Thealogical Lady: A Blog

Greeting the New Year

1/1/2018

Spiral Goddess. Image Credit: naturalshaman.blogspot.com

This year brings with it changes: some eagerly welcomed, and some simply needed.

There will be several changes for me as I continue along this path of life.

1) Beginning this month, I will no longer be holding Thean Evening Prayer outside my home. This is a loss, as I have loved and learned a great deal from this monthly sacred circle of women. It is a gain of time and energy, both of which are increasingly precious to me. I invite those who have gathered with me for Thean Evening Prayer and any others who wish to develop their own regular, rhythmic prayer practice to pray with the Thean Psalter, which is available as a free PDF or as a print prayer book ($10). This Psalter is written in a feminine voice with feminine pronouns and names for Thea in a feminist thealogical worldview, and is an enriching supplement to other faith traditions as well as a strong, illuminating, standalone form of prayer.

2) The Thea House Church liturgies, which have previously been private gatherings, will be open to all pilgrims with open hearts beginning this March. More details will be announced in the coming weeks.

3) I have found in the last year that I have failed to make adequate room in my life for two of my great joys: walking and writing. I resolve to set aside less vital pursuits to make room for these. To that end, I look forward this year to participating in my third half-marathon and finishing my second novel.

4) I imagine that each of us seeks to be more loving and less resentful. I cling sometimes to resentments and anger when I feel wronged or observe someone else being wronged, but I seek to keep those feelings close only long enough to learn from them and let them go in peace. The longer I journey along this road of mine, the more aware I become that my time is limited, and my desire to love abundantly and beautifully competes with the time I give over to festering anger. I seek to choose love and beauty, and to allow anger to grow into both of those rather than falling stagnant.

May 2018 be rich with joy, love, and hope for all Creation. ♥

Lyrics to live by

10/29/2015

While I was writing my first novel, there was one playlist of five songs that I'd turn to for inspiration when my well of words ran dry. Listening to it the other day, I realized that the tone of this playlist was rather melancholy and longing. As I prepare to write my next novel, a Young Adult novel, I feel the need for something new--a playlist that reflects my current reality.

So far my new playlist has three songs, and I invite you to steep in their empowering lyrics:

1) Brave by Sara Bareilles

You can be amazing
You can turn a phrase into a weapon or a drug
You can be the outcast
Or be the backlash of somebody's lack of love
Or you can start speaking up
Nothing's gonna hurt you the way that words do
When they settle 'neath your skin
Kept on the inside and no sunlight
Sometimes a shadow wins
But I wonder what would happen if you

Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave
Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave

2) Touch the Sky by Julie Fowlis (from Disney*Pixar's Brave)

Where dark woods hide secrets
And mountains are fierce and bold
Deep waters hold reflections
Of times lost long ago

I will hear their every story
Take hold of my own dream
Be as strong as the seas are stormy
And proud as an eagle's scream

I will ride, I will fly
Chase the wind and touch the sky
I will ride, I will fly
Chase the wind and touch the sky

3) Happy by Pharrell Williams

Here come bad news talking this and that, yeah,
Well, give me all you got, and don't hold it back, yeah,
Well, I should probably warn you I'll be just fine, yeah,
No offense to you, don't waste your time
Here's why

Because I'm happy
Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof
Because I'm happy
Clap along if you feel like happiness is the truth
Because I'm happy
Clap along if you know what happiness is to you
Because I'm happy
Clap along if you feel like that's what you wanna do

What songs would you add to this list?

ETA:

4) Happy Feet by Cab Calloway

Happy feet! I've got those hap-hap-happy feet!
Give them a low-down beat
And they begin dancing!
I've got those ten little tip-tap-tapping toes,
When they hear a tune
I can't control the dancing, dear,
To save my soul!
Those weary blues can't get into my shoes,
Because my shoes refuse
To ever grow weary.
I keep cheerful on an earful
Of music sweet;
Just got those hap-hap-happy feet!

