St. John of the Cross

Saint John of the Cross has for many years been one of my favorite mystics, one of the ones I connect with the most. He understands what it is like to be in the dark night. He understands what it feels like to be taken apart in the hands of God. I read his book, Dark Night of the Soul, when I needed it the most; it was a great comfort to hear his voice and to hear him explain just where I was at.

One of the questions I've always wanted to ask John concerns his opinion that the soul feels God is absent in the dark night for their senses are shut off to the Divine presence. It is the one big point of the dark night I diverge on. I have never felt God's presence more intimately than I did when his hand was the only thing I could feel. Even today, when I am searching, exploring, asking questions, I still can feel his hand holding mine; I know God is there and that he loves me even when I have nothing left to give him in return. Did John ever ask that question or was he quite sure that, as he says, "These souls do not get satisfaction or consolation from the things of God."?

That whole time in my life is still so real to me and I am so grateful to have gone through it. As John so aptly says, it is a dry time of purgation and emptying. But I needed that emptying, I needed to be taken apart and put back together and John is right, it is a very passive process. The soul is acted upon, it does nothing. "They will be doing a great deal without activity on their part. All that is required of them here is freedom of soul....They must be content simply with a loving and peaceful attentiveness to God."

In the end, even when it's dark, John says God is still there. Whether we can see him or not, whether we can feel him or not, he is there in the night transforming our souls to see what is truly light.

365-09 #338

God in the Darkness

Note: I wrote this in response to a fellow student's posting from the mystics class.

I believe we tend to sense God more deeply in the darkness because we cannot rely on our five physical senses and must therefore rely on that deeper intuition that God is nearby. We must reach out for him with the hands of our soul, the eyes of our heart. Our souls echo with the eternal divine and when we let the senses of our soul fully explore the world, we can better sense "God's incomprehensibility". When it's dark outside, when the night falls, it is only then we can see the brilliance of the stars. In the light, during the day time, we have no idea how "incomprehensible" the universe really is. God is much the same.

It might also be easier for God to touch us in the darkness because we don't see what is coming and don't have time to run away. As you so aptly said, we are more vulnerable in the darkness but while vulnerability can be the source of great fear, it can also be the source of great love and great joy. When we are vulnerable with another soul or with God, when we risk being hurt in the deepest places we hold inside ourselves, opening up to another and letting them feel our wounds and catch our tears, it is one of the most real things you can experience in this life, a treasure, a pearl reserved for the dark ocean depths of the human, divine spirit.

Darkness can be a wonderful thing in our lives. It is when we realize we cannot find our way on our own, to reach out, and take the hands of God. However, I think darkness is something God gives us, not something we should seek after. He gives it at the right time, lovingly, compassionately. The light is to be enjoyed as well, but when we do find ourselves in darkness, we must reach for the hands outstretched to hold us and let him guide us through.

365-09 #298

Desiring God Within Human Limitations

This week in our mystics class, we are reading Augustine of Hippo, Teresa of Avila, and C.S. Lewis. I love these three mystics and I really enjoyed reading them together. One of the reasons I like this class so much is that the people in my group are asking similar questions. We don't necessarily need the answers, but it is very comforting to ask the questions together. This week's question seems to be, "How do we live and follow our desire for God within human limitations?" Here are my reflections upon these fellow mystics who also raised their hearts and voices to ask this question. I am glad to be in such good company.

As the Quakers say, this week's reading really spoke to my condition. (Translation: This week's reading was exactly what I needed to read right now.) It seemed that each reading built upon one another. Whether Carole planned that (which would be brilliant on her part), or God's design (and we all know God is brilliant), I found it absolutely rich in that mystical song I hear, each author adding a new harmony to the music.

Augustine first brings up my question, the question I did not have words for: "Why are thou cast down, O my soul, and why dost thou disquiet me?" (Page 65) With all the soul has known of God, with all the inward delights, the sight in the darkness, having touched the hand of God, Augustine wonders how on earth the soul without a doubt that God is and that God loves could be sad? And the soul answers an answer that my own soul is crying, "Because I am not yet there!" "Wouldst thou have me not disquiet thee, placed as I am yet in the world, and on pilgrimage from the house of God?" Augustine then assures the soul, and me, that hope in God is the answer. But I am still distraught.

