The Importance of Being Named
August 25, 2018
My husband Jordan and I are in the midst of choosing a name for our firstborn. We have chosen not to find out the baby's sex, so while we have a girl name locked in, we continue to deliberate on a boy name and, subsequently, (a) middle name(s). The baby will be here sometime in November if they keep cookin' as they should, so we still have some time... but this is a serious task!
Naturally, I've been thinking a lot of "what's in a name?" and the power of parents to speak into the lives of their children. How do we want to name not just their person, but their qualities, their strengths, their fears, their joys, our joys in them, their beauty... naming is an important part of relationships.
My name is Rachel. It means "innocent lamb" or "little lamb". Especially as a child, I enjoyed being a content follower-lamb to my big sister, or my parents, or older cousins. However, I would imagine most people who know me as an adult would not call me a follower, although, at my best, I am soft, teachable, vulnerable, and happy to be led.
My middle name is Renée. I was given my paternal grandfather's first name. When I gave up my maiden name when I married Jordan, I was glad that I have his name buried in the middle of my given and taken names... because I'm from his family, and that is an important part of who I am.
My last name is now Pipher. I chose to take my husband's last name to show our family-unit-ness in a name. I like being Rachel Pipher because I am proud to be Jordan's family.
I have many nicknames. They are some of the most prominent things I have been called in my life. Here are a few: Gigs, Auntie Gigs, Uncle Rachel, Diddy, Fluffer, Rachie, Miss, Rach-to-the-H, Sweetpea.
I have had a few different titles and informal roles. Daughter, Sister, Wife/Bride, Friend, Mentor, Director, Assistant, Student, Social Worker, Worship Leader, Speaker, Counsellor...
But I have a deeper names. I have a fuller titles. My most anchored identity was given to me before my first cry. Since then, it is continually spoken to the depths of who I am and is not shifted by circumstance. I am more known, more loved, more safe in my identity of daughter in Christ than I am by any of the heritage, labels, or status I could try acquire.
I think it's important that an individual know how to answer the following questions: Who are you? Who told you? One of my prayers for our unborn baby is that they would know the depths and truth of their identity. I feel confident that we will do an okay job naming them, but that will always be secondary to Who they are given their truest names by. The truth is, our child is loved by, formed by, known by the Maker of the heavens and the earth. The foundations upon which they are established in Christ are not shakeable. They are not altered. Though circumstances change, their identity, because of God, is steadfast.
ISAIAH 43:1-2
But now, this is what the Lord, your Creator says, O Jacob,
And He who formed you, O Israel,
“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you [from captivity];
I have called you by name; you are Mine!
2
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
And through the rivers, they will not overwhelm you.
When you walk through fire, you will not be scorched,
Nor will the flame burn you.
Naturally, I've been thinking a lot of "what's in a name?" and the power of parents to speak into the lives of their children. How do we want to name not just their person, but their qualities, their strengths, their fears, their joys, our joys in them, their beauty... naming is an important part of relationships.
My name is Rachel. It means "innocent lamb" or "little lamb". Especially as a child, I enjoyed being a content follower-lamb to my big sister, or my parents, or older cousins. However, I would imagine most people who know me as an adult would not call me a follower, although, at my best, I am soft, teachable, vulnerable, and happy to be led.
My middle name is Renée. I was given my paternal grandfather's first name. When I gave up my maiden name when I married Jordan, I was glad that I have his name buried in the middle of my given and taken names... because I'm from his family, and that is an important part of who I am.
My last name is now Pipher. I chose to take my husband's last name to show our family-unit-ness in a name. I like being Rachel Pipher because I am proud to be Jordan's family.
I have many nicknames. They are some of the most prominent things I have been called in my life. Here are a few: Gigs, Auntie Gigs, Uncle Rachel, Diddy, Fluffer, Rachie, Miss, Rach-to-the-H, Sweetpea.
I have had a few different titles and informal roles. Daughter, Sister, Wife/Bride, Friend, Mentor, Director, Assistant, Student, Social Worker, Worship Leader, Speaker, Counsellor...
