Resurrecting my Voice

    I’m looking toward Easter and resurrection - bringing new life into what is dead.  Raising someone who is truly and literally dead as Jesus was is full on resurrection.   I love the words of Luke 24:6, (the angels say) "He is not here; for he is risen."  I love those words for so many reasons, one being they remind me of God's incredible goodness and that God still continues to bring life out of death.

Being on the wholehearted journey means we also take seriously the invitation to resurrect in our lives what we fear is dead because the shame gremlins tell us it is so.  

 What keeps us from resurrecting something we know has in the past or believe will give us life?  Our joy might be stolen by thoughts and messages like:

    I’m too old to do that.

    I gave up playing the piano years ago.

    I’ve always been scattered; I have a million unfinished projects around my house.

    Where would I even start?

     You never finish what you start.

    Nobody cares.  

    Looking back, I realize becoming a mom 7.5 years ago, opened my heart and world up in beautiful ways . . . I love being a mom, I'm deeply grateful for our children . . .  but becoming a mom also made my world smaller.  I started to think about the things that fed my soul as BC activities - “Before Children” and being in AC time - "After Children" - the messages cropped up that these things are actually self-indulgent and I can do them when - when the kids are in school, when the laundry is folded, when the toilet is cleaned. . . Which sounds like a reasonable agreement but there’s always one more ‘when.’  

    And how does listening to the conditional 'when' honor the God given talent I have in singing?  Or the sacrificial investment of training my parents made?  Or the vocal scholarships Concordia College and McPhail School of Music awarded me?  Quite simply, it doesn’t.  

    How does listening to ‘when’ continue the legacy of music past from my grandma to my dad to me and hopefully on to my children?  How does silencing my voice model for my children our family values of ‘we do hard things’ and 'the Ciavarri's never give up?'  Quite simply, it doesn’t.

    And how am I making the world a better place or serving my neighbor by listening to that ‘when’?  Quite simply, I’m not.

    I believe more strongly than ever what St. Irenaeus said centuries ago, “A life well lived is the best gift one can give back to God.”  Our wholehearted lives are a process of knowing what to let go of and what to fervently hold on to; what serves us well (and by extension, others) and what steals our joy; what puts fire in our bellies and what drains our energy.  

So, I’m resurrecting my singing voice.  

    The back story: I used to sing and I was pretty good at it; some people actually paid me to do it, I cut a CD.  It brought me great joy and has been integral in shaping my self-identity.  I could sit at the piano and play and sing for truly hours; simply in flow - lost to myself and time and always wanting to sing or play just one more song.  

    And then I became a mom and lost my voice.

    I didn’t practice long breathing tones; I didn’t run scales.  There wasn’t the time.  Over the years, I got to the point where I wasn’t sure what was going to come out when I opened my mouth - was my voice going to crack on the D (where my break sits)?  I still sang in the worship band but my voice was far more fatigued afterwards than it should have been.  And then the gremlin of comparison hunkered down and I compared my current state to what I had been able to do.  

    I didn’t even want to hear my own voice.

    But I do now.  I’m singing again.  I’m learning to trust my voice again.  I’m running scales and extending my range (hello high A.  Remember me?  Can you introduce me to your neighbor, high B?)  And to my great delight I’m not resurrecting what is died but what was dormant.  I’m not starting over from nothing; this gift had been there all along . . . the shame gremlins just had convinced me it wasn’t any more.  

I’m singing again.  And you know what?  I’m liking what I hear :).

Elsa, Anna, Frozen and Daring Greatly

     So anyone else love the movie Frozen? Our family la-la-loves this movie!   We've seen it at least three times, we regal each other with reciting vignettes from the movie and it seems our family goal is to commit the CD to memory!  It has been great learning for our kids (7 and 5) about vulnerability, shame, and connection.  Which got me thinking, Frozen is a GREAT illustration for this Daring Greatly work.  Both are all about being true to ourselves and God's working in our lives, being real, connecting with others, knowing the difference between belonging and fitting in, and being courageous.  

     Here are some links we've made in our family - if you haven't seen the movie, I don't think these are spoilers :) 

Do You Want to Build a Snowman? (I about cry every time I hear this song) is multiple bids for connection.

The power of fear to grow/perpetuate shame and disconnection - the King and Queen's response to Elsa's power.  

