As Newtown wades through day after devastating day, I can't think of anything to contribute to the national conversation. Instead, I'll borrow a prayer from my favorite author. Knowing little else to do, I'll pray it over and over while a community lays its dearly departed to rest.
"There are no words for the broken hearts of people losing people, So I ask God, with me in tow, to respond to them with graciousness and encouragement enough for the day.
Everyone we love and for whom we pray with such passion will die, which is one real fly in the ointment, so we pray for miracles - please help this friend live, please help this friend die gracefully - and we pray for survivors to somehow come through...
I try not to finagle God. Some days go better than others, especially during election years. I ask that God's will be done and I mostly sort of mean it.
In prayer, I see the suffering bathed in light. In God, there is no darkness. I see God's light permeate them, soak into them, guide their feet. I want to tell God what to do: "Look, Pal, this is a catastrophe. You have got to shape up." But it wouldn't work.
So I pray for people who are hurting, that they be filled with air and light. Air and light heal; they somehow get into those dark musty places, like spiritual antibiotics.
We don't have to figure out how this all works - "Figure it out" is not a good slogan. Its just enough to know it does."
Anne Lamott,
from "Help Thanks Wow, the Three Essential Prayers"
I know I must be getting better and better because the urge to run has turned into an alarm that I just can't turn off. Deep down, I know its a true joy and luxury to complain about a lack of running and to ache to move faster. For the record, I am happy to be at this new stage. (now let's continue, what was I saying about discontentment?...)
When I get my "Running Time's" magazine in the mail, I have to immediately hide its mocking cover away until I can read it "some day in the future."
When I see runners relishing in the cool fall weather as they stride past me, it takes all I can muster not to say "quit bragging!"
When Neil innocently tells me about knocking out 7 miles on the treadmill - I swallow the mean response of "how fun for half the people in this house" and force a smile to simply say "how fun"
(admittedly, this is not my best self)
Stupidly, I've chosen right now to finish the borrowed book "Running the Spiritual Path" by Roger Joslin, so i can return it to my friend Caitlin. Its a great book, and its not helping matters. On this perfect autumn running day, I will share a (rather long but beautiful) excerpt from the book. It expresses the love/hate/love relationship I have with running and it gives insight into why I miss it so much.
Joslin wrote this excerpt after completing a 22 mile run through the deserts of the Rio Grande... [emphasis and spacing mine]
"When I returned from the trip to Big Bend and was asked about the run, I was uncertain how to reply. To those who wouldn't understand, I was likely to offer a flippant answer. I would say that the run was "great" or "hard" or "beautiful." These replies were, at least on a superficial level, perfectly true.
The twenty-two mile run down the Old Ore Road in Big Bend was like life itself. The same can be said for almost every run I take. Every run contains elements of the "stuff of which life is made." All the worries, fears, distractions, hopes, regrets, pain, and joy that fill life are often played out over the course an hour-long run.
Running in Big Bend, a place where God's spirit abounds, the examples of God's handiwork are evident as both challenging obstacles and lofty displays of inspiration. I felt as if years of experience in dwelling in the Divine Presence were compressed into only a few hours.
At times it was easy, exhilarating, joyous, and awe inspiring. Then I would emerge from a dry creek bed to find that the trail had become dangerous, worrisome, difficult, painful, and exhausting...
I tend to saddle each run with the complexities of my personal experience. And over the course of the run, these complexities are reduced to the simple matter of moving and breathing in God's presence."
Even though I've spent so many years dreaming about the days "when I get better..." I'm still at a loss at how to finish that sentence.
I could make this a long drawn out post about how I'm weighing options of alternative health care jobs or going back to school for other degrees. Or I could talk a lot about how I'm thinking of ways to start small, like volunteer, before I choose a direction. Or I could share how Neil and I have actually made an NCAA-like tournament bracket of possible job options.
