Humility, or when Pride Falleth...

...it can be a long way down!

The preacher at the church I attend has spent the past few Sunday's speaking about humility. It has made me recall my own experience with praying for humility. First, let me say that I had been told a number of times by those wiser than myself never to pray for humility "unless you really mean it." But I was too proud, too sure of myself, to listen to that very wise advise. After all, an answer to the prayer would just be that God would either grant me humility or He would not. Right? I foolishly did not take into account the manner in which God might grant me humility.

A few summers ago, I was in a position that I felt could make me possibly to become quite cocky about myself. My work was doing well. It had gotten some attention and some decent sales. I was scheduled to teach at the national fiber conference, Convergence, in the summer. During that conference my work would be shown in a number of exhibits in the area, including one which I had guest-curated for an area Fine Art Center. Realizing that this was a moment in which Pride could rear it's ugly head in my life, I offered up sincere prayers that God would grant me humility during that time.

As the conference and exhibit time drew closer, I became increasingly aware of a sharp pain in my mid-right back. I'd been doing a lot of yard and garden work, so I attributed it to that. I began to baby my back, hoping the pain would ease up before my important trip, but it only got worse. I went to my doctor, who prescribed pain medication, but it didn't seem to help at all. I continued to hope that the pain would abate before the conference. It did not.

While I was at the conference, I had no feelings of Pride at all. My over-riding prayer was "Lord, just get me through this week!" Everything I did there was done while enduring the worst pain I have ever experienced in my life (and I have had two children.) Between teaching and attending exhibits and giving gallery talks, I would go into a bathroom and cry in pain. I called my doctor and begged for a stronger medication, but because I was away from home, she could not prescribe anything. I didn't have the time to go to an Emergency Room, which was what my doctor had recommended. I had driven to the conference with a friend, and I begged her to drive us home in my car, a 5 hour trip over the mountains, as I couldn't drive in the pain I was having or on the medications I was taking which were supposed to help, but didn't.

When I got home, I went to bed for a week. Even flat on my back, the pain wouldn't ease up, no matter what heavy-duty drug I was taking. I went to a chiropractor, who nearly killed me. X-rays were taken. Finally, a physical therapist discovered that one of my ribs had misaligned, causing it to catch underneath another rib and get caught there. She was able, after several sessions, to ease it back into place. That place in my back is still a 'tender area' that I coddle a bit. It is a physical reminder of God's answer to my request for humility. I had not one cocky or prideful thought during that summer's events.

I now find myself giving the advise to "be sure you really want humility before you pray for it." God doesn't mess around with a prayer like that. He knows just what it will take to bring us to our knees, and can quite effectively cause that fall that "Pride goeth before."

What is true religion?

There are so many frightening things being done in the world today in the name of religion. Religion is the way we are tied back to God, and many people have ideas about how this is to be done. But I believe there is a simple test to know what is truly of God and what is not. True religion, that which is Godly and God sanctioned, is that which is filled with love and compassion and that which acts as if there is a basic holiness permeating things and people. Those who practice such religion live creatively and do not try to force others into tiny rules and boxes, into their own politics and laws, for all of those things were done away with with Christ's sacrifice. (Book of Galations) Any hatred served up in the name of religion is just hatred. God is love, not hate.


Setting God's agenda for Him, and trying to 'do His work' for Him is far from what He has asked us to do. He has asked us to accept and live in what He has done for us, and is willing to continue doing. These people scare me. They claim to speak for God but there is no Godly love in them.


Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is Love. 1 John 4:8

Walking the Labyrinth...

I have been thinking about walking the labyrinth recently. I have only walked a labyrinth once; about four years ago at Ghost Ranch in New Mexico. I had gone there to teach for the first time, and when I discovered that there is a labyrinth there, I determined to walk it.

Walking a labyrinth is intended to be a spiritual experience; a quest of sorts. It is a celtic notion, and, though I do not tend to buy into 'new age spirituality', I did not think it would do me any harm. I don't think I expected much in the way of it being a spiritual walk, but I am pretty open to new harmless experiences.

So early one morning, before the sun was completely up, and before even my first cup of coffee, I went out to walk the labyrinth. A labyrinth is not like a maze, where you must search for your way. A labyrinth has only one way in, and the same way back out. There are no decisions to be made, except the initial decision to walk the path, and the decision to stay the course. You just put one foot in front of the other and follow the path. Though the Ghost Ranch labyrinth is small, walking it is really quite slow and tedious. You feel as if you keep ending up at the same place over and over again; like you are not progressing at all. You go around and back, then back around and back again. After a short while I found myself thinking, "this is stupid; I could be back in bed." I was watching my feet and the path as I walked, concentrating on staying where I was going. But then the boredom of watching the path led me to look up, to see what was around me. The sun was just beginning to warm the beautiful place I was in.


A coyote ran across a nearby road way. Georgia O'Keefe's Pedernal was in the distance. The cactus were blooming. My frustration left me. Walking the path was now just something I was doing as I became aware and appreciative of my surroundings.


