Afraid of alone

A little while ago, as I left hanging out with a friend and was going home to an empty house, I tensed up and started getting really anxious. I didn’t want to be alone. I was afraid of a Saturday night at home, because, well, I didn’t want to feel lonely.

This wouldn’t be any big deal, if say, I was extremely extroverted, and the thought of a quiet night at home was terrifying to me. But I’m just the opposite, and I generally enjoy time by myself. I recharge when I am alone. But for some reason, this time, being alone was scary to me.

Image from Pinterest

A few days later, I was talking with a dear friend about this loneliness. Where had it come from? It had moved in like a foggy cold front… Just hanging over everything, and blanketing it in a gray haze. Why did I resist being by myself? Why did the prospect of a quiet night at home with a copy of Team of Rivals and a glass of wine make me anxious? We talked, and as our conversation drew to a close, that same feeling rose up again in me: this quality time of hanging out was over, and I was going home — most likely to an empty house, and not much else to do but peruse other people’s lives on Pinterest and go to bed.

My friend stepped in though, and pierced the thoughts that I was already beginning to have. (If you don’t have a friend like that, you need one. They point out the truth when we are too close to see it). She said, “Caroline, you shouldn’t be afraid of being alone.”

She expounded on what she said, and reminded me that there was a difference between being alone and loneliness. You see, I had started to fear being alone because, sometimes, that’s when the loneliness would start to creep in. But what I needed to be reminded of is that there is a stark difference between alone and lonely.

I had been running away from the very thing that I needed — time alone, time in solitude. Because the truth is that there is company in our alone-ness. I am finding that those times when I am most afraid to be alone, those are the times when Jesus comes. Perhaps he doesn’t speak too much, but He most certainly comes. And in being alone, I am reminded, again, that I am really not at all lonely, but that He is there, ever-present with me.

There is much silence to be cultivated, and great stretches of solitude to be guarded, for these, silence and solitude, are as essential to the soul as meat and potatoes are to the body. – Eugene Peterson, Answering God

Reason to sing

Sorry I’ve been MIA for the last week. I came down with a nasty sinus infection last week that knocked me out. But I’m back, and bound and determined to write up here a few times this week.

Today is Tuesday, which means… new music!!

Honestly, I love waking up on Tuesdays (or staying up on Monday nights) to be able to listen to new music.

When it comes to music, I am ravenous. I devour songs and albums very quickly. I find them on Rdio or in iTunes, and wind up listening to them, repeatedly, until I can simply wear them out. So my appetite for new music — for new sounds, for new lyrics that help articulate the emotions I feel, for new albums that move me and speak to me and inspire me– is unending.

Today, All Sons and Daughters release their second EP, Reason to Sing:

They released the song “Reason to sing”  as a live track sometime last year, and it quickly became a song of my heart in this past season. There are times when we are broken or sad, and it is simply hard to sing. When we’re in seasons that are painful, or seasons that we don’t understand, it can be hard to sing. How can we praise God for the pain? And so we ask for a reason to sing… to be reminded of who God is, that He is good, that He is here, and that He is at work. Like All Sons and Daughters sing, “I need to know that You’re still holding the whole world in Your hands; that is a reason to sing.”

I’ve listened to the album a couple times now, and while I like all the tracks, “Oh Our Lord” and “Wake Up” are standing out to me right now.

Go grab this album. It’s only $6, and the songs will speak to your heart and soul and cause you to worship God. You won’t be disappointed.

Reading – Favorites from 2011 and Goals for 2012

My One Word is supposed to keep me from making vague resolutions that I really have no likelihood of keeping. But I do like setting goals. It helps me cast vision for the year, and give me some clear objectives. The last few years, I’ve tried setting goals in several different areas of life (physical, intellectual, spiritual, etc.). Some have been better than others.

Last year, I set a very ambitious reading goal for me. I wanted to read a book each week. I didn’t make it very far, for several reasons. Mainly, I was just really tired. I didn’t exactly have it in me. But I did read a decent number of books last year.  These were some of my favorites and ones that you definitely don’t want to miss!

Unbroken, by Laura Hillenbrand (Author of Seabiscuit)

One of the best books I’ve ever read. Beautiful, redemptive story. Cried my way through the end.

 

 Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins

Go ahead and read all three of them.

