an unknowing.

"This is what you are to do: Lift your heart up to The Lord, with a gently stirring of love desiring him for his own sake and for his gifts.  Center all your attention and desire on him and let this be the sole concern of your mind and heart.  And so, diligently persevere until you feel joy in it.  For in the beginning it is usual to feel nothing but a kind of darkness about your mind, or as it were, a cloud of unknowing.  Try as you might, this darkness and this cloud will remain between you and your God. You will feel frustrated, for your mind will be unable to grasp him, and your heart will not relish the delight of his love.  But learn to be at home in this darkness.  Return to it as often you are can, letting your spirit cry out to him whom you love.  For, if, in this life, you hope to feel and see God as he is is in himself it must be within this darkness and this cloud.  But if you strive to fix your love on him forgetting all else, which is the work of contemplation I have urged your to begin, I am confident that God in his goodness, will bring you to a deep experience of himself.  

The Cloud of Unknowing, penned by an anonymous English Christian mystic 

in the Middle Ages, excerpt from Broken Open, How Difficult Times Can Help Us Grow, 

by Elizabeth Lesser.

inevitable.

It's going to happen no matter what I do to try and prevent it.  I have avoided feelings that come from explainable and unexplainable happenings.  I dove headfirst this week into what I know and can predict and can manage and can navigate and can accomplish. And I came up drenched in sadness and heartache and worry for all that I can't predict, manage, navigate and accomplish.

And then I find myself needing to reconcile the feelings.

Until...

I started reading God Of The Possible by Gregory Boyd.  He speaks of "open theism" a new way of thinking about an open view of the future vs. a predetermined belief system that says God has it all orchestrated (for me).  I've struggled with prayer lately (note: that is seriously as understated as saying I "like" wine and cigars).  I've felt indifferent and angry and frustrated and heartfelt and broken and unsure and terrified with God.  It's been the difference between knowing and unknowing.  If I believe God knows everything and everything is predetermined what difference do my prayers make?  Does God choose to know?  If so then my prayers don't really matter.  I've been a firm believer in "prayer doesn't necessarily change things it just changes me".  Ugh.  Does God choose not to know? If so then my prayers do matter.  And when I see and touch and feel and ache with the pain my daughters carry - I quite honestly don't give a shit about "prayer changing me".  I want prayer to change (fix) what they are up against and I want prayer to heal and mend and restore and make new. I want need to believe that He hears my holy cries for mercy and His tears fall with mine through the unexplainable.  I want need to believe His heart breaks open for all His children and He grasps mine and wraps them up with His grace... and... it's enough...for when the inevitable happens and it will and it does but with the God of the Possible anything can change... 

and I have to believe it does change.

I can't reconcile it all.

I can't predict it all.

I can't plan for it all.

but...

I can will pray for it all.

sweet and sassy girl

"...grace is found at the depths and in the death of everything." Richard Rohr, Immortal Diamond

Grace abounds, never more so than when faced with decisions that causes a crumbling of the heart.
We had to make a gut torn decision yesterday to put our inherited dog down.  We prayed and cried and screamed for signs that it was the right decision.  Looking back at all the moments that led up to the final one it is clear... that grace was the sign.  From the circumstances to the hands and hearts of the doctors to my drummer boy's tender heart (for a dog that pushed his buttons more days than not)...it was grace.  Grace has flowed this past week and continues this morning in every little memory.  She was the breathing loving thread that tied me to my mom (her mom).  I held her the same way I held my mom in those last few moments...yes... that too was grace.  And now I will depend on grace through the tears and heartache of letting go of that sassy little dog and I will depend on grace to be the new living thread.

Goodbye Ophelia...tell your mom, I miss her.

seeking shalom

"I have been surprised to find that I am given more life, more hope, more moments of buoyancy and redemption, the more I give up.  The more I let go, do without, reduce, the more I feel rich.  The more I let people be who they are, instead of cramming them into what I need from them, the more surprised I am by their beauty and depth." Shauna Niequist, Cold Tangerines: Celebrating the Extraordinary Nature of Everyday Life.  In this book Shauna speaks of shalom... the place she glimpses every once in a while.  She describes it as "the physical, sense-oriented, relational, communal, personal, ideological posture that arches God-ward."

I seek shalom.

Professionally...and personally.

Personally.  These last few months have been gravely.  There's been a wearing on my spirit that has weakened me. I've questioned everything. Suffocating regret. I've seen and felt and touched the effects of the choices I've made.  I've been humbled by it all and smashed to pieces by it all.  I've read the old and new of the holy book and prayed for wisdom and grace and forgiveness and beauty and might and hope...endless heaps of hope.  Indulgence.  I have wanted to stand in between it all, erase the pain I've caused, be the martyr, do anything to backspace it all.

It can't be undone.  Ever.

Professionally.  Transitioning has become this self-imposed tug of war with all my shattered pieces... Spent.

Shalom glimpses.

Maybe shalom is here.  Especially in this gravely can't be undone place.  It's in the richness of less. It's in the letting go... it's in the standing nakedness of it all.  It's in the girlfriends that know me and see me and protect the knowing and seeing. It's in the community that flourishes in the messy. It's in the raw gut wrenching honesty with my girls. It's in the delight and innocence of my grandchildren. It's in the melody of the 24 years with my drummer boy. It's in the terrifying beauty of what's next. It's in the believing of a mysterious provocative God.

Shalom is in the loveliness of the slivered pieces of my story. 

Shalom.

What she said.

