Why Do We Sleep?

Did you see the article in May's National Geographic, The Secrets of Sleep?

The most interesting thing about the article is that it explores the wonder that we don't really know why we're made that way, why we spend a third of our lives asleep:

"'If sleep doesn't serve an absolutely vital function,' the renowned sleep researcher Allan Rechtschaffen once said, 'it is the greatest mistake evolution ever made.'"

After all, sleep leaves a creature extremely vulnerable, e.g., to predators.

"At Stanford University I visited William Dement, the retired dean of sleep studies, a co-discoverer of REM sleep, and co-founder of the Stanford Sleep Medicine Center. I asked him to tell me what he knew, after 50 years of research, about the reason we sleep. 'As far as I know,' he answered, 'the only reason we need to sleep that is really, really solid is because we get sleepy.'"

Ha!

We may never have a tidy scientific explanation of these things, or be able to "overcome" this terrible, wonderful vulnerability, this need for downtime. I say, instead, let's not try. Instead, let's celebrate it; let's enjoy it.

Or, of course, ignore it at your peril. I'm still pondering Mark Buchanan's The Rest of God. I blogged about his description of "Those Who Will Not Stop."

From Jerry Sittser on Growing in Loss

A Grace Disguised: How the Soul Grows through Loss, by Jerry Sittser. Zondervan, 2004, 224 pages.

Probably the best book I've ever read about responding to loss. Have a taste. Then, get yourself a copy.

Loss is universal:

“Loss is as much a part of normal life as birth, for as sure as we are born into the world we suffer loss before we leave it.” (p. 9)

“Pain… is the flip side of pleasure… the eye that blinks under the glare of a bright light also gazes in wonder at a mountain peak or meadow of wildflowers. The nose that signals the scent of a dead animal under the crawlspace of our house also draws us into the kitchen where bread is baking. The mouth that makes us spit out spoiled food also relishes the taste of our favorite flavor of ice cream. Ears that cringe at the wail of a siren also listen with pleasure to a Beethoven symphony.” (p. 45)

“What is true of the body is also true in the soul. The pain of loss is severe because the pleasure of life is so great.” (p. 46)

“[Whether it is sudden or builds up gradually], catastrophic loss wreaks destruction like a massive flood. It is unrelenting, unforgiving, and uncontrollable, brutally erosive to body, mind, and spirit… [It leaves] the landscape of one’s life changed forever.” (p. 16)

“People in denial refuse to see loss for what it is, something terrible that cannot be reversed. But their unwillingness to face pain comes at a price… in the end denial leads to a greater loss.” (p. 47)

On loss and comparison:

“Loss is loss, whatever the circumstances. All losses are bad, only bad in different ways. No two losses are ever the same. Each loss stands on its own and inflicts a unique kind of pain… what value is there to quantifying and comparing losses?” (p. 25)

“In the light of global experience… ‘Why me?’ seems the wrong question to ask. ‘Why not me?’ is closer to the mark… I realized soon after the accident that I had just been initiated into a fellowship of suffering that spans the world.” (p. 109)

“Though suffering itself is universal, each experience of suffering is unique because each person who goes through it is unique… that is why suffering loss is a solitary experience… We must enter the darkness of loss alone, but once there we will find others with whom we can share life together.” (p. 154)

On attempts to get through / get over loss:

“This book is not intended to help anyone get over or even through the experience of catastrophic loss, for I believe that ‘recovery’ from such loss is an unrealistic and even harmful expectation, if by recovery we mean resuming the way we lived and felt prior to the loss. Instead, the book is intended to show how it is possible to live in and be enlarged by loss, even as we continue to experience it.” (p. 10)

“Darkness comes, no matter how hard we try to hold it off. (p. 32). I decided to walk in the darkness rather than try to outrun it. (p. 24) It was the first step I took toward growth, but it was also the first step I took toward pain (p. 35). I did not get over the loss… rather, I absorbed the loss into my life… sorrow took up a permanent residence in my soul and enlarged it.” (p. 37).

“Deep sorrow often has the effect of stripping life of pretense, vanity, and waste… It forces us to ask basic questions about what is most important in life… that is why many people who suffer sudden and severe loss often become different people.” (p. 63)

“Tragedy can increase the soul’s capacity for darkness and light, for pleasure as well as pain, for hope as well as dejection… the soul has the capacity to experience these opposites, even at the same time. (p. 39). Even if we really do overcome our own pain (which is doubtful in my mind) we nevertheless find ourselves more sensitive to the pain of others and more aware of the darkness that envelopes the world (p. 41).

“Later, my sister Diane told me that the quickest way for anyone to reach the sun and the light of day is not to run west, chasing after the setting sun, but to head east, plunging into the darkness until one comes to the sunrise.” (p. 33)

On some of the personal implications of loss:

“...I felt that I had lost my most important link to the past, as if whole chapters of my life story had been suddenly torn out.” (p. 58)

“It is impossible not to imagine the future, and it is equally impossible to imagine the future without using the present as material for the imagination… the problem with those who have suffered loss is that they are deprived of familiar material from the present in order to envision the future… Much of what I imagined for my future became impossible.” (p. 60)

“Our sense of personal identity depends largely on the roles we play and the relationships we have. What we do and who we know contributes significantly to how we understand ourselves. Catastrophic loss is like undergoing an amputation of our identity… I sometimes feel like I am a stranger to myself.” (p. 70)

“Loss freezes life into a snapshot. We are stuck with what was instead of what could have been. This sudden halt… forces us to recognize the incompleteness of life and to admit our failures… it is too late.” (p. 84)

“Our feelings do not determine what is real, through the feelings themselves are real… we should acknowledge them without treating them as if they were ultimate truth.” (p. 88)

“Regret can also lead to transformation if we view loss as an opportunity to take inventory of our lives.” (p. 89)

"A widow told me recently that the death of her husband caused her to reconsider her view of friendship. She said that she and her husband had always been best friends. She therefore had little time and interest to build friendships with others.” (pp. 90-91)

“We are forced to face the ugliness, selfishness, and meanness of our own lives… But God promises to forgive those of us who confess our guilt, and to make right what we are sorry for doing wrong. The gift of divine forgiveness will help us to forgive ourselves.” (p. 91)

On finding God in our loss:

“No matter how deep the pit into which I descend, I keep finding God there. He is not aloof from my suffering but draws near to me when I suffer. He is vulnerable to pain, quick to shed tears, and acquainted with grief.” (p. 143)

“I have come to realize that the greatest enemy we face is death itself, which claims everyone and everything. No miracle can ultimately save us from it. A miracle is therefore only a temporary solution. We really need more than a miracle – we need a resurrection to make life eternally new. We long for a life in which death is finally and ultimately defeated.” (p. 148)

On the coexistence of grief and joy:

“I still have a sorrowful soul; yet I wake up every morning joyful, eager for what the new day will bring. Never have I felt as much pain as I have in the last three years; yet never have I experienced as much pleasure in simply being alive and living an ordinary life. Never have I felt so broken; yet never have I been so whole. Never have I been so aware of my weakness and vulnerability; yet never have I been so content and felt so strong. Never has my soul been more dead; yet never has my soul been more alive. What I once considered mutually exclusive – sorrow and joy, pain and pleasure, death and life – have become parts of a greater whole.” (pp. 179-180)

Note: Page numbers refer to the first edition, 1995, and may be different in the expanded version.