But what I really want to say today is much more simple. Its a pep-talk for me as much as I hope it might resonate for you in some way. Its a quote by Rainer Maria Rilke and it is on constant repeat for me these days because the blank slate in front of us starts to bring up so many questions: What will I do next? How much can my brain handle? Where will we live? etc, etc
I just go back to this quote and remember that this time doesn't need to be overwhelming and scary (a territory so easily ventured into, isn't it?) - this time can be exciting and full of wonder.
All those things I can't answer right now, its okay. Its okay to live in the question.
…I would like to beg you dear Sir, as well as I can, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.
For anyone that wasn't at church this week - here is a link to my sermon on Job chapter 2
"Should we only accept good things from the hand of God
and never anything bad?"
**note: I still have a very jumbled brain so the sermon has some pauses where I collect myself - in person these may have felt short, however it translates not so well in podcast form. Maybe I'm being harsh though - who doesn't cringe at the sound of their own voice? is that a standard rule?
On a related note, here's a link to free online Sudoku, because if you're going to spend time with an audio link, I may as well give you a visual distraction. (I also recommend USAtoday crossword)
My friend Tricia also wrote such a lovely blog post about her thoughts on the topic. (its wonderful to read - especially if you don't have the time to listen to the sermon, plus she doesn't say "um" nearly as much as I do)
I'm still not feeling much better from Monday so I'll be enjoying the blue skies from bed. I'm keeping a routine of water, heating pad, water, crackers, water, tea, water.
I hope your wednesday holds equal or greater amounts of excitement!
(This is Neil filling in for Em while she rests tonight....we just felt the need to post about this)
I am not sure if you have seen this story in the news but a horrible act was committed in what appears to be a road rage incident against a biker. The biker is our friend Colin. You may have heard this name before specifically about our friend Colin, his wife Carina and their house on Fairmount Street.... because their house had burnt to the ground last July.
A tragic event like this almost leaves me at a loss for words. All I can say is what I know for sure which is that Colin is a good man. Despite all that they have been through he never lost his kindness, positive spirit and his faith. I can not stop thinking about this because such a tragic event should never happen to such a great person.
I wasn't there. I didn't see what started this incident (not that it matters). But I can guarantee that no wrong was done on his part and I am as sure of this as I can be of anything. The character of this man is enough to make me fully stand behind that belief. All I can hope is that the Lord can give them strength and calm the nerves of their family as Colin heals from this heinous act.
They were asked what they needed because so many people want to do what they can to help. The only thing they said that they wanted was prayer. So you can bet your a** that is what we will continue to do and I encourage you to do the same.
However, for those of you that are compelled to do more I can tell you this. They have a website that is still set up from the fire that burned their home down a little over a year ago
You can go to the "Ways to Help Give" tab and in the left hand column there is a donate button which will link you to their pay pal account. Em spoke with a friend that saw Colin this afternoon. He said this would be an acceptable way to contribute to them at this time.
I know that Colin has health care that will help with their coverage but with the potential additional medical expenses and the fact that he may not be able to work for awhile I am sure that any help would go a long way in supporting Colin and his family during his recovery.
There is no simple way to end this post so I am just going to stop here and do all that I can at this moment, pray.....
With a low rumble of thunder I'm reminded that, yes, its still raining. And while I tend to love a good downpour, its now been days of rain and I was hoping to play outside all weekend with my cousins and even dive into this new game.
I like the idea of a cheery umbrella (see below), but let's not kid ourselves... this is how we all really feel, am I right?
Running has been kicking my butt lately and hot yoga has been making me woozy so I wasn't surprised yesterday when my doctor delivered his official opinion: cool it. (not in those exact words, he was more doctory). This isn't devastating because (1) there are bigger things in life to mourn (2) I haven't been getting out there much, and (3) running has been so very painful and hard. However, I'm still pouting. You don't know how much you want something until someone says 'no' (just ask a toddler, they get it). So good bye running shoes. Hello um, well, I don't know... sensible flats? this is lame.
