Hexagons of Healing

During my pregnancy I started an afghan for our little baby. At that point I didn’t know the gender, but I knew our child was destined to be an adventurer and a gamer;) So, I set out to create a Catan Afghan. If you are unfamiliar with the game Settlers of Catan, here is a sample board.  Our friends on Facebook have most likely seen a posting of our Star Wars Catan board, which we frequently take to a coffee shop for date morning/night.

Even my friends in the Czech Republic will remember how we played this game in English Class and on Youth trips.  You collect resources of Clay, Wheat, Sheep, Wood, and Ore to build roads, settlements, or cities and pay your soldiers. This game was part of our courtship and has made our marriage grow stronger as we learned to laugh together, argue with open ears, and forgive each other with Grace. We are each other’s “worthy adversary”.

Since November I’ve been making crocheted hexagons to match the tiles on the board and the water surrounding the island. It seemed a shame not to complete this awesome creation, even if he would never get to play on it like I imagined. Instead, it has served as a sort of blanket of healing for me.

When we came home from the hospital, I took out the tiles and counted up how many more I had to do. Only a few more hexagons, and I would be ready to lay out the board. I was so pumped, and the final hexagon was the most perfect I had made, so I decided to make it the center piece. When the greatly anticipated time to lay out the crocheted board came, I felt satisfied and filled with hope.

As you can perhaps tell, “pumped” was the key word from the description of my laying out the afghan before me. Working on the afghan didn’t actually help lower my blood pressure. If fact, I had to pace myself, because sitting up and working on something engaging would raise my blood pressure.  Working on the afghan has been a lot like the physical and emotional healing process—even if you know the steps you have to take, you still have to go through the painstakingly slow process of one step at a time…skipping steps only knocks you further back.  

Crocheting the final hexagons and beginning to connect them, I imagined God continuing to knit or crochet in my womb.  Women who have been through labor or pregnancy will attest to the cramping and activity you feel as your womb begins to shrink. For weeks now I have felt like they were almost ghost pains from the labor and an unfortunate reminder of what is not longer in my womb. I prefer to think of it as God working to heal my womb as I am continuing to work the yarn on my afghan.  

Just as the afghan will continue to need some work in the coming weeks, I know that God will continue to work on my physical and emotional healing. And God has enough strength to get us through it all.

A Week of Rest; Weak Rest

Reflection after week one of recovery:

Rest. I thought I knew how to rest. I know many relaxation techniques and many tools for meditation. I have many activities that I consider "restful and rejuvenating", and yet, I have been forced to rest in a whole new extreme this week, when even crocheting on the couch made my blood pressure rise to an unhealthy level. Thanks to my doctor we finally have my blood pressure maintained with the right medication. Thanks to my sister and husband who had a knack for noticing when I was getting too active and needed to lay down on my side, I survived without any complications. 

By Friday I was extremely tired of resting, and I realized I had been skipping the first step in relaxation or meditation: awareness. So, I started to do an awareness scan of my body, and I realized why I had been skipping that move. First of all, my mind was still in disbelief that my womb was now empty, and secondly, at my core I was achingly sad. Most parts of my body were resisting something, and when I imagined a visual of my heart, it was extremely tired and full of sadness. I called Robbie into the room, since we have promised each other that we wouldn't get on the grief train alone, and he held me while I let go of a huge wave of grief. Frustration and anger are still pretty buried inside me, but the sadness and the terror that this is all actually happening flowed out or rather was allowed to come to the surface.

Each day since I've been choosing to do a body scan to help me take a nap, and both my napping and grief have progressed. One major factor we've seen this week is that knowing a lot about grief and prayer and God doesn't put you on some express train to feeling better or moving through the stages of healing and grief at an easier or quicker rate. Our theology, however, has kept us grounded and connected to each other. Even when I did feel the anger coming up to the surface, I didn't know where to aim it. I know I can't blame myself, I can't blame Robbie, I can't blame my doctor, but I didn't want to blame God. And in that moment when I felt the anger beginning to burst, I heard God saying,"Come on, let me have it. I can bear it. Jesus bore all of your anger and pain on the cross already, so let me have it." It wasn't an angry voice like in Job. When I see the sentence now, it reads like a challenge. But when I heard the voice it was very comforting, reassuring, strong, full of knowledge, and able to withstand all the anger and pain I have buried. 