Want to Live an Unhurried Life?

Check out Paula's list of helpful books here, as well as 100 practical tips and exercises.

Six Months of Sabbatical

See some of what I've been doing these last six months.

I know, quite a lot of reading. Guess I haven't changed much from the little girl whose favorite place to go at recess was the library. So, given a longer recess...

Personal Update / Sabbatical Reading

Following their Footsteps

When my parents were were a bit older than I am now they both went through stages when they were trying to figure out who they were and who they wanted to be. Dad was beginning a new life as a recovering alcoholic (and I'm proud to say, sober ever since) and Mom, as a divorced, single mom. Of course, there was a lot more to them then those labels, but it took some time and attention to figure it out.

Hate to admit it, but my sister and I were more apt to complain about the struggles and inconvenience the family's breakup made in our lives - e.g., moving off-island and attending an inner-city middle school - than to show compassion, empathy, and support for Mom and Dad. Heck, we were typical, self-focused young teens. We made fun of their self-help books and their sometimes awkward attempts to reinvent themselves.

Yet my relationships with both parents were in the early stages of turning into the friendships they are today, and I picked up enough to be helpful to me as I've reached speed bumps and crossroads of my own.

I've been thinking about my parents often during these months of sabbatical, and it's been good to compare notes from time to time. Since I'm sometimes quite restless about being "at home," and sabbatical is about rest as much as anything, I delayed a trip West until quite late in the process. I also like to see the Pacific Northwest in its best season. When the sun comes out, this is a glorious place.

Anyway, I've enjoyed this visit more than any in a long time. Praise God.

Sabbatical Reading

As regular visitors will realize I've been reading a lot of books about personal development this year. Here are some you might like as well. I didn't find these uniformly helpful, but "got something" out of each one, as well as some of the fiction and other things I read. I know you may be thinking, "If I didn't have to work, I might read books too!" Ah, well... may God grant you the space and input you need to live a life worth living. Whatever means he may use.

a. Rest and Perspective

Early on in the sabbatical I read The Overload Syndrome: Learning to Live within Your Limits, by Richard Swenson, and later picked up In Search of Balance. I loved Mark Buchanan's The Rest of God: Restoring Your Soul by Restoring Sabbath and also read his Things Unseen: Living with Eternity in Your Heart. I got a lot out of The Vertical Self: How Biblical Faith Can Help Us Discover Who We Are in an Age of Self Obsession by Mark Sayers, which I read at just the right time.

b. What You Might Call "Life Coaching"

Dan Allender's To Be Told: God Invites You to Coauthor Your Future and Donald Miller's A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: What I Learned While Editing My Life gave me some tools and inspiration to look at the path of my life more closely. Previously, I had read Max Lucado's Cure for the Common Life, which was also helpful; I think I will give it a second look.

 48 Days to Work You Love stressed me out - it's written in the same style as those Swenson books mentioned above; too many bullet points, quotes, and statistics. But it had some good content. Now, Discover Your Strength and StrengthFinder 2.0 were helpful ones this month. Don't Waste Your Talent is still in my pile. 

c. Personal Growth, esp. Considering Loss and Disappointment

The last newsletter I wrote said I thought a good chunk of my sabbatical would be less about having fun and being at peace, more about facing and feeling my loss, disappointment, and grief about a variety of things. Now, that doesn't sound like the kind of thing any of us do willingly; certainly I don't. I might have been able to go deeper, faster and "get that over with" if I had been less reluctant. But even my feeble efforts have born a great deal of fruit.

Among the helpful things I read were the Old Testament (yes, all the way through) and Yancey's The Bible Jesus Read, Nouwen's The Way of the Heart, Keller's A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23, McGee's The Search for Significance: Seeing Your True Worth through God's Eyes, Expectations and Burnout: Women Surviving the Great Commission, and Foyle's Honorably Wounded: Stress among Christian Workers.

One of the best books I encountered was Jerry Sittser's A Grace Disguised: How the Soul Grows through Loss, which I wrote about several weeks ago. Highly recommended.
  
Now What?

Now that the sabbatical is almost over, I realize that in addition to my stated goals to seek rest, reflection, and renewal in order to live a more fruitful life in the years to come, I expected I'd be ready to make a practical decision about what to do about my job situation...It may happen yet, but so far, nope.

Here's the deal. While I have project opportunities (e.g., teaching and writing) waiting for me, I don't exactly have a position, and I no longer have a team or office. Can I stay with my mission agency? That would mean finding a new team/fit within the ministry, probably working with minimal companionship or accountability. (Freeing? or foolish?) How much of an open door there is for me to stay with P.I. is not entirely clear to me. If I leave, where would I go? There are some great ministries out there, and I know which ones I "like" best and why - but which ministry or team would be the best fit for me at this point, and - one would hope - for the next 5-10 years?

What am I even looking for in evaluating teams, organizations, situations? I seem to be in a position where the answer is not just "whoever will have me." Guess I can be thankful for that! Yet which is more important, finding a great team/office situation, or staying in Denver? Continuing the kinds of projects I've put so much into, or taking my skills into new areas to do the work others think is important? Some of those things may compatible, but if they turn out to be in conflict, what will I prioritize?

Honestly, while those questions have been on my mind, God hasn't shown me what's next, yet. I haven't reached a stage where I'm ready to make a decision. I haven't even researched the options very well. However, I have a greater sense of clarity - and peace - than I did. I'm about ready to talk. It's a good start.