Teresa of Avila then picks up the same question. She says while discussing her butterfly metaphor, which I love, "Oh, to see the restlessness of this little butterfly....and the difficulty is that it doesn't know where to alight and rest. Since it has experienced such wonderful rest, all that it sees on earth displeases it, especially if God gives it this wine often....It now has wings. How can it be happy when it can fly?" (Page 445)

It seems that Teresa says those who have gone through the cocoon experience, which I believe I am correctly translating as the Dark Night, have a whole new set of trials to go through. Having felt the hand of God in the very deepest of places, having experienced that transformation and intimacy while in the cocoon, learning to see with different eyes, they feel "estranged from earthly things", they don't know where to go. Such souls have a very deep peace but are conflicted between the earthly world here and the world they know.

A picture that came to me while I was reading these selections was of a dirt hole in the ground, maybe built into the side of a hill. There is one window with thick tree branches imprisoning the soul within. There is no way out but I stand in this hole and reach out my arms through the branches toward the star-lit night sky. I may be imprisoned but past those branches holding me in, my hands are free under the stars. My hands can pray and touch God even though the rest of me cannot. Mysticism, I think, is lying on the dirt floor asleep while my soul escapes through the branches to dance with God in the night. Sometimes I am content to stay in the hole as I know it will not always be that way. At others, I go over to the bars and shake them with every ounce of strength I've got. I want OUT! I am tired of having to deal with all the limitations of this life, all it's troubles and my own failings, when I've tasted and held the eternal. I can sense there is a whole world beyond my hole, the world I belong to but I'm not there, I am here and while there is definite joy in my hole, I know it was born of the stars.

C.S. Lewis says this hole is merely a stage, that it is not the real world but that it is a real stage, part of the real world. We are the actors and although we have lives beyond the stage, for now we are trapped in our roles and cannot go beyond them. It is in prayer this real person, the one beyond the stage, speaks to God, the director, producer, and audience. Lewis says, "The attempt is not to escape from space and time and from my creaturely situation as a subject facing objects. It is more modest: to re-awake the awareness of that situation....Here is the holy ground; the Bush is burning now." The stage then, the hole, is holy. God is on the stage, God is in the hole.

All I've got to say is that if for now I'm stuck on the holy stage, it better be a good play.

365-09 #287

Looking Back: A New View

A friend of mine and I were driving back tonight from a play in McMinville we had attended with others from the Pentacle Theatre. On our way home, he asked about my story and what has made me who I am today. I shared with him some of the process of transformation and healing that has taken place these last several years, how many things about me have changed and are now very different from what they once were. I am much more gregarious, outgoing, outspoken, and when I laugh, I really laugh and when I smile, my smile lights up my eyes. Though it was true for me in the beginning, it wasn't always the case and I feel whole to be able to laugh once again with my whole heart. It was one of those conversations when I'm asked to stand on a cliff, turn around, and look back at where I've been and the paths I've walked. It's been a great journey and one I wouldn't trade for anything in the world.

At the end of our conversation, I thought of the person who walked the hardest roads with me. I don't have words to adequately describe what those times and what those roads meant to me, but I hope she sees who I am today because of them and I hope she's proud.

365-09 #223

Thank you Saint John of the Cross

Phew! I just finished my monthly editing for Western Friend. It's my favorite issue so far! Great articles.

I have been thinking a lot lately about the movements of my life these last five years. Between the reunion, dance show, reading, and small group tonight, I have new language to think about, to ponder on. Our life with God is so mysterious in many ways and you see whole new aspects to it as life gives you a different point of view. Whatever this current process is, whatever it brings me or takes away, I welcome it. I know even the darkness doesn't have to be dark and that the light is not always revealing. Dark can be light and light can be dark. And when the dark does come, I welcome it like a deep pool of prayer, somewhere I can soak and be touched by his hand. Thank you Saint John of the Cross for explaining what my heart cannot.

