Listening for God

Am I a person of faith? Well I guess it depends on what day you ask me. I always say that I am. I go to church. I taught Sunday school. I’ve taken part in my share of pot luck dinners (an act of true faith, as you never know what you’re going to get on those occasions). But there have been times, I concede, that I found myself merely going through the motions.

In fact, a few years ago I was so much in the cycle of going through the motions that I didn’t even want to go to church anymore. I found myself overcome with vast amounts of guilt because I didn’t feel “spiritual” enough when I was in church. It was a time in my life when emptiness trumped all other feelings I may have had. I couldn’t get into the whole religiosity thing. As a result, sitting in church turned out to be a weekly struggle to prevent the tears from flowing. I wanted so desperately to feel the Holy Spirit inside of me. And because I couldn’t, I deemed myself a hypocrite – one not worthy to be sitting in a place of worship. I eventually shared these feelings with my pastor, who assured me that it was normal to feel the way I did during various times in my life. Most of all, she told me I was not a hypocrite. She knew, she said, because true hypocrites don’t get upset (like I did) about being hypocrites.

That thought comforted me, and with that I was able to resign myself to the fact that the Spirit was within me, but buried beneath all of the stresses of life.

And those stresses were numerous, going beyond the rat race of juggling a family and work. There were extended family members who needed care. There was graduate school. And the job was one where I was constantly swamped. And to beat all, health problems started to creep into the picture, no doubt because my busy life had adversely impacted my immune system. There were the ruptured discs in my neck in late 2009; then a couple of rounds of the flu in early 2010, followed by a two-month bronchitis-type affliction that I couldn’t shake to save my life. By last summer after surviving a three-week intercession graduate course (in health communication, believe it or not), my primary goal was to regain my health and emotional well-being (as I was completely burned out). Taking up yoga helped some with that. But I admit it never occurred to me to look to God to help me make things better. Being the lukewarm fan of faith that I am, I don’t normally think of God first.

It wasn’t until last August when I decided that I might want to strengthen my relationship with God. (And, of course, like any lukewarm fan, it was because I needed something.) It was last August when my job abruptly went away and I suddenly found myself unemployed. Wow, how scared was I then? Initially, I worried about so many things – supporting my children, keeping a roof over our head and getting another job. I was collecting unemployment benefits, but what would happen if the unemployment runs out and I’m still not employed? Essentially, I freaked out. But as I calmed down and tried to apply some logic to what had happened, I decided everything happens for a reason. God simply had another plan. Could it be I was supposed to spend more time with my children? Do a better job at keeping up with the laundry? Or was I just meant to do something else? It was up to me to just be patient and wait until God revealed His plan to me.  

I also decided that these trying times were meant to be. After all, isn’t that when we truly fall in love with God – when we really need Him? Perhaps God wanted me to fall in love with him again, much like when I was a little girl and would write letters to Him while I sat in my bedroom closet. I remember I would share my deepest feelings with Him and when I signed those letters it wasn’t enough to sign my name. I wanted to make sure He knew who was writing to Him. I would not only sign my name (Lisa), but my planet (Earth), my country (U.S.A.), state, city and neighborhood. You’d think since those letters never left my bedroom closet that He would know they were from me. But I included the rest of the information just in case.

One thing that I really hated about being jobless was when I had to pare back our financial contributions to the church. My husband and I had always considered ourselves “joyful givers.” (This was in spite of being a lukewarm fan of faith.) I hated to pull the plug like that. Particularly painful to me was reneging on a three- year pledge to help fund a major renovation and additional wing to the building. As the three-year period wrapped up last month (when everyone was supposed to have their pledges paid) we were still in the hole, even though we would put a little bit toward the pledge whenever we could. But hey, you can’t draw blood from a turnip, right?

This brings me to a sermon that my pastor preached just a few weeks ago. She talked about how God never promised that we wouldn’t suffer or have bad things happen to us. Instead, God just promises that we don’t have to suffer alone. She also talked about how God is always watching and often uses other people to help us. She cited a time when she was collecting donations one Sunday on behalf of a woman who was about to have her heat turned off because of a delinquent bill. Throughout the day the pastor collected an astounding $1,840. And the next day when a member of the church went with the woman to pay her bill, how much was the bill? Exactly $1,847.

Coincidence or God-incidence? My pastor would say the latter. Since I am the lukewarm fan, I would say it could have been either.

But then the other day something happened that made me wonder if there could be something to these God-incidences. I have this credit card, you see. It’s one that I’ve had for probably 10 years. And it’s one where you earn a few cents here, a few cents there for each purchase you make. I don’t use it much, but normally I put big dollar purchases on it – such as vacation expenses – just for convenience’s sake. A couple of weeks ago I logged on to my rewards account and noticed I could send a written request to be sent a check for the rewards I had earned. Okay, sounds good. I mailed a request. And last week they sent me an email confirming my request and that they would be sending me a check in the mail.

And how much will the check be? My eyes widened when I saw the amount -- $940.96.

It’s money I didn’t know I had – popping out from nowhere. I instantly thought about the pledge that we had fallen short on at the church – the one where we still owed $910. It was as if God was saying to me right then and there, “Okay, you didn’t have the money. Here it is. You know what it’s for.” And knowing God’s sense of humor He probably said, “Oh, here’s an extra $30 so you guys can go get a bite to eat after you pay off your pledge.”

Coincidence? Or God-incidence? This time I lean toward the latter. I think the heat has just gone up a notch beyond my usual lukewarm setting. And yes, I know where that money is going.

