Alan Fadling's Blog, page 14

UL #298: From Rush to Rest: Navigating Life's Terrain with an Unhurried Heart (Gem)

 

I love watching travel and cooking shows, so if there’s a show that combines the two, I’m hooked. If you are familiar with the names Phil Rosenthal, Guy Fieri and Andrew Zimmern, then you know what I’m talking about. 

 

Traveling, eating tasty food, and meeting intriguing people is a combination my heart longs for. I’ve often mentioned to Alan that if I were to have an alternate universe job, I would be the host of Somebody Feed Phil (I guess Phil would have to find his own new job).

UL #298: From Rush to Rest: Navigating Life's Terrain with an Unhurried Heart (Gem)

 

I love watching travel and cooking shows, so if there’s a show that combines the two, I’m hooked. If you are familiar with the names Phil Rosenthal, Guy Fieri and Andrew Zimmern, then you know what I’m talking about. 

 

Traveling, eating tasty food, and meeting intriguing people is a combination my heart longs for. I’ve often mentioned to Alan that if I were to have an alternate universe job, I would be the host of Somebody Feed Phil (I guess Phil would have to find his own new job).

Little Virtues, Big Peace: Rediscovering Humility and Gentleness

Blog by Alan Fadling

Having written a book about anxiety, I’ve seen a lot of promises about how to solve it. A life hack here. Six easy steps there. But my own experience with anxiety has been anything but easy. In this post, I’ll share some of the more unexpected pathways to peace I’ve discovered in my journey.

 

As I’ve been talking more and more about A Non-Anxious Life, a couple chapters have been initially puzzling to at least a few interviewers. In these chapters, I suggest that the path of deeper peace might well invite us into the territory of humility, gentleness, patience, dependence, and even surrender. I’m guessing that these are not the pathways to a non-anxious life that initially come to mind for you either. Imagining what these pathways would look like in practical terms might even raise our anxieties.

 

In our search to overcome anxiety and find peace, we might look for ways to reduce trouble in our lives. If we’re able to do that, it might just help, but some troubles seem beyond our power to change. Or we may try to reduce conflict in our work or personal relationships, and again, if we are able to do that, it helps. Too often, however, conflict comes our way unexpected and uninvited.

 

But what if our most reliable source of peace has nothing to do with changing what is happening around us but changing something that is happening in us. When Jesus says that he is giving us his peace—a peace that’s different from what the world is offering—I believe this inner transformation is part of what he means.

 

In my book, I highlight the goodness of what have been called the “little virtues”:

 

“Our instinct is often to seek impressive virtues, exciting virtues, even heroic virtues. What if those virtues that are held in highest regard in the kingdom of God are actually humility and gentleness, among others? This is what we hear in the invitation of Jesus who describes himself as gentle and humble in heart (Matthew 11:29). Practicing these simple virtues right-sizes my life.

 

“Pursuing these little virtues will not lead to a small life. The little virtues are the way of Jesus, and so they are the way of growth in the glory and the power of God’s kingdom. Peace grows well in the soil of these simple virtues.” (A Non-Anxious Life, p. 69)

 

Our assumption that everything in our lives must be big and exciting and heroic does not actually add to but more often diminishes our peace.

 

So, the first of these little virtues that is a familiar friend of peace is…

 

Humility

 

Our contemporary North American culture is far more likely to promote pride as a virtue over humility. Pride is seen as empowering. Humility is seen as devaluing. But the pressure to make a name for ourselves through self-promotion does not play well with peace. The pressure to maintain a certain appearance for others leaves peace in the dust.

 

And the idea that my value is something I have to keep proving or keep earning day after day does not lean in the direction of peace.

 

Humility is not a devaluing of ourselves. It is letting go of the attempt to create self-generated value. Our true value has been given to us by God. Humility is a receptive and peaceful posture of embracing the value we are given. It’s a relief, actually, not to think about ourselves as often as we’re tempted to do.

 

So, when it comes to finding a way of peace in our lives, we need to let humility replace pride. Pride assumes that the path to peace is getting my way at all times, but isn’t it possible that Jesus knows the way to peace better than I do?

 

A second little virtue that plays well with peace is…

 

Gentleness

 

Gentleness is another unexpected companion of peace. In one of the few places that Jesus describes himself and his way, he says, “I am gentle and humble in heart” (Matt. 11:29). Is that our vision of him? Or is our vision of Jesus more demanding? How do we imagine a Prince of Peace who is other than gentle and humble? Does a Prince of Peace who is rough and mean make any sense?

