To Be Re-enchanted

Many of CS Lewis’ books have this idea of “re-enchantment” running through them.  You might even remember this while reading The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.  In the absence of Aslan, Narnia was captured by the White Witch, who cast a frozen spell over the land, making it “always winter and never Christmas.”  Narnia needed re-enchanting. 

Just like Narnia, Lewis believed that we, too, have fallen under a spell.  We’ve lost the ability to view the world through eyes of wonder and mystery, tempted to explain everything in strictly mechanical or rational terms.  And our reliance on our technological devices seems to have dramatically escalated this problem.  We need to be re-enchanted with the goodness, beauty, and truth God gives us. Our world, while far from perfect, still offers us glimpses of these God-given gifts, if only we have eyes to see. 

In his book The Beauty Chasers, Timothy Willard writes, “God created us to run on soulish things, not haphazard, thoughtless things. God created us in his image (imago dei).  When we participate in the beautiful in this world, our souls come alive.  When we receive the brutish things of the world into our lives, our souls fall sick.”  

According to Willard, George Sayer, a close friend of Lewis, describes how Lewis nurtured his spiritual life with his “habit of communing with nature.”  Lewis would take a morning walk in the garden to drink in “the beauty of the morning, thanking God for the weather, the roses, the song of the birds, and anything else he could find to enjoy.” 

So how do we push back against this temptation?  Here are three simple practices that might help us.

Like C.S. Lewis, we can soak in the beauty of nature on a regular basis (although winter invites us to be a bit more creative…but beauty is always present in every season).  As much as possible, go outside every day and be curious about what you see.  

Be aware of your dependence on technology…pay attention to your habits. Currently for me, this means resisting the urge to check my phone first thing each morning (which is so hard for me!).  

Live in gratitude. Consider some easy ways to incorporate gratitude into each day. Perhaps it’s thanking God for good things in your day as you are falling asleep? Or follow the lead of Lewis and take a gratitude walk on a regular basis.

May we all learn to live re-enchanted!

Bristlecone Pines

Shortly after we moved to Colorado, we drove up Mount Blue Sky, just west of Denver. It is a “14er” (mountains with elevations over 14,000 feet…there are 58 in Colorado!), and the only one where you can drive almost all the way up to the top. It’s truly amazing above the tree line, with views for miles. 

On the way up we passed a bristlecone pine forest, so we stopped to see these magnificent trees. They are beautifully odd-looking, not nearly as stately and tall as other pines. Their trunks are gnarly and twisted, sometimes bent parallel with the ground.

The bristlecone pines are known for their longevity, as they can live for thousands of years. The oldest known bristlecone pine (named Methuselah after the oldest living person in the Bible) is 4,850 years old! 

Interestingly, they are only found in high altitude areas with little water and intensely strong cold winds. Although it seems counter-intuitive, scientists say that the harsh conditions actually make bristlecone pines stronger and more resilient. They keep growing, even just a few tenths of a millimeter, for thousands of years. 

In his book, The Sound of Life’s Unspeakable Beauty, Martin Schleske writes about the wisdom these trees offer for us, “We did not choose the soil and location of our life’s climate, and we all experience tremendous growing pain through our lives. Those who, like the bristlecone pine, hold out through wind, drought, and adversity and keep up their inner growth are worthy of the same wonder and honor due to these life giants.” So good, right?! 

I hope the bristlecone pine offers encouragement to you as you face your own “fierce winds”. By God’s grace, may we be people who keep growing and leaning into hope.

Memento Mori

Some years ago, our family visited the Capuchin church (also known as The Bones Church) in Rome.  At first, it just seemed creepy as the crypt is decorated with the bones of 4000 different friars between 1528 and 1870.  Visitors are welcomed with the phrase, “What you are we were; what we are you will be “.   BUT, we were so intrigued by this place and over the years I have thought about what these monks and their bones ask us to remember…the fleeting nature of our lives here on earth.