For some reason, I see it as a sign that God will continue to be with me and show me the way. I still am not completely sure what my mission is or what real purpose I have on this earth. But I think I’m past the really thick fog. Perhaps I’ve wandered into a little lighter fog– one where I can at least spot some fuzzy outlines on the horizon. What’s the plan, God? I still don’t know. But I can be patient as long as I know there is a plan.

On His time, though. Not mine.

You tell me when, God. And in the meantime, I’ll keep the faith.

Hot for Hot Yoga!

It’s always the Warrior II where I start to fizzle. 

Halfway through the standing series, heart going 100+ beats a minute, and here I am, drenched with sweat in a heated room. Yesterday it was really hot, more than usual. The instructor asked, “Does it feel hotter in here today than usual?” I politely nod but think to myself, “Omigod yes.” I glance at the wall thermometer and it reads 109⁰ Fahrenheit. No wonder I’m dizzy. Of course, it’s not just the heat. By this time, I’ve been through what seems a hundred downward facing dogs and their associated flows, runner’s lunges, eagle poses and the like. (If you’re into yoga, you’ll know what these are. If not, never mind.)



The Warrior II pose appears easy enough. Just stand with your feet apart, one facing straight ahead, the other at a 45 degree angle.  The leg with the foot facing straight should be bent, and the arms should be held up, parallel to the floor. It’s the arms that get me. By that point in the workout, I could very well be holding up 100 pound weights with each of those arms, they feel so heavy. Yesterday was no exception. Fortunately, once the warrior series is over, I seem to start to get my second wind. By this time I’m dripping perspiration, donning sweat beads from my forehead to my ankles. I make sure not to wipe the sweat from my body, as I’m told it is a natural insulator that actually helps to keep the body from overheating. However, the pesky perspiration does manage to make it into my eyes sometimes, so I have to wipe that out.

So why do I put myself through this? Believe it or not, for peace, health and harmony.  It all started last summer, when after finally getting over a two-month bout of bronchitis, I registered for a summer class in my graduate school program. For various reasons I had been unable to take a class during the previous spring semester, so I was looking forward to spending the summer taking my online class, as it was in a subject that interested me: health communication. Just a few days before the class started, I was stunned to learn that it was not the three-month course that had been listed on the university website, but rather an accelerated, three-week intercession class. So I was about to begin a course where I would have to pack three months’ worth of work into three weeks!

I crammed a lot of information about health communication into my head over the next three weeks. Fortunately, I came out of it alive. A lot of the information seemed to go into one side of my head and out the other, as the class entailed absorbing so much information in so little time. But one thing about the class did resonate with me.  Initial readings in the class analyzed the various perspectives on health and what is considered “healthy.”  Generally, the western world considers healthy to be “not sick.” Yet eastern philosophy views health much more holistically. Maintaining health is not merely about fixing body parts that are “broken.” Rather, true health must take into account many different factors affecting the body and the human psyche. Physical, yes, but also mental, social and spiritual peace of mind.

This more holistic view of health made sense to me. And last May, as I was running myself ragged, trying to spend every spare moment on this fast-track class, be a mom and a wife, and also meet deadlines and prepare for the big annual meeting at work, I realized that maybe I wasn’t where I needed to be. If nothing else, I realized that while I might not have been sick at that very moment, I certainly did not consider myself to be healthy. I promised myself that once I was past the chaos of the summer class, I would do something, anything, toward becoming healthier.

I chose yoga because I sought more than just physical benefits. I was seeking something that could help me decrease my stress, calm my spirit, nourish my soul – something that could enhance my efforts to focus and concentrate. A quick search on the computer netted a host of yoga options, but it was the “hot yoga” option that intrigued me. Why, what is that?

Basically, hot yoga (specifically, the particular hot yoga I practice, Moksha Yoga) is power yoga practiced in a 95-105 degree room.  The heat of the room helps to loosen up the joints. And, of course, you sweat. I found a Moksha Yoga studio near my house and, as I had promised myself, I went to my first session the first week in June 2010. Sessions last anywhere from 60-90 minutes. I believe my first session was 75 minutes. The first time I opened the door to the heated room proved to be enough of a shock to the system, as if a sauna had hit me in the face. Admittedly, during that first session, many times I silently screaming to myself, “I’m dying! I’m dying!” Not to mention I was a first-timer in the room with some experienced yogis who had the ability to manipulate their bodies in some pretty serious ways!

I came out of that very first session completely bedraggled. Yet, I felt great! While the poses are physically intensive, they also require focus and concentration. Breathing, above all, is the most important part of the process. So as I came out that first time, feeling that I had just had my butt kicked, I also felt somewhat cleansed. I felt cleansed in a physical sense, as all that sweat had helped to remove toxins from my body (plus I was also drinking lots of water in the process). But I also felt cleansed from within – emotionally and spiritually – as the practice enabled one to release the stress and bring focus back into life. And then there’s the breathing.  One instructor would always say that when your mind gets cluttered and you’re feeling totally overwhelmed, or when a sense of exasperation invades, “Always come back to the breath.”  It is amazing how the answer for achieving calm can be found in the simple act of breathing. Being a nervous person of sorts, I’ve started to incorporate “simple acts of breathing” into my life more often and can indeed feel the impact.

As for me, I’ve kept up with my hot yoga. It seems I can only go so long without a fix. Sometimes I attend frequently, other times more sporadically. How often I go depends on what else I’m doing, how I’m feeling (tend to not go when I’m feeling the winter blues, which is actually the time I need to go most), and whether I can afford it at the time. Nevertheless, after all these months, I’m still very much “hot for yoga,” or “hot for hot yoga,” and anticipate I’ll be practicing it for some time.

Now, if I can just get beyond that Warrior II. . . .