Background on what I'm talking about when I say "hand over the gun" in the next few posts, a concept and term from Ruth Haley Barton's prolific work and study of the soul in Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership: Seeking God in the Crucible of Ministry.
But really, it is just an amazing book on the power of seeking God period and being still; the soul, as she describes as the "part of us that is the most real," and how solitude and silence can change everything about our lives. A concept and book that has certainly changed mine and it is crazy how so much of this journey that began in 2009 was preparing me to walk through the challenges, loneliness, and grief of this season, but where I can know I am truly found in Him.
The following is from a post I wrote June 9, 2009 after hearing her speak at a retreat and in the process of reading her book:
"We can be fairly certain that Moses developed some pretty good coping mechanisms for dealing with the pain of his situation, as all human beings do. All of us develop ways of adjusting and staying safe in the midst of whatever danger or difficulty is present in our environment. We develop these patterns before we are conscious that we are doing so, and they become very normal to us.
Because these patterns are formed unconsciously while we are still young, as adults we have little conscious awareness of these adaptations until they start to hamper our current relationships and no longer serve the journey that God is inviting us to."
- Ruth Haley Barton, Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership
This pretty much defines and captures the need for recovery ministry perfectly, when I read it I wrote a big YES next to it...
It only takes days like the last couple days with experiences with my family of origin to remind me of why I have been called to recovery ministry, whatever that looks like, I’ve been called to be a part of the process of captives being set free, of brokenness being owned and thereby healed, and others becoming more whole.
Unresolved sin and pain destroy lives. They destroy families. Of which I have all too close personal experience. I have seen the devastating effect of sin and its toll, when not dealt with and how it has affected each and every one of us. The pain caused is immense, yet the pain of the one who has inflicted most of the pain is sadly way deeper. What's worse, this isn't unique to just my family, others in my life wrestle with these same realities daily.
PUTTING DOWN THE GUN
“… As we face who we are more honestly, we find that we are finally ready for an encounter with God. The first leg of Moses’ journey as a leader, then, was not to lead anyone else anywhere; it was to allow himself to be led into freedom from his own bondage. Before he could lead others into freedom, he needed to experience freedom himself.
(Quick background, Barton spent the previous chapter detailing Exodus 1 and 2 where Moses was found out after killing an Egyptian, his anger getting the best of him as this was his unrefined leadership doing what he thought was needed for the situation. His embarrassment and shame at being found out caused him to flee into solitude with God. As he realized he was no longer in control and his past and his patterns were controlling him. And then we see a change in him, his own conversion and how it changes the soul of his leadership).
Yes, anger and the need to prove himself through the misuse of power would probably always be temptations for him (as we see in Numbers 20:1-13, for instance), but they would never again be his normal and accepted mode of operation.
Theophane, a Cisterian monk residing at St. Benedict’s Monastery in Snowmass, Colorado, tells a striking story that beautifully illustrates such letting go:
Today, I was told to hand over the gun.
The anger I seldom allow myself feel, the anger I say is no longer there because I have come to peace with all of my story and forgiveness and redemption have been done and are being done. Yet this wasn’t where I lived today. Today feelings of anger and disgust came and had to be dealt with. Hand over the gun, Mazvita.
If I could use one word to describe my childhood home it would be: chaotic.
This is not a slam, this is a reality I have had to accept today. As recent eruptions pulled me back into the chaos, I was reminded I can not disassociate as I would like to do but take an honest look at this home and how it has wrecked and shaped each one of us. How sin and its devastating effect have destroyed a family desperately trying to pick up the pieces. No one has come out or is still in the fire, unscathed. The debris is widespread, lives in the wreckage of years in the making. More damage coming to light, as sin and its hold cannot be hidden.
Surrounded by brokenness and it reminds me that I have some to own.
I have to accept and acknowledge theirs as well as mine. Say that it was ugly and painful, yet say that it was real. Say that it was wrong and grave mistakes were made, but also say I love you and I forgive you and accept you. Say that as a result I have made mistakes and have brokenness as well, but say I am loved and redeemed and have been given a new life now. I have to own and accept all of my story.
HAND OVER THE GUN
... were the Father’s words to me today...
as He pushed me to deeper places in my heart He wanted us to go today. I remember hearing this part of the book shared by Ruth herself, as she spoke at a retreat I went on last month, and remember how powerful that session was. You could see we all just got punched in the gut and sat motionless, letting it all sink in, all painfully aware of the gun we were clinging to yet desperately trying to hide. And then, I read this chapter about a week ago, this book is one that I wish I could fly through but have to stop to process. It wasn’t until today I was able to hand over the gun.
