Hey there...
I've thought about community and family a lot lately. Much of my writing has centered around academic reflection and ministry. But, I am also faced with a daily mirror of my own personal struggle and those that lift me up in the moments. I'm struck by how little I've actually accomplished on my own, I'm struck by the shear love and utter acceptance of so very many people in my life. I'm also (many times) paralyzingly struck by the fact that if these people were to disappear I would doubt myself, human nature, the existence of God and other items too numerous to count.
We are all afraid. We all have a gut on things and either charge ahead anyway, become paralyzed, tell ourselves a different narrative, or run in the opposite direction. Our goals are moving targets, our audience changes daily, people both annoy the crap out of us and love us beyond recognition. We exist in a realm of failures and possibilities. Some days we are able to be embraced by others, held up with the breath of other's existence...other days we fall apart.
Tell someone you give a shit, tell them they matter. Don't lie, don't say it if you don't mean it...but, when you do mean it, when they mean everything to you, tell them. And, forget to remind them that they annoy the shit out of you sometimes...because they know it, they never forget that. But, they forget that they are loved...we all forget. And, when someone calls into the night...listen, because you might miss it. When you hear them...because you will if you listen...echo back, utter whatever sustenance you can muster...because tomorrow, you might need to hear that very same echo...
Peace,
M
P.S. I'm in love with secular music that touches my soul. Music doesn't have to be religious to be spiritual. This is what I am listening to right now:
Hey Brother
What if I'm far from home?
Oh brother I will hear you call.
What if I'd lose it all?
Oh sister, I will help you out.
Sunday, November 2, 2014
Thursday, October 16, 2014
Reconnecting
I'm looking at the blog statistics and I've had 4900 views of various posts. It's an absolute feeling of awe and humbleness that this story...my nonsense narratives have been viewed that many times over the past couple of years. I realize that many people and bloggers that I follow have thousands or millions of hits on a daily basis. But, this was never intended to be something of serious consequence. It started out as a writing assignment and people have been so supportive along the way.
Today, I simply want to reconnect...with myself and all of you. There seems to be some confusion amidst the real and "the Facebook" about my identity and personal ideologies. So, I will utilize this platform as a basis for clarification regarding where I stand theologically, personally, politically, and in regards to most anything...
This morning a "friend" that I have known since the age of twelve commented on a post on my timeline. I merely posted the following link Same Sex Marriage will Generate Millions in Spending For Louisiana. My friend and fellow Christian posted the following "Are you for or against same-sex marriage? I do not feel money is a legitimate reason to overturn God's designed and perfect plan."
Sigh.
My response immediately was just that...to sigh. It hurts my heart that I've been less than clear about my response to LGBTQ issues. However, I prayed for a few moments and this was my response to my dear friend (and also to all of you):
I think God's perfect plan is only overturned when we try to mandate love and what that looks like. This economics article would be a bonus, not a reason. If you want to discuss things further, I will do so happily. But, I'm attending an open and affirming Seminary/Divinity program at Wake Forest University. Peace and love.
I am well aware that many might be unaware of where my faith has led me. But, it has led me to the Divinity School at Wake Forest University. Here I am free to love and be loved. I've witnessed some of the most beautiful transformations of spirit and heart and it's been just a few short months. I've suffered various personal and spiritual crises of my own...that only this community could have addressed.
Moreover, I'm a woman that has experienced abuse and poverty as a child and as an adult. I can no longer sit on a fence that does not love and advocate for the love of all. God created us uniquely, beautifully, and perfectly. If we are to claim God/Christ/Holy Mother as our story...we have to stop looking at each other with contempt and claiming that who we are collectively or individually is not of God.
Mark 4 is the parable of the sower and the seed. The issue is ground and holiness...who are we to say what ground is holy? I know that I will get some responses and biblical passages that state otherwise...But, the more I learn, the more I know...the more I come to realize that more, not less is holy. What I think is dirty and unworthy is always holier than I could have dreamed and certainly holier than I thought of myself.
We need to stop thinking that we as Christians have all the answers and be willing to accept that there is no great than or less than. We might very well be a part of a cosmic math problem. But, the great mathematician is not us. We don't decide who fills the role of positive/negative/imaginary(marginalized)numbers, husband/wife, child/parent, teacher/student...we are simply called to love and allow those in God's Kingdom to self-define.
So...I am for whatever prevents those without rights to have them. In studying Hebrew...Eve was not described as Adam's wife...but, simply a woman...a partner. And, it was not until Adam "tried" out some other options that Eve was created. We are called to seek justice and allow peace, love, and the beauty of God's creation to shine...
I was able to sing with a choir from churches across Winston last week...This song intimately describes my personal theology and call to ministry. I hope these words speak to your soul as well...
For Everyone Born
Go delight with God in the creation of justice and joy...because it's maddening and beautiful all at the same time. The table is messy, varied in color, thought, mind, body, ability...perfect and beautiful.
Today, I simply want to reconnect...with myself and all of you. There seems to be some confusion amidst the real and "the Facebook" about my identity and personal ideologies. So, I will utilize this platform as a basis for clarification regarding where I stand theologically, personally, politically, and in regards to most anything...
This morning a "friend" that I have known since the age of twelve commented on a post on my timeline. I merely posted the following link Same Sex Marriage will Generate Millions in Spending For Louisiana. My friend and fellow Christian posted the following "Are you for or against same-sex marriage? I do not feel money is a legitimate reason to overturn God's designed and perfect plan."
Sigh.
My response immediately was just that...to sigh. It hurts my heart that I've been less than clear about my response to LGBTQ issues. However, I prayed for a few moments and this was my response to my dear friend (and also to all of you):
I think God's perfect plan is only overturned when we try to mandate love and what that looks like. This economics article would be a bonus, not a reason. If you want to discuss things further, I will do so happily. But, I'm attending an open and affirming Seminary/Divinity program at Wake Forest University. Peace and love.
I am well aware that many might be unaware of where my faith has led me. But, it has led me to the Divinity School at Wake Forest University. Here I am free to love and be loved. I've witnessed some of the most beautiful transformations of spirit and heart and it's been just a few short months. I've suffered various personal and spiritual crises of my own...that only this community could have addressed.
Moreover, I'm a woman that has experienced abuse and poverty as a child and as an adult. I can no longer sit on a fence that does not love and advocate for the love of all. God created us uniquely, beautifully, and perfectly. If we are to claim God/Christ/Holy Mother as our story...we have to stop looking at each other with contempt and claiming that who we are collectively or individually is not of God.
Mark 4 is the parable of the sower and the seed. The issue is ground and holiness...who are we to say what ground is holy? I know that I will get some responses and biblical passages that state otherwise...But, the more I learn, the more I know...the more I come to realize that more, not less is holy. What I think is dirty and unworthy is always holier than I could have dreamed and certainly holier than I thought of myself.
We need to stop thinking that we as Christians have all the answers and be willing to accept that there is no great than or less than. We might very well be a part of a cosmic math problem. But, the great mathematician is not us. We don't decide who fills the role of positive/negative/imaginary(marginalized)numbers, husband/wife, child/parent, teacher/student...we are simply called to love and allow those in God's Kingdom to self-define.
So...I am for whatever prevents those without rights to have them. In studying Hebrew...Eve was not described as Adam's wife...but, simply a woman...a partner. And, it was not until Adam "tried" out some other options that Eve was created. We are called to seek justice and allow peace, love, and the beauty of God's creation to shine...
I was able to sing with a choir from churches across Winston last week...This song intimately describes my personal theology and call to ministry. I hope these words speak to your soul as well...
For Everyone Born, a Place at the Table
For everyone born, a place at the table,
for everyone born, clean water and bread,
a shelter, a space, a safe place for growing,
for everyone born, a star overhead,
and God will delight when we are creators
of justice and joy, compassion and peace:
yes, God will delight when we are creators
of justice, justice and joy!
For woman and man, a place at the table,
revising the roles, deciding the share,
with wisdom and grace, dividing the power,
for woman and man, a system that's fair,
and God will delight when we are creators
of justice and joy, compassion and peace:
yes, God will delight when we are creators
of justice, justice and joy!
For young and for old, a place at the table,
a voice to be heard, a part in the song,
the hands of a child in hands that are wrinkled,
for young and for old, the right to belong,
and God will delight when we are creators
of justice and joy, compassion and peace:
yes, God will delight when we are creators
of justice, justice and joy!
For just and unjust, a place at the table,
abuser, abused, with need to forgive,
in anger, in hurt, a mindset of mercy,
for just and unjust, a new way to live,
and God will delight when we are creators
of justice and joy, compassion and peace:
yes, God will delight when we are creators
of justice, justice and joy!
For everyone born, a place at the table,
to live without fear, and simply to be,
to work, to speak out, to witness and worship,
for everyone born, the right to be free,
and God will delight when we are creators
of justice and joy, compassion and peace:
yes, God will delight when we are creators
of justice, justice and joy!