 

One of the practical ways I’ve discovered the companionship of gentleness and peace is in how I treat myself. I’ve had a tendency in my spiritual journey to be rather harsh with myself in the belief that this would lead to better behavior on my part. I imagined that being hard on myself was the path to goodness.

 

But we’re told that God’s way of leading us to repentance is the way of kindness. It is God’s gentle way that inspires lasting change. Harshness may provoke a moment or even a season of change. But it also hardens something in us that then remains unchanged. Love transforms our inner posture, and this is what leads to lasting change and, in fact, to inner peace.

 

So, when it comes to discovering a more non-anxious way of living, I need to replace ruthlessness with gentleness. Ruthlessness assumes that the way to peace means treating others as obstacles to be harshly opposed. It really isn’t though.

 

In a couple of weeks, I’ll share three more unexpected companions of peace.

 

For Reflection:

Consider the idea that the most reliable source of peace comes from changing something within ourselves rather than changing external circumstances. How does this perspective challenge your own practical approach to seeking peace these days?
How might prioritizing little virtues like humility and gentleness contribute to a more non-anxious way of life for you in this season you find yourself in?

UL: #297: Overcoming Hurry Sickness: The Virus of Insecurity

 

In An Unhurried Leader, I shared that I’ve often been tempted to prove something about myself through the work I do. I behave as though my value is uncertain and needs to be earned or achieved. It isn’t and it doesn’t. To use a theological category, my worth is more a matter of grace rather than a matter of works.

 

That sort of insecurity has been a major driver of hurry in my life. I wonder if you identify. 

6 Verses to Foster Spiritual Formation

Blog by Gem Fadling

For the last few years I have enjoyed meeting with women in coaching or soul care groups. It is such a beautiful and vulnerable way to share our lives. The women who attend are always leaning in toward God and desiring to connect at a deeper level with others.

 

Awhile back I decided I wanted to share with these women the scriptures that have helped form me. These verses helped me focus on the centrality of God’s love, the way of Jesus, and the process of being transformed. I’d like to share these passages with you today.

 

Of course, these are not all the verses that have impacted me, nor are they the only verses that point to love, connection, and transformation. I’m simply sharing some verses that, to me, paint the lovely picture of how God initiates and we respond over the course of our lives.

 

I believe this progression and these verses are the trellis on which the flowering vine of my life can unfold. Not every verse that represents this process is included, but this is a wonderful starting place.

 

I love these passages, and I hope they will bring encouragement to your heart today. I suggest you make time later to read them slowly and notice how they inform your own foundational connection to God as God enlivens, renews, and refreshes you.

 

1. It Begins with God’s Love and Care

 

The Lord said, “I have indeed seen the misery of my people in Egypt. I have heard them crying out because of their slave drivers, and I am concerned about their suffering. So I have come down to rescue them from the hand of the Egyptians and to bring them up out of that land into a good and spacious land, a land flowing with milk and honey.” (Exodus 3:7-8)

 

This passage is the basis for the practice of Immanuel Journaling created by Sungshim Loppnow. These are the main verbs that stand out:

 

I see you.
I hear you.
I am concerned about you.
I can help you.
I will be gracious to you.

 

This passage wonderfully shows us God’s posture toward us. I’m seen, heard, cared for, and graciously helped. This is a beautiful foundation on which to build a life.

 

2. God Is Not Elsewhere

 

In him we live and move and have our being. (Acts 17:23)

 

I love the all-encompassing nature of these words. I am in God. I am in Christ. All of me, all the time. I live, move, and have my being in God. You can’t get any closer than that. This is kingdom reality. God is not elsewhere.

 

3. God Initiates, Carries, and Completes

 

He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. (Philippians 1:6)

 

I get into trouble when I carry the weight of the world on my little shoulders. I think too highly of myself and move forward in a spirit of control. This verse assures me that God began the work and God will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ. As Henry Blackaby profoundly noted, we simply join God in God’s work.

 

This is another foundational idea that keeps me from being over-responsible and then overwhelmed.

 

4. We Remain Attached

 

I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. (John 15:5)

 

This verse and its surrounding context is so important. It is the centrality of our connection to Jesus. We remain attached. And just like with a vine or tree, the branch that stays connected bears fruit. It’s simply the way things work. “Apart from me you can do nothing” is one of my favorite lines of scripture. I receive it as an invitation into a lifelong relationship of connection, nourishment, promise, and love.

 

5. We Are Transformed

 

Be transformed by the renewing of your mind. (Romans 12:1 NIV).

