angie dicken

Despicable Me.

Hypocrisy.

Hatred..

Weaponizing.

Tribalism.

Arrogance.

Demanding.

Elitism.

Stubborn.

Pride.

These are the things I try to weed out of my heart. These are the reasons I have stepped away from social media. I see it, I’ve been there, and I despise myself for slipping in and out of these as if they are okay…ever…in the right setting…in the right place and time.

NEVER.

Lord have mercy.

“…if we believe Christ is Risen, we must forgive all by His Holy Resurrection, we must forgive all and be reconciled with all…And so, we embrace one another in our hearts, those near us and those afar off, we embrace them with the love of Christ. We no longer have enemies, only brothers and sisters with whom we share the joy of our Risen Lord.”
Bishop Alexi

To Love Fiercely

To love fiercely is a mama navigating the dark, early hours to comfort her newborn.

To love fiercely is trying what’s best for a little one, even when there is no guarantee and exhaustion has set deep.

To love fiercely is doing what’s best for a child even if it doesn’t offer comfort—for babe or mama.

To love fiercely is letting go of a child’s hand so they can grow beyond home, depart from a mama’s watch, even for a little while.

And the little while grows long and wide and is filled with all sorts of life and heartache and joy and others…and it’s good, even when it doesn’t seem so in the moment…but the love is fierce and unwavering.

To love fiercely is a mama following her child following his dreams and trying to not take the lead—no matter how much distance he’ll gain ahead of her.

To love fiercely is letting go.

When it’s time.

When they’ve grown.

When all the fierce loving has navigated and tried and managed and the effort’s proven well.

And then…

Loving fiercely is watching her child disappear, leaving behind man-size footprints etched toward the horizon, and trusting he’ll come home again.

In that ripened time of accomplishing all a mother can control beneath her roof, even so, the mama’s heart is wretched most of all— for yet another babe is ready to dive into uncharted waters (uncharted for the mama, at least)—and grief and pride and love abounds.

Yet, doubt arises.

She wonders if she’ll ever rid herself of the ache.

But she’ll never shake the habit to love fiercely.

To love fiercely is who she is.

Love of Mother

Love cannot function without others. And from the very beginning—Love is fulfilled (for our witness) by His communion with humans.

There is no love in thinking and believing in doctrine or playing mental gymnastics. No love in knowing or imagining or waiting for heaven.

Love is in community. Love is a God who permeates throughout His creation, ever affecting it, ever inviting more and more humans to partake in His fullness.

Particularly, I have grown a deep reverence and unexplainable understanding of His Love in the example of the human He chose to be His mother.

I’ll admit, it sounds kooky to my old self—the person who thought that God was in the thinking, the convincing, the solo whisper of I believe. The history of the Church was cool, but only relevant by its ideas and how much I could twist and justify and verify.

I have even heard—and have muttered, I confess—Who cares who God chose to inhabit for 9 months? He could have chosen anyone—He’s God.

Lord have mercy.

He chose only one.

If I am thrilled by my loved ones to choose God, imagine being the One woman chosen by Him to bring about the most pivotal story in history?

Not just anyone.

Mary’s actual upbringing and pre-Christian life is fascinating, a story worth knowing. She wasn’t just an ordinary teenager. And she wasn’t the wife of Joseph as we imagine a “wife” to be.

The early church knew her story because she lived and breathed beside the apostles from the very foot of the cross forward. And she was not just someone, according to Apostolic tradition.

In its fullness, there is beauty told of a woman so in love with her God that she was given the privilege to love His Son as His mother. And she was not just one of His followers, but she was His one and only mother. His one and only flesh and blood on earth. The flesh and blood of God.

Her motherhood overwhelms me.

I know the fierce love I have for my sons.

And Mary’s son is God.

God’s Love abounds—from the beginning until the very end. Not one person should be minimized—especially not the Mother of our God.

As we enter the Fast of the Dormition of the Theotokos (God-Bearer or Mother of God), I wanted to share this ancient supplication—preserved from the 3rd century:

Beneath your compassion,
We take refuge, O Theotokos:
do not despise our petitions in time of trouble;
but rescue us from dangers,
only pure, only blessed one.

I will forever be grateful to Father Stephen Freeman and his insights into my faith—learn more on this topic here

Why I Speak Out

Once, I stood amid a crowd of people fighting for a cause—a broad, urgent need that was the main root of a whole network of thought and opinion, all growing inspiration for the same hope in change.