Partnering with Pain

Pain is the partner I did not request / this is the dance I did not ask to join – Madeleine L’Engle

The chance to focus on personal growth during this six-month period has brought all kinds of stuff to the surface. It's been a roller-coaster. And I'm not much of a thrill seeker; I would not have chosen this!

“I go back and forth,” I told a friend who has walked through the process with me, “between seeing myself as a basically healthy, balanced person who has been blessed with the chance to face down the things that are holding me back from growing into a healthier, more mature person – and believing, on the basis of the crap that comes up in the process, that I am actually just a disaster zone or a monster.”

“As I see it,” she said, “definitely the former! A lot of people couldn’t do what you’re doing, they wouldn’t have the ability to process these things and put them into words, or the opportunity to slow down and do it. I don’t think you’re a disaster at all.” She’s proud of me. She thinks I’m doing well. She’s even glad to be part of the process.

Such words are very helpful, reassuring. Frequently, these days, I've found myself fighting the familiar battle with the self-protective, self-defeating shyness that has plagued me, even as an extrovert, just about all my life.

And yeah, depression too. I don’t have it as bad as many people I know – depression I mean – it’s situational, not clinical. I don’t meet any of the criteria to be medicated for it. I just get these waves of hopelessness, usually this time of year; it becomes hard to believe life is good or has much meaning. I can still sleep and eat and have fun and stuff like that, and there are times when things seem really good. But these seasons definitely take the wind out of my sails, sometimes when I feel like I need it the most - like now when I feel I ought to be dreaming dreams about the future and finding a ministry situation that’s a good fit.

Taking up running has been a big help, and I’ve got a few other things in my bag of tricks that generally make a difference, keep the depression at bay.

Yet this year I’m trying to press into it a bit more – to pay attention to my feelings and not try to squelch or silence them too soon.

And grieving is a bit different from depression, and that's part of what's been going on too. My friend gave me a book on grief which has provided both direction and catharsis, to some extent. It’s called A Grace Disguised, by Jerry Sittser. Good stuff.

The author says, as I’m discovering for myself, that the only way to make peace with and transcend your more difficult emotions is to let yourself feel them. Not chase them away. It seems counterintuitive to me to think that grieving would make me happy, raging would bring me peace, or exploring my jealousy or resentment would stir up my gratitude and compassion, but somehow this seems to be the case. Only by confessing and accepting disappointment can I transcend it. Life is weird, isn’t it?!

Another point in A Grace Disguised is that you can’t measure grief, can’t compare yours to someone else’s and say it’s worse and that people should feel sorry for you, or that since it isn’t as bad you shouldn’t be unhappy about it. Grief is grief, a common experience for people who happen to be alive. A life without grief is probably not worth living. And nobody’s grief is going to be quite like anyone else’s. So you don’t need to defend and justify your sadness to yourself or to anyone else.

What am I sad about?

I’m sad that my family disintegrated. It happened 25 years ago, and everyone moved on, but it still hurts, it still feels like a loss.

I’m sad that what became my family, Caleb Project – a group of people who not only loved one another but even more than a regular family were drawn together around a common, compelling purpose – also disintegrated. It happened 3-4 years ago but I still haven’t found a new footing. It was a huge loss for me. In both situations there are those who would say good riddance; it was for the best, it was a bad or broken thing and so we had to end it, but I don't buy that; it's too black and white.

Similarly, I’m sad about the family I've never had, sad that I’ve missed out on being a wife and mother, the experiences that provide the greatest sense of meaning and identity in the lives of almost all the women I know.

Sure, it’s still possible I’ll experience those roles to some extent, some day. But I haven’t, so far, and there’s no promise I ever will and lots of reasons to believe I won’t. It’s not that I can’t and don’t enjoy or feel grateful for being single – I do. But when so much of what is out there suggests that the really important thing in life is family, all three of these situations seem like significant material for grief, and I’m trying to let myself grieve over these losses.

I think one reason I’ve been reluctant to let my sad feelings out is a fear that they would take over – that you can’t be positive, or happy, or grateful, can’t experience joy or peace if you’re grieving. That a disappointed or grieving person is just going to be a dark cloud wherever she goes, assuming they let her in the door. But that turns out not to be true either.

Joy and sadness are like parallel tracks running through life, and if you’re going to really live, you will experience them both, and often at the same time. I’ve continued to have fun, and enjoy life, and see God at work, just as much or more.

Life is not what you’d expect. As my friend L. said, we don’t have to untangle our messes before going to God with them, we can just say, “here it is; here I am.”

Reflections on Personal Development: How I Thought I'd Change

The New You

I don’t know how many novels I’ve read or movies I’ve seen that feature this plot, but a lot; I think it’s an archetypical American fantasy. The character moves to a new location – maybe a different part of the country, maybe returning to her childhood home, or someplace completely new – and starts over, reinventing herself. Of course there’s pain involved, and conflict; the change doesn’t come easy. But that’s the story, the story of how she transformed herself into a wonderful person. Usually by the end of the book or movie she's forgiven whoever hurt her in the past and probably fallen in love, fallen in love with the kind of person who they never would have chosen in the past but who is just right for the better self she is now becoming. A “happily ever after” is strongly suggested.

Sometimes we see this in missions; people who think the crucible of cross-cultural living will turn them into the kind of person they always thought they should be. Sometimes it works, eventually, somewhat. A lot of times it doesn’t. I don’t say that to make an argument against missions, just to say that the whole “you’ll get more out of it than you’ll give” dynamic doesn’t expand exponentially from a two-week mission trip to a term or two overseas. In fact, most people find it takes years to really be effective in another culture, once you commit to belonging instead of just passing through. Still, self-improvement is such an engaging fantasy that if I were writing missions-fiction I’d probably be tempted to tell one of those personal transformation success stories. Perhaps I’d suggest that God was the one who affected the change, but I’d still tap into that American, be-all-that-you-can-be fantasy. It’s so dear to us, so compelling.

A Nicer Person

Here’s one story I realize I had hoped to be telling at the end of this year, but am not so sure about now. I don’t know if I ever put it into words but I had this idea that while I was on sabbatical – and maybe after I had finished my sabbatical, as well – I would be a nicer person.

After all, without all the pressure that comes from a job, without traveling all the time and trying to keep up in so many areas of life, without living life on overload and without margins, I’d be able to stop and smell the roses. I’d do nice things for myself, and enjoy them. (That much is true – I have!) But I also expected I’d be more thoughtful. I’d send more birthday cards and considerate presents. I’d reach out to people both spontaneously and intentionally. I’d be available and responsive instead of striding around looking like I’m on a mission. And by golly, I’d even commit “random” acts of kindness!