But I have a deeper names. I have a fuller titles. My most anchored identity was given to me before my first cry. Since then, it is continually spoken to the depths of who I am and is not shifted by circumstance. I am more known, more loved, more safe in my identity of daughter in Christ than I am by any of the heritage, labels, or status I could try acquire.
I think it's important that an individual know how to answer the following questions: Who are you? Who told you? One of my prayers for our unborn baby is that they would know the depths and truth of their identity. I feel confident that we will do an okay job naming them, but that will always be secondary to Who they are given their truest names by. The truth is, our child is loved by, formed by, known by the Maker of the heavens and the earth. The foundations upon which they are established in Christ are not shakeable. They are not altered. Though circumstances change, their identity, because of God, is steadfast.
ISAIAH 43:1-2
But now, this is what the Lord, your Creator says, O Jacob,
And He who formed you, O Israel,
“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you [from captivity];
I have called you by name; you are Mine!
2
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
And through the rivers, they will not overwhelm you.
When you walk through fire, you will not be scorched,
Nor will the flame burn you.
thirty:lessons&years
December 21, 2017
thirty:lessons&years
- being a leader often means being alone.
- it’s important to lead by example; words alone aren’t very convincing. (thx:ma/pa.)
- hope can be lost, held in waiting, regained and rebuilt.
- the best laughter has a tell: your knees buckle.
- falling in love is by another name is simply finding ‘home’.
- pain is a teacher — it will change your {physical, spiritual or emotional} course passively or actively.
- waiting can be destructive or productive; same with silence.
- being vulnerable does not make you weak, it makes you honest.
- caring for others without caring for yourself does not make you brave, it makes you burnt out.
- “who are you? who told you?” — ask the One who made you what you’re worth.
- there’s nothing like the moment a person’s eyes light up they recognize the truth of their worth.
- boundaries are a gift you give and receive at the same time.
- a first step toward reconciliation often looks like listening.
- continue extending peace even after it’s slapped out of your hand.
- going all-in/heart-on-sleeve is vulnerable, scary, and worth it every time. don’t play small.
- worship is as much about praise for who God is as it is about reminding ourselves of who God is.
- you are only as strong as where you get your strength from.
- good mentors are people who really see you, and then invite (read: “push”) you to commit more fully to who you really are.
- treat “should” as a red flag and take it out of your vocabulary (dear Type 1s, I just saved you hours in counselling)
- a good way to teach your heart something true is to sing it. and, repeat.
- doing conflict doesn’t have to hurt; instead it can feel like being heard, safe, and cared for.
- God is a miracle-worker who makes beautiful things out of dust.
- resilience is a characteristic crafted in pressure and inspiring to witness in its full effect.
- you’ve experienced the privileges of the dominant culture if you’ve thought to yourself “why are they changing the status quo?”
- be wary of rounding out someone’s identity from what you know of a “single story”
- i found out i was an introvert when I acknowledged that my favourite activity is going for coffee with a friend.
- if you consistently smile at people you see, you will have strangers sharing smiles with you all day.
- one of my longest waits turned into my greatest love, so… sometimes the wait actually is worth it.
- it's okay to cry.
- ask better questions, stretch your imagination, make less assumptions, play longer… (Titled: Things I Learn from Jordan)
when the tears fall
June 12, 2017
WHEN THE TEARS FALL -- Tim Hughes
Listen here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XkdKJqQkYeo
I've had questions without answers;
I've known sorrow, I have known pain.
But there's one thing that I'll cling to
You are faithful, Jesus, You're true.
When hope is lost, I'll call you Saviour
When pain surrounds, I'll call you Healer
When silence falls, You'll be the song within my heart.
In the lone hour of my sorrow
Through the darkest night of my soul
You surround me, and sustain me
My Defender, forevermore
When hope is lost, I'll call you Saviour
When pain surrounds, I'll call you Healer
When silence falls, You'll be the song within my heart.