And waking up to news of a mass shooting in Colorado was, for lack of ways to phrase it, a terror. Putting myself in the place of anyone in that theater is virtually impossible. I don't know anything that big, that scary. Maybe thats part of why our nation is so in shock - because the bottom dropped out of what we know of as 'safe'. We can calculate risk of flying in a plane or having surgery but seeing a movie? That should carry zero risk. It opens us up to fragility of life everywhere. So when we can't even begin to imagine what the victims and their families must feel, we can say with shock, 'I see movies, that could have been me."
I just finished a book called "We Need To Talk About Kevin" by Lionel Shriver. Its about a teenage boy that goes on a killing spree in a school. Its all written from the mother's perspective and over the hundreds of pages you feel drawn so close, right into her nightmare. It is a disturbing and chilling novel and it is really well done. I can say it was good in the same way I can say I liked Schindler's List (both of them were terrible, does that make sense?). It effected me deeply, getting into the psychology of this family. So hearing about the shooting in Aurora, CO - the first thing I thought of was the mother of the shooter. I attribute this thought to how well the book was written. Now I can't get her out of my head. This article says she had an instinct, before knowing any details of movie theater killing, she instantly said 'you have the right person.' That gives me chills.
But I won't delve too deeply down that rabbit hole. For the people of Denver, this must seem larger than life. That's the nature of tragedy, it swallows everything else around it. But clouds eventually lift (not that the platitude is of any comfort on a stormy day like today). Sooner or later life's events that were shrunken and made insignificant by pain will demand to be noticed again. The bills and the baby showers and phone calls will resume normal size, thus compressing all mourning until it only fits in corners and closets. When people say 'in time this will feel better' I don't think they mean "you're pain will go away". I've found the meaning to be - "Time is a force... and inevitably this pain that's in the foreground will have to shift around. Time will move things back to almost right size"
This weekend is two years since my cousin passed away. The pastor hinted at the idea of what I said above in his sermon at the funeral. I've thought about it (and expanded on it) a lot since. I've thought about my cousin a lot since too - although the pain isn't as big as it was then. I don't remember much from the service, but I remember his step-sister singing a breathtakingly beautiful version of 'hallelujah'
I will say to you I hope the clouds lift, but I know for a fact that they do. I am a firm believer that there can be good along with the bad. This weekend a large group of my cousins are gathering and its something I've looked forward to what feels like ages. Despite the rain, it will be wonderful.
In a recent podcast of The BS report, Bill Simmons interviews comedian Louis CK about his upcoming season of Louie (a show I love). In this interview Louis CK shares that he is an avid boxing fan, to the point of training and sparring himself.
He says there are a lot of parallels between boxing and life (its a great podcast so I recommend you listen to it all) but there's one metaphor he mentions that I can't help holding onto...
I've always taken that phrase at popular face value to mean "you're trapped", used interchangeably with "backed into a corner" or "there's no way out"
Starting at about minutes 18 in this interview, Louie begins talking about boxing and he breaks down "against the ropes" in a new way. I won't quote him or try to recreate exactly what he says, instead I'll summarize and tell you what I gather it means for me...
Sometimes there's a point in a fight when fatigue sets in for a boxer - when they can tell their muscles to work but they've been out there so many rounds it just won't compute. At this time they need a break more than anything. Leaning on the ropes doesn't give them full rest but takes some of the load off. It allows them to sit back a bit and pull in some energy.
This is a calculated choice because putting their back to the ropes leaves them vulnerable. They have no where else to go. It means they will have to take more punches and willingly face more pain. But a boxer could lose a fight for fatigue and so its a choice of rest over pain. All of this, so after a short time they can spring back ready to fight anew.
