A Fig Leaf for You & a Fig Leaf for Me

Mustang

Peter Adermark via Compfight

A shinny new sports car!

Fast. Convertible. Hot stuff. As it growled away I thought,

“What a Fig Leaf!”

In about 30 seconds you can see (or hear) the things people do to cover up… to compensate and distract themselves and others from their insecurities. It’s all a Fig Leaf dance done to hide shame.

To see it in ourselves can take a bit more time. Funny how that is!

We are always, it seems, pushing back somehow on the sense that we aren’t enough. (Even by drawing a comparison, which is what I did when I spotted a sport car fig leaf, reveals my cover up attempt, “I’m not as bad as that.” I said in my heart.)

Consciously or unconsciously we send signals to whomever might listen, even if the listener is us:

• I’m smart enough

• I’m talented enough

• I’m wealthy enough

• I’m pious enough

• I’m capable enough

• I’m attractive enough

• I’m good enough

• I’m strong enough

• I’m loved enough

• I’m dedicated enough

• I’m worthy enough

I. am. okay.

Each way a Fig Leaf. Each way a stab at trying to reconnect and find home. We all long for connection and acceptance.

Social creatures as we are, we still want to look like we have it all under control and can go it alone. The sinking feeling that perhaps we cannot sends a jolt of pain that has us picking fig leaves and making coverings for ourselves.

The truth is being vulnerable feels like being naked. We hate it. We feel exposed. We’d rather hide.

If something or someone reveals our mistake or shortcoming, we take it personally–as a reflection of some core flaw. Fig leaves are everywhere.

I don’t have a sport car to show off, so my fig leaf might not be so obvious to others. But it’s there! Oh, and I have much more than one fig leaf too. I too feel like I’m not enough, and plenty of ways and failures come up each day to point it out for me.

The only thing that helps to give me traction and drop a few leaves is admitting it and risking and then relying on my closest relationships to reorient me–including my relationship with God. Those who really love me reinforce that I already am worthy of love and acceptance. God reaches out in Scriptures, through others, and in the Living Word (Jesus the Christ) to drill home the fact that he covers all shame with empathy and love.

Guilt = I did something wrong (admit it, fix it, move on)

Shame = I am something wrong (we stay stuck, we go numb, we disconnect, we over-protect ourselves)

If you want to drop a few pitiful fig leaves, start by taking a risk and reveal why you cover up. You don’t have to do it in public, but apparently you have to do it to be well.

Brené Brown (who you’ve probably realized by now has inspired this post) says that “We are only as sick as our shame.”

I’m reading this, and I recommend it to anyone who has a Fig Leaf or two.

PRAYER FOR THE SHAMEFUL

God, hear my prayer!
I keep scrounging for things to make me feel better.
I remain unfound by your love in times when I deeply need it.
Be my Hope and Deliver
Let your love wash over me and renew me
That I can be born again into a greater Light and Love
And even as a new born baby is vulnerable and so dearly loved
Let me sense that I am your child in the same way
I am strongest and most protected when I realize I am in your arms
Let me sense your acceptance and closeness.
Remind me of who and where you are.

Click for Verse of the day

 

Likes VS. Hugs: Upgrade your Reality

I’m not sure there’s any number of Facebook likes that can replace a hug. –Seth Godin

It’s true that as real life plays– out not in the hard scrabble face-to-face ways, but through pixels and clicks– that we grow not just a bit more jaded but also less human.

Typing away about our problems and working on getting noticed for what we think can fool us into thinking that this is normal or optimal human behavior. It’s not. It’s distancing behavior. It’s the kind that can’t stand under the weight of true in-flesh reality, and makes us less ready to do the real and messy work of grace and friendship. Or, reap their invaluable rewards. This stuff of the inter webs is  not the kind of being that often propagates a compassion that breathes real life into our souls and health into our bones, at least not like the solace that in-person camaraderie can.

If reading your screen is making you often angry or upset it could be making you sick. Maybe physically but surely in your soul. And it should be well with your soul.

