When I saw that Camp Hanover was offering a Women’s Retreat, I clicked on the link to
get the details and saw that it was about Julian of Norwich. I couldn’t tell you a single
thing about our girl Julian, but I did a quick scan of the details of this retreat for any red
flags that could be triggering for me. As someone who has a complicated history with
church, church camps, and the incredibly harmful messages women have received
about our roles in the church, I am always half expecting there to be flags all over these
events—and not the kind of flags I like to fly.
I was pleasantly surprised when I didn’t see or sense anything triggering, and I was
actually elated when I explored Camp Hanover’s website for the first time and saw how
radically inclusive they are. What a breath of fresh air! So, I texted my best friend in the
area and a handful of new friends from church and asked if they would join me. Having
only been in the area for a month or so, I thought this would be a great way to get to
know some of the women of our church, while also rooming with one of my best friends
of 11 years.
Did I do any research on Julian of Norwich in the weeks ahead of time? Nope. I was just
looking forward to time away with my bestie and some new friends, hoping I could get
something out of the retreat.
One thing that makes me feel connected to God on a deeper level is when I have a
thought that feels significant or profound, and then someone else brings up the exact
same thing. It feels like a confirmation from God. Like a guidepost. Like a cairn for
hikers, telling them that they’re on the right path through difficult terrain. It reminds me
that God is with me, hearing my every thought, and is delighted by my mind and heart
connecting.
The week before the retreat, while standing at the bus stop, I had one of those
significant thoughts, and it brought me to tears. Like many mothers and daughters, my
mom and I have had seasons of closeness and seasons where we didn’t talk or share
quite as much. But that week, I had this very strong realization that my mom is one of
my best friends. She’s the first one I call when I get in the car, and sometimes we talk
multiple times a day. Some weeks, we won’t talk for days because life gets busy, but we
always pick up right where we left off.
Through her own faith journey—which includes a profound season of meeting with a
spiritual director, as well as good ol’ therapy—we have learned to communicate in a way
that feels healthy. While waiting at the bus stop, I realized that we had moved from a
relationship that was good (though burdened with some unhealthy habits that could
cause pain or resentment) to a relationship where we can share all the things. We can
set healthy boundaries without hurting feelings, communicate needs and
disappointments without withdrawing or overreacting, and truly celebrate each other.
We each had front-row seats to watch the other transform from the inside out. We both
bravely opened up our hands and let go of the survival tools we had used for years, but
maybe no longer needed… denial, projection, emotional withdrawal, and one of our
favorites, hyper-independence. We also opened ourselves up to experiencing God in
new ways. All of this hit me, standing there at the bus stop. I mean, of course we’ve
talked about how much we’ve grown… but for me, it was the realization that my mom
was one of my best friends. I hadn’t ever phrased it to myself that way before.
So, in our first session at the women’s retreat, we’re all gathered around the campfire,
and Rev. Sandi Goehring, who led the retreat, asks us three questions:
- Who is the wise woman in your life that you seek out?
- What draws you to seek out a wise woman?
- What questions would you ask her?
My mom. I didn’t need to search for the answer, because God had put it on my heart a
few days earlier. In that moment, I felt profoundly blessed. The beauty to me isn’t just
that I was given this “perfect” mom… because she wasn’t perfect. She got pregnant with
me in college, dropped out, and had me at 19… she struggled. The beauty is that she
did the work. She didn’t settle for less just because her circumstances weren’t ideal.
She went after the things she wanted, and she worked her way up Maslow’s hierarchy
of needs. She volunteered with youth at the church, then became the paid youth
director; she got a degree in sociology; she worked her way up in the church and ended
up being the director of mission and outreach; and she eventually went to seminary and
became a pastor… all while discovering who she was, who God is, and how to live like
Jesus. Eventually, she landed in therapy and began the hard work of sorting through
childhood messes and all the stuff we all choose to either face or ignore.