* Optional verse
For gay and for straight, a place at the table,
a covenant shared, a welcoming space,
a rainbow of race and gender and colour,
for gay and for straight, the chalice of grace,
and God will delight when we are creators
of justice and joy, compassion and peace:
yes, God will delight when we are creators
of justice, justice and joy!
Shirley Erena Murray
Words © 1998 Hope Publishing Company
For Everyone Born
Go delight with God in the creation of justice and joy...because it's maddening and beautiful all at the same time. The table is messy, varied in color, thought, mind, body, ability...perfect and beautiful.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
"What Dreams May Come"
In "What Dreams May Come," "Chris Neilson dies to find himself in a heaven more amazing than he could have ever dreamed of. There is one thing missing: his wife. After he dies, his wife, Annie killed herself and went to hell. Chris decides to risk eternity in hades for the small chance that he will be able to bring her back to heaven."imdb
I keep thinking about the death of Robin Williams (July 21, 1951 – August 11, 2014). And, because I am no different from anyone else...I relate his life/death to my own. I think about this movie and remind myself that it is exactly that, a MOVIE. Chris and Annie end up spending eternity together. He traverses heaven and hell to locate her. He saves her from the demons that pull her inward.
There are at least 50 of my friends that have posted things on Facebook that go something like this, "Hey friends, please tell me (when you are in a good place) what you need when you are in a dark/bad/sad/lonely place. Because, I/we need you and can't fathom a world without you in it." Or, what about my "Christian" friends who refer to the act of suicide as selfish or condemn the individual to hell.
I will address the first sentiment. I think it's amazing that the world, our friend, and family care so deeply that they want to help. But, let's talk about this monster depression. First of all...the world can't save us, a night out won't save us, your love, your friendship, can't make it better. You see, these demons, dark shadows, and hopeless moments are so far inside of us...we sometimes don't recall they exist. Until...they do, and they consume our very personality. You might not see it, because we've become very good at being "on", going with the flow, sucking it up, pretending we are OK. We are the tough cookies, hard as nails, funny guys/gals. We give so much outwardly, we love unconditionally, we cry for you, take on your pain (knowing that you don't require or ask it of us, yet...somehow we can't avoid it), our hearts break for a world that we cannot fix, and then we come to the realization that we cannot fix what is wrong with us.
OK, so there's the crazy talk...I know today as I sit at my computer and listen to my dog howl, my daughter giggle...life is good. Yeah, it's messed up and people die. But, overall...it's a beautiful world we live in. But, depression is a bitch. She coats everything with this shadow of pain. Laughing hurts, crying hurts more, pretending hurts...but, being honest and vulnerable...that is the monster of all demons. Because, when we are in it...we can't imagine that anyone is as screwed up and damaged as we are. We still love you and realistically, the issue is that we don't want to infect you, the world, those we love with this bs disease that we can only imagine as a plague of darkness desiring to take over the world. So, it would be easier...to make some other decisions, to end things.
I made a choice in 2006, it wasn't the first time. But, it was perhaps the worst bout of depression I have ever experienced. I've had many since. But, none that damaging, dark, or extreme. I'm lucky. I took 60 pills and only have some mild kidney damage. I HATE therapy, especially the part about finding a new therapist and telling him/her my story. But, it keeps me involved and holds me accountable. I've been off of medication for two years. I'm not sure that I will be off forever. For now, I'm holding my own.
The other stuff...let's stop with all the judgements. You didn't choose to tear your ACL, have a heart attack, or suffer from breast cancer. Robin Williams didn't choose to die this way. I'm certain that if he could have chosen...he would have wished to walk his daughter down the aisle, rock grandchildren to sleep, and grow old with his beautiful wife. He was kidnapped, and dragged kicking and screaming to a dark dungeon of a place...a place that no one should be subjected to. And, I believe that he experienced a Hell that many of us can only imagine. The God that holds my hand and softly whispers for me to "get up, it's a new day", is a God of love and mercy. I simply cannot imagine that God doing anything less than comforting Robin and drying the tears of our most beloved clown.
I love you all...and hope that when you are in your dark place...you can truly remember, there is light...these moments are all temporary, transient, impermanent. Today...feel the son on your face, laugh a little, play with puppies...tomorrow will come.
Friday, August 8, 2014
Trying to find my way back to blogging...
My last blog was more than a month ago. We had just moved to NC. I still love it, by the way. However, I've found the dining out options a little (much) lacking. I've been assured both that I just haven't been to the right spots yet...and, that our area does not boast of what I've experienced in the KCMO, NYC, Omaha, and Phoenix areas. Honestly, if that is all I really miss (friends and family aside)...I'll take it.
This post will ramble. I'm planning on it....I think we need to catch up and get reacquainted with one another.
School officially starts in about two weeks. J and I have orientation on the same day. WTH? My littlest one is going to be a Freshman and I am a first year div student. B is back in KS and has some planning of his own to do. He decided NY wasn't for him and that he is going to work his way up the figurative food chain of the food business. His decision nearly wrecked me (and our finances). However, I've decided to help when asked and allow him to find his way. If you wouldn't mind saying a little prayer for B and my sanity...I would be very grateful.
J is finding her way here too. She has volunteered with VBS at church. She has an "in" at a local vet clinic and plans on volunteering there as well. Additionally, she seems to have found a great fit for her with a local dance company. We've started a donation page to help defer some of the massive costs associated with serious dance study...
To help J reach her dreams...donate here
Above is probably what I am most grateful for today...It's quiet in the bungalow and the rev. and I are sitting on the couch watching nonsense. The three other ladies of the house are sleeping off a rough day. Eleanor Rigby is the husky on the left (near the coffee table), Penny Lane is the shelter special in the middle (near the TV), and J is sleeping in her chair...Missing B a bit, but it's nice sharing this with them.
I recently went back to Fremont for my mumble 20 mumble year reunion. I need to apologize to a lot of people. I drank waaaay too much. I can honestly say that I haven't been drunk, really drunk in a great many years. Saturday was why. But, let me give you a bit of context. My ex-husband died a few years ago. And, the whole thing was just a mess. This is my son's father, they guy I saved myself for, blah blah. Anyway, we graduated together, got married, had a baby...got divorced...needless to say it wasn't ideal. And, I'm not going to say anything negative about him here. It's unfair and unrelated.
So, I decided to go back to this town...this town that haunts me for so many reasons. Paid a ridiculous amount of money for dinner, flight, a hotel and on...But, my dear friend Cassie picked out a table and drinking commenced. All the tables had pages copied out of our yearbook...I don't have any of mine. I've lived all over the country and I'm certain they are lost for good. But, anyhoo...guess what page what on our table??? Yup, dead ex husband and first many things.
So, I thought I would be ok with it. We continued to drink btw I only drink wine and hard alcohol. This particular event require the hard stuff (double vodka cranberries), until I had to start paying for my own. Lame. So, we ventured in to eat...the food was awful. AWFUL. I tried a couple of bites. I don't carry my few extra for no reason...I like good food.
So, I chose not to eat and continued to drink. Anyway, it went downhill fast...I said things I regret and danced probably quite poorly. So, I'M ssooooooo sorrry. I know global apologies are unfair...so, if I own you a personal one...remind me and I will get right on that.
This post will ramble. I'm planning on it....I think we need to catch up and get reacquainted with one another.
School officially starts in about two weeks. J and I have orientation on the same day. WTH? My littlest one is going to be a Freshman and I am a first year div student. B is back in KS and has some planning of his own to do. He decided NY wasn't for him and that he is going to work his way up the figurative food chain of the food business. His decision nearly wrecked me (and our finances). However, I've decided to help when asked and allow him to find his way. If you wouldn't mind saying a little prayer for B and my sanity...I would be very grateful.
J is finding her way here too. She has volunteered with VBS at church. She has an "in" at a local vet clinic and plans on volunteering there as well. Additionally, she seems to have found a great fit for her with a local dance company. We've started a donation page to help defer some of the massive costs associated with serious dance study...
To help J reach her dreams...donate here
I recently went back to Fremont for my mumble 20 mumble year reunion. I need to apologize to a lot of people. I drank waaaay too much. I can honestly say that I haven't been drunk, really drunk in a great many years. Saturday was why. But, let me give you a bit of context. My ex-husband died a few years ago. And, the whole thing was just a mess. This is my son's father, they guy I saved myself for, blah blah. Anyway, we graduated together, got married, had a baby...got divorced...needless to say it wasn't ideal. And, I'm not going to say anything negative about him here. It's unfair and unrelated.
So, I decided to go back to this town...this town that haunts me for so many reasons. Paid a ridiculous amount of money for dinner, flight, a hotel and on...But, my dear friend Cassie picked out a table and drinking commenced. All the tables had pages copied out of our yearbook...I don't have any of mine. I've lived all over the country and I'm certain they are lost for good. But, anyhoo...guess what page what on our table??? Yup, dead ex husband and first many things.
