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

 

 

Meet Christine Valters Paintner

Christine is a gift. I first met her through Abbey of the Arts, her virtual monastery, and got to know her through a few of the online courses that she offers. In emails and other exchanges, I got to know her a little bit better, and then at a Spiritual Directors International event I was graced with meeting her in the flesh. As you'll read below, Christine is articulate, warm and deeply intuitive. What you don't know is what I experienced upon meeting Christine in person for the first time—to be with her is to know yourself profoundly accepted. It is a rare thing, and a holy one. 

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

I am Christine Valters Paintner and I live in Seattle, WA with my husband and my canine companion (who is one of my primary spiritual directors) in the heart of the city. I am a Benedictine oblate which means I have made a commitment to living as a monk in the world outside the monastery walls. I am also the online Abbess of Abbey of the Arts, a virtual monastery offering resources, retreats, and online classes in contemplative practice and creative expression. So my main work other than spiritual direction is as a teacher and a writer of several books on monastic wisdom.

What brought you to the ministry of spiritual direction? 

Like many folks, I found that there were people starting to come to me for guidance in the spiritual life. This first started happening in my mid-twenties when I was working as a campus minister at a Catholic high school. From there I went onto graduate school to earn my PhD in Christian spirituality. Despite the academic focus of my life, I also continued to feel drawn to being in relationship with people in ministry and so began moving into retreat and spiritual direction work. It was really these kinds of relationships that ultimately helped me to decide not to pursue the academic path after graduating. I wanted to keep being involved with people in this intimate and holy way.

Why do you think spiritual direction is valuable? 

Spiritual direction has a multitude of values which include sitting with someone who has some wisdom about the spiritual journey (sort of a mentor for moving more deeply inward), being in a safe and sacred space to explore the holy and terrible moments of one's life, having a place to dream the dreams God has planted in our hearts in an uncensored way, and returning again and again to a place where we can integrate the different threads of our lives.

For me the metaphors of midwife and weaver speak most powerfully to the spiritual direction ministry. The spiritual director helps to support the holy birthing happening in souls and the weaver helps to draw together the threads into a tapestry.

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

It is a profound honor to sit with people, create this safe container to hold whatever comes forth in our time, and then be privileged to enter into the intimacy of their lives. What I have been told again and again, that often peoples' greatest learning and gift from their time in spiritual direction or my retreats is the permission and encouragement to be exactly wherever they are in their journey without judgment and to welcome in all the difficult feelings that arise with compassion, and to have permission to fully take care of one's own needs which leads to the ability to begin to name what those are.

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

I would name it "peregrinatio," which is a Latin term for something the ancient Celtic monks would do, which is set sail in a rudderless boat without oars and let the wind and water carry them to the place of their resurrection. I try and live this in a more metaphorical way in my daily life, surrendering myself to the unfolding of my life, leaning into the holy direction it is taking.

Give us your life story in 6 words.

Pilgrim yogi monk dancing her prayers

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

Writing is one of my biggest passions and I have six published titles including The Artist's Rule: Nurturing Your Creative Soul with Monastic Wisdom. I am currently developing my online class Eyes of the Heart on contemplative photography into a book length reflection on that process. I love spending hours at a time diving into the joy of the written word.

Much of my work focuses on supporting what I call soul care practitioners (spiritual directors, chaplains, counselors, and pastors) in their own self-care, contemplative life, and bringing the expressive arts to their work. I have recently created a Soul Care Institute through Abbey of the Arts to offer a sequence of online and live programs to support this vision.

On a more personal level my daily practice includes lectio divina, journaling, and yoga. Yoga has become a significant practice for me in the last 15 years and I recently completed training to teach. Mostly I am interested in the ways that the philosophical path of yoga is in such alignment with monastic wisdom in Christian tradition, especially the desert mothers and fathers.

Walking and pilgrimage are also vital practices for me, keeping me immersed in the life of the world and taking journeys to visit places of ancestry. I believe that the stories of our mothers and fathers, grandmothers and grandfathers are our own stories, we come to know ourselves more deeply in this way. Daily walks at home keep me connected to the rhythm of the seasons, a source of great wisdom for my life.

I have been married for 17 years to a wonderful man who supports me in all my crazy dreams and visions. Marriage has been the place of learning my deepest self-acceptance and love as well as the rich wrestling that comes from having to negotiate daily life with another person.

 

 

Danger, Danger

It is dangerous for me, as a spiritual director to write things (better said to publish things?) while I'm in the midst of leading a retreat.

There are some practical reasons for that, of course. If I publish things during a retreat, there is the possibility that the retreatants will think that I am writing about them. That alone could be crushing to the tender souls that I am journeying with. It is bad enough when you suspect that a friend is talking about you behind your back. It is horrifying to think that person might be your spiritual director.

