Tag Archives: God

Right now…

15 Tuesday Aug 2017

Posted by in acceptance, Christianity, community, compassion, difficult times, judgment, love, polarization, relationships

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A group of vegans in Berkley, California protested a butcher shop until the owners agreed to put a sign in their window about animal rights. Their ultimate goal is to make it unlawful to sell meat anywhere in Berkley.

White supremacists protested the removal of a Civil War memorial statue in Charlottesville, VA and were met with a counter protest from anti-racist and anti-fascist demonstrators. A woman died as a result of an angry man focused on superiority.

The president tweets and the media pounces on ‘his intent’ by twisting each of his actual or missing words looking for an assumed intent to support their agenda of who he is and what he stands for.

Someone spews to a mutual friend distorted perceptions of another’s actions fueled by  anger, hurt and jealousy. The story spreads from friend to friend until it is so well known that it becomes a distorted truth.

All the while we cling to noble reasons for our behavior. We are acting out of religious beliefs; secular altruism; distorted world views; personal frustration; boredom; elevated perception of self; crowd mentality; or an array of other twisted beliefs that fuel dangerous and twisted behaviors.

We use our understanding of God to justify atrocious behaviors when indeed God’s plan for creation had nothing to do with hate, lies, violence, exclusivity or superiority.

We ennoble ourselves when we align ourselves with a group that gives itself title to determining who is moral and who is not. Then, we shout our opinion never taking a moment to listen to the other who is, most likely, as quick to shout back their opposing opinion.

We spin local and world events in a way that fits our ultimate agenda. Have you ever looked at the headlines of a conservative media outlet and compared the same event to a liberal source’s headlines? It’s hard to tell it’s the same event making it even more difficult to find fact and truth.

In our personal relationships we become hurt when someone doesn’t cave into our perceptions. We rant and spew, hoping they will see our perspective…and when they don’t, we tell our side to the story to anyone who will listen – hoping to gain their allegiance making inappropriate categories of us against them.

We want to be special, exclusive and above the other. We claw our way to the top with words, demonstrations, religions, economics and war.

And for what?

We are created to live and love in God’s world…period. Not to convince, connive, plot, scheme or manipulate anyone into living life based on our personal litany of rules. We are to come together to correct wrongs by collaborating with those who have different experiences and wisdoms than we do. It means discerning who we are and Whose we are in this amazing creation and living as if that matters. It means understanding that we will all be better off if we make decisions based on what’s good for all – myself and my neighbor – instead of simply looking at what I want or need to be to gain power.

Don’t you know the Divine, by whatever name you call out to – God, Allah, Yahweh –  weeps when we distort our created need for love and relationship into a scramble for wealth, power, and superiority?

During the turbulence of the 60’s and 70’s, a group called the Youngbloods recorded a song written by Dino Valenti. The pleading lyrics never grow old…

Love is but a song to sing
Fear’s the way we die
You can make the mountains ring
Or make the angels cry
Though the bird is on the wing
And you may not know why

Come on people now
Smile on your brother
Everybody get together
Try to love one another
Right now

Some may come and some may go
We shall surely pass
When the one that left us here
Returns for us at last
We are but a moment’s sunlight
Fading in the grass

Come on people now
Smile on your brother
Everybody get together
Try to love one another
Right now.

If you hear the song I sing
You will understand (listen!)
You hold the key to love and fear
All in your trembling hand
Just one key unlocks them both
It’s there at your command.

Come on people now
Smile on your brother
Everybody get together
Try to love one another
Right now

Right now!
Right now!

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Pink popsicles and Biblical perspective…

02 Tuesday Aug 2016

Posted by in Christianity, community, compassion, God

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UnknownIt can be a struggle to deal with theological interpretations simply because our individual worldview determines the lens through which we understand the words our ancient sisters and brothers penned, quilled, or carved in stone. Unfortunately, it is as common for that lens to be myopic as it is for it to be just a bit foggy, knowing that whatever we think is ‘right’ is affected by our life experiences. Who we are and where we come from determines how we understand and respond to that which we call The Divine.