So, I thought I would be ok with it. We continued to drink btw I only drink wine and hard alcohol. This particular event require the hard stuff (double vodka cranberries), until I had to start paying for my own. Lame. So, we ventured in to eat...the food was awful. AWFUL. I tried a couple of bites. I don't carry my few extra for no reason...I like good food.
So, I chose not to eat and continued to drink. Anyway, it went downhill fast...I said things I regret and danced probably quite poorly. So, I'M ssooooooo sorrry. I know global apologies are unfair...so, if I own you a personal one...remind me and I will get right on that.
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| Should have known it was gonna be rough when there was a Shriner's Train on the highway...
The next couple of pics are something I'm truly grateful for...I found a great artist (rather someone found me at a meet-up and suggested him), C.W. Eldridge. This guy is a legend. Seriously, he is amazing and has a great story. Anyway, I've wanted a cover-up of an awful piece of work...I love the theology, hate the place I was and the art. So, Chuck is fantastic and came up with an amazing creation...I love it and it will continue up my arm...plus, here's the meaning behind it : Lotus flowers mean purity of speech, mind, and body....rising above the waters of desire and attachment. the lotus is a symbol for awakening to the spiritual reality of life.
So...for what it's worth...I have some closure and and a beautiful and spiritual something on my arm. Don't get me wrong, I'm not "pure"...but, the place I'm in a place of acceptance of myself and others.
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| Old ick... |
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| New Love... http://www.tattooarchive.com/
Anyway...that's what's up with me...next time I will post something more substantive. See you on the other side...Always, M
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Friday, June 6, 2014
We can try to get in the way...
Well, sorry....it's been more than a month since my last post. I've had a hundred thoughts, reasons, insights, momentous moments worth posting. I just really wanted to enjoy life for a minute, a moment, awhile. And, life did happen...so much, so fast, so many joys and losses all at the same time. All of it...so beautiful, the juxtaposition between the good and the bad, the ups and downs, the heartaches and the abounding joys. It was almost too big, too unfathomable and sacred to reduce to a blog. I guess though, I feel compelled to write about all of it so that I don't forget this space, time, and emotion.
A few weeks ago, our church had Youth Sunday. It's obvious to those of you that attend church what this usually entails. First, attendance is always rather low...I could suppose a great many reasons for this...But, it truly is not the point. Second, the youth of said church perform most, if not all aspects of worship. They pray, they greet, they read scripture, preach, and give the benediction. And, without simply giving you a play by play of our particular service...the text for the day was 1 Timothy 4:12. Feel free to look it up, however the actual content is not what is paramount in this particular conversation.
I want to clarify, that this was a very busy weekend for our family. And, I had struggled as a minister of youth and a mother as to how I could be present to both the kids/church I served, and to myself/family. My son graduated on Saturday. This was huge as he has hated school since the first grade and struggled with both learning difficulties and is on the Autism Spectrum. We had family in town, a party to plan, gifts to buy etc. Additionally, B had gotten accepted into the Culinary program at a prestigious school in NY and had nine days between graduation and class start.
So, the anticipation of a late Saturday night coupled with three services on Sunday morning...was daunting at the least. But, these kids provided the most honest and genuine authentic worship that I had experienced in a very long time. We have such a diverse group. We have the popular kids,marginalized kids, kids of different races, genders, different socioeconomic groups, different age groups, and a completely diverse group of life experiences. We had three different sermons on the same text. All responded to a question "Why us?". Some were light and conversational. Some were read via typed manuscripts, some were very extemporaneous. All the messages were raw and the light of these kids shone unlike we had experienced in that space. These kids intimately know God and can lead a church.
The message of God's love wasn't just heard in the sermons. The message was visible with my favorite kiddo sitting in the front row. The kid who HATES God, church, and authority. He was there, present, glowing...just as I can only imagine the glow of God to be. The quiet, funny, middle schooler...she provided an offertory that not only showed her grace and love, but God's.
How could I possibly have thought that I didn't have time for this? How could I have given a moment of consideration to missing this wonderful Sunday? RLH, my mentor, minister, supervisor and many other things...made it so clear to me that I could not short-cut this Sunday. And, he was right. They were ready, these kids would not disappoint...they would again rise to the occasion. So, we had three beautiful services. And, then proceeded to my son's graduation party. I didn't think I'd have enough energy, love, support to get through the day...and I WAS SO WRONG...I had more than enough of all those things. In fact, I think I was being ministered to that day.
There's this text in Job that has been burning in my head for the last month...I think it's because there are more questions than answers. I think that being type A, a mother, a professional...I have to have a plan. I have this desire to "know" how things are going to pan out, to plan, foresee...and perhaps, that isn't possible. Perhaps God has a plan for us that is only possible if we step out of the way.
5 Who hath laid the measures thereof, if thou knowest? or who hath stretched the line upon it?
6 Whereupon are the foundations thereof fastened? or who laid the corner stone thereof;
7 When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy?
Do you ever put yourself in the scripture? Like in Jesus's place when he is trying to convince the disciples of something??? What about God...is it that far removed from trying to reason with a toddler, teenager, aging parent?
I grapple with things for weeks. I over-plan, planning consumes me. I don't know why. Intellectually, I am fully aware that all the planning in the world doesn't make the outcome any more or less so. In fact, I think sometimes our over analyzing leads us down our path and not God's.
Once we acknowledge that we don't have a clue and leave the space for God to work...God does in fact work. We can try to get in the way, God's way. We can say, we don't have time, we are tired, it's too hard, we don't have the money, we are the wrong color, gender...and on and on...But, eventually...the whisper of God becomes a tap on the shoulder, a conversation, a shout...that our voice, our passions, our face of God has a path that is valuable and all we can do is get in the way for the moment. When we feel an urge and brush it aside, we are just postponing the coming into our true selves and our the version we are meant to be.
I am so grateful for a God that has patiently nudged me on this new path for the better part of 20 years. I did the math last week and I've worked in the food industry off and on for more than 23 years. And, I'm not that old...my food story started as a malnourished girl.
Who am I to get in the way of myself and the work that I am called to do? Moreover, who are we to get in the way of God's work in others? Who are we to tell our sons and daughters that they can't be who they were meant to be because of sexual orientation, disability, skin color...???
The story of the resurrection is one of disagreement between many theologians. My baptist grandmother and the fundamental church up the street here in NC believes that Jesus literally died and came back to life. I have a friend that goes to the Unity Temple in KC and he believes the story at best is a loose interpretation of our daily life.
I'm not entirely certain of where I stand on resurrection. Perhaps it literally happened, perhaps not. I'm just not sure that it matters so much to me anymore. Because the story of resurrection can be seen everywhere we look. Here are examples that I have seen through the last year...some are moments from my own life, some are moments in ministry, and many are moments of friends, family, and acquaintances.
A few weeks ago, our church had Youth Sunday. It's obvious to those of you that attend church what this usually entails. First, attendance is always rather low...I could suppose a great many reasons for this...But, it truly is not the point. Second, the youth of said church perform most, if not all aspects of worship. They pray, they greet, they read scripture, preach, and give the benediction. And, without simply giving you a play by play of our particular service...the text for the day was 1 Timothy 4:12. Feel free to look it up, however the actual content is not what is paramount in this particular conversation.
I want to clarify, that this was a very busy weekend for our family. And, I had struggled as a minister of youth and a mother as to how I could be present to both the kids/church I served, and to myself/family. My son graduated on Saturday. This was huge as he has hated school since the first grade and struggled with both learning difficulties and is on the Autism Spectrum. We had family in town, a party to plan, gifts to buy etc. Additionally, B had gotten accepted into the Culinary program at a prestigious school in NY and had nine days between graduation and class start.
So, the anticipation of a late Saturday night coupled with three services on Sunday morning...was daunting at the least. But, these kids provided the most honest and genuine authentic worship that I had experienced in a very long time. We have such a diverse group. We have the popular kids,marginalized kids, kids of different races, genders, different socioeconomic groups, different age groups, and a completely diverse group of life experiences. We had three different sermons on the same text. All responded to a question "Why us?". Some were light and conversational. Some were read via typed manuscripts, some were very extemporaneous. All the messages were raw and the light of these kids shone unlike we had experienced in that space. These kids intimately know God and can lead a church.
The message of God's love wasn't just heard in the sermons. The message was visible with my favorite kiddo sitting in the front row. The kid who HATES God, church, and authority. He was there, present, glowing...just as I can only imagine the glow of God to be. The quiet, funny, middle schooler...she provided an offertory that not only showed her grace and love, but God's.
How could I possibly have thought that I didn't have time for this? How could I have given a moment of consideration to missing this wonderful Sunday? RLH, my mentor, minister, supervisor and many other things...made it so clear to me that I could not short-cut this Sunday. And, he was right. They were ready, these kids would not disappoint...they would again rise to the occasion. So, we had three beautiful services. And, then proceeded to my son's graduation party. I didn't think I'd have enough energy, love, support to get through the day...and I WAS SO WRONG...I had more than enough of all those things. In fact, I think I was being ministered to that day.
