Anita Mathias: Dreaming Beneath the Spires

Anita Mathias's Blog on Faith and Art

Re-opening the Ancient Wells which will Save our Lives Right Now

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Switzerland 2013

In arid ancient Israel, access to artesian wells made all the difference between prosperity, survival, or famine.

And so when God blessed Isaac so that his crops reaped a hundred-fold return (Gen. 26:12) and he became very wealthy, out of envy, his enemies, the Philistines “stopped up all the wells that Abraham had built, filling them with earth.”

Today, there are almost weekly accounts of the Israeli occupation forces destroying Palestinian wells, farms and orchards. Destroying wells, sources of life, is always a very effective enemy action, leaving aridity and poverty.

* * *

 Barbara Brown Taylor popularised this question: What is saving your life, right now?

Prayer and scripture and communal worship is certainly part of it.

But other things are keeping me alive too: long, slow, contemplative walks out of doors with my beloved collie Jake, my body getting into a rhythm of movement, my mind relaxing, still as a pool, until I am no longer thinking, but just being, and then suddenly a golden carp of thought pops up, unexpected and welcome.

And travel, which is complete relaxation. My mind rests from conscious thought, planning, strategizing, worrying. I shrug off my to-do list, and my uneasy Puritan imperative of ambition and must-achieve. I am just am, and am purely happy and relaxed, wandering the streets of a beautifully preserved medieval town like Troyes, France, which we visited last week, just looking, or wandering aimlessly on the alpine meadows of Switzerland, to which we drove earlier this month.

Blogging is saving my life, in that it pushes me to think, to observe, to express, to strive for beauty.

* * *

 But life has blocked up several life-giving wells for me, as for all of us.

And I am opening up these wells.

Before I married, I was a voracious reader. Reading was my escape from the world, and my greatest source of joy, and I felt I needed to be alone to really disappear into a book leaving the world behind me, and I found that hard while living with other people.

I have been steadily reading less through the 23 years of our marriage, though I have recently re-launched a reading recovery programme—reading 1 page more each day than I did the day before, aiming to hit 45 pages a day, or a book a week. Concurrently, as a back-up plan since I have many books on the go, I aim to finish each book in 1 day less–30 days for book 1; 29 days for book 2, etc. This plan gets anyone to reading a book a week in 23 months.

And with reading, I have lost other sources of joy. As a child, I loved myth and legend and fairy tales and children’s stories. Sadly, I have not read much in these genres as an adult, because, well, I was an adult and thought I should be reading serious, grown-up stuff.

It’s strange that I didn’t realize that children’s stories and fairy tales and myths and legends were invented by adults, who were putting themselves back in touch with the sources of joy and delight. And we can step there with them, if we give ourselves permission to.

On holiday earlier this month in Switzerland, Italy and France, it was as if God switched a switch on in my brain, and children’s stories poured out of me, two and three a day. And writing children fiction–ah bliss, gives me “permission” to read it.

* * *

Poetry was something else I loved to read as a child, and the first genre I wrote in as an adult. My masters in creative writing was in poetry.

But then, making the correct or incorrect assessment that I probably would not have a career as a poet, I gave it up in my late twenties. It is something else I would love to resume, first reading it exhaustively, then writing it.

* * *

Our large garden was a huge source of joy as a child. I have a large garden now, even larger than my childhood garden, but in fact, though I write looking at it, it is hard to recover the habit of working in it consistently.

I would like an extraordinary garden, and would love to make time to work in it every day, for an hour, like I used to. But I have made peace with the fact that when it comes to it, I prefer writing to gardening. So, since it is better to take just a few steps in the direction of one’s dreams than none at all—I am gardening just once every few days for now.

* * *

 What will re-open the wells of life and joy for us?

Examine your life. See what you are doing out of duty and habit which is not life-giving for you. (Too much internet usage? On too many rotas at church? Staying up too late doing nothing much?)

Then begin to shoehorn joy into your life, starting small—in the smallest measurable increments, steadily rebuilding

What is saving your life now? Are there wells of joy which have closed for you? Tell us in the comments.