Through the ages, actual skulls have served as visual reminders of the brevity of life.  Skulls were often included in art, and people were encouraged to regularly meditate on their own mortality.  Memento Mori is Latin for “remember you must die”.  In his book, Practicing the Way, John Mark Comer writes, “monks would go into their cells and kneel on prayer benches with three items spread before them: a portion of Scripture, a candle…and a skull.”   It sounds rather gloomy and macabre to us today, doesn’t it?!  And although we likely won’t be trying to procure real skulls, an acceptance of this truth helps us receive life as both brief and beautiful.  In the famous words of the poet Mary Oliver, “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

Memento Mori, by Gayla Irwin

In closing, consider the prayer of Moses from Psalm 90, that God would teach his people to “number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom”.  The next time you see a skull (and since Halloween is close, you will likely see some) remember Memento Mori and ask for the grace to live your life as the treasured gift it is.

A Flow State

Have you ever wondered why doing something creative is so good for you?  Research has shown that one important reason is connected to “flow state”.  You’ve probably also heard this described as being “in the zone”.  

My first memory of experiencing flow state was during an art class I signed up to take shortly after the traumatic death of my dear dad.  I was seeing a therapist, but still feeling sad and anxious.  Time just seemed to move SO slowly and my mind was preoccupied with all that had happened around his death.  John suggested that taking an art class might be good for me.  And he was right…it was in this watercolor class that I became so absorbed in painting, enjoying myself, and able to escape my grief for a little while. It was such a gift and help in my healing.

In her blog, artist Eliza Todd describes some of the benefits of flow state:

✨ Enhanced creativity: Flow state unleashes your creative potential, allowing you to produce your best work and break through artistic barriers. 

✨Increased productivity: Being "in the zone" helps you accomplish tasks more efficiently, making it a powerful ally in completing projects and overcoming obstacles. 

✨Reduced stress and anxiety: Flow state encourages a sense of calm and well-being, helping you maintain a positive mindset during your creative journey.  

✨Greater satisfaction: The deep engagement and enjoyment of flow state lead to a profound sense of fulfillment in your creative pursuits. Embrace the process, enjoy the journey, and transform your artistic (or whatever creative) endeavors into truly meaningful experiences. 

 Medical News Today suggests that it is not always possible to put yourself into a flow state: “Instead, it is more about creating the right circumstances for flow. A person can start by thinking about previous occasions when they entered a flow state and the factors that may have helped.”  It’s important for us to take note of the type of task, the environment, and our mental state at the time, that help us enter flow.  Other suggestions include allowing plenty of time, minimizing interruptions, practicing mindfulness, and making sure the task isn’t too boring or too challenging.  

Can you remember the last time you experienced a flow state?  What were you doing? Are you able to engage in this regularly?  Reply in the comments…I’d love to hear about it!

Learning from the Birds

My husband, John loves birds. He’s taught me that a birder has to pay attention and learn to see (just like in creating art). For a while, we had a pair of brightly colored goldfinches hanging around our feeder. Well, at least the male is brightly colored…the female, sadly not so much. There is goodness in watching them swoop and flutter and dart about.

These birds reflect both the beautiful creativity of God and his care for all creatures. In Matthew 6 Jesus says this:

I tell you not to worry about everyday life—whether you have enough food and drink, or enough clothes to wear. Isn’t life more than food, and your body more than clothing? Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you far more valuable to him than they are? Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?

According to this verse, Jesus is suggesting a bit of birdwatching as a help to overcoming our worry habits. In his book, A Non-Anxious Life, Alan Fadling states that watching birds is good for our souls, that birds can become our teachers in non-anxious living.

Fadling writes, “My anxieties are a kind of soul amnesia. I forget that God is constantly caring and providing for me. Perhaps this is why God invites us to “remember” so often in Scripture. Remembering the care of God is a good practice for our souls.”

A prayer in closing…

Dear God, would you help us remember how valuable we are to you, our Creator? In the uncertainty and craziness of our world right now, it’s so easy to forget.

Jesus, may we be like the birds you mentioned, with eyes waiting and focused on you to supply what we need. Bring to mind all the ways you have provided for us in the past.

And Holy Spirit, when we feel overwhelmed with worry or fear, would you please comfort us with your deep and lavish love? Amen.

