Katrina here. Blog #2. I was painting a young lady this afternoon downtown, and I noticed she was staring off into the buildings. I asked her what she was thinking about and she said, “I’m trying not to.” What a profound statement! We conjured up a business proposition: contemplative prayer meets fine art. Hmmmm… (It’s more like performance art, I suppose…) The question on many brains that needs attention is “HOW does one dump their brain clutter?” So, let’s talk about how to clear your brain. Well the parts are not difficult to understand, and naturally, this will look different for different people. I don’t have a recipe, but I have been trying some things. Here’s what you need to know:

1. Learn to trust more

2. Take your time, be graceful with yourself

3. Only say what you intend to do / only say what you mean

4. Do what you say / mean what you say

5. Be diligent (ask, seek and knock)

6. The door will open

Transparent Practicality — Here is what this has looked like for me. I haven’t perfected this at all, and this may only work for a season, but here is where I am at the moment. As I mentioned in my last post, I have just read David Allen’s Getting Things Done and Armchair Mystic by Mark Thibodeaux. And as Mark mentioned in the comments, these books seem quite opposed at first glance — one is about efficiency and the other is about the art of being. Doing vs. being. Are they really at odds?

I would venture to say that the art of being and contemplative prayer are a means to efficiency. I get much more accomplished when I am fully aware of my surroundings and my time than when I am quickly rushing from one thing to the next. I am also a nerd/geek. I love technology. I was taking apart computer hardware with my mom as a young girl while other girls were playing with Barbie dolls. So here is a tool I’ve been using to dump my brain. It’s a tool I’ve had to come to learn to use, and I like it. (And ultimately, true security is only found with God, and if it falls apart for some reason, I trust that He will provide and take care of me.) The tool is Toodledo, a free online software that manages tasks and assigns them priority. I use it in conjunction with Google Calendar. (You can see the little green checkbox next to the weather icons.) Here is a screen shot:

I like the fact that I can sit down to the checklist, take five minutes and dump everything that needs to get done (with a priority level and due date, if needed).

I used to do the same thing with checklists on pencil and paper, but I always dropped it because I would lose the checklist, and I was tired of transferring all of the tasks that I didn’t do onto a new sheet — I felt like a failure. Ultimately, I didn’t really trust the process either. I didn’t trust that I would do what I had said I would do.

Now, I use Toodledo as a referral point and a sacred space. By placing these things in this “silo”, my mind is like water. If I don’t intend to workout that day, I won’t write it on there! The only way this works is if I make the tool an authentic representation of what I truly desire and need to do. Otherwise a great deal of time and resources has been wasted. Once I’ve dumped those action items, I don’t think about them again (until it’s time for me to think about them). The process has been freeing and helpful.
This tool is one helpful lifestyle change that has really brought me peace of mind. Everyone’s approach will look slightly different. Please leave a comment if you have any suggestions or examples of what this looks like for you.

What about brain noise resulting from non-task based items? Like philosophical concerns or relationships? See you for the next post.

Katrina here. Today is the dawning of a new day! I’m going to start writing my *great* posts here on this blog. All of the posts on katrinawillis.wordpress.com will be art-specific, so be sure to check those out (or sign up for an RSS feed) if you’re interested in the art posts (I post those quasi-monthly).

In North America, we have a hard time sitting still, being quiet, or being with others in silence. Noise = comfort. In high school, I used to study with the TV running and the computer and a side conversation going at the same time. And I would venture to say that high schoolers today are doing the same thing still. I’m actually listening to music as I write this now. Try this exercise: take five minutes, and if you have one near, set an alarm to let you know when the 5 minute mark hits. Turn your computer screen off. Sit upright in the quiet and focus on one thing in the room. Breathe deeply. Try to let you mind STOP. Do not go to sleep.

….. how was it?

If you’re anything like me, you probably have experienced days where you’re thinking deeply on something… and there is constant brain chatter (leading to anxiousness). I wake up thinking about “things” and I spend the entire day thinking about “things” as if my thinking will result in some sort of change. “If I just think deeply or hard enough, I’ll live wisely.” If I meet someone who doesn’t “think” as much as I “think” then they’re obviously more hollow headed than me. End of story. Until recently…

I have been seeking peace of mind. Jesus told us that those who listen to him and do what he says will be like the man who built his house on the rock. When the rains come and the winds blow, the house will sit firm. But those who only listen to his words build their house on the sand. The writer of Proverbs says that as a dog returns to its vomit so a fool returns to his folly (26:11). In English, we call this rumination. We’re so comfy with our own vomit that we won’t seek out new food.