In which Jesus Commands us Not to Judge

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Do not judge because I am the Judge, not you.

Do not judge because your quick judgement cuts you off from my flow of goodness and mercy.

Do not judge because I am the positive, creative one; your negativity cuts you from me.

 

Do not judge because you are not that smart; you see only in part.

Do not judge because your own experiences colour your sight.

Do not judge because you see men’s public failures, but not their secret victories, the hidden good they did, or the hidden evil they stopped short of.

Do not judge because you know nothing of people’s shaping, crippling childhoods.

 

Avoid those snap, imperfect judgements.

They shut you off from opportunities to learn, to see and to be kind.

Remain open. Ask me to let you see people as I see them–and as they really are.

 

Do not judge because your judgement is confining. People will find it hard to transcend it.

Do not judge because Satan is the accuser of the brethren, and you do not want to resemble him.

 

Do not judge. Keep your mind open in mercy; don’t snap it shut in judgement.

 

Do not judge, because this is an inexorable law I have set in motion: In the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.

As you wish for mercy, offer it. As you wish to be assessed kindly, do not judge.

* * *

 But Jesus, assessing people is a life-skill. I would be a sheep among wolves if I did not know how to read people.

When you must assess people—look at the fruit of their lives. Their children are a testimonial; how they treat those less important than themselves; the peacefulness of their demeanour; how they respond to reverses, and to their enemies; the things they value; the tensile strength of their relationships.

* * *

 But use your tendency to swift, harsh judgment as a means of growth. See if you do the same thing. When the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eyes bothers you, see if you have a plank in your own eye.

Ask my help to remove it.

So will you use your instinctive tendency to judgement to grow, and to transcend your own weaknesses (which, ironically, will, often be in the very area in which you so swiftly judge).

 

Invite me into your eyes so that you will be able to see people as I see them. Invite me into your mind, as that you will be able to read people as I do.

Fail Better: Only Do Not Go Backwards

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The aged Abraham sends his servant back to Ur to get a wife for Isaac with these instructions, “Make sure that you do not take my son back there,” Abraham said. “Only do not take my son back there.” (Gen. 24:8).

Straight ahead lay the land of promise, the land to which he had specifically been called. Ur was the land he had been called out of.

Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better. 

― Samuel Beckett, Worstward Ho.

Only do not go backwards.

* * *

Failing Better with the Bible

I am reading this Genesis passage because it is my third (and final and God willing successful) attempt at blogging through the Bible. My first, in 2011, failed because I make the mistake of attempting to comment on every passage, not just on what most spoke to me in the readings of the day.

My second attempt, this January, failed because I again tried to keep up with the readings of the day, an impossible, quixotic endeavour. Blogging through the Bible on a standard reading plan of 4 passages a day involves writing 1460 posts a year. Who could write that many? And who could read them?!!

So I am trying again, taking my time, listening to what scripture is saying to me, writing that down, 2-3 posts a week at best. It will be a marathon, but reading scripture is not a sprint. It is a way of spiritual transformation.

* * *

Failing Better with Diet and Weight Loss

Sometimes success consists of just hanging in there, through plateaus. Jon Acuff writes somewhere that the diet that helped him lose 30 pounds was the diet he stuck to. There’s something to that.

But there is also something in learning from your past failures: studying what worked, and what did not work, and devising a plan likely to set you up for success.

Staying in the ring, and failing better and better until you succeed!

 

I have learned something from each dieting failure, for instance.

1 Weight Watchers. Ugh. Emphasis on calorie restriction kept me focused on food. Also calorie restriction may not work long term: it lowers your metabolism so that when you resume normal eating, you gain it all back!

2 Vegetarianism. Because I love carbs, I didn’t lose as much as I should have on this, and, nutritionally, substituting carbs for meat and dairy and eggs probably had dubious nutritional value.

3 Metabolic Typing Diet. Turned out that I, unusually for Asians, am a “protein type.” (A throwback to my paternal grandmother’s Portuguese grandmother, and the Portuguese on my mother’s side too?) Which means I do not metabolize carbs as easily as protein, more easily gaining weight with carbs than with meat or fish.