365-09 #138

Real Power

The reunion at George Fox was fantastic! I didn't really know what to expect but was thrilled with the break out sessions they had. After the meeting all together downstairs, you had the choice of professors you could go hear speak about various topics, take a break, and go to another. Many of my friends were there and we all chose different professors to start with. After the first session when we ran into each other in the hall, we all grinned and exclaimed, "This is SOOO cool!!!" We loved getting to hear our favorite professors speak again about topics of great interest and relished in the feeling of being there together again like we were years ago.

For the first session, I went to hear MaryKate Morse speak on her new book, "Making Room for Leadership", the book I'm waiting to read until I fly to Milwaukee. For the second, I went to hear Dr. Laura Simmons talk about her experiences of reconciliation when she went to visit Ireland, South Africa, and Rwanda. We all were choked up by the time she finished. Going to those two presentations was an interesting juxtaposition. MaryKate spoke about leadership, power, and servanthood, including a lot on how we physically carry ourselves, expressing or not expressing our power. Then Dr. Laura told us stories deeply heart breaking and others of forgiveness that made us cry. It made me think, there is a lot of power in forgiveness, a lot of opportunity to be a leader and a servant. It seems to be all three rolled up into one. Power like that moved us so deeply we could only silently cry. Power is how you carry yourself and how you physically weild that power, power is also in what we do, it is in forgiveness and in love. In fact, love and forgiveness is the most powerful force of all.

I had only been there mingling for a few minutes when Dr. Laura approached a group of us and gave us all fliers for a class she's teaching as an intensive in the fall, "Contemplation and Reconciliation" which any alumni who has taken her reconciliation class can audit for $50. She certainly knows how to take advantage of getting the word out! I think several of us will be joining her for that. I know, if I audit all I want to this fall, that will be 5 credits. But if I do, I will be getting all the book lists well beforehand so I have time to read a bit ahead of time. Besides, I really need the intellectual and spiritual challenge. I know I've said this before, but that part of me just feels like a shriveled up plant that I haven't bothered to water. I have started a book, "Dark Night of the Soul" a psychologist's look at the relationship between darkness and spirituality. (I finished the personal finance book this afternoon.) It's really good so far. The author is right, John of the Cross not only states the feelings I'm feeling, but he explains them. I love that. His book made a world of difference to me when I was going through my dark night. I can hardly wait to go back to the library and exchange these books for some more!

(Happy Half-Birthday to me!)

365-09 #136

Making the Choice on Pain: Part 2

Today at Richmond, I was working on the inventory while Adria was showing her classes a video about the book fair. One of the lines in the video is, "Sometimes you have to step into the darkness to see the light." I really liked that quote as it is exactly one of the things Adria taught me in our time of spiritual direction. By the time I met Adria, I was already in the dark night and clinging to a stump in the storm. Eventually, she convinced me to let go of the stump and let the storm tossed sea throw me where it will. I was terrified to do it, the pain looked so overwhelming to me that I couldn't bear to turn my head into it much less go through it. But then during one of our sessions, I saw the pain in me on her face and it brought me to tears without a single word. I had been so stubborn up to the point, still guarding my defenses but that day, really feeling and seeing the pain for the first time, I just had to let go. Weeks later, I remember being utterly lost in the blackness when she passionately assured me, "There is a thread of hope in the darkness!" I choked back, "I can't see it!" and she informed me, "I will hold it for you. Don't let go!"

