spirituality – Page 2 – Southwest Conference Blog

Think about what you believe. Then see if you believe what you think.

I like what Jesus did. He noticed what was going on for others, did what he could and moved on. Jesus did what he did as a matter of faith. He lived for what he believed and he died for what he believed. But his last words indicate that he did not know if it was worth it: “My God why have you forsaken me.” Jesus understood that when you know the right thing to do, but are not certain of the outcome, do it anyway. That’s all any of us can do.

A challenge of ministry is the futility of it all. If it weren’t for so darn many flawed human beings, clergy would be out of business. More congregations would be extinct and forming community would be left to amateurs. Professionally—or not—the key is to minister. Show up. Be present. Be in the practice of ministry, not the ministerial business.

The major religions of the world have one thing in common. No one knows anything. Religious practices are based on faith and belief, not proof and knowledge. We all are just trying to figure out where we come from, why we are here, and where we are going. The best we can do is employ words and symbols to express such concerns.

I like who Jesus was, and is. He still is, and will continue to be, for as long as he is remembered, thought about, and talked about. Jesus was anointed as the messiah by those who recognized him as the King of Kings, the Prince of Peace, the Lord of Lords, and the Son of God; not the Caesars, who claimed those titles for themselves.

When Jesus was confronted by the law-givers, who were out to do him in, he did not say he was the ‘only’ way to be in relationship with God. Jesus said: “I am the way.” I take that to mean, I am the way to be. Be the way I am.

Jesus is not some sort of magic man who did things we can’t do. He was not being modest when he said: “You will do greater things than I.” Jesus understood, hoped for, and trusted that every person is capable of being and becoming the soul that God intends for them to be.

It is tempting to give up on humanity, or to blame God in the context of overwhelming tragedies, horrors, and sorrows. It is seductive to settle for a life of distractions that prevent us from thinking about that which matters most.

I am a person of faith. I believe there is more to life than life itself, perhaps experienced in the afterlife as manifestations of consciousness and energy. I once told an atheist who ridiculed my faith, to try to be gracious should he meet God face to face.

God has given all of Creation everything we need. Everything in this world that is wrong, unfair, hostile, and unjust is on us. Trust the Spirit that is Holy within you. All that you experience and all that you do is part of the Eternal.

There is no my god, your god, or our god. There is one God, by a variety of names. The Church is a flawed institution, not the Kingdom of God. Individuals that understand the basics, fundamentals, and particulars of their own faith—and the faith of others—give me some hope.

It’s scary to contemplate our fate and to wonder where we came from, why we are here and where we are going. But do it anyway. When you are satisfied that you have all the answers start over. Think about what you believe. Then see if you believe what you think.

Over 25 years of ordained ministry the Reverend James Briney served congregations in Indiana, Michigan, Wisconsin, and Arizona. Early on, Jim earned degrees in Philosophy and Theology. He is retired and living in Oro Valley. (Photo by: Lou Waters.)

Being Soul-Centered

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

In his book, Soul Keeping, author John Ortberg writes about caring for the soul. He explains that Jesus calls us to a deep life, a life that pushes beyond everyday desires and interests. In one chapter, he describes how the soul needs a center; and I was particularly drawn to the idea that without a center, the soul is easily thrown, easily distracted, and easily destroyed.

Ortberg tells the story of being with friends at an open-air street market and how they all were drawn to a mechanical bull. Ortberg is talked into riding and reluctantly agrees to give it a try; but before he jumps on, he is given a few instructions.

“’There are twelve levels of difficulty on this bull,’ the operator explained. It might not be all that easy, but the key is you have to stay centered, and the only way to do that is to sit loose. People try to clamp on too tight. Don’t do that. You have to be flexible. If you think you can be in control of the ride you’ll never make it. You have to follow the bull. You have to keep moving. Shift your center of gravity as the bull moves.’”

Ortberg successfully managed to stay on the bull for a few minutes, thinking he had mastered every move of the mechanical animal, feeling quite pleased with himself and what he imagined was a natural ability to ride and not fall off. After the nods and smiles of congratulations from his friends, he turned to the operator, expecting some high praise. Instead what he heard was, “That was level one.” And Ortberg was soon taken to level two. He writes, “Level two lasted maybe a second. The bull won.”

