Showing posts with label control. Show all posts
Showing posts with label control. Show all posts

Thursday, January 2, 2020

"it's all right..."


"you can close
your eyes,
it's alright..."



There are so many version of this JT classic on YouTube. This morning I got lost while watching covers of it, by artists like Sting, Linda Ronstadt, and others -- but it's James Taylor and Carly Simon's version of "You Can Close Your Eyes," that I always come back to. It brings me such peace.

I have been thinking a lot about how naturally we trust God -- without even realizing it. We lie down at the end of a long day, close our eyes, and surrender the mechanism of the human mind's whirring, to the peace of conscious knowing. We watch our children and grandchildren drift off to sleep, without a concern that they will not wake up. We release ourselves from worry, and rest our hopes, concerns, uncertainty on the presence of Something unseen.

There is grace in this level of trust. It is not something we earn. It is not something we have to work at. It comes so naturally to us. We know it from birth. As a mother, I would lay my tiny infant daughters down for a nap, and the go take a short nap myself. There was no "what if," in the complete surrender I felt, to the rest that I knew would come. I trusted.

This week's Bible study is all about Who and What we trust. It is all about God, and His love for each of us. It is about the grace that doesn't demand some kind of intellectual understanding about the "why" of our trusting.  It is all about the inherent trust that comes from being a child, in the arms of his/her divine Parent.

I remember some years ago feeling like I was in an uncomfortable position -- physically and socially. My body hurt, and my heart hurt even more. Everything felt twisted and upside down. I prayed to feel right-side-up and in control.

That was when I came upon a photograph of a father holding his infant. The baby was being held in what is sometimes referred to as a "football hold."  The baby's head was in the palm of the dad's hand, with her arms and legs draped on each side of his arm. His other hand was supporting both his own arm, and the infant. The child was upside down, and her eyes were closed and her face couldn't have been more peaceful.

I looked at that photo, and for a split second, I could see the baby without the dad in the photo. "Wow, what an awkward position," I thought. It looked as if the baby was hanging upside down in mid air, with no visible means of support. I immediately "got it."

My Father's love for me was just as attentive, tender, and firmly supportive as that infant's. And He loved, not only me, but our children, grandchildren, global neighbors, strangers, and friends -- with the same kind of tender care. I could close my eyes and rest in the constancy of that love. My life might seem awkward and I might feel as though I am hanging in mid-air -- arms and legs dangling -- but I am not. None of us are. And, at the deepest level, we know it.

We can close our eyes -- and its alright.

Whether you are feeling under-supported, or you just aren't seeing how it will all work out, remember that in the deepest part of yourself, you do trust that there is Something or Someone that will hold you while you rest. At the deepest level, you know that you can:

“close your eyes,
it's alright..."
 


Rest your heart here.

offered with Love,


Kate


Thursday, March 3, 2011

"You are so beautiful..."

"You are so beautiful to me....
can't you see..."

No, I couldn't see.  I couldn't see that I was beautiful for a very long time.  There are days when that view still eludes me. I am grateful for the spiritual tools that have helped me break a cycle of fear that had me in its grips for years.  

But, I am getting ahead of myself.

This is the start of my story...I hope it is helpful to you, or to someone you know, and love.   It is my hope that it will assure those who struggle with eating disorders, as I have,  that you are not alone.

My friend Heather said that she might have become bulimic, if she hadn't been so bad at throwing up.  I was not.  While others perfected a sense of balance, speed, accuracy, or aim, I perfected the ability to "toss my cookies" quickly, quietly, and without self-questioning. It started almost four decades ago when, as a dancer, I thought that the mirror told me everything I needed, or wanted, to know about my worth, beauty, and value.

I could rationalize my behavior a thousand ways to Sunday, but it never left me feeling anything but secretive, small, and out of control.  Funny, because "control" seemed to be what it was all about.

"What difference did it make if I threw up my meal,
or went to the the dance studio, or the gym, and eliminated that same meal by exercising obsessively?" I reasoned.  And this was just one of my favorite statements of self-justification.  But it never got me very far.  Comparing my own obsessive behavior, to someone else's, didn't make it right...it just made me feel so "not alone" in my terror.

"Terror," you may laugh,  "What did terror have to do with bulimia?" (defined as: any behavior that leads to self-elimination of food...obsessive exercise, vomiting, laxative or diuretics abuse)  "Everything," I would cry.

Terror that, if anyone every discovered how broken I was, I would be rejected, abandoned, derided, or dismissed.  

Terror that if I wasn't "perfect"...perfectly calm, thin, smart, pure, confident...I wouldn't be worthy of human connection.  And human connection...love, friendship, conversations, shared dreams, interests, ideas...was all that I cared about.   And I have come to believe that human connection...relationships...is what we all care about most. 