So I'm not sure I have to spell out all the ways this resonates with me but I will... (and I don't hope you're against the ropes but I hope this connects with you too, especially in the sense that I'm speaking clearly here - sometimes I feel jumbled in thought)
When a life circumstance puts you in a position where there is no foreseeable way out you are, as popular phrases say, backed into a corner. And when you are "up against the ropes" like this its almost always perceived as a terrible thing. Even in enlightened Christian circles, people don't handle this position well. I've heard many kind wishes and prayers from people to get me out of this place. Of course. That's nice, because I don't want to be here - but its also telling that no one knows quite what to do with "up against the ropes"
I loved hearing Louis CK explain this reasoning to lean into the ropes. That being stuck in the corner can be okay. Because round after round of fighting does make one weary and sometimes the whole thing can be lost because you're just worn down more than anything.
I loved hearing this reasoning because sometimes you honestly have to face pain when you're in a dark place and that can be good.
I loved hearing this because it brought to mind the verse from Matthew 11 when Jesus says, "Come to me all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest." How often is that depicted as a stained glass window, Jesus seated on a smooth stone with arms outstretched, children nestled beside him, sheep lazy in a grassy field? How often have I pleaded that my rest from all this hurt would look like that church window promise, only to lay awake with ice pick headaches?
But it says nothing in that verse about circumstance, only rest. Maybe that's why we have no comfortable answer for people up against the ropes. We want to control circumstance. We focus on seeing the people we love get out of difficult situations, even when there's no way out (even when - and this might be my whole point - maybe getting out is not the only thing that needs remedied)
I think thats why I like this verse all the more now that I can imagine it in knock down, drag out fight - "Come to me all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest" and it might continue on to say "you may still get punched in the face while it happens, but you will rest. So that painful time is still good, don't hurry through it. You will think you can't make it but I promise the cords at your back will lift you enough, and when you stand again you'll be able to keep going. In fact, you'll be stronger... now get these sheep out of my boxing ring." ~Jesus (paraphrased)
Until I completely run out of Sarris candy and chocolate covered pretzels - I feel Easter topics are passible... so I might have a two hour window to share my thoughts.
This year we started the weekend by hosting a Passover Seder dinner. Call it a combination of my faulty memory - or the four glasses of wine - I hardly remembered last year's dinner. This left me woefully unprepared for and presently surprised by this year's meal.
We followed Wikipedia's suggestion to "invite guests, especially strangers" - so of the 13 people around our table, many hardly knew each other. We stuck to mostly jew-ish food and my people can pot luck! It was crowded (even with our couch moved to the kitchen), and it was divine!
We added our Christian twist by raffling off a giant painting of the Last Supper.
It was not as coveted as you'd think. I could not get rid of that thing.
I don't know what I enjoyed more the reverent parts of the haggadah we walked through in the beginning or lingering after dinner, laughing till my face hurt at the end.
Our haggadah (and I suspect, most Seders) had a huge focus on putting the bad with the good. On remembering the times of sorrow while feeling the full hope of God's promise of a future.
Here's a part quoted from our script:
"We will eat the sweet charoset with the bitter moror.
The contrasting elements serve to remind us that life is often a confusing mixture of
joy and sorrow, of bitter endings and sweet new beginnings. Its is not our goal to
eliminate the negative experiences and pretend that life is all sweetness and happiness.
That is a futile task and finally dishonest. Rather our goal is to rejoice in the fact that
God works in all the circumstances of life."
It was so refreshing to acknowledge this truth in life. So often people ask me how I'm doing and they want to hear I'm better (as in "all better. everything's great") and the best I can say is "I'm okay." or laugh a little with "I've been worse." Its hard because people want a black or white answers. People live much more comfortably in one camp or another - when you ask about someone's relationship it's either "they're really great." or "they're having trouble." New moms - why must you be either "blissfully happy" or "really struggling"? Isn't it really true of all things that we live in the gray area of bitter and sweet at the same time. My life is hard - really hard and painful. My life is also beautiful and better than I could have imagined in so many ways. It takes cognitive dissonance to understand the answer to "how are you?"