We can ride a long time in level one. It’s not that hard to hang on and get through the easy, slow bumps in life. It’s when we’re hit with real suffering, thrown about in fits and starts by an uncontrollable ride that we really come to find out just how centered we really are and just how flexible we can be.

These are not easy days for any of us and we are truly being tested with how long we can ride, how easily we can hold onto to our faith without needing to control. We are in a season of rough riding and perhaps it is a season that can remind us to find our center, to stay connected to what feeds our souls, to loosen our grip on how we think things should go, trust that even if we fall, we land in grace, and then just stay engaged, stay in the ride for as long as it takes.

As we continue to watch wars escalate in the world, gun violence increase, suffering grow, let us dig deep, find the center of our souls, breathe into the moment and ride.

We are not alone.

The Power of the Float

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

One of my favorite activities is to float; but I find myself, especially in unfamiliar waters, not always able to let go and relax. I get anxious, worried about what might be beneath me or what might be coming my way; and when I do, it isn’t long before I began to sink.

Floating Takes Faith is the name of a book of essays written by Rabbi David Wolpe. In the essay with this title, Wolpe writes that even something as simple as honoring Shabbat can be hard. He writes that swimming requires us to kick, stroke, and move while floating asks us to be still, to trust the buoyancy of the water. In the ocean, he says, the swimmer propels his or her body under the wave but the floater rises on the crest. “Similarly, the one who works on himself or herself all week should aim to float on Shabbat. Floating will carry you higher than the often-strenuous effort of the week…Shabbat asks us to trust the wave of God’s world.”

Trusting the waves in an ocean is not always easy. Neither is always trusting God. Many times I’d prefer to swim over the choppy water, dive through the turbulence, not simply stretch out and ride it out. But faith requires us to believe in the goodness of God, to trust that even in the high or unsettled waters, we can look to God.

Dr. Jeremiah Wright tells the story of going out with his family on a boat for a day of deep sea fishing. After a couple of hours, he noticed that his eight year old daughter was missing. Frantically, they searched the boat only to find she was not anywhere on board. The crew finally decided that she must have fallen off the boat and the coast guard was called. Within minutes a rescue boat arrived. Dr. Wright joined the search crew and they began making concentric circles outward, with the charter boat as their center. The circles grew wider and wider, and then about 45 minutes after they started they spotted his daughter, lying on her back, bobbing in the water. When they got to her, they cut the engines off, and when they did, what they heard was this, an eight year old child singing a little song, floating on her back in the middle of the ocean, seemingly not even worried.

When they got to her in the boat, and after they knew she was all right, the captain asked Dr. Wright’s daughter what she thought about when she fell off the boat.

And she said, “Daddy always told me if I ever got in trouble when we were in the water, to just turn over on my back and float and to sing this song so I wouldn’t be afraid…’Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world.’”

And the Captain said, “So you weren’t afraid?”

And she said, “I was a little, but I knew that Daddy would be looking out for me, and that he would come and get me as soon as he knew I was gone.”

Whatever waters you find yourself in this week, remember that you can trust that you are not alone, that you will not drown. And go ahead, lean into the waters, close your eyes. Float.

Too Many Things

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

My grandmother used to have a favorite saying she liked to share whenever I had my arms full and dropped something I was carrying. “Never take a lazy man’s load.” It was her way of telling me that it’s better to take less things more times than it is to try and get it all in one trip. Trying to hold onto too much, she would explain, usually after everything I was holding dropped out of my arms, is a sure recipe for disaster.

I hear her voice inside my head every time I try to carry too many things, thinking I can manage extra bags or books or groceries, and I hear a “my, my, my…” after the accident happens, yet again. One would think that after fifty years of being taught that lesson, I would have learned it. And yet, it still always seems like I attempt to pile more things in my arms, try to carry more than I actually can.

Author Mark Nepo writes about a friend of his who had a similar problem; his, a self-induced fall. He had set out to paint a room in his house. He bought the supplies, drop cloths, paint brushes, cans of paint, mixing sticks, then mixed the paint, and got ready to enter the door to the house to start his project. Nepo’s friend explained, “I teetered there for minutes, trying to open the door, not wanting to put anything down. I was so stubborn. I had the door almost open when I lost my grip, stumbled backwards, and wound up on the ground, red gallons of paint all over me.”

