Midlife Creative

As I entered the giant indoor amusement park of the Mall of America, I was
immediately bombarded by the noise, the bright lights, the squeals of children, and the
sound of rides. There was excitement in the air. It was a Saturday afternoon, and families
were there to make a memory together. I got the impression that people were determined to put the cares of everyday life on hold for a few hours to share some leisure time, finish the Christmas shopping, and maybe get that annual photo with Santa.

Whether it be a holiday tradition, a birthday celebration, or just an ordinary weekend leisure activity, it didn’t seem like money was an issue. Today was a day to forget how much things cost and go all out. I watched the same parents in line to buy tickets for the rides later
in line for the caricature drawings, facepainting, the arcade, and the food court.
Everything had a cost.
It must be adding up.
How could these families throw their hard-earned money (or credit card) on
a few hours of entertainment? I found myself judging their choices to spend frivolously on
their kids who didn’t seem to appreciate it nearly enough. One child cried, “I want ice
cream!” To that, the parent replied, “You want Everything!”

I tried to remember a time when I went to an amusement park like this as a child.
My Dad was a Christian school teacher, and my mom stayed at home with us seven kids.
We didn’t take vacations. We didn’t even go out to eat unless it was to Burger King where
we each got a burger from the value menu and all split a large order of fries, water cups all
around. Would I have even enjoyed a day at the Mall of America as a child? I certainly have
no desire to bring my kids on rides, get their face painted, or let them burn what little money we had on cheap stuffed animals pulled out of a glass box with a crane. I have a habit of adding up every penny in my mind and worrying about running out each month. This comes from a lifetime of wondering if we could make ends meet.

I’m super crabby about this, I quickly realize. I’m supposed to be feeling compassion for these people, but instead I’m falling into a downward spiral of judgmental thinking. I scold myself and try again. Maybe looking at peoples’ faces – into their eyes – will help me see them more clearly.

I watch a mom with iPhone poised and ready at the bottom of the log chute ride.
She is waiting for her kids to make the final plunge straight down into her view. She
wants to take a video and catch the looks on their faces, their screams, and the splashing
water as they finished the ride. She wants to make a memory that she can replay again
on the ordinary days when the adrenaline from today is gone. She works a lot and can’t remember the last time she had a day like this where she could focus on just being with her kids. As her kids come into view, her face lights up and her tired eyes shimmer with something that wasn’t there before.

I watch a young father holding his 18-month-old daughter, trying to keep her still enough for the caricature artist who is drawing their picture. His girlfriend has talked him into getting this picture drawn as a memory to keep of him and their baby at this age. She looks on in anticipation, waiting to see the final product. She hands Dad a bottle of milk to calm the child who is getting tired of sitting still. The mall was a favorite place to spend their days off. It was where they had met for their first date just two years ago. They had gotten a picture drawn by the same caricature artist on that very date. Now, they came back with their baby to get a similar piece made to hang next to the original.

I watch a couple of brothers with five kids between the two of them. They are at the arcade winning stuffed animals from the crane. They keep adding tickets, wanting everyone to go home a winner. They seem relaxed and happy and enjoying the challenge of the game. The crane is a family favorite because it was the one game the brothers used to play with their Dad when they were kids. Their families immigrated from Somalia in 1990 and their Dad died shortly after that when the boys were still in Elementary school. Coming to the mall and replaying this memory of something they used to do with their Dad helps them feel a little bit more connected to what they have lost and grateful to still have each other and their own kids who are growing up so quickly.

These are just snap shots from an observer; an outsider looking in. There are so many details I don’t know, but what I do see is the love in the caregivers’ eyes when they look at their kids. A love that would do anything to see the kids happy. A love that would move heaven and earth if it meant giving their child what they saw as “a good life”

My questions as a spiritual director for these caregivers would be: “What do these children mean to you? What are your hopes and dreams for them? What is God asking of you as their caregiver? What part of today at the mall held special meaning for you?

My prayer of blessing for these caregivers would be:
“Heavenly father, you delight in your children and long to give them good gifts. You are not
stingy or tight-fisted in how you display love, but generous. Your love overflows in a way
that may appear extravagant to the world that is watching. Just as the woman who
anointed Jesus with a costly perfume and washed his feet with her hair, you desire to lavish your children with love. I ask a blessing on the time these families have together today. I pray that these snap shots taken will not be here today and gone tomorrow, but will
become lasting memories. I pray that these children will grow up feeling safe and loved,
and if they don’t, I pray you would watch over them and lead them to a safe place of
belonging.”

