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The Blog in Spiritual Formation

Spirituality books have comprised a large percentage of my reading of late. Don't get me wrong, I've spent time in fantasy with Temple of the Winds, social commentary with What our Mother's Didn't Tell Us, and even travel with Ireland: an Island Revealed. But I have many more titles like In the Name of Jesus, God's Original Intent for the Church, Awakening to Prayer, and The Ignatian Workout in the stack. Recently Spiritual Formation has held increasing sway in my literary pursuits. There's something feels so right about spending the best of myself pursuing God.

My spirtuality librarian, Reed Sheard, (recommends books, talks with me about them, but is not not quite a mentor) gave me a copy of the lesson he presented to the FM Sunday School class. I read it just as the Ambien kicked in one night this week, which means I had to read it again yesterday. The lesson was an introduction to the Spiritual Disciplines (enter Richard Foster stage right) and then a focus on journaling. Which brings me (finally!!) to my point. Can a blog be a journal?

There are certainly ways a blog is a completely valid journal. It allows the blogger to confront life issues and wrestle with spiritual realities. It opens the blogger to the community of believers who can assist in the confronting and wrestling. It's a very "stream of consciousness" expression, allowing the blogger to participate in his or her immediate feelings in a cathartic way.

But there are ways a blog is not a valid journal. I still keep a separate journal. When I was pleading with God for guidance on how to deal with a frustrating situation at work, I would not even consider posting that personal dialog on a blog. (See? I talk around it even when not hitting it head on!) On some issues I will in dive head first (see the Sabbath Attempt #4). Some issues I will not touch online with a 10-foot pole. Maybe that's just me, maybe it's my fear of rejection, my fear of failure, or my introverted side coming out. But maybe it's my respect for myself, respect for the intimate nature of my relationship with God, and respect for all of you out there who don't want to know details that gory.

So I guess the answer is both yes and no. (Let's give a hand for the Kevin Fayborg "Why can't it be both?" theory!) The public nature of the blog as a journal is both the blog's strength and weakness. Will I journal on my blog? You bet. Will I journal on paper where only God and I know the contents? I think I'll do that too. The blog's place in Spiritual Formation lies in the context of community of believers. Nouwen and Ignatias didn't have blogs, but I think they would have approved the spiritual thinking and community they foster. And I believe the Lord God looks on us disciples with love and pride whether we seek the Divine on paper, online, in the classroom, or over coffee. Long live the blog!

So, community...what do you think?

MySAU and other parts of life

So I know I tend to be a bit of a workaholic. I can't help it. Nature vs. nurture? I have them both. I love to get on board with a great goal and work until I accomplish it. I do it all the time. The last couple of weeks it's been the MySAU 2.0 rollout. Nevermind I'm a month behind on other duties, this is the one on which I'll ride. Long days, after-hours in the office, even more after-hours on email (although the night I was working at 1:30 I just couldn't fall asleep and needed something to occupy my brain). Up until the last minute I worked. 4:55 for a 5:00 rollout. But I did my part. Because of extraordinary efforts on behalf of my teammates, 2.0 is live. I left work at 6...and by 8 the sore throat began. By 10, swallowing was...well, you've all been there. Today I've spent the whole day between the couch and the bed. (No, that's NOT my idea of a good time!!) Mostly I've been lying awake thinking. Too tired to move. Not tired enough to sleep. I tried to blame Doug for coming to work sick and passing it along to me. But that just didn't last. If I'd taken it a bit easier, my immune system could have handled it. But my drive kept me going past 5:30, past dinner, and into the quiet hours. I know better than to push myself. I know I have fibromyalgia. I know I can't get away with 5 hours of sleep. But there I was this week. Pushing, pushing, pushing. And what was my reward? A live portal and a dead body.

Valentines

Nathan made me a paper rose for Valentine's Day. I had the most lovely handmade card with original poetry, a meal I'd never had before, and Olive Garden's Chocolate Tie Cheesecake for dessert. (For the coffee snobs of my blog-readers, skip their cappucino. It's brewed Folgers in lukewarm milk.) I can't publish on the internet the other great parts of this Valentine's Day. I must be the most blessed woman in the world.

Sabbath Attempt 4

Twitching, fretting, and nervous from work, I could not enter Sabbath. Could not rest. I planned to pass the evening at Nomad double- and triple-dipping in the delicious written word. I planned to let my spirit simmer in the warmth of close conversation. But as I walked through the door, only my worries and unfinished business held sway. The books played only at the edges of my vision, my cares took center stage. Only by narrowing my focus to that which I could see through my camera's viewfinder did my life's inconsistencies lose their foothold. By seeking to capture this present instant in a tiny frame, I finally let go of the past and the future's distracting complexity.

Morning brought its own challenges. From an overflowing coffee pot to failure in expressing my spiritual fears, my nervous mind replayed its patterns. Without the context of SAU, I invented new items to worry about. To twitch and fret over. I ended in a stalemate trip to Ann Arbor, returning with a car full of food but still empty of peace.

The evening's highs and lows seemed appropriate. With new house ideas in my mind and the skillful sounds of marimba and strings in my ears, I hoped to finally find Sabbath. Yet still elusive, the notes which resonated with my soul brought with them sounds of doubt and discord. Was I born for such a life as I now live? Should I have turned left at LaDue Hall, walking down the path of music? I turned right into Marston, walking into Psychology...then technology...and now organization. I feel most like my God-image self when I'm creative, when in nurturing relationship, when dancing on horseback. Should I have turned left at LaDue?

Kiai!

My T'ai Chi practice has done me some good and some ill in my Karate learning. For instance, I understand how to move my Chi (life force in Chinese) in T'ai Chi. But moving your Ki (life force in Japanese) is nothing like it. I've been trying to apply my T'ai Chi principles in this way. There are times in Karate when you put your whole Ki into a punch or a kick; when you do, you yell "Kiai!" Tonight Sensei Bice was explaining how to use Ki in the punching techniques, and I was able to connect the two disciplines for the first time. Punching and kicking just took on a whole new level. Bring it on.

Winter

The snow falls...flitting in swirls.
Across the bleak landscape.
Blows in backflips.

So goes my spirit...falling in whirls.
In the sunless silence.
Blows in backflips.

Do I land quietly to be covered in the bleak mid-winter?

To sleep or not to sleep?

The minutes tick by...silent...stealthy.

My mind ticks on...raucous...rude.

Breath rises and falls. Thoughts buck and toss. Frustration seethes.

Sleep! Rest! Breath oozes, catches like sticky honey in the cold. Sleep! Forget! Can you not even do this simple task? Do you not know the suffering caused by this madness? Did you not miss work even today for this? Sleep!

The minutes tick by...silent.

My mind ticks on...raucous.

Breath sticks. Should I just leave this wretched bed? Abandon effort and submit to the activity of my mind? No. I will not encourage my mind's romp through conversations long past, problems not my own, and failures I'll never see. Submit, you restless soul! Does God not love you?

The minutes tick by...

My mind ticks on...