11.23 // The Last Day

With Thanksgiving and some travels planned next week (heal up, Ben!), this is my last examen post for the National Novel(-ish) Writing Month(-ish) challenge!

As I reflect on the process, including both the examen and the writing itself, I have been consistently struck by three thoughts.

1. There is always more.
For the last three weeks, I have found myself waking up each morning and thinking“Good grief, what on earth am I going to write about today?” This would lead me to feel slightly anxious, often wondering if I will get to the end of the evening, sit down to practice and reflect and come up with absolutely nothing.
And some days were like that at first.
I would sit in the examen and then… nada.

But it always would come.
Sometimes slowly, and other days like a great rush.
But over the last several weeks, I have been wonderfully surprised at how God was (and is) present every single day. And not only present and active, but God is moving in unique ways, new ways, too. Each day there was a new gift, a new perspective, and new chance to see Him right where I was (which was at home, with three sweet yet slobbery kids, in the middle of the cornfields).

There is always more of God. And most days, there is more of myself to know and lean into, too. My tendency is to believe that there is some kind of spiritual or creative scarcity. And yet the abundant life that Jesus promises is life where there is a surplus of grace and ideas and expressions! And because of this, we are offered rich, exciting life in Him.
Kingdom living is never stagnant.

Painter and spiritual director Scott Erickson says that “We are not the creators of content. We are the conduits of content.” God is the Creator of all that there is to say, all that there is to share and all that is worth expressing. We are the unique and beloved channels by which His truth is made known in the world. And with each one’s personhood, there are infinite forms for creativity and art.

So (exhale) there is so much less pressure than we tend to believe. We do not need to “come up with something” or “make up something worth saying.”
We simply have to notice where God is already at work.
And then with that beauty in our mind, heart, and hands, we can then declare it to the world with paint or photos or words.

2. The practice is harder than the expression.
As a student, I remember teachers assigning crazy amounts of dense reading throughout high school, especially in literature and history classes. It was expected (supposedly) that we would go home and read the selection in order to be ready for a future unit test. However, a few days before the exam, the teacher would give a study guide or review packet or some condensed form of the unit as a way to prepare.
So if you were smart, you would nix the long, dry reading and simply memorize the study guide, saving yourself a lot of time and energy and effort for possibly the same result come test day.
Is that wrong? Well, we probably did not master the material as well as we could have. We didn’t really learn everything that we were intended to. Our education was not as “rich” as it could have been if we took the time to savor the text and take notes.
But in those classes, you were assessed by your test grade— how many questions you answered correctly. We were not assessed by the depth or application of our knowledge, growth that is better determined by conversations or essays or the like. If the goal is pass the test, then it didn’t matter how we did that. If the goal was to learn European history, then well, we probably didn’t.

You can probably see where this is going.

Our spiritual growth and life is not a test. But often we treat it that way.
If you are like me, we have taken our understanding of learning from the classroom and applied it to walking with Jesus.
Basically, we don’t care much about the grind.
We want and value the end result.

And I’m realizing more and more, that is not how living withGod works.

Throughout this process, it was a lot easier to write about a topic each night than to actually sit down, slow down, and practice the examen without an agenda. (We’re being honest now, aren’t we?)
It was easier to go throughout my day looking for an idea for a reflection rather than looking for Jesus.
It was much more natural to focus on the writing itself than the examen.
My moments can quickly become something I can “use” later rather than glimpses of God’s heart, invitations to be with Him.

(And, to be forthright, its part of the reason I am wrapping up before Thanksgiving! I want to be present with family and friends without worrying about time to write and finding something to say! I want to practice being grateful rather than just doing something pertaining to gratitude. We’ll see how it goes…)

Even tonight, it is difficult for me to actually move through the questions when what I really want to do is open my laptop. At the end of the day, that’s all that will be seen— the product, the reflection, the writing. But I know this temptation defeats the whole entire point. Writing about prayer when you don’t actually pray is useless. Writing about Jesus when you haven’t sat and listened or enjoyed Him is foolishness and dishonest.

And so it has been revealing to me how much I still value performance over process.
(Any Enneagram 3’s in the room?)

This struggle is something I want to continue to embrace and bring into examen practices:
Where did I see God today and simply savor Him, allowing those moments to affect me deeply, without any other agenda?
Were there times when I wanted to “use” a moment or person or place rather than honor it and give thanks for it?
What is God saying to me today? Rather than, what can I write about later?

3. We need others to join us where we are.
I have completed the NaNoWriMo before, and I sincerely enjoy/need the push to actually sit down and make a creative dream happen. But this year, I knew that I needed to get over my fear of sharing art with others. I hate peer edits and creative writing classes because I fear “failing” at them. Or even worse, being perceived as stupid or prideful or ignorant. So over the last decade, I’ve filled journals and folders, but rarely read anything aloud or allow others to read what I’ve written. So this year, I want to kick that fear in the pants.

I remember telling Jackson the night before it all started that I had zero expectations for this writing. I don’t hope for any result other than posting everyday. I don’t care if people read them or if anyone likes them or if the effort was considered impressive or naive or whatever. (And again, Enneagram 3, so this is a big move for me.)

And even though I had no real hopes for this little project other than facing fear and just doing it, I was met with such love and encouragement. Friends came out of the wood work from every phase of my life to comment, text, and respond to my experiences here in the parsonage. Their shared life moved me far more than their praise. And so if you joined me in this project in any way, thank you.
And I really mean that: thank you.

Because we truly are in this together.
Whether you are married and/or have kids or not; whether you are in the church or not; whether you live in the midwest or not— it really didn’t seem to matter.
We all need to hear that life is, at times and at best, a total grind.
Life is hard and joyous and numbing all in a single month (or less).
And its like that for all of us.

I also was moved by the resistance to prescribe solutions or answers to questions I posed or pain I expressed in various posts. Vulnerability (scary!) is best received with “I hear you” or “me, too.”
And at times it moved me to tears to realize that I was not the only one.

We simply need to say the hard truth, and at times we are the first ones to speak.
But when we finally do, there is bound to someone (or a few others) that are inspired or comforted or no longer alone. And I was lucky enough to be on both sides of this reality— to be the one to share, but also the one to say, “me, too.”

So cheers, dear friends!
Thank you for a wonderful month(-ish) of gratitude, spiritual practice, and creative expression!

Michaela