 

Love that Chases after Us

5 1/2 years ago I was diagnosed with cancer.  Because they had difficulty determining the type of cancer, I headed to Mayo Clinic in Arizona (along with my husband, John), and a great team of doctors.  As we went into an appointment with the radiologist, I realized how scared I was about undergoing radiation. After meeting with us for a bit, this young doctor said, “I want to tell you that I know who you are.”  He went on to tell us about hearing John speak at an event several years earlier…the crazy part is that John is not well known or a regular speaker.  It was wild and weird to hear in that moment, and so so comforting.  It was if God was saying to me, “I know who you are…I’ve got you…I love you.”

Hesed is the Hebrew word that describes this love God has for us (used 248 times in the Old Testament).  My friend, Pat, has studied Hebrew extensively.  I asked him to help me understand this concept of hesed love.  Hesed has been translated as lovingkindness (a made-up word for a hard to describe wonder of God). 

Pat describes hesed as the kind of unconditional, unfailing love that doesn't stop flowing toward its recipient based upon their response. God’s movement, His posture is always toward us.  God cannot NOT be who he is, and he is hesed love. 

Pat went on to declare that the universe has hesed written into the stars and into our skin.  So beautiful.  He compared it to a mother’s love (think of Harry Potter’s mother marking his forehead with her love, protecting him from He Who Must Not Be Named.)

 Consider the beloved Psalm 23 which uses hesed in the last verse: Surely goodness and mercy (hesed) will follow you all the days of your life.  And The Message version says, Your beauty and love chase after me every day of my life.

I find it so encouraging, so powerfully comforting, to imagine hesed love chasing after me every day of my life, no matter what.  This love is not dependent on my situation or my emotions or even my response.

If you can (even tonight as you are drifting off to sleep), ask God to bring a memory of a time when you felt His love for you.  Maybe it was through the love or kindness of another person, or some answer to prayer, or something beautiful. Or maybe a way you felt His care for you in a particularly dark season. His hesed love never stops chasing after us.

Looking for the Light

One thing I love about late summer are the sunflowers, standing so tall and bright and cheery.  I am intrigued by the way they track the sun across the sky.  They remind me of the importance of looking for the light. 

As we learned in elementary school science, light is critical for life as it is the main source of energy for all living things.  Plants need light for photosynthesis to make food and produce oxygen.  And light can heal, as we learned by putting our newborn baby girl, with a touch of jaundice, directly in a patch of sunlight each day.    

A few years ago, I read an interesting little book called Mind the Light, by J. Brent Bill, a Quaker.  The Quakers have a spiritual practice they call “minding the light” which he describes as learning to see God’s light inside us but also around us.  He points out that they use the word “mind” to mean many things: heed, tend, notice, observe, and obey.  He writes:

Minding the Light is an invitation to experience a new way of seeing that shows our brains and souls what to pay attention to.  It’s a way of seeing our inner and outer lives with spiritual eyes and discovering the connectedness between inner and outer sight. 

 So, what might it look like to mind the light, in the midst of this difficult season?  As Jesus teaches, “Your eyes are windows into your body. If you open your eyes wide in wonder and belief, your body fills up with light.”  Matthew 6:22, The Message

 For many of us, wonder and belief don’t come easily. The Quakers (once referred to as “Children of Light”) encourage us to train our brains and our souls what to pay attention to.  It’s developing a habit of looking at what is around you.

 Bill encourages us to develop a practice of doing some “intense looking” for a few minutes every day.  Start small.  Looking closely at one little tomato growing on the vine, noticing its intricate design encourages me and reminds me of God’s care. Georgia O’Keefe, known for her large scale floral paintings said, “Nobody sees a flower really—it is so small it takes time—we haven’t time—and to see takes time, like to have a friend takes time.” 

 So, are there practices you do that help you mind the light?  Perhaps it’s taking photos, creating art, or journaling your thoughts.  Or perhaps there are people in your life that help you see?  Little children can do this for us, as we watch them squat down to look at a caterpillar inching by.  Or perhaps it’s people watching at the airport, noticing the variety of people in the world, and each one uniquely reflecting the image of God. 

 Thanks for reading.  I’d love to hear your thoughts if you’d like to share!

Why Does Beauty Matter?