And I will praise You, I will praise You
When the tears fall, still I will sing to You
And I will praise You, Jesus, praise You.
Through the suffering, still I will sing.
When hope is lost, I'll call you Saviour
When pain surrounds, I'll call you Healer
When silence falls, You'll be the song within my heart.
When the laughter fails to comfort
When my heart aches, Lord, are you there?
When confusion is all around me
And the darkness is my closest friend
Still I will praise you, Jesus, praise you
I've known sorrow, I have known pain.
But there's one thing that I'll cling to
You are faithful, Jesus, You're true.
When hope is lost, I'll call you Saviour
When pain surrounds, I'll call you Healer
When silence falls, You'll be the song within my heart.
In the lone hour of my sorrow
Through the darkest night of my soul
You surround me, and sustain me
My Defender, forevermore
When hope is lost, I'll call you Saviour
When pain surrounds, I'll call you Healer
When silence falls, You'll be the song within my heart.
And I will praise You, I will praise You
When the tears fall, still I will sing to You
And I will praise You, Jesus, praise You.
Through the suffering, still I will sing.
When hope is lost, I'll call you Saviour
When pain surrounds, I'll call you Healer
When silence falls, You'll be the song within my heart.
When the laughter fails to comfort
When my heart aches, Lord, are you there?
When confusion is all around me
And the darkness is my closest friend
Still I will praise you, Jesus, praise you
/ //
This song started ringing out in my head today. Note: I haven't sang or heard this song in over... 7 years?! However. Its message ties in to the sermon I heard on Sunday (that we come to worship together because we are called to community), the prayers my friends prayed over me on Thursday night (that hope would be restored, and that my neck/back would be healed), and the pain that has been surrounding my heart in the last weeks and months (loneliness in leadership, false sense of responsibility, fear).
Okay, God. I'm listening.
As the fierce and radiant Steffany Gretzinger once sang: "Sometimes we sing until we believe."
Dear friends prayed for me on Thursday night, and brought with them anointing oil and frankincense (what's good for Jesus is good for me! It felt nice, too.). As they prayed, I confessed my anger towards God... of feeling left alone in my pain. We prayed for healing. We prayed for relief. We prayed for my hope to be restored.
After praying, my friends told me they are committed to carry my hope for me when I can't. Wow! Think of that -- it's like they are holding up posters that say "giving up is not an option" or "we'll carry you if we have to but you are gonna finish this" as a run a marathon, or pushing a proverbial wheelchair across a milestone, because I don't have the strength to do it on my own. They'll help me carry it until I believe it, too.
Let this be a plug for community -- newsflash: sometimes having hope is based in excitement or is simple, but it's not always that way, and we are not realistically able to always hold onto hope on our own. Life is too hard. People lie to you, friends desert you, health fails, marriages falter, children are bullied, jobs are taxing or lost or not able to be secured. Seasons change. People who you count on as pillars of strength move away, or pass away, or fail, or grow apart from you. But, you still need to be known, and, sometimes, carried. You still need people to raise your banners up, reminding you of who you are and what you're called to. Plug in! Get connected to a place that is filled with people who know when you aren't singing from your heart. Who hold you up when you can't lift your head.
Hebrews 6:16-19 -- "People swear by someone greater than themselves, and the oath confirms what is said and puts an end to all argument. Because God wanted to make the unchanging nature of his purpose very clear to the heirs of what was promised, he confirmed it with an oath. God did this so that, by two unchangeable things in which it is impossible for God to lie, we have fled to take hold of the hope set before us may be greatly encouraged. We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where our forerunner, Jesus, has entered on our behalf."
Hope is only possible because of Jesus. Freedom is only possible in Jesus.
when pain surrounds, I'll call you Healer
Some days I am physically overwhelmed by pain. This usually is followed by a cloud of sadness (which usually looks like frustration). Real talk? It's really REALLY hard to hope for healing when you face pain everyday. Maybe that seems counter-intuitive... you might think: "But wouldn't you just be hoping all the time that the pain would go away if it is so bad?" Actually, no... when you're in pain, and you know how long the pain has been around, it's hard to imagine life without it. It's hard to believe in healing.
