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Posted on Mar 18, 2013 in faith shifts, healing, spiritual formation | 28 comments

10 ideas to re-engage with the Bible if we’ve become allergic to it.

i kind of miss the bibleshifting faith takes its toll in so many ways–changed friendships & relationships, loss of connection & belonging in churches, and disorientation on how we connect with God.  so many of the old ways stop working.  what used to fill us up now sometimes repels us. what used to feel so comfortable now feels so foreign. i can’t tell you the number of times over the past chunk of years i have tried to grind down on old spiritual practices that used to bring me so much life only to come up empty.

one of the things i am sad about for a lot of us is how our relationship with the Bible, a source of so much life & hope & goodness, has often become twisted & tainted.  for all kinds of reasons, some of us have become a little (or a lot!) allergic to it.  sometimes when we read it, we have a weird filter that all of the words go through that blocks us from stirring our souls & inspiring love and change.  it can cause us to cringe, harden our hearts, to feel cynicism instead of hope.

i often tell people who find themselves extra-allergic to the Bible to take a break from even trying.  there are all kinds of ways to engage with God other than the Bible and a healthy separation (just like when a marriage is in trouble) can often provide a space for healing. but what happens when we kind of want to try again?  when we feel a stirring to re-engage with the Bible in a way that won’t kick our allergies into full-gear?

this post isn’t for everyone; some of you are feeling great about the Bible and others of you have it safely on the shelf right now to give yourself more time to heal.  this post is for those of you who are feeling like maybe it’s time to give something a try again, who miss the beauty & challenge of it, who are wanting to re-connect with it in new ways.

these are some thoughts off the top of my head that have helped me over time.   i’d love for you to add yours to the list because the more ideas we have to choose from , the better.

10 ideas to re-engage with the Bible after we’ve become allergic: 

1. take one passage we really like or one that comes to mind or gives us hope and meditate on just it for a while.  i do this a lot and i remember how much i like certain verses, how much comfort they bring, and that i don’t have to study them, exegete them, put them in their proper context, know the greek word for it for it to do something in my heart.

2. take that same passage and look it up in different versions (i like biblegateway for that).

3. practice lectio divina, which is one of my favorite practices because it takes out “studying” the bible and replaces it with intersecting emotionally with the passage.  read it from different angles.  notice words.  notice feelings. notice soul stirrings.  some passages that i like are:  psalm 23, psalm 40:1-3, isaiah 43:1-4, isaiah 61:1-4, matthew 5:3-10, colossians 3:12-15, ephesians 3:14-19, luke 15:11-32.

4. read a passage and then re-write it in our own words. there are a lot of different versions by different people, as well as different translations.  it’s ok to let yourself be inspired too, and see how it sounds.  another thought is to collage it or draw it with images or pictures.

5. read a parable and ask ourselves these questions: 

what is a different title for it?
what feelings does it stir up?
what does it tell us about the tendency of human beings?
what does it tell us about our own hearts and lives?

6. after reading something, take some time and journal about it, reflecting on some questions like this:

this passage stirs up these feelings (comfortable, easier ones & harder, more uncomfortable or annoying ones)
originally, i was taught that this passage for sure meant…
i wonder if it could actually mean…
today, it makes me consider…

6. after reading the passage, ask “how does this point me toward loving God more?  loving others more?  loving myself more?”  

7. i know this is a stretch and it can definitely go either way, but for some it might help to imagine reading it for the very first time, before you knew anything or heard anything from a pastor or studied it inductively or…

8. read a psalm and then write one yourself.  this are some prompts that can guide us:

God, i am feeling really…
right now,  life is…
i long for you to…
i am wondering why..
i am trying to remember that…
i am thankful for…

9. read the passage as if it were being read to a community of people, not just you.  rachel held evans had a good post last week that addresses this & we talk about this a lot at the refuge, how the scriptures are communal.  what does it call us to together?

10. try just the red letters, the words of Jesus (remembering that he says some pretty tricky and confusing stuff in there, too).

a few words of warning:

let go of expecting God to show up in the ways we were used to. some of the spiritual high i used to experience is truly gone.  it’s not that i don’t hear from God or feel my heart stir or feel conviction in a powerful way, but i have come to respect that some of the “high” i used to experience is nowhere to be found.  it’s been so helpful (and tricky) to accept that that season is gone for me and had it’s place in my spiritual story.  now the question is how can i feel connected to God in new ways.

find the good.  any little stirring, any little bit of hope, any open door is a lovely gift.

be gentle with yourself (and maybe God, too).  be careful of leaning into shame or “i-shouldn’t-feel-this-way-something’s-wrong-with-me” and trust that healing this allergy takes a long time.

remember it’s okay to find what worksat least for now.

i’d love to hear your thoughts on this and what you’d add to this list!