"For the First Time in Forever" before the coronation Anna sings, "for the first time in forever, I won't be alone." Anna talks about her life a series of closed doors - she wants connection!  Isolation is very dangerous for our souls.

"For the First Time in Forever" reprise when Elsa and Anna are together in the ice castle- the connection to Brené Brown saying, "our capacity to be open hearted is never greater than our capacity to be brokenhearted" AND then think what happens to Anna at the end of the song.

The Trolls sing in Fixer Upper "People make bad choices when they're mad or scared or stressed." isn't that the truth! We lose our authentic space.  And what's not to love about singing trolls in the first place?  This song screams it's ok to be imperfect, love doesn't demand perfection.

And of course, how Elsa's power grows when there is fear . . . culture of scarcity, shame, perfectionism grow in fear.

     So maybe you know Frozen but not a lot about shame resiliency or wholehearted living practices.  If you know Frozen, you've got a great starting point!

Tell Me Why You Love Me

     The other night while our family of four was crammed in the bathroom getting teeth brushed for bed, our 7 year old daughter looked like something was on her mind.  She started to say, "Mommy, do you lov-" but trailed off.  I knew she wanted to ask, "Do you love me?"  So, I said, "Sweetie, ask for what you need."  (got that from shame resiliency training!)  She said, "Tell me you love me and 5 reasons why."

     Great question!  And I think I'm a queen of 'reasons why.'  When Tim (my husband) and I were dating, I made him a cake that had 24 - one for each year of his life - slips of paper buried in the cake, each with a reason why he was great.  Finding the first reason in his first bite of cake was quite a surprise and the bigger surprise for me was how hard it was to read!  I resurrected this when he turned 30 . . . but, alas, too many slips of paper = very lumpy cake!

     But when Chiara asked me this with a mouthful of toothpaste, I paused and didn't go to my default place of praise, "because you are a good big sister,"  "because you are a ray of sunshine," "because you try hard in school," "because you show good priorities when you pull out the Children's Bible for your bedtime stories" - all things for which I'm proud of her and all things for which I'm thankful.  

     But what about the days she is fed up with being a good big sister?  What about the day when the sun ain't shining?  What about the time she will choose to slack off in math?  Or pulls out Captain Underpants?  And what about the days she is all those things but I miss it because I'm cranky, preoccupied, or oblivious?  

     From her 7 year old perspective, would I then not love her?  Would she then not be worthy of my love?  Would my love be conditional?  And would she feel like she had to hide these imperfections from me in fear of disappointing me?

     So, instead, what bubbled up for me was all about connection and belonging and I said, "I love you because we grow together, and we are family, we belong together forever, because you teach me, and no matter what, you will always be my precious daughter." 

     John 3:16 is a beloved Bible verse found on bumper stickers, needlepointed pillows, and banners in churches; it's like Jesus is the answer from God to us when we say 'tell me why you love me, God?'

     In traversing the landscape from conditional (when, if, for, because) to unconditional (it is, I am) I'm always jumping the border and getting lost on some backroad.  But I'm really thankful to have found Brené Brown's research and writing as a map.  

   And Chiara's question reminded me of a quote from Brown's The Gifts of Imperfection, "No matter what gets done and how much is left undone, I am enough.  It's [wholehearted living] going to bed at night thinking, Yes, I am imperfect and vulnerable and sometimes afraid, but that doesn't change the truth that I am also brave and worthy of love and belonging."  

We are worthy.   Period.  No prepositions added.  

Being in a Tribe

     We all want a tribe, a team, a family, a band of brothers, a sisterhood, a church home.  We may call it many different things but at the heart and core of this is the knowing in our bones that we belong.  That no matter what, these people have our backs and we can show up in our raw mess and also our joyful beauty and know that neither one will jeopardize our place in the circle or at the table.  We can't get voted off the island . . . at least not THIS island.  

      I believe we all want to belong just as strongly as I believe the sun will come up tomorrow morning; I take it as a truth.

     But the jagged truth is that what we often experience in a team or a church home or even our families isn't belonging but fitting in.  We know where the lines are, what is off limits, and how to tow the party line.  These are different from healthy boundaries.  Sometimes just having people to be with seems to be the price to pay for not being alone; because we are built for connection we will sell ourselves out to fit in.  Anyone whose survived jr. high knows you might sell yourself out for a piece of gossip.  I, too, have had seasons in which I've felt so alone I wondered if something was wrong with me; even though 'on the outside' everything looked fine.

