Missing church - or not

             "Do you miss church?"

That's what she asked me - and then must have remembered all the things I had said about being so grateful to be free...

So she rephrased the question:  I mean, like... Do you miss worship?

That's when I knew that she was a church-goer. An insider. ... Because an outsider or casual attender would probably not use the term "worship" - which is the insider label for the music at the beginning of a church service.

Do I miss church?

What a strange question.

No, I don't mean that it is a strange question to ask, but I mean that it feels strange to try to answer it. After being an insider myself for SIX DECADES, I never would have imagined being on the outside. If someone had asked me that question then, whether I would miss church if I didn't attend... Well, of course, I would. I mean, it was my life! My social network, my ministry, my job - for Pete's sake! I would not have been able to imagine life without church.

But now, six years out... Now it's hard to think of something I miss.

Do I miss the music?

Let's see; sometimes I miss playing in the band. Sometimes. But not often. But the music in general? Nope. In fact, and this will sound really harsh to some, but I can barely stand to listen to some Christian music now. This is not the time or place to go into detail, but let's just say it reminds me of some of the very things with which I can no longer agree.

Do I miss the mentoring opportunities?

Not really, because I still have them. More than ever. More opportunities than I can find the time to keep up with. Turns out you don't have to be inside a church to love people and walk together with Jesus.  Imagine that.

Do I miss the social structure?
Fellowship events?

If you mean church potlucks, well, then, nope, I do not.

If you mean relationships, well, not really - because relationships do not depend on social events. Sure, there is the ease of staying connected, but it does not guarantee real relationship. And yes, we have to work harder at relationships when we are not automatically and regularly bumping into each other in that context. But I seem to remember hearing that the best things in life are worth working for.

Do I miss the sermons?

Actually, I have only just begun going through my piles and piles of notebooks that are full of sermon notes that I have not yet put into practice. I realized long ago that our sermon system was not a terribly effective way of fostering spiritual growth.

On that note, there IS something I miss. I miss the times of discussion after a sermon where we plopped down on the front pews and hammered out what it all really meant and how to apply it to our lives that week. You know; that handful of times when a bunch of us hung out for hours and really talked. And we said we should do it more often. Now that I think about it, I guess I've been in more of those discussions in these past six years outside than in the sixty on the inside. So, nope, I don't have to miss that.

...

Oh, I know something else I don't miss. I don't miss being interrogated about why we didn't attend a certain event - especially when we were actively involved in a half-dozen other "services" or church meetings that very same week. Nor do I miss being "scolded" for not measuring up to someone's expectations.

...

So do I miss church?

If you mean dressing up in my Sunday best to attend worship service at the sacred hour of 11 a.m., I have to say I don't miss it.

But if you mean gathering with believers to talk about what Jesus said and how we can live it out... I guess I 'd have to say that I don't miss that either - BECAUSE we can still do that. And we do.

AND we can meet with all brands of other "outsiders" and can have deep discussion about what we do and don't know to be true about God. Where we can reason together about faith and science and grace and all kinds of issues. The type of discussions that would never happen inside the four walls.

Move forward

You can't move forward

and stay in the past at the same time.

It just doesn't work that way.

There are some things you can take with you

 

and there are some things

you have to leave behind

 

because

 

there just isn't room for them

where you are going.

It's time to move on

 

and into the next place.

 

 

It's all good.

Be free.

 

　

- Toni Imsen

blessed to be a blessing

It has been interesting to look back over our recent journey and to marvel at all of the wonderful things that have come about. I have once again been overwhelmed with gratitude and a sense of wonder.

For some reason I find myself thinking back to the old days and conversations with friends about the inequity in the world. We spoke of world hunger and how we are so rich compared to most of the world. We spoke of almost feeling guilty about having so much when others had so little. We found ourselves wondering if it was selfish to spend money on ourselves or if we should find ways to give it all away. Well, maybe we didn't go that far. But we did talk about whether it was extravagant to spend money for a gallon of paint for our living room - in light of starving children in Africa.

I suppose we each came up with our own conclusions and I suppose we have changed those ideas through the years.

