We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.
Romans 6:4
prayer
Who am I if I am not who I am?
Who am I if I am not resisting?
Who am I if I am not making my own way?
Who am I if I am not doing my own thing?
Who am I if I am not leading?
Who am I if I am not following?
Who am I if I do not have an enemy?
Who am I if I do not have a friend?
Who am I if I am not what I do?
Who am I if I am not what is done to me?
Who am I if I am not what I think?
Who am I if I am not what you think of me?
Who am I if I am not what I feel?
Who am I if I am not what I say?
Who am I if I am not what I stand for?
Who am I if I am not what I stand against?
Who am I if I am not how I look?
Who am I if I am not how you look at me?
Who am I if I am not who I am?
Who is asking?
Who is ‘I am’?
Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity
To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations on God and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox.
Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other
In an interview with Benedictine monk Father Augustine Wetta, Fr. Wetta talked about a fellow monk recently leaving the monastic brotherhood and explained that whenever this happened, it was almost always because of a secret, something they were too afraid or ashamed to tell someone else. He went on to explain just how tragic and unnecessary the loss of a monastic brother was because whatever was going on could have been worked out if only the monk were willing to discuss it with another person instead of keeping it to himself.
There’s a saying in the recovery community that “We are only as sick as our secrets.” There’s a lot of truth to this. The things about us that we hide and keep secret become the edges onto which demons can cling. By keeping certain aspects of ourselves hidden in the shadows, those shadows begin living in us.
This is not to say that we should share everything with everyone. That is not only unwise, but it can also cause more harm than good. By oversharing and being overly honest, we risk hurting others and putting ourselves in a position where we cannot help anyone.
We shouldn’t, however, be the only person who knows everything about us. This is especially true for those things about us for which we carry shame, guilt, remorse, or embarrassment. These negative emotions are a recipe for isolation, and when we isolate, which is different than solitude, the devil is usually there to keep us company. “Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective (James 5:16, NIV).”
Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity
To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations on God and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox.
Practicing the presence of God through writing
There are many ways to practice God’s presence. Writing is one such practice. This is not true for all writing, but these days, the writing I do here and at Holistic Budo is one way that I practice God’s presence in my life. That doesn’t mean that everything I write is divinely inspired—far from it. Rather, I can feel God’s presence within the practice when I write with my mind on God.
I don’t write for myself. In truth, it was never my goal or desire to write as much as I do. I write because I feel called to do so. It feels like a spiritual requirement for me, something that God is asking of me. Much like when I don’t pray or meditate, when I don’t write, I feel out of sorts. It’s as if God has given me a gift, and when I squander that gift, he lets me know it.
I also don’t publish my writing for attention. I publish what I have written to free myself of it, let it go, and put it into the world without shame, judgment, or expectation. I publish my work as an act of not hiding. This is me not hiding behind my fear, my insecurity, or my concerns over the opinions of others. This is what I wrote. Here it is. Love it or hate it, I sat down today to write, and this is what came out.
Writing has become, for me, a form of prayer. It’s an act of listening. I sometimes sit down with an idea in mind of what I want to write about, but that idea is usually just the thing that gets me started. Once I begin writing, it rarely, if ever, goes the way I expected. I’m merely a conduit for that which wants to be written. I’m not trying to write. I’m trying to get out of the way.
My best writing comes out of the quiet spaces between my thoughts. When I don’t know what to write, I wait. I listen. I feel what wants to come out, and then I do my best not to taint or distort it. Some days, it’s a struggle—it’s like grappling with a ghost. Other days, it’s easy, like the Holy Spirit is writing through me.
The more I write, the more I realize how insignificant I am and how much God truly loves me. I know that my words and blog are a drop in the ocean of creation. I don’t write, however, to make waves or even ripples in the water. I write because God has given me the ability and the inspiration to do so. And it is my way of thanking him for the Spirit he has sent to guide me. It’s an act of gratitude. It’s a practice, a method for practicing the presence of God in my life.
Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity
To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations on God and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox.
Jiu-jitsu seems to suit my obsessive yet fickle nature
For as long as I can remember, I have had wide varying and ever-changing tastes. While I really like, or even obsess over, consistency in certain things, in many aspects of my life my preferences are complex and fluid. Whether it’s music, food, hobbies, or careers, I have been all over the map in my forty some years of life.