Certainly there have been some changes for the better. I’ve replaced the briskness in my walk with more of a mosey or saunter. I’ve smiled at people and waited patiently in line. And, when people have called or written asking for a favor, I’ve been able to say yes to things I might not have been able to help with in the past, like babysitting or giving people rides to the airport. My conversation has been richer, some days, simply due to the space and level of reflection in my life.

If I can spend my 40s doing less, instead of more, than I have in my 30s, I’ll probably experience some of that same fruit.

But I’m here to report that overall, I haven’t become the nicer person I envisioned. I still think of far more nice things to do for other people than I actually follow through on. And really, I don’t think of that many. I have not become a “noticer,” one of those people who just has eyes to see people’s needs and quietly comes alongside them with acts of thoughtful service. Nor have I made many phone calls or written letters to friends who thought I’d forgotten them, just to let them know how much they still mean to me!

Hmmm… what do you think, is “be nicer to other people” still a good goal to have? Does it need to be reframed, reworked, or replaced with something different?

“Become a nicer person,” if you put it that way, does seem rather self-referential. Too often my desire for self-respect is higher than my actual love for other people – even if they are pulling in the same direction. However, I am learning that a simple acknowledgment and acceptance of my negative emotions or self-referential responses to things can really free me up to get beyond them to responding to others with love and compassion. More about that in future post, perhaps.

Dan Allender on the Shattering of Shalom

“Stories begin with a life at peace… a deep inner and external harmony when disparate parts flow together in a unity that is greater than the sum of the parts…

“We all have moments of shalom… it is life without sin, tragedy, emptiness, or fear… moments of rest, safety and warmth…

“For many of us recalling those moments produces not nostalgia and pleasure but significant sadness. Those times are gone, and often they were lost when shalom was shattered. But it is crucial to remember those moments when our story was at peace and we felt the warm and kind wind that blew from Eden into our life.

“To remember is to anticipate with growing the future day when our past shalom will appear in glory at the Day of the Lord… to imagine a new and better day and, even more, to move toward that day with passion and purpose.

“Shalom is shattered by sin, by the intrusion of a lie, a distortion of the truth that mars the pleasure of being naked, transparent, trusting, and true… shattering occurs when our dignity is assaulted and death enters to divide and destroy. The shattering is death. In every story, in every life, there are moments of death that take away our name and rename us as strangers, orphans, or widows.”

From: To Be Told: God Invites You to Coauthor Your Future, by Dan B. Allender, pp. 42-43

Personal Update, mid-June

1. Toward Realistic Expectations

What do you expect from life? I’ve often been told that it’s better to keep your expectations as low as possible. That way you won’t be disappointed if things go badly. If things go better than you think, you will be pleasantly surprised.

Hoping to reduce pain and disappointment, I’ve given that approach a try, but have never been able to stick with it very well or very long.

Perhaps it’s a matter of personality as much as anything. I’m shy and not very courageous sometimes, but I’m also an extrovert, have a high energy level, and am something of a visionary. So to be passive or too easily satisfied – to give up on wanting or trying to make things better – doesn’t feel right to me.

Yet personality is only part of the puzzle I think. There’s surely a maturity element in all this as well. Rarely do I see people my age and older caught up in the grip of huge disappointments. Sometimes they are... but it seems to take more to knock them down. Their spouse leaving them; their careers or finances falling apart; their children making disastrous choices. But often, it's the young who are most debilitated by disappointments. Older folks know a little better, are not usually caught by surprise.

Long swaths of life experience do change us. They may harden us, dishearten us, teach us to give up and just want less. Even at a young age we may become bitter or cynical because of the things we’ve experienced.

Or our experiences may just help us develop better or healthier ways to find lasting satisfaction, to compensate for our weaknesses and limitations, and to hold onto expectations that, seasoned by time, are simply more informed, more realistic.

Could it be that that is what has happened to me? Lately I've noticed situations that once would have torn me apart have seemed much less of a big deal.

2. Summer Vacation, Friend or Foe?

Reading through some old journals, I found something I wrote in 2002. I was at my mom’s house for a while, following nearly a year overseas:

“I have that restless sense of depression that comes with vacation. I’m ‘supposed to’ be having fun, but any fun I feel good about requires someone to make [and carry out] a plan. Under the circumstances, that would be me. But planning means work. And I don’t want to work, because I’m on vacation!”

I wrote that in the winter, but this time of the year often bring the same struggles and more. Yes, that old “It’s summer, and there’s nothing to do. I don’t have anyone to play with, and I’m booooooooorred!” thing. Which all of us may experience from time to time in childhood. For some singles the pattern continues into adulthood. I know it has for me. I visited a church in Houston last week which mentioned in its bulletin a “VBS” for single adults. Brilliant! I’d love to have special things like that to do in the summer. Social things, fun ones, planned and organized by someone else.

I used to struggle with this a lot more, though. I really felt bad about not having people to go out to lunch with after church on Sundays, or to be invited along on camping trips or holiday gatherings, and summers were the worst because most of the people I know consider their summer activities “family time.”

I know, I know, the obvious piece of advice is that I could grab the bull by the horns and reach out to others - especially the lonely ones - be the one to suggest fun things to do, organize them, and invite others along. None of those are my strengths, though, and I seldom had the courage and energy to overcome the inertia that stops me from doing things in my areas of weakness. Yeah, I can be a little pathetic, I know, and awareness of that makes me less likely to wish myself on other people - I have a hard time believing they might want to have me around.

I wondered if this summer would be harder than ever on that account, given how much “space” there is in my life already because of the sabbatical.

3. Sabbatical Fruit

But guess what? The sabbatical seems to be actually working! I may never like taking social initiative or organizing events, but the energy and courage to take on those things anyway, it's there. I'm also more hopeful and interested in the world around me. I have the strength and support I need to develop creative responses to life's challenges. And I'm even finding the roots of my strange and destructive tendency to assume that I'm unwelcome in other people's lives.

Perhaps as a result, the longer I’m on sabbatical the more things I think of that I could do while I’m on sabbatical. It will be over in a few months, but there are so many people I’d like to see, new skills or projects I’d like to try, old activities I’d like to revisit. And many of my conversations and the things I read about or experience just seem richer and more meaningful. I’m getting a lot more out of everything these days.

