When I was growing up, the Sunday school children who were celebrating their birthdays in the upcoming week knelt at the altar rail for a special blessing by the priest. The priest would lay his warm, big hands on my head and ask God to “bless and guide me as my days increase; to strengthen me when I stand; comfort me when discouraged or sorrowful and raise me up when I fall.” What an amazing request: that God would pick me up if I fell down. Boy, that would help matters! I was so hopeful that God really would pick me up if I fell down. I hoped my brother and sisters would be there when it happened so they could see how much God loved me. I hoped I’d remember to say “Thank You” afterward and to be charming and memorable when we finally met.
Then I wondered why God hadn’t picked me up off the ground up to this point in my life if that’s what gods were supposed to do. I wondered if I had to fall in a terrible manner before God would take time out of (his) busy day to help me to my feet. Maybe I had to fall down a cliff and get snagged in a crag or something equally dramatic dramatic to warrant such extraordinary divine attention. After all, I had seen the picture of God’s son taking care of that lamb. I wondered if lambs were more worthy of God’s help than little girls like me who usually fell down because I was doing something stupid. Like running around the pool deck when I had been told many times that it was dangerous. Or falling out of a tree because I grabbed a limb that only a novice tree-climber would think could hold them. Or I was reading a library book while walking in line back to homeroom and tripped over a break in the sidewalk. I figured little girls fell and hurt their knee, elbows, and bottoms or their pride because they weren’t good girls. Lambs, on the other hand, seemed like innocent victims of circumstance. They just put their heads down and focused obediently on the task of munching grass when the ground suddenly disappeared beneath them. In my understanding, the lamb was in this precarious position because the shepherd had been negligent and not adequately supervised snack-time. God chose to intervene then because it was a matter of justice; a matter of restoring the balance. 
God never did pick me up like I wanted. And I fell a lot. Although mostly, other than scraped skin, the only thing that got hurt was my pride. That got bruised a lot. The only thing that helped my bruised pride was time and that didn’t work all the time. I still feel my face get warm remembering when I rode my bicycle straight into the back bumper of a car parked on the street curb. I had been looking intently to to the side at the tennis courts of the Pierremont Oaks to see if the love of my childhood was teaching a class. Unfortunately, he was. And my stomach still gets tight when I drive over the Horace Wilkinson Bridge to Baton Rouge. That’s the location of my first big-girl fall.
I had to drop out of college in October of my junior year because of clinical depression. For weeks I had been able to do nothing but lie in my bed and cry while my friends looked on in confusion and frustration. Eventually, the school authorities called my mother who had to drive the four hours from Shreveport to get me and my stuff and to help me officially withdraw from the university due to medical disability – sub-categorized “mental health issues.” I was told I wouldn’t be able to return within a certain time frame without a psychiatric evaluation. As Mom and I were driving over that bridge, the shame of it all filled my stomach. I was crazy! I was certifiable! I was a loser! I had failed. And everyone would now know that I couldn’t manage what was expected. Where the hell was God now I wondered? Surely God could expend a little divine energy to set things right for me. Because, frankly, it did seem to me a matter of justice.
Prior to this depression I had become a fanatic of (His) Son. I had prayed the prayer of salvation. I had been re-baptized to get the immersion experience. I had prayed the Prayer of Salvation and followed the Roman Road. I had studied the Four Spiritual Laws and led numerous people to Christ. And now, when I’m in this much pain, couldn’t God bother to show up and pick me up? Really? What more did I have to do or be to be considered worth His time? 
I am so human. And I hate that. But, I’m trying to learn to manage that disappointment. I’ve been trying to learn that since that day driving over the Horace Wilkinson bridge. The day I exposed my human-ness to my sorority sisters. It’s been over twenty-five years now. A lot more people have found out I am human. When I’m not trying to keep that a secret, I feel free. Free to be me. I eventually went back to college and did real well. I think I made A’s in part because I was free to fail since I knew I could survive it. God still hasn’t ever picked me up like I’ve always wanted — but I do get up. It just isn’t with ease or with grace or very quick. Have you ever seen a middle-aged, out-of-shape, never-ever snow skier try to right herself on a slope for the first time? Then you get the picture. It’s not a divine look if you’ll pardon the saying. Next time you have an opportunity, watch the adult never-evers on a bunny slope. And then ponder this: “God came down and was incarnate and made man” – just like that flailing fool in the powder blue parka. That makes me ROTFLMAO.