There's this text in Job that has been burning in my head for the last month...I think it's because there are more questions than answers. I think that being type A, a mother, a professional...I have to have a plan. I have this desire to "know" how things are going to pan out, to plan, foresee...and perhaps, that isn't possible. Perhaps God has a plan for us that is only possible if we step out of the way.
Job 38:4 - 38:7
4 Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? declare, if thou hast understanding.5 Who hath laid the measures thereof, if thou knowest? or who hath stretched the line upon it?
6 Whereupon are the foundations thereof fastened? or who laid the corner stone thereof;
7 When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy?
Do you ever put yourself in the scripture? Like in Jesus's place when he is trying to convince the disciples of something??? What about God...is it that far removed from trying to reason with a toddler, teenager, aging parent?
I grapple with things for weeks. I over-plan, planning consumes me. I don't know why. Intellectually, I am fully aware that all the planning in the world doesn't make the outcome any more or less so. In fact, I think sometimes our over analyzing leads us down our path and not God's.
Once we acknowledge that we don't have a clue and leave the space for God to work...God does in fact work. We can try to get in the way, God's way. We can say, we don't have time, we are tired, it's too hard, we don't have the money, we are the wrong color, gender...and on and on...But, eventually...the whisper of God becomes a tap on the shoulder, a conversation, a shout...that our voice, our passions, our face of God has a path that is valuable and all we can do is get in the way for the moment. When we feel an urge and brush it aside, we are just postponing the coming into our true selves and our the version we are meant to be.
I am so grateful for a God that has patiently nudged me on this new path for the better part of 20 years. I did the math last week and I've worked in the food industry off and on for more than 23 years. And, I'm not that old...my food story started as a malnourished girl.
Who am I to get in the way of myself and the work that I am called to do? Moreover, who are we to get in the way of God's work in others? Who are we to tell our sons and daughters that they can't be who they were meant to be because of sexual orientation, disability, skin color...???
The story of the resurrection is one of disagreement between many theologians. My baptist grandmother and the fundamental church up the street here in NC believes that Jesus literally died and came back to life. I have a friend that goes to the Unity Temple in KC and he believes the story at best is a loose interpretation of our daily life.
I'm not entirely certain of where I stand on resurrection. Perhaps it literally happened, perhaps not. I'm just not sure that it matters so much to me anymore. Because the story of resurrection can be seen everywhere we look. Here are examples that I have seen through the last year...some are moments from my own life, some are moments in ministry, and many are moments of friends, family, and acquaintances.
- A homeless veteran that was so deeply ashamed of his feet. He allowed one of our youth to perform a foot-washing for him and give him a sack lunch. (Tears flowed all around...it was that beautiful)
- A mother who spent a year in therapy (court mandated due to a domestic violence order), who is now pursuing a new life, education, and professional endeavors.
- A son who is making an effort to have a relationship with his father after years of distance.
- An addict who is recovering and has been sober for 6 months.
- A mother who recognizes that her elementary son struggles everyday with Autism and continues to support him in those struggles. She advocates for him with teachers, legislatures, administrators, and physicians.
- A family who left most that they loved behind. And, has just begun to experience a new life, in a new place, with new people, and a new home.
Who are we to say that resurrection doesn't exist??? We just need to open our eyes...
Sunday, April 27, 2014
I don't pray for money...
This is why I don't pray for money...You see, I am certain that God has an immense sense of humor. Bug dude/dudette is the master of sick and twisted...
So, my son got into one of (if not THE biggest) culinary schools in the country. Said school wants loads of our money. They want current money, past money, and future moolaa. I have some wonderful friends and family that chipped in for the deposit. Because, moving and planning graduate school myself...well, it left our family very "cash poor" as they say.
Anyway, I NEVER pray for money. I mean never. I think it's bad form and a little unethical. I'm not sure where I got that from. I'm certain that there isn't much theology to my "rule". But, it is what it is.
So, I made an exception this time. Said (wonderful, aspirational, magnificent) culinary school requires half tuition prior to disbursing financial aid. Holy Hell!!! So, I prayed. I prayed God would make it rain. And, as my friend Lynda and I were discussing..."Sometimes when you pray for money, God gives you a JOB!" Or, in my case a third one. I'm helping out a restaurant in need of staff and good servers.
As I sit here this morning, swollen ankles and fingers from being on my feet hours and hours a day...I'm reminded that I don't pray for money. But, I'm also reminded that this will pass. The need is temporary. And, GOD is so GOOD...He's so good to me.
So, my son got into one of (if not THE biggest) culinary schools in the country. Said school wants loads of our money. They want current money, past money, and future moolaa. I have some wonderful friends and family that chipped in for the deposit. Because, moving and planning graduate school myself...well, it left our family very "cash poor" as they say.
Anyway, I NEVER pray for money. I mean never. I think it's bad form and a little unethical. I'm not sure where I got that from. I'm certain that there isn't much theology to my "rule". But, it is what it is.
So, I made an exception this time. Said (wonderful, aspirational, magnificent) culinary school requires half tuition prior to disbursing financial aid. Holy Hell!!! So, I prayed. I prayed God would make it rain. And, as my friend Lynda and I were discussing..."Sometimes when you pray for money, God gives you a JOB!" Or, in my case a third one. I'm helping out a restaurant in need of staff and good servers.
As I sit here this morning, swollen ankles and fingers from being on my feet hours and hours a day...I'm reminded that I don't pray for money. But, I'm also reminded that this will pass. The need is temporary. And, GOD is so GOOD...He's so good to me.
Saturday, April 12, 2014
When strength leaves us...
Parenting is the most difficult job in the world. I've detassled, been a caregiver, cleaned toilets during rush on a Saturday night, and put up with belligerent guests. Being the mother of two beautiful, talented, smart kids...it's the best/worst experience of my life.
Hebrews 12:11 For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.
You can't say "uncle", you don't get re-do's, you don't get the blessing of grace...because to them, you should know. You should know what they need, you should know how to protect them (when you barely know how to protect yourself), you should be able to fix things in the past, present, and future.
Perhaps the most difficult part of all is that, as parents...our flaws are exposed...ALL the time. We stand "naked" in front of them as we lash out because we've had a long day, week, life...they say they hate us, with their limited vocabulary...because they know it's safe. But, it hurts...it cuts, it stings and we punish them.
I had a heated heart-to-heart with my son last night who was grieving the relationship (or lack thereof) with his late father. I tried to explain to him that his father did the best he could. My son was so angry, tears streaming down his face. He said simply (pulling his hair), "it wasn't good enough." I continued to explain, that as parents we try to do better than our parents. Obviously, this is from a perspective of someone with a less than stellar childhood. And, that some days all we can do is show up. This further pointed out that his father didn't "show up". WTH? Why did I say that?
All I'm saying is this is so f-ing hard. This seeing them struggle, this mortality of parenting, this constant thing that is more innate than breathing itself. I can't imagine my life without them...I don't know who I would be. I'm so grateful for them and the person I've become because of them. We are all much older than pictured, literally and figuratively. One is graduating, one is going to off to High School, and the other is still trying to put one foot in front of the other...
Peace,
Hebrews 12:11 For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.
You can't say "uncle", you don't get re-do's, you don't get the blessing of grace...because to them, you should know. You should know what they need, you should know how to protect them (when you barely know how to protect yourself), you should be able to fix things in the past, present, and future.
Perhaps the most difficult part of all is that, as parents...our flaws are exposed...ALL the time. We stand "naked" in front of them as we lash out because we've had a long day, week, life...they say they hate us, with their limited vocabulary...because they know it's safe. But, it hurts...it cuts, it stings and we punish them.
I had a heated heart-to-heart with my son last night who was grieving the relationship (or lack thereof) with his late father. I tried to explain to him that his father did the best he could. My son was so angry, tears streaming down his face. He said simply (pulling his hair), "it wasn't good enough." I continued to explain, that as parents we try to do better than our parents. Obviously, this is from a perspective of someone with a less than stellar childhood. And, that some days all we can do is show up. This further pointed out that his father didn't "show up". WTH? Why did I say that?
All I'm saying is this is so f-ing hard. This seeing them struggle, this mortality of parenting, this constant thing that is more innate than breathing itself. I can't imagine my life without them...I don't know who I would be. I'm so grateful for them and the person I've become because of them. We are all much older than pictured, literally and figuratively. One is graduating, one is going to off to High School, and the other is still trying to put one foot in front of the other...
Peace,
Saturday, March 22, 2014
"The Wind of God"
Totally stole this title. We visited a church a couple of weeks ago. And, though I loved the sermon and took notes on the sermon...I had this nagging other conversation going on in my head. Try as I might, I was either going crazy or praying/conversing with God. Keep in mind, the two ideas are not mutually exclusive. However, I choose door number one.