So, this summer, rather than living in a desert, I feel like I’m living in a rain forest. Everything seems colorful and interesting and growing.

Saving the Real You

Star Trek Voyager, season 5. That's what's in my DVD player. Deb and I watched several episodes last night.

In one, Seven of Nine - a former member of the Borg but now "an individual" - is attacked by a virus of sorts that re-activates and agitates the personalities that she had helped assimilate when she was part of the collective. She becomes a Ferengi, a Klingon, a lover, a child...manifesting each personality for seconds, minutes, or hours at a time, like someone who has that form of schizophrenia. (It must have been nice for Jeri Ryan, the actress, to get to display some emotion for once.)

In a last ditch effort to save her personality from being lost or destroyed, the Vulcan chief of security, Tuvok, conducts a Vulcan "mind meld." He goes inside her head and does battle on her behalf.

"Wouldn't it be nice to have a friend like that, who could go inside your head and deal with all your enemies, silence all the voices, to rescue and protect the real you?" I asked Deb.

"Tuvok would be one I'd trust with my mind," she answered. "He wouldn't go tell everyone what he'd found!"

We didn't take the conversation any further than that, but the spiritual implications may be obvious.

When I told the members of my sabbatical support group, a few months ago, that I didn't feel ready to face down all my inner struggles, one of them prayed and "gave" me this passage from Psalm 35:

¹ Contend, O LORD, with those who contend with me;
       fight against those who fight against me.
 ² Take up shield and buckler;
       arise and come to my aid.
 ³ Brandish spear and javelin
       against those who pursue me.
       Say to my soul,
       "I am your salvation."
 ⁴ May those who seek my life
       be disgraced and put to shame;
       may those who plot my ruin
       be turned back in dismay.
 ⁵ May they be like chaff before the wind,
       with the angel of the LORD driving them away.

One Man's Sabbatical Year

Did you catch this article in the paper this weekend? Looks like it is adapted from a whole book telling his story. 

It's Never Too Late To Right Your Wrongs, Big or Small

By Lee Kravitz

After I lost my job in October 2007, I took stock of my life and didn't like what I saw. Working as hard as I had over the years, I had become disconnected from the people who mattered most to me.

My wife and three young children were afraid to approach me. My daughter told people, “Daddy never smiles.” I hadn't talked to some of my closest friends in more than a decade.

Instead of rushing back into the job market, I decided to spend a year reconnecting with my friends and relatives and making amends. I devoted myself to tending to what I called “my unfinished business.”

>> Keep reading.

Work and Rest in Heaven

Here's something else from Mark Buchanan, who wrote The Rest of God: Restoring Your Soul by Restoring Sabbath. This is from an earlier book, Things Unseen: Living in Light of Forever. I'm finding much of what he says really helpful. And, in general, I'm finding that lifting my eyes toward eternal things is essential for finding perspective and lasting peace for the here and now.

Here's an idea that fits in the overlap between these two books:

Heaven, says Buchanan, is both a place of rest and work. Here on earth, we look to work to fulfill us, rest to renew us, and both fall short. Our rest isn't that restful. Our work isn't that fruitful. We were made to enjoy both, but we only get glimpses of each at their best.

"But heaven is utterly restorative in both work and rest. The Bible depicts the reward of heaven as both a granting of work and a bestowal of rest: The faithful servant is simultaneously given more jobs to do and yet invited to enjoy the perfect Sabbath (see Hebrews 4, Luke 19:11-26).

"I said that heavenly things like this are hard to render in earth's grammar, but maybe not impossible. Imagine a time when you did a good work. You were exhilarated, had a euphoric sense of breakthrough and accomplishment. You felt an honest pride in a task well done. You were thankful and humble all at once. You experienced community. Others gave heart and soul to the work. You needed one another. You told each other so.

"And imagine a time of good rest. You felt completely relaxed and restored. No worries troubled your waking or your sleeping. You had nothing you had to do and were free for anything you chose. You could fish or sleep or rest or garden. The tenseness and tiredness in you vanished. You began to think clearly, pray freely, play joyfully. You entered deeply into fellowship and worship, into silence and laughter, and found a healing rhythm for all of it. You experienced shalom, the flourishing re-creative vitality of God's breath moving through you. Imagine now those two things joined seamlessly together, every flaw in them removed, and the whole never fading.

"Heaven." 

Mark Buchanan, Things Unseen, pp. 82-83.

More bits of Buchanan at previous posts Those Who Will Not Stop and The Drug Called Busyness.

Three Months on Sabbatical

Some of the things I've done these last three months. Click to see it full-size.

Craft Properly Practiced

Revisiting a book I was reading five years ago and included in a 2005 newsletter...

Knitting Without Tears

“Most people have an obsession; mine is knitting,” writes Elizabeth Zimmerman in her 1970's book Knitting Without Tears. “Your hobby may be pie-baking, playing the piano, or potbelly-stove collecting, and you can sympathize with my enthusiasm, having an obsession of your own. Will you forgive my single-mindedness, and my tendency to see knitting in everything?”

My mom gave me the book as a present a few years back when I decided to learn how to knit. Although I am not yet a knitter and maybe never will be, I like Elizabeth’s attitude:

“[I often hear] the infuriating remark, ‘I’ve always wanted to knit, but I just can’t.’ Pish, my good woman, you can plan meals, can’t you? You can put your hair up? You can type, write fairly legibly, shuffle cards? All of these are more difficult than knitting. You just don’t want to knit, so why pretend that you do? It’s not compulsory; take up something else.’

“If you hate to knit, why, bless you, don’t; follow your secret heart and take up something else. But if you start out knitting with enjoyment, you will probably continue in this pleasant path.”

“Properly practiced, knitting soothes the troubled spirit, and it doesn’t hurt the untroubled spirit either ... When I say properly practiced, I mean executed in a relaxed manner, without anxiety, strain, or tension, but with confidence, inventiveness, pleasure, and ultimately, pride.”

Ask yourself: Do you have a craft? Are you "following your secret heart"? Have you found a way to leave anxiety, strain, and tension behind, making room for confidence, pleasure, and pride?

Missionaries and Stress

1. Fellowship in Print

It's true, I've been reading a lot. Forty books, I realized, these last three months - including the last two-thirds of the Bible. Most of the books were shorter, though - one-day reads.

I think a big reason I read is to know I'm not alone. Of course, I still like people better than books and imagine I always will. But without as much people time, the books have been great.