At times, this constant changing of tastes can be expensive, both financially and emotionally. I tend to get obsessed with whatever new thing I’m interested in, diving deep into every aspect of it, learning everything I can about it, and sharing what I find with others. Eventually, the day inevitably comes, however, when my interest wanes and I obsess over something new.
Luckily, there are certain aspects of my life where this is not a problem for me. In my relationships, for example, I tend to be loyal and consistent, often to a fault. I find comfort in the stability of my relationships and, if I’m being honest, this tends to afford me the ability to be more whimsical in other areas of my life.
My ever-changing tastes can cause problems, though. There is a cost to changing directions over and over again. I cannot tell you how many things I have collected and hoarded over the years just to end up giving them away, donating them, or throwing them away when I tire of them. Like I said, I feel fortunate that I don’t treat my relationships, especially my marriage, this way, although once someone hurts me enough and I get up the nerve to move on, I move on for good.
With this on my mind, it occurred to me today that this eccentricity of mine is one of the reasons why jiu-jitsu has been such a rewarding practice for me. In jiu-jitsu, there is plenty to obsess over, but the art is so vast that there is always something new to give one’s attention to. In this way, it satisfies both my craving for depth and for breadth.
When I want to dive deep into some aspect of the art, I can do that. I can stay focused on a particular technique, position, or principle for as long as I want or need to. And then, when I tire of that thing or grow comfortable enough with it that its novelty wears off, I can turn my attention and energy to something else.
In addition to this, because jiu-jitsu is a dynamic sport practiced against a live-resisting partner, there are an infinite number of variables to face and deal with on any given day. The size, intensity, and skill level of training partners varies widely from class to class. Constraints set by the instructor such as the length of the sparring round, the starting position, or the goal of the sparring session also create new and interesting problems to solve. In short, jiu-jitsu is never boring and one is never done learning.
This has been on my mind a lot lately because I have found myself in a position wherein I have too many irons in too many fires and it has spread me thin. Normally, jiu-jitsu is a constant in my life and something I can turn to so that I can take my mind off of the other things I have going on, but I’m presently rehabbing an old injury that has been nagging me for a while, so I have had a lot of time to think and to overcommit to other things.
I thought I had been making a concerted effort to focus on the most important aspects of my life: God, family, and my career, which happens to be as a jiu-jitsu academy owner and instructor. But then I found myself being drawn in multiple other directions by new, shiny obsessions, and for once, it didn’t feel good. I used to thrive in this self-imposed chaos, but recently I have been craving a more focused, contemplative life and, as these things go, I have failed at achieving this on multiple levels.
It’s all a lesson, though. This discomfort is my teacher. I can feel that I have left the ever elusive sweet-spot and I’m out on the deep waters trying to paddle my way back to safety. Regardless of how far I go in the wrong direction, however, I am certain of one consistent, never-changing fact, and that is that God will use this experience to draw me into a closer, more meaningful relationship with him if I am willing let it be so.
Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity
To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox.
My value is not contingent upon my usefulness
I have a friend who frequently calls me to tell me how overwhelmed he is and, ironically, I allow this to overwhelm me. This is one of the challenges of being an empathetic person. I feel what others are feeling and often have a difficult time separating their feelings from my own. I call this being emotionally porous.
I’m learning to look for the space between other people’s feelings and my own, however. I’m starting to understand that, even if I can feel what they feel, I am not obligated to take action, to offer advice, or to try to solve every problem within my vicinity. But this has been a long, painful process.
After much reflection and discussion with people more well-equipped to understand these things than I, namely my therapist and my spiritual director, I have found there are many reasons why, in the past, I have felt so driven by some overwhelming invisible force to try to fix every problem presented to me. All of these reasons point back to one thing, however, and that one thing is fear.
For whatever reason, I have a deeply seated fear that, I am only worthy of love to the degree that I am able to fix everything and everyone around me. It’s not my essence or my nature as a human being that makes me lovable. Rather it is my ability to solve other people’s problems.
This belief that I am only lovable to the degree that I am useful, I have discovered, is at the root of much of my restlessness, anxiety, and insecurity. While this self-belief seemed, in the twisted way that an abusive relationship seems to be normal when one is in the midst of it, to serve me for some time, for most of my life in fact, when it started causing me more problems than it was solving, something had to change.