You see, God is more than we can possibly comprehend and when we try to wrap God and God’s will in a neat package of rules-to-live-by we will miss the deeper concept of living a life of compassion for those around us.

Let me explain. The ancient texts for the world’s great religions are written by…well, people who were inspired by The Divine. Some conclude that this inspiration was given to selected individuals as a command to document exactly what was dictated to them by God. Others suppose that the sacred writings are recorded events to tell the story of those places where God and humanity rub against each other.  The lens through which we read these stories will determine our perspective on who God is and who we are in God’s world.

Think of it like interpreting the following story.

One day a little girl asked her mother for a pink popsicle. The girl’s mother tried to find pink popsicles at the grocery store, but couldn’t. There were green popsicles, red popsicles, orange popsicles and even blue popsicles, but no pink popsicles. The mother decided to make pink popsicles. She bought sticks and popsicle molds to make the classic double popsicles like she found at the store, only this time they would be pink. She mixed water and flavorings with just the right amount of food color to make the most perfect pink popsicles. The next day the little girl asked for a popsicle and was delighted to have a pink popsicle. Now, the little girl wasn’t alone when she asked for the pink popsicle. Her friend looked longingly at the pink popsicle. At that point the girl quickly snapped the popsicle into it’s two parts and presented her friend with a pink popsicle. They sat side by side on the back steps, enjoying all that they had been given.

Now, some will read this simplistic story and determine that pink popsicles are the only color or flavor we should desire because that’s what was described in the story. Others may see the love of the mother for the child. Still others may see it as a story about sharing and gratitude for what they were given.

In reality, the details mean nothing without understanding the big picture. The pink popsicle could have been replaced with a cheeseburger, a bag of chips or a paisley umbrella. It simply doesn’t matter what the object was. The objective of the story is to experience the mother’s love and the child’s gratitude and sharing.

Jesus tells the story of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10:25-37. The final words are, “Now, go and do likewise.” We understand this to mean that when we see a need in another, we are to do what we can to help them through their time of struggle. The details set the stage for a story about the deeper meaning of respecting and loving others in a way that surpasses our cultural, and sometimes religious, norms. It’s about cleaning the lens through which we view the world long enough to see all that God created and know that it is good.

The thing is, we can get caught up in the details of this story as well. We can read it in a way that the Pharisee becomes an example of all that is wrong with Jewish leaders, as does the Levite for those who make the laws. We might see the Samaritan as a claim that those marginalized in the world are really better people than those in power. None of these are the intended message! They are details that can divert us from the depth and truth of this story if we let them. It’s kind of like making our focus pink popsicles instead of love, gratitude and sharing.

These are easy examples. The difficulty comes when we read passages that seem to speak to the issues that divide our communities today. It wasn’t long ago that slavery was supported, and condemned, by religious people – depending on how they read the Bible. Women have been excluded from ministry and leadership positions in many denominations based on Biblical interpretation. Hate has been spewed about issues of sexual preference and sexual identity…again based on the lens through which we read these beautiful, complex, ancient writings. We live in a world divided by religious perspective when indeed the ancients gave us stories about God’s love for all that God created and in knowing that, we should be inspired to live life embracing and sharing that same kind of love.

Instead, we point fingers and divide ourselves into groups that we feel are acceptable to God. Of course, the group we find ourself in is always the group that we think is somehow special to God. We, in our broken human form, continue to power-grab for God’s love as if it is limited and we need to claim it as our own for our little, exclusive group. No wonder God weeps.

It is time to sit on the back steps and share that pink popsicle with gratitude for all that has been given to us by God the Father, the Mother, the Creator, the Redeemer and the Sustainer. And…we need to understand that, even though the story tells us about two little girls sharing and enjoying the day, it could have been two little boys, a boy and a girl, a girl and her mother, a boy and his father, a child and an elderly neighbor or any combination of humanity. The intended message is not in the details of who experienced the gift, it’s in the message of how the gift was freely given, received and shared.