Let’s just go ahead and be what we were made to be…. Love from the center of who you are. (Romans 12:6, 9 MSG).

 

These phrases leapt out at me one time when I was listening to scripture while preparing to lead a daylong retreat. Notice the passive nature of that phrase “be transformed.” It hearkens back to Philippians 1:6. God initiates and God transforms. Our part is to remain open, respond, and cooperate. Again, it’s an organic and connected image.

 

And within that transformation I am invited to simply be who I was created to be and love from the center of that place. This is simple but not always easy. I can practice embracing who God has made me to be and then simply offer that to others. And I can more easily love from that place of reality. No masks, no personas. Just me offering myself in healthy and helpful ways for the sake of others.

 

6. Fruit Emerges

 

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. (Galatians 5:22-23)

 

I don’t make fruit. This is important because it’s easy to get caught in the trap of trying to produce. Christian production is exhausting because it’s an unnecessary trap that can lead to burnout.

 

But fruit-bearing is a sustainable way to live. And this brings us back to John 15. I remain attached, open, and cooperative. And then fruit like love, joy, and peace can emerge naturally from my life.

 

Just like a farmer doesn’t actually create an apple, I don’t create peace. A farmer tends a plant by watering, weeding, thinning, and pruning, and it bears fruit. Likewise, I tend to the soil and garden of my own heart and God bears the fruit of peace, goodness, and kindness.

 

Something being formed in me that grows and then bursts forth is different from me pushing and trying to make something happen. This is an important posture shift for a Christian leader.

 

As I reflect on these passages again, I realize I’m really just painting a picture of John 15. It is the progression of the vine and the branches. No surprise there, as I’ve been living for over thirty years with that image as my paradigm for life.

 

How do these verses strike you? What emerges from within you as you read them? I hope they inspire you today and that you have a deeper sense of living, moving, and having your being in God.

 

For Reflection: 

I invite you to consider these verses again later. What does the progression mean to you?
If you were to create your own scripture-based paradigm, which verses would you choose?
What is the trellis of your own life? What supports you as you make your way forward in formation and leadership?

UL #296: A Heart for Leadership Formation (Gem w/ Jodie and Matt)

 

Unhurried Living is now in its ninth year of serving Christian leaders around the world. We’ve come to some small inflection points in the past, but we are in the midst of another, important time in our ministry. We are adding to our team!

 

Today I am introducing you to Jodie Niznik and Matt Fogle. They are two stellar leaders who are going to link arms with Alan and me as we continue the work of training leaders to rest deeper, live fuller and lead better. I can’t wait for you to meet them.

 

Jodie Niznik is a seminary-trained and ordained lover of God’s Word and people. She served in pastoral ministry at a large church for over twelve years, including as Women’s Pastor, Adult Ministries Pastor and Executive Pastor. She now helps people create space for God through her Scripture meditation podcast, So Much More, and  Real People, Real Faith Bible studies.

 

Matt Fogle is a trained Spiritual Director who also has two Master’s degrees in Organizational Leadership and in Spiritual Formation. He grew up in rural Illinois where mentors helped Matt to see that God is calling everyone to an abundant and adventurous life in Christ. For over ten years Matt has been a pastor in TX, IL and AZ, as well as a speaker and retreat facilitator in CA & CO. He has worked with multiple non-profits in the areas of leadership development and spiritual formation.

In the Eye of the Storm: Finding Peace Amidst Anxiety

Blog by Alan Fadling

In A Non-Anxious Life, I wrote how Jesus’s counsel about anxiety speaks to the reality of God’s physical care for his creation. Jesus says, “Look at the birds.” He urges us to recognize that God is caring for their physical needs. You never see them shopping at the local grocery store, yet they always find food to eat each day.

 

In the first weeks after the book release, I found myself doing a lot of podcast and radio interviews. During one of these, California was being hit by a historic rainstorm that dropped four months’ worth of rain in just two days. Our backyard looked like a lake. I was just finishing up my conversation when I looked out the window through a torrent of rain and noticed a number of birds happily eating lunch at our bird feeders.

 

As my smartphone was alerting me to a flood warning for our area, the birds were enjoying the care of God right in the middle of it.

 

Who was taking care of the birds? God.

 

Who is caring for me? God.

 

Right at the center of the storms that surround each of us, God’s care is present and real. The God of peace is a caring presence in the midst of my many cares, whatever they may be.