Beautiful houses, luxury cars, jewelry, jobs...are all just the lures we think will clothe our lives in garments of worthiness.  If I have the most beautiful, cozy house my children will want to come home for the holidays, my neighbors will want to know me, my friends will think I am creative, capable, desirable as a companion and friend. 

If I drive the right car, have the right job title, live at the right address...perhaps someone will admire me and want to know me.  

But, admiration for the sake of attraction...or admiration...is too lonely a goal to nerve our endeavors.   It will never be enough...in, and of, itself...to motivate the human heart.  Only real love, and the desire for human connection...through service, compassion, understanding...could move us to work as hard as we do, to get the attention of others.

Bulimia, for me, was the drug that softened the sharp edges of fear.  The fear of failure, and a fall from grace.  Bulimia soothed the savagery of self-doubt, and anethesized the anticipated pain of wondering whether my call would be answered, or for some girls today, whether their Facebook friend request would be accepted,, or an invitation to meet for coffee will be ignored.

A bowl of ice cream and a plate of cookies were mine. I could control them, and no one could take them away from me.  Getting rid of them...by throwing up, dancing till I dropped, or doing 300 sit-ups...was my choice.  I was in control of cookies and ice cream.  Life was....hmmm...good???  Not really.

There were so many times when I thought I'd really been "healed" of this dirty little secret called bulima. 

When vomiting gave way to obsessive daily exercising, I felt like I'd been "healed."  Refusing to eat anything that would make me feel guilty, so that I wouldn't need to purge, seemed like a healing.  Banning myself from the bathroom for two hours after any meal was a healing...right?  Wrong.    The root issues...the terror of being rejected or abandoned...hadn't really gone away. It took looking at myself through a different lens altogether...the lens of God's love for me...just as I was.

I discovered that I could pray to see that I am "wanted."  God wants me.  He wants me to do His will...to love without reason, to give without return, to share without keeping score, to laugh with abandon, to serve without self-interest.  And knowing that I am wanted by Him, is helping....a lot. 

I still have moments when I feel afraid.  Moments when I want to take control.  There are times when I want to say, "No, I don't need anyone to love me or need me..."    "Well okay, so perhaps you don't need any
one," it purrs, "but you could sure use a big bowl of ice cream and a plate of cookies."  

But now,  instead of fighting these feelings of uncertainty, I actually let myself experience the feeling of  being in "relationship freefall."  I am willing to put an invitation "out there" and not know if it will be accepted.   I am free to let myself smile at someone who hasn't been particularly friendly in the past, not because I expect a particular response, but because it is who I am...it is consistent with my spiritual nature as a loving child of God. 

And you know, as scary as it sometimes feels, it's also pretty exciting.  Kind of like the thrill of sky-diving.  I just throw myself into the arms of God's love and trust...trusting that I will always have the friendships God is bringing into my life.  That these friendships are the ones that will always be a mutual blessing for both parties. 

If He is
not giving them to me, I don't want them.  And if He is, there is nothing I can do to screw them up.  I am not in control.  I have never been in control.  I will never be in control.  I don't want control...why would I?   God does a much better job of it than I ever could.

I am beautiful to Him...and through His eyes, I am beautiful to me.

This is my story...it is no longer my secret. 

shared with love,

Kate
Kate Robertson, CS

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

"Saddle up your horses..."

"This is the greatest journey
that the human heart will ever see
The love of God will take us
far beyond our wildest dreams...

Saddle up your horses
we've got a trail to blaze
Through the wild blue yonder
of God's amazing grace
Let's follow our leader
into the glorious unknown
This is a life like no other
this is The Great Adventure

Saddle up your horses,
come on get ready to ride..."

-     Steven Curtis Chapman
& Geoff Moore

Horses and camp..they go together like bread and butter, blueberries and pancakes, Emma and Clara.  Dapples and paints, bays and bucksins...I love them all. As a girl I loved to read about horses, draw them, paint them, brush, curry, feed, and ride them. I was horse obsessed. Driving up the camp road and seeing our herd in the pasture takes my breath away. Being able to pick out Riata, Dusk, Sugar (Lach's and Linda's), Ayla, Remington, and the rest...is like walking into a family reunion in full swing.

This morning, I was listening to Chapman and Moore's "
The Great Adventure," just as a patrol of campers and their horses came up the hill during a trail ride.   I couldn't help but notice the trust these tiny riders (and the parents who'd sent them to camp knowing that they'd be participating in the Buckaroos program) had in their four-legged partners.  It is a well-placed trust, and it is soundly grounded in the spiritual fact that, as Mary Baker Eddy says in Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures:

"All is under the control of the one Mind, even God."