During the Seder meal you take the sweet charoset (a honey/apple/wine mixture) and add it to bitter moror (usually horseradish) and you put it all on a matzah cracker to make a sandwich. You eat it together and you know - its not so bad.
After experiencing this transcendent Seder meal, I had to admit, it was kind of difficult for me to fully immerse myself in the traditional Easter events I had grown up with... on Good Friday, I had a hard time with being strictly sad, pensive, and mournful. Then there was a full weekend before I had to make myself fully happy, rejoicing, and sing-songy (He is risen! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!).
Excuse my blasphemy but I think from now on, I want to cry and laugh in the same evening and I want my good and bad on the same cracker.
Recently Neil and I watched ESPN Film's "The Announcement: Magic Johnson's Compelling Story" and we highly recommend it.
the official ESPN trailer
see it's TV schedule here (or if you have Comcast - use ESPN OnDemand)
in addition to the film, you can listen Magic's interview podcast here
(both are fascinating)
Three things about it were incredibly powerful and really stuck with me... *note: I do not remember any of this verbatim and I have very little 'blog'alistic integrity - so I didn't re-watch for direct quotes. Please don't correct me or re-quote me. Just read it like a book report from a D+ student in the 'slow track' English class.
Erving was newly married to his on again off again, college girlfriend, Cookie, when he found out about his diagnosis. Cookie had just learned she was pregnant. Magic told her right away that he had made mistakes in his single days and this would be a tough road ahead...and she was free to leave. Cookie stayed. (and this is the part that made me tear up) In relating all of this, Magic said, if Cookie would have left right then, I would have died.
That sounds dramatic, but I get him. When I think of all that comes with having someone say "I'll stick this out with you." - I don't believe he was exaggerating one bit. When he immediately retired he said it was for Cookie and she said she was for him. And that gives life. That makes enduring any number of things manageable.
I also don't think it's a coincidence that their marriage has lasted over 20 years. There's something about difficulty that shows the deep down goodness in the person you love. It cements a relationship.
When Magic was struggling with where he fit in - with the NBA, with society, with peers - he had a moment that changed him. He had been calling up friends to practice with him (friends that always jumped at a chance to play one-on-one), and he had no takers. Then out of the blue Pat Riley, his former coach, called him for some gym time. In the interview, Pat said he worked Magic hard, and at the end he hugged him. Remember, this was at the same time NBA officials were seeking out medical reports about exactly what fluids spread HIV and fear was rampant. People just didn't know. This was before they fought over if he was even allowed to come back and play. And this was years before I was given the quiz in high school health class "Can you share utensils with someone who is infected?"
This was just a empty gym, where a coach/mentor/friend said, I made sure I hugged him a long time - got all the sweat mixed in - so he knew exactly how I felt.
How a simple afternoon shoot around can change the way a person knows hope and love and acceptance is profound to me. If I stumble into hollywood acting and need to cry on cue, my go-to mental image might be that long sweaty hug between Erving Magic Johnson and Pat Riley.
The press conference was set for Magic tell the world his 'announcement', but he gathered his team in the locker room so they would hear it from him first. He said that facing that group of guys was the hardest thing he had to do. He said it was the first time in all of this he broke down crying. And he told the team, "When God gave me the disease, He gave it to the right person"
When bad things happen, like a freak accident where you get clothes-lined off a cattle car for example, a lot of people offer comfort. They say things like "God has a purpose in this, you'll see" - which is nice I suppose. But do you hear the subtle difference in what Erving said? "When God gave me the disease, He gave it to the right person"
The first has to do with a force of circumstance in which eventually God will work out a new force of circumstances in which you hope good things will come about. The second has to do with a force of circumstance in which you feel you can take what you have from God and make good things come about.
I'm someone who has heard the first example so often I could vomit (because it turns out, if there IS some great purpose, i MIGHT have missed it while I've been laid up in bed for four years - watching 'Lost' on Netflix). I know most of you readers might not be able to relate much to what Magic said in that locker room - but for some of you - I hope its the gift of another option out of a dark place.