Last time I was on sabbatical I was overseas and had quite limited access to things written in English. The up-side of that was that it created pressure to really work on the language learning. After a few months of Uzbek I could tell stories and make people laugh. That was a huge turning point in feeling at home. I never got to the point where I could sit and talk to people without their willingness to work at understanding what I was saying, but God in his grace gave me people who would make that commitment for my sake. And maybe for their own too.

This time it's different; I'm surrounded by English speakers. Yet choosing to live a quieter, simpler life has been good for me. I'm hopeful it will make a difference when I get back into the working world again.

2. Reading Marjory Foyle

"Everyone is made differently, especially in personality structure and physique. Everyone has different gifts, and these differences create broad spectrum of Christian usefulness. As a general rule, God plans to put square pegs in square holes." (p. 44)

I just finished reading Overcoming Missionary Stress, by Marjory Foyle. Somehow I ended up with a first edition (1987). Poking around I see it's been updated several times since then, under the title Honorably Wounded. The latest version came out just a few months ago. That may explain how my copy ended up on someone's giveaway pile. I rather like the quaint, old-fashioned feeling of this copy and will not go out of my way to get the new one, though since the field of member care in missions has grown a great deal the newer editions would no doubt cover useful additional material.

The author served as a medical missionary for more than 30 years, retired shortly before writing this book and began an itinerant consulting ministry, based out of London. As the cover copy has it, "In this eminently practical book, Dr. Marjory Foyle, an experienced psychiatrist with a worldwide practice, explains what stress is, why Christian workers can be particularly prone to it, and how they can both copy with and prevent it."

When I pack off a short-term team to go overseas I usually make sure they have a paper or electronic copy of Where There Is No Doctor - handy even where there is one, as it can help you figure out what is wrong, how serious it is, and what might be done about it. This book might be titled "Where There Is No Psychiatrist." Even though member care and mental health care are more available for missionaries than once they were, many workers still find themselves overextended and isolated. They may not have the resources to see what is wrong or find a healthy way to respond.

A woman I once interviewed told me how inconsolable she was after her father suddenly passed away, half a world away. She was able to go back for his funeral, but on returning to the field she felt quite alone in her stifled grief and wondered if she was going crazy; there was nobody who could tell her if she wasn't.

Foyle does a great job covering a wide range of struggles and stresses common in cross-cultural service and suggesting ways to respond. I appreciate her positive, encouraging approach. She emphasizes that most of the problems we have are normal and can be explained and treated. She's also quick to point out the advantages of the missionary life, and also the advantages of having struggles. My copy has chapters on stresses related to selection and preparation, culture shock, interpersonal relationships, and reentry,  as well as singleness, marriage, raising children, and raising adolescents. Click through on the Amazon link above to see the TOC and introduction to the latest edition.

3. Add Sugar, Stir Vigorously

This passage from the chapter on stress in marriage made me smile:

"Suppose the husband has had a bad day at work, and  by the end of it is fuming. It is very easy for him to go home and blow-off the irritation on the first person he meets, usually his wife...

"This is called 'displacement' - letting off anger on a substitute rather than dealing with the real cause. It is actually difficult to deal with the real cause while one is still angry, so anger should first be safely released...

"In this case, the husband would have been wiser not to go straight home. In many Asian countries there are tea shops where people gather to drink tea, read the paper, and often enter a political argument. The angry husband should stop at the tea shop, and whether or not he takes sugar in tea should add a spoonful and stir it hard. The sugar raises his depleted blood sugar, in itself a good thing to do if angry, and the act of stirring vigorously is a physical way of displacing anger. Then he should read the paper and discuss the content with the others in the shop, if it is suitable to do so. By these means he will displace his anger harmlessly, and be able to go home in a calmer frame of mind." (p. 46)

The Essence of Sabbath

I finally had to return my copy of Mark Buchanan's The Rest of God: Restoring your Soul by Restoring Sabbath. I copied down huge chunks of it into my journal. I may still have to buy a copy for myself... and maybe a few more to pass on to friends and supporters. It's a great book. Here's a taste:

“The root idea of Sabbath is simple as rain falling, basic as breathing. It’s that all living things – and many nonliving things too – thrive only by an ample measure of stillness.” (p. 60)

“There are two main things that make Sabbath an invented country, a place we read about but never get to. One is busyness. The other is legalism.” (p. 106).

“Sabbath-keeping is more art than science. It is more poetry than arithmetic. It is something we get a knack for more than memorize procedures about. It is like a painting: done by numbers, it comes off stiff and blotchy. But done with discipline and imagination, it both captures and enhances life.” (p. 111)

“I submit this as Sabbath’s golden rule: cease from what is necessary. Embrace that which gives life.” (p. 129)

“If there’s one god of the age that Christians especially pay homage to, it’s the god of utility…. Everything we do we seek to justify on the grounds of its usefulness....What’s missing is a theology of play. There are many things – eating ice cream, diving off cliffs, sleeping in Saturday mornings, learning bird calls, watching movies – that can’t be shoehorned into a utilitarian scheme… but they might make us feel more alive, more ourselves, and that’s useful enough.” (pp. 138-139)

“Jesus’ Sabbath-keeping always looked, to his enemies, like Sabbath breaking… he was simply fulfilling the day’s true intent.

“'The Sabbath,’ Jesus said, ‘was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.’ (Mark 2:27)

“And that, actually, is all we need to know to keep the Sabbath holy. This day was made for us. God gave it to you and me for our sake, for our benefit, for our strengthening and our replenishment.” (p. 219)

> Listen to Dale Flanders' sermon Restless, largely based on this book.

Sabbatical and Improvisation

Sipping

There's nothing like sipping a soothing cup of Nescafe 3 in 1 with an English-speaking friend while traveling across the continents... is there?

Yet I have to say the best coffee I've ever had is right here in Denver at Kaladi's, a coffee shop close to downtown. I never seem to go there anymore. So when I was thinking about items to add to my menu of tasty ideas for things to do on sabbatical, I added "go to Kaladi's!"

Strolling

I'm not much of a shopper, but am not immune to the mild stimulation of browsing in shops, especially small, independent ones where you don't know what you'll find - so that's on my menu of ideas too.

When I lived in Central Asia I remember a secret feeling of delight in strolling slowly past the market near my house known, in Russian, as the "miracle bazaar." You could get anything there - maybe.

In Colorado the equivalent would be hitting the garage sales on a Friday morning. With office hours and staff meetings I've never been able to do it, but now I can. So maybe some morning I will.