These riders and their horses all have the same God, the same Mind, governing their every movement with divinely choreographed spiritual certainty.  It is a sacred dance...one that thrives on both "lightness of touch," and a firm hand. And as much as I thrill at the sight of young riders excelling at barrels, poles, and the keyhole in the end-of-session rodeo, this dance of horse and rider is never more beautiful to me than in these first few days of camp. 

I love wandering down to the corral, and watching a line of grade-school age children mounted high atop their horses, soft hands lightly cradling (or tightly clutching) leather reins, feet barely reaching stirrups, and smiles as wide as a quarter moon lighting up their faces as they move slowly along the dusty road towards the arena.  You cannot watch an eight year old, astride a 800-pound buckskin, and not be in awe of the remarkable trust on the part of both the rider who is sitting brave and tall, and the horse whose mouth holds a metal bit under the control of a youngster.


Our daughters have been riding since they were preschoolers, and watching them tear into the rodeo arena, pass through the electronic eye of the timer, round the barrels, and race back through the gate, is like watching a pod of dolphins cutting through the sea,  leaves turning towards the sunlight, or a hummingbird hovering in midair above the long-throated chalice of a trumpet flower. It is as natural, beautiful, and breath-taking as an Arkansas Valley sunset after a storm.


Tonight, as I pondered the spiritual message in Chapman's "
The Great Adventure," I've been thinking about my own eager readiness to ride into the "glorious unknown" of spiritual trust.  I have been assessing my own willingness to enter the arena of healing and salvation with a childlike trust that anticipates only the promised joy.  I have been imagining myself bouncing high astride my great desire to greet each request for treatment, each appointment, each visit to my office, each moment's call to be present in my life...with grace.   I long to be able to put self aside...and live in service to God...with a smile as big as a quarter moon, a heart that is chomping at the bit, and a willingness to trust Him -- a Love that is so much bigger than I am -- with all that I am or ever will be -- with my life, my hopes, my dreams, my desires, and my children.

I'm saddled up and ready for the ride of my life...

Loving camp!!  More soon...from the porch of Crowsnest,


Kate
Kate Robertson, CS
[photo credits: Ashley Bay 2009]

Thursday, February 21, 2008

"God is in Control..."

"This is no time for fear
This is the time for faith and determination..
Hold on to all that you hide in your heart
There is one thing that has always been true
It holds the world together
God is in control

God is in control
We believe that His children will not be forsaken
God is in control
We will choose to remember and never be shaken
There is no power above or beside Him,
we know
God is in control…"

Things were falling apart in my life.  But not in the obvious crashing and burning kind of way.  This was more like a sweater unraveling from a hundred different places.  If I tried to catch a thread on the sleeve…the buttons fell off.  All the while I wore the mask of  "control".  Everyone in my life assumed that I had it under control, that I was "on top of it" or "all over it"…I didn't and I wasn't.  I was barely hanging on by a thread…just like the button on that sweater.

One day as I drove to my office I just wanted to keep on driving.  I didn't think I could keep it all together for one more hour.  I just needed a place where I could go have a good cry and not give my family anything to worry about. I was listening to a mix collection of inspirational songs that I had been given and
Twila Paris' "God is in Control" roused me from the litany of "You have got to get yourself under control"…a hypnotic loop that was cycling through my head like a mantra...and woke me from the nightmare of thinking that it was all about me and my thinking, me and my control over things.

I picked up the chorus in moments and before I knew it I had joined Twila from the front seat of the Jeep, singing at the top of my lungs like a big-haired backup singer.  "God is in control, we will choose to remember and never be shaken…"   It felt good to lift my voice, heart, and hands in praise honoring Him.  This song became my theme song.  I didn't need to get things under control.  I just needed to know that God was omnipotent and that He was the only Cause and Creator…not only of my experience or my family's situation…but of everyone's.  Every person who shared with me their personal sadness, private fears, concerns about finances, worries about health, apprehension about life changes…were really only asking for me to "remember and never be shaken"…for them, with them, beside them.   My journey through the valley of the shadow of death…the death of my peace, the death of my view of myself as being "in control", the death of an image that was, by it's very nature, not true…gave me a road map for helping others.  It wasn't my job to "fix" my life or anyone else's…it was my privilege to bear witness to God's control in all things…for all of us.

