Desire

My lovely friend Corinne and I, shortly after completing our first clinical internships in 2010. She is the friend/colleague mentioned in this sermon, and I am still grateful for her listening ear and good advice! 

I have many updates about racing and training, which I will try to post within the next couple of days. First, though: a sermon!

I preached this at my home church, St. Andrew's UMC in Edgewater, MD last Sunday, 8/12/12. This sermon came from a very different writing process than previous sermons. Normally, I look up a sermon text at least a month in advance, sometimes even more. Then, I spend a few weeks just thinking about it. Sooner or later, an idea emerges about what I have to say about the text. I try to start actually writing a minimum of two weeks in advance, because I find that my best sermons come when I write a little, think, and then write some more.

Not this time. As I have mentioned in sermons before, I choose to preach using the lectionary (for an explanation of that, click here.) At least 90% of the time, this feels like a good idea. This summer, however, is part of that 10% of times when I find myself asking why I insist on making things hard for myself. For reasons beyond my comprehension, this year's lectionary cycle includes a stretch of four weeks where the Gospel lesson is basically the same every week. This year, from July 29th-August 19th, every week's Gospel lesson is from John, chapter 6, and they are all about how Jesus is "the Bread of Life." What's even more fun is that (in my opinion) the readings get less interesting and more repetitive every single week. For the first two weeks, we get stories. John tells a story and the crux of the story is "Jesus is the bread of life." For the second two weeks, the stories disappear. Instead, we get readings where Jesus spends 10 or 15 verses saying "I am the bread of life. Come to me and never be hungry, because I am the bread of life. Have I mentioned that I am the bread of life? Bread of life." (I'm paraphrasing here, but not by much.)

Why does the lectionary do this? I have no idea. An optimist might say that the bread of life message is so important we need to hear it four times. Someone more cynical might point out that church attendance drops in the summer, so repeating the lesson four times ensures that most church members will hear it at least once.

Now, I really can't complain too much about this, because I only had to preach on these readings once. My very hard-working and talented friends who are full-time clergy had to preach on these readings for four weeks in a row. Bless them. However, I will complain just a little that I got assigned to preach in week three of this cycle. By week three, pretty much everything that can be said about the bread of life has already been said... which brings me to my writing process.

When I sat down in church on July 29th, I already had a working draft of my August 12th sermon in my head. I knew I was preaching on the bread of life, and that the phrase "never be hungry" was in the text. At that point, I was a week into my latest round of Weight Watchers and struggling with constant hunger. BOOM! Metaphor! Physical hunger vs. spiritual hunger. I knew exactly where to go with that... and, apparently, so did my pastor. That morning, he stepped up to the pulpit and delivered the sermon I had mentally drafted. What's more, he delivered it well. Curses. Back to the drawing board.

A busy 10 days or so passed, and suddenly I found myself at August 8th without a word of my August 12th sermon written. I had a kernel of an idea in my head, but I was unsure about it because (a) it was very confessional, and (b) I wasn't sure it would make sense to anyone but me. By August 11th, I knew I had to use my risky kernel of an idea because I had nothing else. I sat down that afternoon to write, thinking I would be working until 1 or 2am. A mere three or four hours later (before dinner!), I was finished. This sermon practically wrote itself. And I like it. And the church liked it.

So, maybe the people who compiled the lectionary knew what they were doing!


John 6:35, 41-51
35Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty… 41Then the Jews began to complain about him because he said, “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” 42They were saying, “Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, ‘I have come down from heaven’?” 43Jesus answered them, “Do not complain among yourselves. 44No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father who sent me; and I will raise that person up on the last day.45It is written in the prophets, ‘And they shall all be taught by God.’ Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me.46Not that anyone has seen the Father except the one who is from God; he has seen the Father. 47Very truly, I tell you, whoever believes has eternal life. 48I am the bread of life. 49Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. 50This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. 51I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”


Desire:
John 6:35, 41-51

Three years ago, before I met my fiance Andrew, I dated a man who was interested in Buddhism. He was longing for a more spiritual life, and he thought Buddhism might be the right path for him. Given the fact that I’m standing here right now, it probably won’t surprise you that I’m pretty interested in religion myself, and not just Christianity. I wasn’t interested in converting to Buddhism, but I was certainly interested in learning about it. So, for several months, I read about Buddhism too.

I know that Pastor Dave has an interest in Buddhism, because he’s mentioned it in several sermons over the years. He’s even brought in a Buddha statue as a visual aid. Pastor Dave recognizes that Buddhism is its own distinct religion, with its own distinct history, beliefs, and practices. Still, he sees a lot in Buddhism that’s relevant to Christianity.

Having done my own reading about Buddhism, I can understand where Pastor Dave is coming from. Buddhism is not Christianity, but there are many Buddhist teachings that sound a lot like Jesus’ teachings. This week’s Gospel reading is a prime example. For the past few weeks, we’ve been hearing Gospel readings from John about the Bread of Life. Our lectionary has reminded us over and over again that the food of this world is limited. Often, we don’t have enough of it to feed everyone. And even those who do get enough to eat are only satisfied for a short time. No matter how much we eat the food of this world, we will always be hungry again. Our lectionary has also taught us that the Bread of Life is different. Jesus offers a kind of nourishment that will satisfy us forever. Even better, the spiritual bread that Jesus offers is unlimited. There is enough and more than enough for everyone in the world.

By this point, after hearing these readings for weeks, the message should be clear: striving after the things of this world- indulging our worldly hungers- will never bring us true and lasting satisfaction. We can only find that kind of satisfaction by striving for something beyond this world. Matthieu Ricard, a modern-day Buddhist monk, defines “happiness” as “a deep sense of flourishing that arises from an exceptionally healthy mind. This is not a mere pleasurable feeling, a fleeting emotion, or a mood, but an optimal state of being.” To me, that sounds an awful lot like what Jesus is talking about when he talks about the Bread of Life: a soul-deep satisfaction that can last forever, completely different from the momentary pleasure we get from worldly things.

