Alan Fadling's Blog, page 15

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.

The Journey to Peace: Overcoming Anxiety in Mind, Body, and Spirit

Blog by Alan Fadling

We can practice the peace of Christ to displace anxiety in us.

 

Sometimes anxiety rises in my thoughts, emotions, and body as an overwhelming wave. I’m tempted in such moments to let myself be overcome--immobilized by anxiety. Or I may allow anxiety to chase me away from what God has given me to do. I’ve even let anxiety drive me to ways of working in which I seem to be only thinly aware that God is with me as I work.

 

I’ve been learning over time that anxiety can become embedded in my mind, my emotions, even my body. But I’ve also been learning that the peace of Christ can displace anxiety in me. I can learn to let the peace of Christ protect me from anxious worry in the midst of my many concerns.

 

Anxiety has been my relentless companion for as long as I can remember. The word “companion” makes it sound like anxiety was a friend. I’ve come to think that my anxiety is what love looks like when God is quite faint in my thinking, my intentions, my awareness.

 

When God’s love for me, for those I care about, and for what I care about grows thin in my awareness, then my cares have a way of expanding into overwhelming worries.

 

I’ve always been a thinking-oriented person. Some of that is my nature. Some of it is a fruit of my development over the years. And much of it has been the fruit of my adult formation. The formation of my inner life was too often driven by anxiety rather than being rooted in peace.

 

If you’re familiar with the Enneagram, I’m a Five. I’ve joked that I’m a Five with two Five wings. I know that isn’t how the Enneagram works, but I identify quite strongly with the dynamics of a Five. At my healthiest, I can see things with perspective and help others understand. At my unhealthiest, I can be a detached observer disconnected from the good realities that surround me.

 

One of the weaknesses that I share with many other fellow Fives is that I can think about things rather than feel them. Or think about things rather than do them. Or think about people rather than love them. Thinking about something can be a great place to begin, but it usually isn’t a great place to stay.

 

The way that has played out in the past is that I’ve often tried to address my anxiety mostly as a thought exercise. I’ve memorized scripture passages about worry and rehearsed them. I’ve journaled my worries and responded to them thoughtfully. While this has been good in some respects, it wasn’t usually as helpful as I’d hoped.

 

What I’ve learned by experience is that anxiety has found a way of soaking into my physical body. I have embodied anxiety in a brain full of racing thoughts, a stomach that is prone to butterflies, and shoulders that become as tense as rocks. Thinking about the anxiety that has become embedded in my physical body hasn’t been a way into peace for me.

 

I’ve been learning to let peace begin to displace anxiety in my body. In addition to thinking well, it helps to practice certain disciplines that engage my body with the peace of God that is always with me.

 

In A Non-Anxious Life, I tell several stories about how disruptions of my travel plans when I’m away from home are among my most anxiety-producing experiences. I really dislike feeling out of control. I’m guessing you do too.

 

When I’m traveling and something happens to disrupt my plans, I have often felt an overwhelming anxiety that shuts down my creative thinking capacities and puts me in instinct mode. I begin feeling in my body like I am in mortal danger. I’m not actually, but apparently my body doesn’t know that.

 

What I came to realize is that I can lean into the peace of God that is always with me right in the middle of anxious thoughts, feelings, and sensations. I can slow and deepen my breathing, imagining that I am inhaling the peaceful presence of God and exhaling anxiety.

 

I’ve been learning to let the simple truth of a line of scripture—for example, “The Lord is my shepherd, I will not be in want”—speak not only to my thinking but to my physical body. I can let myself move from the idea of the Lord as my Shepherd to letting the Lord shepherd me in the midst of my anxiety. This is more than thinking about my anxiety. It is allowing the peace of Christ to displace anxiety at the center of my physical being.

 

I’m on a journey from intellectualizing peace to embodying it, from being overwhelmed by anxiety to being embraced by the loving presence of God. I’m being guided toward a life less anxious, more grounded, and deeply rooted in peace. It’s a journey that I hope we are on together.