Chronic pain has kept me in a sort of submission where I am in a holding pattern of believing "this is what will be". Sidenote -- I can imagine there is a similar (but, of course, vastly different) feeling for the journey of suffering from depression, or grief, or social anxiety, or battling an eating disorder or substance use challenges. You feel beat before the day starts. But the truth is that God is a Healer. God is in the business of restoration. Even when you are not healed, and although I am still limited by my pain, God sees and knows the hurting.
The truth that God is Healer is more enduring and more steadfast than the reality of my pain. Healing is possible!
The truth that God is Healer is more enduring and more steadfast than the reality of my pain. Healing is possible!
when silence falls, you'll be the song within my heart
One of the ways my friends, mentors and family know when I am not in a good place is when I stop singing. I grow quiet. I play small. This is usually the point when they start encouraging me to reconnect, to seek God's presence. Rest in it. Stop moving and just dwell. Bask. To sing... even roar.
Sometimes... if I (ever) get quiet enough, I am reminded that I only sing because he gave me something to sing about. Because of His goodness and the restoration and beauty He is working out in our midst. Around us. In us.
When silence falls, we often fill it. Mute it (2 x silence = loud?). Drown it. Squash it. Why? Because we don't believe that God has nice things to say to us. Because we believe lies about God's character, thinking that He has already abandoned us. We don't believe that God delights in us. We are not comfortable being serenaded by the Love of our Creator. So we work to make sure others say nice things to us, or delight in us, or whisper sweet nothings to us. We work. (Work, work, work...)
When it gets real quiet: Try to listen. Ask yourself what you believe about God in the quiet moments of your heart. Ask Him who He is. See what He tells you about himself. [Feel free to report back!!]
// /
When silence falls, we often fill it. Mute it (2 x silence = loud?). Drown it. Squash it. Why? Because we don't believe that God has nice things to say to us. Because we believe lies about God's character, thinking that He has already abandoned us. We don't believe that God delights in us. We are not comfortable being serenaded by the Love of our Creator. So we work to make sure others say nice things to us, or delight in us, or whisper sweet nothings to us. We work. (Work, work, work...)
When it gets real quiet: Try to listen. Ask yourself what you believe about God in the quiet moments of your heart. Ask Him who He is. See what He tells you about himself. [Feel free to report back!!]
// /
Have you ever lost hope? Did it just slip out of view with some horrible news? Did the fog roll in as worry or pain crept into your everyday existence? Did you part ways with joy in a difficult season, begin partnering with fear or lust or shame, and never find your way back?
Come back. Work it out. Talk it out. Cry it out. Sing it out. Tell God you're angry or lost or lonely. Give it up. Lament. Shout. Roar. Let the tears fall.
///
give us Your heart
January 31, 2017
When I started this blog in 2009, it was in some of my loneliest days of living far from dear friends and within a time that I was learning what it meant to sing praises even when I felt too low to smile. I named it 'Off With Your Sandals' because it was for times when I needed to come in close and listen closely to what God was telling me about Himself, about how He loves us (all of us), who I am in Him, and what I'm called to.
In its earliest form, Off With Your Sandals took the form of song studies, and I dissected the parts of the song that spoke to me and ushered me into a posture that changed my heart and/or mind. I usually listened to the song on the repeat, sang it loudly, and took an afternoon or evening to write about my response.
