Finding God In All Things
Fragmented Parts + A Faithful Saint in A Yellow Shirt
Holy curiosity has been shaping my days in such beautiful ways as I’ve journeyed with Hues & Q’s, the psycho-spiritual practice I crafted for our monthly pilgrimage here at One Sacred Question. It is truly transforming my attentiveness and attachment1 to God, guiding me in a reclamation of wonder and curiosity in my day-to-day life. As I’ve journeyed with this prayer practice over the past five months, I’ve noticed that my heart-pace has slowed and my gaze has softened as color and question have taken me by the hand and invited me to see beyond the often sharp edges of my own understanding and frenetic pace. These colors and questions that emerge from the landscape of my life are touchpoints of conversation with God tucked into ordinary moments, meeting my eyes and heart in surprising and revelatory ways.
It has been such a gift to my heart to see you all share pictures and stories of the ways God is weaving a story of presence into your unique lives!
July’s One Sacred Question: Doesn’t she light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it? Luke 15:8 Read more here.
July’s Sacred Question Color: Yellow
If you’re new here, Ignatian spirituality is woven into the fabric of this community as a pathway of curiosity and connection in daily life. The heart of Ignatian spirituality is learning to find God in all things and in all seasons, and in this community—all questions and colors too! To learn more about Ignatian spirituality, you can read the first installment of Signposts & Seasons here.
These Ignatian-inspired reflections are an unraveling of those questions and colors in my ordinary life, offering you a glimpse of what it might look like for color and curiosity to frame the edges of your own days.
Finding God In All Things: An Ignatian-Inspired Reflection
Inner Movement of the Soul— Spiritual Consolation
On Sunday, my children and I attended church with my sister and nephews while visiting them for the weekend. Both of my children (old enough to know better, mind you) made choices during the service that were less than ideal. Parents, I know we’ve all been there and that all of our children have been there (yes, even the ones who know better), and yet image management immediately rose to the surface, along with its faithful crew—fear, anger, and control. Flustered and embarrassed, anxiously awaiting some sign of the ending of the service, I felt myself slipping into the lands of interior exhaustion.
Lord, I don’t want to be here right now.
These parts2 of myself have been with me for a long time. Image management has deep roots for me—beginning in my own childhood. When I became a mom, nobody prepared me for how much of the journey would be learning to untangle the deeply embedded patterns of my childhood from my mothering. Throw in a chronic neuro-hormonal disorder and late diagnosed neurodivergence, and it’s safe to say that it has been an interesting ride.
I’ve engaged in a lot of deep interior exploration over the past several years and yet these places still greet me from time to time, reminding me of my limitations and need for Christ. The goal isn’t to pretend that I’ve somehow crossed the other side, leaving these parts behind and arriving to some abstract version of myself that is completely detached from all the threads and realities of my life. It’s to continue to be honest about these parts when they do show up, redirecting them to their rightful place within the ongoing tapestry that is the transformation and redemption of my life in Christ.
In the beginning of my journey of motherhood, the weight of this image management (amongst other challenges) crushed me—and my children. When I begin to think about the growth and new life in our family that has sprouted from places of deep despair, I am immeasurably grateful.
Along the way, I’ve learned to check in with Jesus when these parts show up and I begin to slip into old thought patterns. I ask a simple question to break up the cacophony of interior noise and reorient my gaze toward His—Where are you in the room with me, Jesus? It’s a question that my spiritual director has asked frequently over the past few years and one that has integrated naturally into the language of my heart. At times, I have an immediate felt presence of where He is. Other times, such was the case on this day, His presence is illuminated in hindsight.
As the final hymn was sung and the final prayer was prayed, I literally felt the tension in my body start to unravel. Get me out of here, Lord. But before I could slip out and reprimand my children, an elderly man in a yellow shirt (hello, sacred question color), glancing my way and smiling softly, waved me down and walked my way, greeting me with these words,
Ma’am, I was sitting behind you and the Spirit led me to encourage you this morning. I saw you and your children, and I want you to know that it was an encouragement to me to see you all this morning. I know children can be squirrelly at times, but it was a blessing to me to see them here with you today.
Tears instantly filled my eyes and a moment of desolation melted into the Spirit’s consolation.
Behind me. That’s where Jesus was in the room with me, keeping steadfast watch over me and my children through the eyes of a faithful saint in a pale-yellow shirt.
He wasn’t recoiling at my children, wishing they could just pull it together for an hour. He wasn’t angry that after 9 years of motherhood I still struggle with image management at times.
He was waiting.
He was watching.
Coming to find us.
Coming to gather these fragmented parts that have journeyed with me for so long into His steadfast presence and care.
My sister later told me that the man’s name was Foster.
The name Foster means one who provides care.
A saint in a yellow shirt. A question rising to the surface. And the care of God expressed through both.
Doesn’t she light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it?
Yes.
Yes, He does.
Dear reader, we are all in process. While at times that truth can be revealing, exposing the limitations of our control and fragile humanity, there remains One who is committed to staying with us in our becoming. He does not chase us to the end of our limitations, pointing His finger because we should know better, but gently guides us to the softer edges of his limitlessness, reorienting our eyes toward His gentle gaze and welcoming us Home to the greater truth that holds all things together:
We are deeply known and deeply loved.
Like a woman who lights a lamp, sweeps the house, and searches carefully for that which is lost, He is committed to finding every fragile and wandering part of our heart, every fragmented part of our story, and every wound, struggle, and sin, gathering it up from the dust of our house, restoring our identity, and stringing it back together into a garland of praise, “redeeming our life from the pit, and crowning us with steadfast love and compassion” (Psalm 103:4).
What might still feel lost and fragmented within you?
How might God be inviting you to follow His gaze toward the softer edges of His limitlessness in your own life? What might you find there?
To learn more about Ignatian spirituality and see more snapshots + reflections on how each sacred question and color weaved a story of presence throughout each month, check out the first installment of Signposts & Seasons.
*stained glass window photo from unsplash
You can read more about attachment with God in this post. Hues & Q’s is a Spirit led blend and spin on spiritual object constancy + color therapy. I was familiarized with the concept of spiritual object constancy in Summer Joy Gross’ beautiful book The Emmanuel Promise: Discovering the Security of a Life Held by God. Summer is a wealth of wisdom, and her book +work have deeply shaped me. I highly recommend!
From the concept of parts work in Internal Family Systems, a therapeutic model. You can read more about that here. Dr. Molly LaCroix , LMFT, DMin writes at the intersection of Internal Family Systems and Christianity. Her book Journey to Shalom: Finding Healing, Wholeness, and Freedom in Sacred Stories is another book I highly recommend!
This is a lovely contemplative reflection and such a practical way of being met by the love of Jesus when you so needed it! Thank you Lahni.
I guess Foster wasn't an angel if your sister knows him. But I often thing sometimes at some moments that these people God puts there in these sort of circumstances may actually be angels.