Spiritual Growth Archives | Mercy Me! I've Got Work to Do

Growing Like a Weed: Time to Slow Down

July 19, 2023lpatangan

Hi all~ Some of the best memories I have of being a kid are from all of the freedom that came from empty summer days. Wandering around the neighborhood, time wasn’t measured by a clock but by the streetlights that told us when to return home. Ordinary days were made precious by the absence of agenda. Here’s a little reminder to schedule a few days like that for yourself this summer! ~ Love, Lara

While trying not to get killed by drivers who are such avid readers that they peruse their cell phones at 70 miles per hour on the highway, a patch of weeds caught my eye. Tall Y-shaped weeds with black pepper-like seeds that flourish on overgrown lawns overwhelmed me with a surprise rush of nostalgia.

I’m not sure why weeds invoke memories of my childhood but suddenly I longed for the hot summer days of emptiness that I associate with neglected turf. It hardly seemed like anything worth missing, yet neither did all the ordinary moments of youth which were more notable for their familiarity than anything fantastic.

There was something about the monotony of long days without schedules or supervision that captured time. For us children, it was ours. All of it. In the long stretches of daylight that marked the summer season, time stopped being a series of moments or a rhythm of routines. Time stopped being a watched clock; a metric of accomplishment. It ceased to be a threat that marked life’s passing. Time was merely vast space where we grew in communion with the weeds unperturbed and oblivious to expectations or the flamboyance of the flower. We didn’t need to be more and we didn’t need to have more.

Summer was a time when sticks were treasured for their versatility and a shallow stream or puddle of rainwater had no depth to the ways it could entertain us. The inevitability of stepping in ant beds and skinning knees; the passions of play; and the pangs of hunger from being so engrossed in imagination that we merely forgot to eat; all felt quite unremarkable. Boredom was a great inventor and the unstructured hours of empty days made it possible to create anything.

There was so much of everything in those days of nothing. Of course, I didn’t know that then.

All of it feels like such a stark contrast to life now where information whizzes at us faster than the cars on the highway; where we get pinged with reminders of where to be and what to do; where we are pestered by the constancy of trying to maximize time; of somehow trying to immortalize it with the vanity of accomplishments.

In that moment, the humility of the highway weed seemed less like a nuisance to eradicate and more of an invitation to ease my growing resentment of time. I acknowledged the ways I sometimes begrudge its toll on my aging body instead of feeling gratitude for the continued gift of life. It made me realize how much I lament time’s passing instead of languishing in the many gifts of the moment. Best of all, it reminded me that when we stop striving to fill time with tasks that we deem noteworthy, we can empty ourselves of the expectations and judgment that keep us enslaved to busyness; that keep us distracted from the glory of an ordinary moment.

The solstice marks the astronomical start of summer and the longest day of the year. It originates from the Latin words sol for “sun” and sistere for “to stand still.” When I was a child, time stood still and in the vast emptiness of that space, time wasn’t the enemy. It wasn’t something I needed to master or outrun. It wasn’t something I had to fill to prove my value or something I was trying to erase as it reconfigured my body. It was just stillness – both an untamed lawn to run through and a roadside weed that reminds me that no matter how old we get slowing down helps us to grow.

Love: the Insanity of It

June 20, 2023lpatangan

I’ve never journaled much because I figured if I wrote down my most vulnerable thoughts they would eventually be used to commit me into a sanitarium where I would spend the rest of my days eating green Jell-O wondering how full life could have been if I only used my Holly Hobbie journal to draw pictures of cats instead of depictions of insanity.

But the reality is, I was never crazy. I was human. And, where the line occasionally blurs between the two, looking back at the few journals I sporadically kept over the years, the problem becomes clear. Regardless of what stage of life I was in, whether it was as a newlywed in my twenties, or as a mother of young children in my thirties, or during an existential crisis in my forties, the commonality between the pages inked in these decades was a quest to figure everything out. It wasn’t so much wisdom I sought but the clarity of a crystal ball. I wanted the yellow brick road version of life so that all I had to do was follow the path to Oz.

So often I worried about missing out or messing up. I was scared of failing and falling behind. I was certain that there were right answers and a right way, and if I was only smart enough or less directionally challenged, I would know how to do this thing called life. But what I understand now is that the unknown path isn’t something to fear. It isn’t a trap to tiptoe around. It isn’t static or straight, and it won’t save you from loneliness or loss or any of the other uncomfortable feelings of our humanity. It isn’t something to figure out as much as it is your own path to discover.

