This dynamic tension

Times of transition, of growing, of change and transformation, can be both brutal and beautiful, difficult and wonderful, grieved and celebrated. My life, both in external and internal ways, has been through so much transition over the past 6 years. Much of which I keep hidden from the public - for good reason. Because I don't entrust my story to just anybody and everybody, because I don't trust many people, but I will share parts of it, parts of me, in time. Today, I feel like sharing a piece of it with you, partly because it’s not only about my story, it’s also about our story, our commonality of brutality and beauty, of sorrow and joy, of pain, growth and healing, of longing and satisfaction, of agony and ecstasy - of being hated and loved, unwelcome and accepted (as is), misunderstood and known well. We live in this dynamic tension every day, day by day - some of us are more aware of it than others, some more accepting of it, others more resistant. 

Some of you may know this part of my story, or know pieces of it, many of you may not. A few onlookers, I have come to believe, have their own interpretation of what they have observed, yet don’t know the full picture - no one can fully know, but maybe this will help fill in some gaps. When I first wrote it out, it was a cathartic exercise of sorts to help me process a recent transition in my life, accompanied with hurt. Writing has always been a way for me to not only express myself but to find solace and resolve - at least within myself - even when, or especially when it seems unattainable with persons and situations. 

My original intention was to share this on my blog, for I thought it could be meaningful for someone else, especially those who are or have been involved in church ministry and service. And then I had second thoughts. I sat on it for awhile. Did I really want to open myself up like this? Did I really want to open the door to potential scrutiny, misunderstanding and mockery? No. But recently, as I was driving and allowing myself space to consider some hurtful things and the reasoning for writing this, I remembered the reasoning for starting this blog in the first place - to prudently share and tell parts of my life that I tend to keep tucked between the covers of my journal - unseen. As I move into a new phase of life, I don’t want this part from the past to be unresolved or forgotten.

With that being said, here is what I wrote… 

For the past 5+ years I have been serving at our church, Mosaic, as what the church world would call a lay leader - meaning you're volunteering or serving by offering your time, gifts, skills, and leadership but not getting paid and not officially on "staff". The first 3 of the those 5 years I spent going into the church building - understudying and serving in various capacities, anywhere from a few hours a week to a few days a week while my kids were in school. It worked out well. I felt welcome and safe. It was a homey place to serve. And I enjoyed being there, flexibly - serving and learning under no compulsion nor obligation. My motives were pure. My intentions were noble. It felt good to serve and give of my time in this way, as is common among those who are altruistic. Not everyone with this sincere desire can give of their time in this way, to this extent and capacity - to serve and be served, to learn, grow, and lead in a non-vocational type environment. I understand that.

My time of serving at Mosaic began with dormant desires from my youth years springing to life and unfolding in unforeseen ways... 

In my youth, I was highly involved as a leader in my church and school. My dream was to help people - someway, somehow. During that time, I went on 3 cross-cultural missions trips and then pursued a nursing degree as a means to help people and utilize that medical skill for short-term missions, some day. Well, long story short - that (missions thing) never happened. I do have a nursing degree but never went on another missions trip. I got married, graduated and starting working, and had our two kiddos. I stopped working as a nurse after we had our second child. I loved being home with them even though it was harder than expected. It took adjustments and sacrifices, yet it was worth it. 

When I was 30 and our youngest was 3, my life went through drastic change and transition - of which, I won't go into detail the story behind it, only what came of it. We hadn't been going to Mosaic church very often ever since our youngest was born - we were exhausted and unsure of some things, which caused us to stray away. At this point in our lives however, we realized how much we missed it and wanted to get reconnected with people and committed once again. I wanted our kids to be a part of something. I wanted to be a part of something. Specifically, I wanted to get involved with women's ministry to help women who were going through hard times - having been through hard times myself and knowing the benefit of having support and comfort. I didn't know what it would look like, but my heart was passionate about it. 

Furthermore, I wanted to go on a missions trip. I hadn't been on one since my senior year of high school and thought my kids were old enough for me to leave them for a week. When I inquired about going, I learned that there was no one leading the Mexico trip for the next summer. So, the opportunity was presented to me - that if I wanted to go, I would have to coordinate the trip and lead the team (with some help). And so, I did. And I did it really well, unbeknownst to me. I continued to do so for the past 5 summers. It has been one of the best experiences and learning opportunities with so many fond memories and friendships!  

