goals

Dealing with Internal Intimidation

I redirected my energies from my contemplative work into hospitality mid-April. It was to be a two-week hijacking, then a return to the regular route of days. But the pressures and demands didn’t relent. The attempts to incorporate new ideas and habits from classes, the convergence of three young lives summering with me, and some major emotional upheavals suctioned me into silence on my blog. Daily I remembered you and prayed, aching to write, yet simultaneously adding another daily granule of doubt or criticism to the weighted blanket of shame encasing me.

Shame casts imposing shadows and augments reality into mocking illusions. As a young girl I was intimidated by a rocking one-eyed shadow-giraffe glaring down from atop my curtain rod, daring me to foolishly mention it to my parents. I felt stupid for being afraid of it, and sure of being laughed at for speaking of it. So I remained silent, tense and paralyzed under the bedspread. I didn’t yet know the power that humbly laughing at yourself and sharing with others can have to dispel the thrall of fear and shame.

I’m throwing off my bedspread and padding over to you to tell you—I’ve been afraid to write again. The mocking voices inside wonder why I’m making such a big deal over this and try to squelch the importance of it. They leer at me saying nobody cares, no one needs to hear what I have to say—it won’t make a difference, and if you must say something why make a fool of yourself! Just slip under the radar and pretend nothing is happening—you just got busy, that’s all. This is how the enemy’s intimidation works on a soul whose safety is withdrawal and avoidance.

You need to hear it because I need to say it. Because you need to know there is someone else who is facing intimidation while moving forward into a big, exciting, terrifying calling with Jesus. You and I need to see light spill into this hidden dynamic of pressing on in faith and call it like it is: intimidation is real. Its expression can come in a myriad of ways depending on your particular triggers and personality, but it will come. If it silences you like it does me, raise your voice more and let safe people know what ghouls are dancing on your internal landscape. If big-eyed giraffes are ghosting through it, making you feel small and stupid, open the door to those who can provide the brilliant light of truth, hope, and grace. Its strength overpowers the shadows that loom in near-darkness.

Bright Sun

I told my spiritual director about the oppression I felt, and she noted that intimidation only works on those things you hold precious. As we explored the various circumstances where I had felt intimidated, I could see exactly what she meant. I opened the door to her and this realization swung it wide open. In the blaze, the fears have fizzled out, and I can move again. I’ve been avidly writing every day since.

Writing to you is precious to me. I marvel at how God meets me in it, feeding me, then taking it and feeding you, like miraculously feeding five thousand with two fish. His is not the way of stinginess, but the way of multiplication. His is not the way of oppression, but freedom. His is not the way of looming shadows, but of bracing light. Let’s all give our little fishes to Jesus to stretch them further than we ever thought possible—hopeful faithfulness begetting a feast of wonder in full sunlight.

 

Starting next week:

One of the things I explored in my summer class was the discipline of noticing. It’s a practice that I have found really opens my heart to encountering God. Just yesterday, after sending the boys to their school bus, I sat on the front stoop and stared at the dripping plants in our front garden. The water adhered to each in very distinct ways. I noticed how the growing things were all in arches and umbrels, no squares and straight lines. Their flexibility helped them bear the sudden weight of drops without breaking. Not only was it beautiful, but there was wisdom wrapped in the display decorated with water pearls. It encouraged me into flexibility for the day, rather than rigid accomplishment that often fractures under the pressure of unexpected changes. The day felt like a gift rather than a burden because I encountered God in this noticing.

This kind of gift exists in your everyday as well. I’m inviting you into a community exploration on Instagram of these gifts over the next few weeks. It doesn’t have to be long, deep, or fancy, just one thing you notice with a quick picture and however much you want to write about it. I’ll be posting a list at the beginning so we have a focus each day, but it’s open to whatever you notice and however you meet God. I will post the topics on IG in about a week, and thereafter anyone can join in with your posts on that topic with the hashtag #noticeGod and tagging me @writerkimberleymulder. So follow me on IG @writerkimberleymulder, and watch to join in! I will write more in my next post when I kick off this IG practice. I am so curious to see what God has waiting for us to feed our souls! Shalom to you!