All of those questions hidden in the intermittent passages of old journals never had the answers. There was never one right way that was going to make life sensible nor one clear path that was going to keep me from making mistakes, from being hurt, or that would dull that desperate ache of our inherent yearning for Christ. If there was indeed a universal answer that one could plug in as a resolution to any question, it would be love. And, could there be anything more illogical than that? Read more →

Love is Messy so be Kind

February 8, 2023lpatangan

I wouldn’t have even known the song was by the former boy-bander had the deejay not mentioned it. Timberlake isn’t really my type, which I’m sure is a huge relief to his wife (actress Jessica Biel).

Timberlake was singing about love and making some girl’s dream come true by loving her. It went something like this: Love, give it a chance, yadda, yadda, yadda; his hips rolling; my eyes rolling. The song culminates with Timberlake making dreams come true (as if he’s become the physical embodiment of a Disney theme park because clearly, that’s what every woman is looking for in a man).

The song is set to a rhythmic beat that seems too fast to slow dance to and too slow to fast dance to. Its genre could best be described as folding towels kind of music.

It was the part about the dreams coming true that perplexed me. My husband and I have been married for 25 years. We met when we were 14 years old. Not in a commune — but in high school, which admittedly is similar in some ways. While we didn’t date until after college, we’ve still been together for a long time.

But numbers don’t mean anything when you are talking about love. Despite being many amazing things and a partner in the truest sense of the word, my husband is not my dream. Since I’m fairly certain Timberlake quit reading this after the first paragraph when I said he wasn’t my type, I don’t feel guilty for saying that identifying a romantic partner as a dream seems like a ridiculous sentiment.

It’s unrealistic to envision romantic love as the end-all, be-all — in other words, the big, capital D “Dream.” Thinking of love only as first kisses, long gazes, and electric touches, it’s no wonder so many people become disenchanted with their relationships. Those things are flirtatious and fleeting. From a practical perspective, I would also prefer my husband unload the dishwasher rather than gaze at me. Lingering stares make me feel as if I’ve left part of my supper on my face or dangling between my teeth and I hardly feel attractive.

I don’t mean to sound cynical either. Long stares aside, I love moments when my breath catches in my throat. But those moments are not sustainable. You would quite literally start to choke or gasp, neither of which is particularly attractive. Those moments are fun and they’re giddy. They sell books, movies, and even songs. But when we get too caught up in them, we can develop unrealistic expectations for our relationships. Mostly when we hyperfocus on romance, we ignore a fundamental truth — love is messy.

I know the Bible doesn’t say that in Corinthians 13:4-13, which begins with “Love is patient, love is kind …” But maybe what’s inferred is that love is messy, so be patient; love is messy, so be kind, etc. Real love isn’t just romance. It’s listening when you don’t feel like hearing. Love is accepting when you want change. Love is trusting. It’s surrender, vulnerability, and sacrifice. It’s scary. Add a mortgage and a couple of kids and it gets even scarier. No one dreams about a sink full of dishes or a sinking feeling when you have different opinions or different approaches. No one dreams about taking care of someone when they are sick or struggling with feelings of indifference or apathy. No one dreams about fights or the vulnerabilities they expose.

Loving someone through moments, days or periods of time that for whatever reason feel like a nightmare isn’t as pretty as the flat hearts we colored red as children. Yet, it’s not the perfection of love that makes it exceptional, it’s the implausibility of it to thrive despite life’s imperfections. Love is beautiful because it is so messy and it endures despite all of the humanness; all of the brokenness that exists in our world. Likewise, when Jesus died on the cross for us, it was not a dream. It was reality at its most brutal. Yet, it was the epitome and essence of love. It was sacrificial and unconditional. For sure, it was messy. Jesus deserved better. I can’t live up to his example or repay his sacrifice. Still, I am humbled by the reality of it.

Even though I often have to pick up my own cross a gazillion times to show the people in my life genuine love, I strive to do it no matter how messy it feels. This isn’t the kind of love I dream about, but it’s a timeless testament to the power and practice of authentic love — a tune that can sometimes feel a little offbeat but that inevitably makes me want to dance.

Hi all~ It’s the month of love! (Or so Hallmark tells us.) While the image of Jesus doesn’t make it on most greeting cards, it’s really his example of love; his passion for us; his unconditional and merciful heart that I want to emulate with everyone I love. But I am me so I never get it quite right. And, still, love accepts, forgives, and embraces me. That’s the power and promise that doesn’t come from mylar balloons or the prettiest bouquets but from our heavenly Father. That’s love.

May your heart be filled with it ~ Love, Lara

Dance Like Everyone is Watching!