Nepo goes on to write, “Amazingly, we all do this, whether with groceries or paint or with the stories we feel determined to share. We do this with our love, with our sense of truth, even with our pain. It’s such a simple thing, but in a moment of ego we refuse to put down what we carry in order to open the door. Time and time again, we are offered the chance to truly learn this: We cannot hold on to things and enter. We must put down what we carry, open the door, and then take up only what we need to bring inside.”

Both my grandmother’s “lazy man’s load” and Nepo’s “moments of ego” remind me that usually bad things happen when we try to carry too many things or stack too much on our backs, attempt to move forward by clinging to the past or refusing to let go of stuff. There is more calm and less drama, more peace and less disasters when we take things slowly, when we put things aside, when we allow ourselves the room and space to walk.

On the surface, attempting to do too many things at once doesn’t seem like the actions of a lazy person, but rather appears to be the work of an industrious being, a hardworking soul. And yet, to continue fooling yourself into thinking you’re able to keep too many balls in the air, more items on your list than you can remember, too many events for your mind to hold, too much in your bags to carry, will certainly leave you with the same thoughts and emotions as the painter covered in spilled paint.

“Never take a lazy man’s load,” I hear my grandmother say once again; and I sigh as I put down a bag of groceries, open the door, and take them in just one sack at a time.

The human desire to put God in a box

by Rev. Deb Church

“To what can I compare this generation? They are like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling out to others:

‘We played the pipe for you, and you did not dance;
we sang a dirge, and you did not mourn.’

For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon.’ The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Here is a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.’ But wisdom is proved right by her deeds.” (Matthew 11:16-19, NIV)

These verses are part of Sunday’s lectionary Gospel text, and they got me thinking about the human desire to put God in a box… Here are a few more contemporary examples (or perhaps you have your own):

“I prayed desperately to God that my sister would survive when she got cancer. She didn’t. People told me if I had prayed harder, she would have lived…”

“So many people all over the world are starving. How can there possibly be a loving God who allows that to continue to happen??”

“When I go to church, I want to be comforted and inspired. The new minister says things that make me feel bad, so I don’t go any more. I just don’t believe God wants me to feel bad when I go to church!”

“There are so many lies told in the name of God, so much hurt inflicted in the name of God– God, can’t you please just smite the people who are saying and doing those terrible, hurtful things??”

“It says in the Bible, ‘Women should be silent in the churches. For they are not permitted to speak but should be subordinate…’ [1 Corinthians 14:34, NRSV] It seems perfectly clear that there should not be women preachers!”

Like the people of Jesus’s time, we like to think we know God–how God will act, of whom God approves, when God will show up, why (and on whom) God will pronounce both favor and judgment, what God has to say about a certain situation, etc.

Like the people of Jesus’s time, we are also people of faith, and therefore, we know God. And we know those things about God.

Well, we think we know those things…because surely, we know God…

Okay, if we’re honest, we really want to know those things…because we desperately want to believe that we know God. Because if we can convince ourselves that we know God, then we can convince ourselves that we understand God. And we believe we understand God, then we can predict God’s involvement in our lives, and in our neighbors’ lives, and in the lives of folks all around the world. And if we can predict God’s involvement in the world around us, then we can count on God’s action, when and where and how we expect it. And above all, perhaps, we will be assured that what we’re saying and doing and thinking and believing about God is good and right and true (and…that “theirs” is not).

Like the people of Jesus’s time, we know not of what we speak…

Like the people of Jesus’s time, we know not of whom we speak…

Like the people of Jesus’s time, who were also people of faith, when we claim certainty about God, and about how and where and when and among whom God will show up in the world, we will almost certainly miss it…

Like the people of Jesus’s time, we must not put God in a box. Instead, Jesus challenges us to look for signs of God’s presence, as “proved…by her deeds.” (Matt. 11:19b)

When we see truth, there is God.
When we see kindness, there is God.
When we see justice with mercy, there is God.
When we see solidarity with those who are suffering, there is God.
When we see deep laughter, gentleness, humility, and wisdom, there is God.
When we see compassion, peace, joy, and generosity, there is God.
When we see healing and reconciliation, there is God.
When we see wholeness, there is God.
When we see love, there is God.