This fall I began a two-year training program to become a certified spiritual director. The program is online and through an organization called Christos. When I first started, I assumed this training would be a tool for me to help others. I had no idea how transformational it would be for me personally. The two BIG things I am learning are:

To embrace silence

and

To set aside my own agenda.

Every morning, I sit in my living room chair with a candle lit and write in my journal a conversation with God. I tell him what I’m thinking about and then listen to see if I hear anything back. Prayer has become equal parts talking and listening, but I believe the amount of listening will increase as time goes by and soon I may not do much talking at all. I ask God what he thinks about me and the other people in my life. I ask him what he thinks about what is happening in the world. I read the Bible slowly and don’t seek to get answers from it or an application. I simply want to know God’s heart for me. I want to BE with God and allow that time with Him to change me. I’m beginning to see connections throughout my life. There are threads in my teaching life and family life and on my commute that all connect together in amazing ways that I cannot plan for. Life has become more restful and less hectic. I am doing the same amount of teaching, but it feels lighter somehow. It’s hard to explain the shift in me, but it is very noticeable to my husband. He says he hardly recognizes me; I’ve changed so much.

I don’t say these things to brag, but to simply recognize that spending time alone with God daily has been transformational and healing.

Let me tell you a little bit about the training program for those who are curious. There are about 50 students from around the U.S. and a few International. We meet weekly on Zoom. We alternate weeks meeting in a large group or small group. In large groups we discuss a presentation we have watched in advance or a book we have read. We have a required reading list of approximately one book every 2 weeks. The books and presentations we’ve covered so far (just to name a few) have been about solitude and silence, the dark night of the soul, stages of faith, body prayer, contemplative practices, the reformation, and church history. Each week as I sit in on the large groups and mostly listen, I am aware that this is a group of people that are joined by some common threads. Most of us have been walking with God for a very long time and are tired of church as we’ve known it. We are longing for something deeper. The writings of the desert fathers and mothers and those living a monastic life are appealing to us. We desire to explore new ways of praying and new ways of being in the world. There is also a desire to reach those who are tired of running on a hamster wheel of American church programming. We are drawn to mystery and questions are welcomed. We long for a rich community life and authentic shared experiences.

On the weeks we do small group, I meet with four others for group spiritual direction. One person brings a concern or burden before the group and then the rest of us listen prayerfully and ask questions, helping the presenter for that day to listen to the Holy Spirit. It’s much more than that, but that is a very simple description. One thing we are not allowed to do is give advice or examples from our own life. This helps to avoid rabbit trails or sharing opinions. It is very different than Bible studies or even therapy. The focus is the movement of the Spirit in and around the person’s life and recognizing how they hear God and recognize him in their daily encounters.

There is also a writing portion of the program. Each month we write a reflection on what we are learning about ourselves and what we are recognizing. There are also other papers to write which are all reflective and not graded or critiqued. Our most recent assignment was to go to a place with people and simply sit and observe for 2 hours and then write about your observations. I went to the Mall of America. The purpose of the writing is for each participant’s own noticing’s and personal growth.

A 36-hour silent retreat is built into the first year. My silent retreat will take place in January at a retreat center called Pacem in Terrace. I had 4 different people mention it to me within a short time and I took that as a sign to go there. I’ll be staying in a cabin alone and not speaking to anyone while I’m there except for the person who will greet me and pray for me when I arrive and when I leave. Setting aside any agenda of my own for that time, I’m very curious as to how it will go. I’ll probably sleep a lot and write in my journal. Maybe I’ll do some art or take walks if it’s not too cold.

If this whole spiritual direction thing is intriguing to you, I would love to talk with you more. I believe the second year will include more one-to-one appointments with individuals. These can be done in person or on zoom. Spiritual direction appointments can be especially helpful for those in a time of life transition, faith transition, disillusioned by faith, or experiencing grief.

Taken from a presentation I gave at the Summit Sister’s monthly women’s gathering at Summit Church in St Paul.

“Today I want to talk about my lifelong battle with fear and anxiety. God has been inviting me to move from a state of being asleep and fearful to a state of being awake and ready for anything. When we are afraid, we often react in a fight, flight, or freeze response. We handle our anxiety by running away and hiding, getting stuck and not knowing how to move forward, or by trying to remain in control at all costs. I have coped with anxiety in all three of these ways.