 

 

Bossypants, by Tina Fey

Simply hilarious. Tina Fey is a hero.

 

 

 Jesus, My Father, the CIA, and Me: A Memoir… Of Sorts,

by Ian Cron

Maybe my favorite read of the year. Ian Cron‘s voice is refreshing, and his story is heartbreaking and hopeful.

This year, I’m rebooting this goal and going after it again, but just a little different. I’ve scaled back a bit, and will try for 36 books this year. That’s three a month. It is doable, but it will still take time and discipline. Setting a goal like this helps give me discipline to actually finish books (rather than juggle 3 or 4 at a time). I’ll be keeping track of my books read over at Goodreads, if you want to follow along.

My first read of the new year: Duskwalker, by my friend, Jay. It’s weird to say your friend wrote a novel. But it was awesome! And I can’t wait for it to be published. So, kudos, Jay! Congrats on finishing your novel, and thanks for letting me read it.

Any recommendations of books I should read this year?

January White

I love music, and so I made a playlist called “New” the other day. Music that speaks to new beginnings, new creation. It’s a work in progress, certainly, and I’m sure (and hoping) it will grow as this year of “new” goes on. I wanted to share one of the songs from it with you, “January White,” by Sleeping at Last.

Last year, Sleeping at Last wrote an EP every month. The songs often match the mood of the month or the season. January is a cold, bleak, wintery month. But this is a happy song, full of ukulele, that has been breathing life and light into my bones. The song speaks of the promise and hope of new beginnings.

well, we could let our guards down a little easier this time,
we could trust that when there’s joy, there’s nothing dark behind.
in spite of history,
hope is january white.

On their blog, Sleeping at Last said this line was a nod to Brene Brown (another one of my favorites), and her idea of “foreboding joy.” Maybe you’ve felt it before. You’re at the height of joy, and a thought comes in that something bad is going to happen that will take the joy away. It’s like we try to beat disappointment to the punch. If we think the joy won’t last forever, then when it finally does end, we won’t be disappointed; it won’t hurt as badly.  (This isn’t an optimism/pessimism thing. Brown says it’s our culture’s problem with vulnerability).

I can relate to this all too well. I don’t always think something totally awful will happen. I’m not fatalistic. But sometimes, I catch myself questioning just how long the joy might last.

Especially during the winter months, when I am very much affected by the cold weather and shorter days, joy can be a battle. So on January days when I do feel joyful, this tendency of fearing what’s on the other side of the present joy (sadness, grief, loneliness) can start to creep up. I brace myself from the surely impending sadness, rather than living openly and expansively in joy.

This song has helped me to live in my joy. To be fully present in my joy, today, January 5. I don’t have to live in the possible fear of the joy ending. I can trust that when there’s joy, there’s nothing dark behind.

I hope you enjoy the song. And if you, like me, are affected by these winter months, take heart. The joy you feel today may not last forever, no. But don’t fear what’s behind it.

Write it down and make it plain

I spent a few hours the other day reflecting on the past year. Sitting in Starbucks, I read through my journal from 2011, reflecting on all that God did. Then I took the time to fill out the last few pages in my journal, summarizing everything from 2011. I wrote about the tears I cried, the pains and memories I faced, the moves and decisions I made.

It was time consuming, yes. But so worth it. Because even just a few days before, when I thought about 2011, I only saw the hard, dark things. I wasn’t thinking about all the growth and the good that did happen. One day, someone even remarked to me about what a transformative year this has been for me. I nodded my head, and said sure. But inside, I didn’t agree. I didn’t see the transformation God worked in my life. I only saw the nights I cried myself to sleep. I didn’t see the mornings I woke up feeling God’s mercy closer to me than ever before. I saw the hard decisions I had to make, but I didn’t see the fruit they had reaped in my life.

So a few days later, after some prompting from a friend, I decided to look back. I read nearly all of my journal entries. I looked at where I was a year ago, and where I am today.

As I read and wrote, I began to remember the numerous breakthrough conversations I had.  I remembered the things I said “no” to, and the effect that pruning had in my life.  I remembered the fears, and the victories that were waiting on the other side of them. I remembered the new friends I made, and the friendships that deepened.