 

Flowers are another image Jesus uses when speaking about worry. You never see lilies shopping for clothes in a department store or roses posting carefully curated photos on social media, but they are more beautiful than any of that. No royalty or celebrity comes close to the beauty of a field covered with wildflowers.

 

I remember visiting Israel one spring about ten years ago. Throughout the trip, we saw fields full of bright red anemones everywhere we drove. They were breathtakingly beautiful. They don’t anxiously strive to be beautiful. God has given them beauty. In the same way, the goodness and beauty of our own lives is a gift rather than something we frantically try to earn.

 

God cares for the physical well-being of birds and flowers, and we can rest in God’s tangible care for us as well. My worries matter to God. Jesus cares about our concerns, but they don’t worry him. That which provokes anxiety in me is in the Father’s care.

 

Recently, there have been a number of situations—personal, relational, and vocational—that have provoked a strong physical reaction of anxiety in me. It’s not an unfamiliar sensation. But practicing the presence of God’s care and peace as I was writing this latest book has enabled me to have a bit of distance from the anxiety rather than being inundated by it.

 

Martin Laird, in his beautiful little book Into the Silent Land, talks about the practice of silent prayer. He shares a metaphor that I’ve found very helpful. He suggests that all the anxious thoughts and feelings that surround us are like weather that surrounds a mountain. We are tempted, especially when that weather is stormy, to think that we are the weather.

 

But Laird reminds us that, in God, we are much more solid than that. We are like that mountain, rooted in God, rather than the surface weather that comes and goes. We have worries, but we are not our worries. This difference of perspective has helped me to right-size anxious thoughts and feelings. Anxiety can still come on strong in my experience, but recognizing that it’s passing weather and not permanent reality has been good for me.

 

My thoughts, feelings, and sensations of anxiety are real. They are actually happening to me and in me. But God-with-me is even more real.

 

Too often I’ve practiced the presence of anxiety more than the presence of God. It’s as though I’m rehearsing my worries in front of God rather than welcoming the reality of God into my worries.

 

Sometimes the best thing I can do when feeling overwhelmed by anxieties is to sit, become still in my body, and offer myself to the solid, caring presence of God. I can let God be the place of solid care that supports me in the midst of my many concerns. I can learn to let the peace of Christ displace worry and to embody peace instead of continuing to rehearse my anxiety.

 

Let me conclude with a blessing I crafted to close one of the chapters in my new book:

 

May God’s empowering presence, his measureless generosity, and his great goodness be with you, seeking you before ever you seek him. And may grace bear the fruit of deep well-being, freedom from anxious care, and a soul at rest in the presence of God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen! 

 

For Reflection:

As you reflect on Jesus’s words in the Gospels about birds and flowers, how does recognizing God's care for them challenge your own perspective on anxiety and worry?
Recall the metaphor of being like a mountain amidst passing weather. How might this metaphor help you navigate moments of anxiety in your own life?

UL #295: Love's Ultimate Sacrifice: Unveiling God's Heart in the Crucifixion (Alan & Gem with Brian Zahnd)

 

The cross is the heart of Scripture.

 

Everything about the gospel message leads to the cross, and proceeds from the cross. In fact, within the narrative of Scripture, the crucifixion of Jesus is literally the crux of the story―the axis upon which the biblical story turns. But it would be a mistake to think we could sum up the significance of the crucifixion in a tidy sentence or two. 

 

That kind of thinking only insulates us from the magnificence of what God has done. In our ongoing quest to make meaning of the cross, we need to recognize that this conversation will never conclude―that there is always something more to be said.

 

In his book, The Wood Between the Worlds, Brian Zahnd reminds us that the meaning of the cross is multifaceted and touches every aspect of our lives. It is an invitation to encounter the cross of Christ anew.

 

Just as gazing through the eyepiece of a kaleidoscope reveals a new geometric image with every turn, Zahnd helps us see that there are infinite ways to behold the cross of Christ as the beautiful form that saves the world. 

 

Brian Zahnd is the founder and lead pastor of Word of Life Church in St. Joseph, Missouri. He is also a pastor-theologian who has authored eleven books, including Sinners In the Hands of a Loving God, When Everything’s on Fire, and The Wood Between the Worlds. Brian is enthusiastic about music, literature, mountains, and long-distance pilgrimages.

Unlocking the Power of Transformation

Blog by Gem Fadling

I grew up with a mom who was quite troubled. She had grown up during a time when people didn’t talk about their problems or readily receive counseling to help with their healing. She had been traumatized in various ways over the course of her early life, and this resulted in a life of fear that led to her becoming overcontrolling. As I have reflected upon her in my second half of life, I see that, considering all she went through, she did very well inside her circumstances.