Write out some of your frustrations for no one to see.

Distance yourself for a bit from the thing that distances you from other humans or too often makes shallow mockeries of fellowship and communion.

Unplug and be well.

embrace

When Prayer feels like nothing at all

My friend shared this quote with me.

Feeling it was too good a gift not to share…I just had to present it to you, today.

Abbot John Chapman wrote:
‘The time of prayer is passed in the act of wanting God. It is an idiotic state, and feels like the most complete waste of time, until it gradually becomes more vivid. The strangest phenomenon is when we begin to wonder whether we mean anything at all, and if we are addressing anyone, or merely repeating mechanically a formula we do not mean. The word God seems to mean nothing. If we feel this curious and paradoxical condition, we are starting on the right road.”

This quote can sound like one of two things, mainly:

1. Super weird, if not heretical.

2. Just what you need to hear and strangely comforting.

….okay maybe option 3. Confusing. (you’ll have to let me know)

When prayer feels useless, it’s not. But, prayer doesn’t have to look and feel like you’ve been taught: active, powerful, transforming.

Takeaway: You don’t have to feel guilty when you feel nothing at all.

Some feel repelled by the silence or felt absence. It pulls them toward agnosticism or even atheism, but silence and other mysteries can also bring us toward the contemplative stream of spiritual growth.

What did the quote sound like to you?

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Wet Dog Diary: Providing for the Pack

I’ll spare you a corresponding photo, but Luna, our chocolate lab, tried to bring a dead rabbit into the house.

Luna our chocolate lab

Not long ago, just after Luna began adjusting to us and as her new family, I took her outside for her final bathroom break of the day.

She sniffed around as usual and then slowly blended into the inky night. Chocolate labs are pretty tough to spot at night, unless you catch the light reflected off the backs of their eyes. I waited. Then sensing that she might smell something and head off after it, I called to her. Nothing. Again I called and a few more times.

I heard the jingle of her collar in the weeds and then she pranced back with something furry in her mouth.

Not quite the hunter, Luna found an already killed and gutted rabbit and brought the carcass back. She wanted to bring it inside and share it. I screamed. And she seemed stunned.

“Put it down. Put it down. No, girl. Get inside.” I said.

She dropped it–mortified. Clearly she was a mix of mystified and disappointed you could just tell by her face. She sneaked inside and kept checking back to see what could be the matter. For days after we hosed down the back area where she dropped her present she would sniff and make some attempts to roll in the smell.

Gone were her chances to provide for the pack, at least in that way.

I wonder if we’re like that too sometimes. Trying to provide or contribute, thinking we’re doing a great job, and really God knows that our contributions are more like rotten carrion. It’s incomprehensible sometimes to us why somethings we’re doing won’t work, but for reasons that escape us God wants us to put down our treasured booty and come back inside.

I don’t think God wants us to give up our “doggie-like ways” or our “doggie-ness”, after all God made us people entirely on purpose. He knows we tend to get into trouble sometimes. Nevertheless some habits are important and healthy to break. And just like I started attaching Luna to her chain during outdoor pit stops maybe sometimes we have to get reigned in too.

When God says “Psst”

I’m getting Psst.

I feel verily drawn to the whispers and the come-away… into the abiding.

When you feel battle-weary and you put your head down, you can hear thunder in the ground.

The divine rumbles and trembles you…way deep.

into your soul.

Your own beats loosen and go syncopated.

&

And whatever happens, all I know is… that I need to show up.

The wild abandon is not my own.

It’s the shine of the joy and glory.

&

Strangely, I sense the breathlessness is from… outside.

Yes.

God at my gate among the blooms.

&

Pay attention. Learn. Sit soon, at the feet of the One who is Other…

I hear it.

 

So,

Tomorrow I’ll make a trek to a sacred place because it’s time. It’s overdue.

I’ll tell you about it, some, on the other side.

And that’s how you get psst.

 

P.S.

Please stop for about 15 seconds, if you have them, and ask God to help me. I’d be so very grateful.

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