4 Atkins/South Beach. Being a protein type, I lose weight on these, but find it hard to get through the first two weeks!!

5 The Weigh Down Diet. The Presbyterian church I attended for a few years in Williamsburg had a Sunday School class on this eccentric diet! It was eat anything you want, as much as you want, when you are hungry, and stop when you are full.

By allowing chocolate, cookies and cheesecake, the diet aims at removing them as objects of lust. Oddly, I lost 10 pounds on this. But, nutritionally, it was nuts!

* * *

However, instead of viewing these discarded diets as failures, I have decided to view them as learning experiences. I have been very slowly losing weight (13 pounds over the last 9 months) through life-style change for life,  designing a diet which includes things I’ve learned from each of my diets

1. I no longer set out to restrict calories as that lowers my metabolism, but, in effect, do so by trying to have a green smoothie and a salad at most meals.

Because of the impressive nutritional and immunological  benefits of largely vegan and vegetarian meals, I am trying  to eat a diet that’s largely fruit and vegetables, with some protein, according to my body’s felt needs.

2. I limit sugar, chocolate and nutritionally empty white flour or white rice.

3. I try to do a 3.5 mile walk every second day, which probably works wonders for my metabolism.

4. From the Weigh-Down Diet, I’ve learned that it’s okay to have   occasional favourite meals, Indian and Chinese takeaway etc., and the occasional sweet treat. Knowing these are permitted on occasion, I do not get discouraged and resume undisciplined eating after one of these treats.

5 Another Weigh-Down Principle: Never use food as a recreational activity or for emotional needs. The risks to health are not worth it.

So I am trying to find appropriate interventions when sad, angry, bored, stressed, which do not involve calories. I am also trying to break a lifelong habit of grazing through the day, and am trying to train myself not to eat between meals unless I am truly hungry. Knowing I am not going to eat until the next meal gives me the same sense of peace and freedom as when I lock myself out of facebook, twitter, email, and newspapers!

Weight loss has been slow with many plateaus, because I am overcoming the engrained bad eating habits of a lifetime, reacquainting myself with what physical hunger feels like, learning not to eat absent-mindedly.  But I am determined, whatever I do, not to go backwards.

* * *

Failing Better with Early Rising

I have, for many years, had a romantic desire to wake at 5 o’clock, and enjoy sunrise and sunset in the same day.

However, I have my most concentrated periods of thinking , writing and reading in the evenings.  So cutting out a beloved productive time by going to sleep at 9 to wake at 5 felt a bit stupid to me, and my attempts to wake at 5 were short-lived.

My latest wake-early attempt began in late May, and I am now waking at 6.40 a.m., pushing it back 15 minutes every 4 days then maintaining it a bit. Should get there.

I have learned from my failures. Telling myself I have to get to bed early stresses my evening, and deprives me of productive time. So I am using bi-phasic sleeping which works very well for me: less than 8 hours at night, but a longish nap in the afternoon between two periods of work. Iris Murdoch in The Good Apprentice calls this getting two days for the price of one!

* * *

In any enterprise, running an orderly house, learning to write, becoming formidably well-read: keep proceeding, even by millimetres in the direction of your dreams, and you will achieve a success you did not dream of in lesser hours.

If you can’t proceed, rest at a plateau; just do not go backwards.

And then try again, though not using the same strategy which just failed (one definition of insanity). Instead, keep what worked, examine what failed, see how to replace it with something better, and try again, failing better until you succeed.

How about you? Are there areas in which you’ve learned from failure, and are now failing better? Or even succeeding?

 

The Earth Belongs to Those who Take Time to Enjoy It

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 Part II of my extended meditation on The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth. Here’s Part I.

Do the meek really inherit the earth? 

“The earth,” or την γην, ten gen, to the Jewish mind signified the beloved land, Eretz Israel, the promised, longed-for land of Canaan.  It was used “as a proverbial expression to denote any great blessing, perhaps as the sum of all blessings,” (Barnes’ Notes on the Bible).  So the meek inherit it all, the whole enchilada.

Indeed, some Bible commentaries suggest that meekness contributes to success, even economic success. And I believe this paradox is true!