For me this is what Jesus was referring to when he said,

"I can of mine own self do nothing
But what I seeth the Father do…"

And what Mary Baker Eddy encourages us to do when she writes in Science and Health:

"All that is made is the work of God, and all is good. We leave this brief glorious history of spiritual creation…in the hands of God, not of man, in the keeping of Spirit, not of matter, -- joyfully acknowledging now and forever God's supremacy, omnipotence, and omnipresence."

It was shared with me recently that a very experienced spiritual healer was once asked about how she viewed her long career.  She replied that in the early years she was certain that she was working for God.  Then after a number of years it became clear to her that she was, in actuality, working with God.  But now, she said, "I know that I am really just watching God work."

When we really know that God is omnipotent, omnipresent, and supreme – is in control -- what is there left to do but "watch God work"…or as Jesus said, "what I seeth the Father do"…and be grateful.

"...He has never let you down
Why start to worry now?
He is still the Lord of all we see
And He is still the loving Father
Watching over you and me

watching over you..watching over me..
every little sparrow..every little thing..."

Gratefully,
Kate

Friday, March 30, 2007

"God is a River...let go"

“In the ever-shifting water of the river of this life
I was swimming, seeking comfort; I was wrestling waves to find
A boulder I could cling to, a stone to hold me fast
Where I might let the fretful water of this river 'round me pass..."
- Peter Mayer

I’ve always loved stones and water...two elements that are at the core of my being.  When I hear those two words I feel both grounded and fetterless.  And sometimes I call the space in my heart a studio because it best describes my home as an artist. 

For me, an artist is someone who uses a principle. Like the principle of perspective in drawing. Or the law of gravity in sculpture. These principles serve as a matrix for what Robert Peel writes of as the ultimate goal for working Mary Baker Eddy’s household, “a breathtaking genius for improvisation”.

I have always loved order, neatness, form, beauty, and creativity.  The marriage of stones and rivers have always spoken to me of this concresence. 

One day while sitting on a sandy beach on Cape Cod, I considered what it might look like if my “office," were an artist's studio.  And the Christian Science healing practice was the perfect marriage of art and science.  I’ve never felt the balance of those two elements more than in this last year and a half.  This blog has been a chronicle of that journey towards greater trust, balance, honesty and grace.

This morning, my husband sent me this video clip from Peter Mayer’s Front Porch concert in Boulder, with this note:

“Good morning, Honey.....

Please check this out.  I think he wrote this with you in mind somehow.”

The subject line of his email said, “An anthem for our home”. This touched me deeply.  And then I watched the video clip of Peter's performance of
God is A River and it made me weep with abandon.  Peter perfectly and completely captures what I hope each of my posts are trying to say of what I am learning.  This song is now the anthem, not just for our home, but for this blog, my life, and, most profoundly, what I think it is that I am learning about God.   I will let Peter’s words speak for me today.

“In the ever-shifting water of the river of this life
I was swimming, seeking comfort; I was wrestling waves to find
A boulder I could cling to, a stone to hold me fast
Where I might let the fretful water of this river 'round me pass

And so I found an anchor, a blessed resting place
A trusty rock I called my savior, for there I would be safe
From the river and its dangers, and I proclaimed my rock divine
And I prayed to it "protect me" and the rock replied

God is a river, not just a stone
God is a wild, raging rapids
And a slow, meandering flow
God is a deep and narrow passage
And a peaceful, sandy shoal
God is the river, swimmer
So let go

Still I clung to my rock tightly with conviction in my arms
Never looking at the stream to keep my mind from thoughts of harm
But the river kept on coming, kept on tugging at my legs
Till at last my fingers faltered, and I was swept away

So I'm going with the flow now, these relentless twists and bends
Acclimating to the motion, and a sense of being led
And this river's like my body now, it carries me along
Through the ever-changing scenes and by the rocks that sing this song.

God is a river, not just a stone
God is a wild, raging rapids
And a slow, meandering flow
God is a deep and narrow passage
And a peaceful, sandy shoal
God is the river, swimmer
So let go."

I think I will let this song be my home.  I will dwell in its space of surrender and trust. I  find in its message a security that is without the conventional walls and mortar, bricks or beams of always knowing what’s next, or how it’s supposed to look.  I’m going to try to let go of any false sense of safety I’ve been clinging to and trust the River.

“Home” for me, is a conscious power, a movement that is vital and active, a verb…this sense of “home” as a verb, has often given birth to a house or a marriage, a family, purposeful work, or a posting on a blog.

Thank you honey for honoring me by even thinking, for a moment, that this song was written with me in mind.

Thank you Peter…for writing me a home…and an anthem for my life.

With Love,

K

[for those of you who were looking for my followup to Tuesday's posting on my conversation about feelings with my friends from the college....I posted it last night and it is just below this unexpected post for Friday]