Michelle DeRusha

Every Day Faith. Faith Every Day.

Michelle

Practicing Presence: Preparing Your Heart, Mind & Soul for the Holidays {a free audio series!}

By 4 Comments

I know! I totally get it…who in the world wants to think about the holidays in October? Egad!

I hear you, I really do. But hear me out for a minute…

I’m the first to admit straight up that I always dread the holiday season. I mean really, is life not busy enough during “ordinary time?” And then we go and add baking, decorating, card-writing, shopping, wrapping, Elf on the Shelfing and socializing to the mix. It just about does me in every year.

Typically, by the time Christmas Day rolls around, I’ve inevitably missed the entire point of the season. I’m not present to my family, my own self or God. Frankly, most years, I’m not present to anything but my own exhaustion, irritability and resentment. Merry Crabby Christmas, right?

If this cycle sounds even a little bit familiar to you, I’d like to suggest we try a different way this year.

In the process of researching and writing True You, I learned a little bit about how the brain works, and what I discovered is that it takes time, intention and practice to begin to change the patterns we’ve established up there inside our noggins over years and years.

The fact is, if we really want to change who we are during the holidays, we need to start practicing now, in the relative quiet of autumn, before the chaos of the holiday season descends. We need to start creating new neural pathways in our brains to replace the ones that have held us hostage during the holidays for almost as long as we can remember.

The key is, we start practicing presence now. We start practicing peace now. We start choosing less over more, smaller over bigger, quality over quantity, quiet over loud. We begin practicing the spiritual discipline of presence now, in the relative quiet of mid-fall, so that our hearts, minds and souls are prepared when the hustle of the holidays descends in a flurry in a few short weeks.

Practicing Presence: Preparing Your Heart, Mind & Soul for the Holidays is a five-part audio series in which I invite you to begin practicing presence with me. It’s my hope that through this series, we will begin to learn how to be present in this moment, in this day, and in this season. It’s my hope that rather than living with our hearts, minds and souls fixed on what’s next, together we will begin to learn how to practice choosing what’s already here, right now.

If this sounds like something you might be interested in, you can sign up by clicking the blue button below. The first episode in the five-part series will arrive in your inbox on Sunday, October 28, and subsequent episodes will arrive on each of the following four Sundays, which will bring us to the very start of Advent.

Sign Up for the Practicing Presence Audio Series

I’m excited about this series, not just because I am proud and a little bit shocked to have pulled it off (audio is very much a new venture for me!), but because I really do think you will love it and benefit from it. It was a delight to create, and I pray that you receive it as my heartfelt gift to you.

Let’s walk together toward less harried and hustle and more presence and peace this holiday season.

::

I would be so grateful if you would consider sharing this post with your people, either on social media or, if you have someone particular in mind who you think would benefit, via personal email. I know there must be others out there like me who struggle for presence and peace during the busyness of the holidays, and I would love for them to try this series and experiment with practicing presence this fall as we make our way toward Thanksgiving and Christmas. Thank you, thank you, thank you! xoxo – Michelle

Community as a Courageous Act of Peace {and a book giveaway}

By 23 Comments

Truly, I have never seen so much food at a single meal. Not on my mother-in-law’s Thanksgiving table. Not even at my Aunt Maureen’s annual Easter smorgasbord. The feast was epic.

A few weeks ago our friend Azzat mentioned that he and Afia wanted to host “a feast,” as the Yezidis say, as a way to thank all the people who had pitched in to set up their apartment before they arrived in Lincoln as refugees nearly two years ago.

“Invite everyone,” Azzat declared. He and Afia also insisted that no one bring a thing – not a bottle of wine or a liter of soda, not a bag of chips or a plate of brownies. “We want to do everything,” he said.

Sixteen of us squeezed into our friends’ townhouse living room on Sunday afternoon. We sat on the floor, our legs pulled in close so as to keep our socked feet clear of the plastic tablecloth that had been spread out on the carpet. Dish after dish was placed on the tablecloth: five roasted chickens, several huge tin foil pans of biryani and couscousi, 16 bowls of soup, 16 bowls of salad and a stack of naan so thick it could have doubled as an extra chair in a pinch.

We passed dishes back and forth, heaping spoonfuls of savory food high on one another’s plates, tearing pieces of soft naan, handing bowls around and across the makeshift table. I swear we ate for an hour and a half straight, and all the while, as friends new and old laughed and passed more plates, I couldn’t stop smiling. The photo my friend Kristen snapped with her iPhone captures my glee. In the picture, I’m grinning ear to ear like a fool, literally clapping my hands in sheer delight.