The other danger to writing or publishing things while in the midst of a retreat is that I myself am in process. Any retreat has a movement to it (John Veltri called this the conversion cycle, and I have seen it play out time and again), and this movement occurs in both the retreatant and the director. Writing something in the middle of that process and sending it out to the world as a fait accompli is necessarily static. And the temptation is to name that thing as an accurate picture of where I am, rather than simply an image of me in motion.

I know that blogging carries with it an implicit understanding that the ideas expressed in the blog are fluid, apt to change or movement over time. Although this is not exclusively true of blogging about belief, it is particularly so in this context. What once was lost, now is found, and all that. And yet, there is enough rigidity to the medium (note how quickly Twitter and Facebook promulgate a pithy sentiment or quote taken out of context as the complete picture of what a person thinks on a subject) that saying something too soon, or in the midst of a shift of perspective can do much more damage than the good of offering it can offset.

As one of my favorite prayers states, "And so I think it is with you. Your ideas mature gradually—let them grown. Let them shape themselves without undue haste. Don't try to force them on…"

All of which is to say, if I'm quiet over the next week, you now know why.

 

The Journey of Forgiveness

This is the week preceding the beginning of Lent, whose advent is marked by what I used to jokingly refer to as “Identify a Catholic Day,” Ash Wednesday. As an Anglican, I now somewhat resent my former self for that oversimplification—there are many, many traditions within the Christian Church that mark the entrance into the journey of Lent with the imposition of ashes and the humbling words, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

Traditionally, the week before Lent is a time to think about forgiveness—our own, and offering it to others who have harmed us, but I haven’t needed tradition to have forgiveness on my mind. God’s been bringing it up left, right and center.

And, frankly, I haven’t appreciated it one bit.

Forgiveness is a tough thing to talk about, especially because the process of forgiveness is often reduced to a simple formula: get over it and get on with it.

While God does tell us to forgive one another, the journey to forgiveness is often a long and winding road—one that leads through thickets of skin-catching bitterness and expanses of anger and denial before we find ourselves at the baptizing river of Life.

That’s why I’m grateful for writers like Janet Hagberg, who go well beyond the “forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us” and provide us a map for the journey into our own hearts of darkness, and out the other side into forgiveness and healing.

As she writes on her blog, At River’s Edge,

Forgiving may be the most difficult task in our lives. To forgive, we have to let go of our resentments, our need to be right or to be vindicated or to see justice done. Forgiveness moves us from justice to mercy. But once we have been wronged, our hurt urges us to seek revenge, or at least vindication. It is the human response. Only when we approach forgiveness as a calling, as a holy process that heals our souls, do we find an approach that really heals us.

In her wonderful reflection, which is worth reading in its entirety here, she talks about some of the signposts on the way:

• Telling our stories, but not getting stuck in them

• Taking responsibility for our part in the story

• Moving forward through the challenges of forgiveness

• Remembering not to forgive too soon

I know that I’m still in the middle of the long journey of forgiveness, but I feel God nudging me to move beyond telling my story to safe people, forward into taking responsibility and moving forward to find those healing waters that He has in store for me.

I don’t think that I’ll have this all together by the start of Lent this week, and I can feel myself trying to squirm away and sit in my own self-righteousness rather than doing the dark work of seeing my own sin in my story, but I’m sharing this with you not only to offer the resource, but to say that I don’t want to sit there any more. I want to be on the journey.

Maybe I’ll meet you there.

A Recommendation for Lent

A few folks have asked me to recommend a Lenten devotional or resource to guide them through Lent, as I did during the Advent season.

I’ve been thinking about that off and on, and today Sara Zarr beat me to it in this wonderful post on her blog. If Sara’s words aren’t enough to prompt you to pick up Paula Huston’s incredible Simplifying the Soul: Lenten Practices to Renew Your Spirit, well, I don’t know what to do with you.

But, if you really need another suggestion, I also recommend Bread & Wine: Readings for Lent & Easter.

Much grace & peace to you as we all turn toward the coming Lenten season.

 

Meet Kristin Ritzau

I first “met” Kristin Ritzau on the pages of her book, A Beautiful Mess: A Perfectionist’s Journey Through Self-Care (go buy it now, seriously). As I read, I discovered a kindred spirit, a young woman intent on living well and yet tired of the brutal violence done to her own soul in the name of “performance” or “perfectionism.” Not only was I delighted to find another director my age (the field is predominantly populated by those over 45), I was encouraged by the deft ways that she spoke truth and healing into the soul-numbing assumptions of our culture (both Christian and secular).

When I had the opportunity to meet Kristin in person at one of her A Beautiful Mess seminars, I discovered that all of my delight and encouragement has been well-placed. Kristin isn’t someone who just writes about the deep truths of the spiritual life—she lives them. In all the messy beauty of a life of intention, Kristin is full of grace, kindness and love. I’m excited and honored to introduce her to you.

