had something to say to those who spent to much time cleaning up the outside without concern for what is happening on the inside: 

“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean. “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean. In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness.
                                                                   Matthew 23:25-28

     

Joan Rivers

     Recently, comedian, Joan Rivers passed away at the age of 81. I grew up listening to her telling jokes and poking fun at life. She was very good at making us laugh. I also heard her talk about her appearance and that she would be working hard until the day she died to appear forever young. This makes me sad. She had to go through many surgeries to keep up her appearance. I wish she could have been free from the fear and shame of aging that our culture dishes out to us. I wish that she could have been her true self on the outside as well as the inside. In the end her body was tired and it did not matter what she looked like.

Eula Smith

     My grandmother lived to be nearly 96 years old. She was one of the most beautiful people I have ever known. She was influenced by her culture and she did care about how she looked. She was a snappy dresser and had a great sense of style. I loved that about her. However, what I loved about her more, was her spirit. She was full of energy and vitality. She always had time for me and she was one of the best listeners I have ever known. She taught me how to listen well. She would not have liked this photo very much because you can see her age. I love this photo of her because you can see her age. I am glad that she lived such a long life. Her influence in my life continues.

     Now I am a Spiritual Director, which is basically a listener. The purpose of meeting with a spiritual director is to nurture ones inner life.  I listen to people's lives unfold as they tell me their stories. I have the privilege of participating in the spiritual growth that transpires when people take the time to look deeper at their lives. I love what I do.  I am also a listener for many other people in my life. I listen to my husband as we walk together through life. I listen to my children as they share the many ups and downs of young adulthood. I listen to my grandchildren as they tell me their stories with great excitement. I listen to my mom and my mother-in-law as they live out their old age and the challenges that this time brings. And I listen to my friends who bring me strength and encouragement along the way. This is how I choose to love others. I give them my time and attention. I trust God to give them the spiritual nourishment that they need.

      So today I am celebrating my life! I look forward to what is ahead of me. I do not know where life will take me next and so I must wait and watch my life unfold. 

Cheers!

Robin Williams RIP

   

       Yesterday we all received the deeply sad news that Robin Williams took his own life. He truly was the man that was "laughing on the outside while crying on the inside." Over the years I have seen many interviews that he gave on various talk shows. If you listened to him and witnessed his body language it was not difficult to see his suffering. He was a tortured man. Yes, he did make us laugh with his quick wit and amazing timing and we can be thankful for these moments of joy that he brought into our lives. But now we mourn that we could not relieve his pain. Because most of us did not know him on a personal level we are left to wonder what his deep suffering was all about and why he could not find relief. 

     Suffering is a part of the human condition. We all suffer in many ways. Some of us try to conceal our pain through laughter. Others of us hide our suffering through prestige. These are just a couple of ways that we combat the pain in our lives, there are many others to numerous to mention. Why do we do this? I think it is because we don't want to be a burden to others with our pain. So what alternative do we have if we choose to bear our burdens in isolation?

     There are many ways that we learn to cope with suffering like numbing the pain through addictions and compulsions. We trick ourselves into believing that these vises will bring relief. Unfortunately, what they often bring is more suffering. In our culture our methods of coping with suffering is overeating, excessive drinking or the acceptable method of taking prescribed drugs. We are encouraged to run from our suffering as if this will bring the relief that we are seeking. 

     I have discovered an alternative to these approaches that have personally brought great relief of suffering in my life. Finding good professional counselors  and spiritual directors can help you find your way through the darkness. It is vital to have good friends and family to walk with you but having a place to process your life with an outside source can be truly enlightening and freeing. I personally chose to walk into the darkness of my soul because I longed to be free from the things that plagued me. I still have much work to do on this journey through the darkness but each new step brings life to my soul. 

     If you have never received any kind of professional counseling but are wanting to look at your life in a deeper way I would suggest finding a spiritual director. Meeting with a trained spiritual director is different than going to a therapist. We are all spiritual beings and meeting in spiritual direction is about attending to your soul. Spiritual Directors are not trained to treat mental illness but rather to be a healer of the soul. As a spiritual director this is the desire of my heart. I long to bring relief to those who suffer and usher in freedom, joy and peace to all those who walk through my door. I count it a sacred privilege to walk with spiritual seekers on their journey toward healing and wholeness.