If you're reading this, you've most likely been praying for us and/or experienced this kind of loss yourself. Thank you for your prayers, and for those of you who have been echoing our grief, our hearts break for you, too. May you hear God's reassuring voice as well, and may you feel the freedom to "let him have it." 

A day of rest

On this Sabbath day, we found many ways to rest. At times, resting meant napping or reading with Maggie. For me, resting also meant baking. Ree Drummond has this awesome cinnamon roll recipe which takes a little work with hours of rest in between. The perfect recipe for a Sunday of healing. There is something prayerful and meditative about feeding yeast and kneading dough.  After I was done making three large trays of cinnamon rolls, I realized it was a lot of work...but it seemed a perfect way to connect with my word for the year, "savor."

My word for the year almost seems like a cruel joke to me at times now. How can you tell a young mother to savor each moment when she just lost the child who should be feeding and savoring the milk from her breasts? How can you tell a no-longer pregnant woman to savor the delicious food in front of her when suddenly she can eat whatever she wants and everything tastes a hundred times better, because her taste buds have finally re-turned to normal, because she is no longer supporting the baby she used to have inside her.

At other times the word seems like an essential and necessary gift for me in this process. Choosing to savor the moment, means choosing not to resent this pregnancy, this baby boy. Choosing to savor this moment with my spouse, means choosing not to shame him or myself by continuing to question if we could have done anything different to prevent this from happening. Choosing to savor the moments I will have with my friends, means choosing to share our pain and our hope, instead of hiding in a cave or rejecting their help.

It reminds us to savor each other, to savor our joyful memories from the last 24 weeks. It helps understand the words of our dear friend Rose, "The gift of joy that you have been given can never be taken away." Savoring those memories instead of resenting them helps us to grasp onto the joy which feels out of our reach.

One breath at a time

It was with great grief and hope that yesterday we announced the birth and death of our child, Robert Earl Collins. The last 24 hours has been a rough patch as we ride the waves of grief, and our dear beloved friends and family have showered us with hope as well as lamentation for our tragic experience. I realized as I was the one who physically went through the labor to birth our already lost child, we(Robbie, our family, and close friends) were all suffering through the storm of child loss. As my body goes through the physical healing from this very physical process, we all will be going through healing as well.  Robbie and I have been intentionally leaning on one another to pray together, cry together, lament together and seek words of hope.

Since I process through my writings I will be posting some of the words which give voice to our grief process which can be helpful for you to know how we are doing, as well as, hopefully, provide language for others who have been or will go through times like this in their own unique circumstances.

For instance, I was telling him this morning that when I go out in public, I want to wear a button that says, "Warning, I just lost my first child. Treat me with compassion, but please do not ask me how I am doing. Neither of us can handle the pain right now."

Robbie: I want mine to say, "Don't tell me it will be okay, don't tell me a story of hope, just give me something normal."

We've been describing the grief process as a sort of runaway train, which you can try to get off or try to stop or pretend that your not on, but no matter what you do, you're already on it. Incomprehension fuels this runaway train of grief, and the more we avoid the pain, the faster and more reckless it goes.  When we talk and cry and let out our emotions, the train does indeed slowdown and become more controlled, not because things get better or easier, but because the unreal becomes more real and the incomprehensible becomes comprehensible. You are never on the train alone, but you can choose who you sit with on that train. We are choosing to sit with each other and we are very thankful for the friends who are sitting with us through this terrifying and hopeful experience.

Our faith is our foundation through this experience, as we testify to our belief that the same God who was knitting Bob together in my womb is now playing at his side in the new life which is promised for us all. 