Our friends’ journey to Lincoln has been far from perfect. They wouldn’t have chosen it if they’d had any choice at all — that I know for sure. They left their beloved homeland, their culture, virtually all their possessions and most of their dearest friends and family to begin a new life free from the threat of ISIS, yet missing so many precious pieces of home. They have lived, and still live, daily heartbreak. They have lived, and still live, daily struggle.

And yet, in spite of incomprehensible hardship and loss, time and time again they give wholly of themselves and their resources to us. They don’t even think twice. They invite us and these friends of ours, strangers to them, into their own living room, they spread a table for us and lay out a feast and they lavish all of us with hospitality, generosity, warmth and love. They pour us the best wine, they cook for five hours to create all their best dishes (intentionally making extra so they can send every single one of their guests home with a plate of leftovers), they serve us, smiling and brushing off our praise like it’s all so no big deal.

But it is a big deal. As author Shannan Martin would say, this hospitality, this intentional walk toward, rather than away from another, is a very big deal.

“Offering ourselves as a kind-hearted presence in a world that has forgotten the meaning of community is a courageous act of peace,” writes Shannan in her beautiful book, The Ministry of Ordinary Places.

I love that, and I think that’s exactly why this beautiful family continues to astonish me. The ones considered outsiders and “other” by so many, the ones who arrived here from halfway around the world, the ones who have little compared to most of us, continuously offer their whole selves to us, welcoming us, embracing us and reminding us of what true community looks like.

Their kind-hearted presence in our lives and their generosity and investment in us is truly a courageous act of peace….and of love.

::

I can’t think of a better book to give away with this post about community than Shannan Martin’s new release, The Ministry of Ordinary Places. If you don’t know Shannan, get thee to her website, pronto. She is of of my favorite writers, hands-down. I loved her first book, Falling Free, so much, I wrote about it in my own upcoming book. And I think The Ministry of Ordinary Places is even better! This book will make you laugh out loud and it will bring tears to your eyes, almost within the same paragraph. AND it will convict you in all the best ways about the power, beauty and gift of living with our ordinary neighbors in our ordinary places.

To be eligible for the drawing, please leave a comment telling us about one small thing a neighbor or friend did for you that made all the difference. I will draw one name at random on Monday, October 15 and will notify the winner by email.

How to Find the True Rest Your Soul Needs {and a book giveaway!}

By 35 Comments

Jennifer Dukes Lee is a stellar writer, and I have been grateful for each of her books and the wise, insightful, funny, real guidance and truth she offers. Her newest book, It’s All Under Control, releases today, and friends, this one resonated deeply with me because, well, I’m Triple Type A, right? I love me some control! Jennifer writes friend to friend, and her insights strike a solid note because they are gleaned from an authentic place of personal experience.

I’m thrilled to welcome Jennifer Dukes Lee to the blog today. AND I have a free copy of her beautiful new book to give away. Details on how to enter the drawing are at the end of the post.

Guest Post by Jennifer Dukes Lee

I know how this noisy world can get in the way of me hearing God’s still, small voice. So, in the past few years, I’ve been intentional about quieting the outer noise in my life.

My biggest challenge is silencing the inner chatter.

I know the value of resting in Jesus, but it’s like my brain won’t stop moving in fifteen different directions. Corralling my thoughts is like herding a nursery full of fork-toting toddlers who just learned how to walk and are weeble-wobbling their way toward electrical outlets on opposite sides of the room.

Take, for instance, one of the places where I go to escape the noise: my bathtub. I’ll toss a bath bomb in the water and sink into the warmth. There’s no TV. No iPhone. Yet even here, my mind is running on high gear. I often receive some of my best writing inspiration in the bathtub, which is why my friend Cheri gave me a set of child’s bathtub crayons. (Yes, part of my latest book, It’s All Under Control, was written on the walls of my tub.) So while it might look like I am resting, I’m actually still working.

God is reminding me that my brain needs rest as much as my body does. I loosen my mind by simply dwelling with him: “Abide in me, and I in you” (John 15:4).

If I have a lot of noise around me—even in the form of the silent iPhone scroll—I can’t hear God.

My friend Lindsay Sterchi, mom of twin toddlers, learned the hard way what happens when she doesn’t get the rest she needs. She told me, “Without rest, I’m not very fun to be around— just ask my kids and husband. I get irritable way too quickly. I lose perspective on the bigger picture of life, and the little things seem bigger than they really are. I get in this fog where I’m going through the motions of life but not really living intentionally.”

The answer for her: finding rest in small pockets of time each day. “Rest means that when the kids nap, or after they’ve gone to bed, I’m not going to zone out on TV or scroll through social media, which might seem restful but ends up being draining.” Instead, she does something that feels life-giving—without feeling guilty. Her escapes: reading a book, journaling, or simply being still, alone with God and her thoughts.

