JustFaith Ministries invited me to write a letter for one of their Engaging Spirituality Programs. Here is the text of the letter, written at the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic.
What do you struggle with most as you seek to live with integrity?
My guiding question for this season in which we are facing
the COVID-19 pandemic is, what is mine to do? Every few years, for the last
several years, I have spent time discerning where God is calling me. It is
mostly about my professional circumstances as one who is ordained to word and
sacrament in the Presbyterian Church (USA) serving in a specialized ministry at
Bread for the World. And at every turn, I have discerned that God is inviting
me to stay put.
But in this period of COVID-19, the discernment feels a
little unfinished. It has morphed into the question, what is mine to do? (Which
makes me wonder if I was missing something in my discernment before.) The shift
happened as I began to sit with anxiety about how to take action in the
pandemic. I wanted to volunteer, but then worried about the impact of any
exposure on my partner. And as I reflected, I felt a stillness drawing me in
and an energy for action--with a vocational quality to it.
Meeting with my spiritual director, she shared the work of
an intentional community that spends time in prayer and through their prayer,
they discern how to take action as a community. And of course, that action
leads them back into prayer for the community. As she was talking about it, she
made this figure-eight motion with her hands that looked like the infinity
sign, and said, the prayer leads to action, and the action leads to prayer. Perhaps,
she suggested, the invitation is to go deeper into prayer with the question,
what is mine to do?
This question has been pervasive in my days since then. I’ve
been trying more intentionally to cultivate a spirit in myself that allows for
this question to move with me through my day…when I am sitting on a
videoconference or cooking or cleaning or reading or walking or talking with my
friends or my partner…when I feel motivated and when I feel anxious and when I
feel the deep sadness of this season.
The question allows me to sift through priorities of how I
spend my time, the boundaries I hold (or don’t) with the people around me, the
work I take on (or don’t), the “battles” I choose, how I spend my money.
But sometimes perfection rears its ugly head and sends me
into a tailspin. Perfection has many names, sometimes it’s lazy. Other times it’s
selfish. And still other times it is stingy. I offer it up and ask God, what is
mine to do? Letting go of perfection allows for the messiness that is the
reality of my life. I am constantly learning to hold the tensions between what
I hope for and what is, my conflicting and often contradictory feelings and
desires, my expectations of the people around me and how they show up. I try to
hold space for myself and the world around me without judgment. And that’s when
grace reminds me of her presence.
What do you regularly do (your daily practice) that keeps you grounded in
the struggle for authenticity?
Full confession. I have struggled with self-discipline and routines
and daily practices since my 20’s. I find routines hard to maintain and it
takes a good deal of energy for me to resist things that I enjoy in order to
hold onto those routines and practices. I go through seasons where I am very focused,
but inevitably something interrupts it—sometimes a bout of depression or
anxiety that can come up randomly or stem from a major change. But sometimes I
just get busy with work…or bored with the regular-ness of it. I wrestle through
each time and “get my act together again” only to run into something else.
Sometimes I focus on particular aspects of self-discipline. I’ll
build a regular spiritual practice and then decide I need to pay better
attention to what I am eating. And then I, of course, need to be exercising to
keep my mood up and to maintain my physical health. But then I lose my spiritual
practice. And then suddenly my house is chaotic. (I’ve come a long way; when I
was younger, I could barely keep up with my bills or keys.)
Recently, I have been trying to develop some routines that
feel natural and can support the better integration of all of these practices.
And in this I have rediscovered how some decisions can have a ripple effect. For
me, getting to bed at a reasonable hour means I’m more likely to follow a
nighttime routine. This leads to better rest, which lead to better decisions
the next day. My mother always told us as children that the hours of sleep
before midnight were better quality than those after midnight. I assumed she
just wanted a little peace and quiet. And while that might have been true, it
turns out she wasn’t exactly wrong.
At the heart of my routines is mindfulness. I lived in a
constant state of low-level anxiety for most of my life, into my 30’s. It was
second nature, and I never knew that it wasn’t normal. As I have learned what
it feels like not to be anxious, it’s easier to tell when I am anxious. But I
slip in and out of it pretty easily without noticing. But as I have been
holding these routines more tightly—particularly in this COVID-19 season, I
have more time without anxiety, and I notice more when it shows up. And that
means I can be more intentional about maintaining my routines instead of
letting them slip.
Learning to see how interconnected all of these things are
is both overwhelming and reassuring. The capacity to slow down, to relax my
mind and my body allows me to notice God’s presence with me. My nightly routine
involves reading scripture, which draws me closer to God. My morning routine
involves reflecting on the day before and where I felt connected and
disconnected. Exercise helps support better physical health, which also
supports my mental health. Starting my day with breakfast and coffee puts me on
a path to eat better food throughout the day, which supports a clearer mind and
having more energy—and more capacity for mindfulness.
There are certainly things that I have done with some
regularity that have helped me on this journey. Therapy was really important
for me in connecting the management of my anxiety with my spiritual life.
(Knowing God’s love and grace has eased a lot of my anxiety.) Learning and
cultivating mindfulness practices—even in fits and starts—has helped
tremendously to better understand my mind. More recently, spiritual direction
gives me space to better understand my deepest longings (freedom and connection
with God) and how to cultivate them in my life. And in all of this, grounding
myself in weekly (at least) worship in community and following the rhythms of
the liturgical calendar help me to be more grounded each week.
What practical challenges can you offer the group that will be reading your
letter as they seek to live an undivided (holy) and faithful life?
I once did an exercise to discern the two values that are
central in my life. It was a difficult decision to land on two as I hold a lot
of values dear to me. But the two that rose to the top—and incorporated many
others—were courage and perseverance. So, my challenge to you is to be
courageous and persevere in this journey to live an undivided (holy) and
faithful life.
This work is hard. It takes courage to come face to face
with our shadow sides and to let the light of God’s love shine on them. It
takes courage to offer our gifts and talents to the world without all of the
ego getting in the way. It takes perseverance to practice mindfulness. It’s
exhausting and mundane and we fail at it constantly. It’s a cycle of starting
and stopping that is endless. It invites us to feel all the feelings more
deeply, to let them wash over us. It invites us into difficult choices, which
sometimes we will make…but sometimes…many times, we won’t. (I stayed up until
1:00 reading last night and binge watching How to Get Away With Murder the
night before.)
The reward, which is always living there below the surface
even when we think we don’t want it, is a deeper self-understanding and a
deeper relationship with God.
I offer this scripture from Romans 12:1-2, that has been my
guiding star in my spiritual journey.
I appeal to you, therefore, brothers and sister, by the mercies
of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to
God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be
transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may discern what is good
and acceptable and perfect. (NRSV)
Rev. Nancy Neal
I am a minister of word and sacrament in the Presbyterian
Church (USA). In my tradition, we are ordained to a particular call at a
particular time. I was ordained to ministry at Bread for the World in 2012 and
have continued to serve there, presently as director of Church Relations. I
also served briefly and part time as transitional pastor of Arlington
Presbyterian Church (APC) during a period of huge disruption—they sold their
building! I continue to worship with them, often supporting the minister of
music with a little guitar accompaniment. After my time at APC, National
Capital Presbytery (where I hold my membership) invited me to serve on an
excessive number of committees (what is mine to do?). I was born in Virginia,
grew up in South Carolina, and lived in NYC for many years, where I Union
Theological Seminary. I moved to Washington DC in 2011. My partner, Nedrin and
I got engaged at the beginning of the pandemic and are considering a Facebook
Live wedding.
Rev. Nancy Neal
Bread for the World
425 3rd Street SW,
Suite 1200
Washington, DC 20024