But change of this sort is rarely, easy. To stop doing something one has done for most of one’s life doesn’t usually happen all at once. It’s a slow, arduous process. Along with therapy, spiritual direction, and prayer, I can honestly say that the most profoundly perspective altering practice I have ever taken up in this regard has been meditation in the form of centering or contemplative prayer.
While therapy has helped me to understand why I have these unhealthy tendencies, spiritual direction has helped me to see that other people’s problems are neither my fault nor my responsibility, and prayer has brought me into a relationship with a God who can and wants to change me into a healthier, happier version of myself, centering prayer has created the space within my heart and mind to make growth possible.
The fascinating thing is that centering prayer, or any form of meditation, does not address the issue directly. Instead, through regular practice, it simply gives one more internal space, a buffer of peace if you will, between stimulus and response. By regularly practicing silence and non-attachment to my thoughts and feelings, I don’t always feel the overwhelming urge to respond to the problems presented to me like I once did.
Of course, my old habits and patterns still come up. They are rooted deeply in my psyche and those roots are difficult to dig up. When they do, however, I can better see them for what they are. That is to say, I am able to see that these thoughts and feelings are just thoughts and feelings. They are not who I am.
As a result, my relationships are starting to feel healthier. I can listen to problems without making them my own and without feeling the need to solve them or give advice. Not only that, but I no longer feel guilty about letting someone else have their own problems. As much as I am not my own thoughts and feelings, I am beginning to realize that my value is not tied to my usefulness to others.
My value is God-given, as I am a child of God created in God’s very own image and likeness. It is not what I do, what I think, or how I feel that gives value to who I am. There are no conditions on God’s love for me. I am his child, his creation, and his beloved, and my very existence is a divine gift to be cherished and appreciated for the very fact that it is from God. I am not lovable because of what I do. I am lovable because I am.
Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity
To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox.
When you make your bed, make your bed for God
At night, my wife is always cold and I’m always hot. We used to try to share blankets, but inevitably, one or both of us was uncomfortable. For this reason, even though we sleep in the same bed, we sleep with separate blankets. This is our low-tech way of adjusting our personal heat settings.
Because of our schedules, we both wake up fairly early, but I tend to wake up earlier. In fact, if my wife wakes up and I’m still in bed she knows I’m either exhausted or sick. In these rare instances, she is kind enough to just let me be and she gets our daughter ready for school, which is usually a task that we share.
Each morning, as soon as I roll out of bed, the first thing I do is get on my knees to pray. I thank God for another day, I ask him to remove the things that are blocking me from being of service to him and my fellows, and I ask that he guides my thoughts, words, and actions so as to bear witness to his love, power, and way of life.
After my initial prayers, while trying to remain quiet as to not wake my wife up, I fold the blankets on my side of the bed and go downstairs. This morning, however, when I looked at the blankets, I simply didn’t feel like folding them. I got up, looked at them, and turned to walk away, but then the thought popped into my mind, “When you make your bed, make your bed for God.”
With this thought, I was overcome with a sense of great peace. For a moment, it was all so clear. Whether making my bed, brushing my teeth, cooking breakfast, washing the dishes, or giving my daughter a goodnight kiss, if done in a prayerful manner, it is all prayer.
By setting my intention toward God and focusing my attention on the task in front of me, I’m no longer just folding of a blanket. I’m participating in an act of thanks, praise, and supplication. Maintaining this attitude of constant prayerfulness is not easy, but acknowledging the possibility and desirability of such a posture is a step in the right direction.
Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity
To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox.
God calls us to stillness in a unique way meant just for us
In spite of my best efforts to remain present and prayerful, I spend a lot of time either working to make things happen faster than they should or waiting in anticipation for them to come to pass. That is to say, I spend a lot of time with my mind and emotions in the future. God does not exist in the future, however. God exists here and now, in this moment.
Faith is not an easy thing. It requires us not only to trust that God loves us and is sustaining us, but also to act like it. That means we must learn to be still and this takes practice.
I posed the question, “What practice(s) do you use to get and/or stay in the moment?” to a couple of friends the other day. Their answers were enlightening, especially in how varied they were.
One friend said that he prays the rosary and also self-administers reiki. We have always had both God and reiki in common and it pleases me to know that, after all these years, he is still practicing reiki. Praying the rosary, on the other hand, is new to me and is something I am just now learning how to do.
