Tuesday, March 13, 2018

Bowling

On Sunday, Robbie and I went bowling at the MAC! Yes, we both sat down at a wheel and made bowls.  Would you believe it? We have been doing a lot of strength training, but I had no idea it took so much strength to make a bowl on a wheel.  We threw down the ball of clay and started molding it. Well, that’s what I thought we were doing, but then I found out we weren’t shaping it yet, we were just centering it, and grounding it to the wheel.  “Aha…,” I thought. "There is something to this."  The bowl cannot be properly shaped, unless it is centered.  Centering is hard work. The clay wanted to go on it’s own way. At first I tried to force it, but that didn’t work. I tried adding water, and added too much. Once I had to even get a new ball.  Eventually, the teacher helped me, and I got my arms appropriately propped on my legs to keep it steady, and guided the clay to the center.  From there I could begin to open it and shape it, and create it for a purpose.  

I do a lot of centering prayers, but until recently, I have worked quite hard at centering myself and steadying my breathing.  One of my guided meditations pointed out that breathing is one of the most natural things our bodies do on their own.  We can literally breathe in our sleep, if we are healthy and living.  So, when I begin my centering prayer, I now simply become aware of my breath.  I know what you’re thinking… "Isn’t that how every yoga teacher begins their class?”  Yes, I know, I’ve heard it said a million times, and yet, there is something special in noticing and choosing to do something, once you realize what that something actually looks and feels like.

As I was reflecting on God’s role as the potter, I realized that maybe God could do the work of centering me too.  I pray that God would open my heart, I pray for God to shape me, but I usually take the responsibility of finding my center.  So, here goes.

Lord, I know I am fearfully and wonderfully made by you. Guide me once more to find my center.  Hold me close to your heart. Let your will and your ways keep me at peace, that I might be willing to be opened once more, shaped once more, filled once more and used once more.  You are the potter, and I am your clay.  I was never created to be perfect, but I was created to be flexible, beautiful, hopeful, and loved. Amen.

My ball became a tea/coffee/watercolor bowl.  Nourishment it will provide, once it is fired and ready…

Wishing you had a handmade bowl or cup of your own? Click here to find more information on the Empty Bowls Event, hosted by the Manhattan Nonviolence Initiative and others, coming up April 7th.

Monday, March 05, 2018

The Little Voice

Last week on Facebook, I posted this picture of my physical transformation over the last 6 months which really just shows the strength I have gained physically and mentally.  A few people asked how I did it, and a lot of that comes from my faith.  I wouldn’t say it is in the faith that God would provide me the strength, but rather that God made me strong enough in the very beginning, and I’m still learning to tap into that power.

I am, and always have been, a self motivator. As long as I can remember, I’ve always had at least one little voice saying, “Go Kate, you can do it, I know you can.”  Sometimes the voice gets a little mean. I make a mistake or whine or drag my feet, and she says, “What’s the matter with you! What were you thinking! You have to be more and do more if you want to show them what you’re worth!”  It’s great to know your worth and what you are capable of doing, but my greatest fear is probably that I am not worthy of the work in front of me, or that I am not enough.  Because I am human, this fear will always have friends in the world and the little voice loves to mock me with their words or expectations. My worst emotional and physical experiences have been when the little voice had echoes of real people in my life or actual situations which only serve to prove the point: I am not enough.

Theologically, I can “Jesus juke” the little voice by saying, “Jesus is enough.”  But sometimes the little voice is so loud, that I’m speechless. I start to believe it.

When Jesus looks at us, he sees our failings. He doesn’t ignore them, because they are a part of us. They have formed us for better or for worse. But he has also formed us, and he knows what moves us, he knows what motivates us. He knows the deepest desires of our heart. He can use this to shape us and mold us into the best version of ourselves. When I change, I echo Gods work. God’s work is not making me enough for the world, God is enough for us all. God’s work resonates and travels when I open up my life to be an echo of grace.  I don’t have to be the copy or exactly enough for the world, I am called to be a mirror, a reflection, an echo of the one who has more than enough love to go around.

How do I ask the little voice to echo God’s voice? I think I just did. “Go and do likewise,” she says. “Go as far and as hard as you can. Jesus will make up the rest. He always has, and he always will." Even when it looks like he doesn’t come through on the route you want, he has been working with a bigger picture, and even though my puzzle piece is not enough, he will come to meet me and help me make that perfect and holy match. That is the promise of the gospel, not that God will make me enough, but that when I open up to reveal that gap, God’s beautiful love shines through and in the cavern of my inadequacy there is an echo of the little voice of God, “You are loved. You are precious, and you are spectacularly made for this.” 

I may not be perfect, but I am fearfully and wonderfully made. And so are you.



Amen.