 The value of meekness, even in regard to worldly property and success in life, is often exhibited in the Scriptures. It is also seen in common life that a meek, patient, mild man is the most prospered. An impatient and quarrelsome man raises up enemies; often loses property in lawsuits; spends his time in disputes and broils rather than in sober, honest industry; and is harassed, vexed, and unsuccessful in all that he does. Barnes’ Notes on the Bible.

“These meek ones are happy, even in this world. Meekness promotes wealth, comfort, and safety, even in this world.” Matthew Henry’s Commentary.

Hmm… Are there other benefits of meekness?

Meekness produces peace. It is proof of true greatness of soul. It comes from a heart too great to be moved by little insults. He that is constantly ruffled; that suffers every little insult or injury to throw him off his guard and to raise a storm of passion within, is at the mercy of every mortal that chooses to disturb him. He is like “the troubled sea that cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt.” Barnes’ Notes on the Bible

Meekness is essential for marital harmony and long continued friendships. A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger, Prov. 15:1.  I look back and wonder how many of our marital quarrels could have been averted by a mild answer? How many friendships would I have saved?

And Even Fairy Tales Sing It: The Meek Inherit the Earth

The deep wish, or the deep truth, that the meek inherit the earth is embedded in myth and fairy tale: think of Beauty, Cinderella, Snow White or Psyche.

In Scripture, in fairy tales and in real life, there is a special favour and protection extended to the youngest, who is generally the meekest, the gentlest, the least powerful, the most innocent, and the most in need of protection. Kindness to the meek comes instinctively to most human beings and is encoded in our natures (though not in everyone’s: there are bullies, among Christians as well as non-Christians).

In fact, the Earth belongs to those who have time for it

Isaiah saw the Lord, high and lifted up, while the seraphim flew around him and cried, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory.”

 It throbs with it. It sings with it.

And to whom does this glorious earth belong?

Not to those who own hundreds of its acres but lack the time to step out in them.

Not to those who are so preoccupied with acquiring or maintaining their possessions that they have no time to enjoy in the great simple gifts given unasked: sunrise and sunset, maples blazing in autumn, the moon sailing through winter skies, daffodils and bluebells in spring, and late summer evenings, when the world is golden.

The earth belongs to those who have the time to enjoy it.

It’s not necessary to own land to enjoy it; you just need to be out in it, with a quiet heart, not one anxious or distracted.

The earth belongs to those who have time for it: to observe it, admire it, love it, and walk out on it.

The earth belongs to those whose heart is calm and stilled so they are able to slow down and appreciate the beauty of the earth, the ever-changing canvas of the skies, which, day by day, hour by hour, silently proclaims the glory of God.

And, mysteriously, Scripture tells us that the meek will inherit this earth. In a way we do not understand, it will be given to them.

                                                                                     * * *

The meek inherit the earth is one of Jesus’s apparently lunatic propositions like “Give and you shall receive, full measure, pressed down, flowing over.”

What kind of math is this? Addition by subtraction, gaining by losing, cracking yourself open like a grain of wheat to gain a mighty harvest.

It is the mysterious mathematics of the Kingdom of God, in which everything happens because of the X Factor, the secret power of God.

And that is the only way these paradoxes work: that in giving, we receive full measure; and that one might be mild and gentle, and still “inherit the earth.”

Religious people are sometimes accused of checking their brains by the front door. In this case, yes, I guess I am doing it.

I am taking it on faith that the meek inherit the earth because Jesus says they do, and whenever I have experimented with his words I have discovered that he is, indeed, absolutely right.

Read Part III here.

An excerpt from my ebook and paperback The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth available on kindle and paperback on

Amazon UK

Amazon.com

 

 

 

In which Birds Teach us Not to Worry

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We can worship God in church, and we can worship God while walking through the spectacular natural world he made, which is full of clues to his character. The heavens declare God’s glory, without words.

Trees, the ocean, the day and the seasons tell of a God who loves beauty, who made all things well, who offers us rhythms as a gift, alternating periods of blazing bright and quiescence, when we gather strength for the next period of full flourishing.