I also remember asking myself the question "Why are we so blessed?" Why in the world were we born in a land of plenty while others seldom have enough? I don't know how to make sense of questions like that except maybe to change the nuance of the question. Instead of looking for a "reason" I began to wonder if I could find some "purpose" for being so blessed. Is there something I can do with my blessings? My bounty? Something I could/should do with my plenty?

Well, certainly there is. With great privilege comes great responsibility.

Over the years I gradually developed a philosophy and a mantra, I guess. I often said that I was blessed to be a blessing and even preached sermons around that theme.

I haven't preached any sermons for a long time - well, at least not from a pulpit. But I do still believer that there is value in that little mantra. I still think that part of my grateful response to being blessed can and perhaps should be to share that blessing with others. Obviously blessings come in many forms - whether financial or physical or relational. And there's a really cool thing that happens. As I share my blessings, I somehow find myself being more blessed.

There are obvious ways that we can share our plenty with others who have less as well as inevitable risks. There are also subtle ways to share what we have. Ways to pay it forward. Ways to use our assets to bless other people.

And so I do - or at least I want to.

I'm not so interested in trying to list all the ways that I do that. Maybe it's more of an explanation or a rationale for what I do. For example, I am so terribly grateful for all that I have been learning about living more simply and with less stuff. Therefore, I really want to be of help to others who could benefit similarly. This is one way that I can use my abilities as a teacher and a writer to encourage others who may be interested in following that pathway. It can be a hard road and I'm grateful for the help I've been given along the way so I am now happy to in turn offer my help to others.

This is just one small way I can share what I've been given.

We have all received various blessings along with various difficulties.
I guess my challenge to you would be to notice your blessings and to find ways to share them.

...

You can read other posts in this series here.

What's your excuse?

 

We all have excuses. Good excuses. Bad excuses.

There are really good reasons why we do the things we do... Good reasons why we choose not to do other things. But sometimes the things that seem like good reasons turn out to be just excuses.

We make choices and those choices bring about consequences. Some of those consequences turn into obstacles for our future choices. When we come to a point where we really want to make big changes in our lives, we bump into those obstacles and have new choices to make. It can be a vicious cycle.

 

Obstacles make pretty good excuses to stay where we are. Unless, of course, we get to the point where we don't want them to block us anymore - at which point we can decide to do something about them. Of course, it won't always be easy. And sometimes it may not even be possible to remove the obstacles. But we will probably never find out until we try.

Allison Vesterfelt has experience with letting good reasons become excuses - obstacles that kept her from achieving her goals. Fortunately, she has also learned much about dismantling those excuses. In this article she deals with some of the most common excuses I've heard - AND used:

• I don't have the money.
• I don't have the time.
• It's not possible.

Yes, sometimes those are true. Sometimes they are valid reasons. But sometimes they are not really good reasons. Sometimes they are simply excuses.


 What's your excuse?

Have you taken time to examine it carefully?

Is it a good reason? Or is it simply an excuse?

Is there something you can do about it?


What are you willing to do?


...


I keep asking myself what I am willing to do about my excuses.

40-day decluttering challenge

Yesterday a friend shared the idea of the 40 bags in 40 days de-cluttering challenge.

At first I didn't think it applied to me because most of my stuff that I need to get rid of is stacked up in our storage unit in frozen Michigan. And here we are in the South living in our RV which is already pared down and pretty well de-cluttered - a model of simplicity, my hubby says.

But then I remembered that I had a few things set aside that I had decided to let go of so they needed new homes. And I had those four small bags of plastic shopping bags that I would really like to recycle.

Soooooooo.......... I loaded them up and went searching for a thrift store. (Yes, I had just asked my friend where to find one.) Okay; there we go. I delivered my five little bags to the thrift store. BTW, they seemed very happy to get those shopping bags.

...

Well, then I thought maybe I'll see if I can come up with more things to get rid of. I don't know that I would succeed at doing something every day. But hey, let's see how much I can do. I think I will tally things up and use the total number to measure my success. Of course, any number is better than none.

And what counts?

Not just bags, I decided, but other things as well.
A shelf or a drawer could count - or maybe just a pile. Or maybe even just ONE item - that needs some kind of action. Just one thing that I can get out of the way. Or as the original challenge suggests, maybe it will be just one "spot" that I tackle and conquer.