 

For Reflection:

In what ways do you identify with my habit of thinking about something as a way of avoiding feeling or doing? Are there other ways you avoid engaging what God is inviting you into? Why not talk with God about this?

 

UL #293: The Art of Prayerfulness (Alan with Fr. Albert Haase)

 

What do we mean when we talk about the importance of prayer? What is prayer? Is it mainly the words we say to God about our concerns, our needs, our hopes, our desires? What is the difference, if any, between saying prayers and being prayerful? 

 

Today, I’m sharing a conversation with a wise Franciscan priest who has been practicing prayerfulness for over 50 years. 

 

Albert Haase, OFM, is a preacher, teacher, and spiritual director. A former missionary to mainland China for over eleven years, he is the award-winning author of ten books on popular spirituality and the presenter on five bestselling DVDs. He holds a PhD in historical theology from Fordham University and an MDiv from Catholic Theological Union. He is currently serving as chaplain at Cedarbrake Retreat Center near Austin, Texas.

Trust Tested

Blog by Gem Fadling

In her book Traveling Mercies, Anne Lamott shares how the story of Abraham and Isaac caught her attention and led her to take the leap into her own faith journey. The reality and authenticity of Abraham's belief and his trust in God's provision compelled her. It led me to ponder and process that moment in Abraham's life.

 

At an age beyond childbearing, Abraham and Sarah had been given a promise of descendants greater in number than the stars. More time passed before the original promise was fulfilled in the birth of Isaac. God kept his word to Abraham and Sarah.

 

Then came the moment in Genesis 22 when God checked in on Abraham's heart.

 

In verse 2, God says to Abraham, “Take your son, your only son, whom you love—Isaac—and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on a mountain I will show you.”

 

Abraham willingly obeyed the instruction to sacrifice the fulfilled promise, his own son. His impossible son, born to a woman well past the age of childbearing! I cannot imagine what this felt like.

 

This level of invitation took Abraham to his deepest place through the ultimate test of trust. God was not messing around. And Abraham proved the sheer faith and trust that were in his heart.

 

As father and son walked together to the place of sacrifice, Isaac, the fulfilled promise, asked a question: “The fire and wood are here,” Isaac said, “but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?” And in verse 8, Abraham answered, “God himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering, my son.”

 

If we imagine ourselves in Abraham’s sandals, what level of trust might emerge from our own deep place? Ask yourself, How far would I go in sacrificing that which I hold most dear?

 

The lengths I go to will match my level of trust.

 

I have a very personal connection with this particular passage of scripture. Many years ago when I was in my mid-twenties, Alan and I had been married for a few years and were trying to build our family. I had already had one miscarriage and we had been trying for a few years to get pregnant again with no success.

 

One particular evening, when I arrived at church for our regular midweek gathering, I found myself quite disturbed and angry. I was so emotional that I could not stay, so I informed Alan that I was heading home. At the center of my frustration was my inability to get pregnant.

 

As I drove home, a worship song echoed from the speakers in my car: “When Praise Demands a Sacrifice” by Larnelle Harris. It tells the story of Abraham and Isaac and the sacrifice that God asked of Abraham.

 

As tears streamed down my face, I realized my inability to get pregnant was affecting my relationship with God. I didn't want there to be anything more important to me than God. And so, in my own way, I let go of my dream. And even at that young age, I had a sense of freedom and peace as my trust took a leap into the depths.

 

I want to be very careful here. I am not saying that it is not OK to get angry about an unfulfilled desire. It is good to feel and express our actual emotions. I'm also not saying that it's not OK to get angry with God. All we have to do is look into the Psalms and see people being all levels of angry and frustrated with God. We have emotions and we get to express them toward healing.

 

What I am saying is that, for me, at that point in my life, it seemed important for me to allow God to rise above the fray of my disappointment. My growth was to not allow my circumstances to dictate my contentment, happiness, or sense of being loved and cared for. My trust and my faith grew, and I have been able to build on that trust since then.