Improvising

When people ask me about what plans I have while I'm on sabbatical, I've had a hard time putting such things into words. I think they expect me to share something more impressive than that I'm two-thirds of the way through The Three Musketeers.

But the fact is, this season, I don't want to make big plans.

I want to do small things.

And I want to make them up as I go.

This is a long way of apologizing for not posting my response to the book The Vertical Self yet, something I said I would do. I believe I'll still get to it. It got pushed back a bit. Even though I'm not busy. And haven't gone to Kaladi's or hit the garage sales. Other things have come up. For example, Friday morning I babysat for a friend, then joined another for a trip to the Western Slope to hook up with a couple families we know there, both of which are on the path to getting themselves overseas.

Life can't always be lived improvisationally, but giving myself permission to live this way, now, has certainly reduced my stress levels.

April 15 newsletter – Life in the Slow Lane

Note: This post was sent out by email in April but not added to this site until August. See also: February Newsletter - Lucy and the Magician's Book

This is what the Sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel, says: In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength. – Isaiah 30:15

Dear friends,

Perhaps you’re not interested in a newsletter that’s more personal essay than ministry report, but maybe you are. I’m a third of the way through my sabbatical and thought it would be good to “check in.”

“Our hope for you, what we’d say would make it an effective sabbatical, is that you would hear from God. That you would hear from God about your past, your present, and your future.” That’s what the organizers of the workshop I attended back in February said to all of us who came. I took their words to heart.

Clearly, the “future” bit would be best saved for the end; the “past” bit sounded intimidating, not where I wanted to start. But these two months, the portion of the sabbatical focused on rest, have been so helpful in teaching me to recognize and adapt to the rhythms of my life in the present. Some people find it pretty easy to live one day at a time. But for me, I knew learning how to rest would take experimenting, some practice.

Life in the Slow Lane

Here are a couple of things that have helped. Maybe they would work for you, too.

Menus: I stopped making to-do lists; instead I bought a set of Crayola markers and a big tablet of construction paper and started making colorful “menus” of healthy and delicious-sounding ideas, each of which might be a good choice for any given day. I’ve let myself off the hook on obligations. I’ve pursued mild adventures like learning to bake my own bread, going to the movies, and reading books I’d not gotten around to before.

Margins: I’ve paid attention to what it felt like to have big margins in my life, to be relaxed instead of rushed or under pressure. I like that feeling. I’ve also tried – though this has been a bigger challenge – to honestly examine and pray about feelings of guilt, shame, or pain when they came up rather than putting up walls to keep them away until “I have time to deal with them.”

Boredom? Two words: embrace it. Well, I don’t like being bored or lonely, but am willing to accept some level of silence and solitude if that’s part of the cost (blessing?) of dodging the bullet of busyness. Not being able to say, “I’m keeping busy!” sounds un-American, I know, but I’m getting used to it. I’m cultivating my taste for a quiet, content life. Still a ways to go. But if all this sabbatical accomplishes is to teach me what it feels like to live one day at a time, it will have been a great gift.

Projects

Some of the things I’ve done might not have been on someone else’s list of “things OK to do on the Sabbath,” but everybody’s different. I served on a committee helping several hundred members of my church complete a plan to read through the Bible in 90 days (see http://www.biblein90days.org). In March alone we read from Jeremiah through Revelation! But it was great, and without all the pressures of ordinary life I was able to keep up with it and enjoy it immensely. I feel like I got to know God better, saw his passion in the message of the prophets, his majesty in the poetry and psalms, his mercy in the gospels, his guidance in the epistles, his plan unfolding throughout. Great stuff.

I’ve also been helping pull together and edit a devotional book for PIONEERS. It includes reflective writings from PIONEERS staff around the world and will be distributed at an upcoming international leadership event. Working on this has helped me feel connected to a great family of people who feel the same pressures I do and more and are learning to trust God in their own lives and the unlikely things they are attempting in their ministries.

Meanwhile, I’m happy to say the world is carrying on just fine without my efforts. Missions Catalyst e- Magazine continues to roll along and is doing well. The ethnography team I trained has been to North India and back and lived to tell the tale. They are working on some follow-up projects I hope to share with you later. I expect to re-engage with both the ezine and ethnography projects in August or September.

Facing the Grief of the Past

Back when February roared in with two 60-hour work weeks, I knew that the deceleration into sabbatical mode would probably be awkward and painful. And so it was. Staying in my own home was much easier to arrange and less risky than taking a sabbatical on the other side of the planet as I did eight years ago, but it’s been tough to establish boundaries. I’m still copied on a lot of emails, for example. Also, my neighborhood seems haunted by the absence of people I loved who moved away years ago. Do I need to get away? I wasn’t planning to travel and don’t have money put aside for it. But maybe the journey will be more metaphorical. I’ve started paying attention to the things that upset me and look for the patterns and meanings behind them.

Moving out of the office was tough. Especially sorting and packing up my research and networking stuff, the treasures and debris from so many years of ministry. What files should I keep because I may use them again? What things should be tossed out or laid to rest? Over the years, little by little, I had taken on a ministry role a friend labeled “keeper of the tribal lore.” With the tribe scattered and most of them assimilated into new communities I feel like a grieving widow, an abandoned child, or at least like a librarian or professor whose school is being shut down for lack of interest. I fear that much of what I’ve done may no longer be useful. But I still value and care about this stuff. Grief continues to wash over me in waves.

I realize part of why I’m hesitant to take on new challenges and relationships is that I’m afraid of accumulating more disappointments. Yet pain avoidance is no foundation for a life either. So, in addition to learning what it feels like to stop and rest, I think I need to learn what it feels like to “feel” and accept disappointment without giving up.

Presumably there’s something beyond grief, something that comes along after. What would it take to renew my hope and faith? You know, so I could “soar on wings like eagles, run and not grow weary, walk and not be faint.” (Isaiah 40:31)?

Seems like you can’t just decide to be strong and courageous; you have to deal with the obstacles and hindrances that hold you back. The counselor-types I know seem to agree: when we react to something with strong emotions that we may not be able to control or explain, we’re responding from some pattern rooted far in the past. Is there something deep that God wants to resolve or heal? Is there something that will help me see these last few years through new eyes and face the future with renewed courage? If the first two months were about learning to live in the present, and the last two will help take me into the future, I suspect the middle section will be about revisiting the past.

Will You Pray?

