It’s the first month of a new year and a new decade, and our newsfeeds are overflowing with suggestions and advice for making resolutions, setting goals, and chasing dreams. It’s enough to make even the most motivated go-getters among us feel guilty. Now, I don’t have anything against goals and dreams. They’re an important and necessary part of life. But here’s what tends to happen. As our culture overemphasizes the importance of doing, we wind up neglecting the necessity of simply being. And when we don’t spend enough time simply being, our lives can become seriously imbalanced. Picture an old-fashioned balance scale where one side is more heavily weighted than the other, or a pile of blocks or rocks that is about to topple over. When our lives are out of balance like that, we wind up exhausted, depleted, and discouraged.

Have you ever been there? I sure have. And if our busyness is compounded by difficult circumstances such as health challenges, family issues, work demands, or loss, it can be overwhelming. I’ve learned that exhaustion, depletion, and discouragement are sure signs that things have become more than a little imbalanced and I need to “adjust the scales," giving more time and attention not only to my physical condition but also to my interior life and connection with God.

Attending to our interior life is essential to our health and wholeness, and it includes paying attention to our motivations for busyness. Sometimes the culprit is the feeling that we have to measure up—whether it’s for others, ourselves, or even God. As I’ve walked with others on their journeys, many have told me that they believe they are displeasing God if they’re not continually doing and accomplishing things or improving themselves.

Admittedly, letting go of striving is not easy in our performance-based culture, especially if we’re pleasers by nature or we have a loud inner critic; but it’s necessary if we are to find more balance and peace. For you this might require learning to recognize people-pleasing habits or co-dependency, healing your image of God, practicing healthy boundaries, or embracing how God sees you. It might mean breaking free of the mindset that you have to perform for God and learning to receive from God, which is what produces the fruit of God’s love in and through us. If we are to serve effectively in this world, we must take regular pauses to attend to our bodies, souls, and spirits. We must learn to rest in God.

Resting in God doesn’t come naturally to most of us. That’s why it’s helpful to have others in our lives (such as spiritual companions or mentors) who know the way and can guide us toward rhythms that enable us to slow our pace and turn down the noise of life. Three practices that are invaluable on this interior journey with God are solitude, stillness, and silence.

If we’re honest, many of us run from anything that requires us to be alone, still, or silent. We may try it once and feel uncomfortable, and then we’re hesitant to try it again. We need to remember that they are called spiritual practices because they take practice; and pushing through our resistance leads to great benefits. Others of us are afraid to give ourselves permission to slow down and be still. In our doing-obsessed culture, those of us who can’t or won’t keep up often feel less than and left out. We feel guilty when we have seasons of inactivity and rest. Yet by divine design, everything God has created participates in the cyclical nature we witness in the seasons. There can’t be a spring without a winter (something I remind myself often during the dreary days of January). Just as the dormancy of winter is necessary for the new birth of spring, so every living thing God has created needs cycles of activity and rest—and we are no exception.

Solitude, stillness, and silence make space for us to experience and rest in God. Though it may seem counterintuitive, pausing from our busyness to attend to our inner life actually teaches us to be even more present in the midst of the activity of life. I love these words of Eckhart Tolle: “To be aware of little, quiet things, you need to be quiet inside.”* Learning to be quiet inside helps us to become aware of the many beautiful gifts that each day brings—gifts we tend to overlook when we are focused on doing and striving.

Here’s an encouraging word for all of us. Although we need solitude, stillness, and silence, we don’t necessarily have to practice all three postures at once. In fact, Christopher Heuertz explains that each of us benefits from one posture more than the others, depending on our particular personality bent or type. (To learn more about that, check out his book The Sacred Enneagram.) I find this fascinating—and freeing. Who says resting in God has to be boring? Sometimes it might look like contemplative prayer and meditation, journaling, or reading and praying the scriptures; but other times it might mean going for a walk, playing or listening to music, painting or creating, or so many other things—even taking a nap. (Honestly, sometimes a nap is the most spiritually replenishing thing we can do!) I encourage you to find the times, places, and ways you are most drawn to resting in God. The idea is to attune your heart to God, let go of all striving, and simply receive His love.

The start of this new year and decade seems like a good time to make adjustments and seek more balance. Let’s give ourselves permission to be less consumed with doing and more intentional about simply being, enjoying God’s presence and realizing that we are loved just as we are. And whenever we realize that things are out of whack again, as they inevitably will be, let’s give ourselves grace and simply reset once more. Seeking balance is an ongoing process, and perfection is never the objective—because let’s be real, no one’s life is perfectly balanced. Not even if it looks that way on social media. As you seek more balance in 2020, may you be kind to yourself, breathe, and be.
 