Maybe it will be my inbox. That crazy thing just keeps filling up and I try to keep it current - with varying degrees of success. So maybe once in awhile I will clean it all out - and count that for my day. For my list.

So here we go...

My forty day de-cluttering challenge.

Want to join me?

Can we get rid of 40 things in 40 days?

Tell me your plan in the comments below and maybe come back here to report when you do it.



...

How shall I then respond?

So what is my response to these amazing happenings? It has been fun to reminisce about our journey so far. To shake my head and wonder about all of the parts. The causes and effects...
How in the world did this happen?
Why are we so blessed?

...

If some of the things that have happened to us are beyond our control, how should we respond?

If they are blessings? Gifts of grace?

If we have done nothing to earn it...

If we can take no credit for it...

Then what shall I do with it?

No reason to be arrogant or conceited if I didn't earn this blessing.

I can't really be proud of it. I can't brag about it.

...

But I can be thankful.

I can receive it as the gift that it is.

And so I do.

I often pause to feel my gratitude.

...


And what about those other things?

The ones that we DID work hard to accomplish...

The conscious decisions that we made...

The steps we took...

The sacrifices we made...

Yes, I guess I can be proud of those.

They didn't come naturally and they didn't come easily.

...

Before we started this process, I may have believed that minimalism is easy for some people. And since it did not seem easy or natural for me, I may have even believed that it was not possible for me.

But then I came across these lines from Vincent Nguyen, a fellow Tribe Writer, in a guest post at "becoming minimalist." He listed many objections that people offer - including this one: "Minimalism is easy for you. It’s your personality to live with less. But that’s not me!"

Vincent says:

Though there may be some truth in that statement, it’s certainly not all personality. Minimalism is a conscious decision to pursue less. Many of us have made it and almost none of us had it completely easy.

I didn’t just wake up one morning and decide, 'I’m going to be minimalist!' For me, it happened through a series of realizations and struggles. A lot of thinking and sacrifices took place.

I didn’t decide to love less because of my personality. I decided to live with less because I saw value in it. There may be some people out there who desire less since birth, but they are a small minority. The rest of us struggled through it. Eventually, we thanked ourselves for doing so.

Vincent was describing us. It had happened gradually - "through a series of realizations and struggles." Yes, a series. A process. His last line really caught my attention...

The rest of us struggled through it.

 

Eventually,

 

WE THANKED OURSELVES

 

for doing so.

I was intrigued by the idea of thanking ourselves. We can thank ourselves? That caught me off guard, but then I thought, "Hey, why not?"

I guess we can. We can thank ourselves for being willing to even consider this process.

We can thank each other for being sensitive and compassionate about the tough choices.

We can thank me for coming to a place where I was willing to let go of the place that has been in my family for three generations. And to let go of the heirloom china cabinet from four generations on the other side of my family.

I can thank Bob for his patience with me in the midst of all of those agonizing decisions - both the big dramatic ones AND the thousands of little bitty ones.

I can definitely thank him for his hard work in hauling our stuff from the big house to the storage shed and then to wherever they all ended up going.

I can also thank him for his good example of keeping things current - which is absolutely vital as we live in smaller spaces now.

We can thank each other for the diligence and persistence to keep at the task for all these years - box by box, shelf by shelf, bin by bin.

...

But you know what? It's not just the two of us.

There are so many others who have helped us in this process - some from a distance and some nearby. I don't suppose we could have done this without the support of others - which came in various forms.

There was the friend who taught me at the beginning of this process that we have far more than "things" by which to remember our loved ones. And other friends who have reinforced that concept and who have reassured me in so many ways.

There was the friend who pointed out that we did have assets that we could make use of. For example; we COULD sell the farm. And yes, even though we were not yet willing to consider it at that moment, the seed was planted.

There are so many friends who by encouragement and example have helped to open our eyes - not only to the possibility but also to the value of a simpler life and freedom from so much stuff.

There are the friends in my support group who have been so quick to encourage me to keep going in the midst of big projects, to pick me up when I felt defeated or exhausted, to remind me of truth when I couldn't see past my frustration, to correct my perspective when necessary, and to simply offer kind compassionate pats on the back.

There are friends who have given me books and other resources that have been helpful in my re-training myself.

