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Posted: August 16th, 2007 at 12:49am By: Adele Ryan McDowell
Do you remember the George Michael song that goes "You gotta have faith, a faith, a faith"? I like that song, and I definitely like that concept.
Faith is a subject that engages me; I warm to the topic, much like a cat stretched out in a pool of sunlight.
So imagine my delight when I received a reader email with "I have faith" in the subject line. I was tickled pink with the subject line, and that turned out to be just the teaser.
The email was from a woman I will call Birdie. She agreed that I could use her email as the platform for this column. Birdie went on to write, " ... but feel like I am being lazy about not doing when I have put things in God's hands to take care of ... many problems on this side of the road, too numerous for this email. Just let me know if having faith and feeling lazy about it are weird."
"Just let me know if having faith and feeling lazy about it are weird." Oh, what an interesting thought! It really is such a unique query, and it is such a tender and brave concern. Here is this woman who is working on handing it over to God and living her faith, and she wonders if she is being lazy.
Unlike Birdie, I might have been ranting and raving at the Big Guy to pick up the pace; tapping my foot impatiently as it was all taking way too long; and rolling my eyes, which would be a dead give-away to my creeping lack of faith. There are days when my less evolved self gets out of bed first.
However, it was a good day when I responded to Birdie:
"I think having faith is plenty. Faith is really more of a verb and less than a noun. You know how the theologians talk about acts of faith. I would guess you have made repeated acts of faith.
"So the question is: Are you lazy or simply waiting with trust and walking in the desert?
"If you say, 'Yes, I am lazy,' I then wonder if that is your soul telling you to simply not act now. I wonder if you are so tired from dealing with everything you are dealing with, that you cannot make another tiny step. I wonder if you are too hard on you.
"I suggest, knowing none of the details, that you be very gentle and loving with yourself. Hold on to your faith, talk to God and honor the God within you.
"And for the record, I don't think you are weird."
Here, in part, is Birdie's detailed response:
"I have had to turn a lot of things over to God ... because I would end up screwing up and things just would not turn out right. My son is a hopefully recovering addict, my new husband is a great-hearted man, but can be cranky to the point of my exhaustion, my disabilities are so time-consuming and no one believes I have them. If I could turn purple, I would and say, SEE I AM SICK!!!!! ...
"But because of many things that have happened to me in my life, with life in general, I am tired of trying to be the "fixer." ... I am hoping that I am, like you said, simply waiting with trust and walking in the desert. ... I may be too hard on myself too. ...
"I am going out to my patio now, and look up in the sky, and say my nightly prayers ... my ritual. ... My brother-in-law once told me he did not think his prayers went through the roof, and I told him to do what I do, go outside, surely God will get the prayers that way. ... "
I like Birdie more and more with each email. She is so real, so direct, so honest. Birdie has met considerable challenges along the way, and yet she continues to choose, day in and day out, a relationship with God. Every night she is on her patio saying her prayers. Birdie is faithful in her actions, in her constancy and in her ongoing relationship with the Divine. Birdie is tenacious in her faith.
And Birdie has learned, as they say in 12 Step programs, to "Let Go and Let God." I think that is such an enormous act of faith. It is pure surrender and willingness and trust that God will resolve the issue. It is never easy to step away from your own self-created or someone else's craziness. It can feel counterintuitive to walk away from high drama; it can be so compelling.
I knew a nun once who had started a Montessori kindergarten on a shoestring. She had some large financial concerns in meeting the monthly bills. Her tack, every month, was to put the bills under her statue of St. Joseph. She knew, without a smidgeon of doubt, that they would be covered - and they were, every month. There were no mysterious deposits to the school's bank account. She trusted. She had faith. She knew a parent might walk in the door and offer help to repair the boiler or money for the plumbing. There was always just what she needed - every month.
Then there is the story of the young mother with two small children and her husband working two jobs. Sometimes there was not enough money for food at the end of the month, but this mom always had faith that it would get better. One evening, for the first time ever, she was forced to consider the fact that dinner would be "stone soup," a term from the Depression Era, for soup being made out stones that were boiled to draw out minerals when there was nothing left to cook. This mom was going to make soup from whatever bits were left in her fridge and cupboards and hope that the warm liquid would fill her family enough so that they could sleep. As she opened the empty cupboards in despair, there was a knock at the door. Unexpectedly, there was friend with a piping-hot dinner for the family.
Would I say the nun, the young mother and Birdie are lazy? No, I would not. I would say they are all women of faith. Their respective faiths are strong enough to ride the waves of unknowing. Their spiritual backbone is strong enough to withstand some wandering in the metaphorical desert until the horizon becomes clear or the oasis presents itself.
Birdie and the others all think like the mystic Julian of Norwich, who wrote, "All will be well and all will be well and all manner of things will be well."
And so it is.
P.S. Thank you, Birdie, for asking your great question and sharing so personally your strength and your vulnerability. You have made a difference in my life. Many blessings to you and your family.
— — —
Dr. Adele Ryan McDowell, Ph.D., is a psychologist, empath and shaman who likes looking at life with the big viewfinder. Her email address is {email ARMCDOWELL@aol.com}ARMCDOWELL@aol.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Adele Ryan McDowell.
