I know I am in trouble when I use the word “never.”  It usually is an indicator of my judge being in charge at that moment.  Ok, there are a few “nevers” we can agree upon regarding certain crimes, but even then this is a small list if you really look at in reality. 

 It would be my hope to I would never kill anyone, but honestly if me, my children, my husband were being violently threatened – hell hath no fury as this redhead and all bets are off.  I am again being reminded of my protective streak this week.

 A dear friend of mine is being hurt.  In fact, this is at my church.  I am horrified by the behavior of my minister and a controlling board on a witch hunt trying to force my friend out.  Interestingly enough as witch hunts go – this will explode in their own faces. 

 Witch hunts operate on assumptions and fear.  They are usually full of contradictions - thus easy pickings for those of us based in truth.  What lay beneath the witch hunt is judgment and “I never…”  It has been my experience, when that motto is at the forefront of a cause - there are hypocrites involved. 

 In this case, it has to do with assumed inappropriate behavior.  Red flags everywhere.  Warning - judgments abound.  So our minister is trying to force out the associate minister while her own niece, the youth minister, is doing the very same things she accusing the associate minister of doing.  Oh, it is a wicked game indeed.  Hence the witch hunt will to explode in their faces…Because the niece has been saying – “oh no, I never…”

 Unfortunately, there are cameras and witnesses that tell a different story.  Oh a tangled web we weave trying to deceive…So our minister is loosing her congregation person by person.  It is strange to see this unfold.  Strange that someone I admired so much and looked to for guidance again and again could come to this place.  Feet of clay.

 We all have them.  Sometimes they lead us to foolish places, but there, there amidst your own stupidity and follies – there is grace.  It is in our foolishness our beliefs are revealed.  Beliefs that are sabotaging our lives every today in quiet ways.  But this is the grace – the opportunity to see the folly in your ways and turn. 

 Turn to more.  Turn to a life of fullness with all your glory and warts revealed.  Yes, that is me too, feet of clay.  I am no better then my minister.  I trust this is part of her learning, her journey – blind spots to be revealed.  My job is to stand and reflect the truth.  Be a light of truth – no matter the cost - because I must.  I am no Judas. 

 A few years ago I read with my minister in Bible study as Jesus asked his disciples to watch with him on his last night.  I could barely stand the scene as I kept complaining to the group, “Who are these men?  Falling asleep not one time, but three?  How can these be the disciples?  Nothing divine about them?  Who does this?”

 My dear minister wisely asked me, “Kelly, have you ever fallen asleep?  Not shown up?”  Uuughhh, it was like a physical blow as I saw the disciples were me.  In the moment the bible became real to me and I am forever grateful. 

 So I trust, I can only see in part.  All will be revealed later.  

Everyday we are bombarded with a noisy world.  Something is always buzzing in the background.  The so-called soundtrack of your life whether it is the radio, the hum of computers and appliances, planes flying overhead, the voices of others – it is constant.  We are ourselves uncomfortable with silence as we fill the quiet spaces in natural conversation with mindless chatter – embarrassed by the silent lapses.

The constant noise around me sometimes draws me into its endless spinning.  I become like the sounds around me – constantly vibrating and moving, not listening.  I become so fixated on my sound and my moving that I forget to stop.  I become so fixated on the “I,” the Ego, that I forget to trust.  I become my own God – I am in charge, I can do it all - forsaking my true God in service of my Ego.

This is when I fall.  Somehow, something happens and I am reminded to stop and listen.  I see the Psalms of the Old Testament, “Be still and know that I am God,” and I remember I am the beloved child of God, and no one shall ever separate me from this knowledge.  A certain peace washes over me.  I am amused again to see my feet of clay that never do go away, but reappear again and again in new ways teaching me compassion.

In this humbled state, I am able to sit in the silence and know I am not alone.  This quiet does not call me to fill it with my own chatter, my own ego, but the silence draws me closer to my own longing to be whole.

When I meditate with this truth, this longing to be connected with a living God, I hear the silence talking to me - inviting me into the fullness of my life with opportunities and people who suddenly materialize as if by magic.  God is great and sometimes you need to provide the space, the silence, for a living God to speak directly to you.  May you discover the silence is waiting for you too, calling you to peace.

Everyone, and I do mean everyone, is addicted to something.  It may not seem so on the surface.  Maybe your addiction is deemed acceptable in this society.  (Or at least legal.)  Did you go shopping today?  How many shoes do you have in your closet?  Do you have to be right?  How much caffeine did you have today?  Did you eat that whole bag of chips and not even notice?  Do you starve yourself to be just right?  Do you take pills to sleep?  For aches?  Anxiety?

Addictions come in all shapes and sizes with the same insatiable hunger at the core—seeking relief, comfort, peace.

Many years ago, an astrologer was looking at my birth chart and asked me, “So, what are you addicted to?”  Horrified, I panicked, and replied, “Not me!”  She smiled and told me to calm down.  She explained something about this planet here, basically, there it was in the stars and then she said, “Kelly, this addiction is how you’ve chosen to cope with your grief.  It can be manifested in almost anything.  It takes away the hurt, the anxiety, if only just for a moment.”

There it was, that word—grief.  The disappointments, the “I’m not enoughs,” and I saw my addiction clearly as I tried over and over to block the relentless tide of grief.  The precarious balance I forced myself into over and over when life was really not working, but somehow, by sheer force of will and of course, my fix, I marched on.  I used the same tired tactics and tricks that no longer served me over and over as the void within expanded. Fueling my addiction again and again which each “fix”, hoping to fill that ever-growing emptiness with something, anything.  Hence the term vicious circle.  A place we all know too well.

Does it end?  I don’t think ever.  I think there is always a hunger within each of us to make the hurt go away right now.  Oh sure, we may be granted a period of reprieve but life has a funny way of teaching—we think we have cast out this vice only to have it show up in another form later.

For some reason, we have bought into this concept that we should only be virtuous and pristine casting out all vice and impurity.  Who are these milk toast people?  What would these pious people look like?  Would they all look the same, think the same, most definitely act the same—doing all the right things every moment and I would detest them.

I rack my brain trying to think of one person who could join these “never make a mistake” ranks and nobody comes to mind.  Oh - good people pop in my head and then I think of the mistake, the lesson they learned from not making the “right” choice, going down the wrong path.  Even Jesus initially rejected a mother asking for healing for her child, calling her a “little dog,” as she was not of the “chosen” people, thus not worthy of his good deeds.  He only relented when she beseeched him repeatedly and he finally saw his own folly (Matthew 15:22-28.)  Not the Jesus we like to think of where all are welcome.  He obviously learned something.

It is in these very places of imperfection, the places we fall down, that we can discover our best self.  Our addictions are only outward symptoms of our inner turmoil, our hidden wounds.  What is your addiction?  Does it fill, numb, or adorn you?  How big does it have to get before you look at the stuffed hurts?

Here’s the key, acceptance.  There will always be so-called triggers.  Instead of seeing these triggers as things to be stamped out, I like to think of them as sign posts of the places I still struggle with.  Usually it is the same old crew of “not enoughs” causing problems, and without fail the sooner I acknowledge the hurt, the sooner it gets better.  It’s when I hide from the wounds with addiction that trouble brews and lingers.

I heard this story somewhere about an old shaman answering the question of, are we good or bad?…Within each of us there are two dogs, good and bad.  Always there, forever.  We decide which dog to feed, everyday.

True peace happens by accepting all sides of your personality, the good and the bad, and discovering balance comes with this integration…So, what are you addicted to?