Thank you for reading, thank you for your prayers, and Christ's peace to you who are also grieving.

A Year to "Savor"

Have you chosen a word for the year? My word for the year is SAVOR. As a pregnant woman with lots of aversions, this word may mean more to me than it does to you. And that’s the point of it. Below is the text from my sermon on Sunday which shares about the traditions of choosing a word or words to guide us through the year. If you’re in Manhattan, you can stop by First Presbyterian and pick up one of the verses on stars, doves and crosses.  If you'd like on in the mail, send me a note! If you would like a method to choose your word for the year, you can follow the instructions suggested in the sermon. Blessings on your year!

“Starwards Bound”

Genesis 1

¹ In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. ² The earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep; and the Spirit of God was moving over the face of the waters.
³ And God said, “Let there be light”; and there was light. ⁴ And God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness. ⁵ God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, one day.

Last week we reflected on the journey of the Magi who had been called on an expedition to find this new King of the Jews. I wonder what their motivation could have been to follow that star they saw in the heavens.  Did they travel through weather and physical challenge out of duty? Did they seek persistently out of curiosity? Whatever their motivation, they too were answering a calling to meet Jesus, to experience the living presence of God.  When they answered that call and they followed the star, they experienced an epiphany that changed their lives forever, and sent them in a new direction.

Like the Magi, we are at a precipice, approaching a new season of life. As we begin this new season, with a new President, a new school year, new experiences, we must continue to follow the star, looking for hope, looking for Jesus, beyond epiphany, beyond the journey to Bethlehem.  We continue to look for The Light of Christ, as a calling to seek Jesus in all that we do, in everywhere that we go.

When we make New Year’s resolutions, they tend to look backward. We vow to right the things we did wrong last year, or improve on our shortcomings, or somehow lessen our regrets from the past.  These resolutions fail when they are merely reactions to the symptoms in our lives, seeking a perfection of this world, rather than the life that Jesus wants to give us.  Our faith calls us to look towards the future and to do so with hope, trusting in God’s hand and God’s faithfulness.  This forward thinking enables us to set goals, so that instead of merely reacting to daily problems, we are setting goals for a longterm plan, following the star over hills and valleys, even when the days get hard.

When companies want to look towards the future and develop longterm goals, they frequently turn to consultants or look towards their leaders to develop a strategic plan.  A bit different than mere resolutions at the beginning of a season, these consultants look at the true identity of the company, what gifts they have to offer, what challenges they face, and what hope they have for the future. Many of you, I’m sure have experienced this, if not in your own business, but maybe in this church. The cards in your pews reflect some of the work of the Planning Committee and the Membership Committee as they sought to give us the phrase, First in Worship, First in Family, First in Service.   

One of my favorite methods I have used with groups or organizations follows a little book I found years ago called One Word that Will Change Your Life, by Jon Gordon, Dan Britton and Jimmy Page. They begin by sharing stories of how their method could be used in your personal life, your family, your school, your work, your church, your sports team or any of your other organizations.  They advised the Atlanta Falcons, years ago, leading them each to have a personal word to use as a guide for the year. Even their head coach, which at the time was Mike Smith, chose a word.  His word was “Finish,” because he wanted himself and his team to finish strong in everything they did.” He described the powerful impact that the word had not just on him but also his team.  

Their method is quite spiritual, as the first instruction is to Prepare Your Heart and Look In.  After unplugging from the noise and activity around you, they invite you to focus on three essential questions:

1. What do I need?
2. What’s in my way?
3. What needs to go?

What challenging questions. (read them again) So often we get caught up in trying to accomplish the first one that the challenges in our way or other burdens or commitments keep us from reaching that first necessary essential.  By considering what stands in our way, and confessing the things we need to let go of in our lives, we can move forward and grasp what we need to accomplish our larger goal in life.

The final step is to "Look up, to plug in and listen up." They put it this way in the book, “Once you’ve prepared your heart, you are ready to receive your word. God has a word that is meant for you. Remember, God can use all means to communicate with us and you never know when, where and how your word will be revealed to you.”