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Posted on Mar 6, 2013 in faith shifts, the carnival in my head | 20 comments

faith shift: hope for spiritual refugees, church burnouts, and freedom seekers

we're not crazy

really exciting news around here that i’m happy to finally get to share. yesterday i received the final signed contract to write faith shift: hope for spiritual refugees, church burnouts, and freedom seekers (that’s the working title) for convergent books, a new random house imprint!  

it’s a long crazy story how it all came about but they approached me last year right as i started the rebuilding after deconstructing series with some hopes for a project together. i felt honored at the prospect and a little scared, too, because i have had some weird publishing experiences and am in the thick of things with the crazy work of the refuge & all these kids.

yet, after that series ended & i saw what it stirred up, i knew i wanted to make it into something more comprehensive & accessible, with real and raw stories and tangible possibilities to help people navigate through these crazy shifts. so many of us have unraveled but have become very lost when it comes to resurrecting something new.

in the fall the editors and i began working through what that might look like and this book is what emerged.

it makes me smile whenever i think of it.

it’s for spiritual refugees, who have somehow shifted in what we believe and lost our certainty, our churches, and all kinds of other things.

it’s for church burn-outs, who are done with the same old same old but don’t know how to intersect with God & faith & community in a new way because there are so few options or guides.

and it’s for freedom-seekers, those who are done feeling stuck & bound & caged by the system and long for a free-er and more active faith.

i am all three of these.

and i am always in need of hope & ways to keep moving toward love.

faith shifts are hard, but so much new life can come out of them.

i’ve got a wild amount of work to do in the upcoming months but am looking forward to digging in. i feel honored to get a chance to work with some amazing editors who really believe in this book. i’m also glad for the opportunity to tell some of your stories, if you are willing to share them more intentionally.  a lot of us here are finding our own messy way and i’d love to have some of your feelings & experiences help those who come behind us feel less crazy & less alone.

yesterday, i had a new post up at sheloves magazine, part of the monthly down we go column i write the first tuesday of every month. it’s called not enough and too much, and the timing is definitely ironic. you can go over there and read it, but trust me, i’ve got both of these feelings in full swing right now related to this project! oh,i will need God’s help with crazy brain. my hope & prayer is that i can just be me, share what i & my friends keep learning through these scary & beautiful shifts, and have a little fun in the process.

thank you for reading here, for being part of this wild & unexpected journey the past 5 years, for all your love & support.  i am so grateful for this space to keep hacking through this hard stuff together in search of beauty and hope and freedom.  along with the refuge, this blog community has been one of my greatest joys and both have helped resurrect my faith in all kinds of lovely & surprising ways.

peace and hope, kathy

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ps: i wanted to add, too, that we pushed the date back one week for our next walking wounded: hope for those hurt by church online class so it’s starting this upcoming monday march 11th. we don’t have another one scheduled for the rest of 2013 so if you have been thinking about it but haven’t been quite sure, we hope you will join us for this round. 4 weeks, at your own pace, no need to be online at a specific time. i know it’s a brave step, but our experience in past groups is that it has been a really helpful way to get traction and healing when we’re feeling stuck, lost, and wondering which end is up when it comes to church and/or faith. you’re not crazy (well, maybe sort of), but you’re definitely not alone.

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Posted on Feb 26, 2013 in faith shifts, healing | 18 comments

and…8 ways you can support friends or family experiencing a spiritual shift

and the greatest of these is love

yesterday i shared some things to remember when we are in the midst of a spiritual shift. one thing i want to remind everyone–no matter how hard we try, we can’t make certain people fully understand. at the same time, i think sometimes people are just at a total loss on how to respond. our language, our anger, our shifts freak them out and they just aren’t sure what to do.  i thought it might be helpful to revisit some ideas for friends, family, communities, and yes, churches, who are wondering what do we do when people we know are spiritually spinning?

here are a few helpful hints:

1. love us, not the words you are used to hearing us say.  often, when we stop expressing things in the exact same words people feel comfortable with we get judged, rejected, abandoned, slowly cast off.   the most healing and beautiful thing others can do to those in the midst of spiritual vertigo is love us no matter what, stand by us no matter what, be willing to see beyond words & activities & your comfort zone, and still love us as people even if we disagree.

