Good morning, my friends, and every good blessing to you…
Hooray! I am so grateful and glad to be back here in this space with you after a summer pause from Monday Manna. It feels right to be marking the end of summer on this last day of August (though I know for some of you, school started weeks ago, and for you good Minnesotans, school isn’t for another week). This is the transition time when we hold all the feelings, reflecting on what the summer was while sensing the Spirit steer us toward a fresh season, life-giving rhythms, something new…
How was summer for you, my friends? If you were to give your summer a chapter title, what would it be?
In my parting post back in June, I wrote about my desire for a deepened prayer life this summer. I was coming off a short retreat to Holy Wisdom Monastery in which I’d received the gifts of silence, solitude, and time for contemplative prayer, and was excited to nurture what I’d experienced there. I began reading Ruth Haley Barton’s An Invitation to Solitude and Silence: Experiencing God’s Transforming Presence, a truly beautiful book about finding God through the spiritual practice of time alone, and particularly, time alone with God.
And then summer began, and I was rarely alone.
I was quite frustrated (to put it politely!) I couldn’t seem to find much silence. Why I was surprised by this knowing I was entering into summer with three young kids and very little camp or outside structure is another topic. The energy in our home each day, especially with my two younger boys, was tornado-like, with a noise level comparable to the airport.
It was on our family trip to Michigan early in the summer that I realized I needed to make a significant shift in attitude and outlook. It had been a harried departure, with crankiness from the get-go. We were only a couple hours into our drive (most of which was simply through Chicago due to Friday afternoon traffic) and had stopped for gas. I could tell my kids had had it, and my husband and I relented to their pleas for treats and lemonade.
We hadn’t even closed the doors of the van to resume the drive when a fight broke out between two of the kids, leading to a propelled leg kicking the other kid’s lemonade with full force, puncturing a hole in the bottom, and creating a lemonade waterfall all over the seats.
I thought I might myself become a puddle on the floor with that lemonade. Such moments are not rare occurrences, at least in our family.
But in reflecting on it (much) later, thinking again about quiet and prayer and my desire for closer connection with God, I started to wonder…
How is God present to and with me in all this messiness, rather than only a refuge from it?
If God is in this, and there’s Spirit everywhere, what is the Spirit stirring up in this?
How can I meaningfully connect with God in the chaos?
What if a simple pause and a big, deep breath are ways to inhabit silence and solitude when my surroundings are churning?
I keep various journals at the same time, all for different purposes. But I started carrying a very small, black notebook which became my place for noting ways I sensed God amid the chaotic days — the pages are intentionally little so there’s no room or pressure to write much. I tucked it in my bag for our outings and trips and days of adventure, but also kept it in the kitchen for moments when a thought came to me cleaning up the dishes.
Many days, my simple prayer and goal were to remain more emotionally regulated than my kids. But I will say that keeping the journal not only helped me think about where God was in the chaotic moments, but to name and celebrate the beauty too. As we know, the most exhausting and stretching moments stitch right alongside the sublime ones. And they don’t have to be extraordinary things to be deeply profound. The sound of your child’s laugh while they’re on the swing. An encouraging text message. A moment around the dinner table when everyone shares something—anything—from their day.
As my husband regularly says, we live a Dickens’ novel every day.
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…”
But if I were going to give my summer a title, it would be “finding God in the chaos.” Or maybe even “beauty in the chaos.” Not to sugarcoat what is hard or what whittles our nervous systems down to nub, but to pause and pay attention to how God is right there.
This summer reminded me how God not only is present and comfortable with chaos, but that is the place God creates beauty. It’s how the whole Great Story begins, right? In Genesis, the earth is void, dark, and full of “chaos” some translations say, and out of that, God creates our exquisite world (Genesis 1:1).
It’s what Jesus did daily in his ministry. He was always walking into chaotic places, bringing a presence of stillness and centeredness within him, breathing that over everyone else…Each interruption an opportunity.
We know we cannot sustain or endure chaos forever. There have to be moments of reprieve. Jesus had regular retreat, and in some cases, periods when he had to hide. You may be feeling ragged from some really hard things this summer. There’s been loss, deep grief, monumental transition….Or maybe it’s a pace at work that feels unrelenting, or some challenges with a child that feel unsustainable.
For all of us who find ourselves living in noise or interruption or chaos more than we would choose, the invitation is this — to welcome the surrounding swirl as a chance to embrace God’s creative power and loving presence.
No matter what is happening, you can breathe. You can pause. You can pay attention to what God might create in that moment. And all of those are prayer.
Watch this week for what God will create.