The other friend said that he reminds himself to focus on only one task at a time, which is something I have read the late Vietnamese Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh write about a lot. “If while washing dishes,” Thich Nhat Hanh writes, “we think only of the cup of tea that awaits us, thus hurrying to get the dishes out of the way as if they were a nuisance, then we are not ‘washing the dishes to wash the dishes.'” In addition to focusing on only one task at a time, this second friend also utilizes a breath practice and prayer to stay in the moment.
Aside from my morning (and sometimes afternoon) contemplative prayer, one practice I have been using recently is The Jesus Prayer, a prayer that can be traced back to 4th or 5th century Christian desert monks. When distracted, anxious, or agitated, I repeat, “Jesus Christ, son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner,” over and over again until I’m recentered. I also use The Jesus Prayer as a breath meditation by breathing in “Jesus Christ, son of God,” and breathing out “Have mercy on me, a sinner,” which is a practice I picked up from a talk by Bishop Robert Barron.
What is most fascinating to me about all of this, aside from the fact that I have checked my social media feed several times while writing this in anticipation of likes or comments, is that each of us is essentially seeking the same end goal, but by very different, if overlapping, means. This, to me, is a sign of how loving and personal God truly is. He calls each and every one of us to him, to be perfectly still and present in his presence in this moment, but he calls each of us in a unique way that is meant just for us. That’s how much he loves and is interested in us. What an amazing God we have!
Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity
To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox.
Some days God reminds us how much we need him
Some days, God likes to remind us how much we need him. He lets us get just far enough away from him that we fall and have to return to him for forgiveness and guidance. Today was one of those days for me.
The morning started out normal enough. I woke up a few minutes later than I would like, but it didn’t seem like a big deal. I went downstairs to make my daughter breakfast and, while doing so, I listened to a podcast about Thomas Aquinas.
As I made my daughter’s ham, egg, and cheese sandwich, I remembered my wife telling me the night before that there were chicken quesadillas prepped in the refrigerator for my daughter’s lunch. All I needed to do was to heat one up, put it in a container, and put it in her lunchbox. But this is where things went sideways.
My next thought after I remembered what my wife said was, “She can take care of that. I’m making breakfast. She can get up and make lunch. It’s time for my prayer hour and I have an appointment later.”
I finished making my daughter’s breakfast, set it on the table for her, and then sat down to for prayer. I started by reading a little bit about the history of Saint Patrick. After that, I read the Catholic Mass readings for the day. Then, holding the rosary my friend gave me, I said one Our Father and three Hail Marys and then sat in silent prayer for twenty minutes.
While I was in silent prayer, I heard my daughter’s first alarm go off and then I brought my mind back to God. A few minutes passed and I heard her second alarm go off and then I brought my mind back to God. Then she came downstairs and I brought my mind back to God. I heard her sit down to eat, open a book, and thought, “That book is going to make her eat slowly and she’s going to be late,” and then I turned my mind back to God.
When I was done with silent prayer, I opened my eyes and started to write my Meditations of a Gentle Warrior blog post for the day. While I was doing this, my wife came down and made my daughter’s lunch. She then told my daughter to close her book and finish eating because she was taking too long and was going to be late.
After my daughter finished her breakfast and my wife packed her lunch, we all started scurrying to get my daughter out the door on time. She went upstairs to brush her teeth and, when she came down, it was time to go, but her hair still wasn’t brushed or tied up and her agenda book wasn’t signed. Her mother was starting to get irritated and I could feel the tension building.
As my wife helped my daughter with her hair, I grabbed my daughter’s agenda book to sign it for her. I was getting flustered because it was time to go and all of this should have been done earlier. I also knew in the back of my mind that, if I had only been a little bit less selfish and prepped my daughter’s lunch for her while I was in the kitchen, my wife could have done her hair while she was eating, and we’d all be less frustrated.
After I signed her agenda book, I struggled to get it closed and, in my frustration, I lost my cool and tossed the agenda book on the couch in my daughter’s direction. I then grumbled at both of them that if they woke up earlier we wouldn’t all be in such a hurry.
The truth is, however, that I woke up late this morning, not them. It wasn’t too late, but it was late enough that I had to do my silent prayer while my daughter was getting ready and eating breakfast which, while doable, is not ideal. And then there was the selfish attitude I had about my daughter’s lunch.