Yet, a tiny voice inside me urged, take care to not stray past north. And my north, my faith, doesn’t fit perfectly in the reactions of thought and opinion that grows from that fierce, passionate calling.

I could see some entanglements with weeds that could choke out the light. The bitterness, for one, coursing through the outcries of others, shook my internal compass

And a tiny voice said:

“Let all bitterness, wrath, anger, clamor, and evil speaking be put away from you, with all malice.”

Those guttural reactions were not for me, although I confess, I am not innocent from such behavior.

But in that moment, I knew, God is everywhere, and I was certain that He could handle the weeds. And I didn’t betray my calling by mirroring the unbecoming reactions, and I continued on in solidarity because I knew what was right and important.

As I look back on my participation that day, I realize that the deeper cause calling me was the greatest commandment of all—to love God and love others.

Christ’s example demands me to put people first, beyond principalities and social leanings. In spite of these flawed constructs and the naysayers.

And my faith is my guide in every encounter, and it tells me that love is above all of it.

So…

If I have the faith to move mountains and do not love, I am nothing. If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.”

And if I walk away from fighting for the least of us because of misconceptions, loose tongues, and human judgment, then I just can’t bear to think of the bitterness that will grow inside me.

A Hidden Place to Pray

We almost missed it.

Transfiguration of Our Lord Chapel in Sister Bay, WI

The little marker on the side of the road caught our eye because of the face of Christ staring from behind the leaves. We knew the little chapel existed, but there was no giant sign or paved parking lot. The simple visitors welcome, whispered to any passerby and invited them to an experience almost other-worldly.

Hardly, in this busy life, does a simple garden path dappled in sunlight seem the only place I want to be and sometimes, it’s the only place my heart desires, even before ever experiencing it, but I crave it and know I will not find it in my busyness.

My family and I journeyed the short distance from the humble marker, down a well-marked path, across a quaint bridge, and into a chapel with the people of God pictured all around. Lord-have-mercies chanted gently in our ears, and the familiar beeswax candles and bowls of sand beckoned us to light new flames that represent our own souls participating in the holy quiet.

I love the ways of the saints—their knowing eyes and honored stories. I love the sacred spaces that are so full of color and light and incense, reminding me that God made us to commune in all aspects of His Creation—in the life, the breath, and the matter.

And this sanctuary in the woods we stumbled upon from a busy vacation to light a candle and pray—this quiet place might just look like a human heart as it should be—connected to the body of Christ, bearing a light and a song. Remembering Who God is and how much He loves His people.

I am certain it is so.

What carved out space or piece of art has brought you to a sense of reflection?

A New Direction

Dear Reader,

I am breaking my social media habit. Grief has set in because I know I’ll miss out on my loved ones’ life updates and all the good things about that communal space. But, the breathings of my heart turn sour in the incessant scrolling past horrible things, and I know the only way out is to cut it off.

Yet, there is no life without sharing, because I do believe that community is important. And I want this space here–void of horrible things–to be a place to commune, to converse, and to continue my calling of crafting words to connect to others.

Looking forward to this journey.

Angie

True Worship

Yesterday, I sat in church for the first time.

Not really.

But if a worship service is truly about worshipping God, then it might have been a time of only few for me.

Over the past forty + years, somewhere along this Christian walk, I have made my experience of church about me. My lens of worship has often been self-focused—where I search and seek for the a-ha or the conviction or the answers to my own life circumstances. Instead of worshipping God alone, I end up worshipping the possibility that God might show up for me.
Not that He won’t or that reflection is wrong, but what I have discovered is that I lean heavily on my side of this “personal relationship”.

Of course, the fact that the details of my life are known to the God of the Universe affirms a certain beauty of Faith, but my worship time appears to be an individualist pursuit. Culture for the win.

Isn’t true worship a selfless adoration of God alone?

Do I ever worship without the thoughts of unanswered prayers in my mind? Without an emotional response wrapped up in my own lens of what God does for me?

The thinking trips me up. I start to measure a good church experience according to how much I hash out in my brain, when I suspect the value of worship lies in the prostrations of my heart. Only for God. Not because of what He does for me or has the power to do, just because He is God. And worshipping Him is my greatest purpose.