Our idea of who or what is beautiful is heavily influenced by our cultural standards.  Too often, we confuse beauty with perfection.  In his book, The Jesus Way, Eugene Peterson writes:

Beauty is commonly trivialized in our culture, whether secular or ecclesial.   It is reduced to decoration, equated with the insipidities of “pretty” or “nice.”  But beauty is not an add-on, not an extra, not a frill.  Beauty is fundamental.  Beauty is not what we indulge ourselves in after we have taken care of the serious business of making a living, or getting saved, or winning the lottery.  It is evidence of and witness to the inherent wholeness and goodness of who God is and the way God works.

When something catches my eye, it is often the unique, quirky little details that make it beautiful.  Like the wrinkles in an old wizened face, or the neon colors of the darting fish, or the contrast of the white aspen bark against the cerulean blue sky.  If everything in creation could achieve some uniform standard of perfection, we would find it boring.   It seems to be variety and diversity that most often attract us.

Beauty is mysterious.  It doesn’t give us answers or lend itself to a simple definition, but it does woo us, like an echo of God.  If we pay attention, it reveals a desire, a yearning for something more.  In Whistling in the Dark, Frederick Buechner describes beauty as, “…something you never get your fill of. It leaves you always aching with longing, not so much for more of the same as for whatever it is...”

Beauty helps us become attentive to new ways of living in the world.  As John O’Donohue (Beauty the Invisible Embrace) observes, “We were created to be creators.  At its deepest heart, creativity is meant to serve and evoke beauty.”

 So keep creating, adding beauty to the world. We all need “the echo of God” that uniquely lives in you.

Letting Italy Just Happen

The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing—to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from…my country, the place where I ought to have been born.  Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing?  The longing for home?  For indeed it now feels not like going, but like going back.  - C.S. Lewis

Borgo di Montemigiano, sketched on a previous trip to Italy.

Sometimes when visiting a beautiful place, or approaching a special occasion, I feel this pressure to really experience all its fullness.  I create these lofty expectations that it should be SO great and a weird scarcity mentality creeps in and creates a fear that I may miss out on all the greatness that the experience offers. It is the ultimate in FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out).  The writer/psychiatrist Curt Thompson describes it this way, “When desire is bent by our sense that the world is one of scarcity, it devolves into devouring.” 

As I write this, we are getting ready for a trip to Italy.  Beautiful Italy, with all her amazing art, delicious food, wonderful wine, and lovely people is like heaven to me.  I would love to visit all the things, and paint everything.  And yet, I experience frustration because #1, my limits with time, money, and talent.  And #2, I am traveling with a husband who may want to do some different things than I do (imagine that). 

As I expressed my anxiety and frustration to John, he suggested, “Why don’t you see if you can let Italy just happen to you?”  Hmmmm.  A novel idea. As I pondered his suggestion, I saw the wisdom of it. Here I was trying to create some imagined reality and getting stuck in my inability to do so.  And ironically, in my attempts to manipulate the experience, I was missing out on the beauty of the moment. 

So, what might it look like to let Italy just happen to us?  For me, I think it means showing up with a curious expectancy…what might happen here today? It means being honest with myself and with God about my desires while holding those loosely.  It means praying for flexibility and eyes to see His invitations. To be present to it happening to me.

The wonder of it is that God has given us desires, and those desires (imperfect as they may be) are like a trail of breadcrumbs that lead us to him.  He is our home, “the place where all the beauty comes from”.  The best days and experiences give us a little taste of what heaven holds for us.  And yet sometimes, the unexpected and flawed reality is “better than we could have asked for or imagined”. 

May we be people who learn to “let Italy just happen to us”.  May we allow God to hold our desires and give us the grace to see His goodness and beauty in our realities.

Is it possible to add more joy to our lives?

So, what, if anything, can do to add more joy to lives?  Is it possible to change our general outlook on life, even…or especially when we are living in a hard season?  How do we become more emotionally resilient people? This is obviously a bigger topic than this short article can cover in depth.  However, I did want to pass along what I have been learning this year.