* * *

I think Christ uses examples from the natural world most tenderly when he assures us that the Father feeds the birds of the air, who do not sow or reap or store away in barns, (Matt 6: 25-34).

Or that he clothes in glory the lilies of the field who do not labour and spin. He watches the sparrow, his eyes full of delight.

And we are more valuable.

So do not worry about your life, about the future, Jesus says. Your father is watching you, as you, with delight, watch the finches at your feeder, for whom you’ve laid out food and fat and water.  You are under his protection.

* * *

Do not worry.

Not worrying is a mental discipline we learn with practice, just as writing well, or running fast are creative and physical disciplines we learn with practice.

So I am training myself to be calm, relaxed and super-chilled, to go through my day peacefully.

* * *

Norman Vincent Peale describes, in one of his Positive Thinking books, being hustled from event to event at a conference he was speaking at. He was finally gets to his room, and is told, “Dinner in 10 minutes.” “Yes, yes,” he says nervously, and looks around stressed. Then he realises he doesn’t care if he missed dinner. He could get room service.

He lies down, falls asleep, wakes up twenty minutes later, refreshed, calmly snaps on his bow-tie, and goes to dinner. He had only missed the pre-dinner speaker and the soup, and by all accounts neither was good.

* * *

Kathleen Chesto writes, “A story is told of a safari in the Serengeti. A researcher was rushing to the mating grounds of the African elephant. He had started late and pushed his porters relentlessly to arrive by mating season. On the fourth day, the porters sat down and refused to move. The translator explained they would go no farther until they had given their spirits time to catch up with them.”

Peale waited for his spirit to catch up with him, only missed the soup, and did his evening peacefully

* * *

One thing I have learned from the Peale story, which I think of every time I am running late is that rushing and stress are simply not worth it. If I am running late, I don’t look at the clock at home, or  in the car. I get there when I get there, and enjoy it, and if I’ve missed the soup, so be it.

(Must add though, that having been the girl who always ran late all my life, in mid-life I have realised that being late is a choice, which I don’t need to make. It’s stressful, and a bit rude. Am getting my act together and re-configuring things so that I am late less often.)

* * *

Another area in which I have decided not to worry is my blog. Interestingly, we cannot control the most important factor in the success of our blogs: i.e. how many people read it. Normally, the number of my readers or “Unique Monthly Visitors” in blog and Google parlance rises, month on month. When it drops, in summer or December, I wonder if I should write more.

However, I cannot, at present, see how I could write more, or devote more time to my blog without neglecting the other things God has given me to do—I want to work on a book. I am a wife, and mother, own a house and a garden and a body which I need to exercise. I am a spiritual being, and I need to nurture my relationship with God from which, truly, everything flows.

And so, having spent 30 minutes drafting a blog, I need to lay it aside for the day, and when I am worried that it is static, I need to pray about it as I go about my day.

For it is a Christian blog, and the meat of good Christian writing comes from surrender, from burrowing more deeply into the holy things of God and reporting your findings, and that can be done while gardening or walking.

And so if I find myself worrying if my blog will ever grow, I pray instead that I may know Christ more, and that he may bless my blog, and give me whatever ideas he may have for its growth. For he is kind, and his ideas will lead to energy, not exhaustion.

And so I lean in, and listen instead of worrying–and ideas come.

So that is my rule for myself vis-à-vis my blog: I am not allowed to worry. I am allowed to pray, for blessing, for ideas, for strategy. And, oddly, that simple rule will work for every area of my life.

 

And Sarah Snorted. When our Faith Falters, But God’s Goodness Remains Constant

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Arent de Gelder: God and the Angels visit Abraham

  Arent de Gelder 1645-1727

Three white-clad men walk out of the desert, out of the shimmering sands. Such is their calm and majesty that Abraham, the Patriarch, “very wealthy in silver and gold, sheep and cattle and camels and male and female donkeys, menservants and maidservants” runs to meet them, bows low to the ground, and offers him his most lavish hospitality: a freshly slaughtered calf, yogurt and milk, and bread from the finest flour,

It is a theophany; Abraham sees the pre-incarnate Christ. Abraham sees God.