And that, friends, is how we need to read scripture. It’s about meeting God, the author of love, the creator of all that we know. God, who was truly delighted by God’s own creation and claimed that all of it was good. God, who loves us more deeply that we can know and longs for us to walk with God. God who gives freely. God whom human words can never fully describe…

It’s always about the deeper message of who we are and Whose we are…and living as if it matters.

 

 

 

Lessons while hiking…

08 Tuesday Sep 2015

Posted by in finding God in nature, God, hiking, life lessons, wilderness

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Seriously, how bad can a hike be? Particularly when you have the right gear! We had hiking boots, daypacks, layered clothing, and gloves along with the questionably essential cell phones and cameras. The brochure suggested the trails would be strenuous. In all reality, strenuous is a relative word. Strenuous compared to what? To whom? We were in shape, although I should have learned years ago that ‘in shape’ can also be relative based on variables like age and the activity one finds one’s self confronted with. I remember having a similar attitude years ago when challenged with a 50-mile bicycle ride. I was ‘in shape’ for running and aerobic exercise as well as soccer and tennis. Bring on the co-ed league softball! Being active wasn’t the issue. Being ‘in shape’ was and I wasn’t ‘in shape’ for serious bicycle riding. 50 miles hurt…a lot!

Our guide met us with a small boat and his springer spaniel, Daisy. He outlined that we would travel to his float house/office to get ready for the hike, boat across the cove to his canoe and paddle into shore to meet our trail. He directed us to multiple pairs of high rubber bog boots, packets of trail mix, bottled water and granola bars. We were instructed to pick out a pair of boots and load our daypacks with water and snacks. Wait…what??? We had the latest and greatest waterproof hiking boots that could withstand any amount of rain or wet trail we had ever encountered. Didn’t he understand that we were ready just as we were? He insisted and we eventually complied. Then, as we loaded back into his boat, he handed each of us a walking stick. I took it, thinking it was rather silly and cliche, but what the heck???

We reached the canoe, which could only hold 3 at a time. He instructed us how to step into it so it wouldn’t tip and made the 3 necessary trips to transport six of us to shore and our hiking adventure. Daisy made sure she was in the first load and barked anxiously until we were all ready to hike. This was her day to shine! Her job was to run ahead of us and warn our guide if a bear chose to use the path…the path carved through the wilderness by bears and deer…a path our guide, our group of six and Daisy shared with them. Instructions were given regarding our best response should such a meeting occur. Our guide was outfitted with a rather large pistol to use as a last resort should the potential bear not choose to not leave us as he found us. It was his philosophy that it was better to have the gun should he need to use it than to not have it and need it. Ultimately, the best option was not to have to use it.

My city-loving, height-fearing, mud-hating, worry-hearted self should have heard bells screaming a warning in decibels requiring earplugs at this point. Yet there was something about the calm reassurance of our guide as he casually explained our hike was only about a mile in and about a mile out with a 450-foot elevation. Hey, I can do that!

He instructed us every step of the way…where to place our feet, when to use the walking stick, what branches to cling to as we made our way through a minute piece of the temperate rain forest in Alaska. This was no ordinary hike. Rain forests have bogs and a muddy, mossy, wet concoction that will suck you in well past your ankle and can suction the boot right off your foot. Moss can be found on almost every limb and exposed tree root. Soon we were adept at finding the horizontal roots to gain footing and avoiding the vertical, more slippery roots. We jumped over what appeared to be narrow creeks, learning that they can be deceivingly deep. A twist of the boot released it from the grasp of the sludge. His gentle instructions encouraged us as we ascended the trail, the same one used by indigenous animals as they foraged for food and water. We didn’t know what we were walking towards, we only knew that we were going somewhere with someone we literally trusted with our lives…someone we had only known for a short time…yet, someone whose gentle guidance encouraged us to keep moving forward, literally through the muck, when our natural instincts would have kept us anchored in one spot.