I just emailed a friend and told her I've been wrestling with God over the beauty, bounty and struggle of our journey.  And then I read this blog...Did God Grow Tired? Did God Grow Tired?

Yeah, what she said.

an opening

"There is a door we all want to walk through and writing can help you find it and open it.  Writing can give you what having a baby can give you; it can get you to start paying attention, can help you soften, can wake you up." Anne Lamont

I had my storytelling coaching session last night.  I had no real expectations of what this was going to be like, I was just mostly anticipating being a bit star struck by this amazing young woman whose words always jump off her blog and attach to me like velcro.  We Skyped which provided way more dimension than talking on the phone.  I was star struck and in awe of they way she uses words, it's as if she actually creates them as she speaks them.  Her passion for writing is obvious.  She didn't tell me I could write or couldn't write, she didn't talk to me about my sentence structure or style of writing and to be quite honest I didn't ask (mostly because I only like to hear what I like to hear and what if she said my writing was horrific and I should jump to plan b...I don't have a plan b).

Maybe...how I write doesn't matter.  Maybe what matters... is that I write.

So...since I'm not going to have another baby...

I will write...
to be aware and present,
to record the moments of grace,
to speak of the beauty in the every day.

I will write...
to discover my "more".

I will write...
because it is an opening for me to explore and wander through my "in-betweeness".

Elora (storytelling coach) gave me much to ponder, none of which had to do with my ability or inability to write, mostly just my yearning to.

the in between

"There's a power that lives in the space between, that subtle instant when something ends and what follows next hasn't yet begun.  From the birth and death of galaxies, to the beginning and ending of careers and relationships and even in the simplicity of breathing in and out, creation is the story of beginnings and endings; cycles that start and stop, expand and contract, live and die. Regardless of the scale, between the beginning and the end there exists a moment in time when neither one has fully happened ... that moment is where magic and miracles come from....From this place were given the power to heal our bodies, change our lives, and bring peace to the world. " The Secrets of the Lost Mode of Prayer.

I'm in the in between.  I started my intermittent blogging almost two years ago, mostly as a tangible way for me to process my thoughts and perhaps write my story.  I'm a bit of a blog stalker...so when one of my "faves" (www.eloranicole.com) offered story coaching I gulped out loud and made an appointment with her.

She asked me to create a life inventory of my own (a bucket list of sorts...of things I've already done) and send to her before our meeting.  Our meeting is tomorrow.

This is my list today:

• i have loved and been loved by brave courageous women 
• watched silently from the living room doorway as my mom grieved the death of JFK
• listened silently as my mom sobbed over the death of her dad
• held her silently as my mom wailed over the death of her husband/my dad
• cradled her, read to here, massaged her feet and held her last tear when she died from pancreatic cancer (7 forever years ago today)
• witnessed the breathtaking beauty of the birth of my grandson
• breathed in the sweetness of my 4 hour old granddaughter
• pulled off the side of the road to watch the fireworks as my 2 year old daughter slept
• renewed wedding vows on my 5th anniversary in Aruba with an Italian priest in an old historical catholic church while tourists toured the church
• drank lemoncello in San Marco square in Venice
• finally came to terms with my frustration for golf but love for my dad
• got my motorcycle license and bought a bad ass harley
• spoke at a congressional briefing and lobbied on capitol hill
• helped to create legislation on a state level with my daughter
• met 1st Lady Hilary Clinton...met her again with my mom
• quit smoking
• hiked Superstition Mountain in Arizona
• resigned from comfortable and safe job
• met Jesus on a cross country trip
• was baptized with my husband
• celebrated a new year staying in with my love, getting dressed up, dancing to love songs and cooking a romantic dinner for two with linens, wine and candles
• put our 16 year old lab down
• walked my daughter down the "aisle"
• believed faith was enough
• knocked down a wall with a sledgehammer
• almost drowned
• started listening to my body
• sunbathed with an iguana
• felt God's breath on my neck as I held my daughters hand in ICU
• forgave...truly
• confronted and spoke the truth in a very difficult situation that hurt a relationship for over 6 years
• remembered the precise moment when man walked the moon, the Challenger exploded, Princess Diana died, Michael Jackson died and the Twin Towers collapsed
• asked the love of my life to marry me
• put our home phone number on a billboard
• felt unworthy
• learned to share my tears
• was tenacious and driven and fierce about finding a place to put my pain believing that I had an overwhelming responsibility to do something
• connected people
• leaned in more
• got a tattoo at 40 and a hysterectomy at 43
• believed in broken hallelujahs
• dreamt i could fly
• learned to become flexible
• told my therapist i read a lot and i'm not as smart as i think i am
• dropped out of kindergarten
• resisted the urge to measure my worth...often
• felt trapped...a lot
• quit dieting
• sought stories of truth and redemption and grace and beauty
• carried a lot ..mostly shame and the other shoe
• sometimes believed i had superpowers and could make my mom come back to life
• wondered if it's considered a risk when one believed wholehearted in jumping
• cried for an hour in the shower
• treasured the early morning going out to breakfasts with just me and my dad
• broke again and again and again
• was terrified of the phone ringing 
• gave birth to two beautiful daughters that have taught me more than they should have had to...
• believed i changed the world in a small way
• i survived something i shouldn't have and as a result lost a part of me
• almost lost both of my girls and unconsciously made an agreement with God over it all
• cherished listening and watching my drummer boy play music
• hated being wrong
• believed my mom when she said if you look really closely you can see the flag the astronauts stuck in the moon
• soaked in a hot tub in Upstate New York in December (outside)
• believed the most favorite part of me was my girls
• believed Grace was enough...sometimes