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Do you remember the George Michael song that goes "You gotta have faith, a faith, a faith"? I like that song, and I definitely like that concept.
Faith is a subject that engages me; I warm to the topic, much like a cat stretched out in a pool of sunlight.
So imagine my delight when I received a reader email with "I have faith" in the subject line. I was tickled pink with the subject line, and that turned out to be just the teaser.
The email was from a woman I will call Birdie. She agreed that I could use her email as the platform for this column. Birdie went on to write, " ... but feel like I am being lazy about not doing when I have put things in God's hands to take care of ... many problems on this side of the road, too numerous for this email. Just let me know if having faith and feeling lazy about it are weird."
"Just let me know if having faith and feeling lazy about it are weird." Oh, what an interesting thought! It really is such a unique query, and it is such a tender and brave concern. Here is this woman who is working on handing it over to God and living her faith, and she wonders if she is being lazy.
Unlike Birdie, I might have been ranting and raving at the Big Guy to pick up the pace; tapping my foot impatiently as it was all taking way too long; and rolling my eyes, which would be a dead give-away to my creeping lack of faith. There are days when my less evolved self gets out of bed first.
However, it was a good day when I responded to Birdie:
"I think having faith is plenty. Faith is really more of a verb and less than a noun. You know how the theologians talk about acts of faith. I would guess you have made repeated acts of faith.
"So the question is: Are you lazy or simply waiting with trust and walking in the desert?
"If you say, 'Yes, I am lazy,' I then wonder if that is your soul telling you to simply not act now. I wonder if you are so tired from dealing with everything you are dealing with, that you cannot make another tiny step. I wonder if you are too hard on you.
"I suggest, knowing none of the details, that you be very gentle and loving with yourself. Hold on to your faith, talk to God and honor the God within you.
"And for the record, I don't think you are weird."
Here, in part, is Birdie's detailed response:
"I have had to turn a lot of things over to God ... because I would end up screwing up and things just would not turn out right. My son is a hopefully recovering addict, my new husband is a great-hearted man, but can be cranky to the point of my exhaustion, my disabilities are so time-consuming and no one believes I have them. If I could turn purple, I would and say, SEE I AM SICK!!!!! ...
"But because of many things that have happened to me in my life, with life in general, I am tired of trying to be the "fixer." ... I am hoping that I am, like you said, simply waiting with trust and walking in the desert. ... I may be too hard on myself too. ...
"I am going out to my patio now, and look up in the sky, and say my nightly prayers ... my ritual. ... My brother-in-law once told me he did not think his prayers went through the roof, and I told him to do what I do, go outside, surely God will get the prayers that way. ... "
I like Birdie more and more with each email. She is so real, so direct, so honest. Birdie has met considerable challenges along the way, and yet she continues to choose, day in and day out, a relationship with God. Every night she is on her patio saying her prayers. Birdie is faithful in her actions, in her constancy and in her ongoing relationship with the Divine. Birdie is tenacious in her faith.
And Birdie has learned, as they say in 12 Step programs, to "Let Go and Let God." I think that is such an enormous act of faith. It is pure surrender and willingness and trust that God will resolve the issue. It is never easy to step away from your own self-created or someone else's craziness. It can feel counterintuitive to walk away from high drama; it can be so compelling.
I knew a nun once who had started a Montessori kindergarten on a shoestring. She had some large financial concerns in meeting the monthly bills. Her tack, every month, was to put the bills under her statue of St. Joseph. She knew, without a smidgeon of doubt, that they would be covered - and they were, every month. There were no mysterious deposits to the school's bank account. She trusted. She had faith. She knew a parent might walk in the door and offer help to repair the boiler or money for the plumbing. There was always just what she needed - every month.
Then there is the story of the young mother with two small children and her husband working two jobs. Sometimes there was not enough money for food at the end of the month, but this mom always had faith that it would get better. One evening, for the first time ever, she was forced to consider the fact that dinner would be "stone soup," a term from the Depression Era, for soup being made out stones that were boiled to draw out minerals when there was nothing left to cook. This mom was going to make soup from whatever bits were left in her fridge and cupboards and hope that the warm liquid would fill her family enough so that they could sleep. As she opened the empty cupboards in despair, there was a knock at the door. Unexpectedly, there was friend with a piping-hot dinner for the family.
Would I say the nun, the young mother and Birdie are lazy? No, I would not. I would say they are all women of faith. Their respective faiths are strong enough to ride the waves of unknowing. Their spiritual backbone is strong enough to withstand some wandering in the metaphorical desert until the horizon becomes clear or the oasis presents itself.
Birdie and the others all think like the mystic Julian of Norwich, who wrote, "All will be well and all will be well and all manner of things will be well."
And so it is.
P.S. Thank you, Birdie, for asking your great question and sharing so personally your strength and your vulnerability. You have made a difference in my life. Many blessings to you and your family.
— — —
Dr. Adele Ryan McDowell, Ph.D., is a psychologist, empath and shaman who likes looking at life with the big viewfinder. Her email address is {email ARMCDOWELL@aol.com}ARMCDOWELL@aol.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Adele Ryan McDowell.
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