Beauty Tips for Ministers

Food For Thought: Forgiving Our Own Trespasses

Sweetlings,

Let me depart from the world of crazy celebrity/royal fashion and eye cream recommendations for a moment to talk about self-care a bit.

I was talking with a newbie minister the other day who was being very hard on herself for “breaking the covenant” she had made with God to be healthy and especially to refrain from compulsive overeating.

As you know, PeaceBang knows PUH-LENTY about compulsive overeating, and about the struggles to keep from comforting oneself with an overly-full tummy.

This new pastor had had some particularly tough losses in the past months and was experiencing for the first time ministering when you’re feeling fragile and pulled in seventeen different directions, trying to meet too many people’s needs. She ate over it. Lots of sugar. And not only did she physically feel lousy, she felt like a sinner. We mulled over her decision to use the word “sin” to describe her overeating. Yes, technically it is a sin to do harm, even to oneself. But is that language helpful or harmful in this situation? She had chosen it intentionally because she wanted to think about her binge theologically. Which is a good place to start. What we do with our bodies is most certainly about our relationship to God and our understanding and experience of God’s presence or absence in our lives. We are all broken; we are all sinners. When we use the word “sin” to express the sense of our own brokenness, does that seem like condemnation or does it invite compassion and reconciliation?

I asked her, “If you had a friend who was hurting herself in some way because she was under so much stress, would you consider her a sinner?” As it turns out, no. She would have compassion for that hypothetical friend. She would try to support her.

The point here is pretty obvious but let me make it anyway: although it’s true that some clergy persons are sick little bundles of denial, engaging in secret, dysfunctional and destructive behaviors that will harm themselves and their congregations, my experience informs me that most of us are painfully aware of our failures, shortcomings and addictive tendencies and are, in fact, quite unforgiving about them. We are spiritual and professional perfectionists, many of us, trying not only to do the right things but to think the right thoughts and to have the right feelings. This is the aim of our spiritual disciplines — “God, make pure my heart within me” — “May my the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in Thy sight, O Lord my rock and my redeemer,” etc. Good God, kids, do you think the average investment banker, schoolteacher, hairdresser, waitress,retail clerk or engineer puts themselves through that kind of rigorous self-policing throughout the day? Hells no!

Pigeons, forgive yourselves. Put down the chocolate bar, the pizza, the pastries or whatever it is that plagues and poisons you, wipe off your mouth with a nice napkin, and move on. You can always flagellate yourself later, after you’ve had a nice long walk, a bath and a cup of peppermint tea. Why kick yourself when you’re down (or on a bad “up” from too much sugar, fat and carbs)? What good does that do you, and how does that honor your covenant with God?

I myself, after finally having hit the 20+ lbs. lost mark last Saturday, am having a bad week with food. And why wouldn’t I? The weather is dreary, I’ve been seriously crampy and headachy for days, my lower back hurts (I’m carrying tons of tension there but yoga poses are helping a lot), people I dearly love are terminally ill, in hospital with various other painful ailments and suffering other kinds of losses (and isn’t that always the case in parish ministry?). I’m post-Easter weary, I’m dreading my May sabbatical time (funny, in’t that?), I’m tired of being disciplined around food and I just want to eat huge bowls of Kashi cereal with dark chocolate chips in them. And so what. My job as I see it right now is to hang on to my little boat while the waves swell and crest, to weep freely as I need to, and to monitor my eating not for Weight Watchers compliance right now but just to assure that my eating doesn’t go from Tired Girl Indulging territory into Good Lord, All Hell Has Broken Loose and Now She’s Into Serious Buffalo Wing Abuse territory.

No, I won’t get to the gym today, either. I’ll get there tomorrow and both God and I will forgive me for it. If I gain a pound, that’s a trespass that can be forgiven, too.

Being beautiful, vibrant and polished as a public religious leader does not mean achieving perfection. It means being alive in God’s presence and unafraid to communicate that presence to a broken world. If today all you can manage is to lay your burden down and rest in God’s care, do it. You’ll know you need to when you find yourself too exhausted to apply mascara or to properly comb your hair. Be careful out there, my lovely ones. Attend to yourself as you would a visiting dignitary, with all due respect and hospitality. For if you do not, your psyche and your body will go out together for coffee without you and devise mischievous schemes to get your attention.