Four years later I can tell you that turning around and facing into the pain was one of the very hardest things I have ever done. It feels utterly overwhelming, like it will never end. When Adria and I were talking about entering what I called, "the black water", I claimed it would never end, that once I let the black water go over my head, I would never return. It felt like death to me. But she made sure I heard there was life on the other side and though nearly all my feelings said it was all darkness, I trusted her. I am glad I did. I am glad I let go of the shore of safety and let the water go over my head. And I was right, it was very much like dying. I felt like God brought me one inch away from emotional death and then brought me back to life. But listen friends, listen. It was worth it!!! The life I have now, what I feel and think, my belief in the importance of joy and hope, is because I walked in the pain and like a purifying fire, it cleansed me. I laugh again with my whole heart, I love because I let pain make the room. And I have joy because sorrow left carved spaces where the black water used to be.

When I left the library yesterday, Adria thanked me for the work I did. But in truth, she already had. Helping was more my thank you to her.

365-09 #127

Wait For Me

Spending three days at the Richmond Elementary library was a gift from God to me. I have been so busy lately over my head in projects that I have taken no time whatsoever to sit with God. Of course there is the time at church but meeting is rarely when I go deep. And not that I went deep at Richmond either, but it was a time to slow down, take a deep breath, and regain some perspective. The friend I was helping is someone who has been to those deep places with me repeatedly, someone who's voice was steady when mine was screaming, who helped me find the strength in myself when I couldn't see anything to hold on to. It was a fun and calming time to help her and to hear how she's doing. I didn't realize it at the time but with the editorial board meeting starting this week, I needed that calm sky, that time to just lay back on the hill and gaze up at the stars. I needed to know they are there.

At the same time, I have been driving the rental car until mine gets fixed and it has a CD player. Having recently come across some particular CD's of mine, I put them in my bag to listen to in the car. Two of the CD's are talks by William P. Young, author of "The Shack". If you haven't read it, I can't recommend this book enough. It's one of my favorites. Being a Portland author, I've heard him speak and I learned a lot. These talks, though I did not hear them in person have deeply moved me. On one CD is the question and answer time, on the other is him telling his story, the story of metaphorically going through his own shack. Paul, as he is more commonly known, knows what it is like to be on your knees utterly naked before God and utterly dependent no matter what his reaction is because you know you have got no place else to go. He knows what it's like to have nothing left inside, to struggle though that, and then to find life on the other side.

Hearing him talk about his experiences dropped me right back into my own as if I had just been pushed over a cliff into the deep waters of the sea. But this time, though the ocean closes in over my head, it's a welcome sensation, a familiar place that to me, has become so much truer than anything else I know. It's like hearing music, the melody of my heartbeat, the drum beat marking my steps, the life-force within me I had let go of along the way. And now I want to shout, "I'm coming! I'm coming home! Wait for me. I'll be there. Keep the light on for me, I'm on my way Papa!" It's like placing my hand on the door and having Papa burst through shouting my name.

365-09 #103

Self-Esteem Through Transformation: My Story

A few days ago I was talking to a Friend (which means Quaker when the "F" is capitalized) on the telephone and she asked me a question I have been thinking about in the back of my mind ever since. (I did talk about it with her too.) It brought to a point some things I have been thinking about lately and I wanted to share them with you. This is a bit of my story.

To paraphrase, she first told me how she experiences ups and downs in her life and in her opinion of herself. The question she put to me was how have I developed a solid self-esteem? The question surprised me as not only had I never considered the answer, but in years past, I would have been one of the last people to ask that of. Starting around my late elementary school years, my self-esteem was in the subbasement of the skyscraper of life. I thought I was a bad child, that I needed the good opinion of others to be worth anything to the world, and I had no boundaries. I tried to fit in early on, it never worked, so I gave up trying. (My mother never really understood that, she never gave up trying to help me fit- God bless her.) I was teased what seems to be A LOT. It's probably what most kids go through but I am not exaggerating when I tell you I had kids in younger elementary grades giving me a hard time on my walk home from school. At times throughout my life, I have wanted to die, repeatedly every few years. I was never actually courageous enough to do it myself, I turned over the responsibility to God and prayed with passionate desperation, "God, please kill me now." And I meant it. I didn't see how life could ever be happy on a regular basis or that I deserved a joy-filled life. Oh, I had my moments. I went to prom, I found some good mentors, sang in several excellent choirs, and had birthday parties like any other kid. But I was sad and I held in a lot of pain.