I got my daughter out to the bus stop and she made it in time to catch the bus. After the bus drove away, I started on my morning walk. I was about a half a mile down the road when my wife called to talk about what happened earlier. We agreed that we need to do better and came up with some strategies for doing so, and then went on about our respective days.
I should say that I am extremely grateful for the fact that my wife and I talk through these things the way we do. Even when it’s hard or we don’t know how to be, we both want to be better spouses and better parents. These little five minute talks after a less than perfect morning where mistakes were made goes a long way to that end.
After I got home from my walk, a friend of mine who is struggling with some personal issues texted me and we shared back and forth about forgiveness and the process by which God expects us to do so, even when we have been truly hurt by someone. Somewhere in that text thread, I explained how I am constantly reminded of how imperfect I am and that these reminders help me to be more forgiving of others. I went on to say, “I threw my daughter’s school notebook in her direction today RIGHT AFTER I FINISHED MY MORNING MEDITATION. My God do I need God’s help!”
With this awareness of my own sinful nature, that even around my morning prayers I can be selfish toward my wife and impatient toward my daughter, how can I possibly hold a grudge against someone else for hurting my feelings or living in an ungodly way? Without God, I am nothing. Without him, I refuse to make my daughter lunch because, “That’s my wife’s problem and I already made her breakfast.” Without the Lord, I am selfish, I lose my temper over stupid things, and I throw notebooks.
Clearly, there is more work to do and more praying to be done. What a blessing it is to see these things today though. By God allowing our flaws to come to light, we are afforded the opportunity to turn back to him for help, forgiveness, and a better way forward. Just like distractions in meditation are an opportunity to turn our mind back to God, mistakes are an opportunity to turn our hearts back to God.
Later in the day, when my daughter got off the bus, we talked about what happened in the morning. I apologized to her for throwing her agenda book on the couch and told her the strategies her mother and I discussed for doing better in the morning. Unprompted, when my wife got home from work, she had the same conversation with our daughter but apologizing for her side of things and explaining how we can do better tomorrow.
I don’t know if these little talks are necessary or if my daughter “gets it,” but as far as I can recall, I never had them as a kid that and they feel like healing. It’s important for her to know that we make mistakes and when we do, that we own up to them, apologize, and try to make things right. It’s even more important, however, for my daughter to know that her parents are working together on her behalf and that God is helping us to do so because we can’t do it without him.
Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity
To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox.
Resentment is an attempt to deny someone else salvation
Resentments are like a wedge in our hearts. They separate us from God and our fellows. In fact, resentments are an attempt to play God by not accepting what has happened as being in accordance with his will. By holding onto a resentment against someone else, we are essentially saying that we have the right to withhold love from them, that we have the power to withhold mercy from them, and that we have the desire to withhold salvation from them.
In this way, holding onto a resentment against someone is an attempt to cut them off from God. It is to deny them love, mercy, and forgiveness. And this, according to Jesus is tantamount to murder. “You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, ‘You shall not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.’” he said, “But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to [the same] judgment [as one who has actually committed murder] (Matt 5:21-22).”
When we are angry, we forget that only God has the power to withhold salvation. Only God has the authority to withhold mercy. And no matter what a person does, God never stops loving them. These are his gifts to give and we can do nothing to deserve or to earn them. They are freely given and we are free to accept or deny them. What we are not free to do, however, is to deny love, mercy, or for someone else, for we are not God.
On the contrary, Jesus said, “Love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who persecute you (Matthew 5:43-44, NIV).” He commands that, no matter the harm and no matter how many times we are hurt or offended, we are to forgive “not seven times, but seventy-seven times (Matt 18:21-22).” To hold a resentment, therefore, is not only to play God, but also to reject his teachings and deny his authority.
Tragically, in our imperfection, in our flaws and brokenness, we are going to fall short of Jesus’s commandments. We will not always “Love the Lord God with all our heart… soul and… mind.” Nor will we always “Love [our] neighbor[s] as [ourselves] (Matt 22:37-39).” But we can pray.
When we find ourselves being resentful toward someone, we can confess it to God and another person. We can pray and ask God to forgive us and help us show this person forgiveness, love, and mercy. And we can “go and be reconciled with them (Matt 5:23)” so that we can approach God with a open heart and a clean conscience.
Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity
To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox.
ROBERT VAN VALKENBURGH 