Put down the donuts, back away from the ciggies, get back to a 12-step meeting for over-spending, overeating, alcoholism, sex or drug addiction, stop being a superhero. Toss the M&M’s in the trash, smash the Doritos and run water over them, douse the ice cream with kosher salt. Unplug the phone, cancel a meeting, ask for help. Delegate, see your therapist, let God run the world for a day without you.

God has made a good gift in you. Love yourselves, forgive the sins, and move on. Better yet, move to the bed and take a nap.

Brother Michael Testifies: SKIN CARE DOES WORK!

Brother Michael was one who was looking a wee bit haggard and dark-circly under the eyes. And he saith,

Just a note to say that three days of proper facial care (including toner and moisturizer and eye cream, in addition to the witch hazel treatment) have already made a world of difference, and I haven’t even tried the makeup (though I will admit I bought some…we’ll see if I need it on Sunday). My congregation’s president said I “looked well-rested” when we met today–the first time she has ever said something like that.

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Thanks for letting us know, hon. And amen.

Easter You

Hello darlings,
It’s 12:35 and SweetieBang and I are still up — I just put finishing touches on my Easter Order of Service and he’s staring intently at the computer screen reading about dog obedience training. The cat is curled in a cat loaf on the arm of the couch. All is pretty well in our little world and I’m looking forward to attending Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services over the next days.

I said attending, and aren’t I the lucky one? It is not my congregation’s tradition to offer either of these services, so I get to be a worshiper this Holy Week before joining with my own dearly beloveds for Easter morning at my own congregation.

But I am thinking of those of you who will be very much on the run over the next few days and I simply want to say, please take care of your good selves. Please eat well, stay hydrated, wash your hands often, rest as much as you are able between public appearances, keep a fresh hankie on you at all times, be careful shaving (gents) and ladies, bring an extra pair of pantyhose for an emergency and a comfy pair of slippers to church to slip on in the privacy of your study.

Scrub under your nails every night, wash your face well and with care, don’t over-do the caffeine (let the Holy Spirit do more and you won’t need so much java), keep your hair clean and neat, and tuck a lip balm into your pocket. When you get a moment in the sacristy, sit up in a chair and take ten slow, deep breaths. Rub your hands together to warm them and cup them over your eyes. Take your vitamins. Shine your shoes. Check yourself in the mirror before you go out to wash feet tomorrow night. Even servant leaders don’t want to have spinach stuck between their teeth.

Remember that PeaceBang loves you, is praying for your strength and stamina during this very challenging week, and knows that you will bring the beauty and grace of God to all those you encounter.

You are the resurrection and the life! Hallelujah, pigeons!

Exercise Exorcise

Yesterday was sunshiny beautiful and just a dag-blammed TEASE for Spring-yearning Eastern Massachusetts. I’ve just finished a meeting with my student minister and have my work-out clothes all ready in the car to go get sweaty but it’s SNOWING NOW. Cold, serious, wet, driving snow and I DO. NOT. WANT. TO. GO. TO. THE. GYM!!!!

But I will, because I skipped it all last week and I felt like I was dragging even after my cold was well cured.

Where is God at the gym/treadmill/hiking trail/swimming pool/ski slope/racquetball court/dance floor for you?

For me, the Spirit comes as a joyful healer as I reach a steady cardio heart rate and the thoughts go, emotions go and I am just Being, just a creature working her muscles and tendons for the movement of it, for the chance to ignore inner strength for an hour or so and concentrate solely on external strength.

I have just learned that a deeply gifted minister of young middle age is leaving his church due to heart problems following a serious heart attack late this summer. I know that I am not alone in feeling crushed by this news –he is truly a gift to our movement, a charismatic and brilliant and funny and deeply spiritual man — not to mention so fit and health-conscious that one would have never imagined this prognosis for him. This is just further proof that, in case we had forgotten it, we are fragile and anything can happen.

Now the snowflakes are enormous and fluffy, each one practically the size of a moth ball. Holy cow.

Take care of yourselves, Incarnate Ones. Make sure to shake that groove thang soon, ’cause there’s more of value to your ministry than that space between your ears.

Clean Ze Brushes!! (When Ya Get a Sty In Ze Eye)

Just a reminder, my lovelies, to keep brushes and make-up applicators CLEAN.

