On the first Thursday of each month, a group of us gather online to write to a theme. We call this Spiritual Journey Thursday.
I’ve been out of the loop awhile. Today I take up the invitation again. Denise Krebs is hosting, and she has offered us the topic of wholeness:
What does it mean to be whole, on our spiritual journey?
I feel like my reponse could take a whole book.
Maybe that’s because I understand brokenness.
Last Sunday I wrote a letter to my mother after learning of her death (the post Strewn with loss). We were estranged for almost twenty-three years. It’s a story of mental illness, compulsions, a family paying a price, and no reconcilation. The truth is that after such a shattering we can’t wish wholeness into being; we can only find something of beauty in the pieces. We must learn to treasure that. To be grateful for it. The letter to my mother is to thank her for the beautiful shards amidst the brokenness. There are many. She loved me, once. I loved her. I forgave her. She never knew. She is gone. I could not fix her or the relationship. I had to learn to be whole without her.
The truth is that we are all broken in some way, and sometimes, wholeness doesn’t look or feel like being whole. It’s not perfection. It’s not even peace. It’s more like a path.
If we choose to take it.
To me wholeness being productive, fulfilled, and able to love. Three things I rely on to get me there: Faith, nature, writing.
I’ll take them one at a time:
Faith. I believe God is sovereign. God is at work even when we cannot see it or feel it, and when we can’t seem to make any sense at all of what we are living through. He often does his best work through the least likely people and in impossible situations (for nothing is impossible with God, Luke 1:37). In my current rereading of the Bible, what stands out to me, over and over again, is God’s provision to those who love and obey him. If I am to be honest about my own spiritual journey…I fail at this miserably. But that is the point. I am broken like everything else in this world. The desire for relief from pain or a racing pulse or an anguished heart or a reeling mind is the very desire that pulls me toward God. I do not have to understand ungodly things. I have only to seek God’s help in rising above them all. He will make a way. He will provide. This requires that I know more about him and so I study. Again…wholeness is a path.
Nature. I won’t go into my many bird stories here. I will just say that having a sense of awe, as in understanding that you are part of something greater than yourself, brings purpose and wholeness. It also brings wisdom; King Solomon “spoke of beasts and of birds, and of reptiles and of fish” (1 Kings 4:33). Says my study Bible: “Careful observation of the natural world and how it works it one of the ‘normal’ ways in which people gain wisdom… Solomon was concerned with the natural world.” Nature opens your mind and your heart. It imparts awe in abundance. Trees can communicate with each other. They try to help each other. When grass is cut, it immediately begins to heal itself; that’s the fragrance you smell. That very same chemical is also warning other grass that danger is near. The networkings of mushrooms is mind-blowing. It’s called “The Wood Wide Web.” Not long ago, a first grader told me earthworms are so important that none of us would be here without them (!). Nature offers healing. If you haven’t read Something in the Woods Loves You by Jarod K. Anderson…give it a try. He is frank about his battles with depression and how nature helped pull him out of the abyss and into a better place.
He writes:
Kindness won’t make you rich, but it will make you whole. I know there is hurt in your life…These pains stick to us like burrs. They tell us to lash out, to stop feeling, to turn away and turn inward… But these impulses do not control us. They don’t write our stories, and each time you hear them and answer, “No, not today,” you have given a gift to the world…The world will give back to you in kind, but receiving those gifts can take a little practice… Nature is out there and she is in you. Meet her halfway.
I do this, every day. I meet nature. I look for birds. And more. Here’s the thing: Start looking, and they will come.
So might the feathers of wholeness that grow into wings.
Writing. I haven’t done as much writing this past year as in previous ones. I could say life gets in the way. That I don’t have a lot left to give at the end of the workday. That I am busy with my family, from my husband’s health issues to savoring any time I can get with my granddaughters…these things are true, but they’re not all. The “whole” truth is that I am tired. So, when the March Slice of Life Challenge rolled around again, I decided I would not take it on. Despite having loved it in the past, the idea of writing for thirty-one straight days and responding to others tired me even more. And then I woke up in the wee hours of March 1st and thought, why not write, you will feel deprived if you don’t. And so I got up and wrote. The following day, I wrote that letter to my mother…something I realized I really needed to do even though she will never know about it. That doesn’t matter; she’s free of her suffering in this world. And once again I realized the power of writing. Since I took on the daily challenge, I haven’t been as tired, strangely. I’ve felt stronger. More able. More clear-minded.
More whole.
Most of that is due to you, my friends. Coming back to my writing communities is like coming home to a place of profound belonging.
What is wholeness? Being productive, fulfilled, and able to love. How to attain it? Through faith, nature, writing…
Thank you, my fellow travelers, for being such a vital part of my journey.
And my wholeness.
*******
with thanks to Two Writing Teachers for the March Slice of Life Story Challenge
and to the SJT writers
and to my friend Denise, for her invitation to “wholeness”
Discover more from lit bits and pieces
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
lit bits and pieces 
Fran, the power of community is so real. Your slice is a testament to this, and you describe it so beautifully. Denise is an inspiration to so many of us, and I can’t wait to check out her SJ prompt. I like how you have shown the power of faith, nature, and writing here in your post today, but I love how these always show in your posts. Always, always the peace and healing shines through.
LikeLike
I’m happy that you are here. You don’t know this, but I texted the whole group of authors when I read your letter to your mom. It was so raw, so shattered, and so whole. I hope the rest of the slicing days continue to bring you energy and contribute to your productive, fulfilled, and able to love. Seems to me you’re doing all three things in incredible ways.
