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In these Evil Days, Dream a Little Dream

Rev. Kathy Manis Findley

Lately, I have been trying to figure out a number of mysteries, but I have not figured out one single thing-, not lament, not how to fix my life, not transformation, not even the continuous mess in my closet. I simply have not yet been able to go through a reorganization process. The prospect of reorganizing my life—my soul, my spirit, my heart—plus all the treasures in my closet and armoire is so terribly daunting to me. Marie Kondo comes to mind, but I quickly shoo her away from my mess in the closet.

Lots of folk complain about “these days.” I confess that I do my share of complaining. What is it about “these days” that seems so troubling? I cannot fully give you an answer to that question yet, but I have some ideas about it. The issue at hand reminds me that the Bible often refers to “evil days.” I believe that many people see these days as “evil days,” and that cannot turn out well for anyone!

Jennifer Senior, a journalist with The Atlantic, recently wrote a news article in which she asked a another provocative question: What will happen to the American psyche if Trump is reelected? (Don’t worry, this post is not about Donald Trump!) On this question, maybe we really don’t want to know the answer. Instead of taking her question seriously and considering what might happen to “American psyches” following the November election, some folk would rather complain about the division all around, the evil around us, or other things nobody likes.

When we dare to make an honest evaluation of circumstances that surround us, we dig in our heels and balk. We balk because we don’t want to see the division in our nation or the impasse we have reached on important issues. We balk because, in truth, no one wants to lament. Remember, I’m not talking about divisions among us like liberal or conservative, Democrat or Republican, male or female, immigrant or American citizen, black or white . . . I could go on and on naming divisions among us. We have always co-existed with division, but most often in the past we have acknowledged division and simultaneously practiced kindness, respect, and tolerance. Given the current national environment, we might just be justified in calling these days “evil days.

If reading the Bible is something you typically do, then you might understand more fully the term “evil day.” My heart tells me that “evil days” are definitely taking a toll on us. Instinct tells me that “the evil day” is not a single day, but refers to the times in our lives when we face overwhelming , troubling circumstances. If you are willing, meditate on the following words for a few moments.


Therefore, take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand the evil day and, having prevailed against everything, to stand firm. 16 Stand, therefore, and belt your waist with truth and put on the breastplate of righteousness15 and lace up your sandals in preparation for the gospel of peace. 16 With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one.17 Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

Ephesians 6:13-17 NRSVUE

I want to remind us all about the unrest we hold inside, too close to our heart and spirit. The proximity is important to pay attention to, as well as the flashpoints, past and present, that people have endured. I would guess that there are many flashpoints and memories of times that have held power over you. You probably face off with flashpoints, knowing that they not only create stress in our bodies, but also create bondage. We can become chained to our lives. Until we have exert some control of the present time of division, hate, turmoil, distrust, disrespect, contempt and other forms of bondage, we cannot find peace that changes the world. We certainly cannot figure out how to accept the possibility of transformation.

These evil days may well be causing our hearts to lament. These days may be days full of nightmares—no dreams at all, not even little dreams. You can name your own tragedies—the ones that are making it hard to breathe for you, or the ones that cover the whole troubled world with sadness. When I think of choosing my personal places of lament, those places where I can pour out the most anxiety, I feel the heavy burden of hopelessness. If you feel that too, you are not alone.

Always looking for a scapegoat, we try to discern what is bringing us down. Of course, life often brings us unforeseen personal tragedies that we must deal with. And there is certainly enough shared anxiety to go around. If you read the daily news, you will undoubtedly hear about the fierce war in Ukraine, the inability to create peace in the Middle East, the rising cost of food, the food deserts in our country, refugee children separated from their parents, difficult financial challenges, mass shootings, fractured relationships, long-term estrangement from loved ones, the opioid crisis and addiction, racism, injustice of all kinds, and politics. Evil days!

There are so many more ills we could add to this list, but we know them already, and the news programs are anxious to tell us about broken politics, as well as the way politics creates broken people. So there you have it! Among the many sources of stress we each experience, we continually stress over the dozens of pointless news stories about politics and the behavior of politicians every day. To top it off, Gloria Mark points out that “we are once again facing a news cycle that will shove our attention—as well as our output, our nerves, our sanity—through a Cuisinart.” No matter how skillfully we deny it, our bodies are not designed to handle chronic stress and trauma.

Just about now, you might want to say that politics doesn’t affect us that much, certainly doesn’t cause depression and hopelessness. But consider this viewpoint written by Pulitzer Prize winning journalist, Jennifer Senior:

The American Psychological Association’s annual stress survey, conducted by the Harris Poll, found that 68 percent of Americans reported that the 2020 election was a significant source of strain. Kevin B. Smith, a political-science professor at the University of Nebraska at Lincoln, found that about 40 percent of American adults identified politics as “a significant source of stress in their lives,” based on YouGov surveys . . . Even more remarkably, Smith found that about 5 percent reported having had suicidal thoughts because of our politics. Evil days!