We cannot know with certainty how and where and when and among whom God will show up. But we can know without a doubt that God is present and at work, in our lives and in all of God’s creation.

Almighty and Tender God, may our eyes and ears and minds and spirits be open to truly know you, to humbly see you, and to courageously join you in your work in the world.

May it be so.

We have always existed

by Rev. Louis Mitchell, Senior Pastor at Rincon Congregational UCC

Wikipedia offers this: Jewish law, or halacha, recognizes intersex and non-conforming gender identities in addition to male and female. Rabbinical literature recognizes six different sexes, defined according to the development and presentation of primary and secondary sex characteristics at birth and later in life. Jewish literature describes what today would be referred to as intersex such as the concept of a Tumtum being a person of ambiguous gender and/or sex as is the concept of the androgynos, being a person characterized with elements of both sexes. One aspect of Gender and Jewish studies is considering how the ambiguity recognized in Rabbinical literature has been erased and constructed into a binary and how this translates into Jewish practices.

It’s also been amended by some to include eight gender designations found in the Talmud –
The 8 Talmudic genders identified are as follows:
(1) Zachar (male), (2) Nekevah (female), (3) Androgynos (having both male and female characteristics), (4) Tumtum (lacking sexual characteristics), (5) Aylonit Hamah (identified female at birth but later naturally developing male characteristics), (6) Aylonit Adam (identified female at birth but later developing male characteristics through human intervention), (7) Saris hamah (identified male at birth but later naturally developing female characteristics), and (8) Saris adam (identified male at birth and later developing female characteristics through human intervention).

But what is the Talmud?

The Talmud (/ˈtɑːlmʊd, -məd, ˈtæl-/; Hebrew: תַּלְמוּד, romanized: Talmūḏ) is the central text of Rabbinic Judaism and the primary source of Jewish religious law (halakha) and Jewish theology. Until the advent of modernity, in nearly all Jewish communities, the Talmud was the centerpiece of Jewish cultural life and was foundational to “all Jewish thought and aspirations”, serving also as “the guide for the daily life” of Jews.

The term Talmud normally refers to the collection of writings named specifically the Babylonian Talmud (Talmud Bavli), although there is also an earlier collection known as the Jerusalem Talmud (Talmud Yerushalmi). It may also traditionally be called Shas (ש״ס), a Hebrew abbreviation of shisha sedarim, or the “six orders” of the Mishnah.

The Talmud has two components: the Mishnah (משנה, c. 200 CE), a written compendium of the Oral Torah; and the Gemara (גמרא, c. 500 CE), an elucidation of the Mishnah and related Tannaitic writings that often ventures onto other subjects and expounds broadly on the Hebrew Bible. The term “Talmud” may refer to either the Gemara alone, or the Mishnah and Gemara together.

The entire Talmud consists of 63 tractates, and in the standard print, called the Vilna Shas, there are 2,711 double-sided folios. It is written in Mishnaic Hebrew and Jewish Babylonian Aramaic and contains the teachings and opinions of thousands of rabbis (dating from before the Common Era through to the fifth century) on a variety of subjects, including halakha, Jewish ethics, philosophy, customs, history, and folklore, and many other topics. The Talmud is the basis for all codes of Jewish law and is widely quoted in rabbinic literature.

I’m not a Hebrew scholar, but I wonder when these observations of our ancestors of faith became unacknowledged and a hard binary came into being.

Even as many feel that this “new thing,” gender expansiveness, is confusing and born in modernity, there is much evidence that we have always existed all over the world and in most every culture.

If you’re interested in learning more, check out https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transgender_history

All of this to say, names and pronouns are important. When someone trusts you enough to tell you who they are and how they’d like to be addressed, try not to take that tender trust lightly.

In our radical and expansive welcome, we will all have to learn, shift, and grow. I believe we’re ready and able to the task!

Be thoughtful, listen well, and love with your language.

Going To Camp

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

Every year in June I direct a camp in Blowing Rock, NC for developmentally disabled adults. Since moving to New Mexico, I have at times thought that it’s just too expensive and time-consuming to go back every summer, but as the time rolls around I realize I’m not just doing this because it’s a charitable thing to do or because the camp needs my help. I lead this camp, I participate, because it’s really the best thing I can do for myself and subsequently, the best thing I can do for my family and for everyone in my life.

