Ruminating on Ruminating

I learned a new word. 

Perseverate. 
 
To repeat something insistently or redundantly. To get stuck, to ruminate, to loop back over and over. And over.
 
As in, “My 91-year-old mother perseverated.” 
 
My mom passed away a year ago. But I’m still haunted by echoes of her three looping ruminations. And my robotic responses. 
 
“I’m going blind.” 
 
“I’m so sorry you have blurry vision, Mom. But all your eye sub-specialists have told us you have one healthy eye and you’re not going blind. No matter what, we will take care of you.”
 
“I guess I’ll eat that and get fat. I used to watch my weight, but I just don’t care anymore.”
 
“Mom, remember the doctor ordered you to gain weight because you were way too thin and it was bad for your health and brain. You’re still so tiny but I’m glad you’re healthier.”
 
“It is hell getting old. Why doesn’t God just take me now?”
 
“I’m sorry, Mom. I know it’s hard, but we’re glad you’re here with us.”
 
It’s like a broken record in an alternate universe. When you say this, I say this. 
 
Over and over and over again. 

Those perseverations crushed me. There was nothing I could do to help her. 
 
It makes me wonder what I will perseverate about in a few years. 
 
It’s in my DNA. I too deal with doubts, cynicism, negative self-image, and fears for my health, family, and aging. My unfiltered ruminations will be filled with apologies and worries. 
 
“I am so sorry for taking all your time and causing you all this trouble.”
“Are you okay? Have I made you angry?”
“How are my kids? Are they safe?”
 
I had lots of time to observe the different personalities in Mom's retirement village. Everybody has customized ruts. I’m trying to re-groove my brain now so when it inevitably falls into ruts, they will be these: 
 
Gratitude 
To rearrange my DNA of gloom and doom, I keep a daily gratitude journal and snap iPhone photos of small happies. I try to express thanks in concrete ways to people around me. I say “I love you” whenever I can (a tiny bit less enthusiastically than Buddy the Elf). I picture myself in the nursing home with the staff saying, “Watch out, here comes the hugger.”
 
Wonder 
I fear bitterness more than blindness. Even as my eyesight fails, I want to live in wonder. To pay attention, clap at all the small, beautiful details in creation, and embed the truth of God’s steadfast love deep in my soul. as I face the unavoidable suffering, The nursing home staff will roll their eyes and point at me, “There’s that crazy lady clapping at a caterpillar again.” 
 
Compassionate Curiosity
I want to know people’s stories, not to be intrusive, but to understand and connect. I want to keep asking “after them,” and find ways to affirm them. The folks caring for me will be disappointed if I don’t ask, “How can I pray for you?” 
 
JESUS
I want to end up like the joke about the Sunday School answer. It’s always Jesus. I have been around old saints who weep as they whisper the name of Jesus. O Lord, help me to love you more and more. 
 
Ruminating and perseverating about Jesus? That gives me hope as I age. Because each day it means I'm one day closer to home.
 
And I too will be saying, “O Lord, take me now!”
 
Many of you also care for aging parents or perseverating “loopers.” It’s hard. Maybe like me, it surfaces all sorts of fears of what it will be like when you reach that stage. May God be with you. 
 
If it’s inevitable that we will end up in a rut of rumination, what do you want to ruminate on?

Recalibrating Practices: Live a Life of Wonder

My bucket list has shortened as the years go by. Maybe no marathon or New York Times best-seller. But hold me to this goal: I want to keep clapping until the very end. I never, never want to lose the sense of wonder.

We recently returned from a trip to Seabrook Island, SC, one of the three places in the world where dolphins “strand fish.” The mama dolphins teach their calves to herd fish and push them up on shore. I got to see it. I clapped and hugged strangers. (Yes, they backed away. Yes, I apologized.)

If I had to choose only one word from my acronym G.R.O.W.L (Gratitude, Resilience, Obedience, Wonder, Laughter), it would be wonder. Because I shiver when I consider what’s the opposite of wonder: boredom, cynicism, apathy, joylessness, weariness.

Wonder is a choice.

“Your eyes are windows into your body. If you open your eyes wide in wonder and belief, your body fills up with light. If you live squinty-eyed in greed and distrust, your body is a dank cellar. If you pull the blinds on your windows, what a dark life you will have!” Matthew 6:21-23 MSG

Wonder = Worship.

How can you make living a life of wonder a spiritual practice? Think of “wonder” as both a noun and verb.

Wonder as a noun: Live in wonder. Slow down, pay attention and observe the world around you. (At least once a day.) Clapping is optional but find your own way of saying “Wow!” back to God.

Wonder as a verb: Ask yourself (with a stress on curiosity, not doubt), “I wonder what God is doing here?” Breathe in a God bigger, more beautiful and better than you, whose ways are not your ways, whose timing is not your timing. Practice wonder-worship in all your waiting rooms. A wonder which embraces mystery and lives in the questions, not the answers.