And of the most divisive election in decades, psychologists are saying that their research shows that more than two-thirds of U.S. adults (68%) say that the 2020 U.S. presidential election was a significant source of stress in life.

It is not a stretch to say that stress plays havoc on our dreams, even our little dreams. I have to confess that my big dreams disappeared into the “impossible“ file, and were then swallowed up by the churning in my stomach and my psyche. I remember my first year in seminary, working part time jobs and going to class. For a while, I worked in the development office where all the catchy slogans, mottos and themes were born. One year, the staff got together to write a theme for the annual development campaign. I don’t know who came up with our brilliant theme, but we loved it. I really loved it and made it my personal mission.

“We’re Out to Change the World!”

I tried to do just that, and I honestly thought I could, but eventually the scene in my mind of one young woman alone trying to change the world on her own made me shiver. All the lofty goals and the many little dreams, along with a few big dreams, that had my attention were disappearing before me. I despaired at first and then carried long-term grief about it. There would be no big dreams in my heart. I would never see the glory of a big dream come true. Nor would I dream small dreams. People usually don’t dream of whatever is better while they are covered in grief—mourning, lamenting that they lost their dreams in the first place. In “these evil days” we must let go of despair and pray for an extra portion of holy determination!

But people do see the sacred light that sparks dreams. It dawns over them again and again until their dreamless spirit transforms from death, to life, to get their bearings again, and to summon the energ to get up and try

This is my message to you, and to myself: After your time of lament, rejoice! After you have escaped the bondage of evil days, rejoice! After you name your loss, and then put yourself back together, rejoice!

Take heart. Up in the heavens, there is rejoicing for you! Even in the gloomy shadow of dark and evil days, there is rejoicing for you! Even if you are trying to dream even the littlest dream, there is rejoicing for you!

So try a big dream! Change the world a little bit! Your heart longs for it, the world needs it, and the heavens will do what they always do—rejoice!

May even your smallest dreams change the world!

Courage, Emerging new, Guilt, I am enough!, Internal conflict, Introspection, life, Light, Psalm 139, Re-claiming self, Sacred Worth, Self Awareness, Self-understanding, Women

When Light Runs Wild

There are days! Don’t you have those troublesome days when feeling good about yourself seems impossible? I am guessing we all have those days, because there are just too darn many things about ourselves we don’t feel very good about. What are those things? you might ask.

“I missed that deadline.”
“I was too irritable with the kids.”
“I hate my hair.”
“I have gained far too much weight.”
“I have made a mess of my life.”

The list of what we don’t like, or even what we loathe, about ourselves can be a long one, and when we ponder such a list for very long, we can develop a skewed image of ourselves. Fortunately, many of us have been able to see that the person we really are can be measured on many levels, far more important levels than, say, appearance.
Maturity helps, and aging has a way of putting all that negative ”stuff” about me in a box that I keep locked. And the key, well, I threw that key in a river!

What’s left is definitely a healthier perspective that allows me to look at myself in different ways and to make kinder conclusions. I have learned over decades that my image of myself is important, that I have to see my self with accepting eyes and that self-deprecating thoughts have the power to bring me to the edge of despondency.

. . . aging has a way of putting all that negative “stuff” about me in a box that I keep locked. And the key, well, I threw that key in a river!

kmf


Still those days come, bringing me a boatload of reasons to detest myself. There is a certain season of life in which self-flagellation is downright dangerous, wielding power over your life in very destructive ways. You’ll likely know it when you have reached that season of life — you know, the season when you can actually go out without make-up, wear a blouse two days in a row, love yourself for the whole person you are and wearing black support stockings in public, having convinced yourself that they really are stylish!

I don’t know about you, but I have to admit that I do have just a tad of trouble wearing support hose in public. That tells me that I need help, that I do not adequately value myself as a rule, that I still believe that my appearance defines me and that I need a shove to get to the point of loving who I am.

I don’t know about you, but I have to admit that I do have just a tad of trouble wearing support hose in public. That tells me that I need help, that I do not adequately value myself as a rule, that I still believe that my appearance defines me and that I need a shove to get to the point of loving who I am.



There is no better place to seek help with that than in the words of the psalmist in the 139th Psalm that say so much about how God created us and how God knows us inside and out. The Psalm tells us that we are ”fearfully and wonderfully made.” (v.14)

And then there are the inspiring words of artist and writer morgan harper nichols that so inspire me towards love, courage, audacity and the Light that runs wild within me, the Light that shines through my darkness and never goes out.

and  perhaps 
what  made  her  beautiful 

was  not  her  appearance
or  what  she  achieved
but  in  her love

and in  her  courage,
and  her  audacity
to  believe 
no matter

the darkness
around her,
Light  ran  wild
within  her,
and  that  was  the  way
she  came  alive, 
and  it  showed  up

in  everything.
— morgan harper nichols

May you have the strength to navigate those days when darkness threatens your light. May you love yourself and dig deep for the courage and audacity that frees you and lets the Light run wild within you!