Side note: that first Mexico trip was ironic - even though it wasn’t a medical missions trip, 10 of our 30 team members got really sick shortly after we arrived - those nursing and nurturing skills were utilized after all, to care for our own team. Thankfully, there was a clinic nearby for aide! 

Some questions I would often get during that season of my life when my kids were in school and I had not returned to [paid] work were - What do you do with all your time? So, what do you "do"? Are you going back to work now? So, are you on staff at the church (getting paid) for what you do there? Some would praise me, or envy me. Others would question me further. The opinions, perceptions, questions, and concerns of people looking at my life from the outside bothered me from time to time and caused me to question how I was spending my time - should I be doing something else, should I go back to work, should I be getting paid or be on staff, should I be home, should I be leaving my family again for another week-long missions trip - off and on, I wrestled with this. There was no easy answer. 

My days looked different, one to the next. As time went on, the more time I invested at Mosaic and the more effective of a lay leader I became, the worse it got - the questioning, doubting, and wrestling only intensified. I would often feel misunderstood, wrongly perceived or numbered among a vast minority. Yet, another part of me thrived in being flexible and feeling unique among my peers. I have never been one to go with the flow of majority nor fully accept common generalizations or labels anyway, even though I can feel its pressure and pull. Still, I would often feel guilty for not financially contributing to our family while helping others (and being helped myself, as an apprentice of sorts - learning, only without a grade or degree to show for it). I would often feel the pressure to go back to work or ask for compensation to show that what I was doing had value - value according to the world's standards that is - value attached to paychecks, prestige and position.

So, what did I do while at Mosaic? Good question! Anything from tidying up the sanctuary and praying; preparing for events and classes; listening, conversing, and growing as a disciple (learner); receiving counsel and care; writing, studying, and editing teaching notes or curriculum; organizing files - to organizing missions trips; leading missions teams to Mexico; leading, mentoring, and teaching (mostly 1-on-1 or with small groups and 20somethings); and being part of our women's ministry - including being involved with efforts to help women struggling with drug addiction, prostitution and homelessness. 

That last thing only lasted for a short while, about 6 months. The sheer intensity and time investment of this type of missional "street outreach" was a precursor to me getting burnt out - an unwelcome doorway to a 6 month sabbatical - or intentional break/rest. I called this sabbatical my "self-imposed exile", partly because Mosaic no longer felt homey to me. I felt more like a stranger. This "exile" provided space for me, for time away from leading and serving, for time away from the onlookers who just didn’t understand, for a time of solitude - to rest and reflect; to listen and respond; to readjust priorities; to regain a sense of integrated, seasonal balance; to learn healthy boundaries; to recuperate and be restored - leading to transition upon transition and ongoing transformation, an ongoing journey. 

That burnout and subsequent "exile" occurred over 2 and a half years ago. The emotions of it can still feel raw, as if it were yesterday. Ever since that transitional time, I have not returned to leading or serving at Mosaic in the same way, to that extent. In fact, I have progressively stepped away and stepped down. (Other factors [unspoken here] have influenced this gradual step-down as well - messy things that often come with relationships and work or service - even in the church). That "exile" did something to me - in me. Difficult things. Wonderful things. Things grieved. Things celebrated. Although at the time it didn't feel wonderful and celebratory, it felt more destructive and debilitating. How does something so brutal become something so beautiful? It's a strange and miraculous and redemptive thing, that's for sure - when we surrender that brutal thing into the hands of Jesus, our Wounded Healer, who alone can make something beautiful out of it.

What happened? Several have asked... What led me to abruptly withdrawing, and gradually stepping away and stepping down? I won't share all the details surrounding it, some are just too personal and will remain - unseen. But, have you ever been involved in something that you really care about, something you value, something you're passionate about, something intrinsically rewarding, something good and benevolent, and the deeper you got involved, the narrower your vision became to other important things, other good things - like taking care of yourself; like making seasonal adjustments; like having (or learning) healthy boundaries; like taking better care of things around the house or being more present with your family? It tends to happen to "helpers", caregivers and people-pleasers. If you’re not careful, it’s easy for the "caring" to over-burden or to become overly attached... 

