Caryn Rivadeneira's Blog, page 3
April 9, 2014
My Lenten Confessional: Day 31
So, today’s Deadly Sin is Envy.
God, I’ve spent so much time confessing this one in my life already. And here too. As I’ve confessed it–really–on my Lust and Do Not Covet days. Of course, some folks (you know the one, God) think I’ve got lusting and covetousness mixed up. And maybe they’re right. At some level. But because envy worms its way through both of these things, I still see them all related, all strung together by the worm or streaked with its worm slime or whatever the metaphor needs to be.
Either way, though I’ve come a long way in the envy department (“prefer the given,” you know, changed my life), still. I envy. I envied people with “the right clothes” yesterday as I laid out some outfit options for Festival of Faith and Writing (yay!) and signed at every last one of them. I envy people with “people” to pack for them, to shop for them. (Are there such people? I’m sure. I’m jealous.) It’s times like yesterday that I’m reminded I envy the weirdest and most random things. (And yet this morning–that sunshine!–I can’t stop smiling with thankfulness. Spring! FFW! Writer friends! Thinking of missing my kids reminds me how great they are, how thankful I am!)
But back to envy: Forgive me.
Amen.
Click here for the other confessions and click here for the reason I’m even doing this.
April 8, 2014
My Lenten Confessional: Day 30
Dear God:
Today’s Deadly Sin is wrath. Woo boy. I’ve often thought (sometimes said) that there’s a reason I’m so wimpy. And why I’m not one of the rich and powerful. Because wrath is something I would rock at if I had the means. I’m bad enough with my ragey anger as it is. When people hurt my friends, my family. When someone is cruel to children, vicious to animals, I feel the anger burn deep, imagine the vengeance I could enact. It’s why House of Cards scared me so. I could be like Frank, like Claire. I could live life appeasing my vengeful wrath.
But like anything else, just imagining my wrath is enough–even if it’s not acted out. Forgive me for that.
Forgive me too for my “lesser” wrath. For the lashing out in anger at my kids, my husband. Though my anger toward my family never lasts long in me (it’s a fast-burn wrath), it stays with them. No way it can’t. Forgive me.
Amen.
Click here for the other confessions and click here for the reason I’m even doing this.
April 7, 2014
Introducing: Broke
Click here to view the embedded video.
Though Broke: What Financial Desperation Revealed about God’s Abundance has been available for a little over a week, April 7 has always been Broke’s Official Launch Date. And it’s here! Yay! To celebrate, here is a sample chapter.
Though Broke is a book about money–or, our time of living without much of it at all–of course, it’s not really a book about money. But instead, about the wild and wooly ways I sensed God through some wild and wooly wanderings through spiritual and financial deserts. It’s about being broke–not just in a financial sense–and being rebuilt, being remade. It’s about going broke, giving into doubt, hitting spiritual rock bottom, but crawling back up through the twists and turns and intrigues of faith and ending up dripping in God’s goodness (how many metaphors did I manage to mix?).
Broke isn’t just for those on the verge of financial disaster. Even my distinctly unbroke (*cough* rich) friends have found themselves in these pages, have related to the my “safari.” Because we’re all broke somehow, someway. Or, at least I hope we are or that one day you will be. Because there’s no doubt that God blessed me by breaking me.
Hope you check it out and enjoy it. Here’s what others are saying about Broke:
“Broke is [Rivadeneira's] story of how God used loss as a way of drawing her into deeper relationship with Him. At times both hilarious and heartbreaking, it is an important book for anyone who ever mistook making a good living for God’s abundant life.”
“In the vein of Ann Voskamp and Sarah Young, Rivadeneira (Known and Loved: 52 Devotions from the Psalms) offers a devotional perspective on financial desperation in the suburbs. Balancing between mystical mirth and spiritualized snark, she reflects on her skepticism about God’s trustworthiness and interweaves life stories of misfortune and small miracles to help readers find God and also ‘find him good.’ A sterling storyteller, Rivadeneira spins a narrative of finding benediction and a benevolent God amidst economic trial.”