As I stepped back and looked at the year in its entirety, my vision became clearer. I could see the year for what it was. I could see the transforming work of God. I could see His hand in everything. And so I went from calling this year “hard” to calling it “hard, but good.” And I was filled with new hope for this new year.

And so, before we launch headlong into 2012, I invite you to reflect on 2011. Take the time, even if it’s just 20 minutes, to write it down. Like it says in Habbakuk 2, “Write it down and make it plain.” I pray that as you do so, you would see the goodness of God in 2011, and that you would be filled with hope and expectation for 2012.

New

Happy 2012!

For the last few years, rather than making New Year’s resolutions, I’ve picked one word to frame my year. I got the idea from my friend Scott and his church in Wilmington. The basic idea is this: pick a word, one word, that you want to grow in, or learn, or feel like God is speaking to you.

My word this year:  New.

2011 was a big year. There were lots of changes, lots of tears and lots of growth. It was a very hard, but very good year. There were times this year, even recently, when things felt so dark and so broken that I started to wonder if it would stay like that forever, if hope would ever rise up again in my soul. There were days I got caught believing that things would never change.

My friend Becca gave me my own copy of Bittersweet this year for Christmas. (After I spent the last year reading hers and borrowing it off and on). I’ve read the stories already, many more than once, but I was excited to read them again. And so as I sat in the RDU airport, waiting for my flight to Phoenix for Christmas, I opened up Bittersweet to re-read “Evergreen,” one of the few Christmas-y ones in there. And Shauna’s words in that essay spoke directly to where I was so often this year.

She writes,

“When things are dark and splintering, I get stuck, believing that it will always be how it is right now, that new life  will never come, that change will never really break into my life…

I don’t know where you are these days, what’s broken down and what’s beautiful in your life this season. I don’t know if this is a season of sweetness or one of sadness. But I’m learning that neither last forever…That’s how life is. It won’t be sweet forever. But it won’t be bitter forever either. If everywhere you look these days, it’s wintery, desolate, lonely, practice believing in springtime. It always, always comes…New life will spring from this same ground. This season will end, and something entirely new will follow it.“ 

I read these words, and I cried. Bawled. In an airport, remember. People were staring. But I didn’t care. God was clearly speaking to me, through this book. I cried because so often this year, I wanted it to be over. I cried because I know the dark splintery-ness all too well. I cried because these words spoke of new life, new hope.  These words reminded me that every morning, the sun does rise. And after each winter, spring does come.

So wherever you are this year — whether you couldn’t wait for 2012 to get here or not, rejoice in this new day, this new season. Like Shauna said, practice believing in springtime. Practice believing that God can and will make everything new.

Join with me in believing in new life, and clinging to the one who will bring it. For God is saying,

“Behold, I am making all things new.” Revelation 21:5

Quiet

The last few days have been some of the busiest of the season. This December. This year maybe. I understand now why my parents struggled every year to get a Christmas card out before Christmas. Life just happens. There is shopping to be done and party after party to attend. And we try to tie up loose ends at work so that maybe, just maybe, we can rest over the holidays. But that often means less sleep and more stress. What a way to lead up to the day we’ve all been anticipating — Christmas day, Jesus’ birth. Running and running, so that when we finally do arrive, we are to exhausted to even rest, let alone celebrate.

I’m in Arizona now with my family for Christmas. I have lots of family out here in Phoenix (aunts, uncles and cousins) and my two grandmas came too. So there’s twelve of us gathering in two houses for five days of Christmas festivities. Constant games — cards, football, Celebrity (or the hat game) –you name it. Delicious food and plenty of wine.

I stepped away today to just be alone. For a moment. To let my mind and soul sit still, so all the worries and stresses could settle. Like the snow settling to the bottom of a recently shaken, but now sitting snow globe.

So I’d encourage you to do the same. If you can, take time each day — even if only for ten minutes — to be alone. To quiet yourself and listen — to God, and to what your own self (your mind, your body) might be saying. And then listen to the quiet.

I pray as you listen that you would, in that quiet space, hear with your soul, the coming nearness of Jesus.

God with us in thin places

Coming to a holiday season full of joy and merriment is terrific. The world, although at war, is right. Family and friends are healthy and happy. The days spent at home with loved ones are looked forward to.