In life, I think I'm an extrovert. I come from sales and the restaurant business. I'm pretty outgoing...until I am not. I love talking to people. I make friends easily. I genuinely love people. On the flip side, I require loads of space, quiet moments, and alone time. I find many conversations exhausting. Deep listening is an exhausting task if done right. You inevitably have more questions than answers and certainly, rarely a solution. So, the conversation always continues. It is fluid and one with a brain like mine rarely steps off the carousel and is constantly thinking about OPP's...and that somehow I can help. Over the past two years, I have learned many things...I am not an extrovert. I am increasingly more drawn to introversion. At best, I am an omnivert and allow the situation to determine my mode of being. That too is exhausting by the way.
Anyway, I digress...I have a few observations and a bunch of questions from church the other day. I don't think they are unique to me. However, in greater world/justice discussions...my hope is that they are in fact at least a bit relevant.
In a community, family, choir, God's people, should there need to be a competition for who can yell, sing, recite (specifically a unified reading, prayer, or response that all are meant to sound as the voice), chant...etc.??? Should one voice rise above the "Unified" voice? Does a quieter prayer=a less effective prayer? Does a louder, more visibly exercised prayer=better chance of results, or that the individual is somehow a better prayer???
If I want to be loud...like so loud that the person next to me can't hear their own voice...is that not problematic? Do I have an obligation to not only hear my neighbor, but to at the least allow my neighbor to hear him/herself? Is it possible, that the loudness of one individual voice can diminish not only other individual voices, but also the collective voice of a group and their mission??? Isn't the ability to hear (and truly see) one another impacted by the competitions to be seen and heard?
At what point is it necessary to quiet our own voices to hear the voices of others, and in fact YOUR voice in and through them? When we say "Thanks be to God" is it not of value to hear those voices of our brothers and sisters also being thankful? When worship becomes a handful of voices...we diminish the call of others to be there are to be heard as well.
I constantly discuss church as a choir...all voices rubbing, singing, creating this deep rich sound that we would not hear if all were not heard. I am always troubled when the service is much like a bunch of soloists showing us how loud they can say, sing, be...It seems to be one is more about God's people as a whole and the other is about God's people in parts as individuals. Both are necessary. I just want to be able to feel the breath of God when the wind is just a breeze. I want to hear the crack in my neighbors voice because this song made her think of her grandson in Iraq. I want to hear a baby squeal with your joy. And, sometimes...I feel that even I am too loud to hear your whispers. But, I promise to do better.
Peace,
M...
P.S. Next blog will refer to the Easter foot-washing service that our youth will be performing with Artists Helping the Homeless. Contact me if you have any interest in donating new socks, volunteering, or making lunch for the volunteers. Should be a beautiful and moving afternoon.
In life, I think I'm an extrovert. I come from sales and the restaurant business. I'm pretty outgoing...until I am not. I love talking to people. I make friends easily. I genuinely love people. On the flip side, I require loads of space, quiet moments, and alone time. I find many conversations exhausting. Deep listening is an exhausting task if done right. You inevitably have more questions than answers and certainly, rarely a solution. So, the conversation always continues. It is fluid and one with a brain like mine rarely steps off the carousel and is constantly thinking about OPP's...and that somehow I can help. Over the past two years, I have learned many things...I am not an extrovert. I am increasingly more drawn to introversion. At best, I am an omnivert and allow the situation to determine my mode of being. That too is exhausting by the way.
Anyway, I digress...I have a few observations and a bunch of questions from church the other day. I don't think they are unique to me. However, in greater world/justice discussions...my hope is that they are in fact at least a bit relevant.
In a community, family, choir, God's people, should there need to be a competition for who can yell, sing, recite (specifically a unified reading, prayer, or response that all are meant to sound as the voice), chant...etc.??? Should one voice rise above the "Unified" voice? Does a quieter prayer=a less effective prayer? Does a louder, more visibly exercised prayer=better chance of results, or that the individual is somehow a better prayer???
If I want to be loud...like so loud that the person next to me can't hear their own voice...is that not problematic? Do I have an obligation to not only hear my neighbor, but to at the least allow my neighbor to hear him/herself? Is it possible, that the loudness of one individual voice can diminish not only other individual voices, but also the collective voice of a group and their mission??? Isn't the ability to hear (and truly see) one another impacted by the competitions to be seen and heard?
At what point is it necessary to quiet our own voices to hear the voices of others, and in fact YOUR voice in and through them? When we say "Thanks be to God" is it not of value to hear those voices of our brothers and sisters also being thankful? When worship becomes a handful of voices...we diminish the call of others to be there are to be heard as well.
I constantly discuss church as a choir...all voices rubbing, singing, creating this deep rich sound that we would not hear if all were not heard. I am always troubled when the service is much like a bunch of soloists showing us how loud they can say, sing, be...It seems to be one is more about God's people as a whole and the other is about God's people in parts as individuals. Both are necessary. I just want to be able to feel the breath of God when the wind is just a breeze. I want to hear the crack in my neighbors voice because this song made her think of her grandson in Iraq. I want to hear a baby squeal with your joy. And, sometimes...I feel that even I am too loud to hear your whispers. But, I promise to do better.
Peace,
M...
P.S. Next blog will refer to the Easter foot-washing service that our youth will be performing with Artists Helping the Homeless. Contact me if you have any interest in donating new socks, volunteering, or making lunch for the volunteers. Should be a beautiful and moving afternoon.
Sunday, March 9, 2014
To make bread...
Ok, so I need to start this day with an apology. This is a public apology for not reading a book that someone gifted to me last Valentine's Day. I didn't find spiritual/theological books "romantic". So, I shelved it and more than a year later...I picked it up and began reading what seemed like letters to myself/from myself, prayers to God/words from God, and hugely inspirational. So, Ryan...I'm sorry that I was such a jerk. Really.
This crazy life is full of uncertainties. For real. I get it. But, then there are things we (or at least I am) are so very certain of. Like breathing...I need it. I always need to breathe. There is never a moment that breathing becomes unnecessary. Love. Rest. Faith. Food. I put a period and capitalize all of these because individually, each can sustain us. When we don't feel loved, the faith that we are in fact loved can nudge us through a seemingly endless wilderness. When life is too much, a nap can be the holiest of endeavors. And, for my minister friends...the Eucharist (for the rest of us, including me...a simple meal) can be life-saving. Those of you that know me or have read this blog, know how important food is to me. But, the journey of the last two years and mostly the last eighteen months has definitively shown me that my story is so connected to God's story.
Back to the book...I'm going to include the two quotes that made me sigh out loud. Yes.
1-“To make bread or love, to dig in the earth, to feed an animal or cook for a stranger—these activities require no extensive commentary, no lucid theology. All they require is someone willing to bend, reach, chop, stir. Most of these tasks are so full of pleasure that there is no need to complicate things by calling them holy. And yet these are the same activities that change lives, sometimes all at once and sometimes more slowly, the way dripping water changes stone. In a world where faith is often construed as a way of thinking, bodily practices remind the willing that faith is a way of life.”
― Barbara Brown Taylor, An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith
A couple of things...I often get into a debate with a minister regarding the church. That the church is somehow separate from life, the world, material things. And, while to a certain extent, I will buy that. I don't believe that we need to overcomplicate the space of worship with tweeting, Facebook, gadgets, and iPads...I do believe that service, faith, and love are all actionable affairs. If we simply talk about doing, propose change, and discuss our love for one another...is it real? We can see the tree that exists and the hole left when it's uprooted. We can see scars left from abusive relationships. We see the shivering bodies in the cold when they have no home to warm them. So, to simply watch others do service and "manage" teams is perhaps more harmful than it seems. Feeding others, washing the feet of our friends, wrapping them in a warm blanket is not only symbolic of our faith and love...it is in fact the faith and love itself.
The bigger question is, what keeps us from acting? What keeps us from seeing each other and loving a stranger? I wonder if it's that in seeing the Other, might that make us more visible? Do we really want to be seen, or are we afraid?
2-“Wisdom is not gained by knowing what is right. Wisdom is gained by practicing what is right, and noticing what happens when that practice succeeds and when it fails.”
― Barbara Brown Taylor, An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith
Scary stuff. How important is it to "know" that the recipe for something will turn out? I'd like everything to work. Realistically, it's not how I operate. I know what flavors work together for the most part. And, sometimes the end result is an epic fail. But, what fun it is to rummage through my pantry and create a meal out of what we have.
I think for me that's what life has become, digging deep in my personal arsenal or pantry from which to give and offering it all up to whomever sits, stands, weeps in front of me. Then, surrounding myself with people who do the same. Some days we are all a hot mess, laying in ruins together. But, most days someone has the wherewithal to lift us up and we are able to take turns.