I grew up extremely shy and cautious. I quickly adopted that label for myself and disqualified myself from doing anything outwardly loud or crazy. I was an introvert who was happy taking up space in the background and filling a supporter role.

When I met my husband, I was attracted to his loud and boisterous personality. He was impulsive and always changing the plans at the last minute. I admired his free spirit and outgoing way with people. I had never given myself permission to try on this type of personality. I was a rule follower who never took any chances. When I was around him, he challenged me to step out of my comfort zone. We got married and lived together for our first 5 years in the small town of Morris, MN. Our life was pretty simple back then, and we didn’t have much to be afraid of. Back then, my biggest hurdles were making a phone call or introducing myself to a stranger. I had never driven on a freeway and the rent in our first apartment was less than $200 a month.

My anxiety really didn’t come alive until I got pregnant with my first child. I remember lying in bed at night wondering what the birth would be like. I became so fearful that I would lie awake for hours gripped with fear. This was the first time I remember not feeling in control.

Anxiety surfaced again whenever there were big changes or unknowns in my life. I’m going to share a few things that caused fear to rise up in me.

I was fearful when I had to have an emergency C-section instead of a natural birth like I had expected with my first child.

I was fearful when my infant was taken by ambulance twice after having febrile seizures.

I was fearful when we had to move out of our duplex in Minneapolis with our two young children and back in with my parents, because we couldn’t afford our rent at the time.

I was fearful that we would lose our next house again because of financial stress and job loss.

I was fearful, but then relieved, when one of my children was diagnosed with autism. All of the questions about why they were different than other kids their age started to make more sense.

I was fearful when my child told me they were gay and transgender. This was mostly because it was such a foreign concept to me at the time, and I didn’t know how I would tell my family.

I was fearful when several people close to me told me they didn’t believe in God anymore and were not interested in being a Christian or going to church. Since this was my whole world at the time, it shook me to the core and started me on a journey of questioning my own faith.

I was fearful when my husband and I experienced a rocky season in our marriage, and I wasn’t sure if we would make it through.

I am hoping you could relate to something on my list of life experiences. If you are older, your fears might include aging, dementia, loss of a spouse, health issues, and any other number of things I have yet to experience.

My question for God is: “When these fears and anxieties surface due to change and circumstances beyond our control, how do we stay “awake and fearless”? How do we not flee, freeze, or fight? Here are five things I have learned to do in these times of stress and change.

#1 – Breathing. It sounds simple, but deep breathing is such a life saver in these stressful times.

#2- Worship. Where do you feel closest to God? I love to spend time with God in nature by the water. Some people love music, or art, or exercise. Do the things that bring you delight as a form of worship.

#3 – Remembering. Remind yourself of God’s faithfulness in the past and all the things He has brought you through. He will do it again.

#4 – Speak God’s promises. Go back to those life verses and promises from God’s word that speak to you personally. Write these words out on little cards or somewhere you can see them often. Memorize these words or put them into a song.

#5 – Tell someone else about your struggle. It can be powerful to share your need with another. When I have spoken my need out loud to a trusted friend, it has sometimes been so powerful that I have felt an actual weight lift off my shoulders.

Taking the first step to do something new you are afraid of can be hard. One of the things God has been challenging me in personally is my fear of public speaking. A couple years ago, I told God that if I was given an invitation to speak publicly, I would say YES. My first yes was speaking on a podcast, then another podcast. After that came an invitation to speak in person to a piano teacher’s group. Then came the invitation to speak at this women’s gathering of Summit Sisters. As I was walking to church one day, God brought my attention to the letters above the doors at each of the church entrances. The smallest door was labeled door A. Then the next biggest door was door B. The front, public facing doors on the main street are door C. God reminded me that his invitation to me is only what He knows I am able to handle. He will take me step by step through the doors as I am ready. He will hold my hand as I walk through each door and give me everything I need in that moment. If God is calling you to step into something new that is unfamiliar or scary, your job is to walk through door A.

The final picture I want to leave you with is of a person being carried down a river on an inner tube. Instead of putting their feet down in order to slow themselves down and control their direction, I see God’s invitation to us being, “Lean back and look up and see where the river takes you. You can trust me”