     Robin Williams was a celebrity that came to us through movies and television and so we collectively mourn his death. But their are countless others among us who are struggling with depression and despair that need our love and support. It is so easy to be blind to the suffering in the world around us. According to the CDC, suicide is on the rise in our country.  Suicide has risen in people from ages 35 to 64 by 30% in recent years. It takes courage to look at your life deeply with another. If you need help in finding your way through the darkness be kind to yourself and take a step toward healing your soul. Or if someone you know needs a listening companion help them take that step toward healing. We need each other. 

Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.
                                                                     Galatians 6:2

Remembering July

     

Last year we decided to raise our own fresh meat. So we purchased a 400 pound calf and named him July. Our friends, who are experienced at raising animals for food, encouraged us to name him something as a reminder of what his purpose was in our lives. We decided on July because that would be the month of his departure.

     This past year I have learned a lot about bovine creatures that I was never privy to before this encounter. I was not aware of the deep social needs of these animals. When we bought July, we were told that they do much better in pairs. But what were we going to do with all that meat? My practical mind told me that one 1300 pound animal was enough. So we stuck with buying just one steer. 

     As time went on and July began to grow he started getting lonely. The only company that he had were our chickens and our dog Rusty, who loved licking him in the face. July could often be found laying next to the chicken coup or standing at the fence line so that Rusty could give him a facial. 

     One day, in the dead of winter, he decided that this was just not meeting his social needs and so he jumped the fence into our neighbor's field to spend some time with her sheep and llama. It was quite alarming to this city girl to get a call from the neighbor that our steer was in her yard. So I went over to the neighbor's field and coaxed July back with a bucket of grain. However, when he was back in our field he looked back at his new friends and decided he wasn't ready to come home yet. So he turned around and jumped the fence again. We finally got him home and raised the fence line.

     Another day, I was home alone and sick in bed. The phone rang and another neighbor called and said that our beloved July was out walking on the road. She was kind enough to coax him into our neighbors field until we could get him home. This was many months ago and since that last break out July has calmed down and settled into life on our farm. I enjoyed watching him graze in our fields and he was always interested in our presence.

     Yesterday, the butcher came a calling. I chose not to be present to see him meet his end. I was in the house when I heard the gunshot that took his life. It is never easy to experience death. I am thankful for July giving his life so that I can enjoy organic, grass-fed beef. His sacrifice is bringing new life.

     As I was thinking about these things this morning I was reminded of the death of Jesus. I have heard all of my life that Jesus sacrificed his life through death. When we take communion we say that it is the symbol of the body and blood of Jesus. Before Jesus died he broke the bread and said this is my body, broken for you and this is my blood shed for you. I think that Jesus' use of these symbols were to remind us the he is the giver and sustainer of life. We eat and drink everyday to sustain our lives. Jesus asked us to remember him when we do. Remember where your life comes from. We have been removed from death in our culture, especially when it comes to our food supply. In the ancient world when Jesus spoke these words I think the meaning ran much deeper because of the people's first hand knowledge of death. They didn't go to the supermarket to buy their meat in plastic wrap. They understood that a living being would die so that they could live.

     God has given us life, and the plants and animals that we eat to nourish us are gifts from our Creator. Raising our own beef has given me a much greater appreciation for the sacredness of life. Having first hand knowledge of where my beef came from gives me a thankful heart for the sacrifice of the animal I will be eating. So the next time you have a hamburger, remember that an animal give their life for you and be thankful. 

Those who think one day is special do it to honor the Lord. Those who eat meat do it to honor the Lord. They give thanks to God. Those who don’t eat meat do it to honor the Lord. They also give thanks to God. - Romans 14:6

                            

     

Saying Goodbye

   

Newport Pier July 13, 2014

 Yesterday, thousands of people gathered together to pay tribute to a young lifeguard who gave his life to save someone. Some of these people knew him personally but most of those in attendance were there because they were reminded of fact that this young man gave his life protecting them. I was made aware of this tragedy because my son was one of the many surfers who paddled out into the ocean to say thank you. 