One of the best memories I have of food, love, and service was on a recent trip to New Orleans. My dear friend Manda and I traveled to New Orleans for a weekend. It was a quick trip and symbolic of some big changes in both of our lives. She had never been and I was visiting a placed beloved to me and so many others with different lenses. But, an old friend from school lives and works on a farm outside of the city. She works with amazing chefs and restaurateurs. So, we got the "industry", "I know the chef" treatment when we went out to dinner. I remember Manda so vividly saying how "full" she was after eleven courses and two bottles of wine. But, she kept trying new things and "eating the love". Manda is like 90 pounds, so there is no concern of gaining weight. Obviously, the rest of us have that to contend with. But, what a beautiful experience to "be loved" in a restaurant. My friend Jo is loved by the food community in New Orleans. And, by extension Manda and I were loved and served in such a way.
So back to that bread...errr Eucharist. I think feeding is a lost art. Those that do it well, do it with love and true vision. So, see each other, love each other, and feed each other...perhaps then, we can start to undo some of the damage we have done to one another and this earth. Today, all I am focusing on is seeing those around me and maybe in seeing them...I can see a piece of myself. But, I know I will definitely see pieces of God all around me.
This crazy life is full of uncertainties. For real. I get it. But, then there are things we (or at least I am) are so very certain of. Like breathing...I need it. I always need to breathe. There is never a moment that breathing becomes unnecessary. Love. Rest. Faith. Food. I put a period and capitalize all of these because individually, each can sustain us. When we don't feel loved, the faith that we are in fact loved can nudge us through a seemingly endless wilderness. When life is too much, a nap can be the holiest of endeavors. And, for my minister friends...the Eucharist (for the rest of us, including me...a simple meal) can be life-saving. Those of you that know me or have read this blog, know how important food is to me. But, the journey of the last two years and mostly the last eighteen months has definitively shown me that my story is so connected to God's story.
Back to the book...I'm going to include the two quotes that made me sigh out loud. Yes.
1-“To make bread or love, to dig in the earth, to feed an animal or cook for a stranger—these activities require no extensive commentary, no lucid theology. All they require is someone willing to bend, reach, chop, stir. Most of these tasks are so full of pleasure that there is no need to complicate things by calling them holy. And yet these are the same activities that change lives, sometimes all at once and sometimes more slowly, the way dripping water changes stone. In a world where faith is often construed as a way of thinking, bodily practices remind the willing that faith is a way of life.”
― Barbara Brown Taylor, An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith
A couple of things...I often get into a debate with a minister regarding the church. That the church is somehow separate from life, the world, material things. And, while to a certain extent, I will buy that. I don't believe that we need to overcomplicate the space of worship with tweeting, Facebook, gadgets, and iPads...I do believe that service, faith, and love are all actionable affairs. If we simply talk about doing, propose change, and discuss our love for one another...is it real? We can see the tree that exists and the hole left when it's uprooted. We can see scars left from abusive relationships. We see the shivering bodies in the cold when they have no home to warm them. So, to simply watch others do service and "manage" teams is perhaps more harmful than it seems. Feeding others, washing the feet of our friends, wrapping them in a warm blanket is not only symbolic of our faith and love...it is in fact the faith and love itself.
The bigger question is, what keeps us from acting? What keeps us from seeing each other and loving a stranger? I wonder if it's that in seeing the Other, might that make us more visible? Do we really want to be seen, or are we afraid?
2-“Wisdom is not gained by knowing what is right. Wisdom is gained by practicing what is right, and noticing what happens when that practice succeeds and when it fails.”
― Barbara Brown Taylor, An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith
Scary stuff. How important is it to "know" that the recipe for something will turn out? I'd like everything to work. Realistically, it's not how I operate. I know what flavors work together for the most part. And, sometimes the end result is an epic fail. But, what fun it is to rummage through my pantry and create a meal out of what we have.
I think for me that's what life has become, digging deep in my personal arsenal or pantry from which to give and offering it all up to whomever sits, stands, weeps in front of me. Then, surrounding myself with people who do the same. Some days we are all a hot mess, laying in ruins together. But, most days someone has the wherewithal to lift us up and we are able to take turns.
One of the best memories I have of food, love, and service was on a recent trip to New Orleans. My dear friend Manda and I traveled to New Orleans for a weekend. It was a quick trip and symbolic of some big changes in both of our lives. She had never been and I was visiting a placed beloved to me and so many others with different lenses. But, an old friend from school lives and works on a farm outside of the city. She works with amazing chefs and restaurateurs. So, we got the "industry", "I know the chef" treatment when we went out to dinner. I remember Manda so vividly saying how "full" she was after eleven courses and two bottles of wine. But, she kept trying new things and "eating the love". Manda is like 90 pounds, so there is no concern of gaining weight. Obviously, the rest of us have that to contend with. But, what a beautiful experience to "be loved" in a restaurant. My friend Jo is loved by the food community in New Orleans. And, by extension Manda and I were loved and served in such a way.
So back to that bread...errr Eucharist. I think feeding is a lost art. Those that do it well, do it with love and true vision. So, see each other, love each other, and feed each other...perhaps then, we can start to undo some of the damage we have done to one another and this earth. Today, all I am focusing on is seeing those around me and maybe in seeing them...I can see a piece of myself. But, I know I will definitely see pieces of God all around me.
Thursday, March 6, 2014
Lent
I'm posting my Lent post. I've had some requests...
Taking this Ash Wednesday to reflect on the "ashes" in my own life and the ashes that I came out of. Lent for me it is not about giving up something I have, am, or desire. It's about realizing the perspective of change and the transitory nature of all life. That everything is temporary. The hurt felt last night, is not permanent. The joy of a laugh with loved ones should be cherished, because life too is impermanent. Through grace (and only grace, because none are perfect), we can rise above, live on, and love through anything...because we are loved and we are each a fragment of God and each other. Though I will not be in attendance this evening for services, I recognize the impact of today and carry it with me. Here's to finding our piece of peace today, pushing through this holy time.
Trying to find my piece of peace today, as I realize that I don't have a day off until next Friday.
Peace,
M
Taking this Ash Wednesday to reflect on the "ashes" in my own life and the ashes that I came out of. Lent for me it is not about giving up something I have, am, or desire. It's about realizing the perspective of change and the transitory nature of all life. That everything is temporary. The hurt felt last night, is not permanent. The joy of a laugh with loved ones should be cherished, because life too is impermanent. Through grace (and only grace, because none are perfect), we can rise above, live on, and love through anything...because we are loved and we are each a fragment of God and each other. Though I will not be in attendance this evening for services, I recognize the impact of today and carry it with me. Here's to finding our piece of peace today, pushing through this holy time.
Trying to find my piece of peace today, as I realize that I don't have a day off until next Friday.
Peace,
M
Monday, March 3, 2014
One more moment
This weekend has been interesting. I'm definitely not in the best shape physically. I've put on about 5 lbs since the marathon. And, I've injured my back pretty significantly at work.
But, this weekend was pretty fantastic with my kids. I mean really, it's the tiniest of things that make the difference. Bren worked much of the weekend. And, when I had to discipline him regarding his room...he worked on it and didn't lose his mind. I mean he was pissed and slammed a couple of doors. But...that was it? Yup. Wow, I'll take it.
And, though Julia is driving me nuts with her yoga pants, too much make up, short skirts, and chucks...she was my little girl at least twice this weekend. Once was watching a movie. We were giggling and throwing licorice at each other. She went to the bathroom and said..."Hey mom, guess what I found in my panties??? (knowing I hate that word)". Then, yesterday it was similar. We napped together and the room was freezing. So, we put our cold hands on each other and giggled. During the Oscars she bet on every award. And, this child of mine got nearly all of them spot on, except the shorts and documentaries. She says..."I have no interest in those."
It flies by so fast. I just wish I could be in those moments for just a second longer. I wish I could breathe in the giggles or the sarcasm (Bren). Because what fuel it is, because soon the house will be quiet. So, when you ask me why I don't work in restaurants any longer...this is why. I am so grateful to be able to stretch this year out as long as I can.
Peace,
M
But, this weekend was pretty fantastic with my kids. I mean really, it's the tiniest of things that make the difference. Bren worked much of the weekend. And, when I had to discipline him regarding his room...he worked on it and didn't lose his mind. I mean he was pissed and slammed a couple of doors. But...that was it? Yup. Wow, I'll take it.
And, though Julia is driving me nuts with her yoga pants, too much make up, short skirts, and chucks...she was my little girl at least twice this weekend. Once was watching a movie. We were giggling and throwing licorice at each other. She went to the bathroom and said..."Hey mom, guess what I found in my panties??? (knowing I hate that word)". Then, yesterday it was similar. We napped together and the room was freezing. So, we put our cold hands on each other and giggled. During the Oscars she bet on every award. And, this child of mine got nearly all of them spot on, except the shorts and documentaries. She says..."I have no interest in those."
It flies by so fast. I just wish I could be in those moments for just a second longer. I wish I could breathe in the giggles or the sarcasm (Bren). Because what fuel it is, because soon the house will be quiet. So, when you ask me why I don't work in restaurants any longer...this is why. I am so grateful to be able to stretch this year out as long as I can.