January 12, 2023lpatangan

Hi all ~ We are a few weeks into a new year and maybe it’s not feeling as shiny as you hoped. So, I hope this post encourages you to find joy no matter how messy or imperfect your days may be. As Christians, we have so much to celebrate – so may you dance (and live) like everyone is watching. ~ Love, Lara

My dance resume is so scant it wouldn’t fill a Post-it note. I took a month of ballet when I was seven-years-old, and a few years later a private jazz class that culminated in a duet with my teacher to Frank Sinatra’s New York, New York. The best thing about it was of course the red sequins and fish-net stockings my nine-year-old self wore with scandalous pride. Other than that, my dance career consisted mostly of inebriated moments on the sticky dance floor of some bar where an intoxicating mix of youthful angst and heady independence collided in manic, exuberant moves that made me feel like a rock star but probably looked like I was having a grand mal seizure.

My only other notable dance moments usually occurred when Gloria Gaynor belted out “I Will Survive,” as part of the DJ’s dubious playlist at a wedding. Without thought, I would abruptly end my conversation and hustle out on the dance floor as if it was my sole mission to join in solidarity with the other women to celebrate the rising that comes from a bad breakup. Again, why do they play this at weddings?

Last year, I added another bullet point to my dance resume – a dance class at the YMCA. This is the kind of class where you have to channel your inner preschooler who has more energy than inhibition and more acceptance than austere ambition. At the start of class, the teacher says that the only rule is to have fun. I would add to try not to run into anyone and most importantly, don’t look at yourself in the mirror. (I’ve done both.) The woman I ran into was gracious; the mirror – not so much. When I saw my reflection, I went from feeling like one of the Fly Girls from that 90s show “In Living Color,” to freezing like I just saw the snake-haired Gorgon, Medusa, and turned to stone out of utter fear of my incongruous boogie moves. Trust me, it’s better to just embrace the delusion that you are a Fly Girl, or Rockette, or Beyonce. Read more →

Listen Up! (Please)

November 14, 2022lpatangan

Hi all!

It’s mid-November and we just had some weird, wonky hurricane here in Florida. I’m sore from the clean-up and I’m giving myself a hurricane rest day. Truthfully, I’m not good at resting. So, when I say rest what I am really saying is “I’m going to get my life together today.” And, if you know me, you may think “gee, that’s ambitious,” or ” It’s about time, lady.” And, that’s fair. But whoever really has it together? (I digress but no more digressing on my get-it-together day.)

As such, I am sharing a podcast I recorded with Lindy Wynne on “Mamas in Spirit.” We had such a great conversation on mercy and its relevance in our everyday life. With the holidays coming up, we are all going to need a little extra mercy! Please take a listen. Her podcasts are like mini-retreats and who better to talk about mercy than the girl who’s getting her life together today? Trust me, that’s going to take a whole lot of mercy!

https://www.mamasinspirit.com/podcast/2022/10/27/mercy-with-lara-patangan.

P.S. — This precious orange kitten is one that I fostered recently. I couldn’t decide whether to go with the post-hurricane yard picture or the ridiculously cute kitten picture that has no relevance to anything I said. But I think I made the right decision.

Love and prayers for you all. ~ Lara

Life’s Purpose and Age in Dog Years

October 10, 2022lpatangan

Hi all~

You may not know this about me, but quite recently I was the birthday girl! It wasn’t just any birthday either, I celebrated one of those fancy-pants decade birthdays that only come along…well, you know, every 10 years! If you think about it, we don’t get too many of those.

I’m not one of those people who engage in modesty or discretion when it comes to celebrating my birthday. I’m a celebrate-all-month kind of girl. This year, God hosted a massive hurricane on my birthday. I figured that had to be a good sign – like rain on your wedding day (or maybe it means this will be a decade of doom, however I’m going with it’s a good luck sign!)

Don’t worry I’m not going to ask you for birthday presents because I’ve moved on to Halloween decor. But I do have an ask. This week’s post shares some wisdom about life. It may be the only wisdom I know but I think it’s probably enough. Anyway, if you want to share any wisdom that you’ve learned about life or purpose, I would consider your perspective a welcome gift. Maybe one that will help me shape this next chapter of my life. Please share in the comments! ~ Love, Lara

Here’s what I know:

I recently had a decade birthday which brought up a slew of questions ranging from the existential to the inane. Specifically, these questions ranged from what’s life’s purpose to how old am I in dog years. I’m not sure why I started thinking about dog years when I’ve always been more of a cat person. Maybe it’s because cats have nine lives and factoring that in would be an extra step in the equation. Yet, it turns out figuring out my exact canine age isn’t any easier.

