Shannon S. McKee

musings and moments

Taking the Long Way

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On the way into work lately, I’ve been taking the long way in. It adds a few extra minutes to my trip and it’s definitely not the straightest line between two points. (Which, I realize might baffle you at first read.) But to me, it’s worth it to leave a few minutes early and take the windy, back way.

Why do I do this? Why do I got out of my way and choose the longer route?

Simple: because it’s way prettier.

Instead of driving over the potholes and past the car dealerships, my route takes me over the bike path and alongside the river, which is often misty in the morning this time of year. It takes me through neighborhoods with colorful trees and up dead man’s curve where I can do a little zoom-zoom because there isn’t as much traffic.

I’ve also been turning the news off on these short, morning commutes. I either leave the radio off all together or I play beautiful music that inspires my heart.

This new morning ritual is my small, tangible way of saying “no” to the noise. A quiet protest against the tyranny of the urgent. Every time I go this way, I remind myself that efficiency is not my highest value. After all, one can be efficient at all the wrong things. Instead, I want my life to be marked by effectiveness. And being truly purposeful in this life means tending to my inner world and slowing my pace so that I am mindful.

When I take the long way in, I notice small things. Like the kind of beauty that exists when a wildflower grows up through the unused railroad tracks. Or the way the mist clings over the surface of the river. And, also, how full the river banks look right now after all the Autumn rain. Or the way the reds are so very vibrant as the leaves change on the maple tree on the corner. Or the implied joy of a little bike leaning on its side in a quiet front yard while kids are at school.

Somehow this does something for my heart that following taillights, hurrying past dealerships, and being alerted to the latest pumpkin milkshake flavor at Swenson’s does not. {wink}

Sometimes it Gets Ugly When Expectation and Reality Meet

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2016When I declared 2016 to be my year of the soul, I was imagining something peaceful and reflective. A year full of contemplative moments. Days dripping with meaning and contentment. With candles and depthy, soul-stirring music accompanying me at every turn.

What I did not anticipate were more of the ugly cries than my usual. I did not expect to have my heart so bound up by the lives of some tiny people in Costa Rica. Or that I’d be so overwhelmed by the plight of women and children all over the globe even though I don’t believe feminism has the answers to their angst.  I didn’t think I’d wrestle so much with issues of my own calling and vocation. I did not anticipate wondering if I could handle another second of mothering or growing so stinkin’ weary of making yet another meal for my family. No one told me that I might stress-eat a whole bag of Dark-Chocolate Milanos because raising two very strong-willed teenagers is scary and hard when your soul is engaged in the whole ordeal. Or that I’d have terrifying moments of wondering if God really meant it when He made me the p-dub (pastor’s wife) or if I should really be the one leading our precious church’s women’s ministry. You could never have told me that I’d leave my Bible closed for a few weeks at a time and just want to play Sudoku on my iPad instead.

I didn’t expect to feel so raw and exposed. And want to run from that. Not what I expected at all, actually.

As if a person could really tend to the garden of her soul without getting dirt under her fingernails.

There are many outward forces that can render a garden fruitless. Crushing storms and hungry critters and root-killing pests all threaten the health of a garden. I know this to be true – literally and figuratively. I even sort of expect them to come in this sin-stained world of ours. I have even trained my mind and heart to be on guard against them. But, there are also inward forces. Weeds that have been left to grow hidden and unchecked. Or, worse yet, that have broken off at the surface but not been pulled out at the root. Invasive vines that intertwine themselves with the good plants. Depleted soil that hasn’t been cultivated, fed or watered.candles (1)

It has been these inward things that are the source of my surprise and angst. I’m not sure there’s any easy, painless way to deal with those. Deeply rooted weeds don’t get yanked out without some digging and disturbing of the soil. Removing invasive vines can leave a barren spot in the garden or render a good plant weak for a time.

So, my year of the soul has been much harder than I expected it to be. I’m not saying it’s been bad or that I want take-backs. It’s been profoundly good. In the eternal, God’s economy kind of way.

Thankfully, I’m not toiling over my soul garden alone. Never alone. I’m cooperating with the Master Gardner. Yes, sanctification is a joint affair. I am tending to my soul by working out my salvation with fear and trembling. But, He superintends the work, pouring out streams of living water for the withered plants and cultivating the soil that surrounds them. He supplies what I need to say “no” to another bag of Milanos. His mercies are new every single day when I feel like I don’t have what it takes to mother or be the p-dub. He feeds me through His Word, speaking grace and mercy over my soul. He supplies me with a husband and an abundance of dear friends who know me and speak truth to me and laugh with me and pray for me. He surrounds me with stories of redemption so that I do not lose focus on the bigger, kingdom-sized picture.

And, sometimes, He gives me candles and peaceful moments in beautiful spaces, too. Because He’s just like that.

The Keeper of the Stream – A Parable

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There once was a town high in the Alps that straddled the banks of a beautiful stream. The stream was fed by the springs that were old as the earth and deep as the sea.

The water was clear like crystal. Children laughed and played beside it; swans and geese swam on it. You could see the rocks and the sand the rainbow trout that swarmed at the bottom of the stream.