Peace,
M
Saturday, March 1, 2014
Family and Loss
I'm not going to lie...it was difficult getting up this morning. My back is aching, I have a migraine due to icky barometric changes, and the prospect of rising to attend a funeral on this blustery day...did not sound like any fun.
But, I am nothing if not obligated to the people I love and whom love me. And, while the funeral had nothing to do with me (other than by friendship and professional relationships), it impacted me so profoundly.
I think the biggest thing going into today was how foreign watching someone lose a parent is to me. In fact (don't judge me!!!), I would barter with the life of my own mother for most people. If God himself came down with such an offer, you can bet that I would exclaim "Sold!" Because, you clearly have something with your loved one that I never experienced. But, it doesn't work like that and for that, I'm truly sorry. I wish it did.
Though I ache for them, my friends in their loss. Today was beautiful. I say this because, this funeral, celebration of life, sermon, and fellowship...filled a space that I didn't know was missing. The music came from souls and emotion that ran so deep. The tears flowed. But, so did the laughter. There were babies illustrating new life amidst this loss.
Most of all this family, amidst their loss; shared their love with us. They shared with us what it was like to always have enough (enough food, enough love, enough laughter) in a family with 11 children!!! As a struggling mother of two, I have always struggled to provide. And, here in this moment of loss...this family reminded me that in their family, there was always enough. Always. Ryan, Julia and I stopped by the home where the repast was hosted post service. We were greeted by many. We were offered food and drink, love, and friendship from those we'd barely just met. I thought we were there to console them, yet they were in fact ministering to us.
I wept during the service when a beautiful woman spoke of how she didn't know what family was until she was invited into this particular family. I don't have 11 siblings. I don't have a mother or a father. But, I can truly say that I know what family feels like. And, though I know my friends will miss both of their parents moment to moment, day to day, breath to breath...they will also feel a love that is beyond death and not of this world.
But, I am nothing if not obligated to the people I love and whom love me. And, while the funeral had nothing to do with me (other than by friendship and professional relationships), it impacted me so profoundly.
I think the biggest thing going into today was how foreign watching someone lose a parent is to me. In fact (don't judge me!!!), I would barter with the life of my own mother for most people. If God himself came down with such an offer, you can bet that I would exclaim "Sold!" Because, you clearly have something with your loved one that I never experienced. But, it doesn't work like that and for that, I'm truly sorry. I wish it did.
Though I ache for them, my friends in their loss. Today was beautiful. I say this because, this funeral, celebration of life, sermon, and fellowship...filled a space that I didn't know was missing. The music came from souls and emotion that ran so deep. The tears flowed. But, so did the laughter. There were babies illustrating new life amidst this loss.
Most of all this family, amidst their loss; shared their love with us. They shared with us what it was like to always have enough (enough food, enough love, enough laughter) in a family with 11 children!!! As a struggling mother of two, I have always struggled to provide. And, here in this moment of loss...this family reminded me that in their family, there was always enough. Always. Ryan, Julia and I stopped by the home where the repast was hosted post service. We were greeted by many. We were offered food and drink, love, and friendship from those we'd barely just met. I thought we were there to console them, yet they were in fact ministering to us.
I wept during the service when a beautiful woman spoke of how she didn't know what family was until she was invited into this particular family. I don't have 11 siblings. I don't have a mother or a father. But, I can truly say that I know what family feels like. And, though I know my friends will miss both of their parents moment to moment, day to day, breath to breath...they will also feel a love that is beyond death and not of this world.
Saturday, February 22, 2014
Faith
I listened to a Youtube video today. I will also clarify that perhaps, Nadia Bolz-Weber should get some sort of "cyber restraining order" from me. I read "Pastrix" her book about her own journey of faith. I've listened to her on NPR's "On Being", I've listened to interviews, sermons, and re-read the book. Every time I hear her, I hear God. I hear the God that reinforces my path and the place that all "damaged" people come from and our ability to do (collectively of course) great things from that space.
So, I listened to another YouTube video today. Rev. Bolz-Weber spoke about the faith in a way that I am still reeling from. She speaks about individual versus communities of faith. That God doesn't give us more than we can handle is an "us" statement, not a "you/individual" statement. She also regards the same to be true of the Apostles' Creed. Saying, "oh my god, nobody believes every line of the creed." But, that each of us believes a line, a part, a word, or a spirit of it. And, together we ALL end up believing all of the creed.
Amen. I use that word a lot lately. I can't begin to convey what that one word means. It's like a sigh of recognition, looking into my own heart, God, creation, love, truth, and definitive emotion all at once. And, since I believe in getting to the point...you will see many "amens" on Facebook posts, emails, and even texts. It conveys far more than one simple word.
But, faith as defined by community is huge. It's when we don't think we can do something we've never tried before. And, the moral support of a friend or partner gives us the strength to pull a battery out and in fact fix a vehicle sans tow truck. It's when we are working 2 or 3 jobs and we don't have time to sleep in and someone offers to take the kids to school for us. It's that faith is this transient thing. It's this "invisible backpack" that I can pick up for you when it gets too heavy. And, you are able to lighten the load when I am weary. It's this relational trust because we know God is fond of us. And, we know that we are fond of each other even though we get on the "crazy train" every once in a while. But, faith is knowing that we can go there (not in an attempt to screw things up or be ugly) and we are loved anyway (but, because we can't help but...).
Faith is knowing that we are loved and that God thinks fondly of us...so, there's no "prove it". Because, the minute we ask for proof...it stops becoming faith. It becomes this intellectual proposition, this evidential hearing. That doesn't mean we don't doubt. But, we cannot expect love, devotion, being...to be illustrated in the same manner as a math problem.
Until next time...
M
So, I listened to another YouTube video today. Rev. Bolz-Weber spoke about the faith in a way that I am still reeling from. She speaks about individual versus communities of faith. That God doesn't give us more than we can handle is an "us" statement, not a "you/individual" statement. She also regards the same to be true of the Apostles' Creed. Saying, "oh my god, nobody believes every line of the creed." But, that each of us believes a line, a part, a word, or a spirit of it. And, together we ALL end up believing all of the creed.
Amen. I use that word a lot lately. I can't begin to convey what that one word means. It's like a sigh of recognition, looking into my own heart, God, creation, love, truth, and definitive emotion all at once. And, since I believe in getting to the point...you will see many "amens" on Facebook posts, emails, and even texts. It conveys far more than one simple word.
But, faith as defined by community is huge. It's when we don't think we can do something we've never tried before. And, the moral support of a friend or partner gives us the strength to pull a battery out and in fact fix a vehicle sans tow truck. It's when we are working 2 or 3 jobs and we don't have time to sleep in and someone offers to take the kids to school for us. It's that faith is this transient thing. It's this "invisible backpack" that I can pick up for you when it gets too heavy. And, you are able to lighten the load when I am weary. It's this relational trust because we know God is fond of us. And, we know that we are fond of each other even though we get on the "crazy train" every once in a while. But, faith is knowing that we can go there (not in an attempt to screw things up or be ugly) and we are loved anyway (but, because we can't help but...).
Faith is knowing that we are loved and that God thinks fondly of us...so, there's no "prove it". Because, the minute we ask for proof...it stops becoming faith. It becomes this intellectual proposition, this evidential hearing. That doesn't mean we don't doubt. But, we cannot expect love, devotion, being...to be illustrated in the same manner as a math problem.
Until next time...
M
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Even though we are fortunate...
Today is my Julia's birthday. She turned fourteen. Actually, she wasn't born until around 9:30 P.M. But, let's just say it's an all day celebration of a life I wouldn't know what to do without. She is smart, talented, funny, beautiful, a dancer, a lover of pop-culture...and man does she have a mouth and wit about her. She is a perfect blend of her father and I. I love her (and her brother...but, today is her birthday) more than I could have possibly imagined.
None the less...this year, the Divine Miss J's birthday has been "infected" by multiple trips to the doctor's office, urgent care, er's, antibiotics, cultures, needles, scalpels, anesthesia, fevers, chills, pain, bruises and shots. This child has had a rough week. She has handled it with grace and much humor.
The real issue that I am struggling with is the cost. How do people do this without fantastic health insurance? Look, I love you my right-wing friends and I am queen of the #"pullyourselfupbythebootstrapsclub". But, come on!!! REALLY??? I have one of the best insurance policies in the country. And, this little spider bite has cost our family over $450.00. How is that even possible? Since you asked...$120.00 in various steroids and antibiotic treatments, $150.00 ER co-pay, $120.00 in office visit co-pays and $60.00 in uncovered costs. That was my savings. I get that I should have more saved up. But, I don't.
So what do we do? How does a single-mom, dad, family struggling to survive get through emergencies like this? Because, Julia would have ended up in the hospital (for who knows how long) if I hadn't taken her in on Sunday. She had a 101 degree fever that later climbed to 103 degrees. She could have potentially died without treatment. As a parent, I never want to choose between feeding them and caring for their medical needs. But, without coverage...I wonder if I would have been so quick to take her. Judge me if you will. Remember that boy in D.C. that basically died from not having a root-canal? The infection got into his blood stream and dental work would have saved his life.
