Dance of obedience

Last week, I was privileged to, again, be the focus of a Quaker clearness committee, the small-group process of deep listening to another. Listening, reflecting back what the speaker said, asking questions for clarity and assisting that person in discovering the guidance of their Inner Teacher.

This is the fifth clearness committee I've been the subject of; I've served on several others. Each one has been different. Some, such as those for membership or marriage, are more clear cut with questions outlined. Mine on concerns of ministry generally seek answers to where God is leading me and currently working in my life. Of course, I am constantly discerning that for myself and checking in with others who nurture me, but, sometimes, I suspect, those sources tell me what I want to hear, not necessarily what I ought to hear.

The same person who has convened my last three sessions has scrupulously ensured that each one be as pure as possible. Because of his careful guidance, these sessions have been gifts. A previous committee offered advice that weighed me down. Another was silent and left me wondering and in doubt.

The two questions with which I am working from my most recent session include naming the props I feel Spirit is asking me to surrender and removing my block to aligning my spiritual work with income and career.

Clearly, God told me I did not need props such a a book, a turtlebox or studio. Initially, I thought that meant to surrender those things. Then I surmised it could signify a willingness to surrender them. With patient listening and careful questions, I am understanding what those objects Spirit named represent: worldly recognition, identity and security. My life is about faithfulness in using my gifts as God desires. [Interestingly, I just led a retreat session in naming gifts]. I now see it's about laying down illusion and forming a different dream, one I co-create with Spirit, than the world pushes and let the rest fall into place WITHOUT worry, fear or doubt.

F(ear) = listening to the wrong source

Doodling I did prepping for a retreat on naming gifts

Out of that clearness session also came the suggestion to read a book by Quaker Jan Wood called "Christians at Work." Typically, I veer from anything with the word Christian in the title, assuming there's some sort of judgment. But I know Jan Wood; she's traveled to our meetinghouse to facilitate two retreats and her Good News Associates presented me with a ministry grant last summer. She sees things in fresh ways, inspired by Jesus and scripture.

In fact, years ago, when she was summoned for a retreat on stewardship, she rocked our world, looking directly at us at pointing out that we should and could be funding the ministry of 6 people. She said stewardship, according to Jesus' view, is not about comfort and buildings, but about supporting people and ministry. A few years later, when our meeting so very easily agreed to spend $90,000 on new "green" windows, Jan's words haunted me. I spoke up and said that if we could easily spend money on comfort and energy efficiency, couldn't we also support ministry. The meeting listened and, eventually, set up a ministry fund. That was years ago and I had no idea I would ever apply for or be the recipient of any of that funding, I just knew what Jan Wood had said. God works in wonderful and mysterious ways.

Jan's book has been just the tonic I needed, describing how work, originally as God intended, was a natural, shared adventure, not slaving away at a boring desk job just to pay the bills. She speaks of the world's system and God's:

"When we're knitted back into God's heart through Jesus, we leave the systems of this world based on distrust of God and reliance on human senses and wisdom."

She speaks of obedience as relaxing, a liberating dance and how tasks, turned to service, become profound worship.

This is where I want to live.


• How do I seek my Inner Teacher?
• Where do I seek outside help in that listening and discerning?
• What difference can that deep listening by another make?
• What is or has God asked me to surrender?
• What does obedience look like for me?


I'm not sure I
could have been
on the hotseat,
she remarked

meaning the focus
of a clearness
committee

for me, it
wasn't that,
but the chance
to get out of
my own head

and into my heart
where Jesus,
the Inner Teacher,
dwells

once there,
I'm certain
that I don't
ever want 
to leave

Listen to this post:

Spirit's unexpected opening

[Recording located at end of post]

Monday, as I was working in my studio, trying to write, a group thundered through the stairwell, collecting just outside my door, which was open. Not wanting to seem rude, I let it go and feigned busyness. It was hard to write with the clatter, then hard not to eavesdrop as the dozen or so, all white men and two women, one I recognized as a college student, chatted about the future of Milford Main School. My future, I understood.

They were talking about it as if it were a piece of property, which, of course, it is. The Milford School District has been attempting to figure out what to do with this white elephant for a long time. I am certain the November defeat of an operating levy brings it to the front burner.

Gutting it and leaving its few redeeming architectural details for a developer was one scenario. Public auction, another. Moving administrative offices here and selling Milford South was suggested. Several recommended marketing it to prospective buyers as senior housing since several local communities maintain waiting lists. I’m pretty certain city officials were in attendance, but I did not hear a peep as to any intention of taking it over. Rumor has it the district has unsuccessfully tried giving it away for $1.

Someone who sounded knowledgeable about renovation said this building was a piece of cake compared to work on similar structures in Over-the-Rhine. That was encouraging. Someone else offered a two-sided elevator could be installed for less than $150,000 and meet ADA restrictions.

I peeked out and noticed Merydith, a Miami senior re-developing Milford Main for her senior architecture project. Bet she wasn’t s crazy about what she was hearing, either.

They did introduce her and solicited her opinion. She responded that, obviously, what she was proposing would cost a lot. She was very diplomatic, but in her heart of hearts, I know she was disappointed.

When she finished, it seemed like my chance to chime in: now or never. I explained that I ran an arts program for local, at-risk kids through Quaker grants*, one from the Clermont County Mental Health and Recovery Board and had just applied for another from ArtsWave, the former Fine Arts Fund. There were sighs of recognition. I told them ArtsWave was excited about the possibility of a Milford arts center at Main, that they had been seeking another Clermont County presence. I revealed that I had done preliminary exploration and found a National Endowment for the Arts grant for “creative placemaking” collecting private, public, non-profit and community partners to shape the local social character around arts and cultural activities that animate, rejuvenate, improve the economy and gather diverse people.

