It Starts With Me
I can't even begin to tell all of the stories of hope and change and self-sacrifice that I had the immense honor of listening to and immersing into while I was in Israel/Palestine with The Global Immersion Project.
As we sat overlooking the shore of the Sea of Galilee towards the end of our trip, which had been filled with meeting peacemakers, learning from people of different faiths and ethnicities and backgrounds, and traveling around Israel and Palestine, we were posed the question:What is God calling you into that doesn't make sense?The answer for me was an overwhelming and freeing call to DEEP PEACE within myself. To be reconciled. To grow in my worship and discipleship of the Prince of Peace. As one who's been particularly gung-ho about ACTING in the face of injustice, this call to deep peace WITHIN myself didn't make sense. When I learn about a new social issue, I want to immediately change my shopping habits, join some kind of club or group and do what I can to volunteer my time and money and skills to help the cause.I know this about myself.In fact, God's been subtly and not-so-subtly been calling me to stop and sit at His feet, especially in the moments when I most want to run out and change the world.He's said it before.Bask. Come to me. Be loved.So it shouldn't have come as a surprise as I sat overlooking the choppy, wind blown Sea of Galilee, that Jesus once again called me to step out on the waves on a journey to be loved, to find peace--with myself. But it did.
I didn't know any Hebrew or Arabic going into the trip. I found it wonderfully poetic that the first two words we learned on this peacemaking endeavor were words that mean peace: Shalom in Hebrew and Salaam in Arabic. These words are used as common greetings and can be heard throughout the bustling streets of Jerusalem.Peace. Shalom. Salaam.My understanding of shalom from Sunday School days reminds me that peace doesn't just mean the absence of violence, but something more. Shalom implies wholeness, completeness, a life, a heart, a world undivided.Integrity.And this peacemaking starts at home. Yes, in our homes--with our spouses, roommates, children--but even closer to home. In our own hearts.Our leader and fellow peacemaker, Jon Huckins, explained it like this in his recent reflections on the trip:
As our participants see and experience the pain and injustice that exists in this region, there is a natural pull to pick sides and get really pissed off. The opposite extreme is to see the conflict, be so overwhelmed with its complexities and want to simply walk away. Neither option is the work of peacemaking and my (and my partner, Jer Swigart) work is to walk with people towards a more constructive place in their formation, which usually means confronting the evil within ourselves before confronting the evil around us. It is ridiculously difficult!!
Before I confront the evil around me, I must reconcile the evil, the selfishness and greed and obsession with self- and image-preservation in my own heart. I must first be reconciled by the Prince of Peace.When asked how he can love and live as he does, one of the peacemakers we met replied that he can reconcile others because he is reconciled. The growth started within and the fruit is abundant in his life, in his family, in his community. (I'll share more of his story later.)So before I start sharing these stories of people carrying out lives of unwarranted compassion, I wanted to reiterate the need to seek Him first, to seek to be reconciled in our own hearts and souls.And this being reconciled is not a one time thing. The call is to grow into this new, reconciled self. Not as a means to our own happy ends, but as a peacemaking practice. As a spiritual discipline. As the first step in bringing shalom, salaam, wholeness to the world.If you, too, want to go deeper in your journey of cultivating inner peace, here are a few suggestions that I've either found helpful in the past or am committed to trying as I move forward. Feel free to share your thoughts, suggestions, and peacemaking practices. Thanks!Some inner peace cultivating practices:
- Practice the Prayer of Examen: Developed by St. Ignatius, the prayer of examen is a daily ritual of checking in with God, focusing your eyes and your heart on where He is moving, and praying into the areas of your life where you struggle to put Him first. Find out more here.
- Read the Sermon on the Mount every day for 1 month and reflect on the call of Jesus. (I've never done this, but I'm starting now. We'll see where it takes me!)
- Spend time in nature or another favorite place with God. This has long been my favorite inner peace making activity. Just sitting and listening to the waves of the ocean or breathing in the fresh forest air in a grove of pine trees is where I am most strongly reminded of God's overpowering, irrational love for me with all of my faults and weaknesses.
- Pray for the enemies within you. I’ve always thought of myself as a peaceful person because of my excellent conflict avoidance and appeaser skills, but I have been struck by the idea that being a peacemaker actually requires us to move TOWARD conflict. I've been specifically challenged to look at the areas of conflict within myself that I’ve been avoiding and God may be calling me to enter into. If I can’t even face my own conflict and pain, how can I expect to bring peace to other people? This idea paired up nicely with a book I’m reading called When the Heart Waits by Sue Monk Kidd. She wrote, “to be spiritual is to confront our pain, rather than make an enemy out of it. When Jesus told us to love our enemies, I suspect that he was talking about our inner enemies too. He knew that love was the only means by which to transform them.” Our own inner work of restoration and reconciliation can parallel our actions as peacemakers in our spheres of influence.
Lives of Unwarranted Compassion
Years ago I had an experience with the God of Compassion that changed the course of my life. In the aftermath of anger, depression, and outrage at injustice in the world, He wooed me with His surprising, redemptive, and mischievous face. With what I called fits of unwarranted compassion. 
It was an incredible way to learn about a people and a conflict and cultures that I've never really known much about. I learned from and was welcomed by Israelis and Palestinians, Muslims, Jews, and Christians. I was encouraged and convicted by the creative seeds of hope and peace they plant daily in the most contentious soil in the world."The moment you open your heart to another, you are more powerful than your enemy--even if they have a gun."
(Check out an interview with Daoud on Relevant Magazine here if you want to get a sneak peak of the incredible stories and sacrifices these peacemakers live.)