And there are friends who have offered a new home for some of my cherished possessions that I just couldn't abandon.

I say thank you to each of those friends.

...

And besides these dear friends, there are also those who don't even know us, but who have helped us on this journey. There are the bloggers and the authors who have contributed to our education. I am currently grateful for Joshua Becker at "becoming minimalist" because his regular posts have reminded me of many of the reasons why we have been making these tough decisions. And he continually offers tools and resources to help with the process. He and others like him have helped us understand the reasons for living a simpler life.

Our purpose for downsizing is not to deprive ourselves. To the contrary, it has been to make room for the things that really matter. We wouldn't have voluntarily chosen to let go of so many GOOD things if not to make space for the BEST.

...

Yes, I am happy to give thanks - to and for all of those who have helped us make this transition.

Thank you. All of you.

...

   Continue with the next post...

        ...or see the entire series here.

Tough choices, deep sacrifices, and hard work

What started out as a blog post with maybe two parts has multiplied into some sort of series, I guess. I've wondered and wandered around and rambled on about how in the world we got here, about how blessed we are, about the fact that choices matter, and about us realizing that we could take action to change our circumstances - that we didn't need to stay stuck where we were.

So what kind of action did we take? What changes did we make?

Those changes seem to fall into three categories: decisions, sacrifices, and hard work. And let me say that some of the decisions were agonizing, some of the sacrifices were painful and much of the work was really hard. The cost was high, but yes, the results were worth it.
You might think I'm being a wimp about something that seems like a piece of cake for you. but hey; I might observe your struggle and wonder why it is so hard for you, why you would struggle with that.

Here's the deal.

• What is tough for me might be fairly easy for someone else. 
• What feels really hard for you might not be difficult for me.
• We each have our own battles. Our own things that are crazy hard.

So what were those decisions, those sacrifices, and that hard work?

Here are a few examples of things that were tough for me:
 

What types of decisions?

• To change our thinking
• To simplify & downsize
• To let go of extras: extra dishes, extra books, extra clothes, extra supplies, big containers, stuff to feed an army

What sacrifices?

• Our home, our gathering place
• The legacy of Hidden Hollows
• Guest rooms
• Space & spaciousness
• Solitude, peace and quiet

What hard work?

• Retraining ourselves
• Sorting & pitching
• An agonizing mental and emotional process
• Discipline, diligence, persistence

...

Obviously, someone else's list might look quite different from mine. It is not intended to be a one-size-fits-all sampling. This simply explains a bit of the process that we've gone through and continue to work on.

As I've mentioned in the earlier posts of this little series, we had no clue what it would take or whether we would be up to the task. But here we are on this end - or maybe we're still smack-dab in the middle of the process. At any rate, we have made some tough decisions, we've given up some things so that we could trade for other things, we've figured out tentative steps to take and we've tackled them one at a time. And yes, we have seen big changes. And yes, we still shake our heads in wonder at it all.


...

   Continue with the next post...

           ... or see the entire series here. 
 

 

So lucky. So jealous.

"You're so lucky"

"I'm so jealous"

...

You've heard it.

You know the story.

Person makes difficult decisions and works hard for long period of time to achieve a goal.

Person's friend responds: You're so lucky! I wish I could do that!

You've been that person. Or maybe you've been the friend.

I've been both.  The person who said it and the person to whom it was said.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

In this space, I've wondered about how in the world we got here from where we were. 

I've marveled about how we are sometimes given things for which we can take no credit.

I've recounted our experience of coming to the place of deciding we wanted to get un-stuck.

Most recently I've been trying to figure out to relate my realization that sometimes we can make our own luck.

I put words on a page and then I rearrange them and set them aside for another day. In the meantime, someone else says some of what I was trying to say. Actually that happens quite often; I get an idea to write about something and I mull it over for days or weeks and try to figure out how to say it - and then someone comes along and says it so well.

I don't mind so much this time because it was my daughter in her latest blog post. In one paragraph she clarifies some of what I've been trying to articulate on this topic:

"We are jealous of others for what they have, what they own, what they do, who they have, and how they excel.  We tell ourselves they are simply lucky and “I just don’t get to have that, own that, do that, be with that person, or be good at that.”  By the way, “lucky” is the term miserable jealous people who do nothing to change their own circumstances use to describe those who seem happy as a result of making positive changes to their own circumstances.  So we don’t bother to try.  We don’t bother to figure out if what they have is even what we want.  We don’t bother to figure out if it something we might be able to have if we work hard enough.  We don’t even bother to consider if they sacrificed something to get it that we simply aren’t willing to sacrifice." 
 