PeaceBang has a little swollen eye just now, probably from a head cold that is GONE after 24 hours because of the magic of Neti Pot, Neti Pot, Neti Pot… I am a tireless evangelist for the wonders of the Neti Pot! Here, for your viewing pleasure is that scary, bug-eyed woman Neti-potting her nose, in case you haven’t seen it. The trick is to breathe through your mouth and to keep a box of tissues nearby. Neti Pot is The Answer!!
Twenty minutes pouring warm salt water through my very stuffy schnoz on Sunday morning until both nostrils were clear, and then again Sunday night when I felt as sick and exhausted as a cat left out in a storm, and then again on Monday morning, has left me healthy and fine, while SweetieBang’s cold is settling in his chest for a walrusy cough and more sinus honking — That is my TESTIMONIAL! Amen! But I digress.

Because I have this tiny swelling in my left eyelid I have made sure to
(a) avoid all eye make-up for a few days and
(b) throw out my possibly infected mascara and
(c) clean all my eye make-up brushes, including my eyelash curlers.

Origins makes a fine spray cleaner, but a mild shampoo will do as well. Wash your brushes and applicators in warm, soapy (shampoo-y) water and rinse. Blot on a clean towel, re-shape and lay flat to dry.

If you have a sty (and I’m not sure this is a sty — it’s a very minor swelling that may be a result of rubbing my itchy eyes a lot on Sunday), do NOT share towels and washcloths. Launder pillowcases in hot water and apply a warm compress to the eye when you can.

Neti Pot! Neti Pot! Clean brushes! Health and happiness! Many exclamation points!

Something To Look Forward To

SIGH, my powder pigeons, am I right?

Christmas is long gone and we’ve recovered. Easter is coming but we’re deeply into Lent and although the days are getting longer, we’re still… well… deeply into Lent. It’s not that we want to skip Lent, but Lent can be so Lent-y, and a girl can only spend so many hours a day in prayer, penitence and self-denial. The round of visits, meetings, newsletter columns, sermons, advocacy, rites of passage, potlucks, classes, continue unabated (thanks be to God) and although we might be dutifully taking care of ourselves in the most basic ways (eating well, resting enough, exercising, engaging in spiritual practice, getting out for some fun with friends/family now and then), we can feel in a bit of a rut, wearing the same four or five outfits every day, eating the same sandwich for lunch, and even thinking a lot of the same kinds of thoughts. We haven’t made a new recipe in eons, we haven’t put time aside to noodle on the piano (or banjo), we haven’t painted or thrown a pot since Advent, and we just know that our calendar won’t allow for any creative pursuits for awhile yet. It’s too early to garden, and although we’re grateful to God and mostly content, we just want a little zippy something to look forward to.

It’s when PeaceBang starts to feeling this way that she tries to breathe deeply and embrace the season, to listen to the same meditation music every night, stay the course, and to see God in the ordinary — but also to make sure she walks the fine line between Lenten interiority and just plain Drab Winter Doldrums carefully lest she tip over and get a whopping case of the blues. And therefore, somewhere between her mid-January birthday and Mardi Gras, she likes to tuck a few fun things away that she can pull out come early spring that will put a huge smile on her face and give her a little shot of the girlie joy. Yes, it’s materialistic and shallow, perhaps, but it’s also about celebration, hope and anticipation of warmer and sunnier days ahead.

This year, my Mardi Gras put-it-away-for-later-because-life-is-not-just-a-vale-of-tears purchase was made at the Dillards in Naples, Florida. You can blame Rali if you hate it — (mine is a bit of smaller print and has different, cuter buttons) — it was on major, major, major sale (like 70% off) and she convinced me that it looks great on me:

The other purchase was a small one, a little rock-and-roll girl eyeshadow by Urban Decay called Narcotic that is this exact color:

It looks good, I promise. Not as trashy and saucy as it does on her,
but dramatic and gorgeous for a date night out (not, for heaven’s sake, anywhere near church!).

These are my two little give-me-a-giggle fashion treats to look forward to. The fact that some friends just gave me a ukulele as a gift just adds to the glee. A UKLELE!! I am SO excited!! Of course I will happily play it like a 6-year old, but it’s a beautiful instrument, have you seen this exquisite video?

God knows ya gotta have some glee, children. PeaceBang thinks that glee can be worn by pastors, and should be, as long as they
know what they’re projecting, and are doing it with confidence, panache and a sense of whimsy. Go get you some glee.