High in the hills, far beyond anyone’s sight, lived an old man who served as Keeper of the Springs. He had been hired so long ago now that no one could remember a time when he wasn’t there. He would travel from one spring to another in the hills, removing branches or fallen leaves or debris that might pollute the water. But his work was unseen.Munroe Falls Metro Park, Indian Spring Trail

One year the town council decided they had better things to do with their money. No one supervised the old man anyway. They had roads to repair and taxes to collect and services to offer, and giving to an unseen stream-cleaner had become a luxury they could no longer afford.

So the old man left his post. High in the mountains, the springs went untended; twigs and branches and worse muddied the liquid flow. Mud and salt compacted the creek bed; farm wastes turned parts of the stream into stagnant bogs.

For a time, no one in the village noticed. But after a while the water was not the same. It began to look brackish. The swans flew away to live elsewhere. The water no longer had the crisp scent that drew the children to play by it. Some people in the town began to grow ill. All noticed the loss of the sparkling beauty that used to flow between the banks of the streams that fed the town. The life of the village depended on the stream, and the life of the stream depended on the keeper.

2016The city council reconvened, the money was found, the old man was rehired. After yet another time, the springs were cleaned, the stream was pure, children played again on its banks, illness was replaced by health, the swans came home, and the village came back to life.

The life of the village depended on the health of the stream.

The stream is your soul. And you are the keeper.

(taken from John Ortberg’s book, Soul Keeping)

A Theme for 2016 {Tending to My Soul}

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I’ve spent a lot of time these last few weeks thinking about my last year. My last several years, really. I’ve been reflecting on the things that have brought me joy and the things that have put me to the test. There are many of both.  I can say with certainty that my forties have been transformative as God upends some of my motives and the deeper places of my heart. And if I had to guess, I think He’s far from finished.

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As I head into a new year, I am certainly thinking about my goals and hopes for 2016. I think there is wisdom in taking time to evaluate where you’ve been and where you’re going. Socrates was no fool when he said that the unexamined life is not worth living.

But, one thing that has really resonated with me this year is embracing a guiding theme for my year. I needed a way to tie some things together.

In that light, I’m embracing 2016 as a year of tending to my soul. As a disciple of Jesus, I could say that I’m always tending to my soul. Certainly, the biggest, most pressing need of my soul has been satisfied by His complete and perfect sacrifice on my behalf. I was in darkness. Now, I live in light. I was an enemy of God’s. Now, I am His precious daughter. I was a slave to sin. Now, I am free to choose righteousness. Yes, my soul is restored.

IMG_3491But, in the practical day-to-day of living, I haven’t been tending to it very well. I have become busy, stressed, and hurried. I’ve been neglecting my soul. What have I been doing instead? Usually working my to-do list. I’ve grown a ton this year in managing my obligations and getting crap done. But, if I’m honest, I’ve also done my fair share of internet surfing, social media indulging, and mindless iPad gaming. Oh, and worrying. Mostly about my teenagers. But also about other stuff like writing deadlines.

Wasted moments in between a life of rushing, rushing, doing, doing.

The noise of it all has left me feeling empty even when I have downtime.

It kind of all crystalized for me when I was preparing to teach at a women’s Christmas event for a church on Cleveland’s west side this December. Friends, I stood in front of several hundred women that evening. I was the speaker for their important outreach event. I’m grateful because I think God used me and some women came to know Jesus that night.  But, I’m pretty sure God was speaking to me as much as to anyone else.

IMG_3490 copyDo you know what my topic was? It was about sitting at Jesus’ feet like Mary had done. The Bible tells us that Mary had chosen the good part which could not be taken away from her. She had tended to her soul. By focusing on her Lord while sitting with Him and listening to Him. Her sister Martha, on the other hand, was worried and bothered by lots of other things. And, Jesus in His compassion for Martha, called her out on it. I could almost hear Him, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and bothered about sooo many things…” Lovingly, tenderly putting His finger on the source of her angst. Not judging her or condemning her. But loving her and wanting something better for her.

And, do you know what Martha had been so busy doing? Serving Jesus. At least that’s how it appeared on the surface. I suspect she is a lot like me and there were a whole host of other motives thrown in there. But, nevertheless, she was serving. Hosting a bunch of unexpected guests in her home. She was making them a meal and getting them water from the well and tidying up… you know the drill. The poor girl was just working her to-do list. The one Jesus had just added to by showing up unannounced. Who can blame her for being worried and bothered?

And, yet, Jesus invited her to stop. To tend to her soul by sitting with Him a bit.

2016And I wondered in that moment, is it possible for me to do what needs done in life (because, let’s face it, there IS a lot that needs done) but still have a posture of sitting with Jesus? An inclination of letting Him tend my heart/soul? Could I create rhythms and focus in my day in order to give space for God’s grace to drill down deeper?  And, in addition to creating more of that space, could I even begin to trust God to turn my ordinary tasks into sacred moments lived unto Him?
And, I heard His response to my question. It sounded suspiciously like Luke 10.

Shannon, Shannon, you are worried and bothered about so many things. But only one thing is necessary. Come choose the good portion which will not be taken away from you.

And so was born my theme for 2016: The Year of Tending to My Soul. May it be so for the many years ahead.