You see, it’s not simply a matter of multiplying human age times a set amount of dog years as I’ve always heard. It varies based on the size of the dog and the breed. Also, in its first year a dog may age as much as 15 years and in later years only seven to nine. I momentarily thought I solved the quandary when I found an online dog calculator. Only, it wouldn’t let me put in an age past 20 human years. To make matters more complicated, it also asked me to pick a dog breed. There was no way I could decide which dog I identify as –that’s a rabbit hole I’m happy to say I’m not going down.

So once again, my search for answers only led to more questions. Typically, my existential quest focuses on what I should be doing with my life. I’ve sought answers with the same tenacity as a Bluetick Coonhound on a hunt. More often than not, I ended up lost. It’s easy to focus on what we think we should do instead of what God is actually calling us to do. We spend decades acquiring material possessions, status, and prestige. We hold on to these things as if they are what define this one unique life that is ours. As if they hold the answer to our relevance in this world. Yet, no matter how much we try to complicate, examine, or define our life’s purpose, the answer remains as simple as God’s greatest commandant to love him and your neighbor above everything else. Life is about the love we give and receive. No special calculators or fancy formulas. Just love.

Sunburns and Silver Linings

July 18, 2022lpatangan

Hi all,

I feel like we are entering the part of summer where the mosquito warfare and oppressive heat have eclipsed the thrill of fireflies and the feel of ease that the start of summer promises.

In short, it’s hot and buggy.

Still, there’s something about summer that makes me feel like time has slowed just a bit. In our fast-paced world, that’s priceless. So, enjoy what’s left of this restful season and the extra time that I hope it gives you to spend with family and friends.

This week’s post is one of my favorites because it reminds me that life is imperfect and that hurt and loss are a natural part of our journey. Sounds peppy, huh? But really, embracing this truth instead of resisting it somehow makes all of the difference. Hurt and loss happen to all of us. The real balm is that mercy is always available and we can be the face of mercy to others.

Here is the link to the post!

Love, me

P.S. — This picture is from the summer of 2010 when my boys were OBSESSED with the Karate Kid movies and were practicing their “Crane Kick” on the beach.

P.S.S. — The picture below is just because I miss them so much. I’m not sure how that is possible when they are both here with me but I bet you understand.

So Many Things!

May 16, 2022lpatangan

Hi all~

I hope you are surviving the most ceremonial month of the year! I don’t have any big graduations this year but I kicked off the month with my son’s Eagle Scout ceremony (very proud mama). Also, 50th birthdays are all the rage this year. We celebrated my husband’s last week with a short stay at the beach where he sliced his foot open on an oyster shell while another family member got jabbed in his foot artery with the barb of a catfish. (Of course, I don’t really know if we have feet arteries but without getting into detail it seemed like perhaps we have a profusely plump one that catfish like to poke to avenge fisherpeople. You can’t really blame them.) Apparently, nothing says birthday like a weekend at the beach and lots of blood. Of course, Mother’s Day was sandwiched somewhere in between it all — and since I don’t remember crying this year it must have been a good one (or good enough which is my new standard).

My son is off to do summer abroad in Italy! If you wonder why I’m not crying in this picture, it’s because I am so excited to visit him after I stalk Pope Francis in Rome. (I probably shouldn’t put that in writing). But seriously, I can’t wait to go and see all of the churches and holy sites, and, well, the Gucci store. (Just kidding, honey).

My book, Simple Mercies, turns a year old this month and I recently learned that it has been chosen by the Association of Catholic Publishers as a finalist in the Inspirational category. I find out in June if it wins but believe me when I say that just being a finalist is better than good enough for me. If you haven’t bought a copy yet you can here. If you read it and you liked it (you are my new best friend) as such please leave a happy review on Amazon because that helps in all kinds of meaningful ways that publishers and algorithms and obscure writers like.

I had two speaking events this month and both were for teenagers. The only people who I think need more mercy than they do is their mamas, so it was a gift to me to encourage them to practice and recognize God’s mercy in their own lives. I hope you are doing the same. It is such a game-changer when we do.

Here is the link to my latest post in The Florida-Times Union https://www.jacksonville.com/story/opinion/columns/guest/2022/05/08/guest-column-tilted-plant-reminder-its-ok-imperfect/9584677002/. If you want to be like me and get in touch with your inner imperfection (or at least accept it) then please read it and know that I’m the girl to make you feel better about nuisance flaws because boy do I have them!

