Category: Uncategorized

by Kay Klinkenborg, member, Church of the Palms

The American public has been ‘saturated’ by the news of the upcoming political party primaries and the 2024 presidential election for over a year.  If you are like the majority of US citizens, we have been experiencing election induced stress since 2016 ^3,4,5.  It is not a formal diagnosis ³, but these are intense times in our country, and I recommend we be intentional about taking care of ourselves emotionally and in doing that we can be balanced with ourselves spiritually and physically.  (I don’t separate spiritual care from emotional care…some people do).

Saturation…an experiencing to the boiling point; something about to run amok; can’t hear anymore and don’t know what to do with the information I have already.  Oxford Dictionary describes it “as much as can be absorbed”.   I am recommending we learn to set some boundaries, be pro-active in this election year and not reach saturation; and when we recognize that is beginning, we activate choices to keep ourselves informed and balanced.

In our capitalistic world, self-care is often seen as selfish…not true. Jessica Young Brown Licensed Clinical Psychologist writes in Duke University’s Divinity School “News & Ideas” blog:

“Self-care is a multifaceted act of stewardship, which attends to multiple life demands. Self-care entails building a system of practices to support our living the rich and satisfying life that Jesus talks about in John 10 … ‘I have come that you may have life more abundantly’. It is an evolving process, in conversation with the Holy Spirit, that honors the whole person.”¹

I researched self-care during election years … nothing new has shown up since 2022.  This tells me … we have been living in a ‘constant state of stress’ for several years.  Most people reading this article understand self-care: diet, exercise, sleep, etc.  I am offering some new ideas to consider and you decide what to incorporate.

STOP DOOMSCROLLING: PUT THE PHONE DOWN. 

A relative new word in our culture, Cole Arthur Riley, author of Black Liturgies: Prayers, Poems and Meditations for Staying Human has a chapter in this book “For Those Who Doomscroll”.  She writes: “God … remind us that there is much the world needs, including our attention to atrocity—but if we watch the world burn for long enough, the fire becomes our only reality.”^2,3,4

Set boundaries on scanning for updates on your phone. It becomes addictive to need the newest update of the news. Remember before cell-phones, we got news one time a day in the evening, or through the daily newspaper. This abnormal attachment creates an unconscious anxiety, constant vigilance and apprehension if we aren’t up to the minute on the latest development. In fact: “The excessive consumption of news and social media predicts poorer long-term mental health during times of crisis.”³

CONTROL COMPUTER, TV, and PRINT CONSUMPTION

Limit how many news shows you watch a day.  In reality, why would need an hourly check-in … ? We don’t.  We have been unconsciously conditioned to think we are going to miss something if we don’t stay up to date.  It is recommended you select two times a day to watch a portion of news. It is also recommended you not watch news at least one hour before going to bed.  The last thing you put in your mind influences your quality of sleep and dreams.  Screen-light of phones, I-Pads, computers is not good for getting to sleep and staying asleep.  One hour disconnect prior to bed is recommended.

When reading ask: ‘Is this article helpful?’ and ‘Is this article real (or reflective of my own truth)?’ If you answer ‘no’ to either of those questions, give yourself permission to move on from it.⁵ Also ask, is this making me more anxious?  If so, lay it down.  You know the information you’ve gleaned thus far, trust yourself.

AVOID ‘WORSE CASE SCENARIO’ THINKING

Good news doesn’t bring customers to the TV, media or networks.  Bad news, sensationalism, repetitive telling of news increases viewership.  ‘Worst case scenarios’, or ‘what if…’ keeps us wired with adrenaline and living unconsciously with anxiety. A personal opinion, news shows do a lot of speculation, bringing in experts attempting to predict the next scenario. We can think for ourselves, draw conclusions and questions. Why sit listening to continuous speculations about events … that is not stewardship of our time. 

Catastrophic thinking is a learned behavior for many of us.  Previously in our life it served a purpose to help us be emotionally prepared for the ‘worst case scenario and not be caught off guard.’  We can change that thinking.  We can learn to stop catastrophic thinking and thus significantly reduce the anxiety we are unconsciously living with. That type of stress is not good for our bodies.  It creates a lot of ‘cortisol (adrenalin) dumping’ that is physically harmful.

KNOW YOUR ‘RANGE OF INFLUENCE’

Being informed voters is our responsibility. We can accomplish that while doing self-care.