A Prayer
Here is a prayer for summer’s ending from my book, Ash and Starlight: Prayers for the Chaos and Grace of Daily Life, Second Edition. God has traveled with us through summer, and will hold us as we enter into autumn.
For Summer’s ending
Near One,
Thank you for all the ways you’ve
companioned me this summer.
You’ve traveled with me as I
made road trips to visit scattered, special family,
waited at airport gates thick with frustrating delays,
buckled kids in the car for an adventure at the zoo,
driven across town to eat
crisp cold salads with a dear friend,
folded clothes and packed the suitcase another time.
You’ve traveled with me, Jesus,
as I’ve sat in medical waiting rooms,
as I’ve kissed loved ones goodbye while holding back tears,
as I’ve lingered by the window with a cup of coffee,
overcome with too many thoughts to name…
You’ve made your presence known
through tracked-in sand on the kitchen floor
and the smell of fresh strawberries dumped on the counter.
I’ve heard your voice in the
joyful shrieks of children in sprinklers
and the creak of the porch swing as dusk settled.
You’ve held me through weeks that were stressful
and weeks that evaporated in elation…
weeks when I was complacent and selfish
and weeks I was sacrificial and servant-hearted…
weeks when I was honest and integrated
and weeks I didn’t even recognize
the person in the mirror….
You never failed to remind me
how you loved me and still
had good for me to do.
Sometimes I caught your message…
How I thank you,
traveling and strengthening One,
for going with me through these summer months…
for offering reassurance as I enter
the fall and all its change.
I hold out my gratitude for what was
and my quiet hopes for what’s to come.
Amen.
Genesis 46:4 * Deuteronomy 31:8 * Psalm 139:7–10 *
“Where can I go from your spirit?
Or where can I flee from your presence?…
If I take the wings of the morning
and settle at the farthest limits of the sea,
even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me fast.”
—Psalm 139:7, 9–10
Something that nourished me recently…
*Two of the biggest gifts this summer were time with family and lots of time at the water. We went to Michigan, Wisconsin, and Duluth, all of which provided lots of chaos and lots of beauty.
*Start of school! The cookie tradition continues.
*I’ve appreciated participating in Suleika Jaouad’s art community this month in which there’s been a prompt for creating each week. One week, the prompt was to draw, paint, or illustrate a term of endearment that has stayed with you, thinking about what it meant, what it carried, and how it shaped you. While I couldn’t really think of names for myself, I thought of the nicknames for my own children — Miss E/Missy, Simon my Diamond, and Goose (short for Silly Goose). All of which comprise a beautiful “garden.” I encourage you to create a piece yourself, and then write about it. Who called you that? What did it mean? How did it shape you?
Ash and Starlight, plus other good things…
*IMAGINATION LIBRARY ~ Dolly Parton found God in chaos, and partnered with the Spirit in creating beauty from it. One such way was the creation of her Imagination Library. If you feel nudged, donate to remember Dolly and further the beauty here…
*WONDERFUL BOOKS ~ Speaking of libraries and books, here are two books I especially want to draw your attention to — one for children and one for faith leaders. My friend, Traci Smith created a book for those in ministry to create truly intergenerational vibrancy in churches — Better Together. And another friend, Jennifer Grant, has yet another book to add to her beautiful “Consider” series launching tomorrow! Check out “Consider the Night Sky.” The pictures are so lovely too (done by the same illustrator who’s done Joanna Gaines’ children’s books!).
* MY ETSY SHOP ~ I’ve been working on some things for fall and am excited to share those in the coming weeks. Check out my Etsy shop for clothes, prints, pillows, and more. You can view the shop here . I send a portion of sales in my Etsy shop to Feed My Starving Children.
*SECOND EDITION OF ASH AND STARLIGHT ~ Find the updated edition of my book here at Chalice or at the Bookshop link.
*MONDAY MANNA ARCHIVES ~ Monday Manna each week is free! Supporting supporters of Monday Manna can view previous Monday Manna reflections here, or for the really old stuff, go to my website.
*WHAT DOES MANNA MEAN? ~ Check out an earlier post to learn how this little bit of “daily bread” got its name…
I’ll leave you with these words from our favorite, the beloved Irish poet, John O’Donohue.
"Let there be an opening into the quiet that lies beneath the chaos, where you find the peace you did not think possible and see what shimmers within the storm."
Love and Light,
Arianne
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Some truly beautiful questions you asked yourself after the lemonade.
Welcome back, dear friend! It's good to "see" you again. Your words spoke to my heart, as they often do, that God exists in our chaos and brings order to our lives. Finding God in the Chaos, it is a perfect title for a book! Blessings and love to you and yours.