Our Weekly Devotionals are created by our staff and members to inspire reflections and conversation.
Trauma vs. Resilience
I saw a post on social media that said,
“To be very, VERY reductionistic: Hard times + support = resilience; Hard times + no support = Trauma”.
This resonates precisely because it is reductionist, a simple way to understand a complicated fact of life. I know plenty of people who have had support while experiencing hard times and either still struggle to establish resilience or never achieve it and are left with just trauma. Nothing in life is guaranteed, but that should not stop us from offering support to those in need, since it can help people move forward.
Waiting and Working
Advent is always busy. Of course it is. We have our usual jobs and responsibilities but we also must find time to shop, decorate, and bake. Maybe even travel. We have added bills and year-end planning. There are parties and activities. And we do all of this in cold weather and limited sunlight. When our bodies really just want to rest.
I worked on Thanksgiving, traveling back and forth between three hospitals. Three surgeries, several other procedures, many consults, texts and phone calls. Luckily, I was able to join my extended family for our traditional crisp morning walk, leaving before the cinnamon rolls and coffee. It was a very busy day and by the time I got back home the leftovers were being put away, the dishes washed. My plate of food was still warm and delicious.
The Harvest
Last fall, I spent several days walking through Rioja, Spain, where vineyards and olive trees lined my path. The grapes were deep purple and bountiful. The trees were heavy with ripening olives. The landscape was stunning. As I walked along in a quiet breeze, under a warm sun and a clear sky, I felt a sense of abundance--that we have everything we need.
Breaking News
If I had a nickel for every “Breaking News” alert I’ve gotten in the last week from my NYT online subscription, I’d take us all out for a pricey coffee and a donut. I mean, we get it; it’s all breaking news. What we know is that the news is only going to get more absurd and more difficult in the coming months and years. There will be plenty of heart-breaking news alerts, and we should think about how we’re going to prepare for what comes next. In 1950 Bette Davis parlance, “Fasten your seatbelts, it’s going to be a bumpy night.”
Remember Why You Came Here
There is so much grief and terror and outright evil happening, with the promise of more to come, that it’s easy to feel inadequate right now. I’ve heard, over and over this week, friends and colleagues saying, “I don’t know what to do” as they express their shock and struggle to even function. Interestingly, the ones saying this in my world have all been white women like me.
I decided to take my cues from my black women friends. Of all demographics, to me this group seems the most oppressed in our white supremacist patriarchy, and they can and will bear the brunt of racist and sexist cruelty in ways I never will.
My Unsung Hero
The NPR podcast Hidden Brain has a short segment called “My Unsung Hero”. It features people telling the stories of kindnesses that they received and their gratitude for the compassionate acts that made all the difference for them. I’m often touched by these stories, which highlight how a small moment of generosity or thoughtfulness that costs a person so little can be so meaningful to those who receive it. It’s inspired me to think back on who in my life I could consider an unsung hero, and I’ve reflected on the teachers and mentors who shaped me, and the way their support helped me see what was possible for myself.
This Time and Place
I’ve learned my limits. A few articles from The Atlantic or NYT or Washington Post. No television news. Social media screen time is set at ten minutes per day. I quickly scan email subject lines. More than that isn’t helpful or healthy for me. I know what is at stake and don’t need continuous unrelenting reminders of how bad things already are and could be in the future.
In the end we all want the same things.
Every Little Bit Matters
The theme “All Creatures Great and Small” is an interesting one for a Stewardship Campaign. Most often, when we are raising funds for a cause, we aim for a big bang. We color the rising red line in the poster-sized thermometer to show just how much money we’ve raised. In schools, we hype kids up by promising pizza parties and extra recess for classes who raised the most money. We urge people to give more, help more, and dig into those pockets just one more time! Who doesn’t want to be able to save the world, simultaneously while leaping tall buildings in a single bound?! We live by the phrase, “Go Big or Go Home.”
Choosing
I’m writing this devotional from the Providence, Rhode Island Airport. I am a nervous traveler and need to arrive at the airport early, so we’re killing some time. We’re in Rhode Island because when we started dating, we decided to see all 50 state capitol buildings. And it doesn’t count unless we can go into the building. We went to Providence and Hartford, Connecticut, which were capitols 38 and 39, respectively. I’m so thankful we’ve made this choice. I have no idea how other people decide where to travel, but for us, we frequently build our vacations around visiting a capitol. It’s worked out splendidly. America is big and diverse. We need a way to help us choose a destination.
The Art of Mending
I’ve been fascinated for years by photos of ceramic cups and bowls that have been mended with thin strands of gold, an ancient art form from Japan, called Kintsugi.
The philosophy that has grown within this art form brings a deep meaning to each piece. Not just decorative work, and not just repair work. It is representative of the idea that brokenness is inevitable – of things, of us. But that with reflection, and deliberate action, we can return to wholeness. Wholeness filled with refinement, beauty and with our broken places still visible – bringing even greater beauty to who we are. Damage is part of a history, not an ending; renewed wholeness celebrates resilience, and transformation.
Nourishment for the Soul …
Most mornings, I walk to the trails near my house shortly after the sun comes up. It’s very quiet at that time of day. A few runners and an occasional biker share the path with us early walkers. Usually, I’ll spot a deer or two. Almost always I’ll see a heron. They stand so still and quietly, just waiting. Even though they are always around, I’ve never seen one catch a fish. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone catch a fish in the ponds along the trail.