Each of us determines with our physical and emotional energy what we can do to be involved politically. We need to honor each other’s choices of how to stay engaged. We might be actively working a phone line, writing emails/letters to state and federally elected officials, we might be lifting our concerns in prayer, or making financial contributions.  It matters not what you do … it is that you make a choice.

We cannot control politics at large; BUT we have voice. That is our democratic system. Not having control of the outcome personally is hard for most of us.  Learning to live with ambiguity is a spiritual practice.  Living without knowing … we call that practicing faith.  We come learning how to do that; thus we need to continue practicing.

“Most of the political climate is not controlled by us nor can we change other’s beliefs or feelings around it. Accepting the idea that we can only control ourselves and change things for us is a powerful reminder to not get caught up ruminating on the unchangeable and the uncontrollable. It is important to point the finger inward and ask, ‘What about this can I change and control?’ before you get caught up in the stress of it all.”⁵

MOVE

One of the more important things I learned as a counselor helping others under stress, what ever the cause … movement changes thinking.  If you get up and go to another room, you have activated new neurocircuits … you see things differently because you literally aren’t in the same location.  You interpret things differently because you have created a surge of fresh oxygen through your body. Do a different activity. Go for a walk.  Raise your arms in the air ten times in a row. MOVE.  It will shift something within you, and you can regroup.  (Resources 2-6 suggested this as one of their priorities in self-care during election times).

CONNECT

Reach out to trusted friends. Find a discussion group or create one. Do not go this year of stress alone.  The US and the world are at a heightened level of stress and concern like our generation hasn’t witnessed before.  Community is vital to stay grounded, in touch with self, receive feedback, and receive compassion from others.

GRATITUDE

If you are not in the practice of keeping a gratitude journal, or at least verbally lifting up gratitude once a day … it a marvelous time to start.  Things are tough right now.  It is hard to know the reality of what is happening in the world, our country, our state, our county, etc.  Plus, we are living our own personal experiences we are processing in the midst of this year.  Gratitude owning keeps me more balanced quickly than almost any other tool I use for self-care.  Own our blessings, lift up thanksgiving.         

We are all more blind to what we have than to what we have not. –Audre Lorde

We can do this hard year.  We will find our way.  We can walk this path.  We are not alone.

“I can do all things through {the} Christ who strengthens me.” –Philippians 4:13 (KJV)

My prayer for us this year:

Dear God, may we challenge ourselves this year to stay informed of the critical issues.  Guide us in practicing stewardship with balanced and wise use of time, energy and self-care. Guide us to catch when we are reaching saturation with the noise of the naysayers, too much media.  Remind us to intentionally move to positive choices; not trapped in catastrophic thinking or mistrust of our own truth. May we claim the inherent good within each of us and lean into our faith and humankind’s capacity for compassion and justice.  Amen

¹ Young-Brown, Jessica (2023).  “Self-Care is Not Self-Soothing”; May 2, https://leadership@divduke.edu.

²  Riley, Cole Arthur (2024). Black Liturgies: Prayers, Poems and Meditations for Staying Human.

³ “Mental Health and Wellness: Coping with Election-Related Stress”. Berkeley University Heath:

https://uhs.berkeley.edu/mental-health-and-wellness-coping-election-related-stress

⁴ Stieg, Corey, (2020) CNBC Report:

https://www.cnbc.com/2020/10/07/study-american-adults-report-election-stress-anxiety-tips.html

⁵  Managing Your Mental Health in An Election Year”, (2020).

      https://blog.umd.edu/terpstakecare/managing-your-mental-health-in-an- election-year/  Univ of Maryland.

⁶ “Self-Care Tips for an Election Year”; (Updated: May 20, 2022). Colibri Collective:

https://www.thecolibricollective.com/post/self-care-tips-for-an-election-year

© Kay F. Klinkenborg, MA (January, 2024)

     Spiritual Director; Member Spiritual Directors International; Author & Poet

     Retired: RN; LMFT; Clinical Member AAMFT    

by Rev. Deb Worley

“To every thing there is a season, 
and a time to every purpose under the heaven…”
 
(Ecclesiastes 3:1; King James Version)


Familiar words to many 
(thanks in no small part to the Byrds! 
For the full Biblical version, click here)
and words that seemed fitting 
for this time of bidding farewell to 2021 
and bidding welcome to 2022.


