124: Welcome What Is

I have a love-hate relationship with my hair. I know this is a podcast, so if you only know my voice and you’ve never seen my face—well, I have naturally curly hair and it’s a whole thing. Over the years, I’ve come to accept this physical trait of mine and maybe even appreciate it, especially now that I know how to care for my curly hair. But this was not always the case. Especially in middle school.

As you might imagine, in middle school, I was as awkward as they come. Tall {for my age} and lanky, acne-prone, a full set of braces, and curly hair that I tried to straighten even though the modern-day straightener or flat iron was not yet a thing. Or at least a thing most people could afford. As an aside, we’ve come such a long way in the world of accessible haircare tools and products—thanks be to God.

Anyway, try as I might, I could never quite tame the mane, especially in Florida humidity. So most days, all the curls ended up in a ponytail. But dear listener, even that was not a surefire solution. It never took long before the many baby hairs around my face would pop out in full-blown, fluffy curls running all along my hairline. Many peers affectionately called these curls my “clouds,” which then lead to the running joke: “Julianne’s head is always in the clouds.” Good one, right?

I actually kind of loved it because many, many times, it was actually pretty true. While I was definitely careful and responsible, I was also prone to daydreams, illusions, if-only’s. It never took long for me to abandon reality and step into what I wished were true. To this day, not much has changed. Including the cloud of curls, by the way.

The reality is, many of us prefer to have our head in the clouds without our feet on the ground. Because we know that acknowledging and accepting our actual, lived-in lives and experience, is often much easier said than done. It’s like our if-only’s become our what-should-be’s—how we should feel, what we should do, the type of response we should have—and when our reality doesn’t match that ideal, well, we turn to filters and facades, forcing ourselves into molds that don’t actually fit. And living that way is exhausting. Perhaps you know the feeling?

One of the greatest gifts I have received through the work and ministry of spiritual direction is compassionate permission to welcome what is and not what I think should be. To honor the full spectrum of my experience, whether I like it or not. Whether I hope it will change or not. Through learning to welcome what is, I’m also learning to trust that, as Dr. Larry Crabb believed, “God meets [me] where [I am], not where [I] pretend to be.”

In his book, Soulful Spirituality, David Benner references a Rumi poem called The Guest House. I won’t read it for you now {though I will link to it in the show notes], but essentially, the premise of the poem is that our human experience is like a guest house, and the invitation for us is to welcome all who show up at the door. In response to the poem, Benner writes,

“…in order to find God in the realities of our life we must accept those realities. We cannot be selective in this process, holding only those parts of experience that we feel ready to accept. We must welcome all the visitors that come to the guesthouse that is our self. Doing so will give us depth and substance that we will always lack when we live in a place of pretense, under the illusion of being in control over who gets access to our house and who does not. The only choice we have is whether we receive the guests with welcome or not. To fail to do so does not drive unwelcome guests away; it merely keeps us from embracing the reality that is our life.”

And that reality is, all throughout our lives, we will experience the ebb and flow of anxiety, hope, frustration, excitement, worry, peace, indifference, gratitude, tears, laughter, exhaustion, relief, anger, grief, jealousy, joy, discouragement, inspiration, fear, disappointment, comfort, shame, and plenty of occasions for celebration. At one point or another, big or small, important or seemingly trivial, each will show up at our door, sometimes mingling with others, waiting to be welcomed in.

Now it feels important to say that welcoming does not mean wallowing. And welcoming doesn’t necessarily mean offering an extended or indefinite stay. Ultimately, in the context of our faith, a practice of welcome means a practice of being honest before God, trusting that God is present and at work in our actual experience, and that through such a welcome, God can and will engage the sacred work of transformation.

As David Benner shares in one of his other books, The Gift of Being Yourself {yes, clearly I am a big fan of David Benner’s work!},

“Reality must be embraced before it can be changed. Our knowing of ourselves will remain superficial until we are willing to accept ourselves as God accepts us—fully and unconditionally, just as we are.”

This kind of welcome is part of learning to walk in step with the Spirit, with our feet on the ground, remembering that God values and welcomes our honesty and our willingness to name what is true, even if what’s true isn’t ideal. Just as we are. Just as we’ve been. Once we welcome and embrace what is, we can then let it go, hand it to God, and continue on in hope for who we might one day become.

So what might this actually look like? Well,

What reality do you need to embrace?

What are you experiencing, thinking, feeling?

What or who is bothering you?

What do you actually want?

How is it with your soul in this very moment?

Today, may we remember to welcome what is. As Father Thomas Keating offers in his prayer, The Welcoming Prayer:

Welcome, welcome, welcome.

I welcome everything that comes to me today, because I know it's for my healing.

I welcome all thoughts, feelings, emotions, persons, situations, and conditions.

I let go of my desire for power and control.

I let go of my desire for affection, esteem, approval, and pleasure.

I let go of my desire for survival and security.

I let go of my desire to change any situation, condition, person or myself.

I open to the love and presence of God and God's action within.

[May it be so]. Amen.