 For Reflection:

• What will it look like for me to adjust the scales in my life this year?
• What are some ways I can incorporate more solitude, silence, and stillness in my life?
• Which practice or posture is most appealing to me?
• What are some specific ways I enjoy connecting with God?

 
If you think you'd benefit from a companion or guide on your journey to seek more balance this year, I invite you to contact me and/or schedule a free consultation to explore the possibilities together.

*Eckhart Tolle, Guardians of Being: Spiritual Teachings from Our Dogs and Cats (Novato, CA: New World Library, 2011).

I bought my first Christmas gift just two days ago, the day after my father’s funeral.

The tree and decorations are up, but the tree still isn’t decorated.

I haven’t baked one Christmas cookie or goodie, and it seems I’ve missed all the holiday parties and celebrations this year.

Our family has had two major losses in 2019, and the realization that both of my parents are now gone from this earth is so very strange and overwhelmingly sad—even at my age. How is it possible to feel so low…and so loved at the same time?

Jesus.
Emmanuel.
God with us.

The God-child born in a manger grew to be a man who loved us so much that He suffered and died, rose from the dead, and sent His Spirit to be with us as Comforter and Counselor. Not only with us, but actually within us. This is the gift of Christmas. God's love incarnate. God's love with us. It is a gift meant for each of us. And we don’t have to buy it, earn it, or deserve it. In fact, we can’t.

We simply receive it.

Receive. That is what I’m doing this Christmas. It doesn’t come naturally for me—this Enneagram 2 who likes to help and do for others. But receiving is essential. And receiving God’s love, which comes to us in so many ways, is a holy practice. I believe that’s what we’re meant to do first and foremost—not only at Christmas, but each day of the year.

They say it's better to give than to receive, but we cannot give what we haven't received. Sometimes we receive the idea of God's love without fully receiving the experience of His love. And it is the experience of God's love that heals and transforms us.

So, that is what I’m focusing on this Christmas—actually experiencing and receiving God’s love in all the many ways He is showering it upon me. Those ways include acts of love and kindness from many of you who may be reading this—visits, calls, cards, meals, gifts, and acts of service—as well as random acts of kindness from complete strangers. And there are less tangible ways, such as memories, words and images of scripture, and all of the beauty I see around me. Yes, I am sad, but I am loved. And for that I am grateful.

If you feel sad and low this season, whether from loss or hurt or disappointment, I pray you will join me in focusing on receiving. Even without decorations, presents, or parties, Christmas will come. In just a few days we will celebrate the greatest gift of all, the gift of God’s love with us. My prayer is that whatever circumstances or emotions you might find yourself in right now, you will allow yourself to receive.

The holidays are upon us, and though there’s a song that says, “It’s the most wonderful time of the year,” the truth is that it can be a time of both joy and anxiety. Besides the stress of busy schedules filled with a myriad of tasks and activities, there can be a heightened sense of uneasiness for those who are experiencing grief, disappointment, or difficulty. Though there are no quick and easy fixes for anxiety, particularly if it is chronic or acute, there are some basic “first steps” (not solutions) that can help to point us in the right direction when we find ourselves in the midst of an anxiety-producing situation. Because I love alliteration and storytelling, I’d like to offer three S’s for addressing anxiety by sharing a recent anxious episode from my own life.

I woke up and glanced at the clock. It was 5:15 a.m., and I had set alarms on both my phone and Fitbit for one hour earlier so that I could get to the airport and catch an early-morning flight home from a business trip. I knew I was tired, but I couldn’t believe that I had slept through two alarms—especially one buzzing on my wrist. I threw some clothes on, ran a brush through my hair, and sprinted out of the hotel as I called out my room number to the clerk behind the front desk and said, “Just email me the receipt!”

​The drive to the airport was challenging in the early-morning darkness. Although the WAZE app is usually my friend, it didn’t recognize the difference between the access road and the interstate that ran parallel to it, which caused me to miss the on-ramp and to drive for many miles wondering if I’d ever be able to get onto the road I could see but not access. Oh, the irony of the term access road, I thought to myself with my hands tightly gripping the steering wheel.

I didn’t know if I would make my flight or be able to get another one later that day, and I realized that I had a choice: allow the cortisol coursing through my body to call the shots, or surrender the situation to God. So, I began to pray: “Lord, I have absolutely no control over my situation right now, and I release it to you. Whatever happens, I know you’re with me.” Then I began to breathe slowly and deeply, saying a favorite breath prayer with every inhale and exhale. My prayer was an invitation for God to ease my anxiety and give me His peace. Finally, I found an entrance to the interstate; and for the rest of the drive to the airport, WAZE led me faithfully as I continued to breathe and pray.