And there it was!!! Just in front of us was a clearing with a small, perfectly clear lake. Our guide had built a temporary shelter to welcome us to his utopia. Split logs made comfortable benches, a fire pit provided heat and a tarp provided a ‘roof’ to protect us should it rain. A separate area several yards away was surrounded by tarp and made into a makeshift latrine complete with more comforts than any Johnny-on-the-Spot has to offer. We were ready to pull out our trail mix and waters when our guide took off his pack and presented us with hotdogs, marshmallow, chocolate bars…both milk chocolate and dark chocolate…and graham crackers. A hammock hung between two trees and kayaks were available for those who wanted to explore the lake. It was simple; it was unexpected; it was hospitality beyond our expectations; and it was all and everything we needed.

The hike back to the water’s edge was spectacular. One step at a time, don’t worry about ten steps ahead, simply think about where your foot is going to land on the next step…then the next step…the next step… And, before you know it, you are out of the wilderness…changed…the same…but different…calm…grateful for it all…connected to the beauty, the challenge, the guide, Daisy, the others…hopeful for what is to come next, knowing that there will always be another wilderness to encounter.

It doesn’t take much to realize the metaphor for life in this simple hiking experience.

  1. There will be plenty of muck, but the right tools will help you get through it. 
  2. Sometimes all you can do is think about the next step. 
  3. It helps to have someone to guide you, someone who has been there before and can encourage you to keep going.
  4. There will be a place of unimaginable beauty and hospitality when you reach the clearing.
  5. The wilderness will is always waiting…just ahead, but this time we know that we can keep going. 

You see, God lives in and through all things – even the things that make us anxious, overwhelmed or scared – always sharing with us the essence of who we are and Whose we are; beaconing and nudging us to live as if God matters; compelling us to reach out and walk with someone who needs us or to let someone guide us when life drops us into the middle of the wilderness. Even the muck can become beautiful when we realize that there will be a clearing complete with all we need…a place that is peaceful where we can laugh and share life…a place where we can hear the gentle giggle of God as she threads her majesty and love into our stories, amused by her creation and how beautiful it is when we find her.

Oh, and one more thing…a dog will always help you on the journey!!!

A rant on politics and truisms…

22 Wednesday Apr 2015

Posted by in acceptance, choices, compassion, hate, human nature, judgment, political correctness

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Writing-Clip-ArtIt doesn’t take much to make me crazy – particularly when I hear or read something that attempts to make absurd generalizations truisms. You know truisms, those statements that seem to be obviously true or things that we have heard so often that we accept them as truth without consideration for the source, the scientific quality of the claim, or the motivation of the speaker.

We are on the cusp of yet another election year. Doesn’t it seem that every year has become an election year? Just when we rid our media of hate filled political campaign rhetoric plagued with alleged truisms about the other candidate, we enter another round of ugly, despicable claims. Unfortunately, it seems that the more something is said and publicized, the more it becomes true in the minds of the public. Truisms abound…some that are not actually true.

It doesn’t matter on what side of the hypothetical aisle someone leans, there are plenty of not-so-truisms to support their agenda. I guess we believe what we want to believe then find truisms to garner support for our cause.

The problem with so many of our truisms is that they point out the flaws of the other guy, or gal, without making substantial claims based on science, economics, history, compassion and all those things we are supposed to learn during our growing up years. They simply show up again and again and again until we think they are…well…true, even when they are not.

Some ‘truths’ are the result of a sound bite taken out of context to prove how misguided someone is, followed by the process of repeat, repeat, repeat until that person’s media created character takes on a life of its own with very little representation of their actual statement, intent or beliefs. Yet, we find it okay because our agenda is supported and we can claim to be knowledgeable because we have proof in the form of a truism.