We humans are more resilient than we know and I do believe in my core that a creator made us lovingly with a great capacity to endure.... and then to move beyond enduring and make beautiful things out of broken things. I happen to believe that God wants us active in our pain and I think that's what being 'the right person' means...
Magic went on to dedicate his life to educating others about HIV/AIDS. He was also, quite simply, a good man to the people close to him. I don't want to ruin it all for you (I left out two other parts that made me cry, if you can believe that) so just watch it already.
This week is extra extra rough. (and it's only wednesday... and it's not even lunch)
This week I need to go to my reserves to get through - which means I rely heavily on my friends and family and a strategic milkshake.
Did you ever have the kind of friend that you secretly, blushingly say "I can't believe they were duped into friendship with me. And they seem to be buying into my coolness. And they seem to really like me?!" Thats my beloved Rob.
(and that's us aggressively robot-ing)
Even though we might play phone tag for a month - and even though the phone tag might be on purpose so we can make up songs on each others machines - once we connect, we'll talk for hours. And the line that threads from here to New York is as strong as it was six years ago when we were freshmen in college (sharing a pizza & hot sauce at midnight while we lament about boys).
He hears what I'm saying implicitly, through all the things I ramble on about, and he instinctively knows what I need...
Then he sends me an email the next day with a link to the two words that are the most elusive to me - the two bastardly words that I didn't verbalize but he knows I just can't seem to get a grip on...
and damn you Rob - for not only knowing what I long for, but for also knowing that it should look pretty...
I've recent read "Eat This Book" by Eugene Peterson - the guy that wrote "The Message" (the loosely translated, modern version of the New Testament). I'll save you some time and say it wasn't amazing, but he spoke a bit about how the different translations came together to make what we know of the Bible.
In the jumbled mess of different languages and cultures and translations (upon translations, upon translations) most people see flaws and discrepancies - but Eugene sees potential and beauty. His point is that the more phrases, adjectives, and metaphors we gather to describe God, the better we are for it in the end.
I'm a person that LOVES listening to english as a second language (ESL) speakers because they show you words in a new way, so for that very reason - I must say, I agree...
A few years ago, I was in a coffee shop that had a couch piled high with pillows. A family from Eastern Europe was next to me and their little boy was bouncing, laughing, airplane-ing his arms out and falling backwards onto the plush pillows. His embarrassed mother came over and said "Please excuse him, he feels freedom." ah. that makes my heart burst! No one trained in this language would say something so beautiful and perfect and so mind opening!
This all brings me to my renewed, lenten love for the Our Father. Did you have any idea how many translations are out there for this simple prayer? ... and I don't just mean the "Forgive us our sins/debts/trespasses" question. (But while we're on the topic, I love the phrase 'trespass' for sin, because how often do we hurt others by crossing over their invisible boundaries and we might not even know it. I think that's a beautiful way to think of things)
Three weeks ago, I was told a possible translation for the line "Lead us not into temptation" and it's played in my head every single day since. It's led me to read the whole prayer in every hebrew, greek, and pig latin translation I can get my hands on. The result has been so gratifying.
The alternative line of prayer is, "Let us remember our true selves." Let us remember our true selves. It's so different from 'Lead us not into temptation', yet isn't temptation just abandoning who you are? and instead of seeing how they're different, I've been seeing how they compliment each other. Let us remember our true selves.
This year, I wanted to add to lent and not subtract from it by giving things up, so spending weeks with these lines has been quite nice. I used to feel that different translations were to be pared down and figured out, now I'm adding to them, expanding. It enhances everything to let go of the 'strict word of God' in this way - it feels freedom.
I worried about how to edit this (very long) post because my thoughts on each new line of just one prayer could fill a chapter. But, I'll spare you that, and finish with an aramaic translation of the Our Father that I like quite a bit...
O Cosmic Birther of all Radiance and Vibration.