Maybe your escape is Netflix, and if that’s the case, you do you. But make sure it gives you life instead of draining your energy.

No matter what: make rest a priority. It’s vital.

Resting in God serves two purposes: First, rest allows you to intentionally connect with God. God wants to meet with you, not simply to give you the day’s marching orders. He wants to be with you because he likes you.

Second, rest calms the noise around you so you can hear God’s clear direction.

Here are a few ideas to incorporate more rest into your life.

Instead of scrolling, go strolling. Everybody has time for rest. How can I be so sure? Because that’s the time we use to check social media. Put down your iPhone for the fifteen minutes you would’ve spent on Instagram and take a walk instead.

Don’t let your “yes” encroach on your rest. If you say yes to something new, evaluate everything else on your list to see what might have to go. Refuse to put rest on the altar of sacrifice.

Let your work assignments flow from soul realignments. If “everybody is looking for us,” our souls and agendas need realignment so we can hear clear directions from God.

Protect the freed-up time you have already created. God prunes all of us, but achievers try to immediately fill those pruned spaces. Protect the space that God created for you. Downtime is okay; in fact, it will make you more productive in the work you were designed to do.

Adapted from It’s All under Control: A Journey of Letting Go, Hanging On, and Finding a Peace You Almost Forgot Was Possible, by Jennifer Dukes Lee, releasing today from Tyndale House Publishers.

: :

Jennifer Dukes Lee is the wife of an Iowa farmer, mom to two girls, and an author. She loves queso and singing too loudly to songs with great harmony. Once upon a time, she didn’t believe in Jesus. Now, He’s her CEO. Jennifer’s newest book, It’s All Under Control, and a companion Bible study, are releasing today! This is a book for every woman who is hanging on tight and trying to get each day right―yet finding that life often feels out of control and chaotic.

I have an extra copy of Jennifer’s lovely new book It’s All Under Control that I would love to mail to one lucky recipient (continental U.S. only).

To enter the drawing, just leave a comment below telling me your favorite way to rest your mind, body and soul. I’ll randomly draw one name at 8 p.m. CT on Friday, September 21 (winner will be notified by email). 

 

How Doxology Can Change Everything

By 11 Comments

Recently I talked to a friend who was having a hard day. It was nothing catastrophic; simply that the mounting demands of her work had taken their toll, and anxiety had gotten the best of her, leaving her feeling overwhelmed and stressed.

My advice to her was twofold. One: get outside; and two: practice doxology.

A few years ago I learned about a Japanese practice called shinrin-yoku, which roughly translates as “forest-bathing.” In Japan, whole forests are set apart for the sole purpose of inviting visitors to be present to the sights, sounds and scents of nature.

Studies show that spending even a few minutes outside each day in any kind of natural space – forested or otherwise — can have a profound impact on our physical health by lowering blood pressure, decreasing cortisol levels and increasing immune function.

But I’ve also found that “forest bathing” – or what we Nebraskans might more accurately call “plains bathing” – can also have a dramatic effect on our spiritual life and the state of our souls, especially when combined with doxology.

Earlier this summer I attended a women’s supper at a local Lutheran church, and at the close of the event, the host suggested we all sing the doxology together before going our separate ways.

“Huh? The what-ology?” I thought to myself, as the women around me began to sing:

“Praise God from whom all blessings flow. Praise him all creatures here below. Praise him above ye heavenly host. Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost.”

After fake lip-syncing my way through the unfamiliar hymn that evening, I later learned that the word “doxology” comes from the Greek doxa, translated as “glory,” and logia, translated as “saying.” There are a number of different iterations, but in short, doxology is a fancy word for the simple practice of giving praise.

Since learning about the doxology, I now often sing it quietly to myself while I walk my dog (lucky for me, Josie makes sure I get my daily shinrin-yoku in). As we meander along the path, I notice and give thanks to God for the vibrant black-eyed Susans dotting the meadow, for the melodious call of the Oriole hidden amid the oak leaves, for the sleek fox I spot darting into the underbrush across the ravine.

Giving thanks to God while immersed in his creation not only settles my racing mind and brings me a measure of peace, it also offers much-needed perspective.

Photo by Noah Johnson

There is something deeply comforting in acknowledging and accepting my smallness in the face of nature’s breadth and depth. Noticing the intricate design of the blossoming Queen Anne’s lace at my feet and the vastness of the sky over my head reminds me of how fleeting and inconsequential most of my anxieties and concerns really are.