What ever happened to coming together and talking about an issue? Why don’t we take the time to meet and know the other person, you know – someone who isn’t like us or part of our club…whatever our club happens to be whether it is a neighborhood, religious affiliation, work setting, baseball team; where we shop, do business, or buy laundry soap; or if we resonate toward the affections of a dog or a cat? Why do we think we understand all we need to know about “the other” simply because of some  annoying generalizations that somehow become truisms…truisms that seem to allow us the right to judge anyone and anything that doesn’t agree with us…truisms that divide rather than unify…truisms that are used to justify horrible behaviors…truisms that corrupt our understanding of what it means to be a member of God’s amazing creation…truisms that have nothing to do with loving our neighbor, let alone loving God. Doe Zantamata said it well:

It’s easy to judge. It’s more difficult to understand. Understanding requires compassion, patience, and a willingness to believe that good hearts sometimes choose poor methods. Through judging, we separate. Through understanding we grow.

It’s time for growth.

On becoming a grown up…

02 Monday Mar 2015

Posted by in Christianity, human nature

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It started with an essay question: “When did you first realize you have become a grown-up?”

Then came the Facebook message: “Happy Birthday! Hard to believe we are entering another decade…how is that possible?”

The “…” part of the message alluded to memories of little girls playing dress-ups or Barbie dolls; birthday parties with paper favors and pink party dresses; and neighborhood moms who knew when to offer a popsicle or a chocolate chip cookie. The children in those recollections were us – daughters from the 1950’s. Somehow we had become older than many of our grandparents were when we huddled with them around a single black and white television to watch June Clever vacuum in her dress and pearls and Ozzie and Harriet ponder the responsibility of rearing two rowdy boys.

I looked through my Facebook page. High school friends smiled at me from profile photos – pictures that looked more like our parents than the yearbook shots that showed up on our nametags at class reunions. Seemingly, we were grown up. Ask any of our children or – gasp – grandchildren. They will certainly tell you we are old! However, the question remains – “When did you first realize you had become a grown-up?” The befuddling answer is, “I don’t know…”

Was it high school graduation? College graduation? Marriage? First house? Children?

My daughter plastered herself against a glass door and sobbed when I took her to kindergarten. She was sure she did not want to be there – at least she wanted me to think that she needed to be with me. Day after day we went through the same routine. Her teacher, a kindergarten expert, told me how to respond to her when she clung to me, begging me to stay. The fact that she wanted me to stay was the good news! It indicated her desire was to be at school, just not without me. I was told to peel her off of my leg, tell her I would return for her after school and simply walk out of the door without looking back. How do you ignore your screaming child? How do you not look back? Her sobs became my broken heart. I stoically walked away. If she saw my tears, she would know I shared her preoccupation with our impending separation.

Her five-year-old understanding wouldn’t allow her to know the depth of my emotion. She wanted her mommy – plain and simple. My mind filled with memories of those intimate moments between a mother and child when all that mattered was cradling her in my arms while gently rocking her into peace and calm. Mothers know the look on their baby’s face when anxiety morphs into serenity, when sleep absorbs chaos simply because Mommy is there. There is no stress, no frustration – just peace and trust. Now, I was walking away from her when she knew only one thought – she needed me. The experts tell us that we must allow our children to feel emotional pain, to learn how to self-sooth. Life is not perfect and our job is to guide our children through their many life traumas so they learn coping skills for the next and the next and the next complicated moment. I thought the experts were crazy.

We lived through the kindergarten anxieties. Her teacher assured me she was fine within five minutes of my leaving. She played with the other children, learned the suggested curriculum and was considered a successful first grade candidate. I was proud of her accomplishments, although I longed for the lost tender moments we shared when I could hold her in my arms – the ones that changed so poignantly with her growth and development.

I certainly could have used some of her kicking and screaming when we dropped her off at college. Her final hug was filled with eager anticipation as she looked forward to an exciting new life as a co-ed. She dutifully hugged her father and I, displaying a smile that assured me she could conquer anything life presented to her. I was the one who wanted to plaster myself against the glass door of her dormitory building and cry out for her to come back to me. Instead, she strolled down the long corridor to her new room, new friends and new life. Didn’t she know how much I needed her? It was surreal to appreciate how much our roles had changed. Alas, once again the experts suggested that I bury my own needs and let her fly as she is intended to fly – to become the woman that God created her to be. I continued to question the quality of the experts’ advice. Was she ready? I knew in my heart she was. The real question was about me. Was I ready?