This brings us to the first S...

As I pulled into the rental car garage, I tried to follow the signs to the right company but found myself on the wrong level. Rather than being able to back up or turn around, I had to exit and loop around and enter the garage again, taking even more time. When I finally pulled into the correct rental car area, I jumped out of the car, grabbed my suitcase, and dashed toward the terminal as I called out to the attendant, “Just email me the receipt!” (I laughed at myself as I realized this was the second time that morning I had said those words while running.) Along the way my phone buzzed, and it was a notice from the airline saying that my flight had been delayed thirty minutes. A reprieve! If I hurried, I might actually make it.

I maneuvered quickly through the airport and found my way to the security line. I’m sure I look like a hot mess, I thought as I caught the curious glance of another traveler in line. And then it hit me: something was missing—the weight of my computer bag. I must have left it in the rental car. Exiting the line quickly, I began to jog back toward the rental car garage with my suitcase in tow. Along the way, I stopped just long enough to pull out my phone and send a quick text to my husband: “Please pray. Left my computer in car and trying to get it back in time to catch flight.” I knew God was with me, but in that moment I needed to know that another human being was “in it” with me too. He immediately responded, “Praying…I love you! I know you are tired.” Those few simple words buoyed my soul. I felt seen, known, and loved.

This brings us to the second S...

When I made it back to the rental car area, I found the attendant who had checked in my car, explained the situation to her, and asked if she could help me. She said she would contact the driver who had taken the car to the holding area and ask him to look for my bag. I must have looked at my watch dozens of times in those ten to fifteen minutes that I waited. Yet I knew that if I missed my flight, it would be okay. And even if my computer wasn’t found, somehow that would be okay too. I knew I wasn’t alone and that others were there to help me. When I finally saw a gentleman approaching me with my computer bag on his shoulder, I was incredibly relieved and grateful. He seemed a little surprised when I ran over and gave him a big hug, saying, “Thank you! God bless you!” But as I turned to make my way back to the terminal, he smiled and wished me safe travels. Somehow, I managed to make it through security and get to my gate with a few minutes to spare.

This brings us to the third S...

After boarding the plane and getting settled in my seat, a woman with a service dog stopped in the aisle beside me and said, “Would it be okay if we sat here?”

“Sure,” I said. “What’s your dog’s name?”

“Little Girl,” she answered. I laughed because, as a full-grown greyhound, she was anything but little. The woman explained that she had boarded too late to get one of the front seats where Little Girl would have room to lie down. I learned that greyhounds find it difficult to sit and prefer to lie down, but there wasn’t room for either in our row. So, throughout the flight Little Girl stood cramped between our knees and the seats in front of us, shaking whenever there was turbulence. Her owner and the other two of us sitting in our row took turns stroking her back and speaking softly to her, trying to comfort her.

Though Little Girl is a service dog, not an official comfort dog, she provides both comfort and assistance to her owner. But in those moments during the flight, it was Little Girl who needed comfort. During our extra turbulent descent, I reflected on the fact that all of God’s creatures deal with anxiety, and we need one another in this bumpy journey through life.

As you make your way through the weeks ahead, there may be a few bumps and dips along the way. I encourage you to give yourself and others extra grace by remembering that no one is exempt from stress and anxiety, especially during such a busy and emotionally-charged season. And I hope that the three S’s will be helpful to you as “first steps” in responding to anxiety:

1. Surrender the situation to God. Recognize what you can't control and acknowledge that you need God’s help. The only thing we truly have control over is ourselves and how we respond. This is not a once and done step but an ongoing process we repeat again and again.
2. Share what’s going on with someone safe. Admit to someone you trust what’s happening and how you feel about it. Acknowledging and sharing our challenges and our feelings brings relief and hope. We are not meant to suffer in isolation but to find comfort and encouragement in relationship. (If you don't have a safe person in your life, a counselor and/or support group can help to guide you on how to seek safe relationships.)
3. Seek the help you need. In whatever situation we might find ourselves, there are always resources that can help us. Asking for help is a critical step in alleviating anxiety, particularly ongoing or acute anxiety. You may not even know what kind of help you need, and that's okay. Allow the safe person you reached out to in step 2 to help you determine a next step, or identify someone who might be better equipped to suggest the resources you need. (Note: If anxiety continues for more than two weeks or is debilitating, please seek the help of a medical doctor and/or counselor.)