All this to say that I was brought back to my computer screen, loud singing and song repeating because of this song today
GIVE US YOUR HEART
by: The Emerging Sound (feat. Melanie Tierce)
Your eyes are on the lowly,
Though others look away
Your feet run to the broken
Your hands are quick to save
Make us like You, Lord
You walk with the forgotten
And offer them a home
Adopting the unwanted
And calling them Your own
Make us like You, Lord
Give us Your heart
Let the Light of Heaven shine
As we step into the dark
Oh,
Give us Your heart, Oh
Give us Your heart
To see Your Kingdom come
And death depart
Oh,
Give us Your heart, Oh
Give us Your Heart
Let justice flow,
Like a river in a desert
Let the nations know
That You will reign forever
As the earth beholds
The glory of the Saviour
Let justice flow
--------
I've read a lot this past month, in a season post-Masters and pre-work, about justice according to God (I highly recommend Tim Keller's 'Generous Justice'). The rightness and fullness of God's kingdom is all about reconciliation, adoption, restoration, and God's grace, mercy, beauty and compassion. This is God's heart for His people, for creation... to be reconciled to their purposes and to be known fully, and to live fully as loved and accepted.
'as we step into the dark'
First of all.... we must choose to step into darkness. We are made to be Light, to share Light, experience Light, and then BRING it to the darkness. I am grieved as I watch dominant voices and powers within our societies reject and marginalize the 'least of these' (Mt 25:40) when Jesus says that it is to them we are called to show care.
In its earliest form, Off With Your Sandals took the form of song studies, and I dissected the parts of the song that spoke to me and ushered me into a posture that changed my heart and/or mind. I usually listened to the song on the repeat, sang it loudly, and took an afternoon or evening to write about my response.
All this to say that I was brought back to my computer screen, loud singing and song repeating because of this song today
GIVE US YOUR HEART
by: The Emerging Sound (feat. Melanie Tierce)
Your eyes are on the lowly,
Though others look away
Your feet run to the broken
Your hands are quick to save
Make us like You, Lord
You walk with the forgotten
And offer them a home
Adopting the unwanted
And calling them Your own
Make us like You, Lord
Oh,
Give us Your heart, OhGive us Your heart
Let the Light of Heaven shine
As we step into the dark
Oh,
Give us Your heart, Oh
Give us Your heart
To see Your Kingdom come
And death depart
Oh,
Give us Your heart, Oh
Give us Your Heart
Let justice flow,
Like a river in a desert
Let the nations know
That You will reign forever
As the earth beholds
The glory of the Saviour
Let justice flow
--------
'you walk with the forgotten' / 'adopting the unwanted'
I've been thinking about how Jesus might have become the 'Friend of Sinners'. It takes a while to be known as someone's friend. I imagine that he was often found sitting with people that others would walk away from sooner than to join on the ground. He scandalized the rule-keepers with his grace. He saw that each one was needing love and acceptance and restoration. This is His heart. His heart standing with, walking with, identifying with the lonely and rejected (Prov 14:31, 19:17).
I've been thinking about how Jesus might have become the 'Friend of Sinners'. It takes a while to be known as someone's friend. I imagine that he was often found sitting with people that others would walk away from sooner than to join on the ground. He scandalized the rule-keepers with his grace. He saw that each one was needing love and acceptance and restoration. This is His heart. His heart standing with, walking with, identifying with the lonely and rejected (Prov 14:31, 19:17).
'give us Your heart'
God's heart is kind and attentive. God's heart is mighty. God's justice is not half-full, it calls us to a deeper, higher calling of addressing the needs of others. God's heart, the knowledge of it's "reckless love" will energize us to do something.
God's heart is kind and attentive. God's heart is mighty. God's justice is not half-full, it calls us to a deeper, higher calling of addressing the needs of others. God's heart, the knowledge of it's "reckless love" will energize us to do something.
'as we step into the dark'
First of all.... we must choose to step into darkness. We are made to be Light, to share Light, experience Light, and then BRING it to the darkness. I am grieved as I watch dominant voices and powers within our societies reject and marginalize the 'least of these' (Mt 25:40) when Jesus says that it is to them we are called to show care.
I want to be made like Him. Transformed into His likeness. I remember singing with my whole heart "break my heart for what breaks yours" all those years ago, and I still want that. But... here's the thing, God's heart does break, His desire is for Light to spill out into darkness. Darkness is no more when Light gets there.