 

The great news is that shortly thereafter I became a mother to three amazing and wonderful sons. I am grateful for them. And I am thankful that I was able to release them into the hands of God even before they were born.

 

I know that not all stories end like mine. Some of you are still waiting for something you are truly longing for. And I honor and respect your journey. But an infinitely important question arose for me on the drive home that night: Is anyone or anything more important to me than God?

 

At this level of thought there can be no room for legalism or shoulds or have-tos or oughts. This question goes out beyond the measuring sticks. This question is all about relationship, and it deals with the heart.

 

Who do I believe God to be? Harsh judge? Withholding parent? Unjust boss? Or the Wonderful Counselor, the Helper, the Good Shepherd, the Prince of Peace?

 

So, at whatever level you are able to at this point in time, ask yourself the following questions: 

Is anyone or anything more important to me than God?
If I could borrow the faith of Abraham, what level of trust might emerge from my own deep place?
How far would I go in sacrificing that which I hold dear, in a spirit of loving trust?

 

As you ponder these questions, I’ll leave you with the words of Exodus 34:6-7:

 “The Lord, the Lord, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin.”

 

God will provide.

UL #292: Discovering the Security of a Life Held by God (Gem with Summer Joy Gross)

 

God's face is always shining toward us. Our God is not asleep, nor indifferent. But we don't always experience this nearness or the depth of how beloved we truly are--especially if we have experienced neglect, betrayal, or indifference in our formative human relationships.

 

In her book, The Emmanuel Promise, Summer Joy Gross acts as a nurturing guide, as she helps us make our way to the transformative dynamics of presence, attachment and God’s love. Together, we’ll discover the Security of a Life Held by God.

 

Summer Joy Gross (MDiv, Virginia Theological Seminary) is an Anglican priest, retreat leader, and spiritual director whose work is guided by the belief that our stories can be transformed by God's invitation to make his love our home base. She is associate faculty of spiritual formation and the art of spiritual direction at the Healing Care Ministries' spiritual direction school. She is the host of The Presence Podcast and lives in North Georgia with her husband and their three teenagers.

Unmasking Anxiety (Part 2)

Blog by Alan Fadling

Two weeks ago, I shared three faces of anxiety based on ways I’ve come to recognize it and address it in my own experience. Today we’ll look at the other three faces of anxiety I alluded to there.

 

Anxiety is like (1) a broken warning light and (2) an attempt at time travel, and it functions much like (3) a conspiracy theory.

 

 

A Broken Warning Light 

Gem and I have worked in the nonprofit world most of our adult lives. For nearly twenty years, I served on the staff of a local church as a youth pastor, college pastor, family pastor, or some other associate pastoral position. Since 1998, we’ve served religious nonprofit organizations focused on spiritual formation and leadership development—most recently our eight years under the umbrella of Unhurried Living.

 

Nonprofits are largely funded by the generous donations of faithful partners, and one kind of donation we received in the early years of our work was used vehicles. They were usually older model cars in their last season of life—and our family would often be driving one of those vehicles.

 

One day, the red check engine light came on when one of our sons was driving. We took the old car to our mechanic to have him figure out what was wrong. A few days later, he called to say that he’d run every diagnostic he could think of, but nothing resolved the engine light. His opinion was that the computer itself was malfunctioning and that replacing it on such an old vehicle was not worth the cost.

 

He recommended that for as long as we owned the car, we simply continue driving it with that light stuck on. We’d just have to get used to a warning light that was wrong.

 

I think the red-light indicator of my own habitual anxiety is like that check engine light. It comes on, often stays on, and warns me of some major problem that may not even exist. It claims to be warning me of a problem, but it may itself be the problem.

 

 

Attempting Time Travel 

My anxiety rarely has me living in the present moment. It wants me to use the present to worry about the past or about the future.

 

Anxiety has me ruminating about something that has already happened, or it projects doomsday scenarios about what will probably happen in the near or distant future. In other words, anxiety invites me to do the impossible: time travel.