“Then one of the men said, “I will surely return to you about this time next year, and Sarah your wife will have a son.” (Gen 18:10)

* * *

And Sarah, listening at the entrance of her tent, out of sight, snorts.

Same old, same old, same old promises. The son, descendants, more of them than the stars in the sky and the grains of sand in the seashore.

Well, God, that sounds wonderfully poetic, but you know, as for me, here, in space and time, well, I could do with just one child. Is that too much to ask? Well, yes, apparently so!

I am weary of these promises. I am weary of hope. “After I am worn out and my lord is old, will I now have this pleasure?” she thinks. (Gen 18:12)

And Sarah snorts!

* * *

 Then the Lord said to Abraham, “Why did Sarah laugh and say, ‘Will I really have a child, now that I am old?’ 14 Is anything too hard for the Lord?” (Gen 18: 13-14)

But perhaps the Lord thought, “Yeah, I am with Sarah. I have tried their hope and faith and patience for long decades. Perhaps too long. I have given them a good life full of richness in the interim. I have blessed them in every other way, but I know their longing, their heartbeat. It is for a son. It is for Isaac.

I waited so long so that they would never doubt that Isaac was mine, and not theirs. Never fail to see my glory in this baby, Isaac. Never doubt Isaac was a miracle baby, my miracle ancestor, pre-figuring when I too would enter human history as a miracle baby, the greatest miracle of all.

But it is now time. Time for their miracle. Time for Isaac.”

“I will return to you at the appointed time next year, and Sarah will have a son.”

 Sarah was afraid, so she lied and said, “I did not laugh.”

But he said, “Yes, you did laugh.” (Gen 18: 14-15)

* * *

Ah, Sarah, how you blew it. Snorting at a theophany! Snorting at Christ and his angels! You’ve lost hope. The snake of bitterness curls around your heart. You no longer have the energy, the courage to hope, and who can blame you?

And then you lie, you lie to the Lord, who sees your heart.

But are you zapped, turned to a pillar of salt, as Lot’s wife was?

No, the Lord understood your longing, your disappointment, your frustration.

And despite your snort of laughter, your spontaneous lie, He reiterated his promise, no longer vague, but definite,  “I will return to you at the appointed time next year, and Sarah will have a son.”

And He did, and you did, and you called him Isaac, which means laughter. Your snort of derisive laughter was redeemed; it became the laughter of joy at your miracle baby.

* * *

 And sometimes, our dreams seem disproportionately enormous, and our faith wavers, and the years pass, but our dreams, the promises we heard God whisper to us, the destiny we are born for, has not come to pass, and when we verbalize our dreams, we almost snort.

And how can you, Lord, bless someone who has so blown it, a sinner, whose faith has wavered?

But you do because you know our frame; you know we are but dust, and so though we do not deserve it, though we have blown it again and again, you come to us; you bring the destiny you have promised us to pass; you give us the child of promise whose name is laughter. You enjoy the pun, artist that you are, transforming the snort of sceptical laughter to laughter like a running brook.

 

 

 

“Do not Resist Evil;” One Way to Heal after Experiencing Evil

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You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’ But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also.  And if anyone wants to take your shirt, hand over your coat as well.  If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles. (Matthew 5 38-41).

Oh Jesus, how costly your words are.

Recently, when I’ve suffered actual or perceived injustice or annoyance, and have taken up the matter with Jesus, I’ve heard him say, “Let him.” “Let her.”

“Just don’t get entangled with evil, with resistance, with revenge. Let them do what they want to do. I am the ultimate score-keeer, the umpire, who will provide you another coat, and strength to walk the third mile on your own business after you’ve marched two miles carrying the Roman soldier’s gear.”

* * *

If we do not “let them,” if we plot revenge, if we put our emotional hooks in our enemy’s flesh, mentally dragging them behind us everywhere, we get embroiled in an endless tit-for-tat world of malice.

The principle of an eye for an eye, applied in the Code of Hammurabi, Judaism and Islam was neat, merciless, and there an end. But in our more sophisticated societies, what constitutes an eye for an eye is not so easily calculated. People extract revenge in all sorts of ways: gossip, slander, blocking, passive aggression, malice, and pettiness.