When I read about Buddhism, this was one of the ideas that really resonated with me. There are many different schools of thought within Buddhism, but almost all agree that striving after worldly things is a sure route to unhappiness. As human beings, we all have wishes and wants. We might want to make more money, or buy some nice furniture, or lose some weight. There’s nothing wrong with wanting these things, but we get into trouble when we convince ourselves that having those things will bring lasting happiness. What actually happens when we get what we want?

How many of us have gotten a raise and then increased our spending so that we used up the raise and then some? What happens then? We decide we need another raise! Or how many of us have saved up and bought a new sofa? What happens when we bring it home? We put it in the living room and sit down on it feeling satisfied… and then we take a look around and notice a few things. The brand-new, nice sofa sure does make our old coffee table look lousy. And it really brings out flaws in our paint job or the stains on our rug. The next thing we know, we have to redecorate the whole room! And what about losing that weight? As most of you know, I’ve been on that journey with Weight Watchers for almost 10 years now. During that time, I’ve seen a lot of overweight, lonely people with unhappy lives make some dramatic changes. I’ve met people who lost 50lbs, 100lbs, and more. I’ve also seen many of those people learn the hard way that losing weight only changed one thing: how they looked on the outside. Once the weight comes off, these people realize that they still have a lot of hard work to do in order to change how they feel on the inside. Losing weight turns out to be only one step on a long road to true happiness and peace.

Matthieu Ricard, the Buddhist monk, describes a person caught up in an endless cycle of wants this way: “If I have more than I could possibly need and I am still not happy, happiness must be impossible… Living on a pendulum between hope and doubt, excitement and boredom, desire and weariness, it’s easy to fritter away our lives, bit by bit, without even noticing, running all over the place and getting nowhere.” I think we can all look around our world today and see countless people living this way. I suspect that we can all look at our own lives and find times when we live this way. And I’m sure the fact that we’re all taking the time to be here at church this morning means that we want to do things differently. We want to find a higher purpose for our lives.

So how do we do it? Some Buddhists argue that our biggest problem as human beings is desire, and the answer is acceptance. As long as we want, we’ll never be happy with what we have. One of the wisest sayings I read in a Buddhist book is this: “Those whom summer’s heat tortures yearn for the full moon of autumn, Without even fearing the idea that a hundred days of their life will then have passed forever.” When we focus all of our attention on what we want in the future, we miss out on all of the blessings of the present. I think Jesus is saying the same thing when he tells us not to worry about what we will eat or wear because God will provide for us just as he provides for the lilies and the sparrow. Jesus wants us to stop worrying about what we may or may not get in the future. That way, we can appreciate the blessings and opportunities of the present.

Obviously, I’m very comfortable these ideas. I’m 100% persuaded that striving endlessly after momentary desires is a bad idea, and not just because Jesus and Buddha said it. I’ve seen in my own life and the lives of others that it doesn’t bring happiness, and it often has a ton of negative consequences. But there was a place in my Buddhist reading where I got stuck, and it was about desire. I accept that the desire for money and things is often dangerous, and I agree that most of us would be happier if we could live in the moment instead of endlessly worrying about the future. But is all desire bad? And should we never think about the future?

When I look at my life, many of my greatest blessings came to me because I had a desire and I focused on the future. My education is probably the best example. Growing up here in Edgewater, I always dreamed of traveling to other places, meeting new people, and learning new things. My favorite activity was reading. Through reading, I got to experience totally different people, places, and lifestyles. The fact that I loved to read and learn meant that I liked school, and I did really well there. Gradually, I figured out that school could be my ticket to the places I wanted to go. By the time I was in middle school, I was already dreaming about college. I had a vision of myself at an elite school, in a new place, surrounded by people who loved learning as much as I did. I thought going to a good college would be the beginning of a life where I could travel to interesting places, have adventures, and meet interesting people.

And you know what? I did it! I worked hard all through school and focused on my goals. I got into a great college and my dream of being with other smart, passionate people came true. I worked hard in college and after college, and I got into to graduate school at Yale- an experience that went beyond my wildest dreams. My work life hasn’t disappointed either. 20 years ago, I thought I would be some kind of globe-trotting writer or English professor. I never imagined I would be a pastoral counselor. But what do I do every day? I go to interesting places and listen to the stories of interesting people. Its not the adventure I imagined, but its definitely an adventure. I have a great life, and a good part of what led me to this life was having a desire and keeping my mind on the future.

All through my reading about Buddhism, I struggled with these questions. If desire led me to so many good things, how can it be bad? How can acceptance always be good? If I had just accepted my life the way it was when I was a child, I never would have experienced so many great things.

I found answers to these questions from some unusual teachers. My teachers weren’t Buddhist monks, or even Jesus. My teachers were the women I was counseling at that time. Back in 2009 and 2010, the time when I was engaged in my study of Buddhism, I was also engaged in my first clinical counseling internship. My clients were women who had experienced domestic violence. Talk to anyone who works in the field of domestic violence and they’ll tell you that domestic violence affects all kinds of people. I certainly found that to be true. I worked with a poor, uneducated, young white woman. I worked with a wealthy, educated, older black woman. I worked with married mothers, single women with no children, and teenagers. My clients were a diverse group, but they also had many things in common.

Pretty much all of my domestic violence center clients had a difficult, unresolved relationship somewhere in their past. Some lost a parent at an early age. Others had a parent who was distant, abusive, or unfaithful to their other parent. One lost a close friend to suicide as a teenager. Whatever their experiences, all of my clients carried around a lot of unexamined anger, guilt, and grief. Also, most of my clients had been in more than one abusive relationship. Many shared a similar experience: they escaped their first abusive relationship vowing never to be abused again. They tried to choose partners very different from their original abusers. Yet, despite their efforts, they found themselves being victims again and again. Finally, none of my clients stayed single for long. Those who had been through the harrowing process of leaving an abuser would immediately start looking for a new partner. Even those who had not left their abusive partner would confess that they had been thinking about old flames or developing an interest in someone at their work or in their neighborhood.