 
When you start to feel anxious, review the three S's in your mind and ask yourself, "What do I need to surrender? Who is someone safe I can share with? And what help do I need to seek?" Above all, remember that whatever you might be experiencing or feeling in any given moment—from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows—God sees you, knows you, and loves you. He is an ever-present help in time of trouble (Psalm 46;1), and He will never leave you (Hebrews 13:5). If that is difficult for you to believe right now, then reach out to someone who can come alongside you and believe it for you. My prayer for you in this season is that you will know you are not alone.

Have you ever felt like you were on autopilot? In the midst of your daily routine, you find yourself going through the motions, moving from one thing to the next without much thought or even awareness. I don’t know about you, but it often happens to me when I’m driving—especially when it's a route I take daily—or when I'm doing a repetitive, monotonous task. Now, there’s nothing wrong with routine. In fact, it gives us a sense of security. There’s something comforting about familiarity. That’s why we like sitting at the same place at the kitchen table and shopping at the same grocery store where we know where to find everything. (And, Lord, help us when they reorganize the store shelves and it takes us twice as long to finish our shopping, right?) But sometimes familiarity can lull us to sleep, so to speak—whether it’s in our daily work, our relationships, or even our spiritual lives.

Spiritually speaking, sometimes we find ourselves “sleep walking” through life, not being fully aware of what God is doing within us and around us. If we want to grow spiritually and draw closer to God, we have to "stay awake" to God’s presence, paying attention to the many ways God is moving, working, and speaking in our lives. A wonderful practice that can help us open our eyes to the specific ways God is continually expressing his love  and offering his comfort and guidance is the Daily Examen.

We can thank Saint Ignatius of Loyola, who lived in the sixteenth century, for this simple and powerful prayer method. Ignatius believed that the Examen was a gift from God that should be shared as widely as possible, and he suggested that it was the most important habit a person could do each day. Perhaps that’s why Christians throughout the centuries have incorporated this prayer practice into their daily routine. I was first introduced to the Examen a few years ago and used it sporadically for a while; but since I have been practicing it regularly, I have been able to see God in my days with even more awareness and gratitude--including those times when I find myself struggling or feeling stuck.

If you Google the Examen, you will find a variety of approaches, many of which outline a simple five-step process. Here is my adaptation of that process:

1. Quiet yourself and become aware of God’s presence.
2. Review the day, replaying it as if you’re watching a movie. As you do, notice one high and one low—what you are most grateful for and what you are not so grateful for. Give thanks where there is gratitude, and be authentic where there is none.
3. Pay attention to the emotions you felt in those moments. What does each emotion reveal to you? What is God saying to you through these feelings?
4. Now choose one “scene” (one moment or experience), and pray from that place. Receive whatever gifts of love, comfort, or grace God offers you.
5. Look toward tomorrow with hope as you savor and rest in God’s love.

 
It doesn't take long to move through these five steps, but if you'd like an even more streamlined version, you can simply recall something from your day that you are grateful for and something you're not so grateful for, talking to God about each. Or you could think in terms of what was life-giving and what was life-taking, or when you felt close to God and when you didn't. Whichever approach you choose, prayerfully reviewing the day in this way can help you to recognize God’s presence and activity in and around you, drawing your attention to gifts and graces that you might otherwise overlook.

The key is in noticing the details of the day, such as sights, sounds, conversations, smells, feelings, tastes, and even tactile experiences. Nothing is too small to notice—the taste of a meal, the fragrance of a flower , the song of a bird, a gentle breeze in the hot sun, the sight of a beautiful sunrise or sunset, the embrace of a loved one, a conversation with a sweet friend, a kind word from a stranger. Even noticing the unpleasant or difficult moments can lead you to a place of authenticity with the Lord, allowing you to share your truest self with God and then open yourself to receive God’s love, comfort, and grace.

With practice it becomes easier to remember the details of the day; and in time, you may begin to realize that you're more mindful of these moments as they are occurring in real time and how they are leading you either toward God or away from God. You may even begin talking with God about these inner movements as they happen, rather than waiting until you revisit them during the Examen. And that, after all, is the goal of the spiritual life—to experience God at all times, so that we have the awareness, just as Jesus prayed, that he is in us and we are in him (John 14:20).

There's no right or wrong way to practice the Examen, just as there's no right or wrong time. You might try doing the Examen at night before going to sleep, ending with what you are grateful for and savoring the sense of God’s loving presence as you drift off to sleep. Or, you might prefer to make the Examen part of your morning routine, reviewing the previous day’s events at the start of a new day. Either way, it’s a wonderful habit that can help you to “stay awake” to God’s continual presence in your life with an increasing sense of gratitude. Writing a few notes in a journal or daily planner can be a great complement to the Examen, creating a record of God's activity in your life.