5) Feeling Good by Nina Simone (sung by Michael Bublé)

Birds flying high
You know how I feel
Sun in the sky
You know how I feel
Breeze driftin' on by
You know how I feel
It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
For me
And I'm feeling good
I'm feeling good

Fish in the sea
You know how I feel
River running free
You know how I feel
Blossom on a tree
You know how I feel
It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
For me
And I'm feeling good

Women Seeding Change

9/23/2015

Image by Catrin Welz-Stein, http://catrinwelzstein.blogspot.com/

For the love of a tree,
she went out on a limb.
For the love of the sea,
she rocked the boat.
For the love of the earth,
she dug deeper.
For the love of community,
she mended fences.
For the love of the stars,
she let her light shine.
For the love of spirit,
she nurtured her soul.
For the love of a good time,
she sowed seeds of happiness.
For the love of the Goddess,
she drew down the moon.
For the love of nature,
she made compost.
For the love of a good meal,
she gave thanks.
For the love of family,
she reconciled differences.
For the love of creativity,
she entertained new possibilities.
For the love of her enemies,
she suspended judgment.
For the love of herself,
she acknowledged her worth.
And the world was richer for her.
~Charlotte Tall Mountain

TreeSisters is a movement of women seeking to reforest the tropics in ten years. I found the above poem on their Facebook page. Their crowdfunding campaign to fund the reforesting may be found at www.GrowTreeSisters.com. For as little as $22, they'll plant a tree in your name. I invite you to take a look and consider donating to this green and lovely cause.

Sacred Rebels

9/15/2015

A good friend of mine, a fellow writer, introduced me to the Sacred Rebels Oracle, which is a deck of cards akin to a Tarot deck. It includes forty-four cards and a 180-page guidebook with descriptions of each card, and it's designed specifically for creative types (and even more particularly for women).

I looked through the deck for the first time today, and the cards swept me away not only with their images, but their themes. The tenth card particularly stood out to me as I contemplated my next creative project, which is to write a gospel according to Kate.

I thought immediately of Luke 14:26 as I looked at this card: "If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters...such a person cannot be my disciple." When I think of my own allegiances, I think of my long-time devotion to the Roman Catholic Church, and then to the Episcopal Church, and especially the Benedictine Canons (a Benedictine, Episcopalian religious order for men and women in which I was a novice for nine months). It was to my great surprise that I had to let go of my allegiances to my former Christian communities in order to turn my focus entirely to Thea.

As I break down the doors of the early medieval canon of Christian scripture by writing my own gospel, this oracle card resonates with me profoundly. By writing a gospel of my own, I am turning inward, where the light of Thea burns brightly.

I'm excited to write this gospel, to reimagine religious narratives as a Thean narrative, and to use this gospel in my house church liturgy when it is finished. My daughters will grow up hearing and learning from a truly feminist gospel, and in that, I know that my work and call as a house church priest will not be for nothing.

Music

8/8/2015

When I listen to Katy Perry's "E.T." (which, for the record, is a lousy and even offensive song lyrically speaking), I'm transported back to 2012. I had just had my first book crowdfunded, and I was getting started on my book manuscript. I was writing every day, and what's more, I was writing about writing with writer friends--while listening to not-very-deep but catchy music.

One of my writer friends from back then commented on a post I made today. I noted that I'd reached 55,000 words in my novel manuscript, and he wrote, "Look at you go. Keep kickin' butt lady."

And you know what? That little bit of encouragement snapped me out of a mental loop. I've had my eyes habitually fixed on the past when my eyes could have been focused on the future. Now my eyes are on the future. It's bright, promising, and rich. And I'm creating it, one word at a time.

When I hear Katy Perry, I hear myself dancing into the future with wild, fertile hopes and dreams. I like what I hear.

The future sounds better and better all the time.

New Release: Lifeblood

5/7/2015

I'm happy to announce the publication of my second book, Lifeblood. It's a chapbook containing four stories about blood cancer and its implications for life and death. All proceeds from this book benefit the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.

Please consider adding a copy to your bookshelf. You can order a signed copy directly through me--just send me a message!

117

4/27/2015

Thea,
if you will it, grant me the grace to write in such a way
that hearts stir and break free of their bonds at my words.
Amen.

109

4/19/2015

Thea,
for three weeks I've swum the choppy waters of writing,
and several times I've nearly drowned.
Each time, my endurance has emerged as victor.
Grant me the inspiration to continue this swim to the end,
even though my muscles are fatigued and I yearn to rest.
Amen.

107

4/17/2015

Thea,
as I write the narrative of my life,
help me to leave everything in,
so I can behold myself in every facet.
Amen.

90

3/31/2015

Thea,
over the next thirty days I will devote myself to my writing
as an homage to you, O Holy Muse.
May my words uplift and challenge and expand;
may they be worthy of you.
Amen.

88

3/29/2015

Thea,
chisel me to a sharp point
that I might break through the walls that block me.
Amen.