I found myself giving these women the same advice over and over: “Slow down. Take some time to be alone and learn about yourself. Deal with your past traumas. Become a different kind of person if you want to attract a different kind of person.” When I said these things to my clients, I often got the same answer: “But I want a relationship. I want a relationship and I want a family, so why shouldn’t I seek those things?”

I was very familiar with these pieces of advice and these responses even before I started working at the domestic violence center. I knew them from my own life. I am very fortunate in that I haven’t experienced an abusive relationship like the women I counseled. However, I did spend many years of my life focused on finding a relationship and having a family.

Throughout my 20’s, I experienced many blessings in my education, my career, and other aspects of my life. But instead of appreciating those blessings, I often focused my attention on something else that I wanted: a partner and a family. Like so many of my clients, I developed a negative pattern: I would meet someone, have a relationship for 6 months or a year, invest all of my energy in that relationship, and be devastated when it didn’t work out. Then, within a few months of each breakup, I would meet someone else and the cycle would start again. During this time, many wise friends advised me to take a break: to spend some time alone and invest some energy in other areas of my life. I would always rebut this advice with the same argument: “But I want a relationship. I want a relationship and I want a family, so why shouldn’t I seek those things?”

Finally, I think God got tired of watching me make the same mistake over and over. In 2010, while I was reading all about eradicating desire and practicing acceptance, and while I was counseling client after client to slow down and take time to herself, something happened. My boyfriend the Buddhist came to visit me one Saturday morning after his weekly meditation. He explained that he had achieved a moment of clarity and insight during his meditation: that we should break up.

As per my usual pattern, I was devastated. But that was the only part of this breakup which followed my usual pattern. By the time I went back to work on Monday morning, I knew that I needed to make a change. Before my clients arrived for the day, I sat with one of my fellow therapists, crying over the breakup, and told her that I had achieved an insight of my own. I realized that I could not be a hypocrite therapist. I could not tell client after client to take a break from dating and work on other areas of her life, and then not do the same myself. So, before my friend and colleague, I made a pledge: no dating for 6 months.

At the time, 6 months felt like an eternity. I had just turned 30 when I made this pledge and I was terrified of postponing my search for a partner. What if I didn’t meet someone in time to have children? But then, just as I advised my clients, I got invested in other areas of my life. I signed up for a challenging second-year clinical internship. I spent time fixing up my house. I joined committees here at St. Andrew’s and got my stalled ordination process moving again. I turned my on-again, off-again exercise habit into a daily commitment. Pretty soon, I felt like I was too busy for a relationship! I wound up renewing my 6 month no-dating pledge for another 6 months, and then another and another.

On the day I met Andrew, I had been single for just over 2 years. In that time, I had done what I always urged my clients to do: I had become a different kind of person. And sure enough, I attracted a different kind of person. Andrew is one of the greatest blessings to ever come into my life- the kind of blessing that can only come from God. And the path I took to meet him taught me a very valuable lesson: that God brings us blessings in God’s own time.

This reminds me of another wise teaching from a book about Buddhism. The authors encourage readers to think of our lives like newly-planted gardens. A newly-planted garden is full of seeds, but we can’t predict which ones will grow and which ones will die. We might really, really want a particular plant to grow into something great, but we can’t make it happen. We can’t reach into the ground and pull it up by force. And if we spend all of our time and energy focused on one plant, we risk neglecting the others. The best thing we can do is water and tend to all of the plants, and then wait to see which ones flourish.

In the garden of my life, I spent years trying to pull the “relationship” plant out of the ground, while neglecting all of the others. Once I stared spreading my attention around- giving some to my career, some to my spiritual life, some to my friends, some to my health- blessings started sprouting up everywhere. And the blessings I have now are not the kind that make me happy for a short time and then leave me wanting more. These are the kind that bring deep, lasting satisfaction- the Bread of Life.

I think Jesus and the Buddhists have one more valuable thing to teach us about real and lasting satisfaction: its out there, calling to us. We just need to listen. In this morning’s text, Jesus says “No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father who sent me… Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me.” This is about grace, and as United Methodists, we believe in grace. We believe that God is out there, calling to every human person, inviting us into relationship with God. All we have to do is slow down, put our endless wishes and desires aside for awhile, and listen. Why do you think Buddhists spend so much time in meditation? Why do you think Jesus spent so much time away from the crowds, alone, in prayer?

God knows that we long for deep, abiding happiness and peace, and God will guide us on our journeys to achieve that peace. But God can’t guide us on the road to happiness if we’re too busy trying to guide ourselves. There’s nothing wrong with desiring happiness, and there’s nothing wrong with taking action to achieve that happiness. But the most important action we can take to achieve happiness is letting go of what we desire for ourselves, and asking what God desires for us.

Amen.

Welcome back.

Hello, readers! I am currently one day short of going a whole month without blogging. Sigh. I really hate saying that, as this blog is really important and meaningful to me. My only defense: I've been busy. So, in this post, I'll offer a quick recap of my activities over the past month. Then, in my next post, I'll tell you about my most recent race: the 2012 Father's Day 10K, which happened yesterday.

At the time of my last post, I had just finished TriRock Annapolis. The weekend after that, Andrew and I had engagement photos taken.  For the location, we chose the site of our second date: DC's Chinatown. We picked this spot for the scenery and the fact that this date was pivotal in our relationship. We hit it off on our first date, but #2 was the date that really sealed the deal. A few highlights:

At Graffiato restaurant, which is awesome and was wonderful about letting us shoot there!

Arm-wresting: how active couples resolve conflicts... or maybe just something we do.

A re-creation of our first kiss, in the spot where it happened. I LOVE this picture!

The next weekend, (aka: Memorial Day weekend), Andrew and I took a much-needed weekend away. First, we went to Frederick, MD, where we toured a brewery and ate at one of my favorite restaurants in the world, Volt. (You can read about my first trip to Volt here.) This was my second time at Volt and it was every bit as spectacular as the first!

Andrew prepares to have his taste buds dazzled.