Maybe I was a grown up at that moment, although don’t think so. In my world “grown-ups” were those who had reached their place in life – people who were done being shaped and formed into a better understanding of life as we know it; those who had reached their potential. Letting my daughter go as she entered kindergarten, college and all the milestones in between prepared me to let go one more time as she pursued a career choice that would literally take her around the world. And, in like manner, I understood that each life experience prepared me for the unknown hovering in the future. My Facebook friends and I had more nuggets of experience in our chains of life than sweet June Cleaver had pearls in her cleaning day necklace. We have lived through times when our worst moments ultimately led to our finest hours. Likewise, we still have difficult times when we question all that is right and true and good. If we are wise, we recognize the continual process of renewal and the opportunity to grow closer to our own true essence, the one God created into us. Our job is to be open to the opportunities life presents, and sometimes bombards us with, so that we never become stagnant.

Grown up? Maybe.

Finished? Completed? Thank God for the courage to embrace life with all of its joys and hurts; its longed for as well as its dreaded changes; and the resulting wisdom that comes from the experience of living so that the only honest answer to those questions is a single word: “Nope…”

Unexpected life lessons…

13 Wednesday Aug 2014

Posted by in acceptance, Christianity, compassion, love, marriage, relationships

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13078766-girl-walking-a-dog-in-park-in-spring-silhouette-layered-one-in-the-series-of-similar-imagesI wasn’t prepared for what I saw while walking with my dog this morning.

Walking Lucy can be an interesting endeavor. We have learned which houses have dogs that bark at us. She knows when to sachet that little golden-doodle backside of hers past them and when to immediately put me between her and the barkers. We visit every telephone pole and fire hydrant as if she is checking to see which old friends have or have not walked by recently. She has an affinity for zoysia grass, lowering her head like an anteater into the shaggy turf. She frequently squats to marks her territory and has taught me to carry several bags for – shall we say – elimination collection purposes. And, she inspects and investigates every new sound, weed, trash barrel, paper scrap and used Kleenex she comes across with excitement. They are all treasures to her. She doesn’t care if it is raining, sunny, humid, cold, steaming hot or snowing – she wants her walk. She is my work-out coach, letting me know that it’s time to pull my bones out of the house and hit the streets to check on life in our community.

This morning we came upon an elderly couple slowly walking hand in hand. As we got closer I saw the tall, somewhat hunched over gentleman wore a backpack with a transportable oxygen tank and hose. I assumed the tiny woman next to him was taking him for a walk as he recovered from, or endured, some illness or surgery. I put Lucy into “heel” to keep her from invading their space as we walked by. It was then that I noticed the oxygen hose was for the woman. The man was sharing his energy with her by carrying her oxygen on his back and holding her hand while they enjoyed a brief walk on a spectacularly beautiful morning. We exchanged a brief, “Good morning” and smile. Lucy and I kept up our moderate pace, however I spent the remainder of our walk thinking about marriage, partnership, compassion and what it truly means to love another person.

I don’t know if they were a married couple or not. My romanticized guess is that they have known each other for many years. Maybe they shared raising children, having barbecues and holiday celebrations. Maybe they took trips together, or went hiking, snorkeling, dancing or simply shared the day-to-day routine that weaves one’s soul into a beautiful tapestry with another. It’s also very possibly that they met recently, finding comfort and companionship in each other’s company while sharing stories about other loves, dreams and passions that defined their earlier lives.

It doesn’t actually matter what led them to the point they are currently living. What I do know is they have something deeply personal in whatever their relationship is during this chapter of their lives, he shares her burden and she accepts his compassion.