     The problem with settling for fitting in is that we never really show up, we never really let our true selves be seen.  We stumble out of our sacred space of authenticity; I know, I'm stumbling every day too!  I so appreciate Dr. Brené Brown's work on clarifying that fitting in is very different than belonging.  

     It reminds me of the band of disciples Jesus pulled around him; they belonged - it wasn't about fitting in for them; they asked their questions, tussled for places of honor, learned, tried to figure it out, and keep coming back to learn and be moved by Jesus some more.  They belonged in a way that usurped their differences which were many; in a different situation Simon the Zealot just might have would driven a knife in Matthew's back.  

     I've been back home for a week after spending 6 incredible days with the Daring Way™ community of practitioners.  People from all over the country and a few from Europe marinated together in the language of shame resilience and 'doing the work' - experiencing the Daring Way™ curriculum as participants.  I've done the curriculum several times now but I always learn something new.  And I'm so thankful for the people in my group; it was such a blessing to be together. . . to be a tribe.  

     And this experience makes me reflect back with gratitude on other tribes I'm in that get belonging and check 'fitting in' at the door.  

Volleyball Vulnerability

    I love playing volleyball.  It is fun and I get a rush when I get the ball back over the net . . . and that right there will give you a clue about my level of play.   While I was voted most valuable player on the C squad as a sophomore in high school, I’m pretty sure that’s where my ability peaked.  

    Fast-forward three decades and here I am a sub for a volleyball team some of my friends play on.  This means I play about twice a year and when I do its spur of the moment.  Recently, as my friends and I were driving to the match they shared that their team had moved up a league and I thought my best option was to jump out of the moving car.  I was way more comfortable in the league where there were other players like me who were about 30% of the time getting the ball across the net on serves.  All those shame gremlins started having a heyday in my mind!

    We get on the court and I had to ask my friend which lines on the floor were for the volleyball court and which were the basketball court!  My thoughts oscillated between, “Oh Lord, please don’t let the ball come to me.”  “please let me get this serve across the net.” and “I don’t want to be the reason we lose.”  I hoped the opposing team didn’t start spiking the ball at me because I had been identified as the weak link.

    I loved it.  I hated it.  Even though my serving record hit a dismissal low I’m really glad I did it.  And I think that is what vulnerability feels like - we are exposed for all the world to see that we aren’t perfect, that we are struggling, that we aren’t the best in the room, and that there is failure and misses and bumps that go the wrong way.  Others may even laugh; it can be a cruel world.  

But I have no regrets, I showed up and gave it my all.  I’ve still got my hustle; I still will go after the ball and call out "mine."  

Dr. Brené Brown has written about how we expect children to try new things all the time but as adults we get comfortable doing what we are good at and being content to stay there.  I always think a whole boat load of empathy would be added to kids sluggin' through their homework if we as parents sat down next to them and relearned our Spanish verbs from college (the kids could prepare tests for us!)

So, I'd better model for my kids what I want to see in them . . . that means I'll head back onto the court the next opportunity I get . . . and pray no one figures out I'm the weak link!

What court is calling you?

How Trips to Goodwill are Good for the Soul

     During December I focused on cultivating calm and peace in what can be a hectic time.  Some days felt more on target than others but what was surprising to me was really where that focus on calm and peace landed our family; it landed us cleaning and purging!  Perhaps cultivating some inner calm made me see my external reality differently – it was time for a run – or a few – to Goodwill!  

    Who would have thought a New Year’s Eve cleaning closets could be so life-giving?  Our guiding mantra was “New stuff in – old stuff out.”  

    After two trips to Goodwill, toys boxed away for potential grandchildren (our children are 7 and 4!), two large pieces of furniture up for sale on Craig’s List, and our daughter’s room completely redone here are the things I’ve learned which really relate to a wholehearted life:

          - “Suppose to” probably isn’t a good reason to hold on to something.      

         - If looking at certain objects irritates me, I don’t need them in my life. 

         - It is O.K. to use the ‘nice stuff’ that I’ve been saving for the future; right now is the future. So, I took the TAG off the TWO placemats we received as wedding presents 14 - 14!!!  YEARS ago and we started to use them.  Can't believe it.  

         - I don’t want to be in bondage to stuff.

         - Holding on to stuff won’t drive away inner scarcity; ever find yourself looking into your closet saying, “I don’t have anything to wear”?  