Posted by k2mulder in Courage, 0 comments

Step Aside A Moment

When life is coming at you full-on force, clarity and intention drain away in the torrent like watercolors bloated with water. The picture we were so carefully painting becomes nondescript, even unrecognizable.

water spray window

Photo by Kimberley Mulder


These weeks tailing our summer feel like this, and I am gasping. At a time when I have emptied my reserves, I find I must rally all strength—not to push through the onslaught necessarily, but to shelter and rest.

Automatically, I push back at force to prove you can’t get me down, and it can seem too vulnerable to go with the flow. It requires strength of spirit, mind, and will to step aside into a quiet space, remember and renew my intentions, and trust I am not losing ground as I catch my breath.
But in these lulls Jesus blots the swollen, running colors until the picture is recognizable again. He is creating my life with me and it is his brushstroke that becomes permanent on my page, not the tearing, striking stormrains motley mess.

So step aside a moment today, take a breath, clear your vision, and let Jesus paint your picture.

Shortly after writing this first part I stopped at the lake nearby to clear my mind. God gave me a speech in the fluid painting of sky, the rush of cloudburst, the whisper of water lapping, the silent wing of swallows, and the flow of colors mutely inscribing awe as it seeped into my heart’s depth with their molten heights. 

sunset over Alum Creek

Photo by Kimberley Mulder

My heart rested in new understanding, in something I didn’t even know I needed to know until God said it through his sunset speech. A sudden intuitive understanding rose within like the glowing gilding of the clouds in relief before me, causing my own cloudburst of relieving tears. And as the sun sank beyond my horizon, I laid some things to rest that had passed away and needed to be let go.

Now the new day can rise without the burden of the old.

I encourage you to turn aside into quiet pockets when life is blasting you with busy-ness or trial to reorient yourself and receive Jesus’s loving strength.

 

I hope and pray you are encouraged by these blog posts, and that your quiet soul is thriving. I want to provide more resources for you, and to do that I have a short questionnaire for you to give me feedback. If you would take a moment to fill it out, it will help me bless you as I build and grow this little ministry. Thank you!

Click here to access the questionnaire.

Also, I am embarking on my Master’s in Ministry at Portland Seminary starting in a week! As I become more equipped to assist you with your spirit thriving, I will need to dial back my blog posts to twice a month rather than weekly. As always, feel free to contact me, comment, share my posts on Facebook, and follow me on Instagram @writerkimberleymulder. I will often write short, in-the-moment, thoughts and observations on Instagram, so it’s a good way to stay in touch.

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Parenting is a Puzzle

I love being able to look ahead to a goal and work backward from that to establish the step before me today. It’s somewhat like making a puzzle, where you’ve got the top of the box to go by, and a zillion colorful cardboard bits jumbled before you. First step – flip them all right side up. Second step – find the edge pieces. Third step – study the picture and choose an obvious image to assemble first (don’t start with the sky!). Fourth step – keep doing this section by section, until – ta-da! – you have a completed picture!

I apply this in life. To my children. (Do you hear the threatening turn in the music?) As if they were a project, a simple flip of a puzzle piece to be maneuvered into place. The picture I’m trying to make with their lives is obvious – to me.

“You don’t want to do that? Why can’t you just calm down, can’t you see it’s for your best? If you do [insert homework, cleaning, saying sorry, etc.], then you will be prepared for tomorrow by having these skills, so why wouldn’t you do it now?” C’mon, just flip. But instead, the puzzle piece tumbles to the floor, face down, frustrated and unyielding.

If my kids could see and understand the trajectories in my head that thread through their lives today, they might be glad for the direction, but they’d more likely rebel. It’s not their picture. They have their own puzzle box lids to look at and only they can assemble it. God has given them their own puzzle box to follow, and I only see glimpses of it. God shows us parents enough to support them in seeing their pictures, to show them how to assemble a puzzle, but not enough that we can put them together piece-by-piece. What’s inside is between Him and them.

https://pixabay.com/en/child-puzzles-photo-montage-2970588/

Oh, that’s humbling. And it takes a huge amount of confidence in God to not put my hands in the puzzle box, trusting that He will assemble the picture.