I’ve just recently read Armchair Mystic by Mark Thibodeaux and Getting Things Done by David Allen. In the mix, I’ve also been meditating on the Matthew 6:33 mantra (Seek first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness, and all of these things shall be added to you…)

The result has been the freeing art of the brain dump. What? How do you do that? Stay tuned.

I’m sitting here when I shouldn’t be.

Since February 15th, 2007 I’ve been working as a server in a steak house here in Abilene, TX. It had just opened and I was looking for a place to work while throttling back on school work. Since Katrina was working at ACU to pay the bills, my job was to pay off as many loans as we could while still living here in A-town (or “the LENE” ::shudder::).

It was an amazing experience. It took me out of the social circles that contained at LEAST 90% Christians and gave me a base of relationships that were at least 90% non-Christian. This is a missionary’s DREAM. I listened to their stories, laughed with their jokes (some of them anyway…okay…most of them), and prayed for the challenges in their lives. They are some of the most generous, authentic people I’ve ever met.

But in the last few months, I’ve begun to feel the tension of who I am and who I’m being called to be. My grades have been slacking, my marriage and home time was on the back burner, I had little to no time and even less energy to really focus on loving people here in Abilene or mission work and team development for God’s call to us to live in Chicago. In the end, the 30 hours a week I was spending at the restaurant that I had felt pulled to by God (as a way of reaching out to the lost, and a way to pay off loans) was now becoming a hinderance to what God was interested in us doing today (preparing for mission work in Chicago, and loving my wife stronger).

Katrina had just gone through the same thing right before quitting her full-time job. Since she’s been able to follow her dream as a painter, living and working with sane hours and more time with her husband, she’s been more in touch with God and his work in her. Maybe that inspired me, I don’t know. But as I sit here this morning, I’m struck by the absurdity of where God has us right now. BOTH of us are not working for a paycheck (though we are certainly working harder than we’ve ever worked before!), we’re no longer cramming in 60 hours of work in each week, and we ARE making room for what God has in store for us.

Still, as I sit here writing this post, something inside me is saying that I SHOULD be out begging money from customers, not trying to make my own living and truly, relying on the Lord to show me what’s next. Yet I know that is fear welling up inside me - and I’m prepared to follow after what God has for me here. At one level, this seems like the next step in a long journey toward intimacy with Father; at another level, it feels like something brand new.

This is a new and exciting time in our marriage, when we can be missionary partners for maybe the first time. This is a time when we can have the space to listen to God and plan what our steps will be in making our move to Chicago next summer. A time to believe that he is actually faithful in taking care of his children who love him. A time to love deeply, and to be deeply loved in return.

Come Be My Light is the new book being published this month which is causing quite a tumult in both Christian and major media circles. It is the journal entries of Mother Teresa during her years in the “Missionaries of Charity” in Calcutta, India. Since her passing, the Catholic Church has uncovered tons of documents on her and her life in the process of beautification (the path to sainthood).

What they found however shocked them. Apparently, for the last FIFTY years of her life, Teresa lived in a state of complete isolation from God. Dryness in prayer, emptiness of heart, and a mind full of doubt was somehow the driving force behind her daily interaction with the lepers, the dying and the “untouchable” caste in India. In fact, it was almost immediately AFTER she answered the call to follow Christ on mission into India that he stopped returning her calls. But why?

St. John of the Cross, a Spanish mystic calls this the “Dark Night of the Soul”, a state of pain and separation from God on the path toward greater union with him, but rarely does it ever last as long as Mother Teresa’s. And we can be sure that this was not just some naval gazing pity party. Teresa regularly gave her self away so that others could be blessed, and continued (much like someone serving a comatose spouse) seeking Jesus with no response from him.

This troubles a missionary’s heart. We believe that when we take leaps of faith (like we see Mother Teresa doing) we’re going to be rewarded with an amazing spiritual life filled with intimacy and connection with Christ. Not so for Teresa, who is in many ways a pioneer of incarnational missions.

Could her sense of the void between her and Christ be her sharing in the pain he experienced on the Cross for all humanity? In the moment when, having taken on the pain and sin of the world, he cries out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” could Teresa, having taken on the pain of so many actually come to a similar spiritual experience?

I’ve talked with enough Christians who work with the poor and the terminally ill to know that their crisis of faith comes mixed from not knowing why God doesn’t immediately fix the problems he has power over, and from losing sight of their own spiritual healthiness to continue serving others.

—

So I’m wondering: can someone experience Jesus’ separation from God as a part of their journey to live like Jesus did? Why does God allow so many people to remain stuck in the pain and misery that they are in? And, is it possible to serve others so much that it kills your spiritual life?