Part of why I love this book is that it speaks to the recovery journey I’ve been on since January and the power behind allowing our souls to be set free, and how once we get a glimpse of the weight of it all, we see this journey is not only critical for us to take for us and our relationship with our Lord, but as I found and shared with friends one day last semester, this has profound effects and has not only saved my relationship with God, it has potentially saved my career in ministry, it has potentially saved my current and future relationships, and it has potentially saved my future marriage. It’s that serious. And that necessary that I be doing this right now, for my own life and the lives of those around me.
Which is what this books talks about, how critical a leaders’ soul is to their life and the lives of those in their wake. Unattended our souls can do much damage.
But there is another desire that is greater than our desire to be safe. It is the desire to abandon ourselves to God and the life to which he is calling us. It is the desire to leave Egypt and journey with others to the Promised Land. Sometimes we hear God’s whisper, “Why don’t you just give me the gun?” We feel ourselves trembling with longing and with possibility, with fear and with hope. He waits quietly, patiently. And as we are ready, we give him that behavior, that pattern, that sin that we have relied on all these years, our tears running down to the ground. At least for a moment, we let ourselves feel what it’s like to be free.”
- Ruth Haley Barton, Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership
This recovery process has been a journey I will never forget, one that has been worth every step, the painful and the freeing moments, a journey of my soul returning home.
But really, it is just an amazing book on the power of seeking God period and being still; the soul, as she describes as the "part of us that is the most real," and how solitude and silence can change everything about our lives. A concept and book that has certainly changed mine and it is crazy how so much of this journey that began in 2009 was preparing me to walk through the challenges, loneliness, and grief of this season, but where I can know I am truly found in Him.
::
The following is from a post I wrote June 9, 2009 after hearing her speak at a retreat and in the process of reading her book:
"We can be fairly certain that Moses developed some pretty good coping mechanisms for dealing with the pain of his situation, as all human beings do. All of us develop ways of adjusting and staying safe in the midst of whatever danger or difficulty is present in our environment. We develop these patterns before we are conscious that we are doing so, and they become very normal to us.
Because these patterns are formed unconsciously while we are still young, as adults we have little conscious awareness of these adaptations until they start to hamper our current relationships and no longer serve the journey that God is inviting us to."
- Ruth Haley Barton, Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership
This pretty much defines and captures the need for recovery ministry perfectly, when I read it I wrote a big YES next to it...
It only takes days like the last couple days with experiences with my family of origin to remind me of why I have been called to recovery ministry, whatever that looks like, I’ve been called to be a part of the process of captives being set free, of brokenness being owned and thereby healed, and others becoming more whole.
Unresolved sin and pain destroy lives. They destroy families. Of which I have all too close personal experience. I have seen the devastating effect of sin and its toll, when not dealt with and how it has affected each and every one of us. The pain caused is immense, yet the pain of the one who has inflicted most of the pain is sadly way deeper. What's worse, this isn't unique to just my family, others in my life wrestle with these same realities daily.
PUTTING DOWN THE GUN
“… As we face who we are more honestly, we find that we are finally ready for an encounter with God. The first leg of Moses’ journey as a leader, then, was not to lead anyone else anywhere; it was to allow himself to be led into freedom from his own bondage. Before he could lead others into freedom, he needed to experience freedom himself.
In solitude he was able to let go of the coping mechanisms that had served him well in the past but were completely inappropriate for the leader he was becoming.
(Quick background, Barton spent the previous chapter detailing Exodus 1 and 2 where Moses was found out after killing an Egyptian, his anger getting the best of him as this was his unrefined leadership doing what he thought was needed for the situation. His embarrassment and shame at being found out caused him to flee into solitude with God. As he realized he was no longer in control and his past and his patterns were controlling him. And then we see a change in him, his own conversion and how it changes the soul of his leadership).
Yes, anger and the need to prove himself through the misuse of power would probably always be temptations for him (as we see in Numbers 20:1-13, for instance), but they would never again be his normal and accepted mode of operation.
Now it was time to relinquish the weapons of false security, to come out of hiding and make room for something new to come.
Theophane, a Cisterian monk residing at St. Benedict’s Monastery in Snowmass, Colorado, tells a striking story that beautifully illustrates such letting go:
I saw a monk alone in the vegetable garden. I squatted down beside him and said, “Brother, what is your dream?” He just looked straight at me. What a beautiful face he had.
“I would like to become a monk,” he answered.
“But brother, you are a monk, aren’t you?”
“I’ve been here for 25 years, but I still carry a gun.” He drew a revolver from the holster under his robe. It looked so strange, a monk carrying a gun.
“And they won’t—are you saying they won’t let you become a monk until you give up your gun?”
“No, it’s not that. Most of them don’t even know I have it, but I know.”
“Well then, why don’t you give it up?”
“I guess I’ve had it so long. I’ve been hurt a lot, and I’ve hurt a lot of others. I don’t think I would be comfortable without the gun.”
“But you seem pretty uncomfortable with it.”
“Yes, pretty uncomfortable, but I have my dream.”
“Why don’t you give me the gun?” I whispered. I was beginning to tremble.