I don't think I necessarily had a deep spiritual experience that day as I walked the labyrinth. But today I keep thinking of walking that path. It seemed like I was going around in circles, continuously ending up in the same place. I didn't feel like I was progressing at all, but I did eventually make it to the end. I think of these things because some events in my life seem to keep repeating over and over again; there seems to be no progress or movement forward. But I do know that I am still going forward and an end will eventually be reached. I just need to quit looking down at my feet and trust that the path is going in the right direction. In the labyrinth that is my Life, there is really only one way in and one way out. The only decision to be made is whether or not to stay the course, and as it was that day at Ghost Ranch, it is a beautiful path to be on. I will keep to it to the end.


(This final photo was obviously not taken at Ghost Ranch. It was taken in Rockland, Maine, and is unaltered.)

Most beautiful blessings

Proverbs 17:6 ~

"Children's children are the crown of old men...;"

... and old women, too! Today I am so thankful for my children, my childrens' children, who are a delight and a blessing to me, my parents, and for my most special gift and blessing, my husband.

Beautiful blessings packed down and overflowing!

Empathy

The other night I went to the bed of my visiting two-year-old grandson in the darkness of the mid-night. He had a cough and wanted a drink of water. I gave him his cup of cool water, which he greedily sipped. Then he laid back down, curled into his pillow, and was sound asleep.

I went back to my own bed and, as I laid my head on my pillow, I curled my fist up near my cheek as I had seen the sweet sleeping toddler do. It was an automatic imitation, and my fingers felt to me like the chubby little fingers of a child.

In that moment, I realized I was feeling for my grandson, as if I were my grandson. I had one of those rare flashes of insight; insight into my own nature, into the nature of my oh-so-loved grandchild, and into the nature of what it means to truly empathize, to feel as if you are someone else.

I realized that I am a very empathetic person. And I believe this empathy has led me in a number of directions in my life. I also know that the fear of this empathy, for it can be a very fearful gift, has held me back from going in other directions.

Empathy. I can find very little about what it means, although empathy is the word that came to me so strongly in my 'moment of insight.' I believe it to be more than having sympathy or caring for another person, although it certainly must involve that concern and love. Empathy seems best described by the phrase "putting yourself in someone else's shoes." For a moment, in empathy you actually know a bit of what it is like to be another person in their specific situation.

I believe my empathetic nature led me to an education in the field of psychology,and then the overwhelming nature of empathy made me leave the social work arena a few years later. As I came into contact with more and more people who were hurting, and I took on not only their pain but my own frustration at being powerless to make it better, I retreated to a life that I hoped would be an escape from it.

I confess that I often work very hard to block out my empathy. I cannot watch movies or TV shows about war, violence, hunger, or even about greed, ambition and vice. I do not view the agony of others, even fictional, as being entertaining. Their agony becomes my own and I can live it over again and again for days and, more often, nights.

Throughout my life, my empathetic nature has also caused me to avoid places where there are a large number of people. I used to think that it was shyness or possibly claustrophobia that made me avoid crowded places. But I now understand that I get too caught up with what is going on with the people around me. At concerts I watch the people in the audience and slip into their experience as much as, or more than, I watch the performance. Too many people, too much empathy. It can be exhausting and even overwhelming.

One of the situations that has become increasingly difficult for me is going to church. Churches are filled with people who are trying, and naturally failing, to be perfect. The church I attend is filled with people I love, whom I often disagree with on things that are important to us all. And it is very difficult for me to disagree with and empathize and love so many people in one place.

But empathy is a gift from God, and I know that He doesn't want me, or anyone, to turn away from it. I know this because I am called to be Christ-like, and Jesus was a most gifted Empathizer. He felt the pain of those around Him; He felt the emptiness of lives; He knew the neediness. He knew which ones would be blessed by His healing, and which ones needed the discipline of not being healed. I believe He also often felt overwhelmed by feeling all the hurts and needs of those around Him. He, too, needed time alone in the garden or in the wilderness. He needed to fill back up with the Spirit of His Father before He could again willingly be empathetic to the many needs of others. He needed time to be Jesus the man, and Jesus the child of God, before He could master the empathetic energy it would take to be Jesus, the Savior of us all.

From Him, I need to learn how to master my own small gift of empathy, which I have already confessed to be a sometime blessing and a sometime burden. I need time alone with God. I need to empty my self and my time of the needs of others and of myself, so I can refill with God's love and strength, which is much greater than any I possess alone. And I need to trust that God will place people in my path that He wants me to feel empathy for: my own precious family and those whose lives touch mine. I need to protect my empathetic nature from being used up by those I am not called to empathize with, especially fictional television characters. Using my empathy up that way would surely be a blessing to the enemies of the Lord.

I need to allow myself to be satisfied with knowing that my sweet grandchildren can use my empathy for a cup of water, a cuddle and a story. That my lonely sister in Christ needs my smile, a hug, and a few minutes of my undivided attention. That the bored supermarket cashier might like to be asked how her day is going, how her children are doing. That an upset friend doesn't need me to solve her problems, but to just sit and listen for a bit. That my tired spouse may need some quiet time alone, even if I am in the mood to chatter. And that my brother in Christ whom I disagree with is just wanting to serve God in the way that he believes is right, as am I.

I do not need to empathize with the whole world on a one-on-one basis. Jesus did that for me; for each of us. I just need to recognize that, when I find myself in someone else's shoes, I should pay attention. God may be speaking to me through them, or He may be giving me the opportunity to speak for Him to them. Or perhaps to just lovingly give them a cup of cool water...