Changing that around, or growing from it, was never an overnight cure. It started slowly as I can now see. In high school, I had a "best friend" who was a huge blessing in my life. "Sarah eats chicken lips," and "Sharon eats lizard legs," peppered our school notes. In college, I found a good group of young adult Christians and we ate, played, and studied together. I was a part of a group and I loved it. But deep inside, even past my own acknowledgement at times, there was a darkness that ate away at my self-esteem. Whatever good opinion I did have of myself was only a shell covering a self-loathing I couldn't get rid of. I could now see the pain but had yet to go through it.

In my life, the tide truly turned and took full force when I started at George Fox Seminary. I was so excited, a dream had come true and I could hardly wait to begin. However, there are some things the professors and admissions counselor don't tell you when you show up for your first day. For one, they don't tell you that they are going to make you take all the pain you can handle out of your closet and you are going to have to deal with it. They don't tell you that they are not only going to encourage you in your gifts, but they are going to go into the trenches alongside you and guide you in your struggles. They don't tell you that people about to graduate call their time there "spiritual boot camp", that you will never see God, the church, or people, the same way ever again and that they are about to break every box you've got. No, they don't talk about that, yet... But they will and at least for me, they did. And you know what? My time there was one of the richest times in my life because I had to deal with the hard issues. It helped me bond with friends in deeper ways than I had done before, and forced me to see God in a much larger context than I had before dared to believe.

But what does all this have to do with self-esteem and self-confidence? Everything. It's awfully hard to love when you hate at the same time. It's awfully hard to see yourself as worthwhile when you beat yourself up time and time again. I could have had thousands of people telling me I was wonderful but I wouldn't have really believed any of them until I dealt with what was inside. But having those voices of encouragement is important. Having that encouragement from those who I feel love me gave me the courage to stop running from the monsters, to turn around and face the darkness. Having someone in the dark place with me passionately urging me to let go and let the black water of pain pull me under was God's gift to me. By that point, I had enough healthy support around me to break. And oh, I broke. It was the most painful time I have ever experienced and also the time I have felt closest to God. Kahlil Gibran, one of my favorite poets writes of what I feel God did with me:

Thereupon I uprooted the old and strong

tree of my soul.

I severed it from its past and dismantled

it of the memories of a thousand

springs and a thousand autumns.

And I planted the tree of my soul in an-

other place.

I set it in a field far from the roads of time,

and I passed the night in wakefulness

beside it, giving it to drink of my

tears and my blood, and saying,

"There is savour in blood,

and a sweet-ness in tears."

God stayed with me. He held my hand in silence for months as I groped for the thread of hope I was told was in the black water; if I had enough energy to grope at all. He stayed through my tears, my screams, the times when I couldn't pray or speak. I always felt his hand holding mine like a loved one by the side of an unconscious person this side of death. But the strange thing is, the pain didn't kill me. What it did, was take my life down to its barest foundation, to the cement above the dirt, and then I had to answer the question, "Okay, what do you want to build?" I wanted joy and hope. I wanted self-confidence and fun. I really wanted love. So that's what we did. He didn't do it in the way I expected, he didn't do it quickly either. It took time. But board by board and with a lot of windows to let in the light, we rebuilt. This time, we had new plans and they were beautiful. We did take from the old materials and this is important. Everything I was before was not junk. I was a treasure but there were some things deep inside that needed to be corrected and healed and sometimes, things like that can only be fixed by taking everything around it apart. I couldn't throw myself away as much as I wanted to at times. I had to learn that God takes the poop in our lives and makes it into fertilizer. He takes the things we want to chuck and turns them into diamonds around our necks. That's the way it was for me.