 

I can’t relive a past moment. I can’t live a future moment in advance. I can only live in the present. Grace and peace are only present to me here and now. And anxiety doesn’t much like that sort of security or well-being. It much prefers that I live insecure and in a scarcity mindset. But that’s just not what the kingdom of God is like.

 

Anxiety also pretends to be a prophet predicting the future. But as many times as anxiety has gotten things wrong, it’s clearly a false prophet. It’s a good thing I’m learning to turn my attention away from the frantic advice of anxiety and instead turn it toward the peaceful counsel of Jesus.

 

 

A Conspiracy Theory 

A conspiracy theory is rooted in how enticing it is to have inside knowledge that most other people don’t have. We know something most people don’t know! Any evidence that supports the conspiracy is trusted and embraced. Any evidence that contradicts the theory is rejected as part of the conspiracy.  

 

Anxiety does that. It claims to have evidence about how bad the future will be. An unpleasant surprise in the present will inevitably lead to disastrous outcomes if we don’t frantically worry and ruminate and find a way to take control of the future. (The fact that such control isn’t actually possible doesn’t seem to deter anxiety much.)

 

The love of God, the grace of Christ, and the communion of the Holy Spirit breaks into these constrictive conspiracy loops and frees us to live in peace and well-being. Anxiety boasts great wisdom, but anxiety is wrong on so many counts. Here are a few statements that are much more true:

 

Jesus will never leave me and will never desert me.

 

I have a Good Shepherd who is always with me. I am not going to find myself in a situation of desperate want. Goodness and mercy are going to follow me every step of the path ahead.

 

That same Good Shepherd will provide for me even in the presence of my enemies.

 

No conspiracy theory of anxiety can do any of these things for me.

 

These six faces of anxiety have been a helpful way of right-sizing its presence in my life. I’ve learned that Jesus really is right about how unproductive and unhelpful my anxious worry is. I have a Father in heaven who cares for me even more than he cares for the creation that surrounds me. I am special because I belong to him.

 

Bad things will happen, but I am never alone in them. God is always with me, even when I struggle to discern his presence. Anything I could do driven by anxiety, I could do a lot better led by peace.

 

For Reflection:

What roles has anxiety played in your own journey? When has it driven you? When has it hindered or even blocked you? How would you like to talk with Jesus about this?

UL #291: Overcoming Hurry Sickness: The Virus of Anxiety

 

I’ve written and said plenty about the problem of hurry in our lives and in our world. There is a condition called hurry sickness, which is the feeling of always being rushed as though you were lagging behind in some race. This raises our stress levels. A sense that we don’t have enough time for everything we have to do is a sign of hurry sickness. We can end up feeling increasing frustration with anyone or anything that gets in the way of what you have to do. Multitasking is one of our strategies to somehow boost productivity, at least in the short-term. But the long-term costs can be pretty high for our present hurry. 

 

In this episode and a couple of future ones this season, I’m going to talk about core drivers of hurry that I’ve been addressing in my own life since I wrote An Unhurried Life. Today, in the spirit of my new book A Non-Anxious Life, I’ll unpack how anxiety drives hurry in our lives. 

UL #290: 6 Verses to Foster Spiritual Formation

 

For the last few years I have enjoyed meeting with women in coaching groups 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.

 

A while 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, Jesus and the process of being transformed. I’d like to share these passages with you today.

From Information to Transformation: A Gracious Path to Growth

Blog by Gem Fadling

I recently listened to the Parable of the Sower from Mark 4:1-9. I love listening to scripture. It hits me differently when it comes through my ears and not through my eyes by reading.