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 Kristin Ritzau, and I am a recovering perfectionist who lives outside Los Angeles on an urban homestead.  Currently, I am an adjunct professor at Azusa Pacific University, but I am also an author, speaker, friend, wife, and chicken owner. 

What brought you to the ministry of spiritual direction?

I know it might sound funny to be a “recovering perfectionist,” but, seriously, spiritual direction brought me into recovery as someone whose life had always been measured by the expectations I thought everyone else had of me. Being burned out and tired all of the time were not ways I wanted to live anymore, but I didn’t know how to go about my life differently. As Henri Nouwen writes, burnout is not a sign that you are doingGod’s will.  And when I finally faced that reality, spiritual direction was my medicine.  I learned about spiritual formation in seminary and for the last six years have loved learning more and more about it by getting my certificate as well as attending week long contemplative prayer retreats every summer.  My soul now longs for this way of life and keeps me investing into spiritual direction.  

Why do you think spiritual direction is valuable?

To remember that I am not in control.  As someone who always thought I needed control to survive, the value of spiritual direction has been the discipline of continuing to die to my false self and constantly reemerge as more and more of the person God created me to be.  In the ministry I facilitate, A Beautiful Mess, it is my passion to create safe space for our authentic selves. Every season I see more and more need and value for these spaces—spaces where we can realize the beauty in the mess instead of trying to clean it up all the time.  Spiritual direction allows us to be ourselves with the comfort of the Spirit (and hopefully others) in a never-ending organic process with the Creator.  It’s invaluable!

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

The mystery.  Every time I lead an exercise or am with a person or writing, it is a wonderful mystery of what will emerge.  The peeling back of layer after layer can be painful, but honestly, it gives me so much hope to know that there is always more to unearth in myself and others and most of all of God.  The moments when stories, visions, and prayer click into place too—the “OH, that’s why this is connected to that!” moments—it is like a puzzle to which I might point out the border pieces, but working with others after we dump out all of the pieces out of the box and try to put it together in a new way, it is a joy like none other. 

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

Get asked: What is spiritual direction? What does a session look like?  Why do you do this?  I’m thinking of becoming a spiritual director—what do I do? 

Wish I got asked: To collaborate more—it can feel like lonely job sometimes because there is not always a centralized group around this burgeoning profession. I love doing this work, but I truly believe that together we are better, so I guess I have a question I’ve been pondering—how can we all support each other?  

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

Mysterious Journey.  However, that kind of sounds like a Dateline special that ends tragically… so maybe not….  

Give us your life story in 6 words.

Dysfunction. Trouble. Found. Deconstruction. Wonder. Bliss. (Repeat)

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

My perfectionism was fueled at an early age by feeling the need to be noticed to due a workaholic father and practically single mother who was worried about my chronically sick younger brother. Even though I grew up in a faith-based home, I truly didn’t understand the love of Jesus until I was in college.  It was there surrounded by a true community that I began to face my past and felt called to help others.  This led me to seminary shortly after getting married to my husband, Nathan.  We made our way to Los Angeles and were met with some hard realities of me becoming very sick, a new marriage, and job searches.  Those were hard times where I came face to face with the guilt and shame I carried for so long because I never felt like I was enough.  In facing those realities with a new community, my ministry, A Beautiful Mess was birthed out of this time with a group of women called to live authentically. Simultaneously, I was working with Student Life at Azusa Pacific University and fell in love with the educational process and creating safe space to learn and ask hard questions.  I saw this need in myself as much as I did in what God was calling me to do vocationally and recently became an adjunct professor to invest in a new way of exploration.  In our home life, this calling has led to planting most of our property with vegetables and raising chickens in our backyard.  We long to live a simple life, but that doesn’t mean easy, and I plan on exploring what this looks like in much more depth as I head back to school to begin a Ph.D. program in Theology and Spiritual Formation very soon. 

To learn more you can visit kristinritzau.com, I would love to hear from you! 

To find out about A Beautiful Mess and/or contribute to the site, check out abeautifulmess.org

Anything you’d like to add?

I appreciate what you’re building here, Tara.  Your collaborative spirit and authentic journey are examples to myself and others.  Thank you for making this space.  

* * *

Thanks, Kristin! I’m honored to be on the journey with you, and excited to explore together what those collaborative places and spaces are inviting us all into!

 

 

 

Link Love

There have been a number of wonderful articles and blog posts recently that I've wanted to share with you.

Here they are, in no particular order:

Welcoming Tenderness

A beautiful blog post by Christine Paintner that talks about making space for the parts of ourselves that we otherwise surpress. An invitation to tenderness.

Be The Person You Were Meant To Be

A reprint of an essay by Anne Lamott. The title says it all.

Prozac v. Jesus

A beautiful, honest reflection for those of us who struggle with depression.