After a lovely day and night in Frederick, we headed down to Norfolk, VA to spend the rest of the weekend with my soon-to-be in-laws. I am very lucky to be marrying into an amazing family and I love spending time with them. A big highlight of this trip was meeting Andrew's 90+ year-old grandmother and hearing stories about how she TOOK HIM TO ALASKA BY HERSELF when he was 12. What a remarkable woman! She reminded me so much of my own awesome grandmothers.

Another highlight was the opportunity to help Andrew's younger brother Marquis pull off a big surprise for his parents. Andrew's parents met Marquis through a church mission and took him into their home nine years ago. Over the past few weeks, he's graduated from high school and been accepted to Randolph Macon college. On the occasion of his high school graduation, Marquis decided that he wanted to throw a thank-you party for Andrew's parents. (Smart kid!) So, Andrew and I helped keep his parents busy at the Norfolk botanical gardens while Marquis prepared the party.

With my future in-laws (minus Marquis).

The proud parents and son at Marquis' party.

After Memorial Day weekend, Andrew and I were home for a few days before heading up to Hunt Valley, MD for the wedding of our great friends Nancy and Jessie (who, coincidentally, got engaged the night of my last trip to Volt!). I DJ'd the wedding, did a reading, and gave a toast. Andrew joined forces with my friend Michelle (the only non-liberal arts people at the wedding) and figured out how to hang lanterns for the reception. We both enjoyed witnessing the union of two people who are absolutely perfect for each other. They are role models for us!

Nancy and Jessie, post-ceremony, leading their guests in some traditional Jewish wedding dances. Those dances turned out to be quite a cardio workout! 

Just three days later, Andrew and I celebrated my 33rd birthday and another wedding! This time, it was my cousin Charles marrying his long-time girlfriend Ashley.

Looks like a happy couple to me! 

Charles brings two kids into this marriage, and Ashley brings three. So, now they are a family of seven! That's pretty daunting, but they seem to be taking it in stride and enjoying it. I'm impressed!

Ashley with her maid-of-honor and all five kids- supermom! 

A mere two days after that wedding, I packed up my camping stuff for my 3rd annual weekend volunteering at Camp Forget-Me-Not/Camp Erin DC, a grief and loss camp for kids ages 6-16. My previous experiences at camp have been so amazing that I've blogged about them several times before. You can read about my 2010 camp experience here and here, and about my 2011 experience here. Or, if you want a really great idea of why this camp is so special, you can watch this video:

Needless to say, my 2012 experience was just as rewarding and unforgettable as my previous experiences. If this video moves you, I strongly encourage you to visit the website of The Wendt Center for Loss and Healing in DC and learn how you can get involved as a donor, a volunteer, or a referral source for campers!

I got home from grief camp on Sunday night (which was a little complicated, as my car died over the weekend!). Monday morning, I jumped into an intensive workshop which is part of my training as a Brief Strategic Family Therapist. My three clinical colleagues and I spent 3 days with our BSFT supervisor (who came all the way from Kansas) intensively studying our cases and doing live supervisions. What's a live supervision, you ask? That's when a family (who has agreed in advance to participate) comes in for a session with their regular therapist and that session is observed live (via closed-circuit TV) by the therapist's colleagues and supervisor. Periodically during the session, the supervisor calls the therapist to offer advice and guidance on how to make the session more productive and valuable.

I felt really fortunate to have this opportunity- its something that used to be common, but is now very rare. But, of course, it was intimidating! Thankfully, I can report that it went very well and I learned so much from it. At the same time, it was exhausting! After camp and the 3 days of training, I was as tired as I have ever been in my life. I've been resting as much as possible ever since and I'm just starting to feel semi-normal again.

So, there you have it. A fun and meaningful but VERY busy month! I am looking forward to a little lull in July before my race season really cranks up August-October. Then, there's that whole "wedding" thing, which will take place on New Year's Eve. I imagine that might occupy my time a little bit.

Stay tuned for the story of the Father's Day 10K, coming soon!

A Lenten sermon and lessons (already) learned.

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to serve as substitute preacher for my candidacy mentor at his church, Baldwin Memorial UMC. It was the first Sunday of Lent, so I didn't have to search too far to find a topic. My sermon is below.

Writing this sermon helped me reflect on my own Lenten resolutions (see previous post), and why they are challenges for me. If I think about why I struggle with consistent exercise and daily food tracking, I hit on a couple of underlying issues:

First, (as I've noted in this blog before) I get into trouble when my routine changes. Any life change, positive or negative, that disrupts part of my regular routine can throw off every other part of my routine. So, my work schedule changes and suddenly I can't find time to go to the gym or track my food. The problem is exacerbated because it tends to take me a long time to establish new routines.

Second, I am prone to all-or-nothing thinking. For example, "I didn't do the 2 hours at the gym I had planned for today, so I might as well do nothing." Or, "I didn't track anything this weekend, so why start now? This week is already a loss." Not true in either case!

So, if I think about it, my goals of exercising and tracking every day are really about being flexible and not so hard on myself. And, at less than a week in, I've already been tested on both of those fronts:

On Friday, I had a plan to go to the gym for a class. I missed it, so I made a plan B to go to a later class. Then, something came up and I missed the second class too (aka: the last class of the day). Undeterred, I pulled out a workout DVD I hadn't used in ages and got a (surprisingly challenging) workout at home. Score one for flexibility!

This morning, I woke up way too tired to go to my usual 6am class at the gym. I hit the snooze button, thinking I would go to the 8:30am class. Then, when I woke up at 7, I remembered that I had a doctor's appintment at 9 and needed to head to work right afterward. So, I'm not going to get a workout in today. In the past, I might have let this minor setback end my whole endeavor, but that would be all-or-nothing thinking and I'm not falling for that anymore!

So, that's two lessons learned in about 5 days. This could be next year's Lenten sermon!


Mark 1:9-15


9In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. 10And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. 11And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” 12And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. 13He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.

14Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, 15and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”

It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better

A few months ago, I started a job as a family therapist. So far, I’ve only worked with a handful of families, but I already see some patterns. When I first meet with a family, I find one of two situations:

In some families, it takes awhile to get every family member to the table. For the first session or two, at least one crucial family member will be missing. The family members who do come blame most of the family’s problems on the missing person. They say that everything would be better if only that one person could change.