In their book, The Other Half of Church, authors Jim Wilder and Michel Hendricks explain that “…joy is the fuel on which the brain was designed to run.”  They describe our brains as having a default emotional state, set during the first 18 months of life.  This should be joy, however, instead it is set to one of six unpleasant emotions that the brain recognizes—sadness, fear, anger, shame, disgust, and hopeless despair.  And this was set not by choice, but rather by what was happening in our early life. 

The hopeful news is that scientists have discovered that we can in fact rewire our brains.  The term neuroplasticity describes the brain's ability to form new neural connections, or pathways.  Wilder and Hendricks write, “We can reset our default emotional state to joy.  This happens in our brains as a response to repeated exposure to a state of gratitude.  Gratitude is the on-ramp for raising joy in our lives.”

Reliving memories for which we are grateful is one way the brain can form these new pathways.  Wilder and Hendricks offer us this simple practice to help us increase capacity for joy. It involves the use of our memories, especially those that help us feel grateful or connected to God.  It has been a helpful practice for me, so I wanted to pass it along.  I encourage you to read their book, too.

Gratitude Memories (from The Other Half of Church, by Wilder and Hendricks):

1.        Think of memories in your life for which you are grateful.  These memories can be big or small.  Each memory should have two characteristics: 1) you feel gratitude in your body, and 2) you feel a connection with God in the memory.

2.        As memories come to mind, give each a short title (“Goldfinch” or Balloon soccer”)

3.        Create a list of these titles.  (I keep them in my notes on my phone)

4.        Once a day, spend five minutes residing in gratitude using your list of grateful memories.  It is mostly nonverbal.  You are feeling a connection with God in your body as you relive memories of gratitude. 

5.        Once you can consistently sustain a solid five-minute state of gratitude, you are ready to start the Thirty-Day Joy Exercise.

The Thirty-Day Joy Exercise

1.        Spend 5 minutes of gratitude three times a day.  Consistency is key.

2.        Sometime during the thirty days, your brain will respond to this repeated exposure to gratitude.  It will reset your default emotional state to joy. 

 

Learning to Live with Limits

We can make ourselves whole only by accepting our partiality, by living within our limits, by being humans not trying to be gods. 

~Wendell Berry

I have so many ideas and dreams for my art business that I can visualize unfolding in beautiful ways.  But I wrestle.  I am disappointed with how slowly things move.  How slow I am.  I hear this little taunting voice that whispers, “If you just hustle hard enough, you can achieve whatever you want.” And yet, I sense God speaking to me about limits. Not coincidentally, this word keeps popping up everywhere. 

In his book Let Your Life Speak, Parker Palmer writes, “Our national myth is about the endless defiance of limits: opening the western frontier, breaking the speed of sound, dropping people on the moon… We refuse to take no for an answer. Part of me treasures the hopefulness of this American legacy.  But when I consistently refuse to take no for an answer, I miss the vital clues to my identity…”

 When we persist in defying our limits, we really are expecting ourselves to be superhuman, “trying to be gods” in the words of Wendell Berry.   The truth is we simply cannot do it all and when we believe we can, we are set up for disappointment, anxiety, and shame. 

 Recently I read about Peter’s denial of Jesus.  I always cringe when I imagine the rooster’s crowing and Peter’s shame.  I so wish he would’ve chosen differently.  But then this thought occurred to me…what if Peter needed to deny Jesus to see his own limitations?  In the earlier accounts of Peter, we see a brash, arrogant, impulsive, and strong-willed man.  He loved Jesus, but perhaps depended on himself and his abilities too much.  Maybe Peter had bought into the lie that Jesus loved him for what he was able to do?  Perhaps he needed to experience the love of Jesus in his brokenness and his sin, rather than in his giftedness. 

 Not surprisingly, Jesus shows us the way to embrace our limits.  After the resurrection, he appears to the disciples, who had been hiding in fear, behind locked doors.  Instead of coming in some sort of shiny-sparkly glory, Jesus embraces what is humble and ordinary about his resurrected (but still human) body, inviting them to look him over head to toe, touch his wounds, and give him some food. 

 So, what if we could trust God that our limitations might lead us to something even better?  That when a door closes, we can trust that good will eventually come from that no?  That listening to our limits leads us to become more whole and healthy people?