I suppose I’m taking a risk by writing about “my problem,” instead of waiting until I can write a more satisfying piece about “my problem and how I solved it.” But I’d rather do the former and invite you to be part of the solution through prayer, so we can rejoice together when we see what God does, right? Huge thanks. And I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know if any of this strikes a chord with you or helps you in your own journey.

Recommended Reading

Several authors I’ve found helpful on what we might call Sabbath-keeping are Richard Swenson and Mark Buchanan; I’m hoping to track down some books by Marva Dawn and Wayne Muller as well. If you’d like to explore these topics for yourself, I’d suggest Buchanan’s The Rest of God as a good place to start. You might also check out http://www.mysoulrefresh.blogspot.com.


blessings,

Marti

Life, Change, and Stress

The Overload Syndrome: Learning to Live within Your Limits, by Richard Swenson

No wonder that so many people are stressed out so much of the time, says Swenson: We are living lives that are overloaded. More and more of us live as if we have 10 percent more time, money, and energy than we really have. Every human being has limits, but we tend to deny them – and experience fairly predictable results.

Where does this push to do more, to achieve more, to be in control of more actually come from? It seems to be the inevitable fruit of the religion of progress. We think that more and more should be accomplished with greater and greater efficiency. And while, amazingly, this continues to work (somewhat), the cost is high. We find ourselves facing a complexity of life that is beyond our capacity to absorb and adapt to. We have tremendously high expectations for our lives. We are saturated with media, information, and choices. We turn to work, spending, and busyness to accomplish things they just can’t deliver.

“There are only so many details that can be comfortably managed in anybody’s life. Once this number has been exceeded, one of two things happens: disorganization or frustration. … Every year we have more products, more information, more technology, more activities, more choices, more change, more traffic, more commitments, more work. In short, more of everything. Faster." (p. 43)

Swenson’s comments about change and choice, knowledge and information really hit home with me:

“William Shakespeare was born in 1564. When he died in 1616, the world around him was not very different from the world he was born into. .. and so it has been from generation to generation, for century upon century. …there has been more change from 1900 to present than in all of recorded history prior to 1900. And there is no deceleration in sight.” (p 73)

“If in 1950 we had ten activities to chose from, today – compliments of progress – we have a thousand.” (p. 65)

If, as Swenson (a medical doctor) claims, stress is basically “an internal physiologic adaptation to any change in our environment,” living a low(er?)-stress life in today’s world is going to take some serious counter-cultural living. Things like deciding not to buy any new clothes, to cancel most of one’s media subscriptions, or to stay in the same house or job even if something "better" is available. Downward mobility. Ruthlessly pruning activities; deciding to give up hurry.

Frequent moves, new jobs, changing fashions, new opportunities, new products and services and programs – constant upgrades – all sound great, but each one means making changes. And we only have so much capacity for change.

Today’s tidal wave of knowledge and information is also overwhelming. This is what I've been dealing with lately, having pulled back from my job as a gatherer and disseminator of information. Even though I love it. I really needed this break.

I suppose we could just be grateful to have so much at our fingertips, but it is so hard to unplug, or to live with mystery or ignorance when so much is out there for the knowing. I don't know about you, but I feel pressure to have opinions about so many things, to make educated decisions about ever-changing and increasingly complex issues, and to simply “keep up” with the world. Yet this pursuit frequently leads to frustration.

“Francis Bacon, a contemporary of Shakespeare, is regarded by historians as the last person to know everything in the world. Since then, each of us learns a progressively smaller percentage of all the information that exists…. Furthermore, there is no reason to suspect that the situation will suddenly reverse, giving us a chance to catch up.” (p. 136)

Unplugging is increasingly difficult. Even when not tempted, internally, I feel pressured, externally. Feel as if I must defend my position on this. To truly pull away seems irresponsible or at least anti-social. There must be something wrong with you if you don’t have an iPhone, or if you aren’t on Facebook, or your computer or camera or MP3 player is a couple years old and less fashionable and can’t do what someone else’s can. Swenson was writing in 1998, but even then he marveled at the trouble and expense he saw people making in order to give away their precious privacy, silence, and solitude, primarily through our commitment to the latest communication technologies.

“We have no excuse left for not being on-call for the universe.” (p. 45)

No wonder we are – I am – so often overwhelmed. Who can keep up?

My only real criticism of Swenson’s book is that, ironically enough, it is written in an up-to-the-minute style – chock full of statistics and “current” examples that probably worked great for the presentations he was giving at the time but seem quite dated now more than a decade later. If you're looking for something more recent that to quote/reference/recommend, you might try Swenson's just released In Search of Balance: Keys to a Stable Life. I've got a hold on it at the library. My guess is it would cover some similar ground, with more recent data. Both are from NavPress and are "Christian" books though the author teaches in secular settings as well.

Questioning

As we try to make sense of ourselves and our world it’s those “why?” questions that seem most compelling, most crucial. Maybe, if we could get answers to those, those answers would be key to it all. Yet I’m coming to believe that with complicated systems, we can’t answer those “why” questions satisfactorily. Or at least that accuracy and clarity are usually inversely proportional.

In other words, if someone gives you a short, simple, astounding answer that seems to explain everything, they’re probably missing the mark. (The charms of Twitter, the beauty of brevity, etc. notwithstanding.)

Still I keep asking, and the answers, if not complete, at least shed some light on the issues raised by the questions. One of my big questions is, “why haven’t I figured out how to manage my life by now?”

Oh, it’s not a total mess, but as I’ve slowed down and used the time and space on my hands to take a closer look at how I live and how I feel about it, I’m not too impressed with myself – and I wonder how I got this way. I’ve come to realize some of the reasons that the coping strategies that once (sort of) worked no longer do: (1) I’m a different person than I used to be and in a different place in life, and (2) the world continues to change rapidly and throw new challenges at us, challenges my old strategies are not sufficient to overcome.

Two books that have been helpful in reframing my questions and providing some partial answers. “The Overload Syndrome: Learning to Live within Your Limits,” by Richard Swenson is helping me understand why people like me live the way we do, and “The Vertical Self: How Biblical Faith Can Help Us Discover Who We are In an Age of Self Obsession,” by Mark Sayers, is helping me understand why we think about ourselves the way we do. Both offer some helpful prescriptions, alternatives, solutions. But at this point I think what’s most helpful is just seeing someone put these struggles into words and show me I’m not alone.

The next couple of blog posts will explore what these two books have to say.