Soften the ground of our being and carve out a
space within us where your Presence can abide.
Fill us with your creativity so that we may be
empowered to bear the fruit of your mission.
Let each of our actions bear fruit in accordance with our desire.
Endow us with the wisdom to produce and share
what each being needs to grow and flourish.
Untie the tangled threads of destiny that bind us, as we release
others from the entanglement of past mistakes.
Do not let us be seduced by that which would
divert us from our true purpose,
but illuminate the opportunities of the present moment.
I found a letter my friend Kristen wrote to me years ago. She sent it with a care package to cheer me up (this is while I was living far from her). She's a wonderful friend
She explained that she found a gift and thought of me, but on the way home she dropped it. Because she wanted to keep with it's theme, she glued it back together and sent it to me anyway. She really is a wonderful friend.
I can't remember now what was happening that prompted Kristin to send this gift, and she doesn't say expressly in the letter. Maybe that's the upside of a poor memory, the bad things are wiped away too.
But I think the message is still so applicable today - and I wanted to share because I suspect some of you would like a visual reminder too.... it is only wednesday after all - and sometimes these days can be rough.
Kristin, thank you for your care packages and your super glue - they still work on me
This is not the usual, chipper weekend post. buckle up...
Between the GOP debates and the recent State of the Union address - there's been a lot of political tinder to fuel internet opinions. I feel rather inundated with FACEBOOK STATUSES WRITTEN IN CAPS LOCK and photos of government officials with funny tag lines added and links to smear campaign ads vaguely claiming someone has been "feeding us more lies" with no supporting facts.
Its not the posts and the content I have a problem with here - its my reaction to them. When the joke falls within my party lines I find myself nodding, smirking "haaa, thats so true. I don't know how anyone could be stupid enough not to see how simple and true this is." And when it crosses my political divide - I read the same helvetica font as angry, mean, bitter helvetica. "really? you think that's funny? how stupid would you have to be to believe that is even remotely true?"
So the real issue is not that I have blue friends and red friends and friends with links to political satire - the real issue is how I clench my jaw and put up walls as soon as I perceive a strong bias in other people. But doesn't that just reveal a unhealthy manifestation of bias in myself?
I say all this about relatively benign facebook messages because this weekend I'm helping with an event that centers around a very jaw clenching, wall building issue - sexual identity (and the kicker, its' being held in one of those places where people really like to argue separate sides without hearing each other - a church).
I feel so hopeful about this event though. The Upper Room has arranged for Janell Williams Paris, a professor at Messiah College, to lecture about aspects of sexual identity - ranging from our cultural view of gender and sex to homosexuality to celibacy. All of this is based off her book "The End of Sexual Identity: Why Sex is Too Important to Define Who We Are." Her approach is to begin to remove some of the divisive constructs that have effectively halted conversation and allow for an open dialogue.
(note: I can't speak for everyone involved when I say this..) My goal is not to change people's minds/theology/religious construct. My goal, my hope, for saturday afternoon is that people relax their fists and open their ears and hear a well worn topic in a new way. For some people that have strong opinions, sitting in the middle of this powder keg of an issue, this approach could sound compromising and relativistic. I understand that. For some people that have been made to feel unwelcome, been ostracized, been oppressed, this approach could sound benign and insensitive. I understand that.
I sit in a comfortable place in our society as a middle class american with unambiguous genitalia that has a huge heterosexual crush on my husband. Its sad to me that there are labels that are 'normal' and 'abnormal' and more so 'perverse'. I can have the luxury of saying lets put away anger and sit and hear each other. I know my position is a luxury. I understand that too.
Even still - I hope this weekend can be one where the protest banners are laid down and the need to hear outweighs the need to be heard and most importantly we forgo the need to figure out who is right. It might sound like a cop out to a charged issue - but we haven't gotten anywhere with SPEAKING IN ALL CAPS. And isn't it harder to face the thing we disagree with? Isn't it less of a cop out to wrestle with opposing view points the fact that there are people, humans that God loves and created on all sides of the argument? Doesn't it take more chutzpa to throw less punches?