There are several monastic traditions which tell of the spiritual giving of words from an even more spiritual aspect. At times, followers would request a Word and after prayer and reflection, a monk would deliver a word sent from God to them. Perhaps it would be a singular word or scripture.

There’s a fascinating story of a student who asked Cassian the Monk for a method of unceasing prayer, and he ended up learning about the practice of prayers from those teaching in the Egyptian Desert. They would be given one line of a psalm which would become for them a leitmotif or essential theme to everything the monk did, from daily work tasks to their daily scripture readings.  This verse would become the lens through which they saw the world. 

I can remember a similar experience I had when someone send me a verse of scripture when I was going through a particularly dark time.  I had an injury in my hand which was keeping me from playing flute, and I wasn’t quite at the point where I had to choose what to do next, but I was definitely at the start of a new season, and wondered why God had allowed this to happen to me and where I would go next.  A dear friend sent the epiphany to me in the mail, and the scripture stayed by my bed throughout that season of my life. It was the same words that were given to Joshua as he was stepping up to lead the people of Israel after Moses: The Lord said, "This is my command—be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.”

Whether it is a single word or a verse of scripture, these traditions hold to these words as a guiding light to see the world and face everyday challenges. In either method, this light comes from God and draws us to God. Jesus came to be the light and to draw us into the light which shines so that all the world might have the ability to see clearly, and see beyond the darkness which would seek to overtake us.

Today I invite you to receive a Word from God.  In a moment we will pass the offering plates again and this time you will take an object rather than placing one. You will find stars, doves and crosses that have scriptures on them, and I challenge you not to read them and make a choice, but to allow the spirit to choose for you and merely take one as it comes to you.

When you take this scripture home, read it again, and put it somewhere you will see it regularly.  Read it from time to time and let the words sink into your mind, into your breath, and into your bones.  As the words return to you in your challenges and moments of Joy, may you encounter the True Word of God, Jesus, the Living Word made flesh. May the star guide you to meet him and may it continue to guide you to experience grace, peace, joy and a life full of hope.

Amen.

The treasure within

7 We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves.8 We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. 9 We are hunted down, but never abandoned by God. We get knocked down, but we are not destroyed.10 Through suffering, our bodies continue to share in the death of Jesus so that the life of Jesus may also be seen in our bodies.   

2 Corinthians 4:7-10 New Living Translation (NLT)

Robbie and I are on the most exciting and challenging journey of our lives: we’re expecting a baby in May 2017!  I say most challenging, because it’s not about having the skill to learn a language or climb a mountain or something I can train to do perfectly. We are on this wild ride which is filled with joy, lots of emotions, new firsts, a queasy mama, a proud papa, eager hearts, and a mysterious activity going on inside my body that is growing the newest member of our family! It is so surreal it makes my mind as queasy as my tummy;) 

This morning in my prayers I felt God give me this passage, as I find myself to be the fragile clay jar carrying this beautiful treasure. Paul was using this image to speak to the Christians in Rome who were being persecuted for their faith.  The fragile clay jar symbolized their human bodies which could be broken and damaged, while the treasure inside symbolized their faith as a gift from God which could not be damaged by the world, because it was sustained by the life of Christ and nothing else.  As someone who longed for motherhood, I never imagined the physical challenges that would come with it.  Sure I knew that there was sickness and body growth and hormones, but I’m Kati, I can get through anything. I never imagined how tired I would be, how depressed I could get at times, how constant food aversions and nausea would effect me, and how that special “umph”, or ability to muster up energy and get something done, would just disappear out of reach. 

So many things can go wrong in pregnancy, it’s hard to fathom that those things are mostly out of our control.  Although I keep a tight watch on my diet, I recognize that ultimately I could do everything perfectly and so much about the child’s development is still completely out of my hands.  Thankfully, though, God’s hands are there at work. My mantra this week has been to let God take control; “Jesus take the wheel!” Like it or not, I recognize I’ve never been in the drivers seat for this journey, but recognizing that God has always been there brings me peace.  This little treasure may be fed by my blood and my body, but it is sustained by the Life of Christ already shining from within.  