Singing the Christian doxology while I practice the Japanese shinrin-yoku under the wide Nebraska sky is a somewhat strange and unlikely spiritual discipline, but it’s become a favorite, near-daily personal routine. I’m always amazed that two simple practices – noticing and giving thanks – can make such a profound difference in my mental, physical and spiritual health.

Turns out, shinrin-yoku doxology worked for my friend too. A few hours after I’d talked to her, she reported back that she’d taken my advice. After a quiet walk around the lake and a few minutes spent gratefully cuddling a newborn kitten in the barn, she had returned to her desk with a lighter heart, a less frantic mind and a replenished soul.

This post first appeared in the Lincoln Journal Star on September 8, 2018.

: :

If you are visiting and enjoyed this post, you might consider signing up to receive my weekly blog posts in your in-box (or, if you’d prefer, my monthly newsletter, The Back Patio — a casual chat about books, podcasts, and fun, everyday life kinds of things). You can sign up over HERE, and as a gift for subscribing, I’ll also send you my free e-book, Learning to Listen to Your Soul: 5 Tips for Beginning a Daily Practice of Intentional Rest. 

Find and Be Found

By 5 Comments

“Find, rather than seek.” When I read those four words in Joan Anderson’s memoir A Year by the Sea, they stopped me short.

I was sitting on the back deck of our family cabin at the edge of Lake Superior. I stopped reading mid-chapter, laid the open book face down on the arm of the Adirondack chair, and stared out over the expanse of gray water stretching like a metal sheet to the horizon.

Sitting in that chair, the sound of gentle waves at my feet, I was at the same time drawn to and troubled by Anderson’s words.

The problem was, her instructions seemed to contradict a statement Jesus makes to his disciples in the gospels of Matthew and Luke: “Seek and you shall find. Knock and the door shall be opened to you.”

These words Jesus offers about seeking and finding have resonated with me for a long time. I am a seeker and a questioner. Part of this tendency is simply who I am; questioning is stamped on my DNA. But there is also a deeper force propelling these seeking, questioning tendencies in me, which is the fact that, for as long as I can remember, I’ve wrestled with a sense of restlessness, an unrequited yearning deep in my soul.

While I don’t believe God gives us everything we ask for, I have always found comfort in the words Jesus offers about seeking and finding. They’ve been a balm for my restless soul, a promise of sorts – reassurance that I will indeed someday find what I am looking for.

And yet, that day on the back deck, the cold breeze blowing off the lake, I couldn’t get Anderson’s words out of my head. “Find, rather than seek.” The more I pondered her words, the more I realized Anderson’s advice might not be in direct opposition to Jesus’ instructions to us after all.

I’ve spent most of my life relentlessly pursuing goals I’ve set. I accomplish one goal and then immediately fix my mind and heart on the next. I’ve pressed on, ticking item after item, ambition after ambition off an ever-growing list. My life has been built on striving, pushing toward something I couldn’t quite identify.

Turns out, in 48 years of seeking, I am finally beginning to find. And ironically, what I’m finding is that I already have, and have always had, what I’ve been seeking all along.

Everything we need is right here, right now, in this very moment. We find God, and we find who we are, by being present, by opening our eyes, ears, hearts, minds and souls to the here and now.  To find rather than seek means to uncover and to be present to what’s already here and to who we are, and have always been, in Christ.

What seeking ultimately reveals in the end is that we need not seek at all. Once we realize this — once we discover that we’ve already found and been found — we can rest in peace, understanding that what we’ve found is abundantly available to us.

Abundant love. Abundant peace. Abundant beauty. Abundant freedom. Abundant truth. Our finding is limited only by the boundaries we put it around it.

I sat in the Adirondack chair on the back deck for a long while that afternoon. In time, the clouds over the lake began to break. Bands of sunlight streamed down to the water as dragonflies, lacy wings glinting, swooped low over the lawn and arced back up again, snatching smaller insects from the air.

The sound of a hatchet cracking wood, my husband chopping logs for the fire, pierced the quiet. A hummingbird, jeweled ruby throat, visited the feeder, drinking long and deep from each plastic floret, wings whirring.

The breeze stilled. I unzipped my sweatshirt, leaned my head back against the wood, closed my eyes and felt the sun warm on my face.

We have all, each one of us, found.

We have all, each one of us, been found.

::

Please consider signing up to receive my weekly blog posts in your in-box (or, if you’d prefer, my monthly newsletter, The Back Patio — a casual chat about books, podcasts, and fun, everyday life kinds of things). You can sign up over HERE, and as a free gift for subscribing, I’ll also send you my free e-book, Learning to Listen to Your Soul: 5 Tips for Beginning a Daily Practice of Intentional Rest.