As we reflect on the year that has come to a close, 
and prepare to step into yet another “new” one,
perhaps it might be helpful to remember:
 
“To every thing there is a season, 
and a time to every purpose under the heaven…” 


As we reflect on the year that has come to a close, 
and remember the ups and the downs,
the pleasant and the unpleasant,
the good, the bad, the beautiful, and the ugly,
and everything in-between,
let us not feel drawn to claim only
the pleasant, the good, and the beautiful
(and hope for more of all of that 
in the coming year), 
and judge or feel shame
or want to hide or deny 
what feels unpleasant, bad, and ugly, 
(and long for less of all of that 
in the year that’s just begun).
Rather, let us remember:

“To every thing there is a season, 
and a time to every purpose under the heaven…”


As we reflect on the year that has come to a close, 
and prepare to step into yet another “new” one,
may we acknowledge 
and hold with tenderness 
the times of grief and sadness,
as we also give thanks 
for those of joy…

“To every thing there is a season, 
and a time to every purpose under the heaven…”


May we acknowledge 
and hold with kindness
the reality of our exhaustion,
as we also give thanks 

for momentary surges of energy…

“To every thing there is a season, 
and a time to every purpose under the heaven…”


May we acknowledge 
and hold with gentleness
the expressions of heartache, 
often veiled in outbursts of anger,
as we also give thanks 
for manifestations of compassion, 
expressed in all kinds of generosity…

“To every thing there is a season, 
and a time to every purpose under the heaven…”


May we acknowledge 
and hold with grace
the moments of doubt and fear,
as well as those of abiding love…

“To every thing there is a season, 
and a time to every purpose under the heaven…”


As we reflect on the year that is coming to a close, 
may we hold space for it all, 
with tenderness and kindness, 
with gentleness and grace--
for ourselves, 
for our loved ones,
for our neighbors 
and even our enemies;
may we hold space for it all, 
with vulnerability
and with courage,
 recognizing that, indeed

“To every thing there is a season, 
and a time to every purpose under the heaven…”


As we reflect on the year that is coming to a close, 
may we recognize those seasons
that have nourished us, 
and those that have depleted us;
may we acknowledge those seasons 
that have led us to shake our fist at God 
and rage against the universe,
and weep and wail and withdraw,
as well as those 
in which we have found ourselves
 rejoicing and giving thanks
at the beauty and wonder of it all…

“To every thing there is a season, 
and a time to every purpose under the heaven…”


As we reflect on the year that has come to a close, 
and prepare to step into yet another “new” one,
perhaps it might be helpful to remember: 

“To every thing there is a season, 
and a time to every purpose under the heaven…” 

and as people of faith we claim and proclaim that,
in every season and in every time,
God, the Maker of Heaven and Earth, 
God, Creator of all that is,
God, who took on flesh and walked among us as Jesus of Nazareth, 
God, who dwells in all persons as the Holy Spirit,
God, Emmanuel, is with us!


Thanks be to God!
And Happy New Year!
Deb

by Hailey Lyons

Every January I parse out what I want from the coming year. Sometimes this takes the form of a written list of goals; other times I sketch out ideas and possibilities that aren’t just for the coming year but beyond. When I entered high school, I had goals I wanted to accomplish spanning all four years. In undergrad I did the same, adjusting each year and checking back in with how far I’d come. These visions of the future, possibilities of what might be, delighted me as much as they terrified me.

Movements, organizations, and politics are dictated by competing visions of the possible future. Possibilities make us feel a part of something greater and better. Possibilities spur us to do great things even in the face of terrible odds. Possibilities lead us toward liberation, allowing us to breathe even as the oppressor grinds their boot on our necks. When we in the UCC envision a Just World for All, we ask what that actually looks like. We talk not just to each other, but to those we have nothing in common with. In the confluence, we dream up a just world for all with the necessary emphasis on all.

In my Evangelical tradition, the book of Revelation was a carefully pored over manual on Eschatology. Millennialism and its other forms became the battlegrounds for the time leading up to a new Heaven and Earth. Now, I understand the apocalyptic rhetoric of John during his exile on Patmos as a canonized microcosm of the apocalyptic tradition of the era. An era in which a vast empire ruled with an iron fist and a divine mandate. Visions of the end of that empire, visions of justice, and of accountability proliferated. And in their midst were revolutionary visions of future possibilities, symbolic and majestic, that incorporated justice and peace to form something beautiful. Thus, we read of lions laying down with lambs and of swords beaten into plowshares. A grand city and a world in which there are no more tears.