     Looking at this public display of affection took me back to the summer of 2004. Another good man also lost his life keeping others from harms way. That man was my brother-in-law, Brad Crawford. Thousands of people came to his memorial because his death also reminded the community of the fact that there are public servants who risk their lives to protect them. 

     These public displays of honor and thanksgiving are a good way for the community to have closure but for those who are touched personally by theses sudden deaths, this is only the beginning of learning to let go.

     Our family has been walking through this valley of the shadow of death for ten years. Just like a baby who learns to take their first steps, we have had to learn how to walk through our lives without Brad, literally, walking with us. But he is never far from our thoughts. When I look at his children and his grandchildren, I see parts of him shining through. I wish that he could be here to see them growing and changing and share life with us. When someone you love dies, you never get over it, you learn to live with it. Losing someone unexpectedly sends shockwaves through your soul and creates a vacuum for many unanswerable questions. So the path toward peace is long and often rocky at times. Sometimes you stumble and fall and you have to get back up and keep going forward.

     By chance, I met a man and woman this past week who had just experienced the loss of a family member who was shot and killed at work by an angry ex-employee. He was not a public servant. He was just a guy doing his job and was killed by someone else's rage. I suppose his story was on the nightly news and the community felt bad for a bit. As they told me their story, I felt their deep grief and my heart broke for them. Their lives have been changed forever. 

     July 30th will be the tenth anniversary of Brad's death. Each year we think of how we would like to honor him and remember him. Some years we have gone to the site where he was killed. Some years we have gathered together as a family. Some years we when we were not able to be together, we shared photos and memories on Facebook. These are all good ways to remember Brad but there is always that sense of emptiness in the end. These expressions seem a bit inadequate to what is felt in ones heart. 

Maui 2004 

     Brad was originally from southern California so he grew up going to the beach and surfing. He would often let his younger brother, Bruce, tag along. Surfing became a lifelong connection for Brad and Bruce. In 2003, we spent a week at Newport Beach with Brad and his family. Brad and Bruce were now in their forties and still surfing together. Neither one of them were great surfers, but their love of the ocean and riding the waves was all that really mattered. They also got to share this love of the ocean with their children and together, surf with their kids. So when Brad was killed we, as a family had a paddle out of our own on the island of Maui. Ours was an intimate way of saying goodbye to Brad. 

     So what do these sudden losses bring to us? They give us a greater awareness of suffering. They give us a deeper heart of compassion for those who also suffer. They teach us that we are all connected as a human family and that none of us is immune to suffering. They teach is that life is fragile and to treasure each moment. They teach us that without love, there would be no suffering. It is because we love that we suffer. The deeper the love, the greater the suffering. They teach us that to be alive is to experience both joy and sorrow, we can't have one without the other.

     So hold on to your family and friends and love them well. Be grateful to those in your community who serve you and show lovingkindness to them. See the suffering that is all around you and find a way to relieve that suffering. 

Love can change the world!

No one has greater love than the one who gives his life for his friends.  - Jesus

Spiritual Seekers

“A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho. Robbers attacked him. They stripped off his clothes and beat him. Then they went away, leaving him almost dead.  A priest happened to be going down that same road. When he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. A Levite also came by. When he saw the man, he passed by on the other side too.

 But a Samaritan came to the place where the man was. When he saw the man, he felt sorry for him. He went to him, poured olive oil and wine on his wounds and bandaged them. Then he put the man on his own donkey. He took him to an inn and took care of him.  The next day he took out two silver coins. He gave them to the owner of the inn. ‘Take care of him,’ he said. ‘When I return, I will pay you back for any extra expense you may have.’
                                                            Luke 10:30-35 
                                           

     This morning I read the parable of the Good Samaritan. What struck me as I was reading the story is how I identified with the man who was beat up and robbed and left half dead on the side of the road. The great thing about the parables of Jesus is that we can find ourselves in all of the characters at different times in our lives. Today I found myself in two characters. 

