December 8, 2018

Advent Silent Retreat at University of Victoria Multi-faith Center

(this is what I heard)
Lectio Divina  Reading: Mary’s visit from the Angel
Asked to do what never done before, in favour with God
But___, How can that be?  I’m ____
Nothing is impossible with God
Here I am Lord - Let it be done to me according to your design

(this is what I wrote in the quiet time)
Here, I am being called to something else, something I’ve never done before.  
I said that when I knew I wouldn’t be staying in my job at the University, throughout November, December, January, February, and March.  Then, I got bogged down in the uncertainties when Spring came and I knew we might be moving to Victoria. How crazy is that— to have that awareness when you didn’t know where we would be, but then to lose that sense when things became clearer for Mitch’s new job possibility.  

We’d taken a trip to St. Louis and I was disoriented, I did’t know what to do with myself.  The semester had just ended.  I went through both the pain and great hope of graduation season and was thankful for Tom Long’s Baccalaureate speech.  I decided to do what I knew was right, even at the last minute, to have the insight and courage to go to graduation when I said I would not go.  I was in that quiet place but my heart was not quiet.

Mitch and I revisited Victoria in anticipation of our move that led to the agony of planning our physical move— the brace with which I entered and stayed until it was finished.  Giving things away and I’m still living with the uncertainty of those decisions, still second guessing and not letting go.  I’m still somewhat unwilling or unable to claim this place as our own, my own, my dwelling place for this time.  The trips to family have actually made the separation of things and place even more acute—the unsettledness.  Even with new sure friendships and all those here who have evidenced their care.  I don’t know if I’ve given in, let my guard down so to speak, keeping myself apart, unconnected and unsure.

And now I come to this day, to the few things I have done.  I come to this day of connection with other contemplatives.  How quickly I was welcomed by giving me responsibilities to set up the space, to offer food, and even to welcome others when I was the new one.  To know that I do have gifts to offer.  I thought I would go to the spiritual eldering thing but that hasn’t actually materialized, the times and distance did not work out.  So is this contemplative space where I might find a place to be?  The chimes are calling us back to the group— I’ll keep listening.

my post in January 2019 expanding this notebook entry: https://lindacoggin.com/2019/01/01/advent-listening-for-a-new-year/

I have to confess that when I had the idea to blog excerpts from my old notebook I kept 5 years ago, it seemed like a good one. Then, today, the idea didn’t seem as engaging when my doubts surfaced. I’m going to stick with it, though, because I have learned that fear robs me of joy even when I’m not exactly sure what I’m afraid of.

My notebooks over the years are a respository of my interaction with what I am reading. From scripture to the latest novel, other peoples’ words teach, encourage, challenge, and surprise me and I record these conversations in my daily writing. It is difficult and generative for me to not edit those conversations and let them be. So here is…

Monday, December 3, 2018 (part 2)

The title of today's Advent reading (Celebrating Abundance by Walter Brueggemmann) was "Outrageous God."  The scripture, Isaiah 65:17-19

What I will learn to trust.

The first verse began, "I was ready to be sought out by those who did not ask, to be found by those who did not seek me."

I want that for XXXX-- to find God's spirit amid the recovery of self.  And for me, too.  All of us "walk in a way that is not good, following our own devices."  

These verses seem to be words of judgement and consequences that are difficult to hear.  I want the fairy tale.  Yet, God is always present in our lives whether we ask or know or not.

The first verses of Isaiah 65 are our rebellious lives and the consequences but then there is a turn.  In verse 16-- blessing and faithfulness-- where "former troubles are forgotten and hidden from sight."

My re-writing as I let the poetry of verses 17-19 seep into my bones and heart and vision.

For I am about to create
   new reality for you
The former things you fear will
   not be in the forefront or
   come to mind
Be glad and rejoice forever 
   in what I am creating
   for I am about to create
   your life as a joy
   and its people as a delight
I will rejoice in the new
   reality and delight in my family
No more shall fear be the 
   basis for my relationships
No more will fear be my
   dwelling place.

The poem in Isaiah is outrageous, Walter B. says, and mine is too.  And I'm learning from the stories of Advent I am not the one who decides or orchestrates what is possible.

What I hear in Walter Brueggemmann's words is that in Advent we receive the power of God that lies beyond us-- the gospel's resolution to our spent "self- sufficiency," when we are at the edge of our coping. 

It is good news that counters our cynicism that imagines no new things can enter our world.

Another snippet from my notebook I started closest to 5 years ago. As I said in the last post, this was a year of great change. Mitch and I moved from the southeastern United States to Vancouver Island in British Columbia, Canada. Both of our adult children also experienced significant changes in their lives that year.

The notebooks I’ve kept over the years are sometimes journal like and also are records of all kinds of reading and pondering. Just so you know, I’ve practiced my own version of the Ignatian spiritual practice of The Daily Examine and I write that in my notebook, too, and that’s what I did a bit on this day.

December 3, 2018

So what can I be grateful for in the past 24 hours?  Mitch-- who steadily calls me back from worry, from ignoring my own life, the part of his sermon on Sunday when he said, "We are not in charge or even know what is possible."

Mitch asked a question in his sermon, "How do we prepare ourselves to again birth the impossible into our lives and into our world?" Sometimes I feel like it is my job to provide God, myself, and my family a reality check.  Me thus deciding what is possible or not--actually I don't even go to fairy tales anymore.  

I am grateful for a renewed sense of living my own life in Christ, even in the pain of now.  I am thankful for learning my way around this community and for this home.

When I was in my teens, I made decisions framed with this question: “How will this matter in 5 years?”  As the eldest of three girls in a broken apart family, I became my own guardian angel. I imagine that five years must have seemed both a lifetime and, perhaps, foreseeable. The question levelled rocky terrain.

I’ve been stuck lately between too many ideas that seem too grand for me. So I decided to blog snippets from the notebooks I’ve faithfully kept for almost 20 years. Holding true to my five year frame, I will begin with the notebook that I started closest to 5 years ago and also happened to be a year of great change.  My hope is to return to my intention when I began this blog— to unselfconsciously listen to my life—in public.

Katherine Paterson, whose novels touch a deep place in me, said in an interview about her novel, The Great Gilly Hopkins:

I wrote it as a confession. These stories don’t work unless you find yourself in them…that the deeper you go inside yourself, the deeper the reader is going to go.  I was writing about my own fears and questions… Writers are very private people who run around naked in public.

Even though my blogs are publicly available, I don’t often share that I am a writer because it seems too private and even seems like a selfish thing.  As I share raw footage from my old notebooks, I will listen again to go deeper inside and yes, run around naked in this little bit of public. I hope you will find yourself here, too.

Note: I was reading Walter Brueggeman Advent devotional, Celebrating Abundance.

December 2, 2018 

Today I read that Advent is preparation for the demands of newness that will break the tired patterns of fear in our lives.  That is what I so desperately need to break out of the straight jacket of darkness, as Buechner calls it, that keeps me reactive and meeting challenge with brace rather than surrender and openness that allows for God to be present.  

The prayer is for me.

God, visit me so that I might get carried away 
to do obedient things that I haven’t done before
— kingdom things that I didn’t think I had in me.

Break the fear and inwardness that keeps me bound.  May I be ready to enter the place you have already prepared.