What a dream!

Milford Main is just that bridge, connecting all of the above as well as Milford neighborhoods and retail districts. The key, it seems, is partnerships and someone or institution willing to take on ownership. Responsibility is what this committee seems to want the district to divest itself of.

I am grateful for the opportunity and felt listened to. As I inched myself out, I spied the superintendent and said hello. He has always been a good listener, from his first weeks on the job, when he held community-engagement meetings and introduced himself simple as “Bob,” offering his hand and treating me as if I mattered.

The district has been doing a lot of listening since the narrow loss of the levy. More public sessions and a survey, asking residents what cuts they would make. I believe it’ the smartest thing they could have done, given the circumstance, because it forced participants to feel their pain at what should go and what stay.

I also told this group that I thought they’d meet more public resistance to ridding themselves of Main than perceived. “People that voted against the levy aren’t gonna want to pay for Main,” one remarked

I beg to differ because it’s just those people, older, retired and on fixed incomes, who remember and love Main. They could truly benefit from some type of community cultural center.

And, I don’t relish moving Artsy Fartsy, let alone my studio, anywhere else, though it’s already been offered a home in a nearby church.

I feel Spirit gave me an opening and now tells me to wait – patiently, which isn’t so easy. I must trust, just as I did to get a studio in Milford Main in the first place!

• When have I been offered an unexpected opportunity at Spirit’s urging?

• Could it still hold a spiritual dimension even if in a worldly venue?

• How do I discern Spirit’s leadings?

• What happens when I can?

• When I don’t?

blissfully minding

my own business

when rudely

awakened

to something

I did not want

to know

it was

distressing

until my blood

boiled and my

heart pounded

much like when

I have ministry

in worship

and I knew

this was my

opening

a gift

from Spirit

amid the suits

of business

and still, I felt

my voice was heard

  

* Clarence and Lilly Pickett Endowment 

http://pickettendowment.quaker.org

Good News Associates grant

http://goodnewsassoc.org/

Listen to this post:

God's hand on the pot

Listen to post:

It may be too late for Angel and Alivia, Jordan and Jihad, but witnessing how they blossomed in the art room will never leave me. In fact, it drives me to (re)create that crucible for others: kids our society may have left behind. Kids that live in subsidized housing a stone's throw from me, in my neighborhood. Kids that touched my heart with their creativity, inquisitiveness and openness. Kids that just want to be seen, affirmed and receive a touch of childhood. For some, it may be all they have.

My intention is to capture that magic, helping another group tap their inner artist and awaken their self expression. Mostly, I want them to show their beauty to the world and themselves.

My tenure six years ago assisting in my daughters' elementary art room has profoundly affected me and, now, my life, as I begin an arts exploration for fourth, fifth and sixth graders in my re-purposed neighborhood school classroom. I remember getting that fortuitous call from my youngest's first-grade teacher: "How would you like to help out in the art room, we have FORTY first graders with SCISSORS and ONE teacher?" My heart immediately said yes. 

This art teacher has the gift of bringing out the best in all children. She bubbles with infectious, creative energy. In her art room, students are all equals and, as such, expected to do their best creatively. Shy kids opened. Kids with behavior issues channeled that energy into their art. Kids that have to play adult at home, got to be a kid for awhile. Kids that felt invisible elsewhere, were seen and encouraged. Kids that struggled with academics, found a home where they excelled and where process was valued over product. Labels disappeared along with anxiety and negative identity.

I don't know whether I'll be able to pull that off, but I am not alone in this work. Not by a long shot.

First off, there's God who has been calling me to this for a very long time. She patiently waited until the timing was right, growing her whispers to broadcasts I could not ignore.

My husband and daughters have been with me all of the way, encouraging me when I could not see the light. 

My Quaker community has been on board from the beginning. I have been the beneficiary of a number of clearness committees, when others listen for where God is working in on person's life, a congregation that has taken this project under its wings and a dear care committee. The Clarence and Lilly Pickett Endowment http://pickettendowment.quaker.org helped pay rent and the Good News Associates http://goodnewsassoc.org offered up a grant to cover supplies. Both are Quaker-based.

I have a dream team of an advisory/action committee whom God collected. Their gifts are over-flowing into this work. They include: the incredible art teacher who started all of this; another fabulous teacher who regularly visits this community on her own time; my recently retired sister-in-law with whom I have been aching to do something creative; my best friend and able facilitator (she makes things happen); a longtime Quaker pal who has been with this before I even knew what it was; an enthusiastic, wise-cracking neighbor with a big heart and non-profit/ministry background; and a newcomer with lots of energy and grounding.

And I can not forget the Quakers and Facebook friends, neighbors, family members and acquaintances who have donated crayons so each of 150 kids at this complex receive a pack when we host an arts sampler/registration for Artsy Fartsy Saturdays next month.

Three months ago, none of this was in place … except in the heart of God.

Wow, I can’t even take it all in.

• How have I seen seeds planted by God grow?

• How have they been watered and nurtured?

• What others has it drawn into my path?

• How has the heart of God opened to me?

• How has that transformed me?

listless and waiting

for what,

I am not certain

sure enough

a call came

and it seemed

simple enough

to say yes to

answering gave

me one of

the best years

of my life

then it was over

though I wasn’t done

yet

something

deeper

and bigger

was percolating

with God’s

hand on the pot

and in my heart