Sad for the victim, and sad too for the perpetrator—whose character becomes smaller and meaner and shrivels, becoming increasingly cut off from the waterfall of the grace and power of God. Once we put those who have wronged us on a mental blacklist, unconsciously ready to get even given a chance, we are no longer quite so open to God’s guidance; the presence of the Holy Spirit no longer pulses in our souls.

But what are we to do when we suffer injustice? Because we well might. The enemy of our souls stalks this world, twisting, corrupting, darkening. However, he plays against the Grandmaster who will, of course, ultimately win.

* * *

Let tell you a story of my initial failure and ultimate success in one of my encounters with evil. And about one way I have stumbled on to heal after experiencing evil.

Several years ago, I was wronged, unfairly treated, and humiliated. Because this happened at an extremely vulnerable point in my life, it precipitated an episode of “great sadness.”

A couple of years after that incident, through an unexpected turn of events, I got to “whistle-blow,”—I publicly pointed out a severe dereliction of duty on the part of the person who had unfairly treated me. They resigned from their relatively well-paid sinecurish job.

Quits, huh? This person furiously said to me, “Well, you’ve got your pound of flesh now, haven’t you?” And I childishly replied, “No, what you did to me was far worse.”

But yes, I had got my pound of flesh, plus. However, each time I remembered how I had been treated, my heart burned with indignation at the injustice and shaming. I wanted to do something about it, all over again.  Though, I had already done something. As they said, I had had my pound of flesh. (And eating anger probably did add some pounds of flesh to my frame.)

We will never feel quits, never, because the memory of past wrongs feels fresh again. And at the “re-injury,” we again want to get even, though heck, we’ve already done so in so many petty soul-corrupting ways, damaging our souls, damaging our communion with Jesus, and with his sweet spirit.

* * *

And so for our protection, Jesus tells us not to even try to get even. But we are not to sit all tensed up saying, “I will not take revenge. I will not think of a pink elephant.”

There are other ways for the soul to  heal. One is do good to those who have injured you. And what when our soul cannot yet stretch to that sublimity? When we cannot bring ourselves to do our enemies a good turn?

I am reading Brene Brown’s Daring Greatly.  She quotes psychologist James Pennebaker who says that the act of not discussing a traumatic event or confiding it to another person could be more damaging than the actual event. Conversely, when people shared their stories and experiences, their physical health improved.

In his book Writing to Heal, Pennebaker says, “The act of writing about traumatic experience for as little as 15 or 20 minutes a day for three or four days can produce measurable changes in physical and mental health. Emotional writing can also affect people’s sleep habits, work efficiency, and how they connect with others.”

So then, I write my three morning pages about this particular episode which still made me feel outraged when I thought about it.

* * *

And as I write, I see it wholly, not just all the infuriating bits, but the whole chain of events, including my culpability.

In scripture, a turning point is often marked by the phrase, “But God.”  And unexpectedly, God steps in. As I was able to see those disturbing events more clearly, I was also able to see the good God brought out of them.

He showed me that his loving kindness had been extended to me, though other people may have behaved out of insecurity,  competitiveness, jealousy, malice or in a good old-fashioned power struggle. Augustine writes in his Confessions that his teachers acted towards him in malice or indifference, but God was working too, turning it to good.

I then had been leading and spear-heading something I shouldn’t have been because I was overwhelmed and beside myself in my personal life. I need to get my house in order, literally. I needed to get my business profitable. I need to stabilize my emotions. I needed more sleep, more rest. I needed to write, which I wasn’t doing at all. I needed the desert, which I so chafed against. I needed an Elijah experience of sleeping, eating and resting. I needed to see God in the wilderness like Hagar did. And I needed to emerge from it, strong, leaning on my beloved.

And through my enforced sojourn in the desert, forced on me by these people, I developed my latent entrepreneurial gifts. I established our family business, freeing me to focus on writing. I had time to establish my blog, slowly writing my way to a blogging style which speaks to people. I learnt soaking prayer. I became convinced of the deep love of God for me. My soul healed. And I cut all ties with those toxic people!