Not only does your vision become narrower, but your ears can become deafened to the warning signals, to the warning sirens that attempt to redirect and protect. What does it take to get our attention? Even those who appear "healthy" and "spiritual" or "mature" can become deceived, distracted, and unwise. Well, that was part of it. It’s complex and layered. Another part, I can only explain by going back in time and sharing a piece of my writing from that time, to give you a glimpse of another thing that triggered me. 


Sept 9, 2016

As I sit outside Mosaic on this unsteady rock, watching the street where they usually walk and work, I hear the familiar sirens. Only this time I hear it as if it were coming from within, alarming within my soul. It makes me feel helpless, even hopeless. I have tried, and I have failed. I have cared, and I have enabled. I am worn out, and I am wrecked by what my eyes have seen, by the devastation of lives. I can't do this anymore. It's not working. Nothing works. I am broken. These streets are broken. I have nothing more to give. The sirens, they keep alarming - over days gone by, over today, and even tomorrow... Something is wrong, someone is troubled. That someone, just might be me. That siren on the street resounding within my soul is telling me something. It tells me that I am not a Savior, I am not sufficient on my own. I am limited. I cannot help, heal, change, or fix anybody else. I cannot help myself. And nobody else can help, heal, change, or fix me. At least, nobody on these streets, nobody in that church building, nobody... 

I see it in their eyes, what I know to be present in my own eyes... pain and longing... Longing for an escape, for an end to the suffering of this life. Longing for a better home. Longing for Heaven. Looking into their eyes and seeing their brokenness has become a mirror into my own pain, my own story, my own brokenness - to a depth that I cannot repress, soothe or make better. I cannot seem to cope or function as usual. The way they deal with their pain is different than the way I deal with mine. Our stories, behaviors, coping skills, self-help measures, self-soothing means, defense mechanisms, manipulations, distractions, dependencies, and addictions might look different and might have different consequences, but underneath what is seen and beneath our unique stories, we have something in common. It was that sense of commonality and that look in their eyes reflecting my own pain that keeps haunting me and resurfacing...

I thought I was over "that". I thought I was further along. I thought I knew what I was doing. I thought I knew enough of the other side. I thought I could handle it, for my heart and motives were good. I thought I was helping. I thought wrong. I feel misused, mistreated and manipulated by the ones I tried to help - one too many times. An unwanted and all too familiar feeling. I can't do this anymore. There is more. This mirrored and alarming pain is the very place that longs to be touched by the wounded hands of my Jesus. He alone can rescue and save. He alone can heal and bring about eternal and inner change. He alone can take this brutal thing and make it beautiful. He alone can fix what has been broken, by His wounded hands. 


Many people enter a helping position or profession with good motives, without realizing that they need helped, or healed - or further progress and increased wisdom. You can only lovingly guide someone to the degree that you have been helped, or healed, or grown in wisdom (wisdom beyond a degree). When I try to help with my own wounded hands, I can only do so much. I am limited. I can get in the way. I can be unavailable. I can forget. I can have good, quickly spoken intentions with poor follow through (learning more and more how important it is to be silent or slow to speak and sure to follow through). I disappoint. I enable. I co-depend. I get worn out. I get wrecked. I feel unappreciated. I feel prideful. I can get offended and defensive. I get disappointed, devastated. I lose sight of Jesus... 

However, when I connect my wounded hands with the wounded hands of Jesus, something changes. I cannot help as the Savior does. I cannot heal, change or fix, but I can lead others to the One who can - to see that He too was wounded, and His wounded hands can do wonders. His wounded hands are scarred, yet soft and sacred. His wounded hands can reach the unreachable. His wounded hands will determine how, when, and what to do with those brutal, broken places. No matter what comes of those places, He will make it useful. For He lets nothing be wasted. It’s what He does best - making beauty from ashes. 

So, what do I do now? A few months ago, I handed off the Mexico trip to another leader that has served with me (however, the trip was cancelled due to the border crisis). More recently, I stepped down from the last area I was serving in and leading at Mosaic - mostly behind the scenes. Several culminating factors have influenced my "stepping down", being pregnant is only one of them. I was leaning toward going back to [paid] work in some capacity until we found out that I am pregnant - expecting the unexpected! 