Compassionate and All-mighty Creator, keep up the Good work and as I am pushed from every side may I find the joy to marvel at the treasure within, to rejoice in the gift being given, to laugh like Sarah at the joyful mystery of it all, and to sing like Mary for the blessing that is coming into our lives.

Reflections on the 2016 Election

(Big sigh.) I thought I was ready for this. I comforted people before the election saying, “the world will go on no matter who is elected on Tuesday,” and “no matter how the vote turns out, we must continue to trust in God, to trust in our country and to trust in one another.” 

Last night I cried myself to sleep lamenting that our next president would not be someone I could consider a role model for my children and myself. My husband comforted me saying, “Who are we to think we have the right to a president who is a perfect role model for our children. That’s our job.” I went to sleep grateful for my husband who respects women, daily helps me be a better feminist and enjoys learning from and working alongside people who are different from him, whether it be from race, religion, economic differences, orientation and more.

As I awoke to article after article reporting the election of Donald J. Trump to be our next President of the United States of America, I cried in sadness for all of those who have been insulted and feared for their safety in this country throughout his campaign.  How could I face them? How could I face those who elected him? How could I preach to a congregation which more than likely is as divided as our nation?

Tonight I’m giving a short lecture on Hildegard of Bingen. I was filled with joy to think about how it would feel to talk about her on the day after the first woman president was elected.  As I sat composing my final thoughts this morning, I was filled with dread, considering the person elected degraded women with violent language and even testified that women shouldn’t be in the military.  The anxiety and sadness enacted my morning sickness, so this pregnant pastor has been vomiting and nauseous all day.

So, I turn to my writing to mark down my thoughts for my child to be and my fellow Americans.  One reality is incredibly clear today.  We may think we have come so far in creating a better world, but somehow we continue to speak only to and with those who agree with us.  Try as we can to truly listen to one another intentionally with our whole heart, it doesn’t work unless we sit at table with those who disgust us, those we don’t understand, and those we fear.  We will never grow past this division, unless we all sit at the table together and really talk, really listen, and prepare our hearts to be changed and see things in a different light. 

We’ve reached a point in our culture where every demographic feels oppressed. From refugees and immigrants to muslim Americans born and raised in this country, from Native American tribes on the reservation to the African Americans working twice as hard to climb up the ladder and provide for their families, those we expect to feel like we are making progress, they still feel like our system is broken and law enforcement continue to face challenges building relationships.  Caucasian men and women, with big houses, stable retirement plans and work that fulfills their passions, you would expect them to feel safe and satisfied with their life. And yet, they also feel oppressed when they feel their voices are not heard, when they feel their rights might be taken away, when they feel their tax money goes towards programs that help people who make mistakes they have avoided and when they make judgements about others without ever talking to them. 

President Elect Trump promises to be a President for all of us. Can it be done? Will he do it? Will he listen? He has picked up on a voice almost no one else was listening to before and throughout the election. Will he listen to more voices? 

As I speak about Hildegard tonight, I am reminded that she declares the visions came to her from God for all people, to guide them to a higher way of living. She spoke with authority to the people with authority, and she never apologized for it. 

I resolve to continue my work to make the hidden seen and give the unheard a voice, and I pick up the challenge of Hildegard to continue provoking and confronting those who are ignoring their brothers and sisters of humanity and especially those who ignore the plight of our fellow Americans.  May we all soften our hearts and choose to sit at table, even when it makes us want to run away and vomit, and may we experience the Light of Life as we meet together.

“And as the power of God is everywhere and encompasses all things, and no obstacle can stand against it, so too the human intellect has great power to resound in living voices, and arouse sluggish should to vigilance by the song.” translated from Scivias, Hildegard von Bingen.

#Imwiththem #LoveAllAmericans