He did, he gave it to me. His tears ran down to the ground and then he embraced me.”
“I would like to become a monk,” he answered.
“But brother, you are a monk, aren’t you?”
“I’ve been here for 25 years, but I still carry a gun.” He drew a revolver from the holster under his robe. It looked so strange, a monk carrying a gun.
“And they won’t—are you saying they won’t let you become a monk until you give up your gun?”
“No, it’s not that. Most of them don’t even know I have it, but I know.”
“Well then, why don’t you give it up?”
“I guess I’ve had it so long. I’ve been hurt a lot, and I’ve hurt a lot of others. I don’t think I would be comfortable without the gun.”
“But you seem pretty uncomfortable with it.”
“Yes, pretty uncomfortable, but I have my dream.”
“Why don’t you give me the gun?” I whispered. I was beginning to tremble.
He did, he gave it to me. His tears ran down to the ground and then he embraced me.”
Today, I was told to hand over the gun.
The anger I seldom allow myself feel, the anger I say is no longer there because I have come to peace with all of my story and forgiveness and redemption have been done and are being done. Yet this wasn’t where I lived today. Today feelings of anger and disgust came and had to be dealt with. Hand over the gun, Mazvita.
If I could use one word to describe my childhood home it would be: chaotic.
This is not a slam, this is a reality I have had to accept today. As recent eruptions pulled me back into the chaos, I was reminded I can not disassociate as I would like to do but take an honest look at this home and how it has wrecked and shaped each one of us. How sin and its devastating effect have destroyed a family desperately trying to pick up the pieces. No one has come out or is still in the fire, unscathed. The debris is widespread, lives in the wreckage of years in the making. More damage coming to light, as sin and its hold cannot be hidden.
Surrounded by brokenness and it reminds me that I have some to own.
I have to accept and acknowledge theirs as well as mine. Say that it was ugly and painful, yet say that it was real. Say that it was wrong and grave mistakes were made, but also say I love you and I forgive you and accept you. Say that as a result I have made mistakes and have brokenness as well, but say I am loved and redeemed and have been given a new life now. I have to own and accept all of my story.
HAND OVER THE GUN
... were the Father’s words to me today...
as He pushed me to deeper places in my heart He wanted us to go today. I remember hearing this part of the book shared by Ruth herself, as she spoke at a retreat I went on last month, and remember how powerful that session was. You could see we all just got punched in the gut and sat motionless, letting it all sink in, all painfully aware of the gun we were clinging to yet desperately trying to hide. And then, I read this chapter about a week ago, this book is one that I wish I could fly through but have to stop to process. It wasn’t until today I was able to hand over the gun.
Part of why I love this book is that it speaks to the recovery journey I’ve been on since January and the power behind allowing our souls to be set free, and how once we get a glimpse of the weight of it all, we see this journey is not only critical for us to take for us and our relationship with our Lord, but as I found and shared with friends one day last semester, this has profound effects and has not only saved my relationship with God, it has potentially saved my career in ministry, it has potentially saved my current and future relationships, and it has potentially saved my future marriage. It’s that serious. And that necessary that I be doing this right now, for my own life and the lives of those around me.
Which is what this books talks about, how critical a leaders’ soul is to their life and the lives of those in their wake. Unattended our souls can do much damage.
“Most of us have a gun—some way of protecting ourselves and making ourselves feel safe, hidden under the robe of our leadership persona. It is fairly easy to keep our gun hidden most of the time, but we know that it is there and that it is incongruent to the person God is calling us to be.
We also know that if it were to “go off” unexpectedly, it would do great damage.
We are uncomfortable living with it, but we are afraid to live without it.
Sometimes we let ourselves dream of being free, of traveling without the need to pack a weapon. Holding onto our self-protective patterns is one manifestation of our unwillingness to surrender ourselves to God for the journey that is ahead.
We also know that if it were to “go off” unexpectedly, it would do great damage.
We are uncomfortable living with it, but we are afraid to live without it.
Sometimes we let ourselves dream of being free, of traveling without the need to pack a weapon. Holding onto our self-protective patterns is one manifestation of our unwillingness to surrender ourselves to God for the journey that is ahead.
But there is another desire that is greater than our desire to be safe. It is the desire to abandon ourselves to God and the life to which he is calling us. It is the desire to leave Egypt and journey with others to the Promised Land. Sometimes we hear God’s whisper, “Why don’t you just give me the gun?” We feel ourselves trembling with longing and with possibility, with fear and with hope. He waits quietly, patiently. And as we are ready, we give him that behavior, that pattern, that sin that we have relied on all these years, our tears running down to the ground. At least for a moment, we let ourselves feel what it’s like to be free.”
- Ruth Haley Barton, Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership
This recovery process has been a journey I will never forget, one that has been worth every step, the painful and the freeing moments, a journey of my soul returning home.
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