I don’t exactly know why or how or when it happens, but at some point during the week of crafts and devotions and sing-alongs, the talent show and shared meals, I remember the person I want to be. I see the woman I desire to become. I find myself slowing down, paying attention to small things, saying thank-you more often, laughing at myself, holding hands with someone. At some point in the midst of the campers’ delight, their unique spiritual maturity and their special needs, I find myself more loving, kinder, a gentler spirit and I have to admit I am happy and relieved to find and be that woman again.

It’s not that I dwell in self-loathing. It’s not that I hate who I am the other 51 weeks out of the year. It’s just that I’m not always pleased with how I handle things, how I process events, how I participate in relationships. It just seems that so often during the rest of the year, the rest of my life, I hurry through the days and worry through the nights and I’m not always very nice or very hopeful and I look in the mirror and I’m not happy with who I see. Special Days, this camp I attend, puts me back on the spiritual track I try to follow. It makes me slow down, makes me be attentive to things going on around me, makes me sing and laugh and reach for the hand of somebody else. And somehow by Tuesday night while the campers congratulate each other on their great talents or Wednesday morning when we’re getting ready for the magician or the dance troupe, our entertainment for the week, or later that evening, dressing for the dance, I catch a glance of myself in the mirror and I see her. I recognize her, that woman I want to be. There she is, the kind woman, the loving woman, the gentle woman. And truth be told, I’m afraid that if I quit going to camp, quit participating in this summer experience, I will lose her forever and that I will not remember how to find her.

So, during the first week of June I will be in the mountains. I’m directing a camp called Special Days. I’m playing the guitar. I’m helping with crafts. I’m dancing. I’m serving meals and rocking in a rocking chair. I’m leading devotions and I’m laughing. And most importantly, I’m finding the woman I want to be. The good news for my family and friends is that when I come home I plan to bring her back!

Fall in Love

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

Since it’s the season of graduation and we get to hear lots of advice of how to live life, I decided to write my own little speech. It’s simple enough; my advice to graduates and to us all is to fall in love.

Fall in love with yourself, with being a child of God, created in that perfect image. Fall in love with your Creator who formed you in your mother’s womb, knitted you to be just as you are, while knowing who you will be. Fall in love with the miracle shining back at you in your reflection.

Fall in love with the world and its magic of starry nights and changing moons, yellow sun and greening earth. Fall in love with the dry desert soil with its hidden seeds and nutrients, with the tender shoot and thin blades of grass. The cottonwoods and rivers, the rocks and creeks and small speckled eggs of blue birds. Love the breeze that changes things, the drift of clouds across the sky, the lean of blooms on stalks to light. Love the color of things, the way the world turns and breathes and tilts. Fall in love with this round planet with its vast horizons and deep waters, its layers of ash and stone and dirt.

Fall in love with your family, mothers and fathers and embarrassing uncles, your siblings, your spouse and your children, how they all learned your dark secrets and still make a place for you and call it home. For the moment that your beloveds took your breath away, remember that, hold onto it, and never ever let the memory of that moment leave you.

Fall in love with being yoked, with having companionship and friendship, with promises made even while knowing how hard they are to keep. Fall in love with the stuff you build together, the places you go, the dreams you make, the inside jokes that only you know. Fall in love with all of those connected to you because marriage and family and friends are what will hold you up when the earth quakes and everything shatters and they are the ones who sooner or later will have to take your calls. That’s just what they do, so fall in love with that.

Fall in love with Saturday mornings with their chores and games, with church and the silence arriving in prayer, with Thursday night spaghetti and Tuesday’s breakfast cheerios, and the taste of ripe strawberries and the smell of a burger on the grill and the chill of ice cold lemonade sliding down the back of your throat.

Fall in love with the way your body moves, for the delight it feels, the touch of water and sun, the hand caressing yours and the ache in muscles well used, for eyes that see and ears that hear and arms that can hold more than you thought, feet that take you from here to there, your heart that breaks and heals, breaks and heals.