In other families, everyone comes together, but they avoid certain topics. In early sessions with these families, it seems like nothing is wrong. They assure me that they have some problems, but they are working on them, and things are getting better all the time. Anyone listening in might wonder why these families even need therapy.

With every family I see, my first job is to get everyone to the table and to get everything on the table. If family members are missing, I find ways to get them there. If I sense that topics are being avoided, I probe deeper. Once I succeed, things get interesting. Families start really working through their problems- often for the first time. Secrets are revealed. People who are usually quiet speak up. Conflicts emerge. Tears are shed and voices are raised.

This is when I get a phone call. It usually comes a few weeks into therapy, after a particularly difficult session. Someone from the family calls me and says “I don’t think this is working. Talking about our problems is making everyone upset. I think we all need individual therapy because talking as a family is too hard.” My response to this call is always the same. I tell the caller that solving family problems is hard work. I tell them that it takes a lot of courage to sit down as a family and face those problems. I remind them that their problems didn’t develop overnight and they won’t be solved overnight. And I tell them that a family problem is like a cold: it gets worse before it gets better.

Today’s Gospel lesson from Mark reminds me a lot of family therapy. At the beginning of the passage, Jesus is anointed for his ministry. He gets baptized by John the Baptist in the Jordan. During the baptism, the heavens open up, the Holy Spirit descends on Jesus like a dove, and the voice of God rings out: “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” At the end of the passage, Jesus sets out on his ministry. He goes into Galilee and starts proclaiming his message: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” It seems simple and straightforward: God blesses Jesus’ ministry and Jesus sets out to do that ministry. God says “I believe in you, Jesus” and Jesus goes off to do God’s will.

But, of course, it isn’t that simple. I’m leaving out the part in the middle. After Jesus’ baptism, the Holy Spirit drives him out into the desert to be tempted by Satan for 40 days. 40 days! To me, that seems like an awfully long time. If God already believes in Jesus, why does Jesus have to spend more than a month proving himself? If Jesus’ message is so important, why not send him out right away? Why take more than a month out of a ministry that’s only going to last 3 years? Why does Jesus have to travel through the desert before he can start his ministry?

Thinking about these questions makes me think about my work as a therapist. The families who come to me for help often feel like they’re wandering in a desert. Their lives feel harsh and barren and they can’t find a way out of their problems. When someone calls me for the first time and asks me to help their family, it’s a big moment. It takes wisdom to know when we’re lost, and it takes courage to ask for help. Beginning therapy with a family is like anointing them for a mission. They have decided to fix what’s broken in their relationships and I’m there to tell them “You can do this- I believe in you.”

When they get started in therapy, many families feel excited, hopeful, and ready to change. They’ve been wandering in their deserts for a long time, and now they’ve finally called in a guide to help them out. They consider me an expert on deserts: someone who knows the terrain and can show them the shortcuts. They hope I’ll give them a map and a couple of camels and they’ll be out of the desert in no time.

The truth is more complicated. Yes, I am a bit of an expert on deserts. I’m enough of an expert to realize that there are no shortcuts. The only way out of the desert is through. I know that crossing a desert takes time and that you’re going to face heat, wind, and thirst. My clients want me to lead them out of the desert, but I know that I need to lead them through. And if I’m going to do that, I need to give them a good reason. If they are going to face all of the perils of that journey, they need to know why.

For Jesus, the time he spends in the desert is a test. Mark doesn’t give us many details of what happens there, but Matthew and Luke tell us more about the temptations Jesus faces:

When Jesus is hungry from fasting, Satan tempts him to turn stones into bread. By this point, Jesus has been living in the desert heat for days- possibly weeks- without any food at all. Just hearing the word “bread” probably sets his heart racing and his mouth watering. But Jesus resists. He decides that the purpose of his fast is worth the agony. With this temptation, Jesus learns that he can endure pain and suffering in order to serve a higher purpose.

Later, Satan takes Jesus to the top of a high temple. Satan tells Jesus to prove that he’s the son of God by throwing himself off the temple and relying on angels to save him. Jesus faces this temptation just a short time after his baptism. Jesus went into the Jordan as a carpenter, and now he’s been claimed as God’s son. I can only imagine that he has some doubts. Part of him must be wondering if God will really look out for him. To have proof- for himself and the rest of the world- must be a wonderful idea. Yet, Jesus resists. With this temptation, Jesus learns he can be obedient to God, even when God feels distant and mysterious.

Finally, Satan tempts Jesus with power. He takes Jesus to the top of a high mountain and shows him vast lands and kingdoms. Satan promises Jesus that he can rule over everything he sees, if only he will forsake God and worship Satan. God is asking Jesus to be a servant: a loyal son who will humbly do God’s will. Satan offers the exact opposite: power, wealth, luxury, and the chance to be a ruler rather than a servant. Yet, Jesus resists again. With this temptation, he learns that he will not forsake his mission for power and wealth.

By the time Jesus emerges from the desert, he has faced all the temptations he will face in his ministry. He has faced his fears about the work ahead, and he knows he’s up to the job. He is ready for his mission in a way he never could have been without his time in the desert.

We often think of a mission as an individual thing, but families have missions too. There are some missions almost all families have in common: loving and supporting one another, having fun together, raising happy and healthy kids. Other missions are unique to individual families. Some families want to travel the world together, or learn new things, or serve the needy. And, just like individuals, families face temptations and challenges as they work toward their missions:

I see families so afraid of conflict they barely talk to each other. They let hurt and anger fester and poison their relationships. They have a problem with one person in the family and talk to everyone except that person.

I see families ripped apart by a secret or event from the past. A couple goes through a messy divorce and pushes their children to take sides. The children take up the conflict and wind up passing it on to their own children. I’ve seen families who can’t get along today because of what happened between Grandma and Grandpa 50 years ago.

I see families where parents give their children anything and everything they want. They only want to make their children happy, but they wind up making them spoiled and unable to accept limits.