I feel free to laugh with my foibles because I take my freedom to be me very seriously. I take my freedom from depression with tremendous gratitude. I don’t always love my process but it is my process. It is a process that has taken me to where faith was not an experienced reality; to a place where I could do nothing but wait to see if God would pick me up. 
“Free To Be Me,” Francesca Battistelli
Reflection based on Center for Action and Contemplation series “Freedom”
- How has grace brought me freedom?
- How does one trust God’s process?
- What is free will to me?
- What experiences of love have set you free?
Sarah Bennett is an Episcopal priest in the Diocese of Texas. She is an avid evangelist of social media and honest, authentic conversations of the spiritual journey. Gregg and I have been married 24 yrs with "narry a ripple in the sea of matrimony." We have a daughter, Megan (22) and a son, Gregg (20). I am an Episcopal priest exploring the theological and ecclesiological implications of social networks. Read more from this author
I had never seen your web site before….I read “Free to Be Me”…… I felt it….I was with you….I needed to read that….thank you! You are way to wonderful for me not to get to see you more often! Looking forward to this coming Friday.
Sarah,
I read it. I am sure lots of folks will like it, and it is honest and well written. I didn’t reply on the blog at first (but now am) because I am packing to take the kids to camp in the AM and have SO much to do in the next hour or so that I can’t think straight. However, I really do feel compelled to make a few comments back to your heartfelt blogging: The writing is, as I said, refreshingly honest and ‘easy access.’ If someone didn’t even know you, they’d want to talk to you and would feel no barrier, I think, from just opening up, Sarah.
If someone read it who didn’t know you, which is what I think happens with blogs, though I’m not really sure, I think that they would have a VERY different impression of who you are than I do. Meaning, I seriously doubt that they would think you are an Episcopalian priest doing the writing. I found it a very hard thing to read over and over again that “God never did pick me up,” and then “God never has picked me up like I wanted” etc etc. It actually sounds like you are complaining about him never making good on the Priest’s blessing that you received as a kid? Do you really think that God has never been there or are you just being provocative? I ask this because it is bothersome to me to keep replying, as a person of Faith (since a Priest is supposed to be a guide for others in this Faith), that GOD NEVER ANSWERED THAT BLESSING and has to this day never lifted me up when I’ve fallen.
Hogwash. Malarky. Come on…why even write that? It focuses all of your attention and ours on a self-centeredness that is unhealthy. We are here to serve, not to be served. We must focus ourselves outward, not inward. We are called to that outward focus to help others and to bring Him glory, not the other way around.
This next part is important because it answers the question, “Why are we here?”. This is the Principle and Foundation, written by Saint Ignatius, the Founder of the Jesuits: “Human beings are created to praise, reverence, and serve God our Lord, and be means of doing this save their souls. The other things on the face of the Earth are created for human beings to help them in the pursuit of the end for which they are created. From this it follows that we ought to use these things to the extent that they help us toward our end, and free ourselves from them to the extent that they hinder us from it. To attain this it is necessary to make ourselves indifferent* to all created things, in regard to everything which is left to our free will and is not forbidden. Consequently, on our own part we ought not to seek health rather than sickness, wealth rather than poverty, honor rather than dishonor, a long life rather than a short one, and so on in all other matters. Rather, we ought to desire and choose only that which is more conducive to the end for which we are created.”
* The word “indifferent” does not translate the thought of St. Ignatius well. In English indifferent is most often understood as apathetic or disinterested. For Ignatius, the term indifference means that I seek to be free (detached) to follow the Lord’s call. His call differs in the various moments of my life. For example, I should always seek health, and I should always seek to be an honorable man. I should always use my talents well. But should my health fail and nothing can be done to improve it, then I trust the Lord and pray to know that His desires for me are for my good. And the same applies to all other things. It may also happen that I feel a special call from God to give away my wealth and live a more simple life. It is then that I must listen to God’s true voice and decide what the call may mean. I should always seek direction in such cases. Few of us attain the fullness of relationship as it is described in the Principle and Foundation, which St. Ignatius saw as the ideal. We pray in our lives that we may more and more live this relationship with God.