Fall in love with the moments that make you laugh so hard you hurt and the ones you wish you could take away or at the very least, forget. Fall in love with them all because every one of them makes up this life that is yours, this life that is you.

Fall in love with what you have and what you want and fall in love with giving it all away because in the end we discover that it is never the things we own that make us happy. Fall in love with mercy and forgiveness and the unpredictability that is forged within the hours of every single day. With hope and faith. Fall in love with love, the love that makes you patient and kind and keeps you from being rude and irritable or having to have your own way.

Fall in love because all of it, all of this, all of life happens so fast and it is all so meaningful and not, important and not, necessary and not; so that the only thing that really lets you surrender at the end of it all is to know quite simply that you have experienced the sweetest and most thrilling part of what it is all about anyway, but only if you fall in love.

Mothering the World Right Now!

by Kay Klinkenborg, (Church of the Palms member), MA, Spiritual Director, Member Spiritual Directors International, Retired: RN, LMFT, Clinical Member AAMFT)

What is not in turmoil is easier to answer than list what is in turmoil in this world and on Earth. Climate change roaring; wars; politically divided countries; democracies fighting for their life; missing Indigenous women and children; mass shootings; trafficking; institutional and personal racism (in all its forms); addictions; more immigrants in the world than those that have a place to call home and we fear the list will run into eternity or the end of the planet upon which we live. What are we to do?

I reel at times with the realities of destruction, pain, terror I witness in the news. How do I stay centered; stay focused on what my core knows is true: LOVE…the world needs love.

Instantly my feminine energy kicks into gear. Mothering. Creation has been ‘mothering’ since the beginning. God speaks of ‘we’ in Genesis; not alone as Creator. Then other Hebrew Scriptures speak of Sophia, Wisdom; which has been interpreted by highly respected theologians as the feminine side of God.

The Talmud also introduces the term Shekhinah to connote God’s presence in the world. Though the term is grammatically feminine, in the Talmud it is not explicitly gendered, though in some passages it refers to moments when God shares in human experiences of loneliness, loss, and exile.¹

In the case of Jewish thought, grammar at times meets theology in as much as impersonal Hebrew nouns are gendered, so that words like hokhmah (wisdom) and shekhinah (presence) over time lent themselves by virtue of their feminine.¹

In fact, the personal name of God, Yahweh, which is revealed to Moses in Exodus 3, is a remarkable combination of both female and male grammatical endings. The first part of God’s name in Hebrew, “Yah,” is feminine, and the last part, “weh,” is masculine.²

I am pleased that I can attest to many men I know that use ‘mothering characteristics’ in their relationships and interactions. I am not suggesting that this is a woman’s task at all. In fact, I think history and biblical interpretations show us that feminine traits are revered. And our world right now needs that kind of love!.

Remember the famous song: “What the World Needs Now is Love, Love, Love.” One word most will resonant with to describe that is a verb: mothering.

Since the beginning of time…’mothering’…to nurture…to care for…to watch after’ has and does occur. It had to have occurred or evolution would not have sustained, extended or be continuing. As the human species evolves our archeological discoveries tell us that ‘mothering’ occurred. It is nature’s form of care taking, survival of the species.

One major thing I continue to learn and have reinforced: ‘getting out of God’s way’. My instinctual need to control, be in charge is being challenged. I am learning more about the spiritual discipline of surrender. Let God evolve. There is no surprise there is mass turmoil. There have always been pandemics, disasters, wars, a disappearance of life as we understand it. None of this is news. Yes, we live in a more informed world, and more technology but the real truth is human’s are still evolving and every generation has to learn for themselves what is means to be human, to love and have relationships with all peoples and creation. Our ownership that this can happen to us is what is new. This is nature. This is the evolving of life in this known Universe.

I have found myself ‘should-ing’; I should do this; I should say that; I should not be having this fear and anxiety. A sampling of my should list. What about ‘mothering myself’? What about starting there in order to have the energy and compassion to extend to others? If I can have compassion for my own journey/feelings during this extraordinary time in history, will not that enable me to understand/hear and have compassion beyond myself. Then I am ready to extend ‘mothering’.

Only in self-compassion and owning my own emotions in this particular journey will I then have the energy and compassionate response to others to be mothering the world. Mirabai Starr writes in her book Wild Mercy: Living the Fierce and Tender Wisdom of the Women Mystics, “…we need a mothering of the world together right now.” We need that feminine energy that is male and female brought forth to face these challenges.