For me, one of the gifts of the Examen has been a heightened sense of God’s companionship throughout the day, even in the more difficult or challenging moments. I’m also discovering that the longer I practice this simple way of paying attention to God’s presence, the easier it becomes to let go of those things that are truly inconsequential. And that’s an amazing gift in and of itself!

One night I was feeling burdened and having difficulty falling asleep. As I prayed the Examen, I found myself stuck in the disappointments of the day, unable to move on to gratitude. So I allowed myself to continue sharing those moments and my emotions resulting from them with God, just as I would with a trusted friend who was willing to listen as long as needed. It was like unstopping a clogged drain so that the water could flow freely again. Only then was I able to recall several gifts of the day—each so basic and simple and yet, as I realized while reliving them, incredibly significant. As I replayed in my mind the intricate beauty of a simple flower in a vase on my kitchen table, God spoke to me of his love and care for me—just as he cares for the lilies of the field (Matthew 6:28-29). Eventually, I was able to drift off to sleep, savoring that very simple gift with deep gratitude.

If you'd like to become more aware of God's continual presence, noticing him in the details of your life, I encourage you to try the Daily Examen. This simple practice has made a profound difference in my life, and I hope it will do the same for you. My prayer is that it would help you to remain fully awake to God, recognizing the magnitude of his loving care for you at all times—every moment of every day.

“Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).
You may be familiar with this well-known verse. If so, chances are that you’ve seen it on a meme or coffee mug or T-shirt. It’s that kind of popular—which is reason enough not to choose it for the name of your blog, right? After all, blog titles are supposed to be unique. So why did I choose a phrase from a popular Bible verse? 
 
Well, Psalm 46:10 is a verse I’ve known most of my life, but it came to life for me in a powerful way one day when I experienced a guided meditation that had me prayerfully reflect on the verse in four phrasings, like this:
 
Be still and know that I am God.
Be still and know.
Be still.
Be.
 
After meditating on each phrasing, I was to consider which one resonated most strongly with me. Now, this is the kind of exercise where you’re likely to respond differently on any given day, depending on what’s going on in your life and heart. 
 
Let’s say that one day things aren’t going as you planned, and you’re feeling discouraged and defeated. On that day you might need the reminder that God is still in control and very much with you despite the uncertainty you’re experiencing: “Be still and know that I am God.”
 
Another day you’re running from one thing to another, frantically trying to cram it all in and not really being present or enjoying any of it. On that day “Be still” might speak volumes to your soul, encouraging you to slow down and breathe. 
 
On yet another day you’re tired and worn out—whether from good things or difficult things—and you just need permission to simply “Be.” To be your true self and sit in God’s presence.
 
Well, on this day none of those phrasings resonated strongly with me. Instead, it was the second phrase, “Be still and know,” that arrested my attention. I was surprised by this—and even a little disappointed, if I’m honest—because all of the other statements are more definitive. This one seemed incomplete. “Be still and know what?” I asked. As I sat in silence, patiently listening, the answer came quietly as a whisper: “Whatever you need to know.” 
 
In that moment I knew this was the voice of God, reassuring me once again with a profound message. You see, for much of my life I was one to question and second-guess, and this tendency extended to my spiritual life as well. Was that really God? Could that have been God speaking, or was it just me? How can I know for sure that I’m hearing God? And on and on. (Have you ever had thoughts like that?) Even after knowing that I had heard from God, often I would allow uncertainty to slowly creep back in again.
​
​It wasn’t that I lacked faith in God; I lacked faith in my own ability to unequivocally hear God, which contributed to an underlying sense of unrest in my soul. I believed that the Holy Spirit lives in me, yet at times I struggled to fully trust that I was hearing God’s voice clearly.

 
Then a number of years ago God began to do a healing work in me, teaching me that I could trust and rely on his loving, indwelling presence and voice. Through a deeper understanding of God's unconditional love for me and the contemplative practices of stillness and silence, I discovered a new way of relating with God, experiencing his presence, and resting in him—which translated to confidence in hearing his voice. 
 
So, on that day when “Be still and know” struck me and God whispered that the knowing was whatever I might need to know in that moment, I realized that God was assuring me once again of my ability to hear his voice. He was reminding me that, most often, it is when we slow down, silence the noise, and listen that we can hear what he wants us to know—what we need to hear. If we will get still and quiet, we can trust that the God who loves us and dwells within us will speak; and we can learn to trust that voice. The Quakers have long observed this practice, sitting quietly in a manner often referred to as "waiting expectantly" as they make room for the Holy Spirit to speak.