How Can I Keep From Singing
I’ve joked with Alex, Peace music leader, my friend and music partner, that he has to promise to tell me when I stop sounding “right.” I’m only half joking, since I hope sincerely that he’ll have the hard conversation with me when my voice begins to wobble, or the notes at the top end of my range (probably about an octave lower than when I started gutting out pop music a couple of decades ago) turn weak and forced. That was far off in the future when we first started playing music together. I can remember growing up in church, singing in all kinds of choirs, and hearing what happens to many, not all, voices as they age. I gotta say, it scares me. After all, singing is a big part of who I am.
Long Term
I always want everyone to win. Not just the favorite. Not just the underdog. Everyone. Have fun, compete, get your best time, make friends! It drove everyone in my house nuts during the Olympics. When someone came out of nowhere. Or set an Olympic record. Or learned a new way to pole vault or throw a heavy ball or swim 1500 meters and changed their sport forever.
It’s the same with states or cities or countries. It’s all meaningless really. We are all on the same big blue marble.
Seen, Heard, Uplifted
“People will forget what you said. People will forget what you did. But people will never forget how you made them feel” – Maya Angelou
It was 7:00 AM on a Friday and the kids, hoodies up and earbuds in, ambled off the buses and shuffled through the doors of Antioch Middle School. As their eyes adjusted to the harsh fluorescent lights of the school, they noticed a bunch of their former teachers from elementary schools lining the hallway. Many of the students gasped. Some shrieked and jumped up and down clapping excitedly. Some yelled, “That’s my teacher!” Some shyly walked by and gave a timid smile and wave. Some ran up and hugged. It warmed my teacher heart to see many of my former students so happy to see their teachers. Talk about feeling like a Kardashian for a minute! Teachers are the ultimate celebrities!
Growth
Today I wrapped up the final day of my training as a psychologist. It’s been just over eight years since I started this journey, and this whole week has felt surreal. As I had my last sessions with patients that I’ve worked with over the past year, cleared out my office, and met with a clinical supervisor for the last time as a trainee, it seemed both mundane and momentous. My next step is to work as independently licensed psychologist, and perhaps the reality will sink in as I begin that work.
Beavers and Bears
I’m currently reading two books for two separate projects. The first is Ben Goldfarb’s Eager: The Surprising Secret Life of Beavers and Why They Matter for an upcoming blog post and the second is Gloria Dickie’s Eight Bears: Mythic Past and Imperiled Future for the two books I plan on writing once I’ve defended my dissertation. We like defining all things in relation and distinction from ourselves, making it clear that we are unique among nature. Through Carl Linnaeus’s taxonomy, we know more about the genetic relations between different species, beavers are rodents and are closest to kangaroo rats and pocket gophers in relation, while bears are carnivores and are a part of the same superfamily as dogs. The Field Museum displays this well in their mammalian gallery with individual cases displaying each of these superfamilies.
Sing!
When I got COVID, followed by years of Long COVID, one of the things I lost was my ability to sing like I had before. I didn’t realize what a core piece of my identity “singer” was until it was gone. So, last year, with the intention of reclaiming this part of myself, I joined the Kansas City Women’s Chorus.
It was a struggle. Fatigue had stolen my energy, so I could not stand or even sit upright for all of the rehearsals. My lung capacity was not the same, so singing itself was a strenuous physical activity. My vocal chords were not the same, so my tone and range felt foreign to me in my own body. My brain was not the same, so I had to learn a whole new way to memorize music.
Olympics: Ultimate Gestalt Experience
When Jimmy and Jaminda asked me to speak at Micah’s service, I was honored. I wanted to include his love of WarHammer 40K lore. WarHammer is a complicated board game played with plastic model armies. Micah’s army is called Orks. From the WarHammer website, “Orks have a collaborative, collective psychic ability, meaning if enough Orks believe something is true, then it will actually become so, brought into realspace through the power of the Immaterium by their gestalt psychic ability.” I didn’t focus on the world “gestalt” then, but knew I would write about it here later.
Broccoli and Cheese, and Butterflies
The crackling energy of the five-year old girl and the three-year-old dog bounding through my house reached a point that the house itself was shaking. So, I used the tried-and-true grandparenting technique of suggesting an after-dinner walk, hoping we could channel the energy, use it up, and come home calmer.
By the time we had been around the block and were heading back to the house, the sun was low in the sky and the heat and that deep calm of a summer evening was starting to settle in to the neighborhood, as well as each of us. Our pace was now lazy, and contented.
Music Heals
Early this summer, I met an old friend for dinner and a show. The tickets were from a mutual friend who wasn’t able to attend, so I didn’t know what I was in for. To my great surprise, the “show” turned out to be a profoundly moving conversation about racism and division, and how music can be a source of healing and unity.
The KC Symphony event featured Director Michael Stern hosting Yo-Yo Ma (the one and only), and Atlanta-based composer, conductor, pianist, and educator Joel Thompson, best known for his work for choir and orchestra, Seven Last Words of the Unarmed. The third guest was a promising musician and recent Staley High School graduate. We might never have known of Ralph Yarl if not for the horrific 2023 shooting that put him in the news as yet another victim of a racist (expletive deleted) bully with a gun.