 

Let’s begin by reading it together:

 

Again [Jesus] began to teach beside the sea. Such a very large crowd gathered around him that he got into a boat on the sea and sat there, while the whole crowd was beside the sea on the land. He began to teach them many things in parables, and in his teaching he said to them: “Listen! A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seed fell on a path, and the birds came and ate it up. Other seed fell on rocky ground, where it did not have much soil, and it sprang up quickly, since it had no depth of soil. And when the sun rose, it was scorched, and since it had no root it withered away. Other seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it, and it yielded no grain. Other seed fell into good soil and brought forth grain, growing up and increasing and yielding thirty and sixty and a hundredfold.” And he said, “If you have ears to hear, then hear!” (Mark 4:1-9 NRSV)

 

You’ve likely heard a hundred sermons on this passage, and I’m guessing it’s been meaningful to you over the years. Today, I’d like to engage the four types of soil reflectively and not descriptively. Let’s engage a soul-level check-in.

 

I’m a practitioner at heart. I’ve heard sermons, attended workshops, and studied extensively. But what good is mere information without actual transformation? It is important to prioritize our growth, our soul-health. This affects all that we do.

 

The soils that Jesus talks about in this parable are wonderful descriptors that can help us look within. Certainly, Jesus is talking about the kinds of people who hear his words and how they might or might not act on them. But, in a way, all those types can be within us at any given time. I’ve certainly had a hardened heart or a stressed and distracted mind. Haven’t you?

 

There is no judgment here. No shame. Just a check-in.

 

Let’s name the soils like this: 

Hard: crusty, unyielding
Rootless: shallow, burning out, withering
Thorny: distracted, choked, pressed
Good: healthy, vibrant, thriving

 

Growth doesn’t happen by chance. We make progress by seeing and acknowledging where we are and where we’d like to be. Yes, we are being transformed by God…AND it’s good for us to remain open, aware, and willing to change.

 

That’s why I like to be graciously ruthless with myself. How curious and honest can I be about where I am in my growth process? Freedom begins with awareness.

 

I’m going to walk us through a reflection. My guess is you don’t have time right this minute to engage this fully, but you can allow some helpful thoughts to surface as you read/listen.

 

I invite you to make some space at lunch today or another day this week. Give yourself the gift of self-knowledge. It’s a wonderful starting place of growth.

 

Using the example of the soils, let’s do a little reflecting. You may not connect with all of the soils right now, but one likely stands out to you in your current season. Keep the other reflection questions in your pocket for future thought.

 

Hard: crusty, unyielding 

In what area of your life do you notice a hard crust encasing your heart? It may feel as if nothing can get through and you’ve lost a sense of buoyancy.
Describe this sensation and notice your thoughts about it.
What behaviors or wounds might have led to this hardening?
How might you open to a more softened posture?
Share this with God in prayer.

 

Rootless: shallow, burning out, withering 

In what area of your life do you sense a withering of spirit, an inability for things to take root and thrive?
Describe what this feels like.
Ponder what may have occurred over time that led you to this place.
What discerned action might lead to deeper roots?
Share this with God in prayer.

 

Thorny: distracted, choked, pressed 

In what area of your life do you feel distracted, overwhelmed, or pressed down?
Describe the dynamic and the consequences you are noticing.
What circumstances, thoughts, or behaviors led to this place?
What might aim you toward freedom?
Share this with God in prayer.

 

Good: healthy, vibrant, thriving 

In what area of your life do you feel healthy, vibrant, and thriving?
Describe what this feels like.
Reflect on how you might have come to this place.
How might you sustain this growth or continue to build upon it?
Share this with God in prayer.

 

Remember, whatever you noticed can be looked at and engaged. This takes a level of courage, but I believe in your ability to make your way.

 

One thing I know about our Unhurried Living community is that you take seriously your relationship with God and your own formation.

 

I empathize with how difficult it is to be honest with yourself about the soil of your heart. Don’t be discouraged. This is good information, and now you have a way to pray and connect with God that will take you deeper into trust and freedom.

 

If anything came up for you that might need some support, remember, we have a team of pastors, coaches, and spiritual directors who can walk alongside you. You can go to ul.com/associates to learn more and get the help you need.

 

Blessings to you as you make your way. 

 

Photo by Francesco Gallarotti on Unsplash