For now, I am preparing for this child and will continue to be a stay at home mom. We are in a busy season with soccer, baseball galore, horse riding lessons, house renovations and spring cleaning. Looking forward to summer, sunshine and pool days, that's for sure! I feel contentment mixed with anticipation of unknowns. I am not the same person I was when I first became a mom. All the experiences I've had over the past 5-6 years have done a good work in my inner being. All the learning, serving, lay leading, maturing, transitioning, surrendering, and healing has done wonders in my life. As brutal as it has felt and feels at times, it’s also beautiful, and worth it. Something to grieve, and something to celebrate. Even so, I am still a work in progress, very much so. The journey continues. 

I may have lost myself (once again) for a little while. But in losing myself, I found myself (once again) - rather, He found me and continues to guide me, day by day, in the midst of this dynamic tension we call life… 

It’s interesting how change and transition seems to come both gradually and abruptly. To me, it’s like a chain of links. It’s easy for me to focus on one shiny link, one silly kink, one broken piece or one abrupt shift without stepping back to see the whole chain of links that led me to this place, that has been shaping me and even preparing me and making me into who I am today. Our individual chains will look different but we all have one. I'd say - it’s a good habit to take a peek at your chain from time to time and ask God to show you where He’s been through it all, and who He is making you to be. 

Through all the burnout, wreckage, heartache, and transition upon transition, why do I still go to Mosaic? Why, when I am no longer serving or leading like I once was. What keeps me there? I have pondered that recently. There are many reasons why people go to church, or choose a church, stay at a church, or leave a church. I have experienced and observed many reasons, too many to share. What it currently comes down to is - the people (not necessarily a particular person, hah, if that were the case, I would be more inclined to leave,  for we must not place our trust or security or sense of belonging or comfort in any one person, because persons can suck, and I can suck at at times - don’t lean too heavily on me!)

It’s presently not any leader or teachings, classes or programs or events, music selection or worship experience, serving opportunities or leadership positions, it’s the people I have come to know and those who have come to know me - and that took a lot of intentionality, investment, and vulnerability - still does - even more so! That’s it. Those other things - they come in seasons and serve a purpose, they transition, they fade and fail. However, the presence of people, of God’s people united by commonalities and communion with Christ by the Spirit - remains. Even though persons have come and gone, new faces cycle in and it's hard to keep up, relationships fluctuate, and persons hurt and frustrate - I don’t want to start all over again. And so, I remain... For now. 

What about you - will you respond to transitional (often unwanted and unforeseen) doorways leading to new learning, growth, pain, and healing; will you slow down enough to really look and listen and respond; will you remain when it’s uncertain, unconventional,  misunderstood or scrutinized; will you invest the time to get to know and be known; will you be courageous and vulnerable; will you see the beauty in the agony, the joy in the sorrow, the gain through the pain of this difficult and wonderful dynamic tension of life; will you take His wounded hand and journey with Him? 

This could mean withdrawing and moving inward, or leaving and stepping down for a season (or longer). For others, it could mean moving outward and onward, or remaining and stepping up, or stepping outside your comfort zone - it could be a mixture, with tension of course. It will transition and change. Life is full of links and kinks. Whatever it is, wherever He is guiding you - will you follow? There is no program or protocol for this kind of relationship with Jesus. It’s a mystical journey full of paradoxes! It's not for the fainthearted, it's an invitation to the courageous brokenhearted - to behold the Beauty of Christ, to be something beautiful and brave, where brutality and beauty co-exist... For now. 


Grace and peace ~ 
SS

 

 

 

Pregnancy/Baby A update: Since I am 35 years old (geriatric, or "advanced maternal age") and considered higher risk, I am monitored more closely. So far, all is well. I have appointments twice a week until she arrives. Praying for favor, peace and health, and a good experience all around. Thank you for your prayers as well. I am feeling good, mostly. Not sleeping well, but I consider that preparation for having a new baby - hopefully one that sleeps better than her older sis! My next blog post will likely be about the story and significance of her name - to be announced and shared after her arrival - expected to be some time in mid-June. We just can't wait to meet her - she's a wonder!