I have seen some darkness in the last few years and even (and maybe especially) the last few days. Sometimes I want to do is look away and stay comfortable. Things are far from what they are supposed to be. It is hard to go sometimes, we can get 'spent' and 'burnt out'... but... what I learned from my experiences is that we must be equipped and prepared, but we also MUST go. We put on the Armour of God, we walk into God's work for us, and we make sure that we go. We can be sure God goes with us just as He prepares us.
'let justice flow'
Can you imagine what it would be like if justice were to 'flow'? Full justice. Full restoration, communities bursting with Light, and reconciliation of all the very many broken things. If justice were to flow... it would be approaching a land that has not known it as it was intended.. like a river in the desert of our darknesses.
How do we bring that? How can we begin to break the fallow ground that is our hearts and our society and our own staleness, fear, anxiety?
Isaiah 49:8-10 "In a time of favour I have answered you; in a day of salvation I have helped you; I will keep you as a covenant to the people, to establish the land, to apportion the desolate heritages, saying to the prisoners, 'Come out,' to those who are in darkness, 'Appear.' They shall feed along the ways, on all the bare heights shall be their pasture; they shall not hunger or thirst, neither scorching wind now sun shall strike them, for he who has pity on them will lead them."
God has enough justice, goodness, and faithfulness to go 'round. Let's share in His heart and generously bring justice with our eyes, breath, hands and feet, time and care, words and prayers.
what we need most
January 6, 2017
habit of awareness / pt 2
hope.
i have seen great beauty come from barren ground that no one could imagine would yield fruit. today i believe that God is active, despite what i experience as waiting.
and as i wait... i believe that, as image-bearers of Christ, i am called to be an agent of reconciliation despite being in a world that teaches us to isolate, fortify, and move on from/suppress/hide pain. lean in. listen, we embrace, & we stay despite it being difficult.
justice.
i have a much easier time identifying injustice, actually. i have a keen eye for finding the parts of the whole that are missing, dysfunctional or broken. but when healthy, deep and full justice is present in someone's integrity, their advocacy of another, or the restoration of a broken reality, there is beauty beyond measure.
injustice makes me mad. justice is a symptom of shalom and heaven that i long for.
//
more things to think on...
forgiveness.
redemption.
restoration.
reconciliation.
healing.
truth.
understanding.
wholeness.
peace.
joy.
grace.
mercy.
safety.
wisdom.
freedom.
discipline.
JESUS.
\\
hope.
i have seen great beauty come from barren ground that no one could imagine would yield fruit. today i believe that God is active, despite what i experience as waiting.
and as i wait... i believe that, as image-bearers of Christ, i am called to be an agent of reconciliation despite being in a world that teaches us to isolate, fortify, and move on from/suppress/hide pain. lean in. listen, we embrace, & we stay despite it being difficult.
justice.
i have a much easier time identifying injustice, actually. i have a keen eye for finding the parts of the whole that are missing, dysfunctional or broken. but when healthy, deep and full justice is present in someone's integrity, their advocacy of another, or the restoration of a broken reality, there is beauty beyond measure.
injustice makes me mad. justice is a symptom of shalom and heaven that i long for.
//
more things to think on...
forgiveness.
redemption.
restoration.
reconciliation.
healing.
truth.
understanding.
wholeness.
peace.
joy.
grace.
mercy.
safety.
wisdom.
freedom.
discipline.
JESUS.
\\
habit of awareness, part 1-4
July 13, 2016
In an effort to "listen to my life" in this season of discernment, I want to build a habit of awareness. To process parts of my journey, I am naming some of the pieces of my life that have shaped my heart and spirit.
With this awareness, I hope to find a way forward into what my heart's desire is -- so that I can pursue what's next with confidence that I was prepared for it.
PART 1 -- Pain
I am 10 years into my journey of daily physical pain. I've learned in those years that pain dulls other experiences. It steals clarity, drains energy and takes up attention. It depresses and suppresses the good things. It highlights the bad; it embitters.