God was in the situation, the Grandmaster, putting me in a corner, to rest, to heal, to gather strength for the destiny he had in mind for me. The people who put me in the corner were also pawns in the grandmaster’s hand. Nothing happened to me but what He permitted; nothing, but what He turned to goodness and blessing for me.

Nothing, nothing, happens to you but what God has permitted. Nothing, nothing happens to you that God is unable to turn to good.

Do not resist an evil person. Do not get emotionally entangled with them. If they force you to march a mile, march it. If they take your cloak, shrug it off; let him have it. And then march free, your eyes on your Father, who can give you the cloak you need, the strength you need, whose eyes are on you, who can do anything, for whom nothing is too wonderful.

And Jesus, please give me the grace, if and when necessary, to live my own words—and Yours.

 

Over to you:

Have you experienced evil? How have you healed after that experience?

 

A City Set on a Hill cannot be Hidden: Focus on Working, not Networking

By

The-City-on-a-Hill

So you are going to build a city.

Dig its foundations deep. Pour the concrete. Design your buildings. It’s your city: Put in whatever you like—the Alhambra, the Hagia Sophia, the Sagrada Familia, the Parthenon.  Throw in Notre Dame and Westminster Abbey.

Decorate your buildings as you wish—with the mosaics from Ravenna, or from the Topkapi Palacein Istanbul.

It’s your city. Put in the Pre-Raphaelites, the Impressionists, Botticelli and Raphael. Have your floors inlaid marble from Florence. Have indoor fountains and reflecting pools where goldfish glide.

Throw in chandeliers and floor to ceiling windows. Let your city be full of light.

You are building your city on a hill. It cannot be hidden.

* * *

You will, in moments of lesser faith, read blogs on how to hustle, how to promote your city, how to network, make connections, build a platform.

Oh builder of cities, beware. All these things steal time and focus away from learning the art and craft of city building.

Instead, seek God for the perfect blueprint for your city. Seek his inspiration for each tower and spire, each inlaid marble floor, each wall hung with Persian carpets, and each Tiffany lamp through which light glows.

Unless love runs through your city, and the desire to meet people’s needs for beauty, joy, peace, wisdom or rest, all the promotion and hustling you do will be futile. Nobody will long linger there, buy property there, and stroll through the boulevards under shady lime trees, hand in hand with their lovers.

* * *

There is a kind of networking which is sheer joy—if you connect with people whose work you love, if you praise them honestly, interact with their work whole-heartedly, then you make friends, and this whole city-building business become more joyful.

However, flattering people for their attention; making connections for the good things these connections might bring you; befriending people to use them to promote your work—how can one ask God to bless such endeavours? Oh woman of God, flee these things.

There is a sort of hustling and self-promotion that is practical atheism.  We act as if there is no God who can help people notice our city on a hill. We act as if God does not delight in good work and want people to enjoy it. We act as if God cannot even now give us twelve legions of those who will enjoy our work if we ask him. We forget the power of prayer.

And the worst thing about excessive self-promotion and connection-making? It devours the time and energy that should go into making your rare and beautiful city, set on a hill. So beautiful that at night, when the lights are switched on, and coloured fountains play, people cannot but look up and marvel; their feet itch, they yearn to walk up and explore.

And in spring, they will delight in walking through its gardens of cherry blossoms, and will sit under their shade, and look at the fields of daffodils, stretching as far as the eye can see.

* * *

Besides, the connections which matter will arise organically. Other builders of cities on hills will notice yours, and ask you managed that 150 metre spire without visible support, and you will talk about flying buttresses. And you will ask them what pigments they used for those impossibly large stained glass windows which flood their cathedrals with rainbowed light, and they will tell you.

* * *

God delights in your creativity. Build your city under his eye, as your worship to him, seeking his wisdom, in alignment with his stream of thoughts which outnumber the grains of sand on the seashore.

Let him smile, and say it is very good.

And as for the audience you’d love to have?

Remember, a city on a hill cannot be hidden. It glimmers during the day, and its light shines through the land at night.