For two thousand years, Christianity has made its mark on the West and imperialized much of the known world. An empire that rules with the iron fist of capitalism and faux democracy with a presumed divine mandate. Coupled with a postmodern world in which the acceleration of history necessitates apocalyptic rhetoric, it is time we revisited John’s Revelation.

We must imagine an end, and then a new beginning for Christianity itself. Not with the small hope of merely subsisting, but with great and powerful visions of the future for our denomination and the Church Universal. What do you envision as a just world for all? What grand dreams – literal and symbolic – give you hope? Imagine the fruition of possibilities. But don’t stop there. Share your visions with others. Share your visions with those inside and outside your congregation. Write, talk, create art around them. Test them with the visions of others and find intersectional community. That is the way we find the future together. A Just World for All.

by John Indermark

In November of 2000, I received the phone call from my sister in St. Louis, saying that our mother had died. This was 12 years after Mom had been tentatively diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, and 10 years after she had been committed to the first of several institutions. Those years were dark times: in her life, and in the lives of those of us who loved her. Moments of clarity grew more isolated, and briefer. Finding a way forward became a difficult task.

I am reminded of those years with the onset of COVID-19. The duration may not stretch out in length like the one I write of above. But in the midst of this crisis, the challenges are similar. Ordinary means of experiencing community (read, “family”) are suspended. The cost of “social distancing,” while necessary, is real. Finding a way forward – whether the context is having to deal with work from home or worse yet no work, or developing new ways of worship and pastoral care and administration overnight – requires extraordinary creativity and hope that we are not just going through the motions until a return to normal . . . whatever and whenever that may be.

And above all, in communities like those that gather us, whether in pews or in front of personal LCD screens, finding a way forward requires faith. Faith that COVID-19 does not hold the last word.

For me, the reminder of faith’s indispensable part in finding a way forward came the same afternoon as that phone call from my sister. The immediate aftermath of that call on my part was a profound sense of sadness and loss. But that afternoon, our local PBS radio station chose to play a set of South African freedom songs. I no longer remember the specific ones. But what lingers is the profound sense of release they affirmed for Mom, and for our family’s long-endured grief. Even in the worst of times, a way forward can be found. And at the head of that way, at the lead of that procession, is the One whose Grace has the last word for us all. COVID 19 does not get the last word. God does.

That does not mean we get to be all Pollyanna about the way ahead for us as individuals and churches and as a nation. We are still, as one commentator recently noted, only at the beginning of the beginning. But in the words of Isaiah, our faith affirms this: Even when we pass through the waters, even when we walk through the fires: we journey with the promise and gift of Holy Presence. Or, to use the words of our sisters and brothers in the United Church of Canada:

            In life, in death, in life beyond death,
                      God is with us.
                                We are not alone.
                                         Thanks be to God.  

by Jocelyn Emerson

For me, Lent is a time to slow ourselves down, to ponder, to wander, to contemplate, to be still. Lent is a journey. Each Lenten journey is different and unique.

For me, the Labyrinth is a beautiful metaphor for the Lenten journey. You start at the beginning following the path set before you. Depending upon which style Labyrinth you walk, you twist and turn, sometimes facing the center (your goal), sometimes turning away from the center. If you stay on the path, trusting its wander way, you will end up in the Center — the center of your heart, the center of your soul, that sacred place where Spirit resides within you. Each step you take on the labyrinth is an invitation to prepare for the center — to slow, to deepen, to open yourself to the movement and presence of Spirit.

As you enter the Center, your walk has prepared you for being fully in the Presence of the Sacred. You are invited to commune with the Sacred. Stay there as long as you would like, Pray your questions and await answers. Release what no longer serves you. Heal. Sing. Be Still.

When you are ready, with gratitude in your heart, you follow the same path outward. Each turn toward the Center an opportunity to embody deeper gratitude for the blessings you received. Each turn away, an opportunity to prepare to re-enter the outer world, to integrate what you received in the Center with your ordinary life.

This is the Lenten journey. You have an opportunity this Lenten season to journey to the center of your Heart. What is there? What are you cherishing? What needs healing? What needs releasing? What are the shadows hiding? What is the Light illuminating?

I hope this Lenten season you will journey deep into the Center of the Center of the Center of your Heart.

image credit:
Jocelyn Emerson
Purple Adobe Lavender Farm Labyrinth
Ojo Caliente, NM

by Davin Franklin-Hicks

How do we make sense of an internal commitment to love while the external world is spewing so much fear, and so much hate?

These are my efforts to reconcile that reality. 