Writing, God, Depression, and Surrender
So one of the reasons, the main reason, I haven't been blogging is because I've been dealing with depression. Not just a few bad days, but full-blown-take-over-my-mind-and-my-life-depression. If you haven't done so, please take a moment to review another Allie's informative and--I think--pretty spot on description of depression here.
Ok, done with that? It's important.
The depression started with burnout at my last job. Then moved to sadness sadness sadness when I moved to Guatemala. Instead of excitement, I felt an overwhelming sense of grief--missing friends, missing community, missing meaningful work.Then came the numbness. For some unexplainable reason I was no longer excited to speak Spanish or go salsa dancing or tutor women in reading and math--things I used to love and be so passionate about. I didn't know why I'd rather stay inside and watch Netflix than explore the city and make new friends. I was living the dream, but it felt like I was frozen in a nightmare.I thought I was just taking a long time to bounce back from the burnout. I thought I had a really bad case of homesickness. I thought I wasn't adjusting well, was bad at making friends, was lazy. I thought I was a failure. I didn't realize it was also my brain chemistry working really hard against me. I was really sad for a really long time and nothing seemed to make it better. Since I've been back, the intensity of the sadness has lessened. I like being around my friends here. I like the beach. I'm not lonely anymore. But I still don't feel like me. Like Allie described, I feel pretty numb (which I must admit feels better than sad). Or, more accurately, I don't really feel anything. Just a lethargy, a void. But the worst worst worst part of depression for me, an introvert, a writer, a person who has Intellection in her Top Five Strengths, isn't the emotional numbness, but the mental numbness. A fog. A grogginess. Like someone keeps dosing my morning coffee with Nyquil.It's made life pretty sucky and unexciting. And it's made writing almost unbearable. It's like this. Let's say writing were a physical activity, not just a mental one. For instance, running. Writing a blog post or a grant proposal would be like running a mile. I used to do it no problem. I was born to run. I lived for the runner's high. I didn't mind the shin splints or the side aches. The feeling of wind in and out of my lungs as I rounded the track was unmatched. Then I got sick. I'm not sure if it was overtraining or not cross training enough or a nasty virus just happened to pick me. I don't know if I'll ever know what or why this happened. But suddenly it just felt wrong. Like trying to run a mile with the flu. You can probably do it, but it feels crappy and your legs don't work quite right and you want to just lay on the sidelines and puke or fall asleep instead. Unlike the flu, with depression you can look alright from the outside. Everyone kept telling me to keep running. You're so talented, they said. You can still do it. You just have to keep training and it will work out. I got to the point where I had to decide that I just couldn't do it anymore. I knew for me, I couldn't. I can't. I feel sick. I feel like my brain has been taken over by poison or a sedative, like I'm running through molasses. It's not fun anymore. I've spent the time since I got back to the States trying to figure this out. I took a hard break from writing--hence my blogging absence. I'm seeing doctors. I'm trying different prescriptions, different therapies. I'm trying to get this under control. I have an incredible community who cares for me and supports me and has been with me every step of the way. A group of amazing women who say, "we don't understand this sickness, but we love you anyways and we're here to help." They show me grace, grace, grace.The grace I've had so much trouble extending to myself.I've been terrified that this is the new me. That I'll be stuck in this brain dead land forever. That I'll never be passionate about anything again. That I may never write again. I've made a lot of bad choices. Trying to feel again or numb again or distract from the numbness .I've been stuck in fear. Stuck living for the hell of it. I've no longer felt like life matters, so I've lived like it doesn't matter.I keep praying, God, if you heal me of depression. If you give me my life back, my brain back, my joy back, I will praise your name you to all the ends of the earth. I will glorify you. I will use my life and my brain and my joy to serve you. See how much good I did while working at Plant With Purpose. Serving at church. Writing on this blog. I'll do that again if you heal me.To which he replied (and continues to reply), "Serve me now."I reel. How is this the best option? How is this good for anyone? Why wouldn't He want to heal me of depression? To give me life and life to the full? To which he doesn't answer. He just repeats. "Serve me now."
He says, "I love you whether or not you have depression. Whether or not you write. Whether or not you make wise choices. Whether or not you feel like you're in control.It's your turn to trust me whether you are depressed or not. Whether you write or not. Whether you make wise choices or not. Whether or not you feel like you're in control.Because you're never really in control, no matter how you feel about it. I am. And I love you. And I am good."My pastor gave a sermon awhile back on wrestling with God. On the importance of honesty. He said that's it's ok to be honest with God about our disappointments. And the truth is. I'm disappointed. I'm disappointed that living in Guatemala felt so lonely. I'm disappointed that I haven't yet found a job back here in the States. I'm disappointed that it's all been so hard. I'm disappointed that depression stole what should have been the best year, the best adventure, of my life. I'm disappointed in myself and in my circumstances. It's okay to be honest with God. He knows my disappointment. He can take it. He can take my pain and my anger. He hurts with me.In the sermon, my pastor emphasized that RADICAL TRUST IN GOD ALWAYS PAYS OFF. Not that our prayers will always be answered. Not that my depression will be cured and this mental fog will be lifted.But God is good and He loves us. He's the only one worth trusting in.So ever so reluctantly, I'm shifting my focus. I'm switching my prayers. I'm surrendering to the God of Love that I've failed to trust in for so long.
Today I will say, I surrender to you, O God. I will trust in your Love. I will hope in your Love. Even if my depression never lifts. Even if I never get my brain or my life or my identity as a thinker/writer/processer back. I am Yours. Amen. So I don't I know if I'll keep up blogging. I don't know if writing will get easier. If depression will become a dark spot in my past or something I'll deal with forever. I just wanted to share this with you. To explain a little about where I've been and where I hope to be going. Thanks for listening.