 

I am so, so glad that I did not get stuck forever in that miserable rut of being jealous for the good fortune of others. Of being unhappy with my own situation. Instead we were awakened to the fact that sometimes we can make our own luck. I no longer need to be jealous of other people's choices or their blessings. Instead we could begin to figure out what it was that we really wanted and to decide what we were willing to sacrifice to get there.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

I do NOT wish for this post to become scolding. Instead I hope that it will give someone encouragement to turn your obstacles into opportunities. I suppose we've all been guilty of saying "You're so lucky" or "Must be nice!" or "I'm so jealous" or "I could never do that"...

Actually let me pick on that last one: "I could never do that."

I guess that one highlights my motivation for writing this post. Because you see, that's what I thought - about lots of things. "I could never do that." Maybe I didn't feel capable. Or cool enough. Or rich enough. Or strong enough. Or skinny enough. Or pretty enough. Or lucky enough. Or something. Whatever the reason, the point is I thought I could never do it.

I guess I thought it about lots of things. Maybe I still do about some things. But I'm happy to report that there are some areas where I have changed. I thought I could never let go of my home, but I've surprised myself and most everybody in the world. I thought I could never get rid of all the stuff that filled our huge house, but I have made great progress.

...

Bottom line:

Yes, I may have heard myself say that I could never do that.

But I did.

I've changed.

I have done things I never could have imagined.

And so can you.

...

     Continue with the next post...
           ... or see the entire series here.

That sermon? Not for you.

That's what my pastor told me.

"Sister, that sermon was not for you."

We were sitting in his office discussing his most recent sermon. I probably mentioned being discouraged about not living up to the admonitions included therein. He knew that I had tried my darnedest because I so much wanted to please God. Maybe he felt badly that his sermon unnecessarily added to my burden of guilt and obligation. To my striving. So he said, "Sister Kaye, that sermon was not for you."

Some of us are such sensitive souls. Call it a tender heart. Call it a pleaser personality. Call it compliant. Call it conditioning. Call it what you will, but some of us have the tendency to trip all over ourselves trying to please other people.

And for some of us that translates into a deep longing to please God in everything we do. So every sermon on commitment makes us want to be more committed. Who am I kidding? Pretty much EVERY SERMON we ever hear makes us want to do better at SOMETHING! So we can please God.

DISCLAIMER:

Lest I give the wrong impression let me quickly admit that I didn't always have the most pure of motives nor do I always choose to do the thing that pleased God. I don't always choose to do the right thing. There are plenty of times that I am downright selfish. But there have been those tender moments, those sensitive seasons, in my life. The fact remains that my personality type tends to take on an undue sense of burden when presented with certain kinds of sermons.

By the way, sermons don't always come from a pulpit. You may be bombarded with a sermon at a family gathering or during a commercial. For the purpose of this discussion, we could define a sermon as any time when someone preaches at you about something you should do.  

Not every admonition you hear - whether from a preacher or a relative or a well-meaning friend or a financial consultant or some health expert... Not every single piece of advice is necessarily one that you must internalize or submit to.

But what are we to do? Should I never try to please others? Are there ways that I can protect myself from this sense of obligation and still be kind and compassionate?

At the risk of oversimplifying, let me say that there's nothing wrong with wanting to please God or to please people for that matter. But the danger comes when our compulsion to please others paralyzes us and keeps us from making mature or healthy decisions. So we DO need to learn to protect ourselves. And we do need to find balance.

My favorite counselor who also happens to be one of my favorite bloggers says:

...if you have a tendency to be compassionate already, there is NOTHING wrong with guarding your heart and taking care of yourself. Sometimes you have to say no. There is nothing selfish about that; you are merely being responsible to protect your soul first. If you burn out completely you won't be able to help others anyway.