I was seeking the peace you feel when you finish the stupid projects you set out to do and wrap the stupid gifts you buy and you exhale and heat up the cold coffee that was sitting since morning because you forgot about it.
And when I got that kind of peace (the everything is done and now I can rest my mind kind) - it was a beautiful thing.
As of today, I have had chronic headaches for exactly 43 months! (I know right. Happy Month-A-Versary. I'm making a cheese platter)
Aside from a total of 2 hours and 45 minutes without head pain, I have ached for that entire time.
I've heard people say things like happiness is a fleeting emotion and joy is eternal. And I've heard the bible say "be joyful always" but how? especially when you hurt. and very especially when you hurt then someone cuts you off in traffic.
But this week is the week of advent where I meditate on JOY. So I thought I'd at least give it a bit of a try, because I take advent very seriously.
So I dusted off some old books I read about coping with pain, and one of them suggests a useful exercise. It says to lay or sit comfortably in a quiet place. (dim the lights if it helps, but don't fall asleep just yet). Then take your thoughts to a time when you were really happy. Imagine as many details of that place as you can. The color of the sky, the feel of the ground, the smells, the taste of what you ate. Slow down every moment until you can start to draw out these details. What do you hear in the background? What is happening around you?
And then something quite nice happens - you start to tap into that happiness from your memory. I'm not kidding, you feel joy. (and for those of you in pain out there, some of it lifts. not all, but some. for me it's enough catch my breath again... and for those of you with memory problems, this helps with that too)
While some of my most peaceful and happy times are simple, un-pictured moments, there are a few that I that I can share....
this day I spent in the middle of the serengeti
and the dark hike to see a sunrise in arizona
and so many evenings in this darling place, the zoo
See that, visual proof that I've been blessed with the sweet life (and that's not leaving out 1,300 days of pain). I hope you sift through your memories too.. really go through the details of them. There is joy there.
Its the second week of advent and I've been spending this week thinking about that second little candle...
and I mean, really thinking about Love. (see the concussion messed with my sleep/wake cycle leaving me with many middle of the night, quiet thinking moments)
I am mostly working on reframing how to say "I really love you. so much. I do." this season, without spending money. (If anyone's figured it out, let me know)
Until then, here's how some people waxing poetic about love to some highly deserving subjects.
Love to our World
"Love Is..." by Common
Love to our Love
"Drunkard's Prayer" by Over the Rhine
You're my water. You're my wine. You're my whiskey from time to time.
(my crush on my husband is summed up in this)
Love to our Lord
"Selah" by Lauryn Hill
...and then He came. (this song 'gets' Christmas quite well if you ask me)
note: I do think these are worth a full listen.... a pause and a listen and a reflection because these songs are beautiful and this topic is worth it and we get too busy this time of year and well, maybe you don't sleep either.
I'm crazy about advent... stretching out the Christmas season, contemplating what really matters this time of year, a candle wreath!
This week is HOPE, and since the my well of hope is quite dry right now, I thought it was best to look outwards...
Today is WORLD AIDS DAY.
(and appropriately, here is the website)
http://www.worldaidsday.org/
Maybe I can spend a little time today considering a disease that still grips much of our world (almost 3 million new infections in 2009).
Years ago, when I was helping with a program in Nigeria, the face of AIDS was very real to me...
More recently it's been that guy I like on Project Runway
oh, Mondo
AIDS has been out of the national discussion for some time now, but according to a quick googling (that's how far from this issue I've fallen) the disease isn't disappearing anytime soon
So it's advent, and specifically the part of advent where I consider how I find hope out there. Or maybe that's wrong. Maybe it's how I find ways to provide hope. To fill other dry wells. Tonight I'm going to a candlelight service on my former university campus. So I'll be doing the only thing my little liturgical heart knows how to do - gather and light a flame.