Lastly, I found this sign at the beach and thought maybe it was good advice. ~Love, me

P.S. — if you are judging my outfit, just know that Jesus loves me anyway. And, maybe I will start a new fashion trend in Italy!

Holy Week Challenge

April 12, 2022lpatangan

Hi all,

I hoped to get this out earlier today but I am having a challenging week. If this were not a religious blog and if I were not trying to be extra good considering all of Jesus’s sufferings — I might insert a different word for challenging. But since that’s not the case, I’m muddling through the best I can. Intermittent visits to my closet to eat the Easter candy I hid for the baskets is an upside to this week that is helping.

Normally, I would share this post when things were less hectic but I feel like it’s an important one to consider during Holy Week. The post is about forgiveness. While I know that’s a subject many of us would like to forget for reasons that feel painfully justified, all of the sufferings Jesus endured were done so that we may be forgiven. Hard or not, forgiveness is the hope of our salvation — both God’s forgiveness and the forgiveness we show our neighbor. (Yes, even that neighbor!)

Here is the link to my latest post in The Florida Times-Union https://www.jacksonville.com/story/opinion/columns/guest/2022/04/10/guest-column-resisting-mercy-forgiveness-only-makes-hurt-more/7224751001/

May you experience the freedom of forgiveness and the joy made possible through his resurrection. ~ Love, Lara

Shopping for Value

April 4, 2022lpatangan

I’ve always liked to shop. The artfully arranged displays, colors folded into precise geometric shapes, and the assortment of curated merchandise make me feel hopeful. Hope that I could be more attractive. Hope that I would be enough. Hope that having something was the same as having it all together. Unlike the price tag, the promise of such things wasn’t explicit. It was in the garments hung in rainbow-colored order, the soft lighting, the scent of a lit candle, and melodic music that lulled me into thinking I wasn’t just purchasing a shirt but an assurance of a better life.

It’s as if my potential couldn’t be fulfilled until I owned the right things. Shopping was like being sent to wardrobe for a starring role in life – exciting, full of promise, and redemptive. It was an escape from whoever I was for a chance to discover who I could be. And, clearly, who I could be was better.

Intellectually, I know this falls somewhere between silly and sad. We come into the world with nakedness and nothing. Yet, still, our inherent value compels someone to pick us up and hold us close. As babies, we don’t care how we look or what we wear. We don’t question our worth. We know we matter. “I praise you, because I am wonderfully made; wonderful are your works! My very self you know,” (Psalms 139:14). We have this instinct that tells us we deserve nourishment, warmth, and love. We demand these things with cries, cooing smiles, and outstretched arms. For most of us, our needs were met. We were loved and we were enough.

I don’t know how we are born with such a knowing only for it to get all twisty and tangled. I just know for most of us, it gets twisty and tangled. What was once smooth becomes matted into muddled thinking of what constitutes value. The prettiest clothes, the right weight, the tidy house, the well-behaved children, the doting spouse, the big paycheck, the esteemed title, all become measures offering the same distorted reflection of value as a fun-house mirror.

If we aren’t careful, we confuse who we are with our intellect, possessions, or worldly recognition. We consider our constructs more than the constancy of our soul’s predetermined and unalterable value. I suppose in life’s messiness, in all that remains unmet, we seek out instead of seeking him. As challenging as it may be sometimes to find the perfect pair of jeans, that can still seem less ambitious than finding this elusive God of ours. Yet, happiness has never been in the having; knowing has never been in the intellect; God will never be in the material and love will never be owned.

All of the assurance we ever need comes from the love of God. Unlike the perfect outfit, it’s been there all along. All we have to do is put it on.

May you wear it well.

Hi all,

I always feel like there are so many things I want to tell you in this little section that it is often the hardest thing I write. Like, I want to ask you if you notice that I am not posting as much or being as active on social media — but then I think, hmm, maybe they don’t! Maybe I should just keep quiet about that.

Then, I think of telling you that I have been in a discerning mode for the last several months but that isn’t quite the best way to describe it. It’s more peaceful than discerning tends to be and I think I may actually be getting the hang of this letting God’s will be done thing. Life really is much simpler when we surrender to His will.

But then I think, oh dear, does that sound like I have everything figured out and I have left Christianity to simply be like Buddha and his big fat belly and just be? No, nothing is really that simple. (Except maybe growing big bellies!) Anyway, I just wanted to check in with you and be candid even if I’m momentarily incapable of being clear. In short, I am here less and with Him more. And, I am good. I remain as grateful as ever to share this faith journey with you. Love ~ Lara