I dislike having this weakness. Actually, I hate it. Its enduring presence has taught me to be less hopeful. It has, at times, made me angry. It has taught me to ball up my hands into fists, and fear when I could trust.
I have often felt as if I am acting from only a fraction of myself, while some other parts are taken up in the grind of navigating pain.
PART 2 -- Reconciliation
Pain comes in many forms and through some of my experiences of lost relationship, I have felt unspeakable sadness. I grieve it -- the loss of safety and shared experience amongst friends. This is the painful to me, it feels fragmented and broken. I know some might say -- "ease up! people move on! get a little tougher." But I think I will always grieve it. I want the channels between me and others to be clear. I don't like barriers. I think this comes from leaving and starting again a few times in my life -- I like knowing there is a chance of moving forward together and taking care of each other. We belong to each other.
I have a deep desire for reconciliation and wholeness in relationship. This to me feels like an unquenchable, leaving-the-door-open hope. Losing friends or broken relationships are to me an earthly picture of second best. Best case scenario is harmony and peace between everyone. It was never meant to be this way.
PART 3 -- Love
My life has been filled to over-flowing with messy, real, running-over love. With a healthy bedrock of patient, intentional, intergenerational, deep-and-wide family love, I have learned good habits of trust and truth in love. My family members are among some of my greatest love-gifts I have and have the protect-each-other and build-together types of loving hearts. I also have a beautiful smattering of belly-laughing, sisterhood and brother-like friendships that ground me and teach me about love in its many forms. I have been blessed with the kind of love that draws you home and keeps you safe in my husband, Jordan, whom I call 'Love'. Daily, he shows me reckless-abandon, committed love that strengthens me and primes each day with peace in knowing I am always loved. Finally, I have a jealous King, resurrected Saviour, and kind Lord who has shown me such love and sacrifice in Jesus and through His generous grace towards me.
I am abundantly blessed. I know deep love and feel secure in it.
PART 4 -- Rest
I don't rest well.
(On that note, I'm taking a break from writing. Will be back with more 'parts' soon.)
(On that note, I'm taking a break from writing. Will be back with more 'parts' soon.)
i'm doin' me
February 8, 2016
"Let each person lead the life that the LORD has assigned to Him." -- 1 Corinthians 7:17
In the past few months I've been thinking about what is assigned for me to do. As some of you know, I had the privilege of working with some of my favourite people in the world over the past couple years. In the fall, I stepped away from my role working with youth who have been removed from home and are trying to find themselves, who have found themselves before a court of law.
I learned so much with them and from them. Working with them was truly a privilege.
Even though I no longer work with those youth, with the distance of a bit of time I am trying to have a look at what I learned over the time I worked where I felt the most useful in my whole life. Will I return to working with them? Where am I "assigned" to offer my best/all/gifts?
My experiences with these youth was equal parts a joy and a real challenge, since the youth needed so much more than I could ever find in myself to give them. They needed home. They needed hope. As I wrapped up my cases to hand them off to the next worker who would be taking over my 'cases', I was discouraged. I felt that my efforts had been insufficient, my energy was depleted, and mostly, I was pretty heart-broken. Stepping away was necessary for many reasons at the time, and God provided me a great job to be able to pursue further education
As I am back in school and working part-time, I am looking at a few things that have cropped up in the last few years of work/heart life that I am working on sorting out in what feels like a pivotal year for my 'next steps'.
-- figure out who you are working [so hard] for. the truth is that your best will sometimes not change anything about the circumstances of someone you are trying to 'help', and sometimes working hard it will only make people like you less. in other words: people are going to disappoint you, set your sights on a steadier footing. a great book I'm reading currently is "Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership" by Ruth Haley Barton - and that has been a gift.
-- where's the balance? yes, the work/life one. when work is knowing the unspeakable has happened, that people are aching, that their joy is gone, and life is happening all around in my own experience. how do i engage with friends at dinner, enjoy community spaces, and live as a whole person whose experiences have intersected with the great pain of others.