For others, though, this Christmas season is different. The joy that was there last year isn’t present. Instead, in its place, is a grief or brokenness that seems irreconcilable with the overwhelming joy of the Christmas season.

Photo: CreationSwap

Maybe it’s a broken relationship, and you are walking into this Christmas without that friend or spouse by your side for the first time in years. Or maybe it’s the loss of a loved one — and to experience Christmas without her seems impossible, if not wrong. Whatever it is that might have broken your heart this year, you might feel it more keenly this Christmas. Brokenness, however, has a way of letting God come nearer.

One of my favorite writers as of late, Shauna Niequist, writes about these seasons as “Thin Places.” It’s an ancient Celtic idea — of a place where the divide between divine and natural is thin, and God comes down to touch the earth, and His presence is nearly tangible. Brokenness can certainly bring us to that thin place — where God can, if we let him, come down to us and touch us in our broken state. When things seem to be falling apart all around us and inside us, God draws near with His presence. He might not fix things right away, but He is there, with us.

If we come to this time of year grieving or feeling heartbroken, the Christmas joy and spirit can be hard to muster up. But Advent can help us in this place. Advent gives us another option beyond faking it til you make it. Advent lets us really grieve, yet really hope. 

“Give up for a while your false and failing attempts at merriment, and thank God for thin places, and for Advent, for a season that understands longing and loneliness and long nights. Let yourself fall open to Advent, to anticipation, to the belief that what is empty will be filled, what is broken will be repaired, and what is lost can always be found, no matter how many times it’s been lost.” – Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet

My prayer for you in this Advent season is that you would call on Emmanuel, “God With Us.” I pray that you would open yourself to Him this Christmas, allow him to come down to you and be present with you in whatever season you find yourself.

If you want to read more about “Thin Places,” check out Shauna’s book Bittersweet. It was one of my favorite reads this year.

Coming into Our Midst – Bonhoeffer

I stumbled across this essay by Bonhoeffer the other day. It really pricked my heart. Part of the paradox of Christianity, and of Advent, is that Christ both came in humility as an infant, but also as a King. Further, there is a second Advent we await — when He will come again to judge and reign. We have a God, who, while mighty in power, still chose to draw near to us. This is all at once comforting and frightening. 

“We have become so accustomed to the idea of divine love and of God’s coming at Christmas that we no longer feel the shiver of fear that God’s coming should arouse in us. We are indifferent to the message, taking only the pleasant and agreeable out of it and forgetting the serious aspect, that the God of the world draws near to the people of our little earth and lays claim to us. The coming of God is truly not only glad tidings, but first of all frightening news for everyone who has a conscience.

Only when we have felt the terror of the matter, can we recognize the incomparable kindness. God comes into the very midst of evil and of death, and judges the evil in us and in the world. And by judging us, God cleanses and sanctifies us, comes to us with grace and love. God makes us happy as only children can be happy.

God wants to always be with us, wherever we may be – in our sin, in our suffering and death. We are no longer alone; God is with us. We are no longer homeless; a bit of the eternal home itself has moved unto us. Therefore we adults can rejoice deeply within our hearts under the Christmas tree, perhaps much more than the children are able. We know that God’s goodness will once again draw near…”

 

- Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Jesus Coming Into Our Midst (from Watch for the Light)

You can read the rest here. (It’s good!)

Armor of Light

Winter is upon us, and with it come shorter days. It’s dark when we wake up and the sun is gone by 5:30. For many, this dark time can be very depressing. (Numbers of people suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder all over the U.S.). Thankfully, God has made us a promise: that the Light is in this dark world, and the darkness will not win.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. – John 1:5 (ESV)

This is the Collect (a collective prayer) from the Book of Common Prayer for the first Sunday of Advent:

ALMIGHTY God, give us grace that we may cast away the works of darkness, and put upon us the armor of light, now in the time of this mortal life, in which thy Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility; that in the last day, when he shall come again in his glorious majesty to judge both the quick and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal, through him who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, now and ever. Amen. 

“Besides this you know the time, that the hour has come for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed. The night is far gone; the day is at hand. So then let us cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light…put on the Lord Jesus Christ”

Romans 13:11-12;14 (ESV)

Praying for the Light of Christ to shine in you and on you during these dark winter months. Cast off the darkness and heaviness, and put on the armor of light!