As I healed, I started noticing things, little things. It may have been something I said or did, a way I reacted, or a thought I had, but I would stop quite startled and think, "That's different, that's new." Soon, people around me started commenting. One friend told me, "When I first met you, there was a shadow in your eyes. It's not there anymore." But now, as much as hearing these things mean to me, I no longer need to hear them. I now know I am enough and I am proud of who I have become. What is more, I know God loves me and that I am free to explore, there is no set path I have to stay on or be damned, I can roam the countryside and he will be there. I no longer want to listen to the limits of others. Whether they think well or little of me, I know now where I stand and I don't care where they want me to stand. I have God's approval and I have nothing else to loose. I have little fear left, I love trying new things and I don't care if you think I look silly. It's fun and I'm enjoying it.

This walk is not finished though, I still have my struggles, and pain still comes up, but it is no longer the center of my world, the thing I am trying to squelch down. It's on the side, love is now the center. My relationship with God is my core, my love for others and their love for me outflows from the first. And now that I let myself be myself, I am finding I really like that person. She is someone I am enjoying exploring and discovering new things about. I also have kept that community of guidance so when I need to hear the truth, I know these trusted fellow travelers will tell it to me whether I like hearing it or not. They are people to whom I can bring those raw questions I carry deep inside, the one's I have to find words for even as I'm voicing them and they will hold those questions with love and respect, taking their time with me to listen and talk.

I also have boundaries now. I don't take things said about me at face value, I hold them, weigh them, and decide if it just or not. Sometimes, it really helps to see the best of myself through another's eyes and at others, it strangely helps to have my feelings hurt a bit because it is an opportunity to grow a thicker skin and to count more on God and myself. I don't let things define who I am, good or bad. And you know what? It feels really good and I'm getting better at it every day. It's still a struggle, but life is full or growth and struggle, it's a good thing.

Everyone's story is different. Everyone comes at their own answer a different way. Because we are each unique, we can expect God to speak to and heal us in unique ways as well. What I want to get across is don't be afraid of letting the pain take you. It will seem like eternity but it is only for a time. We spend so much of our lives patching up the pain, covering it over, or trying to ignore it, but then pain and self-loathing only grows. We can read all the self-help books we want, but unless they help us walk through the darkness, their use is going to be limited. You have to swim in the black water, you have to turn around and experience your pain. You have to trust God has a hold of you even when you can't feel or see him. It's never as bad as it seems in the end. Fear of something is worse than the thing itself. In the end, my time truly experiencing my pain was an amazing gift. I wouldn't go back to change a thing about it. It gave me time to deal with all the crap I'd held inside and now that I can recognize it for what it is and give myself a lot more grace and understanding about it, I have a higher opinion of myself and a greater respect for who I am and am still growing to be. And let me tell you as someone once told me in response to a desperate question, "Yes, there is life, there is a shore on the other side."

Listen to God. He will help you in your process. His timing is perfect. It may not be the time for you to go through this right now, or the time may be right. Only you and God can know that. For me, it unfolded without me knowing it. I was in it before I knew it had begun. God knew I was ready. I had grown in strength and could endure what I had to face. And when you come to that place, you will be ready too. Find people you can be gut wrenchingly honest with who will support you in your journey.

Ask God to bring these kinds of people into your life and develop trust with them. I will be eternally grateful for the people he brought into mine. To paraphrase a song, they are like the handprints on my heart, they each left a deep mark and have been the touch of God. Good guides will not just help you find the way, but they will help you find and acknowledge the wisdom within yourself, your own strength and power. They will help you know that all you need is within you.

So many of us struggle with self-esteem issues and we try to find ways to fix it. However, I have learned that you can't "fix" self-esteem. It's not an isolated problem. Self-esteem is a sympton of a greater pain below and only by facing that pain can you see what you are truly worth. You can't run away from what is inside of you and learn to love what is inside of you at the same time. You can only love what you are willing to see. And I know it's hard. It will be one of the hardest things you will ever do. I promise you that. But it will also be one of the most beautiful, one of the most transforming experiences of your life.

Ask God to speak to you about this. Be open to the process. Be open to how he answers you and trust yourself to hear him. It takes great courage to turn around and walk through the pain but you can do it and he will help you. He carried me, I know he'll carry you.