The Awkward Season

Lent is, indeed, an awkward season. I’ll be writing more about that tomorrow, but for now I wanted to share a prayer from one of the books that has accompanied my fumbling, faulty steps in Lent. It’s a beautiful and compact book called The Awkward Season: Prayers for Lent. Although it’s a bit late to get into it this year, I recommend it highly for next (especially since Lent starts the day before Valentine’s in 2013).

Like an early bloom before last frost,

like impatient rain from still-blue sky,

so too, O God,

it is hard to wait for you.

I am too hurried to let dawn break,

to let shadows fall,

to let courage root

in the soil of my soul.

But I need to learn to let dawn be dawn

and dusk be dusk,

to let you alone be God,

the God of my life.

Amen

 

from The Awkward Season, p. 42

Six Words

I've been challenging my spiritual director friends to write their life story in six words. But how about you? What would your story be in six words or less?

Meet Alan Fadling

You know how sometimes you hear about someone that a friend thinks that you should meet? And then later, another person from a completely unrelated circle says something about the very same person? And then your good friend speaks highly about a person who has been influencial in their life, and you find out it's the same person?

That's happened to me. And it happened with the director that I'm honored to introduce you to today, Alan Fadling. Sadly, Alan and I have never met in person (although I hope to remedy that very soon). However, I know many people who have been deeply influenced by his love of God and others, people with whom he's journeyed God's road. Alan's writing challenges and uplifts me, and I'm looking forward to reading his upcoming book from IVP, Unhurried Time.

Introduce yourself to the Anam Cara readers. Who are you? Where do you live? What do you do other than spiritual direction?

My name is Alan Fadling. I’m graced to be the husband of Gem (27 years this May) and Dad to Sean (19), Bryan (16) and Chris (13). We live in Mission Viejo, CA. I like to think of myself first as a beloved son of my heavenly Father (even though I forget that primary identity sometimes). I am in recovery from my addiction to hurry.

As Associate Director of The Leadership Institute (tli.cc), I serve as Dean of Training for The Journey (a two-year spiritual formation and leadership development process we’ve offered for nearly twenty years now). I also do a lot of retreat leading and, more recently, serve as a consultant to ministries and churches in helping them develop spiritual transformation culture in their life and ministry together. I’m also graced with the opportunity to serve on the board of the Spiritual Formation Alliance based in Denver, CO. 

What brought you to the ministry of spiritual direction?

I remember reading Kenneth Leech’s book, Soul Friend in 1991 when I was a local church college pastor. I began to see my pastoral ministry through the lense of spiritual direction—individual and group. I came to believe that I had an opportunity to be a “pointer of the way” (in a John the Baptist sort of way) of students to Jesus.

Why do you think spiritual direction is valuable?

In spiritual direction, I have the opportunity to offer the ministry of listening to God while I listen to another. Most of those I serve in direction are vocational ministers, and they often have no one in their life who listens to them (apart from their ministry speaking roles). There is great power in being heard. I also have the opportunity to help Christian leaders continue to keep first things first in their lives and ministries.

What’s your favorite thing about being a spiritual director?

Watching God work in the life of a person over time. I’m there once a month over sometimes years, getting more of a birds-eye perspective on the journey someone is on. It’s encouraging to me (and to those I serve, I think) to be able to notice spiritual milestones along the way.

What question about spiritual direction do you get asked the most? (And/or what question do you wish you got asked?)

Usually, questions about direction are more details-oriented: definitions, procedures or purpose. I suppose I’d enjoy being asked more often about how direction might help one’s conversational and interactive relationship with God. 

You were just given a yacht. What would you name it?

Unhurried Time. (The idea’s on my mind a lot lately).

Give us your life story in 6 words. 

I’m not good at such summaries.

Okay, you can have more than 6 words. Share your full bio.

As I mentioned above, I serve as Associate Director of The Leadership Institute in Orange, CA, a ministry that trains Christian leaders to integrate spiritual formation and leadership development. I’m currently working on a book for InterVarsity Press on the theme of unhurried time (due out late 2012 or early 2013). Through my daily blog, “Notes From My Unhurried Journey” (unhurriedtime.com), I share insights from my ministry of spiritual direction, retreat leading and leadership training. I serve as a retreat curator, spiritual director, professor and ministry transformation consultant. I have a deep and abiding desire to help Christian leaders lead from spiritual overflow rather than soul scarcity.

Anything you’d like to add?

Thanks for opening this opportunity to be introduced to your network of friends. May the grace and peace of God bring eternal encouragement, holy energy and clear direction to you. 

 

The Simple Things

Today has been a day of quiet fatigue. Like most Mondays, the day has been rimmed with email, phone calls and reading things that need to be read. I've sent out confirmation emails to my directees for the week, spent some time reflecting on what God might have in store for them and done a little schedule rearranging. I've reviewed the notes for the class on Sexuality & Spiritual Direction that I'll be teaching on Thursday night. And I've noticed, gently, that I'm tired.

The fatigue isn't particularly surprising to me. Last week was the Retreat in Daily Life. I organized and oversaw more than 120 spiritual direction appointments and spent 15-hour days on location. My personal rhythm of rest and engagement was thrown to the wind as I listened with nearly 30 dear souls in their journeys with God. While I (thankfully) didn't see all those retreatants myself (thank you, thank you to my team of directors), I did hold their stories in my heart and felt them in the depths of my soul.

Today, instead of my (way too) usual mode of pushing myself back into activity and engagement, I've allowed there to be space in my schedule and in my heart. I've breathed deeply. And I've paid attention to the simple things.

The titmice returning to the feeder once again.

The taste of jasmine tea brewed just right.

The way the shadows on the back fence move and merge as the day grows long.

I consider these simple acts of attention to be prayer. There is no heroic effort, no muscular wrestling myself into silence or lathering myself into intercessory prayer. I have to say, I'm not evening thinking much about God, although I'm still undone by the miraculous works He did in people all week long.

I'm just noticing the simple things. Letting that be enough. Releasing my need to be "seen" or "productive" or even "valuable."

Oh, what grace. Grace in the titmice and the tea and the shadows. Grace in the resting and the receiving. Grace in God praying in and through me, even when I'm not thinking about Him.

It's the simple things that restore on days like these.

Compline from the Celts

Christ with us sleeping,
Christ with us waking,
Christ with us watching,
each day and each night.

Save us, Lord, while we are awake,
guard us while we are asleep;
that, awake, we may watch with Christ,
and, asleep, may rest in His peace.

 

The Journey

 

The-journey
The Journey 

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice —
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do —
determined to save
the only life you could save. 

 
 Mary Oliver