We talk about listening a lot here at Abide in the Spirit because it is a core value that ties together so much of our mission, ministry, and purpose. 

Just this past week I was reminded how important whole and holy listening is - because of its seeming lack in conversations I was having. From a text - where a question was left unanswered, to a conversation where I asked if I could speak only to have someone talk louder and faster over me, to a conversation where keywords were ignored and thus we got nowhere - the lack of space for authentic listening made me value places and spaces where it does happen even more. 

​I don't think I'm alone in craving spaces of listening. Nor do I think that the snippets I shared from my week are unique to me. Where are the spaces where you find that listening - wholly and fully - are lacking? And where do such spaces appear in your life where holy listening can thrive?

One of the reasons that Abide has the vision to offer holy listening and sacred space is that it accompanies all of life. 

What do I mean by that?

When I come to spiritual direction (group or individual) or supervision, I don't just come bringing one part of myself or another. I don't come just solely lift up trials or joys. Instead, in that space I find that I don't need to compartmentalize, but can bring whatever the Spirit has prompted me to bring. 

And if I'm honest, the Spirit continues to prompt me to bring even throughout the sessions themselves.

With my own spiritual direction, I may bring something that the Spirit has laid on my heart, but 50 minutes and ten things later, I realize that the Spirit was leading me down a path that I may not have been as attentive to on my own.

​So where are the spaces where you can bring your whole self and see what God unfolds?

Winter is not my favorite season. While I appreciate living in a place where all four seasons are present and distinct - I'm not a fan of winter. The chill in the air. The wet ground. And the unpredictable weather. 

Yet, even though I don't care for winter, I still know that it has a purpose. It helps the ground become prepared for spring and harvest. It calls for life to slow down and find rest - a hibernation of sorts.

​The reality is that we all have seasons of life that we would rather not go through. Times that we prefer to avoid if at all possible. But what if there was a purpose waiting to peek through - just under our discontent? What might this season of life have waiting for you?

Something I have done in my church the last few years is hand out star words. For those not familiar - star words are a word or a phrase to guide you in the year to come. The only rule I have with this practice is you trust your word. In other words no tradsies, no take backs - you get what you get.

I am in a new congregation, introducing this practice for the first time a few weeks ago and when I got my word, I inwardly moaned. This was not the word I wanted at all to guide me in 2023. But I remembered my own refrain - no tradsies, no take backs, you get what you get.

I've been living with the word for a few weeks now and its growing on me. I'm seeing how it may be a beautiful guide for this season of my life, even if I initially wanted to reject it. 

Such is life. Sometimes things grow on us - like words. Sometimes we are lead down paths we never saw coming. But there is a spirit of curiosity that can open our hearts and minds to what lies ahead in the unknown. 
What is guiding you in this season of your life?

I am not a fan of New Year's resolutions. 

Let me explain - I used to work as a fitness instructor for a gym. In January, we would see an uptick in folks coming to classes - only to have it quickly fall away as February came. Why? Because for a lot of people New Year's resolutions do not survive much past the first few weeks of the year.

But, while I do not like New Year's resolutions - I do like lists. And goals. And new adventures. 

When I stop thinking about resolutions as something that has to be done and embrace my list-centric nature, all of a sudden there is a freedom that comes. Space and grace and ultimately change.
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Maybe you aren't list-centric, but how can you step into who you are this new year that is gentle and embraces who you are - in a way that still makes space for change, even in this second month of the new year?

I love to plan. Give me a blank calendar and I can fill it up. Give me a to-do list or a project and I can work through it step-by-step. But as much as I enjoy planning, perhaps some of my favorite moments are ones where I can sit back and reflect, pray, and listen. Ones where I'm not rushing to get to the next thing or worried about planning for what comes next.. Time to simply be. 

​What is it like for you to be in this present moment? What gift does it hold?

Day by day, hour by hour - light is coming in our lives. 

After observing the longest night of the year in December, we are waiting for light to come in its fullness. 

There seems to be something about using light as a tangible symbol of hope. 
I wonder who are the people in your life you hold out the light for you? Who calls you to hope when hope is hard? And how are you sharing your light and hope with other people in a way that stands in the gap? 
In other words, what does light mean to you, dear friends, and how are you sharing it with the world?

I have to admit that I am not someone who is very good at waiting. I feel like I am far too impatient, which often translates to not being very good at watching either.

Yet, I am still called to watch and wait, even if I am not always perfectly present in doing so. 

It's one of the reasons I sought spiritual direction in my life over a decade ago - to better watch and wait. But also, not to undertake these postures alone. Instead, I wanted to be in community with other people who are also watching and waiting. 

​What are you watching and waiting for at this time?

I struggle with the idea of uniqueness. 

​On one hand - I truly believe that we are each unique - in our gifting, experience, and those things that make us who we are. But, on the other hand, sometimes we can fall into the trap of thinking that we are so unique that no one will understand us. We use it as a way to keep other people out. 

I wonder if sometimes we use our uniqueness as a shield because we haven't really been appreciated for who we are. Or maybe we haven't been listened to fully. 

Instead, I would like to step into the fullness of a statement that I heard this past week - that we are unique, but not individualistic. 

We are not alone on this journey we call life. 

​How are you unique, but not individualistic? 

Where I live we experience all four seasons - fall, winter, spring, and summer - in their full richness and tapestry. If you ask folks, they will often say that is one of their favorite parts of living here - experiencing each and every season. 

Unfortunately, that isn't true. 

Yes, it's true that we have the seasons, but no one loves every season equally nor always enjoys experiencing them. 

For me, that is so true as the temperatures drop and snow starts to fall. Not my favorite season. Yet, I know that we need this season. 

​Isn't that true of our lives as well? We aren't always thrilled at the season we find ourselves in - yet, we are here. How would you describe the season you find yourself in currently? And what is the potential gift of it in particular?