Much of what I do as a family therapist is helping families face and overcome their temptations. If a family is tempted to silence disagreements, I help them to face their conflicts and work them out. If a family is holding on to a grudge from the past, I help them let it go. If parents are tempted to give in to their children, I help them learn to be strong.

None of this is easy. Its not easy for a mother to stand her ground while her child throws a tantrum. Its not easy for a father to hear how his divorce hurt his children. Its not easy for estranged family members to get together and talk. In fact, I think the biggest temptation most families face is the temptation to stay the same. Crossing the desert often feels too hard, even if something wonderful might be waiting on the other side.

Fortunately, we have today’s Gospel text to inspire and encourage us. We know that Jesus did the long, hard work of facing his temptations. We know that his time in the desert gave him what he needed to begin his mission- a mission that changed the world forever. And, to remember that time in the desert, we have the season of Lent.

During Lent, we are called to embark on a 40-day journey just like Jesus. As we prepare for Easter, God calls us to think about our own temptations. Lent is a time when each and every one of should ask: “What’s in my desert? What mission is God calling me to, and what do I have to overcome before I can start that mission?” We can ask this as individuals, or as families, or as churches.

Lent also calls us to face those temptations: to spend 40 days wrestling with our own personal demons. During Lent, many people choose to give up a bad habit or take up a good one. Unfortunately, many Lenten resolutions are a lot like New Year’s resolutions. We pick them without much thought and begin them expecting to fail. But, if we choose our resolutions carefully, Lent can be a powerful time of spiritual growth. On Ash Wednesday, I saw an article online suggesting some unconventional Lenten resolutions. Here are a few examples:

-Get to know your neighbors.

-Everywhere you go, leave a post-it with a positive message.

-Wear the same 4 outfits for all of Lent.

-Stop using your phone, computer, and TV after dinner.

What I like about these resolutions is that they target specific temptations. If your temptation is vanity, wearing the same 4 outfits for 40 days will be humbling. If you tend to be shy, knocking on your neighbors’ doors will be scary. If you spend all day attached to your devices, spending 40 evenings in quiet will be hard. These resolutions are challenging, but they have the potential to change someone forever.

We’re already a few days into Lent, but we still have over a month to go. That’s more than enough time for each of us to make at least one meaningful change. So, take some time and think about it: What is in your desert? Your family’s desert? Your church’s desert? And what could you find if you traveled through that desert? It won’t be an easy journey, but we know that we won’t make it alone. Amen.

If I can do this...

As you may or may not know, I am in my final semester of study for my master's in Pastoral Counseling. I am also in a mentorship/discernement process regarding ordination in the United Methodist Church. What does this mean? Basically, that I've spent the past several months taking psychological tests and thinking/writing/talking about my personal and professional strengths and weaknesses. I think about me all the time, and let others think about me, and take tests so that we can all learn more about me. Its a little exhausting. Right now I would give anything to think, talk, or write about someone else!

As much as I complain, though, I can't say I haven't learned anything in this process. Between the tests, the self-analysis, and the observations of others, I am starting to grasp various elements of my personality that felt mysterious before. For example, one of the tests identified my dominant personality trait as "openness to experience." Seeing that on paper was one of those "lightbulb moments." The term "openness to experience" captures so many things about me. For example, my willingness to dive into intense work situations (like working at the morgue). Or, the way I get bored easily and have trouble making decisions because I like everything. Or, all the crazy dates I've been on because, as my friends always say, I'll give just about anyone a chance.

Since becoming aware of this trait, I see it everywhere. At the gym this morning, I was waiting for spin class to start when a woman approached me and said "This is my first class- what should I expect?" She looked a little out-of-shape and a lot nervous, so I told her the truth about my first spin class: I went into it at a fitness level barely above 0. During the class, I felt like I was going to pass out and never got the gear over 7 (it goes to 25). Shortly after class, I fell off a bottom step because my legs were like jello. I also told her that I kept coming back and improved really quickly. She laughed and said I made her feel much better.

As I got on my bike, I realized that I've had similar exchanges in other exercise situations too. Newcomers to our boot camp class frequently hear about how I threw up on my first day. Before my friend ran her first 5K last week (for which she was well prepared), I told her about how I arrived at my first 5K thinking that 5K equals 2.3 miles. When I learned that its actually 3.1, I panicked a little because I had never run more than 2. All of these stories have the same basic messages: The first step is the hardest. Trying something new can be scary, but the payoff is worth it. If I can do this, pretty much anyone can.

So, if you are looking for motivation to try something new- in or out of the gym- try embracing a little openness to experience. If I can do it, you sure as heck can!

Facebook is my genogram.

When I work with my counseling clients, I often use one of these:

Its called a genogram, and its a technique that comes out of family therapy. A genogram is like a multi-layered family tree of your client. It contains information about things like relationships among family members, occupations, significant births and deaths, substance abuse problems, marriages and divorces, and anything else that might be of interest in the therapy process.

The real beauty of the genogram is that it shows multi-generational patterns. I have never done one with a client and not had them have some kind of "aha!" moment. For example, I once had a client who could not understand why she had chosen a dishonest man with a substance abuse problem as a husband, particularly because she was honest, hard-working, and successful. We did a genogram and I saw that every adult woman in her family, going back several generations, was a hard-worker who supported a husband with an addiction, a major financial problem, or (most of the time) both. I pointed out that, growing up in her family, she had been taught that women work hard and take care of things, and that men always let women down in the end. She was stunned. She had never noticed this about her family before, but once it was laid out on paper right in front of her, she couldn't help but see it.

Just last night, my friend and fellow counselor Corrinne and I had dinner. We talked about these moments, which are some of the best ones in doing counseling, where you help a client see something about themselves that they have never noticed before. We talked extensively about genograms. Then, this afternoon, Facebook became my genogram.

After recovering from my morning run (which involved a nap and some brunch), I logged on to Facebook and started scrolling down my newsfeed. Toward the bottom, I saw something remarkable: A former boyfriend from all the way back in high school had posted a link to a YouTube video made by a guy I dated briefly a little over 3 years ago. These guys don't know each other. They live on opposite sides of the country. Neither of them has talked to me in a very long time. Guy #1 just happened to come across Guy #2's video, thought it was funny (it is), and posted it.