I guess that brings up some questions that should be the gauge we use for all of our relationships:

  • Are we there when our friends, children, family, neighbors or spouses need us?
  • Do we feel safe when they offer us help dealing with whatever burden we have been given?
  • Do we trust those around us enough to allow them the opportunity to hear our stories – even the ones we pretend never happened – and to still care for and about us in spite of where we have been and what we have done?
  • Are we willing to let someone walk with us, hand in hand, when we trudge through the muck of life?
  • And, are we there as completely for them?

I think of weddings I have been to where people are encouraged to have Christ at the center of their marriage as insulation against the relationship failing. For so many years I thought that simply meant they were supposed to share the same religious beliefs, go to church together and regularly remind themselves that they believe in God. Unfortunately, that superficial approach to marriage is a recipe for failure.

You see, to have Christ at the center of the marriage isn’t about what you say or even about what you do that others can see. Christ enters the marriage when partners trust the other one has their back no matter what. So it is, as well, for partnerships and friendships. Do the people around us feel trusting and at ease in our presence or are they on edge, unsure of what we will say or do? Who do you call for at 2:00 in the morning when the world starts to spin uncontrollably? Who can safely and trustingly call you?

Christ was like a magnet for the lonely, the disabled and the outcast without regard for socioeconomics, ethnicity and gender. His acceptance and compassion, even in the face of broken lives, always led to something exciting and new. The funny thing is, those who were arrogant, seeking power or immersed in their positions were threatened by his message of love. They couldn’t drop their fabricated personas long enough to look into his eyes and realize some things life lures us into just aren’t important.

Christ at the center means living as Christ showed us how to live. It isn’t about saying a certain prayer or following a litany of religious rules. As he said in, Matthew 22:36-40:

 ‘Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?’ He said to him, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and all your soul and all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commands hang all the law and the prophets.’

God, the author of love, loved the world so much that God sent Jesus to show us how to live as God created us to live. In turn, Jesus loved God and humankind so much that all of his actions were based on those loves.

So, back to relationships, partnerships and marriage…if we live life as Christ modeled life for us, we, too, will love the one who created us and we will love those around us. Another way of reading this is to say we will respect that God created each and every one of us as only God can, full of goodness. When we let that goodness shine, we will be kind, compassionate, loving and trustworthy to all we encounter in our daily lives. That includes our spouses, partners or companions.

You see, relationships don’t end when the behaviors Christ modeled for us are present. Those are the things that draw people together to grow and live life as God intended for us to life it. It’s when selfishness and personal gain become the reason for the relationship that it fails.

The elderly couple knew it. Oh, I’m sure they have had their moments of conflict and frustration. But, they also seemed know how to carry each other’s burdens so completely and with so much trust, that nothing could come between what they had for each other.

And so it is for all of us, by living life compassionately sharing God’s loving ways, as modeled to us by Christ, at the center of our relationships, we have a tangible a plan to use as a guide for our interactions, behaviors and attitudes toward each other.

An open letter to my children on Mother’s Day…

11 Sunday May 2014

Posted by in Christianity, compassion, meditation, Mother's Day, relationships, spirituality, Uncategorized

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imagesFirst, and most important, I love you guys. Of course I have great memories and lots of pictures of the days you were born; preschool, high school, and college graduations; birthdays; vacations; dance and music recitals; sports; proms; and all the milestones of the growing-up years. I have attempted to fill photo albums with your lives. Honestly, they are pretty tacky. That’s no surprise since we all know scrapbooking is not one of my strong suits. More recently, I’ve started making slide shows of my digital shots, although it is slow and laborious for me. No, it’s not the technology. It might surprise you that I actually have that somewhat under control. My problem is that I keep hampering my progress to savor the memories and, subsequently, hunting for a tissue.

Although we have succeeded in capturing the major moments of your lives, I hold even dearer the remarkable times that Hallmark hasn’t yet dedicated to a card campaign. I think of you, Bill, asking me where you should go to college…when you were two. “Honey, let’s get you to preschool first!” But, that was the theme of your life – always ready for the next chapter before I got past the table of contents. And, Christie, with your gentle approach to life and recognizing the need to live and let live you taught me to slow down and recognize the beauty in a situation. Two children with opposite, yet equally amazing, approaches to life.

