Monday Manna
Who you are...
Good morning, friends, and blessings to you in this fresh week…
I’ve had several conversations in the last couple weeks about kids and extracurricular activities. As a mom to three kids who are still relatively young (11, 8, and 5), I’ve already noticed the palpable pressure there is for kids to be busy, and in some cases, over-scheduled. There is collective talk about helping children “find their thing,” as though the entirety of childhood (and life itself!!) isn’t a continual journey of discovery and exploration and expansion.
While lots of children are passionate about and enjoy these activities, my own included, I do sometimes wonder whether joy is the original engine here. How much of this stems from parental anxiety and the need for kids to have some kind of definition of what makes them who they are? We as parents allow, and sometimes even drive, this because we are anxious about and wrestling with a sense of identity ourselves.
We could call it a crisis of identity. But deeper than that, it may be a crisis of faith.
Years ago, my mom traveled to the Holy Land right after my dad died. The gift she brought back for me was a small, framed piece of art she’d seen. It depicts the story of the hemorrhaging woman in Mark 5. My mom remembered how it’s long been one of my favorite stories in the Gospels, and remains a touchstone for me.
In this story, we meet a woman who has been bleeding for years. The text tells us she’d spent all her money on doctors who not only didn’t help her, but made her worse. And because she is a woman in ancient times where blood was considered “unclean,” we can imagine she was ostracized and often relegated far away from others.
But the story says she “heard about Jesus,” and when she did, decided she would try and reach him. “If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well,” she told herself.
Picture her, pressing through these crowds to try and touch Jesus, or as this painting depicts, crawling on the ground just so her fingers can graze the hem of his tunic.
And the miracle she longed for happened. The Gospel says, “immediately, her hemorrhage stopped, and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease.”
But here comes the even more amazing part. Jesus notices.
Immediately aware that power had gone forth from him, Jesus turned about in the crowd and said, ‘Who touched my clothes?’ And his disciples said to him, ‘You see the crowd pressing in on you; how can you say, ‘Who touched me?!’ Jesus looked around to see who had done it. But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling, fell down before him and told him the whole truth. (Mark 5:30-33).
And now the crux of the entire story — Jesus names her identity.
Jesus said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”
Daughter.
To me, that’s what this entire story is about, and why I come back to it again and again as I look at this art on my dresser each day.
While the hemorrhage ceasing was the healing the woman sought, I wonder if that naming of identity as God’s daughter — when she had been excluded and shamed by so many—may have been the most deeply healing act and gift Jesus could have given her.
Our identities are not in what we have done or do.
Not in how we are perceived by others.
Not in the sicknesses we carry.
Not in the roles we hold.
Not even in the things we love.
Who we are comes from Whose we are.
You are a child of God.
This is the true you. The true self that is “hidden within Christ in God” (Colossians 3:3).
Sometimes, it takes a lot of hard stuff — things failing or falling apart — for us to get here (p.s. We all need to read Richard Rohr’s Falling Upward).
But many times, what is falling apart was never real. It was never the foundation, at least.
This is what security and true freedom look like. To know there is no pressure to prove who we are, because God has already claimed you as a child completely worthy of unconditional love.
You might know that my favorite flower is the sunflower. As a child, my bedroom was a sea of them — sunflower bedspread, sunflower curtains, sunflower wallpaper. Each summer, I would plant sunflowers in an large, walnut-colored pot by our garage door.
It wasn’t until later on in life I learned the reason for the sunflowers’ name, and that they are heliotropic. They are always turning to face the sun. They know their life source.
And so the images I want to leave you with today are the daughter of God, risking everything to receive her identity and healing. And that of the sunflower, who grows by keeping its gaze on the source of light and warmth.
Keep your gaze toward the One who gives you identity today.
That is who you are, and nothing will ever change it. 🌻
A Prayer
This prayer from my book, Ash and Starlight: Prayers for the Chaos and Grace of Daily Life reminds us we are held, just as we are, in unconditional love by the God who won’t stop loving us.
When I need to know I’m held (just as I am!)
Gracious God,
Please meet me where I’m at today.
Enfold my heart—
whatever its state—
reminding me you are here,
reminding me I am loved.
I thank you, God,
I don’t need to be perfect.
Your grace is deeper,
your love stronger,
your forgiveness broader
than I understand.
Draw me out, Lord.
Shine your light on my secrets.
Send the soft rains of cleansing and
the strong rains of refinement
on my soul’s ground.
Please prepare me
for the days ahead,
whatever they bring.
You’ve given me the Spirit to face it all.
I hand over my worries and joys,
knowing you care even
more deeply than I do.
Please make me an instrument
of your love today, God.
Make me a reflection of my Creator
in what I say,
in how I act,
in the focus of my thoughts,
in the energy I emanate.
Amen.
Psalm 51:2 * 2 Corinthians 3:18 * Ephesians 3:18–19
“I pray that you…know the love of Christ that surpasses
knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of
God.” —Ephesians 3:18a, 19
Something that nourished me recently…
I’ve had some potent reminders in recent weeks about the power of words, and how, as Abraham Joshua Heschel reminds us, “words create worlds.” I’m grateful to a friend who told me again that what we speak has energy. I was reminded of this list of affirmations we keep in our kitchen — sometimes I’ll write them on notes to tuck in our kids’ lunch boxes, or say as we head out the door. I decided to create a small watercolor with some of the favorites. Feel free to download and print my image out below for your own back door (just click to save and download). Let’s speak life and love into one another’s hearts.
Prepping to grow our first raised bed garden this summer! Sunflowers will be in the mix!
Ash and Starlight, plus other good things…
* MY ETSY SHOP ~ 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. Here’s a sneak peek of a few of the new listings…
*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…
Blessings to you, friends, as we continue into this week, remembering who we are, and turning our face toward the Source of life. 🌻☀️
Love and Light,
Arianne
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