The doctor asked me yesterday if we had been out of the country (the bite is really rare). I looked perplexed and he asked, "You know, like the Congo?". I laughed and told him "obviously not." But, sometimes I feel like we live in a backwards country. Like, we have the best of everything here. But, it's like Moses who saw the "Promised Land", yet he could never fully experience it. Is that what being poor is in this country? Is that what God wants for any of us? Some sort of divine "nanana boo boo"? I think not.
I don't have the answers. However, I do think that this is one of the most important conversations we as ministers, healthcare providers, and citizens need to have. Because the resources of this country don't belong to any one individual, race, class, or political party. I'm so grateful for the medical care Julia received and our access to it. I hope that during the coming months and not too distant future we can all partake in the "Promise Land" this country offers.
None the less...this year, the Divine Miss J's birthday has been "infected" by multiple trips to the doctor's office, urgent care, er's, antibiotics, cultures, needles, scalpels, anesthesia, fevers, chills, pain, bruises and shots. This child has had a rough week. She has handled it with grace and much humor.
The real issue that I am struggling with is the cost. How do people do this without fantastic health insurance? Look, I love you my right-wing friends and I am queen of the #"pullyourselfupbythebootstrapsclub". But, come on!!! REALLY??? I have one of the best insurance policies in the country. And, this little spider bite has cost our family over $450.00. How is that even possible? Since you asked...$120.00 in various steroids and antibiotic treatments, $150.00 ER co-pay, $120.00 in office visit co-pays and $60.00 in uncovered costs. That was my savings. I get that I should have more saved up. But, I don't.
So what do we do? How does a single-mom, dad, family struggling to survive get through emergencies like this? Because, Julia would have ended up in the hospital (for who knows how long) if I hadn't taken her in on Sunday. She had a 101 degree fever that later climbed to 103 degrees. She could have potentially died without treatment. As a parent, I never want to choose between feeding them and caring for their medical needs. But, without coverage...I wonder if I would have been so quick to take her. Judge me if you will. Remember that boy in D.C. that basically died from not having a root-canal? The infection got into his blood stream and dental work would have saved his life.
The doctor asked me yesterday if we had been out of the country (the bite is really rare). I looked perplexed and he asked, "You know, like the Congo?". I laughed and told him "obviously not." But, sometimes I feel like we live in a backwards country. Like, we have the best of everything here. But, it's like Moses who saw the "Promised Land", yet he could never fully experience it. Is that what being poor is in this country? Is that what God wants for any of us? Some sort of divine "nanana boo boo"? I think not.
I don't have the answers. However, I do think that this is one of the most important conversations we as ministers, healthcare providers, and citizens need to have. Because the resources of this country don't belong to any one individual, race, class, or political party. I'm so grateful for the medical care Julia received and our access to it. I hope that during the coming months and not too distant future we can all partake in the "Promise Land" this country offers.
Thursday, January 16, 2014
Revelations...
So...I went on vacation this week. Actually, we went to Orlando specifically to run the Disney Marathon. I'm recovering from a procedure in July, and I wasn't sure that I'd make it this year. But, yeah...we made it. We started out the trip with a Cirque show, proceeded to Magic Kingdom, Hollywood Studios (with a little AED malfunction), Epcot, and finally Animal Kingdom/Marathon day. It truly was a trip of a lifetime.
While I was in my starting corral, I say mom/daughters, father/sons, brother/sisters, cousins, best friends, lovers...they were all running for something or mostly...someone. People ran for Autism, Lymphoma, Heart Disease, Alzheimer's, Leukemia, and many other causes. I stood there amongst people that I knew would finish before me. And, it didn't matter. Ok, well...It mattered a little when this 400 lb Canadian breezed past me like I was standing still. I noticed as his hair was blowing in the wind...he had three other bands on his wrist...which meant he had already completed a 5k, 10k, Half Marathon, and was working on the last leg...the Marathon. In case I didn't say it..."You go dude!" If you only have me...which, I am certain is not the case, I am so proud of you.
While I was doing the lonely part of the run...I thought about that guy and the people that would be waiting for him at the finish line. I thought about my friends who are adopted. But, they still have people waiting on them at the literal or figurative finish line. How, though I know who my mother is...she has rarely been there for any life event. Not surgery, the birth of my children, heart disease, when I had a cancer scare...And, though she is my mother...I'm not sure she ever transformed into a mother for any of us. And, this trip...I was able to finally realize that I don't miss her or the version of her that I needed. Because finally, I've been able to become my own family. I can mother myself. I don't need her, my significant other's family, no surrogates for me.
Running three miles further than I thought possible, I truly felt God. It wasn't me. I had blood flow issues to my arms. My hands and fingers had swollen. I was numb up to my elbows. The compression socks I was wearing totally saved my legs. But, something inside of me kept pushing. Do, I wish I would have done better...sure, don't we all?
But, I showed up...and this life that I am living is evidence that even though the people that should have desired me didn't, that should have showed up, given more, sacrificed...they gave up...they gave up on themselves and me. That's not me. That's them and knowing that...knowing that the wt, trailer park parents, I would've given anything for them to love me...didn't. At one point...we think even she doesn't love me, that must mean...I'm worthless, unloveable, bad, insert whatever...But, we aren't what happens to us, we aren't who does or doesn't choose us. We are only who we have been created to be and the rest is noise.
If you are big...be BIGGER!!! Don't let someone else define and determine your worth...20 years goes by so fast. Therapy takes so long to sink in. Or is it even the therapy? Is it finally succumbing to the voice of God or our Inner Most Inner Most Inner...whatever you believe...we are all good and we all need help. Not just those of us who are the "nice" ones, or the ones who we understand. But, those of us seem to have it under control, who are capable, who are used to fighting for love because it was never freely given. We need help and empathy sometimes. And, though you may not know what we need...if you ask, we will tell you.
That love...the love you don't have to fight for...it already exists. I know that, it's just...sometimes I forget. It's not something anyone can take from you. They can't really give it to you either, they don't own it. I hope my daughter knows that...if nothing else. That she is so loved and she is love.
While I was in my starting corral, I say mom/daughters, father/sons, brother/sisters, cousins, best friends, lovers...they were all running for something or mostly...someone. People ran for Autism, Lymphoma, Heart Disease, Alzheimer's, Leukemia, and many other causes. I stood there amongst people that I knew would finish before me. And, it didn't matter. Ok, well...It mattered a little when this 400 lb Canadian breezed past me like I was standing still. I noticed as his hair was blowing in the wind...he had three other bands on his wrist...which meant he had already completed a 5k, 10k, Half Marathon, and was working on the last leg...the Marathon. In case I didn't say it..."You go dude!" If you only have me...which, I am certain is not the case, I am so proud of you.
While I was doing the lonely part of the run...I thought about that guy and the people that would be waiting for him at the finish line. I thought about my friends who are adopted. But, they still have people waiting on them at the literal or figurative finish line. How, though I know who my mother is...she has rarely been there for any life event. Not surgery, the birth of my children, heart disease, when I had a cancer scare...And, though she is my mother...I'm not sure she ever transformed into a mother for any of us. And, this trip...I was able to finally realize that I don't miss her or the version of her that I needed. Because finally, I've been able to become my own family. I can mother myself. I don't need her, my significant other's family, no surrogates for me.
Running three miles further than I thought possible, I truly felt God. It wasn't me. I had blood flow issues to my arms. My hands and fingers had swollen. I was numb up to my elbows. The compression socks I was wearing totally saved my legs. But, something inside of me kept pushing. Do, I wish I would have done better...sure, don't we all?
But, I showed up...and this life that I am living is evidence that even though the people that should have desired me didn't, that should have showed up, given more, sacrificed...they gave up...they gave up on themselves and me. That's not me. That's them and knowing that...knowing that the wt, trailer park parents, I would've given anything for them to love me...didn't. At one point...we think even she doesn't love me, that must mean...I'm worthless, unloveable, bad, insert whatever...But, we aren't what happens to us, we aren't who does or doesn't choose us. We are only who we have been created to be and the rest is noise.
If you are big...be BIGGER!!! Don't let someone else define and determine your worth...20 years goes by so fast. Therapy takes so long to sink in. Or is it even the therapy? Is it finally succumbing to the voice of God or our Inner Most Inner Most Inner...whatever you believe...we are all good and we all need help. Not just those of us who are the "nice" ones, or the ones who we understand. But, those of us seem to have it under control, who are capable, who are used to fighting for love because it was never freely given. We need help and empathy sometimes. And, though you may not know what we need...if you ask, we will tell you.
That love...the love you don't have to fight for...it already exists. I know that, it's just...sometimes I forget. It's not something anyone can take from you. They can't really give it to you either, they don't own it. I hope my daughter knows that...if nothing else. That she is so loved and she is love.
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