86

3/27/2015

Thea,
shower my words during the dry spells
so they rise up plump and fresh,
a bright array cloaked in springing green leaves.
Amen.

36

2/5/2015

Thea,
when I have had the courage to begin,
you have always granted me the gift of words.
Encourage me; embolden me;
show me the first step into the world I have not yet made.
Amen.

31

1/31/2015

Thea,
you write dreams
as holy icons,
sacred meeting
between me and you.
Wander through the valleys
of my dreamscape this night
and I will meet you face to
veiled face.
Amen.

House Church

1/8/2015

For over fifty days now, I've written at least 750 words on 750words.com, a site that's designed to facilitate Julia Cameron's popular exercise of "morning pages." Each day, I can receive statistics on what I've written. It will tell me what sort of mood prevails in my words, and it will also tell me what subject is most prominent. Every time I've checked in the last few weeks, the stats tell me that I'm feeling mostly affectionate and mostly concerned about religion.

That's telling, because before a few weeks ago, I was mostly concerned about religion, but I was almost never listed as affectionate. Of the five categories of feeling listed in 750words.com's stats--affectionate, self-important, self-expressive, upset, and happy--I was very often analyzed to be upset.

What has changed in the last few weeks to bring about the transformation of a many-years-long trend?

One piece of it is that I've let go of my expectations about how I'm supposed to fit in to religious communities. I no longer seek to fit in anywhere (which is a strange thing for a liturgist to say). Ever since realizing that I'm an Enneagram four-type, not a three-type, I've taken a deep and intentional turn inward, and I've found myself at home.

I haven't been part of a church community for several months (for a number of important and difficult reasons), but I've wanted liturgy in my life. Lacking a community in which to safely or happily participate, a mustard seed of an idea has taken root in my heart. Why not engage in liturgy at home, as the earliest Christians did? Why not take my priestly skillset and become presbyter of my own household? I don't mean seeking formal ordination or jumping through ecclesial hoops--I mean taking the exceptional liturgical knowledge and presiding skills I have and celebrating the great thanksgiving with my own small children.

But you don't have permission to do that! cries my critic.

But I don't need permission to do that, I say back.

Perhaps to be a Christian feminist in the twenty-first century is as simple as saying that I no longer seek permission from patriarchal authorities to do what I'm called to do.

Can I hear an amen?

Spirit Whispers: Writing as Ministry

11/21/2014

A couple of weeks ago I realized that four (rather than three) is my Enneagram type. Since that revelation, I've allowed myself to focus on my creative work for at least an hour or two every day, and it has made a tremendous difference in my disposition. Instead of focusing my attention on tasks that primarily benefit others, I'm drawing out what's inside myself for its own sake, and it's breathtaking. It's art. It's me.

I've decided to resurrect my Master's thesis. I was having trouble with it because my approach to it was so academic and sharp. I realized that the way to salvage it was to transform it into a pastoral resource. I told some friends that some of my favorite liturgical writing resembles excellent preaching, and the trouble with my thesis is that it resembles very poor preaching. If I transform it into good preaching, it will be a good book. A publishable book. A useful book. A beautiful book. I've discovered that my writing is my art and my ministry to the world.

Now that I'm focusing inward instead of outward, I feel totally alive. And I love feeling alive again.

Thea is working hard on my heart. I'm grateful for the fruits that have come out of these last difficult months.

Spirit Whispers: NaNoWriMo

10/25/2014

This is it. This is the year I'm going to write my first novel, and I'm going to begin from word one on November 1 in the annual NaNoWriMo event.

To write fifty thousand words in thirty days is no small task. Will I master this challenge? Will I be able to endure dry, uninspired, hopeless days and write 1,667 words anyway? Will I throw in the towel as I have so many NaNoWriMo's before?

I want this for myself. I want it because the writer in me has longed to be set free, to shine. I want it because my call to write has been so resoundingly clear for so long. It's time that I fully embrace that call.

Spirit Whispers: Dark Night

10/20/2014

This morning my spiritual director sent me Richard Rohr's daily meditation e-mail. He wrote of John of the Cross' dark night of the soul:

You can’t go forward by “knowing” in the usual way, but only by experiencing. At some time in your life, I hope you are so ambushed by God, that God catches you by surprise. If you try to go by what you already know—John of the Cross makes it clear—you will pull God back into your pre-existent categories, and you won’t get very far. That is why most people stay with their childish faith.