Through it all, she became the woman I seek out, the one I’m drawn to, and the one I
can ask anything. It was lovely to have this full-circle moment, in a beautiful space, with
safe people, and my friend who even knows my mom.
Friday night, I went to sleep thinking… wow, this was only the first session, and I would
be totally satisfied if this was all I walked away with. But of course, there was so much
more to come.
Julian of Norwich was born in 1342 during the time of the Black Plague. In 1373, when
she was 30 years old, she was ill to the point of being read her last rites by a priest. It
was during that illness that she had a total of 16 “revelations” or “showings” from God.
Sometime after that, she became an anchoress. This was a person who lived a life of
solitude, prayer, and spiritual devotion in a small room attached to a church.
Her cell had three windows. One window looked into the church where people would
bring her food, empty her bedpan, and where she could hear the liturgy and worship.
The next window looked into the churchyard, which most likely had a garden. The last
window looked out onto the street; it had a black curtain with a white cross on it so that
people would know where to find her. Norwich was a wealthy, vibrant, and intensely
religious city during Julian’s time. Many people journeyed there on a spiritual pilgrimage,
and they would stop and speak to her through that tiny window. She was known for her
wisdom, visions, and gentleness.
Julian’s most well-known revelation came from her wrestling with suffering and evil. She
kept asking: If God is loving and powerful, why is there so much pain?
What God revealed to her was: “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all
manner of thing shall be well.”
We don’t know exactly when, after these revelations, Julian made the choice to lock
herself up in a tiny room for the rest of her life, but historians’ best guess is sometime in
the decade following the showings. Julian made a conscious choice to not write
anything personal, but to make everything about God. She could have been previously
married and lost a family to the Black Plague—we just don’t know. We don’t even know
her real name.
Because of that, I found myself struggling to relate to her. The thought jumped into my
head: Well, I could probably have 16 profound revelations and words of wisdom if I were
locked away from the world, too! It’s a lot harder to be IN the world, with bills to pay,
mouths to feed, kids to raise, and relationships to navigate. War, famine, disease…
when we’re constantly being hit with the needs of this world, including our own, it’s a lot!
On top of that, our callings in life are very different. I see one of mine as being a bell
ringer for justice and change. When the Church isn’t looking or acting like Jesus, I’m not
one to sit by while people are getting hurt. I’m calling it out! I want to be an agent of
change.
How can I relate to these words that feel almost like toxic positivity?
And then the next thought came to me… I know my calling, but this was Julian’s calling.
She was living in a time of war, famine, disease, and corruption as well, and it was a lot
closer to her than it’s ever been to me. I don’t actually know what her life was like before
she became an anchoress, but I do know that we have different callings.
Most of us can’t seclude ourselves from the world, and we’re not supposed to. But it’s
also so very easy to get so wrapped up in the injustices of the world that we become
bitter, and we isolate ourselves in a different way. We lose the one thing that anchors
us… Hope.
“We have this hope as an anchor for the soul…” (Hebrews 6:19). The words of an
anchoress, given by God, are truly an anchor for all of us. They offer hope in a world
that has, and will probably always have, greed, disease, corruption, and pain… but will
also always have love, friendship, community, peace, kindness, goodness, gentleness,
the Holy Spirit, and hope.
In the midst of it all, we have hope. Hope is beyond circumstances. In seasons of joy,
there is hope. In seasons of sorrow, there is hope. Whatever path you are walking,
whatever calling you are living out, we all need to be anchored in the hope that is Jesus.
Without God, the ups and downs of this world are too much. Where else do we find
hope but in the goodness of God?
So, from this crazy lady ringing the bell, calling out the Church to stop worshiping
golden idols and start living and loving like Jesus, I’m pausing to remind myself WHY I
ring that bell: Because I truly believe that Jesus offers us something we can’t find
anywhere else in this world. Hope.
“All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.”
(Fun fact: Julian’s book, Revelations of Divine Love, is the first known book to be written
in English by a woman!)