2. simply listen & don’t to try fix, scripturize, or give advice.  it’s so hard to sit with people in their pain. we have a knee-jerk reaction to try to make it better and i always feel it, too. ” what if they just…” is often running through our brains. it’s so important to learn how to just listen, acknowledge the feelings, and not offer advice or solutions.  it’s also not a half bad idea to read through this list of helpful & not so helpful things to say & do when people are deconstructing, too.

3. recognize that there are lots of ways to live out our faith in Jesus, community, church.  many people are finding “church” in ways that look nothing like sunday at 10 am with music & a sermon.  i do believe that community is essential but there are lots of forms for it.  affirm ways we are growing, learning, serving even if it looks different and honor that God is big and can work in wild and crazy ways that look “wrong” or “not spiritual enough” just because they don’t fit into our limited paradigm of church. remember, God is big.

4. respect our anger.  as much as it feels like it is, anger is not a sin. it is a helpful propelling emotion if used properly and an important part of the grieving process. the sure way to get stuck in bitterness is to not have safe places to feel angry and keep moving through it toward letting go and acceptance. the ways we hurry past anger can really jack us up in the end and prevent us from finding more solid ground.

5. don’t hold us to everything we say & do.  we are in process. i sometimes rant, i sometimes rave. i still sound bitter & angry one day, forgiving & hopeful the next. i have been all over the place. just know some things i said a year ago i don’t necessarily hold to today and some things i am saying now i probably will be embarrassed about in a year.  allow us to change our minds and see things differently at different times. let us give up on going to church services or try some what-may-seem-weird ones.

6. trust the long (and i do mean long haul) process (and God). it takes a lot of time to move to new places in our faith. we can have doubts and still believe. we can be confused and still serve. we can be sad and still love. we can be angry and not sin.  don’t use your own pre-determined measure of “movement” and assume we’re missing the mark. there’s a lot more going on underneath in our hearts, our minds, our souls than meets the eye and it takes years, not months, to unravel what needs unraveling. God is always at work, whether it’s in our language or not. trust that beautiful truth.

7. ask what might be helpful.  i ask people a lot if there are things that do help during hard seasons.  sometimes people can articulate them, sometimes they can’t, but i’ve gained a lot of great insight into small ways that my friends feel loved and supported. it’s so much better to ask than assume.

8. consider creating safer places in your existing communities.  i know what it feels like to be a notorious sinner in a group of put-together-do-the-right-thing-and-then-you-won’t-suffer-christians. it feels terrible.  in some ways, spiritual questions can put us in the same precarious situation as lepers and adulteresses; we become outcasts.  it would be so beautiful if we could learn to live together somehow–the certain & the uncertain–and listen, respect, and trust each other, our differences. this takes some heavy duty relationship skill, putting people’s hearts–not belief-expressed-the-way-we-feel-comfortable-with–as the highest priority. but it is so possible with brave people willing to put people above programs and relationship over doctrine.

i know some of you might be thinking “how can i send this in an anonymous email to certain people?” (i can do it on your behalf if it would help, ha ha).

oh, change is so hard, for both sides. i totally respect how weird it must feel for some of my old friends, to hear me talk the way i do now. we will need to find new ways to love and honor each other through these shifts so there can be less hurt, less damage, less isolation in the process. a whole lot of grace & unconditional love seem to be the most important ingredients.

these are 8 off the top of my head, and i am quite sure there are many others.  what would you add?

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Posted on Feb 25, 2013 in faith shifts, healing | 24 comments

8 things that help us survive spiritual vertigo

spiritual vertigo working definition

i originally wrote a post about surviving spiritual vertigo in 2008.  it was for those of us who were in the midst of some kind of crazy spiritual shift and were feeling disoriented & confused.  little did i know five years ago how many of us were out here, spinning and whirling without a lot of help for the process.

this week i was in a couple of conversations that reminded me how hard it is: 1) to make these spiritual shifts ourselves. and 2) for family & friends who are worried for our souls and don’t know quite what to do with us.

that post was extra-long & murky, so i thought i’d revisit it, make some changes, and split it up to be a little more helpful for both groups. today is part 1 – survival strategies for those of us who are experiencing some form of spiritual vertigo.  tomorrow i’ll post part 2 – tips for family & friends who don’t know quite what to do with us!

here are 8 survival strategies that might help when we enter into the land of questions, change & scary spiritual shifts.

