103: Repeat Yourself

I know I’ve already mentioned it a time or two here on the podcast, but each May toward the end of the month, my family gathers together on the gulf coast of Florida for several days. It’s always a good time. But over the past few years, I’ve found a new favorite part of this annual tradition: watching my niece and nephew as they learn to love the beach. As you might imagine, at ages nearly 5 and 3, there is so much to discover.

And during our most recent get together, just a few months ago, I witnessed my niece Chloe make quite the discovery. It was our first day out on the beach, and she was very excited to get in the water with her floaties. So, after making sure said floaties were buckled and securely fastened, we all made our way toward the water. She insisted on being held and carried above the crashing waves, but once we moved beyond them and reached calmer waters, she was ready to be let loose.

So my sister let her down into the water and stepped away. After a few seconds, with a huge grin on her face, but also a bit of hesitation in her tone, Chloe softly shared her observation: “Whoa…it’s so wobbly!”

Up until that point, the large majority of her time in water was spent in a calm and contained pool. And the few times she’d ventured into the ocean, she was held by strong arms. At 2 1/2, this was the first time she really experienced the wobble of the waves. And her noticing stuck with me.

It’s so wobbly. A perfect description, really. The push and pull of the waves. The ebb and flow of the tide. But also the ups and downs of a life.

The truth is, most of the time, our life experience isn’t all storms and crashing waves. But it also isn’t all calm, still, peaceful water. Life is usually somewhere in between the extremes. And there’s almost always a wobble to it.

Joy and sorrow.

Longing and fulfillment.

Abundance and lack.

Courage and fear.

Worry and trust.

That wobble is so often our reality. It’s certainly been mine recently. And it has the potential to be pretty disorienting, leaving us unsteady, uncertain, unsure. Sound familiar?

Of course, this isn’t the first time I’ve mentioned this here on the podcast. The unsteady and uncertain wobble of life has come up multiple times. I think of remind{h}er 88: Practice, remind{h}ers 75 + 76: Hold On to Who You Are, remind{h}er 63: The Lord Is Your Shepherd, remind{h}er 33: God Goes Before You, just to name a few. Needless to say, if you’ve been listening for awhile now, this might seem a bit repetitive. But that’s part of why I bring it up again. I’m learning there is power in repetition.

Now, I’m also very aware of the ways repetition can be less than ideal. Having to repeat yourself because someone isn’t listening is frustrating. Listening to someone say the same thing over and over again has the potential to drive us mad. And it’s true that repetition can easily make something feel boring, redundant or meaningless. But in the context of our spiritual lives, I’m finding that repeating ourselves can be a formative practice that is steadying, grounding, comforting.

It’s interesting to think of those wobbly waves. Because while they can certainly make us feel unstable or a bit shaky, that same ebb and flow is also rhythmic. Familiar. Maybe even a bit predictable. Just listening to the waves can feel like a comforting deep breath. Because there’s a pattern to it, and that repetition unveils a sort of steadiness even in the midst of the wobble. It’s true of the waves and it can be true in our lives.

Of course, ritual and repetition as spiritual practice is not new. As people of faith, it’s been a part of our story for quite some time. We actually see familiar themes, messaging, and patterns all throughout scripture. In many ways, scripture often repeats itself, and when it does, it’s usually something worth paying attention to. For instance, I think of the repetition we find in Psalm 136.

All throughout the psalm, we hear the same repeated refrain:

“…for his steadfast love endures forever.”

In all 26 verses of the psalm, that one line is repeated 27 times. Basically, the structure goes like this. Read one line, and then that refrain pops up. Read the next line, and the refrain pops up again. All throughout the psalm. Over and over and over again. Without the refrain, the psalmist is writing of God as creator and provider, telling the story of God rescuing the Israelites out of the hands of the Egyptians and leading them through the wilderness to the promised land.

We know that their experience here was not smooth sailing. The ups and downs of their story are shaky, for sure. And yet, the psalm’s repeated refrain acts as an anchor of sorts. A centering. A steadying. A reminder. That even in the wobble of the wilderness, God’s steadfast love endures.

Now obviously, this particular refrain, this particular repetition, is an art form—part of the structure of a psalm. But I think repetition can also provide a similar steadying in our lives. Because repeating something helps us recall it. We absorb what we repeat. In many ways, repetition influences who we become. And for me, that means it matters. So what role might repetition play as we seek to become the people God calls and invites us to be?

Maybe you choose a phrase or a passage or a prayer that you recite throughout the day—not as a trivial platitude or an empty affirmation, but as a reminder of what’s true.

Maybe there is a simple physical practice you can incorporate into your daily, weekly, or monthly schedule that reminds you of your connection with God.

Maybe there is a song you play on repeat or at specific times each day that helps you refocus on what matters most.

Maybe there is a place you visit that feels like holy ground and helps you notice the movement of God, in your life and in the world around you.

Or maybe there’s a person or a group you regularly meet with, and being in their presence helps you remember God’s presence.

The truth is, some things are worth repeating, especially as they contribute to our becoming. As James K.A. Smith reminds us, “There is no formation without repetition.” As we grow and change and become, what we repeat might also evolve. But that intentional repetition will always matter. Some things are worth repeating. The key is discerning what those things are—the lived-out refrains that help us hold steady.

So today, if life feels a bit wobbly, remember to repeat yourself. As often as you need. May repetition as spiritual practice make clear to us the steadfast love of God and may it continually shape us into the people God calls and invites us to be.