At first, I just laughed this off, thinking that its just another example of the world getting smaller. Then, I thought about it a bit more, and realized that it actually makes perfect sense. #1 and #2 have very similar interests and very similar senses of humor. If they met, they would probably like each other. Naturally, this got me thinking a little more. I recognize some patterns in the people I date, but I also think that what I'm looking for has changed over the years, as I mature and learn more about what works for me. What if I'm wrong, though? I always think about the first guy in this story (we'll call him A) as very different from anyone else I've dated since, but now I'm not so sure about that. Let's compare him to a few other significant love interests from my past, in chronologial order:

A:
-Loves classical music. Has degrees in music and has played music at least semi-professionally.
-Loves hockey.
-Enjoys role-playing games (both the video game kind and the D&D kind).
-Is very interested in Eastern Europe, and has travelled there.
-Has a silly sense of humor.
-Is (or at least was) a former committed Christian turned atheist.
-Is very smart.

B:
-Is a pastor's kid, raised in a committed Christian home, but now questions those beliefs.
-Enjoys role-playing games (the video game kind).
-Is very funny, but not really in a silly way.
-Is very smart.

C:
-Made movies about hockey.
-Enjoys puns and other silly humor.
-Enoys role-playing games (the video game kind).
-Is a former committed Christian turned atheist.
-Last I checked, was dating a Russian woman and travelling in Eastern Europe.
-Is very smart.

D:
-Loves classical music. Has a degree in music and teaches music. Has performed semi-professionally.
-Has a silly sense of humor.
-Is divorced from a Russian woman, has dated another Russian woman, and has travelled in Russia.
-Is a pastor's kid who grew up a committed Christian (but, this time, is still Christian).
-Is very smart.

E:
-Enjoys role-playing games (the D&D kind).
-Is funny, and sometimes in a silly way.
-Grew up in a Christian home (though not very committed) and is now a Buddhist.
-Is very smart.

So there you have it. Clearly, I have some patterns I hadn't noticed before. If I were including all the people I've ever dated here, as well as people I've just had major crushes on, I would have two more classical musicians, another person who ultimately married someone Russian, at least one more former committed Christian, and several more silly and smart people. Dang.

Obviously, some of these shared qualities are great and make perfect sense for me: Smart? Wonderful! Funny? Great! Musician? I like the arts too! Other qualities are just kind of strange: Why are they all obsessed with Eastern Europe? Did they like me because I have pale skin and blonde hair? And, some of these qualities are not so great for me: Why do I keep picking people with major baggage about the church?

So, I guess I have some things to think about. Can I forward my therapy bills to Facebook?

Professional Pride.

Last weekend, my mom and I paid a visit to the cemetery where her parents are buried. On the way out, we spotted this tombstone. Get it? He was an undertaker! I'm all for professional pride, but I don't know if I would take it this far.

Of course, ever since I saw this, I've been making up tombstone/resumes for myself. My favorite is a picture of a couch with the words "Alicia is dead. How do you feel about that?"

Feel free to join this game in the comments!

Mementos, mantras, and mind games.

Last Saturday, training and fundraising buddy extraordinaire Katie C. turned 26. This was very exciting for me because it gave me an excuse to present a surprise marathon good luck charm several weeks early (see above). As I mentioned previously, "walk it off" has been our favorite mantra throughout this crazy ordeal. I had a feeling we could both use those words right where we could see them throughout the race. Enter the matching engraved ID bracelets!

Running books, magazines, and coaches often suggest that you pick a significant word of phrase to get you through tough moments in training and races. Counselors will often suggest that you do this to get through tough moments in life. Katie and I are both runners and counselors, so we are all over this. When I presented her with the "walk it off" bracelet, we had a conversation about some of our favorite mantras and mind games. We even speculated that we could choose one word or thought to focus on for each mile of the upcoming race. So, here are a few of my favorites. If you have some of your own, please share!

-"Walk it off." (no surprise there)

-Repeating powerful words. For me, these include "strong," "relentless," and my new favorite, "robust." (According to my stats professor, a "robust" psychological test performs well under non-optimal conditions. I think that applies to a lot of my training these past few months!)

-"You got this."

-Reviewing past accomplishments. Counselors love this one. This is where you encourage youself by calling to mind anything and everything you have ever achieved, particularly at times when you had to overcome great odds. On a 4+ hour run, you have a lot of time for this. On a good day,  I can get all the way back to elementary school spelling bees.

-Chapel songs. I never gave it much thought while I was in seminary, but there are a lot of church songs about running, races, and journeys. I definitely catch myself humming them on long runs. "Guide my feet, Lord, while I run this race," "Don't turn around, we've come this far by faith," "I don't believe God brought me this far to leave me," etc.

-Visualizing the end. Sometimes this means hugging and crying at the finish line. Other times, its getting a massage. Many, many times, its hitting the bagel shop on the way home. Mmmm... bagels.

Walk it off, part 2.

As I mentioned in the last post, the new season of "The Biggest Loser" started on Tuesday. While there are some legitimate complaints about this show (setting up unrealistic expectations, making everything about the number on the scale, etc.), I have always appreciated it for the way that it explores the deeper issues that cause people to lose control of their lives and their bodies. On the premiere, the host and trainers travelled around the country narrowing a group of semi-finalists into the final group of contestants for the season. Each semi-finalist got a brief intro profile, and most of them talked about experiences of grief and trauma. Abusive/addicted parents, sibling loss, loss of a child, and abusive relationships all came up more than once.

As a society, I think we're making progress in how we talk about grief and trauma. Compared to our parents, my siblings and I were taught to be a little more open about difficult feelings, and my nieces and nephews are being taught to be much more open. Still, I can't tell you how often I do a family history with a client and uncover multiple losses and traumas which they have never really talked about with anyone. As the contestants on "The Biggest Loser" demonstrate, human beings can not just walk away from these experiences unscathed. We need to talk about them and work through them, and we usually need help from someone we trust in order to do it.