-- what's the game plan? should my heart be on the defensive or offensive? I am very sensitive -- I feel things very deeply. this could be seen as an asset or a liability in my line of work. do i go the way of the traditional, veteran social worker (no offence to anyone, just have been privy to some stereotypically sad cases) -- with calluses and wounds of years in the business, or do i stay soft, and feel the waves of pain as they come along within the stories and injustices and brokenness around?(even if it levels me?)
-- acknowledge and embrace brokenness. one day about 8 months ago I sat with my Spiritual Director after one of the youth i had worked closely with was stabbed and sobbed. she asked if i thought I should consider not doing the work I was doing. maybe, she said, i wasn't made for this. maybe my heart was too sensitive. but maybe, too, i was made for this, and my brokenness was a gift that helped me better understand God's heart and hurts when it comes to the stories that were so grieving me.
Jordan and I often sing a line of a song to eachother these days-- "don't be mad 'cause I'm doin' me better than you doin' you". but, really, that's sometimes the hardest part, though, isn't it? figuring out what doin' you really requires.
From the looks of it, I've got my work cut out for me :)
In the past few months I've been thinking about what is assigned for me to do. As some of you know, I had the privilege of working with some of my favourite people in the world over the past couple years. In the fall, I stepped away from my role working with youth who have been removed from home and are trying to find themselves, who have found themselves before a court of law.
I learned so much with them and from them. Working with them was truly a privilege.
Even though I no longer work with those youth, with the distance of a bit of time I am trying to have a look at what I learned over the time I worked where I felt the most useful in my whole life. Will I return to working with them? Where am I "assigned" to offer my best/all/gifts?
My experiences with these youth was equal parts a joy and a real challenge, since the youth needed so much more than I could ever find in myself to give them. They needed home. They needed hope. As I wrapped up my cases to hand them off to the next worker who would be taking over my 'cases', I was discouraged. I felt that my efforts had been insufficient, my energy was depleted, and mostly, I was pretty heart-broken. Stepping away was necessary for many reasons at the time, and God provided me a great job to be able to pursue further education
As I am back in school and working part-time, I am looking at a few things that have cropped up in the last few years of work/heart life that I am working on sorting out in what feels like a pivotal year for my 'next steps'.
-- figure out who you are working [so hard] for. the truth is that your best will sometimes not change anything about the circumstances of someone you are trying to 'help', and sometimes working hard it will only make people like you less. in other words: people are going to disappoint you, set your sights on a steadier footing. a great book I'm reading currently is "Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership" by Ruth Haley Barton - and that has been a gift.
-- where's the balance? yes, the work/life one. when work is knowing the unspeakable has happened, that people are aching, that their joy is gone, and life is happening all around in my own experience. how do i engage with friends at dinner, enjoy community spaces, and live as a whole person whose experiences have intersected with the great pain of others.
-- what's the game plan? should my heart be on the defensive or offensive? I am very sensitive -- I feel things very deeply. this could be seen as an asset or a liability in my line of work. do i go the way of the traditional, veteran social worker (no offence to anyone, just have been privy to some stereotypically sad cases) -- with calluses and wounds of years in the business, or do i stay soft, and feel the waves of pain as they come along within the stories and injustices and brokenness around?(even if it levels me?)
-- acknowledge and embrace brokenness. one day about 8 months ago I sat with my Spiritual Director after one of the youth i had worked closely with was stabbed and sobbed. she asked if i thought I should consider not doing the work I was doing. maybe, she said, i wasn't made for this. maybe my heart was too sensitive. but maybe, too, i was made for this, and my brokenness was a gift that helped me better understand God's heart and hurts when it comes to the stories that were so grieving me.
Jordan and I often sing a line of a song to eachother these days-- "don't be mad 'cause I'm doin' me better than you doin' you". but, really, that's sometimes the hardest part, though, isn't it? figuring out what doin' you really requires.
From the looks of it, I've got my work cut out for me :)
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