It seems so obvious to me now - and maybe to my readers - but maybe there is someone still stuck there in that overwhelming place where you still feel pressure to obey whatever admonition you hear. Where you still have to please people. Or God. Or both. Let me remind you that you need not obey everyone who preaches at you about what you should do. Maybe that sermon is not for you.


 Conclusion:

I realize not everybody has this pleaser tendency and therefore is not so susceptible to these struggles. Maybe you're reading and just don't understand how someone could feel so pressured to please others like this. If you happen to NOT be one of us hyper-sensitive ones, well, then...

Honey, this sermon's not for you!

What if...?

I've shaken my head and marveled about how in the world we got here. I've marveled about the fact that sometimes blessings just come our way. That good things happen to us for which we can take no credit. I don't know how that works, but I am grateful. At the same time I realize that the things that happen to us do not always feel like good things - which can be a topic for another time.

But yes, there is another side to the story of how we got from there to here. It is all about choices. There are certainly times when we can alter our circumstances by the choices we make and the changes we implement.

Choices matter. Choices make a difference. Choices are powerful.

'Tis a topic well explored by authors and bloggers as well as preachers and teachers.

Make good choices. Make wise choices.

Break bad habits; build good ones.

I am a creature of habit. My natural tendency is to get stuck in a familiar groove and not be able to see any other options. I can be needlessly blocked by obstacles.

We are not wealthy. We don't have a huge retirement fund. We don't have financial resources piled up and available to us. How could we afford to follow our dreams? To do whatever it is that retired people do? How could we afford to travel to warmer climates? How can we travel at all?

It was easy to assume that we were stuck. That we'd never be able to do those things because we just couldn't afford it. But somewhere along the line we were challenged to get creative. To brainstorm ways that we might be able to actually do some of the things that seemed unattainable. To recognize the assets that we did have and to imagine how we could utilize them.

I remember the day we were talking with friends about one of our seemingly unattainable dreams. I made a simple statement about not being able to afford it. One friend replied, "Unless you sell this place" - meaning our house, our farm, our home. Which was unthinkable to me at the moment.

So that was that. Selling our place was not an option so we tucked that dream aside in the impossible category and settled back into the familiar. The thought of selling popped up again a time or two but was never really considered.

Until one night... Years later. One of us dared to utter the thought, "maybe we should sell this place" - and the other one dared to agree. Maybe we should. Maybe we could. Maybe we would then be able to afford a fifth-wheel camper and to travel.... Maybe. Or maybe we could go overseas again. Or maybe... Maybe we could consider things we had never imagined.

The unthinkable had become thinkable. Could the impossible become possible? Who knew? But simply choosing to talk about it changed the game for us that night. Now we could begin to think creatively. Why? Because that obstacle might not have to continue being an obstacle.

The wise among us know that we can't have it all, but that late night discussion helped us begin to realize that we could maybe trade one thing for another.

...

Was it really possible? Who knew? But something had changed. Something had been awakened. Something had moved from the realm of impossibility to at least maybe.

And so discussion could begin. Did we really want to do this? Did we even want to think about it? What would it mean? How could it work? Was it even possible? We had no idea. All we could do was to decide whether to take the next step in even discussing the idea.

And so it began. One tiny step at a time. Unlocking that door had been a huge step. Deciding to step through it was another.

...

Why had it been previously impossible to consider? I guess because we were comfortable. We were living the American dream. Well, part of it anyway. We had a wonderful house on a lovely piece of land. We had built it and we loved it. It provided safety and security. It was home - the only home our kids had ever known. I never would have imagined that we would ever give it up so I never considered it as an option.

But once we dared to talk about it, then I guess we began to imagine what it would be like - with all its pros and cons. It did NOT happen overnight. It did not happen in a week or a month and it did not happen quickly, but it did begin to happen. We began the process of letting go - first by deciding to let go. Only then could we begin to see the possibilities.

...

That was only the beginning.

The process would be monumental.

But we began.

We began to talk and dream and strategize.

We began to downsize.

We began to make tough choices.

We had no clue about how long it would take or even if we were up to the task, but we began.

We are not experts. We are not financial wizards, neither are we downsizing gurus. We didn't know what we were doing. We didn't know what steps to take. But we began.

We just tried to figure out the next step and work on that. And then another.

We began.

     Continue with the next post...

            ... or see the entire series here.