Which brings me to a quote that Katie C. shared on her own blog today, from the always-wise Mr. Rogers:"Anything that’s human is mentionable, and anything that is mentionable can be more manageable. When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting, and less scary. The people we trust with that important talk can help us know that we are not alone." I feel very lucky to be that trusted person for so many people, and very grateful for those who have been that person to me!
  

Good news and bad news.

This has been a week of good news and bad news. Good news: I'm back at work. Bad news: I am totally swamped from all my time off. Stuff like that. Here are some highlights:

Good news: I had a follow-up with my surgeon and I have been pronounced officially healed. The doctor is totally satisfied with my progress and says that I have "no restrictions" on what I can do. I've been able to return to Group Power and some other athletic activities. Bad news: I haven't been able to run yet. Even though I'm healing well, the sites of my incisions are still a bit swollen and tender, and the pounding of running causes significant pain. Its getting a little less every day, though, and I'm hoping I'll be able to get in a longish run this weekend. We'll see.

Good news: Over the weekend, I ran into a colleague from my first pseudo-counseling job, which I held from 2002-2004. I hadn't seen her in 3 or 4 years, and it was great to hear her news and also get caught up on events in the community where I used to work. Bad news: My former colleague informed me of the death of one of my most beloved former clients. She was a grandmother, raising her grandchildren after one of their parents died and the other was incarcerated. She was one of the strongest and most loving people I've ever known. I told her at our very first meeting that I was there to work for her, and she was humble enough to let me do that, despite being many years older than me and light years more experienced in life. At the same time, she found hundreds of little ways to let me know that she cared for me, as a professional and as a person. I've thought about her and her family thousands of times in the 6+ years since I last saw them, and the world feels just a little colder knowing that she's gone from it.

Finally, a piece of unambiguous good news: I saw a former clinical supervisor on Wednesday who knows about my marathon plans and about the appendix situation. I was updating her on my progress, and she commented that she had talked to her brother (a marathoner) about my situation and shared some of his advice. I was so unbelievably touched that this person had thought enough about my situation to actually talk about it with her family. It made me think about all of the people, throughout all the various nooks and crannies of my life, who are so invested in my marathon experience. I don't have adequate words to express how touched I am that so many people care so deeply about me and my journey. I truly feel like I will be running this marathon with a support team of hundreds. I can not thank all of you enough!

This is becoming a problem.

When I first visited my gym last August and took a look at the schedule, I wasn't sure it would work for me. Given the crazy schedule I had from September-May, I knew that the only time I would be able to go would be at 6am. I have never been great at getting up in the morning; I used to struggle to get to work at 9:30am. How was I going to drag myself out of bed in the dark to work out?

At that time, I happened to be reading the terrific book Changing for Good (http://amzn.com/038072572X). This book introduced the concept of stages of change, which has become a widely accepted idea in counseling. There are tons of books about the stages written for therapists, but this one was originally intended as a self-help book for anyone wishing to change a bad habit. I've read it a few times in order to help clients, and the great thing about it is that I can't help but work on one or more of my own bad habits every time I read it. So, last August, I looked at the gym schedule and the advice in Changing for Good and thought "I can make this work."

For the most part, I have made it work. Since the second week of August last year, I have not gone a week without exercising at least four times, and I often make it five or six. Until this week. I don't know if its the heat, jet lag, or what, but I just could not drag myself out of bed this week. I even missed three group exercise classes that I really like just because I didn't feel like going. I know I'm going to pay for it on this weekend's long run.

The authors of Stages of Change would call this "recycling," which is their preferred term for "relapse." I think those guys might be watching me because, as I sit in my counseling office and type this, I just got a call from a client, with whom I've been working on the stages of change. She can't make it tonight. Which means I can go home and go to the gym. Time to recycle!

Camps, boot and grief.

This is a photo from the first episode of the summer reality show "Losing it With Jillian," in which the boot-camp style trainer from "The Biggest Loser" moves in with struggling families for a week to try to help them get their health back on track.

A few seasons ago on "The Biggest Loser," Jillian's mother was a guest on an episode. Turns out she's a therapist, which goes a long way toward explaining why Jillian is so darn good at getting inside people's heads. I envy her assessment skills. On episode after episode of both of these shows, she asks her trainees a few well-chosen questions and gets right to the heart of the psychological issues behind their struggles. Then, she designs her interventions to address both the physical and the psychological issues. In some ways, she reminds me of Dr. Murray. As far as I know, Dr. Murray never screamed at people and made them cry, but she did incorporate really creative phsyical interventions (like running) into her therapy.

I expected "Losing it With Jillian" to be more about emotional issues than food or exercise, but I've been surprised at how much of it is about grief. In the first episode, the family above shared that they had lost a son in infancy and not talked about it for 22 years. Instead, they grew heavier and more distant from one another with each year. The second episode centered around a mother and children who had struggled since losing their husband and father. It looks like the next episode will be about a woman suffering after a divorce. With all of these families, the change that Jillian makes by getting them to talk about their grief is far more significant than any changes she makes through diet or exercise.

I'll be spending this weekend volunteering for Camp Forget-Me-Not/Camp Erin DC, a weekend grief camp for children and teenagers put on by my clinical placement site, the Wendt Center for Loss and Healing (http://www.wendtcenter.org/). At this camp, the kids get a chance to spend a weekend away from school, friends, family, and responsibilities in a place where its okay to talk about grief and loss. I was already excited about volunteering for this camp, but watching "Losing It" the past few weeks has reminded just how important programs like Camp Forget-Me-Not really are.

If I've learned one thing doing grief counseling, its that loss and grief are everywhere. Loss is a universal experience of life. We all go through it over and over again. Yet, we almost never talk about it. So many people move through their lives carrying huge burdens of unexpressed pain. Often (as on "Losing It"), they wind up literally carrying it on or in their bodies. Sometimes they carry it as financial debt, addictions, bad relationships, or other destructive behaviors. Talking about it doesn't make it go away, but it releases some of that destructive energy and helps people make connections between their feelings and their behaviors. I'm really glad to see this being demonstrated in such a popular, public forum.