“Only Caryn Rivadeneira could weave a tale of financial desperation into a page-turner. I didn’t want to put it down at night. You will discover life and light in these beautifully written pages.”
“If you like your Jesus sugary sweet, don’t read Broke. If you don’t think irreverent humor is next to godliness, don’t read Broke. If you hope that being broken by God involves superficial tinkering not soul-deep wrenching, don’t read Broke. If you don’t want a faith strong enough to wrestle with agonizing questions and hard stories, don’t read Broke. But if you like gritty and funny, honest and faithful, go for Broke.”
“Reading Rivadeneira’s Broke brings the beatitudes to life. With in-your-face honesty riddled with mirthful profundity, she takes her reader around blind corners smack into the glory and goodness of God. Rivadeneira reminds us that the abundant life is quite a ride, and that our ticket has been paid in full. All we have to pay is our attention.”
“Because the spiritual lessons found in Broke, while often simple, are still profound—particularly when they challenge us to shift our perception of what counts as ‘abundance.’ As a devotional or small-group reading, to be chewed over in bits and pieces, Broke can challenge us to re-center our perspective. It’s a reminder that no matter how small our struggles, God’s abundance is great.”
My Lenten Confessional: Day 29
Dear God:
Today’s sin is Sloth. And fortunately–at least for ease of writing–I spent 8 hours this weekend indulging in my first binge-watch. True Detective was free on my cable app and who knew when I’d get another chance to see it. So I snuck it in here and there. When I should’ve been doing other things. When I was doing other things.
And though I guess technically it was restful on the Sabbath to be slowly folding laundry (like an actual sloth) with my eyes glued to my tiny phone screen, really, it was sloth. Especially in the spiritual, sabbathy sense. After all, I skipped reading the lectionary yesterday morning to catch up on the show. Sloth.
But of course, I’m slothy so often. I’m lazy about connecting with you. About praying. About thanking. About confessing. It’s the whole reason I’m writing these prayers of confession here. If I had no public accountability, I’d fall off the wagon. That’s sloth.
Forgive me. Forgive me.
Amen.
Click here for the other confessions and click here for the reason I’m even doing this.
April 5, 2014
Book Bits
A selection of bloggy tidbits from my books.
“What I learned about asking God to give us this day our daily bread is that it’s really asking God into our lives, asking God to be made manifest in our needs. Because when we learn to live–or are forced to live, as the was for me and for so many of us–in ways in which we are dependent on God for the most basic of needs, when each morning we wake up wondering just how he would provide, we learn to look for his provision. So when we live asking for daily bread, we also live looking for it. And we see God every time a need is met. There is no such thing as coincidence in the daily-bread-dependent life. It’s all from God’s hand. And God’s hand becomes very near and very clear every time we munch on our manna. And all that his hand touches and all the sweet space it reaches out over becomes holy ground.”
-From “Bread” chapter in Broke
My Lenten Confessional: Day 28
So God, I’m going to give greed another go. Spent the day thinking about the non-financial ways I’m so greedy.
I have fantastic opportunities. But I want more. Sooner. Faster. Forgive me.
I write for a living–what I always wanted to do. But I want more. More money. More readers. More sales. More…attention? Forgive me.
I have an amazing family. But I want more from them. Forgive me.
I have so much goodness in my life, but keep wanting more out of it. Forgive me.
Amen.
Click here for the other confessions and click here for the reason I’m even doing this.
April 4, 2014
My Lenten Confessional: Day 27
So today’s Deadly Sin is Greed.
Hahaha.
So on Monday, God, as you know a book officially launches: Broke, a book that may as well have been titled Greed. In so many ways, that is the sin that our time of financial desperation and our continuing time of daily bread living has convicted me of, that is the ugly bit of me that’s gotten battered, beat down, reworked. And I thank you for that.
Greed got in the way of nearly everything in my life–affecting who I was, who I was made to be. It clouded the right paths of my life, sent me reeling down wrong ones.