     First as the person half dead on the side of the road. This is how I have felt about my experience with the evangelical church. You see, I am a woman and when I made the decision to follow Jesus in my adolescent years, I had no idea where that would take me. The road that I have been traveling on has left me wounded. The hierarchal, male dominated, evangelical world has, at times, left me feeling half dead. I am not just a woman, I am a woman who aspired to leadership in the church. So you can imagine my surprise when I discovered that I was limited as a leader because of my gender. It seems that it was acceptable for me to lead as long as it was under the direction of my husband and we were leading together. In essence, I needed to be somewhat invisible. 

     So after many years of this oppressive situation, I decided to look outside of the church community to find my vocation. I became a school teacher and was pleasantly surprised at how much I was valued in that environment. This was a stark contrast to my experience in the church. So this was my new path and it worked quite well for a few years. 

     In 2005, our family moved to another state because of the tragic and sudden death of my brother-in-law. This life change caused me to take some time and seek God's direction for my life. I had heard about a ministry of spiritual direction and was curious to find out what this was all about. So I went to a week long school of spiritual direction with Dr. Larry Crabb in Colorado. He told me that if I wanted to be a Spiritual Director vocationally then I would need to be credentialed.  So the next step was for me to attend George Fox Evangelical Seminary. To be honest, I never intended to look toward the church again for affirmation or calling vocationally. 

     I spent my years in seminary looking closely at how God sees women and how God sees me. I also met with a Spiritual Director. Over the years, I have met with a few Spiritual Directors and have found healing and wholeness for my soul. They have been my Good Samaritans. 

     You see, the thing about the Samaritans is that they were outside of the temple. The Jewish community hated them and so for the Samaritan to be the hero was an assault to the Jews listening to this story. I did not find empowerment from my previous Pastors (the priest in the parable), instead I got beat up. I was told that I was ambitious and impatient and as a woman, I would never be one of them. I did not find empowerment from the elders in my church (the Levite in the parable) instead I was ignored. I admit that I was ambitious and that I can be very impatient sometimes. I am reminded of the words of Martin Luther King Jr. He was a man of great patience and yet understood that patience does not mean accepting injustice anywhere you find it. When you point out injustice, you make enemies.

"We have no alternative but to protest. For many years we have shown an amazing patience... But we come here tonight to be saved from that patience that makes us patient with anything less than freedom and justice."
        - Montgomery, Alabama, December 5, 1955

     I did find empowerment through meeting with my Spiritual Directors. These woman and men helped me to see who I am and who God is. They listened to me and shed light on my life. They were the mercy of God to me.     

     I have been patiently waiting for the evangelical church to see the injustice that is inflicted on women when it comes to leadership. I am tired of arguing over the word pastor and elder. I read a book written by Eugene Peterson several years ago and he defined the true calling of a pastor is first and foremost to be a Spiritual Director.

     So the second person that I relate to in this parable is the Good Samaritan. As a woman in the church I have found myself as an outsider looking in. I have not found the church to be very open and receptive to the ministry of spiritual direction which is essentially a one on one pastoral ministry. I tend to be an idealist and my dream is for the church to catch the vision for the ministry of spiritual direction. However, this has not deterred me from the ministry itself. God has brought me spiritual seekers who are hungry for God and desire to go deeper in their spiritual lives. I now have the privilege of walking with people in the ministry of spiritual direction as a Director. As I sit with individuals and listen to their story unfold, I see the spirit of God transform their lives. I see God bring freedom, and healing to their souls. I see the power of God's love move mountains. I love this ministry and I am blessed by every person that walks through my door to meet with me. When you listen to the heart of another you are entering holy ground. God is the true director in these times and I am a participant. I am grateful to every person that has invited me into this space with them as they journey toward healing and wholeness. I am thankful for my directors who showed me the love, kindness and compassion of Jesus and ushered in healing to my soul.

     Jesus told this parable in response to the question of how to receive eternal life. He answered by telling them to love God with all of their heart, soul, mind and strength and to love your neighbor as you love yourself. The ministry of spiritual direction offers us the opportunity to reflect upon our lives and see how this is or is not a reality in our lives. Jesus said that the kingdom of God is within you. So to take the inward journey is to find the kingdom of God.

If you are looking for a place to seek God's presence through spiritual direction my door is open...