1. get used to blank stares & nervous twitches. some people don’t know quite what to say or how to react when we start sharing things we are thinking or strongly disagree with, or are more raw and unedited than they are used to.  it can make us feel misunderstood, but remember, many of those around us just can’t get their head around why we aren’t playing the same anymore. we can’t take care of them, but have to prepare ourselves to be misunderstood.

2. let ourselves grieve.  spiritual shifting includes a tremendous amount of loss–relationships, comfort, ministry roles, family security, and all kinds of other things we once held dear.  i way underestimated how difficult it would be to leave  much of what i had known. grief includes a wide range of emotions and springs up in the weirdest of situations. i have gone to events or parties thinking it would be no big deal for me and ended up bawling in the car all the way home.  interactions with people, situations, experiences still tap into how much i’ve lost. part of healing is to let it be what it is and not pop a cork in it.

3. focus on love (and relationships). God’s love supersedes language and systems and cultures. Love binds us all together somehow. most of us aren’t throwing out God’s love on this journey of spiritual transformation. in fact, it’s just the opposite. we are trying to move closer toward it, to receiving it, to giving it, to knowing it in the deep crevices of our heart in ways church sometimes didn’t teach us. at the core of all the shifting seems to be a sincere draw toward how to live Jesus’ love out truthfully in the here and now. regardless of how far off the map we feel we’ve gone, if we’re pursuing Love & people, we can’t go too wrong.

4. strain to hear God’s voice in new ways. the reason i use the word “strain” is that in the midst of the din, confusion, fear, i found that the ways i used to hear God didn’t work anymore. i felt dead to things that once made me feel alive. part of the journey has been learning to notice Jesus’ heart for me, the world, in ways that i previously hadn’t relied on. songs, people, experiences, movies, bizarre interactions, random scriptures, all kinds of things started to get my attention and i began taking greater notice of ways God was indeed reminding me of what was true, noble, pure, good, trustworthy. it now comes in new & unfamiliar ways.

5. find safe people (and hopefully funny ones) to journey with.  some how, some way, find some safe people to process this with. this has saved my life, my faith.  my friends who listen, make me laugh, let me go off the deep end and still love me, who don’t care about my questions, my doubts, my radical ideas, but care about me.  online, face-to-face, in a group, on the phone, whatever you need, it’s worth seeking and there really is an underground railroad out here. we all have to intersect with friends & family who might not feel safe, but i have found that if we have enough good ones to fall back on, it makes the toxic ones less damaging.

6. practice soul care. this is what most of us aren’t so great at and can be the thing that saves our lives–and our faith–in the end. tenderness & care & being kind to ourselves is extra-needed during this season of spiritual upheaval and can help settle our swirling heads & hearts.  if you aren’t sure what might help, consider these ideas.

7. trust the long (and i do mean long) haul process.  it can often feel like the darkness is endless. some of what we used to hold dearly to is indeed gone forever and that is so scary, but over time (as in years, not months), we will find that what’s left is enough and that we are actually more secure and stable than we might expect. light begins to creep in and will get brighter and brighter over time.

8. consider pursuing some of your dreams, no matter how big or small.  so many of us have wanted to be with the poor, write, create, start something, try something. love our neighbors more intentionally, go abroad. consider just going for it, quit waiting for the perfect time. give it a try. experiment. risk. your passion is holy and slowly & surely brings forth new life.

oh, there are many others that could make this list, but i think some of these are central. what else would you add?

tomorrow: and…8 ways you can support friends or family experiencing a spiritual shift

* * * * *

ps: just a reminder, too, about our next walking wounded: hope for those hurt by the church online class, starting monday march 4th. it’s a great way to gain some traction on healing and movement after a church or faith shift.  4 weeks, in a really simple & safe format.  if you or someone you know could use some help in this process, would love for you to join us.

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Posted on Aug 6, 2012 in church stuff, faith shifts, healing | 29 comments

cynicism, skepticism, optimism, realism (and the power of hope)

blog skepticism cyncism realismit’s good to be back! those 5 weeks flew by!  i missed you here, but it’s been so great to be off-line for a while and enjoy summer with my kids (i’ve got 5 of them home right now so it’s nuts around here but really fun) & a little lighter refuge schedule. so much happened in this past month that i can never catch up on, and i won’t even try, but i thought i’d start with a post that’s been swirling around in my head for a while now and i finally had a chance to write.  