I’m grateful that you used the time of no money to work me over, to wake me up to the awful role of greed in my life.
But of course, it’s not gone. The greed doesn’t have a starring role in my life any more, but the cameos… Ugh. When greed pops up, it grabs my attention, turns my head back away from you and toward the old me, the one who thought having money was everything. When greed shows its face, I get back to lusting over all I don’t have (even though I have so much), over how easy and happy we could be if only, if only we didn’t still carry this debt. When greed shows up, I imagine that if we just had X (well, X,XXX,XXX) dollars, how all would be well. When greeds around–as you know–I forget that I need you.
Forgive me for that. Forgive me for a lifetime of greed. Forgive me for greed being so deep in me, I hardly even know how to confess all the ways it exists, all the places it lurks.
Amen.
Click here for the other confessions and click here for the reason I’m even doing this.
April 3, 2014
My Lenten Confessional: Day 26
Oh God:
Today’s Seven Deadly Sin is lust. I saw that and rolled my eyes. I already confessed “lusting in my heart” Jimmy-Carter style in my adultery confession and wasn’t really in the mood to revisit this (sorry if that’s bad).
But of course, not all lust is sexual lust. In fact, with me, most is not. Lust is the reason I avoid house magazines. Lust is why I cancelled those Pottery Barn catalogs years ago. Lust is why I hate shopping. Lust happens every last time I see something–that sparkling bit of jewelry, that cozy stone fireplace, that beautiful bedroom, that lakefront lot, that swirly dress, those killer shoes–that I don’t have. And I want.
Lust happens when appreciation for beauty or goodness and a basic desire for them in my life take wrong turns, when they go too far. And it happens all the time.
So forgive me. Forgive the times I lust after what I don’t have. For when I spend too much time fantasizing about what it would be like to live there, to wear that, to have something. Forgive me for spending too little time thanking you for all I do have.
Amen.
Click here for the other confessions and click here for the reason I’m even doing this.
April 2, 2014
My Lenten Confessional: Day 25
Oh, dear God:
I suppose it was somewhere between trips to the buffet–to refill my plate with the tiny Belgian waffles smothered with peaches and syrup, even though I was already quite full from the other tiny waffles and the omelette and the bacon and potatoes and fruit and whatnot–that I realized perhaps I had some gluttony to confess. Especially since just the night before, at that yummy local hamburger place, which, though they piped Christian music over the speakers, they also asked if I wanted butter on my cheeseburger. Which seemed sinful, even as I answered, Why, yes. Please.
So somewhere in that time I thought I’d take a look at the Seven Deadlies of Sin and confess those. Not that I’m running out of sins, mind you. But the framework is good–a guide to examine my soul.
And while my BMI nor my dress size would not reveal my gluttony, while my regular eating habits wouldn’t even expose this, surely I am one. I eat when I am not hungry. But bored. I eat extravagantly, fragrantly. I eat wastefully. I buy pre-made and processed, expensive. All in a world where people have nothing. In my life while I’ve no worried about paying bills and losing our home, while I’ve been broke, I’ve never gone hungry. I’ve just shopped at Aldi.
That seems gluttonous. So, God, forgive me. Forgive my gluttonous attitude toward food. Though I will celebrate my friend Rachel Stone’s premise that we should Eat With Joy and to receive food with thanksgiving and that food–in its luxurious and delicious forms–can and is a gift from you, still. Gluttony happens. Too often. Forgive me. And for the drinks too….Ack.
Amen.
Click here for the other confessions and click here for the reason I’m even doing this.
April 1, 2014
My Lenten Confessional: Day 24
God:
Today I confess my lack of trust. In you. Specifically, for the times I plow through, rush ahead. Of you. You’d think by now I’d have learned to slow down, to wait, to know that you’ve got it all in your hands, that all will be well, in your timing, but alas. My knee-jerk is to think you’ve forgotten, to think I better handle it.
Forgive me.
Amen.
Click here for the other confessions and click here for the reason I’m even doing this.