A woman of sacred worth, Changing my name, Emerging new, God’s beloved daughter, In Memory of Her, Re-claiming self

In Memory of Her

The Good Place — glistening, vibrant, dangerous — from which we emerge . . .

Dedicated to my dear friends, T and J, and celebrating their new names


Two of my close friends, members of my Sunday School class, changed their names. And no, they didn’t get married. They just changed their names. The outer process, the legal process of changing their names was cumbersome, but not overly difficult. The inner process was harder, more introspective. It was a process of the heart, with the change-journey mapped out in the soul.

Why do I feel the need to do this? What should my name be, what name would most fully reflect who I am? Will I face repercussions? Will people “get it?” Why would I spend my energy to do this?

The answer to all the questions ended up being simple and straightforward and honest . . . I want to re-claim myself as I claim my new name.

We discussed this very thing when our class met on Sunday. In some ways, we honored our newly-named friends and acknowledged the soulwork and stamina it took for them to take the path to newness. We acknowledged the inner path to be dimly lit at times, filled with branches that could have blocked the way, and dangerous, as our paths and journeys often are. You know the dangerous places — our self-doubt, our rejections and betrayals, our times of being marginalized, misunderstood and dismissed. And Yet, when we memorialized and solemnized this journey to new names, we discovered the glistening light and vibrant color of it, the place from which our friends with new names emerged.

I want to re-claim myself as I claim my new name. I want to embrace who I really am as I embrace my new name.

Emerging . . .
From a Good and Dangerous Place of Glistening Light and Vibrant Color


Over the past few years, our Sunday School class studied Biblical women who faced challenges, changes or trauma. There were many. We traveled their journeys with them and imagined their emotions. One of the things we noticed about many of them is that they were unnamed, dismissed, invisible. Their stories led us to our own stories of being dismissed, ignored, invisible unremembered and unnamed. Our grief rose up from our souls as we traveled with them, and we were taken aback by all the ways we have been “unnamed” and “unremembered” in our lives.

I read a post this morning by Dianna Butler Bass. As always, her words struck a chord. Interestingly, she cited one of my all-time favorite books, “In Memory of Her: A Feminist Theological Reconstruction of Christian Origins,” written by Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza, which uncovered the story of an unnamed Biblical woman. This is what Dianna wrote:

1BE99A1F-D11C-41E1-B223-9AD66F056763The opening image from Fiorenza’s “In Memory of Her” made me gasp.

“In the passion account of Mark’s Gospel three disciples figure prominently,” she wrote. Those three were Judas, Peter, and “the unnamed woman who anoints Jesus.” Fiorenza claims, “While the stories of Judas and Peter are engraved in the memory of Christians, the story of the woman is virtually forgotten. Although Jesus pronounces in Mark: ‘And truly I say to you, wherever the gospel is preached in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her.’”

Yet, as Fiorenza notes, the woman has been largely passed over; “even her name is lost to us.” The women had disappeared to history — the very woman whom Jesus promised would live in memory. I realized that I didn’t want to disappear — that I wanted to be seen as fully human, to be remembered as one who loved Jesus, and as a faithful follower. I had lived too long in a theological community that erased women, excluded us from the story, and trivialized our experiences of Jesus. I wanted the disappearing act to end.” (p. 209).


Isn’t that what we all want and need? To not be unnamed or erased. To be named and remembered for the person ps we really are, not the persons, others define, describe and name. My comfort, as always, is that God knows my name. God never forgets who I am and, in fact, helps me to continually become the woman of worth I am meant to be. God has always guided me through that “good, glistening and dangerous place,” where I often go when I’m searching for my self. I emerge from that good and hard place every time, better and stronger.

The mystery and miracle is that God calls me “Beloved Daughter,” always, and that makes all the difference. So, if you need to, change your name! Change yourself, not into the person others want you to be, but into the person that is fully YOU. Dare to enter that good and hard place, that “good and glistening place” with the courage to meet your soul there and the assurance that you will emerge — new, renewed, known, named and cherished. God does that!

I am confident, friends, that my name and yours is locked in God’s heart, forever. God even knows our name when we change it! And the fullness of God’s grace is evident in the words of Mark’s Gospel:

And truly I say to you, wherever the gospel is preached in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her.

— Jesus

Jesus spoke those grace-filled words, and his words are true of us, each of us. Imagine this for a moment. Whatever you do in Christ’s name, whatever kindness, compassion, assistance you offer to another person, whatever act of love you do or act of grace you give, what you have done will be told and remembered. Imagine overhearing the words Jesus spoke that day: “What she has done will be told in memory of her.”

Thanks be to God who always holds our names close and never, ever forgets them.

I searched for uplifting music to leave with you today, but could not decide between these two very different presentations. Enjoy and be inspired!