 

She raised me and, along with my dad, gave me every opportunity afforded by a middle-class family. Even though I was an only child (with a sprinkling of foster siblings), my childhood was full of simple and beautiful memories: fishing in the river, swinging on homemade swings, creating art and doing crafts, playing piano, riding my horse or bike, listening to music, sledding, gardening, playdates with friends, and more.

 

Despite all the good stuff going on around me, some unhelpful emotional and relational undercurrents developed within me as a result of my mom’s unhealed parts. (Please note here that I am not blaming my mom for anything. I’m simply describing a dynamic. I’ve done the hard work of therapy and have found freedom in my adult life. I am responsible for my own feelings and actions.)

 

I learned, even as a young child, to enter a room with my relational antenna out. I believed I had to read the room--the mood, the words, and body language--to know what was going on. In my young mind, this kept me safe. If I could determine the temperature, I could make decisions about my own behavior. Mostly I tried to lift the mood of the room by being upbeat so that things might go well.

 

As children, we pick up on cues (especially nonverbal ones), adjust our behavior, and then make decisions about what to keep, what to toss out, and what to hide away. Some of us do this for a sense of safety, some for a sense of value, and others for a sense of control.

 

As a young adult I continued this practice (without knowing I was doing it, of course). I was still under the impression that all the relational and emotional cues I was collecting were serving me well by keeping me safe.

 

I was not aware, however, of the emotional, physical, and psychological toll this was taking on me. But that’s the “fun” of midlife—you get to come face to face with the things that aren’t working any longer. And if you are intentional, you can come to terms with your inner dynamics (sometimes with the help of a good therapist and a spiritual director) and find release and healing from all that you unintentionally picked up in the first half of life.

 

That said, this discussion is really about redemption. You see, what was overwhelming and unhealthy in the first half of life can be identified, moved through, healed, and transformed.

 

These days, traces of the unhelpful antenna still emerge from time to time. But I can catch myself faster and I have tools to help me. And my ability to focus on others has been transformed. It now looks more like paying attention, listening deeply, focusing, and being present.

 

People often comment on how focused, non-anxious, and present I feel to them. That is the transforming gift of the Spirit. I take no credit for this dynamic except to say that I consented to and participated in the transforming work of the Spirit in many and various ways.

 

When I was young, I practiced looking at someone else to determine how to keep myself safe. Now, I practice looking at someone else to hold sacred space for them so that they might feel safe in God’s presence.

 

Romans 8:28 says that “all things work together for good.” This is a phrase that has been used and abused in many Christian conversations. The cavalier use of this verse is often like slapping a Band-Aid on a severed limb. However, I think in this instance it can be a beautiful place to enjoy the richness of what it might really mean.

 

God redeems that which is broken, lost, or dysfunctional. Over time, my unhealthy antenna has been transformed into a renewed practice of presence, focus, and care. This is the work of the Kingdom. And this is the journey I love.

 

Some Christians talk about conversion as a one-time event. But we are all being converted over our entire lifetime into the likeness of Christ. Conversion is long and slow and messy because it’s a change in nature. The question is, are you aware of and cooperating with the God-initiated process?

 

“Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.” (Romans 12:1-2)

 

“Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.” (2 Cor. 3:17-18)

 

Notice in these two passages that transformation is in the passive voice. We “are being transformed.” Even though the language is passive, the relationship and dynamic are not. Making ourselves intentionally and cooperatively available to this transformation is central.

 

We don’t do this for selfish or self-centered reasons. A healthy self is what allows us to serve others well. Our formation matters to our leadership, our relationships, and our work.

 

Let’s reflect for a moment. It might be good to ponder, pray, or journal through these questions. 

How are you remaining open to the transformational process of God in your life?
What early childhood dynamics have been (or could be) redeemed for this current season of your life?
What support might you need in order to move to greater healing?

UL #294: Focus vs. Distraction: Unpacking the Mary & Martha Story (Gem)

 

In the retelling of the Mary and Martha story, many inadvertently pit these sisters against each another. We are forced to make a choice: “I’m a Mary” or, more regularly I hear, “I’m a Martha.” As though these women were tropes or types on a personality test. 

 

This is unfortunate, because then we are drawn to take sides and defend one or the other. Our own identity becomes wrapped up in one woman or another.

 

Before I  unpack this further, I’ll give you the spoiler: This story isn’t about busy people and lazy people. We are ALL invited to follow the example of Mary and focus on the one thing of Jesus.