In this midst of these dark and despairing days, Wendell Berry shows me how to practice wonder so I can “for a time I rest in the grace of the world.”

The Peace of Wild Things

by Wendell Berry 

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Pray that the gospel will never lose its wonder for you. Sing “And Can it Be?” and other hymns to remember the wonder of it all God has done for you through Jesus Christ. Scripture shouts of the wonder of God and his world.

“We pray that you’ll have the strength to stick it out over the long haul—not the grim strength of gritting your teeth but the glory-strength God gives. It is strength that endures the unendurable and spills over into joy, thanking the Father who makes us strong enough to take part in everything bright and beautiful that he has for us. . . . He was supreme in the beginning and—leading the resurrection parade—he is supreme in the end. From beginning to end he’s there, towering far above everything, everyone. So spacious is he, so roomy, that everything of God finds its proper place in him without crowding. Not only that, but all the broken and dislocated pieces of the universe—people and things, animals and atoms—get properly fixed and fit together in vibrant harmonies, all because of his death, his blood that poured down from the cross.” Col 1:11-12, 18-20 MSG

Apostle Paul never lost the wonder that Christ saved him. It reminds me of this quote from John Newton, the former slaver and writer of the hymn, Amazing Grace. “Although my memory's fading, I remember two things very clearly: I am a great sinner and Christ is a great Savior.” I’ll be the one clapping as I follow Christ leading the Resurrection Parade.

(Photo credit: Bill Carroll)

Recalibrating Practices: How will you G-R-O-W this year?

Every year I choose a word as a theme to recalibrate around. But, as a woman flooded with words, it’s swollen in the past few years into an acronym : G-R-O-W.

Gratitude. Resilience. Obedience. Wonder.

(In 2021, I’m going to make it G-R-O-W-L because we all need some laughter. Every day.)

These words are part of my current “rule of life,” a spiritual practice which serves as as a way to set a sacred pace for your life. (More on developing a “rule of life” in an upcoming newsletter.)

G-R-O-W jelled when three friends from different seasons of my life who didn’t know each other gathered to help usher in my 60th birthday at the beach. One afternoon, we sat for a few hours with our feet in the sand and spoke about our biggest fears and desires as we stare down the second half (or last quarter in my case).

It was then I realized the things I fear are the flip side of what I most want.  

I fear ending up bitter, cynical, and judgmental. I fear II’ll give up on my dreams, deaden my longings, and become rigid and inflexible in my beliefs and habits. I fear I’ll lose my love for Jesus and rationalize or minimize my sin. I fear I’ll become bored, apathetic, tired, and joyless.

What do I most desire as I stare down my failures, confusion, disappointments? I want to be grateful every day, to keep going and trying new things. (Which means I want to keep failing.) I want to love Jesus more and respond to him out of love not as a means to an end. I want to live a life of wide-eyed joy in the mysteries and beauty of life. And I want to laugh uncontrollably—tears streaming and unable to catch my breath—with those around me.

For the next few posts, I will explore G-R-O-W-L. Starting with:

GRATITUDE 

Henri Nouwen writes, “Gratitude is the awareness that life in all its manifestations is a gift for which we want to give thanks. The closer we come to God in prayer, the more we become aware of the abundance of God’s gifts to us. We may even discover the presence of these gifts in the midst of our pains and sorrows. The mystery of the spiritual life is that many of the events, people, and situations that for a long time seemed to inhibit our way to God become ways of being united more deeply with him. What seemed a hindrance proves to be a gift. Thus, gratitude becomes a quality of our hearts that allows us to live joyfully and peacefully even though our struggles continue.”

There are wonderful podcasts, Ted Talks, and apps which can help retrain your brain to gratitude. I love the Five Minute Journal because I can do it in two minutes a day and add a photo. It’s good to have a place to skim back and remember that life isn’t so bad.

Ron Rolheiser, OMI writes, “Gratitude is the ultimate virtue, undergirding everything else, even love. It is synonymous with holiness. Gratitude not only defines sanctity, it also defines maturity. We are mature to the degree that we are grateful. But what brings us there? What makes for a deeper human maturity?” He then lists 10 ways we need to address to embrace gratitude. I’d love to know which most resonates with you.

He writes, “God is a prodigiously-loving, fully-understanding, completely-empathic parent. We are mature and free of false anxiety to the degree that we grasp that and trust that truth.”

 Start with just soaking in some of h the many Scriptures on thankfulness, like Colossians 3:12-17. Before going to bed, write down 1-3 small or big things you’re grateful for that day. Or take a photo a day of one thing you’re grateful for. Or thank someone (with specific reasons why you’re thankful) once a day (at least!)

Please let me know your gratitude habits.

Next up: Resilience!