LikeLike
Melanie, your words amaze me. Thank you for telling me…I didn’t know much I needed to write the letter until I started. For all the heartbreak, separation, and even horror of the relationship, lost years ago, my mother was still my mother and I wanted to pay homage somehow. I nearly talked myself out of it, in a “let bygones be bygones” mindset…one doesn’t want to reopen wounds. The one thing I wish I could have told her before she died is thank you, despite all. I settled for telling her after. And it is enough. Gratitude frees the spirit like nothing else. We all know that writing is cathartic, but writing in a loving community is an infusion of courage. Thank you so much for yoru share.
LikeLike
Fran – I got up early this morning because I’ve been tossing and turning all through the night. Your post was so healing for me because I have gone through similar brokenness and I also have found that faith, nature, and writing heal me – and writers like you. Actually, reading is a great healer. I am heading to buy the Anderson book. Thank you, my friend, your words have power.
LikeLike
Joanne, I am sure you’ll enjoy the Anderson book. It’s spiritual although the author is not a believer. I can nevertheless relate to what he says, and in the ways he finds healing in nature. I am happy tp think my post provides healing in this way – your response is such a gift, my friend. Thank you ❤
LikeLike
Fran – your words bring so true for me because I have experienced similar brokenness, and have found wholeness in faith, nature, and writing. I’m glad that our penchant for writing brought us both here. You have healed me in so many ways. I’m not sure how you feel, but in the last few years, I have felt whole and not broken. Broken is just something that taught me to be whole and I’m happy. I hope you are too!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Fran, I am so glad you are here with us on this spiritual journey and the slicing journey. Your writing is healing to all of us, and we feel better after we have read it. Thanks for being you with all of your parts and pieces. Faith, Nature, and Writing are my top three ways to wholeness. Hugs, my friend. Maybe someday we will meet face to face.
LikeLike
I hope we do meet face to face someday, Margaret. Know that you and your words have often opened paths to wholeness for me, and I am so grateful.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Fran, first, I want to acknowledge the passing of your mother. In your words I glimpse a very long path to acceptance. But loss is loss -even when we are okay with it. I’m glad you feel you can integrate it into your path to wholeness. Your words leave me with a sense that I described to Ramona: our wholeness encompasses all the broken pieces. Perhaps we are whole when we stop believing we must be fully intact and instead, accept the beautiful shards, too. Thank you for your thoughts. I hope faith, nature, and writing bring you peace in these months ahead.
LikeLike
Fran, our “whole” is made up of pieces. Some of them are broken and don’t fit together as nicely as other pieces do. God is the glue that binds all of those pieces together His glue strongest on our most fragile pieces.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Bob, I love this: “God is the glue that binds all of those pieces together His glue strongest on our most fragile pieces.” That is incredibly beautiful and true. I am holding onto it. Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Fran, without that glue we would all fall apart.
LikeLike
Fran: thank you so much for this beautiful post. I didn’t write one this month. I feel a little confused, forgetful, and probably overloaded. I’m working on balancing all the balls that I’ve thrown into the air. But…I think you have ignited a little flame for next month. Thank you for sharing your poignant story, and for your gentle thoughts. They have been a balm for me today. Also… yes to the healing voices of nature. The other day I was out clearing up in my lawn and a cardinal began calling, so I answered. We had a long conversation and it filled my heart. God is good.
LikeLike
Fran, wow, this is so rich and full of wisdom. In your letter to your mom post, you asked, “Doesn’t most growth come from a place of pain?” I believe it, and so perhaps like I’m learning from these posts today, wholeness comes from the broken pieces along the path of life. I’m so glad you decided in the busyness of life to be here, and what a gift–“Since I took on the daily challenge, I haven’t been as tired, strangely. I’ve felt stronger. More able. More clear-minded.” Faith, nature, and writing. Healing and wholeness agents. Lovely post.
LikeLike
Thank you for the prompt on wholeness, Denise. It was particularly timely for me – it offered additional layers of perspective. I have learned that “happy” and “whole” arenot always what we think…and that the lens of gratitude can always find the gold.
LikeLiked by 1 person
A belief in a Divine power reminds us that even our biggest troubles are small in the grand design. Nature does the same, and writing just helps us remember it all. I hope you find that thirty-one pieces have been put back in place at the end of the month.
LikeLike
Your reference to belief in a Divine power reminds me again of the definition of awe, Chris. I am awed by God and his handiwork – nature. I think of how we have to accept healing and participate in it. John 5:6:”Do you want to be healed?” or “Do you want to be whole?” (depending on the translation). Yes. Sometimes writing is that very participation.
LikeLike
Thanks so much again, Fran, for all the wisdom and comfort in your writing as you make us feel an important part of your journey along the way. I love all the thoughts you have shared today, along with the anecdotes about nature and its infinite layers of complexities because it is God-created. In this dark, dark world I’m so glad I can say like you, that it’s all about God and how He can provide and not about ‘me’. My favourite line is ‘so might the feathers of wholeness that grow into wings.’
LikeLike
Thank you yet again, Celia, for your deep insights, and for being such a kindred spirit. I am so glad to know you liked the line about feathers of wholeness growing into wings. I liked it when I wrote it and then wasn’t sure – almost deleted it. I am happy I didn’t, now!
LikeLike
Fran, your words about the challenge, “…you will feel deprived if you don’t,” resonated deeply with me. Last year, I decided I wouldn’t do the challenge and then hopped in two days late. It is a healing practice. Thanks for being friend to so many of us. Your words have power and goodness (and we know how much we need goodness in our world). Thanks for being here.
Nature, such a gift, from our Father. I loved these words, “Nature opens your mind and your heart. It imparts awe in abundance.” I recently read a nonfiction book, Finding the Mother Tree. Now I look at trees and ask myself, “Who’s the Mother here?”
LikeLike