* * * * *

years ago the last word someone would have associated with me was “cynicism.” “hopeful, positive, and optimistic” were much better descriptors.  however, the truth is that cynicism was building for years after observing a pattern in churches we were part of that continually ignored pain, suffering & honesty.  i kept it at bay because i always figured out a way to live out what i believed in some small pocket of love.  and for a long time that was enough for me.  it wasn’t until my big-church-blow-up in 2006 that the cynicism-about-the-church dial moved to full tilt.

the dictionary definition of cynical “bitterly or sneerlingly distrustful, contemptuous, or pessimistic.” i think cynicism has its place.  honestly, if i wouldn’t have allowed myself to feel the range of how sad, angry, and disgusted i was with the “church” i don’t think i’d still be here.  faking optimism wasn’t an option.  playing nice would have been false.  trying to skip over painful feelings would have ruined me in the end.

but like so many other things, it’s easy to get stuck on either end of any continuum.  we are often more comfortable in pendulum swinging because it keeps things more clear & contained & predictable.  however, black or white, good or bad, hot or cold thinking is always very limiting.  if we think cynicism or cheery optimism are our only choices, we’re set up for either misery or constant disappointment when it comes to all-things-church.

skepticism is a few degrees to the middle of cynicism.  many of us who are rebuilding after deconstructing need to approach issues of church and faith in a more discerning way.  we can’t get wowed-in, sucked-in, charmed-in, convinced-in, shamed-in anymore.  we see things through more honest lenses.  however, when we are always skeptical, we tend to notice the worst first instead of the best.  we’re constantly being triggered and are wary of trusting anything and anyone. although i believe skepticism is more productive than cynicism, i still think it’s limiting and chokes off life. it creates a hardness of heart, a protection that prevents us from experiencing not only the bad but also the good.

but i definitely can’t use the word “optimism” when it comes to church.  i used to have a lot of it, but it was the unrealistic, naive kind that eroded over time.  i believe we are in worse shape than we even know, that many of the systems we’ve created and continue to perpetuate are never going to allow us to experience the kind of freedom & healing & equality & beauty that Jesus intended when he called his followers to be like him.

i have decided that a much healthier place for me to land is what i call “hopeful realism”, accepting things for what they are in a more realistic way while being open to possibilities.  

it doesn’t mean cynicism, skepticism, or optimism aren’t sprinkled in there, but realism helps me to see things from a more honest perspective, to accept what i can’t change and center on what i can (yes, i love that serenity prayer).  realism helps me not have a false hope that tomorrow all my dear & wise & amazing sisters will get a phone call offering them awesome ministry positions with equal pay and power that they deserve.  it helps me remember that my marginalized friends, while slowly making inroads, are far from being fully included just as they are.  realism helps me say with confidence that there are enough resources & time & heart & help to meet the overwhelming needs in each and every community & city & town & neighborhood, but these resources are not distributed properly because so many would rather go to church than be the church.  it helps me not feel totally crazy when i see what people are willing to be inconvenienced for (like standing in line for hours to buy a chicken sandwich) in the name of Jesus while countless people in their cities are in desperate need of food & shelter & love.

even though these realities can be so discouraging, they also remind me how desperate we are for change & Hope. 

cynicism is absent of hope.  skepticism deeply limits it.  naive optimism creates false hope.  but realism opens up the doors for the kind of deep hope i think God brings:  that there’s far more going on than meets the eye, that the ways of the world (and often “the church”) are not the ways of Jesus, and that miracles, no matter how big or small, are always possible. 

i don’t want to be a cynic, although it had its place.  i don’t want to spend all my days being so skeptical that i miss out on the good. and i don’t want to be a naive, cheery optimist who thinks things are much better than they really are.

rather, i want to live in a place that honors reality, embraces a more honest theology, and accepts the world’s crazy paradoxes, with all its good & bad, dark & light, ugliness & beauty.

i want to remain open and in awe of  the weird & wild & mysterious ways God moves, heals, transforms, redeems, restores even when i can’t see or understand it.  

and i want to be willing to be part of the change, no matter how hard or slow some of those changes might be.

how about you?  where do you fall on the cynic-skeptic-optimist-realist grid these days?

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ps: i had already written this piece when i saw the picture & quote below on facebook, but i thought it was appropriate (posted by the God article).

 

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