         - If something is ‘only a little broken’ it still is ok to ditch it.    

    Now, I’m embracing the idea of using the nice stuff until it’s the old stuff and when it has served its purpose getting rid of it.  Honestly, it still is hard and somewhat awkward to hold a mug and decide because it has a chip I can part with it.  But when I do, I feel freer.  

We can do some cleaning out  in our emotional lives too.   Dr. Brené Brown talks about how ‘suppose to’ sucks the life out of us and the importance of clarifying what’s really important to us so we can clear out the attitudes and behaviors that clutter up our lives.

And, there are some should's I believe are from God.  Shoulds that the Holy Spirit prompts us with, "I should call my friend."  "I should send that email."  You know that feeling - it comes out of nowhere but keeps coming back around.  I got one the other day when I thought, "I should send this prayer I found on YouTube to so-and-so."  Off I sent it - within 60 minutes both respondents had replied saying 'you don't know how much I needed this today."  It wasn't a big mountain moving effort on my part; it was little and took only seconds but it blessed these women.  These are the Godly shoulds;  the ones that lead to deeper connection with others and isn't it fun to bless someone else because we listened to the 'should' from the Holy Spirit?

How Scarcity in Our Souls Can Make Us Scream 'Bah Hum Bug'

     It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas . . . even in my inbox!  If looking like Christmas means lots of ads and urgency to get in on the latest holiday deal.  The other day in my inbox was an email from a retailer that shall remain nameless and the subject line said, "For the next 12 hours everything is 40%-70% off.  Go."  

     I knew what their "Go" meant; click the link and start shopping but the "Go" of my life meant I needed to go and pick my daughter up from school and then go to the grocery store and then go get my daughter's hair cut, and then go home, cook supper, clean up and get my kids to bed.  By that time I was ready to go to bed myself!   I was already down 4 hours, only 8 more hours before this deal would be gone!  Ah, the pressure! Sound or feel familiar?

     Never enough in our culture of scarcity.  Never enough time.  And this ad was striving to generate sales through reinforcing that there isn't enough time, no time to waste so hurry to get the best deal you can right now.  Maybe this sells blouses and pencil skirts but it doesn't help us cultivate calm and stillness as part of wholehearted living.  

     So, between now and Christmas, as the pressure heats up, I'm going to intentionally daily carve out time for calm and stillness.  I am going to pray Advent prayers - the ones that tell me to slow down and look at the mess in my life and figure out what is really important and the ones that drive me to know where scarcity lives in me . . . and why that just might make the 12 hour shopping buzz seem like a nice way of numbing.  These Advent prayers are a much better bet of knowing the truth of myself and the truth of Jesus love Incarnate.  Those prayers are a much better bet for my soul to join with Mary's in saying, "My soul magnifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior" (Luke 1:46).  

     I know I'm risking missing out on the deal of the century but I'll bank on a sure thing: that I'll be more of the mom, wife, and pastor I want and am called to be!

Why I run - and not just after my children!

I have run off and on since I was 5; when my little legs were too short to keep up with my 6’ tall father’s quick farmer’s gait.  So, because I adored my father, I’d trot along beside him across the farmyard. 

In high school track my coaches realized my gift wasn’t sprinting but I, like a plow horse, could just keep going; so I ran the long distances.

Which eventually led to running longer and longer distances in my 20’s and eventually a few marathons in my early 30’s. 

Now I’m a mom in my early 40’s with two active young children and a desire to preserve my knees so I’m switching to sprint triathlon’s!

But I run because when I do I feel strong;

            it is part of my own wholehearted journey

            my best thoughts come when I’m running;

            it centers me;

            it increases my capacity for uncertainty and daring

           I appreciate God's creation so much more when I'm slowly run through it!

            I know I’m better because of it; my thoughts are clearer, my love is bigger, and I’m so thankful that my body can still keep doing this. 

This is what running has been for me and what it continues to be.  It’s my thing.

What’s your thing?  What is your thing that makes you feel braver and stronger and like you’ve got this? 

I believe that part of our wholehearted lives is knowing what feeds our souls and what doesn’t.  For me, I would die a thousand deaths at a race car rally (and not just from the fumes) and I have friends who would only chose to run if they were being chased by a mama bear.

What’s your thing?  What is it for you that helps you, as Brené Brown says, “Show up, be seen, live brave™?”