I sat in church yesterday, and I tried focusing on God, finally. To truly be present for Another is a tough heart-conditioning in this culture of the individual. There is an unraveling and rewiring that must happen. I think I have only gotten one tangle out. But I am thankful for the chance, each day, to keep working out of myself, instead of constantly focusing on the thinking inside my head.

What My Daughter Needs to Know About Drama

Can we talk about drama? And I don’t mean the kind that captured my heart in high school, when I transformed into a character on stage. I am talking about a different kind of drama—found in high school too…but oh, so not fun in any way.

I have a tween girl. And knowing this time was coming, I’ve quietly anticipated the drama I’m talking about.

All you moms of girls know that drama is a real issue among our daughters. For those of you who don’t have this in your every day, it’s basically the interactions that stir up an us vs. them mentality among peers, initiates sneaky backbiting whispers, sends dirty looks, and inflates ever-destructive gossip.

One might think it’s easily avoidable. But it’s not. Because I don’t just see it among little girls in classrooms, I see it among adults all the time. I see it in all sorts of places. It’s no wonder impressionable kids absorb the need to practice drama in their own lives, especially if it’s abundant in the world of those they look up to.

My consistent piece of advice since my tween hit double digits is “if there’s drama, walk the other way”. But, a recent bout of drama sent my daughter into tears, then into anger, then into wanting to prove she has enough friends that one lost friendship wouldn’t bother her. And while I was super impressed with her willingness to show her resilience to the “drama”, I was also conflicted by her fierce attitude of payback.

Uh…maybe I need to have a few more bits of advice at the ready. Because ‘walking away’ isn’t always easy when you’re dragged into it…or unintentionally play a role in the mess.

I’ve been considering a few more things I will play on repeat until she’s grown:

👉 Kindness doesn’t mean giving your heart away. It’s a response, not a surrender. But it is absolutely necessary all the time. Has meanness ever ended drama? Nope.

👉Saying sorry is important if you did something wrong. Even if you don’t get a sorry back for what they did wrong (and don’t wait for their apology…move on, darling…move on).

👉Be the good. Be aware of the bad but continue to be the light you’ve been created for.

👉Yes, words break hearts, don’t let them break your spirit. You are wonderfully made. And, in fact, those girls are too. They just made mistakes.

👉Some friendships are for a season. Some aren’t meant to be. That’s okay. You have your people. Pray they’ll have theirs.

👉Always talk to Mom. She’s been there. Done that. She can see through most facades at this point. And most of all she loves you more than you’ll ever realize.

❤️❤️❤️

Fortunately, the drama resolved itself by apologies and reconciliation this time. But I realized my job is far from settling down with my fourth child a year away from teen-hood. It’s just ramping up to a whole new ball game. Not the sports-centric, competitive type of my boys…but the heart-ripping, esteem-teetering, heart-hardening warning signs for my daughter.

I am up for the challenge–not only to protect her, but mostly, to equip her in a life-giving way.

Moms, do you have any advice you’d add to my list?

A Snippet of Truth

Truth: I have more grace for others than myself.

My inner critic is at an all time high right now. I keep considering what I said and how it was taken, and maybe I should remove myself from situations where I can talk. 😂
But I don’t think shrinking back from community is the right move. That’s what we were made for. This lone leaf looks full of life for the moment, but it won’t last long without the larger whole it was once connected to.

Pushing myself to get beyond my thoughts and continue to allow myself to connect…regardless of my ridiculous flaws.

Jude’s Advice

Sometimes, my scrolling takes me by surprise, and I stumble upon ideas and controversy that leave me unsettled and floundering.

How can an opinion hold so much power in my heart?

I struggle so deeply with this, it keeps me from peace many times. And I am sure, I’ve pushed people away with my own rash opinion too.

Words can destroy and tear down. I have realized how powerful words can be—especially when riddled with fear. Fear wields all sorts of missteps in my intent and witness.
I cringe at the opinions that flow so quickly from my tongue, not even knowing the full truth of the matter—but a bolster of fear has me do it.
I wobble, I shake, and I lose my footing of a Holy faith.

Only by Love do I steady myself again…only by knowing that any word pales in the Word that saves.
I am thankful for this advice in Jude when we’re faced with grumblers, complainers, divisions (mentioned before this verse). There is great freedom in building up beyond the division and knowing where mercy is truly found.

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