These are my thoughts about your thoughts, Sarah. You wrote, “God never this and God never that…” How about, “I never realized it was Him, ever time, lifting me up, exactly like the priest had said He would in the blessing. It has come true every day of my life, and FOR THAT, I am here to…INSERT PRINCIPLE AND FOUNDATION NOW from above.” That is a healthier way of thinking, and one that will bring us much more happiness, less wayward days, and more importantly, more direct access to the God whom we are here to serve and praise every day of our lives.
Sincerely, Wes
I haven’t commented before because I’m not ready to be as open to all who would read it as you are. Also, some of the commentors on the facebook and this site are more articulate than I, so I feel self consious. I don’t even know if I can spell correctly. I feel more comfortable talking to you for hours on the phone. OK, I know that’s not the point of this blog but that’s where I’m coming from. We are of a different generation which is not to use as an excuse for not being able to change and grow but as a little explanation.
Isn’t it funny how self-conscious we all are? You are my mother. The one who has been my grammar police all my life. You are probably the most articulate person I know. And, your comment is very enlightening. I never would have guessed that’s why you wouldn’t comment. I would have thought that I had perhaps offended YOU by being so transparent. Also, I don’t think that many people who know you will be reading this blog so “Julia Shoup” won’t mean much to most. Please keep trying; you’re the best; and you have already proven yourself to be one who doesn’t believe age lets you off the learning/growing hook.
The walking and the falling isn’t over … nor is my relationship with God. Why should yours?
The complexity of knowledge, feelings and faith is a recipe often over simplified and packaged in a way that can seem like a “just add holy water and stir” kind of biscuit. It looks, smells and tastes like a biscuit, but (God knows) everything made from scratch (and from the heart) has a flavor that makes one want to return for more.
Sarah, nice biscuits. Smells like the real thing…and I’d love another.
-e
real nice
Sarah,
You’ve dared to break open a few eggs and add the honest ingredients for a great omelette here. This is good stuff. I was reminded of the prayer of self dedication as I read it. That bit about ’so align our wills that we may be wholly thine and utterly dedicated’ springs to mind. We are called into partnership.
Your imagery of getting up from a ski fall is an apt one. There’s no way that anyone can pick anybody up from a ski fall if they don’t participate.
I see that you based the reflection on something from Richard Rohr–my favorite. His series on Paul is subtitled “Life as Participation”. When we dare to get up, as you so clearly write, we participate. Not simply in our own lives, but in the very life of God which seeks expression in each of us.
Yesterday’s text from 2 Corinthians rings in my ears, “my grace is sufficient for you.” That’s a good thing! Because it’s clear that you understand that your grace isn’t and neither is mine!
Good stuff Maynard! Like Eric, I’m wanting more.
–Warren
I loved reading this blog, Sarah. I feel like I understand a big piece of you and your writing is truly honest and heartfelt. I love your acceptance and feeling of freedom to be yourself and I think others will benefit from hearing your thoughts and stories.
This is what I’d like to know: In light of what you have experienced and lived since you heard the priest’s blessing as a child until now (when you are that priest, incidentally), do you have a different understanding of that message? What does it mean that God picks us up when we fall? And how do you understand the times when we are stuck on the ground for a while (Help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!)? I love your stories, and I’d also love to know how and what you are learning from them.
Keep it up, can’t wait for more.
-Catherine
Wow, that’s the kind of response that makes you sit up and take notice!
In light of experience/living since … do I have a different understanding? Yes. My little girl brain heard a very, very literal promise. One that would completely contradict all the laws of nature and and god knows how many other laws! But even though my worldview grew and my cognitive abilities developed, my heart’s longing didn’t change much at all. I still want to be lifted up, held warmly, tears wiped dry, mecuricromed and bandaged and my cheek kissed. These are such tangible acts and create such intimate connectedness and empathy. Obviously, God can’t (or won’t) be so tangible and physically present. But, Catherine, that’s what my heart desires. My grown-up understanding? the metaphorical promise? is less awe-some in many ways. I think it means that I don’t get to be as helpless and needy as a child. I think it means I have to be responsible for doing my part to get myself up. I think God’s role might be in the love of other people who help me through. Maybe it is Gregg’s extraordinary patience, or my sisters’ knack of making me laugh my head off, or watching your bravery and courage when you fell so profoundly in that car wreck. Then, I am awe-struck at how much I might have missed if God had come to my rescue too quickly. I might have missed that it is much, much more awe-some when God works through the ordinary, every day encounters I have with folk like you.