When I want my child to behave a certain way, or cooperate with my plans, and I push into steel-edged word-weapons, impatiently enforcing immediate change I know that I am working on my own puzzle, not holding the box to theirs.

As a parent, I know better. I know raising my voice isn’t the right way. I know they have to make their own mistakes. I know that they should choose what I want them to choose because my experience informs that. But that’s my experience, not theirs.

But, dear parent, do you know that Jesus put up with your mistakes and misbehaviors, your past ones and your present ones, even the one you are committing now as your eyes set in hard flint, your voice rises in sharpness, and your blood boils?

“[Jesus] waits, with patience, the opportune moment…Why be more demanding and impatient than God?”

Jesus often waits for years for that opportune moment, for that puzzle piece to click into place. We, parents, need to humble ourselves to the master puzzle maker, for we do not see our kids’ pictures clearly. We, parents, need to have confidence in his ability to work out the trajectories in our kids’ lives. We, parents, need to provide the home for our children to develop their own relationships with God, and we need to show them how to be a puzzle piece in the hands of God, how saying sorry and asking forgiveness is part of our pictures, too.

Posted by k2mulder, 0 comments

What are you going to do when your goals get interrupted this year?

With a vicious flourish I slammed the comforter off and stomp-tiptoed rapidly down the stairs to the kitchen, an earplug in hand, everything fuzzy, like looking through a camera with snowflakes covering the lens, for I hadn’t put on my glasses. One thing was flashing in my mind – Stop that incessant banging! My sleep-in morning had been cut short and my overly tired kids’ sleep-in morning was being threatened by the culprit.

My poor husband was standing at the sink making coffee, as quietly as he could I’m sure, while our exuberant puppy was whomping his new hard plastic blue bone underneath the table. It’s going to be a long day for puppy and I…

(A text later claimed it was the cat bonking the step stool over his food as he ate…)

I returned to bed hoping I could calm down enough to drop off to sleep but the damage was done, so I glanced at my phone for updates before heading back downstairs. There, a much greater interruption awaited my attention: school had been cancelled. Now, on top of the aggravation of being woken, I mourned the loss of my first quiet day in three weeks, the loss of my plan to spend as many hours as God and I liked being in His presence. This is something I do every January for the last few years, and I look forward to it all year. Now, it is postponed and I am sad to have to wait.

Interruptions. How I hate them. I am one who is not naturally imbued with a flexibility to bend with them, rather, I fight them. Knowing this has helped me over the years as I’ve been able to train myself, mind over matter, to often extend calm over the flame of frustration. I’ve had plenty of practice with three kids in the house! Still, I have to work on flexibility every day.

There are days that start like I recorded above and it is all too easy to lounge in that angry place, effectively dooming the day to darkness. The momentary interruption becomes a tool in Satan’s hands and my joy and hope is drained through the rift. The day is dotted with conflict and welded with grumble.

But it doesn’t have to be that way.

As much as I’d like to have things go my way, they won’t. I am not God. I am not sovereign. I have to accept that. Accept the fact that I am unable to change or control these interruptions.

If you surrender to the great I am, then accepting what is becomes easier. I am is in these moments, even the interruptions.

Sometimes He specifically sends interruptions; sometimes He uses them; always they are in His hands. Left in His hands, they can be tools to shape our character (think flexibility and grace), even tools to shape our footsteps.

When death and illness interrupted my life 20 years ago, God used it to drastically change my direction. I could have fought it to pursue the plan I had, which I felt God had given me, but during the days of decision I accepted the interruption and God’s help to follow his lead. I postponed the plan, and took a step on what I initially thought was a detour, but turned out to be a new path full of blessing. I was just going step by step as God met certain needs of the time. Little did I know that these interruptions would be the tools He would use to shape my family, my spirit and my future.

As we enter 2018 with our new and renewed goals, fresh plans and great hopes, let’s resolve to meet the inevitable interruptions with hope, knowing God is in them and will meet us even there. They may be there to shape your character or your future. They may be there for a divine appointment. Accept them and look for God in them. He is there, waiting for you.

Posted by k2mulder in Spiritual Formation, 2 comments