When God leads you into a dark night, it is to deepen and mature your faith—which, by its very definition, “is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” (Hebrews 11:1) The gift of darkness draws you to know God’s presence beyond what thought, imagination, or sensory feeling can comprehend. During the dark night the tried-and-true rituals and creeds of religion no longer satisfy or bring assurances of God’s love. (So you might get bored with church services for very good reasons too, but that is not the same as mere spiritual laziness or a lack of faith.)

God is calling you into deeper and closer intimacy, beyond anything you could achieve with your most sincere attempts, closer than you could even dream. But you must learn to proceed without any guarantees from your feelings or your intellect. That’s the only real way to grow in faith and divine love.

I wonder if that dark night isn't where my soul has made its nest over the last three months. For a long time--years and years--I have sought my life's value outside of myself. And I wonder if it hasn't been within me all along, in that deep place within which God's fiery life flickers.

I wonder now if I would find comfort in this dark night by writing not to or for or about others, but simply to God, my life's source. In intimate communication with God, could there be any doubt of my value? What would I discover?

Perhaps I, the expert in liturgical prayer, have been praying in the wrong way, with the wrong words. Perhaps my own words were the ones God beckoned from me. It is one thing to pray the psalms, and another to pray the psalms of one's heart. Is one thing to read God's word, and another to enflesh it.

Maybe what God is bringing to birth in me is not what I can do for others, but the birth of God's name for me: "Beloved."

Heartbeats: Voices Against Oppression

6/3/2014

I am honored to announce that Heartbeats: Voices Against Oppression is now available for purchase. All profits made from this book will go to Not For Sale, an anti-human-trafficking organization that seeks to root out, stop, and prevent modern slavery.

This anthology of short stories is the fruit of an idea I had when I first heard about the mass kidnapping of over two hundred Nigerian schoolgirls in April 2014. I knew with a sinking heart that I lacked the means to go find and save those girls myself--but I could take one of my great gifts, writing, and transform it into a means to empower others (who are better-equipped than I am) to find and save them.

Kristen Duvall of Fey Publishing and Jax Goss of Solarwyrm Press helped me make this anthology a reality. The cover art of Luke Spooner and the provocative tales of many talented writers make this book a worthy addition to anyone's bookshelf. Each person who participated in this project did so for free so that all profits could go directly to Not for Sale.

Most of the girls who were kidnapped in April 2014 are still missing. I invite you to be part of the effort to #bringbackourgirls by purchasing a copy of Heartbeats: Voices Against Oppression so that the folks from Not For Sale can help free them and all who are enslaved in our world today.

Buy the paperback here.

Buy the Kindle version here.

Spread the word by adding the book to your bookshelf on Goodreads here.

Thank you, from the bottom of my beating heart.

Easter: Day 39

5/28/2014

I don't normally do evening posts, but I'm not normally blogging on vacation, either. Consider this an extraordinary post, in any sense of "extraordinary" that you wish.

Recently I picked up an old journal of mine--one that I finished just before I met my husband. It's a journal that represents one of the most tumultuous periods of my life.

As I reflect on the contents of that journal and the period it represents, the power of my own words takes my breath away. My life then, which could so easily be hidden or forgotten now, is recorded by my own hand. Because I took time to speak the words of my heart in those many pages, my experience from that time is memorialized forever.

I remember a homily that a Benedictine priest gave once that began, "Words, words, words!"

"I'm so sick of words!" Eliza Doolittle declared.

Occasionally I wonder if others tire of my words, but tiring though they may be, I write them. And I write them. And I write more of them. Because in my words dwell the power of the Spirit. I am Spirit's instrument when I do this very thing, tap-tap-tapping at my computer or huddling over a journal with one of my precious pens.

When I am alone, when I am fearful, when I am angry, when I am frustrated, or when I am elated, when I am ecstatic, when I am grateful, when I am joyful: I write. Writing is the meeting place between my voice and God's, and if I were ever asked to stop--well, I wouldn't stop, regardless of the cost. I cannot be other than the person I am called by God to be. And I am called to be a writer, among many other things.

As I discern the fullness of my vocation, especially with regard to the possibility of becoming a Benedictine Episcopal priest, I reflect on my writing vocation. How was it planted? How was it nurtured? What was it like when I turned from it? When did I figure out that writing was not just a thing I sometimes did, but rather an identity-creating activity without which I cannot be wholly myself?