I want to explicitly point out the fact that women who have not born children… mother; men… mother, It is part of our innate design if we own that part of ourselves. A friend taught me a profound lesson about mothering;

One particularly Mother’s Day, I was quite depressed; estranged from our son and blaming myself for his adult choices. A friend sent me a text that day that knew of the circumstances. “Kay, you have been mothering people your entire adult life. As a nurse, friend, manager, counselor, consultant and the list goes on. So today claim all the mothering you have and do. Let that bring comfort.”

So I am challenging myself as I write to this audience, let my ‘mothering show forth’; let my love be visible and make me an instrument that releases a song of ‘Love, Love, Love…’

Going on without denying any aspect of the human drama is what strength is all about. We are carved by life into instruments that will release our song, if we can hold each up to the carving.
Mark Nepo

^1”Feminine Images of God”: Yehudah Mirsky, Jewish Women’s Archive.

²CBE (cbeinternational.org) (Christians for Biblical Equality). “The Feminine Imagery of God in the Hebrew Bible.” Joan P. Schaupp | October 30, 2000.

Crawling Out of the Hole

by Jane Jones*

I’m constantly amazed at how the Holy One works – we just have to learn to (as my Gramma Milly would say), “Let go. Let God.”

I suppose I can admit to the fact that as a lifelong “fixer” this is one hard task! I’m used to being in charge of something – I’ve trusted what I’ve known as “The Voice” my whole life, and so when I feel called to take on a challenge, I tend to step up to the plate and get to work.

Often, I’m successful in these attempts, because I believe the Holy One uses me as a tool for the good in this world. I feel humble and grateful to be chosen to help…but what happens when you suddenly find yourself on the other end of fixing?

Four years ago, real life of a different type happened and suddenly, I was the one who needed help at the deepest level anyone could know. A relationship I treasured and totally devoted myself to suddenly ended; my marriage of 22 years ran into a cement wall. I was blind-sided, shocked, heartbroken. In one day, my whole world took a 180-degree turn.

The circumstances swirling around it were ugly, very public, and it all ripped me apart. So much pain, so much doubt about myself, so many details forcing me to step into a life I truly never expected to live – on my own.

I went down a very dark hole, doing all the things another instinct tells us to do to ease the pain, and I wondered how I’d ever crawl out of it again.

This Fixer was in desperate need of being brought back to life.

Here’s the part where the God reveals just how amazing a Being God is…

At the worst time I’ve ever experienced, I was surrounded by a cloud of atypical saints, (most of them not people of faith!) and each one of them contributed to the healing journey I found myself on.

I truly was never alone.

Did you know that the God has many disguises? Do you remember that Spirit can show up in the oddest places at just the right moment (in the wrong place) to give you a poke, reminding you who and Whose you are? Did you know that getting through a life-changing event can change you in ways you never thought you would know and understand; dropping new hope, new strength, new life right at your feet?

These aren’t just buzz words thrown at us during a sermon in any church…this is absolute Truth.

I know this, because I’ve been constantly in awe of how the Holy One works – how the Holy One reaches out – always, and often when you least expect it.

With honest love from friends, family, even people I didn’t know personally, I’m finding my way back. I’m crawling out of that dark hole, one step at a time. I’m also learning about real forgiveness – God’s trademark – and true peace.

The newer me is a modified version for sure, (and a better one, I think) – and as I squint each morning at a much brighter day ahead, I find that I’m not the only one who has suffered such loss. There is so much to grieve about in this world these days…The Voice is telling me that it’s time to get to work again.

What’s different, though, is that instead of being a fixer, I’m now a “mender” because we’re all in this together. We need to patch up the torn places…and keep going.

It feels good to step up to the plate again.

Thanks, Holy One.

*Jane Jones served as the licensed pastor for First Congregational Church in Prescott from 2009 – 2015, has been SWC’s Moderator and Moderator Elect, is almost a former member of COCAM B, and currently sits in on Faith Formation ZOOM meetings. She will be one of the facilitators at the “Doing Grief Community Healing Project” at Church of the Palms in Sun City.