My postmodern son

Mowgli is getting ready to go to Austin City Limits this weekend. He thinks he has died and gone to heaven! As we were discussing it, he said in total seriousness, with a great deal of bewilderment in his voice, "It's weird, but I've noticed that when it comes to music, you and dad and Boo really like melody."

Having too much time on my hands

We have a leak in the front yard and so we had to call a plumber. The plumber is English, his company is named "Union Jack Plumbing" and--get this--the sign on the truck says, "The British are plumbing, the British are plumbing." I laughed so hard!

Mother Teresa's faith

The media has been very interested in Mother Teresa lately and the revelation that she struggled mightily to hold on to her faith, even her conviction about the very existence of God. Although some have labeled her a hypocrite, most seem alternately puzzled and pleased that a modern-day saint would question her relationship with God while never releasing her hold on a sacred calling. I'm pretty sure that most people of faith smiled wryly at the news and said to themselves, "Well, yes. Of course. Nothing so dramatic there."

Mowgli, who is something of a Christian agnostic (he can identify more of what he doesn't believe than what he does at this point, but retains a basic love for Jesus), was very excited by the news. One of his great complaints about church (and there are many) is that it has always felt inauthentic to him--people claiming to experience God in ways that seemed to him to be better explained by psychology or wishful thinking, or worse, emotional manipulation. So, the recent revelations about Mother Teresa have given him new enthusiasm about his own faith and doubt and commitment to mysticism as a spiritual path. I imagine that's true for many people.

There are a couple of things that have captured my attention, though. As I've read some of the excerpts of Mother Teresa's letters, I've noticed that she has a personality that seems to lend itself to narcissism and grandiosity. She describes wanting to love Jesus as no one has ever loved him before, to achieve things in his name that are beyond human comprehension. I think it makes sense, then, that her own sins seem to her to be worse than anyone else's, that her struggles to feel God's presence seem to her to go beyond what others experience.

As I read the excerpts, I think I also detected a certain amount of self-rejection--as if Christian self-denial meant denying herself even the comforts of faith. She sees herself at times as helping Jesus to carry out the work on the cross by remaining in a state of being forsaken by God.

The other thing is a little more personal. Back in May, while we were staying in the little apartment, I realized while talking with a friend that my life with God had recently felt more alive, a little easier. The doubt that always grips me seemed to have me by the ankle instead of by the throat. I understood intuitively that my easier faith was related somehow to not working every day--less busyness, more time for contemplation, for example. But I realized in a flash of deep awareness that what had changed was my daily exposure to the deep suffering of hurting people. I had never realized what a heavy burden that was for my faith to carry and how weary I had become.

So, I would never compare myself to Mother Teresa but I do have great sympathy for her. I, too, can be very narcissistic in my faith and in my doubt. I can try to help Jesus save me and others by denying myself forgiveness and consolation. And I sometimes find the enormous pain and suffering in the world to stand like an ominous sentry between me and faith, denying me entrance.

I am not at all surprised to know that Mother Teresa suffered in her quest to know God, only sad that she was not able to find comfort in it, sad that her requests for privacy were not honored, and sad that many have judged her harshly. I feel great mercy for her. I believe God does, too.

This is the Scripture that has been floating in my mind and heart for a few weeks, ever since reading Brennan Manning's book:

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

I love the richness and the abundance--a God who is compassionate AND gracious, abounding in love AND faithfulness, forgiving wickedness AND rebellion AND sin. I can sense in this verse that I will never come to the end of God's goodness.

Message from a sad happy person

When I wrote my last post, I was deeply disappointed and very sad. I was lonely for all of you and was grieving the life I had in Houston. I'm much better now.

First, I was able to talk it over with my mom (who is the world's best person to talk to, btw--you should call her!) Then C and I did some strategizing and evaluating, which restored the illusion that I'm in control here.

But the best thing was just remembering what I believe--most specifically, that I really do believe that the gap between the preferred outcome and current reality--what we call "creative tension"--really is a very good place to be. I'm not much of a risk-taker and I don't particularly like tension--even the creative kind--so it's easy for me to forget what I believe about this.

(Of course, I am doing my best to resist the temptations of this particular journey--the temptation to close the gap by either compromising on the preferred outcome or minimizing my current reality. And in exchange, for my efforts, I get to have lots of anxiety! But I'm sure it's very creative anxiety . . . )

As kc noted in her comment, creativity flourishes in chaos. And, fortunately, as rob pointed out, I really am a very happy person. But don't stop praying for me, OK?

Happiness is not a math problem

People smarter than I am say that happiness can be quantified as a ratio of expectation to reality--that is, what you expect to happen divided by what actually happens. By that definition, I am not happy.

I expected that I would be working by now. I expected to come to Austin and fit in pretty seamlessly with a counseling group. I expected that the people I wanted to work with would want me to work with them. I expected that my denomination would be happy to have me. I expected that I would work with sharp people in a quality organization. I expected to be moving forward today, not backward. I expected that it would be easy.

I can see now that some of my expectations were grandiose and others were unrealistic. Some were reasonable, though, even though they aren't being met.

Now I have to figure out what I want, given the reality of my options. I need to lean into the creative tension in this gap between my desired outcome and my current reality and let it work for me. Ask God to give me wisdom.

Keeping you posted

We've had such a restful weekend that I'm practically in a coma. Mmmmm . . . I'm going to rouse myself enough to catch you up on the latest of my professional forays.

I've done lots and lots of research and have been contacting counselors and counseling centers for a few weeks now, garnering a few interviews along the way. The funny thing is that the group that I thought I would instantly mesh with--they would want me and I would want them--never even got back to me, even after an enthusiastic interview with a board member. Turns out that's okay--based on what I'm hearing third-hand, that might not be a good fit.

I've also learned that counselor-types aren't necessarily very good listeners--surprised and frustrated me how hard I had to work to break through the assumptions they brought to our meetings--meetings that were supposed to be informal and exploratory. A couple of times I just gave up, listening to someone go on and on about the problems they were experiencing in their organization, knowing that in many ways I would be able to help with those problems, but unable to get a word in edgewise to say so. Smile and handshake and move on.

I have had one firm offer from another denomination, but the organization seems disorganized and without focus. Someone told me that their reputation is "rudderless" and that certainly fit my experience with them. I haven't turned it down yet, though, just in case. A second group really, really, really impressed me and they expressed real interest . . . but there's just one catch: they have made an agreement not to hire anyone new until May. A third group also really impressed me and also expressed real interest and even offered to give me their therapist training for free (I've always wanted to take it but never did.) I may do some work for them part-time. They are very sharp but they only do one thing and my personal sense of mission is broader than that.

Which brings me to the latest . . . On Thursday, I made a proposal to the local association of my denomination after discussing it at some length with the executive director. He is taking my proposal to the governing board on Tuesday and will let me know of their response on Wednesday. Essentially, I have proposed a situation in which I create my own job, keep my own fees, and have the whole region as a ministry focus. Preparing for the meeting with this executive helped me gain more clarity and focus than I have ever had about my calling and mission and if my proposal is accepted, I will be able to lean into each of the areas to which I feel called. (I also think it would be a good deal for them as well, by the way.)

So maybe in a few days, I will have some idea of what I'll be doing professionally. Or some idea of what I won't be doing. Either way, it's about to wrap up, I think. I'll keep you posted.