Hi Sarah,
Interesting endevour. Bill Moyer’s Journal (my favorite liberal talk show) had a trio of theologians from Union College on last Friday. Normally this would cause me to hit the delete button, but I didn’t. Turned out to be a very relevant (read non-traditional) religious conversation with one thread being “post Christian” society – point being that religions like all things evolve or die. If the tone of that discussion were the tone of mainstream religiousity, hell, I might even go to church. Perhaps social media like your blog will be a vehicle for that evolution??
My gut reaction to your post: The first thing that strikes me is you seem to have beaten yourself up for many years as a result of childhood brainwashing. Do religions do this to their children because they know the symbolism and mythology won’t be internalized as fact once people reach the age of critical thinking? I remember at 10 years old thinking “this stuff sounds like flying reindeer to me”. Consequently I can’t embrace the “corporate theology” on offer at every steet corner. Luckily there are many ways to integrate the spiritual into one’s life and live a moral, guilt-free, happy life.
Anyway, give yourself a break. There is no metaphysical answer. Stuff happens. Turns out family and friends are the actual proxy for “God” when it comes to a helping hand.
OK, end of my secular humanist ranting. Good luck with the blog. You’re forever one of my favorite people.
Cheers,
Trey
ps. I can’t spell – sorry in advance.
Thanks for the insightful and kind words to Sarah, Trey. I totally agree that we beat ourselves up far too much because of our superego’s early programming on what is “right” or what is a “good” or “successful” person. I imagine we all struggle in giving ourselves a break a lot more than we realize – after all, we want to “be all that we can be” and when we’re not we let ourselves down. I propose a new day for us all to observe: Give Yourself A Break Day! (wasn’t that a McDonalds commercial? Was Ronald McDonald visionary?)
Oh my gosh, Sarah, it’s working! I am so tired but just have to say how much I loved these responses.
Wow! WOW! So, I think I have to comment as a parent here as opposed to a grown-up woman who has certainly felt some of the same things as you though from the other side of the coin. Reading about your childhood struggles over waiting for G-d to pick you up when you fell was very sad and painful. And, Trey’s comments really hit home for me. In my Jewish upbringing, I was taught that it’s my responsibility to ask the tough questions and also to seek the answers myself, not to rely on my G-d to provide them. I remember feeling a bit cheated by that, especially during my 8th grade Sunday School year where we studied other religions and visited several different churches, and I heard in several of them how you just have to ask G-d or Jesus for help or forgiveness, and it’s yours! Why did the Christians have it so easy? Why did we Jews make it so tough on ourselves? That’s a 14-year-old brain at work! As I’ve gotten older, studied more, lived life with people of many, many religious backgrounds, I’ve realized that to be human is to experience pain, happiness, depression, unrest . . . all of it (well, at least most of it) comes to all of us at one time or another, in varying degrees, and we can choose to deal with it or curl up into a ball and wait for intervention, either from a divine source or a parent or a friend or a doctor or a substance. Yes, sometimes the bad stuff is more than we can handle or something funky is going on with our chemistry – thank goodness for professionals and pharmaceuticals in those situations! – but I truly believe that, most of the time, we have the power within ourselves to figure things out. That’s G-d to me. That ability, that inner strength, to rely on ourselves to be the best human we can be, on more days than not (we all slip up from time to time), and to put whatever gifts we brought with us out into the world. And, that’s the religion I try to teach to my children – that *they* have the power to live whatever life they want, and that *they*, ultimately, bear responsibility for the choices they make along the way. I can guide them, point them in what I consider to be the right direction, but the path they choose is *their* path. Hopefully, they’ll choose a path that brings them more happiness than sadness, more fulfillment than frustration, more elation than depression, more love than hate.
Sarah, Your writing is so amazing. I can only comment that your way with words thrills my heart. Rosemary and I think you should pen a book. As for questions about your website and such, I’m not too savvy about that.
I rattling thankful to find this web site on bing, just what I was searching for : D besides saved to my bookmarks .