Anger, fear, and hate exist as a demonstration of futility. These emotions and states of mind are finite, limited and diminishing. It can feel powerful. It can feel easy and safe. It can feel certain and strong. It is the very opposite of this, though. 

These states of mind and emotion have the largest taxation on our soul. It’s exhausting. They cannot be sustained and leave us lonely, empty and lost.

Anger, fear and hate occur when we are idle and reactive. 

Love is cultivated and nurtured in our skillful, intentional actions. 

Love is powerful. It can be steady, understated and quiet. It can be fierce, passionate, charged. Love holds us, replenishes us again and again.

While hate languishes and grapples and clings and begs and wails and cries as it dies…

Love remains. 

by Abigail Conley

It’s the week of church meetings of a different sort. The United Methodists are meeting to figure out their relationship with the LGBTQ+ community. The Roman Catholics are meeting over their sexual abuse scandals. I never know if people who aren’t clergy are as aware of these sorts of meetings. They always blow up my social media and then some.

I don’t discredit the importance of these meetings. I can only begin to imagine the pain wrapped up in the meetings. Like many people, I have my own share of church-inflicted trauma. There are styles of prayer that will make me physically ill because they remind me of a different sort of church. There are songs and styles of preaching that do the same.  I mostly keep away from them now, though some trigger pops up unexpectedly every now and then.

And yet, I remember this: it was the church that taught me to trust people.

Strangely, wonderfully, hopefully, transformingly: the church taught me to trust people. I say people because I still don’t know what to do with the institution, and that’s another conversation entirely. But if I begin to count the people who cared for me and honored the covenants I was born into, there is no end.

I think first of Ruth, seemingly ancient in my mind. Her hair was always done in a French twist, which fascinated me as my family sat behind her in church. I remember talking with her, which means she bothered to talk to me as a child. I remember the feel of her hand on mine as it grasped the back of the pew. The endless patience I recall from elementary school had to be there all of my life, including when I played with Cheerios to make it through worship as a toddler.

Truth be told, it’s probably my fault that the children’s sermon at my childhood church was short lived. The pastor didn’t really know what he was doing when he started that particular addition to worship and I gave lots of unhelpful answers and so it only lasted a few weeks. That same pastor, though, gladly fulfilled my requests of him at church potlucks: black pop only and help removing the devil from my deviled egg. He shook my hand at the door, too.

Maybe it seems weird to name those simple things as honoring covenant, but to me they are. People cared about me, took care of me, and made space for me because we were church. The breadth and depth is astonishing now.

Randy both taught my Sunday school class and let me rollerskate down the hallway with his daughters. Kenny and Sheila had long ago lost control of their house when the third kid was born, and so they hosted all of the kids in the church for sleepovers. We played crocodile on their king-sized waterbed—an absurd game of someone lying in the middle trying to knock everyone else off the edge—and ate blueberry pancakes in the morning. We piled on wagons for hayrides and Kenny misjudged bridges so we had to get off and walk. Still, they kept us safe along the way.

It was this strange world of people who were different than family and different than just being together in a small town. I say that because these people were still there long after I left a small town, just there, choosing to be church.

The church where I was ordained took care of me as a seminary student long before they ordained me. Elizabeth, in charge of the children’s Easter egg hunt, pressed $20 for gas into my hand because she knew it was a long trip to the church in a time when gas prices were very high. They asked if I needed help buying tires for my car and packed up extra pizza to take home. When I had the youth van rental charged to my credit card, a reimbursement check was waiting for me when I got back from the event. They gave me every reason to believe them, to trust them, day in and day out.

And I think of the other things they got right. They loved the gay kid in a church that wasn’t ready for any conversations about becoming Open and Affirming. They made space for the adult with Down syndrome. Occasionally, there was the hot mess at a board meeting because, well, that whole wrangling with institution thing. But each and every person taught me trust, simply by existing together as church.

I skipped over the people in college, the church I attended as a teenager, the churches I have served after ordination. Each adds its own flair to the larger picture: these are people who live into covenant in ways that would not be possible except for the Spirit among them. And I trust them—indeed, with my very life in the vocation of pastor.

Many of us find ourselves tied to the church in spite of a million things. Some days, I’m one of them. More often, I am overwhelmed, dazzled even, by these church people who faithfully work to reflect the Christ they serve. I am humbled by the gift of trust they gave to me, and I hope to share with others. It is my deepest hope that, with God’s help, the lasting memory will be all the times the church got it right.