You see, neither of you came with an owner’s manual. It’s probably a good thing! It would have scared the tar out of me to read ahead about what to do for chicken pox, ear infections, visits to the principal’s office, adolescent drivers, broken hearts and all of the crazy twists life sent your way. It was far better to experience each day for what it was and worry about the ‘stuff’ when and if something occurred.

The lack of instructions also meant I wasn’t prepared for the last bedtime story. When did that happen? I don’t even remember what book it was. When was the last time I held your hand to keep you safe in the parking lot? When did I stop sewing cute little dresses or spend the afternoon outside while you played in the sandbox and on the fort? When did you stop arguing over Happy Meals at McDonald’s or the special toy at Burger King? Or when was the last time you crawled in my lap for hugs and snuggles while we watched TV? In the thick of your growing up, some events passed right on by, unnoticed until I looked back and realized you both became adults…compassionate, honest, independent, responsible citizens…all that I could have hoped for. Yet, I am afraid I blinked several times too many, allowing you to shoot into the next stage before I knew what was really happening.

I remember shopping one day and hearing the store’s pianist playing “Sunrise, Sunset” from Fiddler on the Roof.

Is this the little girl I carried?
Is this the little boy at play?

I don’t remember growing older
When did they?

When did she get to be a beauty?
When did he grow to be so tall?

Wasn’t it yesterday
When they were small?

Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly fly the years
One season following another
Laden with happiness and tears.

Yes, you guessed it. I had to leave the mall before I made a scene.

Mother’s Day is the perfect opportunity to say thank-you to you, my beautiful children. You have challenged me, stretched me, honored me, and loved me – even when I didn’t fully understand that you were the only ones who couldn’t do something that everyone else’s mothers let them do. You gave me the opportunity to discover how to function with very little sleep; to hear playful activities over the hum of the shower; how to stock my car with hand wipes, spot cleaner, kleenex, napkins, trash bags, snacks and 100 other items you may need on any given outing; and to organize schedules so everyone got to where they needed to be on time – which is no easy feat for someone who has never respected the clock.

More importantly, you taught me to care about someone’s life and well being more than my own and to love unconditionally. And, for that, I cannot tell you how thankful I am.

You see, children are indeed a gift from God. I don’t care if they are your own, nieces and nephews or the kids next door. Children challenge us to think creatively and to question why things are done the way they are. They help us to see frogs and flowers and mud puddles. They remind us that the world is a beautiful and amazing place for us to touch, taste, smell, hear and see God’s presence threaded throughout all that is. I love, even today, experiencing life through your eyes. You challenge me to rethink old notions and thoughts; to hike on muddy, rocky paths…both in reality and metaphorically; and to embrace all that life has to offer. I am deeply grateful for that, too.

So, on this day, thank-you for the flowers and the dinner. Thank you for the phone calls and the “I love you’s”. But, most of all, thank you for the memories and the assurance that we will continue to navigate this crazy thing called “life” together. 

Elves, wreaths, purpose and meaning…

12 Thursday Dec 2013

Posted by in Advent, spirituality

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UnknownI guess I am the last person to find out about The Elf on the Shelf. I’m not quite sure how I missed it. Maybe because my kids are grown? Although I still frequent the card shops that litter them around the store. I just didn’t see it as anything other than a cute, Christmassy decoration. Little did I know the magnitude of its purpose and meaning, which I shall try to paraphrase. It’s like this little guy’s job is to live in a household or a classroom as be a hotline to Santa, reporting in on a daily basis about the behavior of the community he lives in. Seems Santa needs some help – something that can be seen and, unlike previous generations who were plagued by the thought of Santa’s unrestricted observations, not left to the imagination. His level of frustration results from being sent away from the North Pole where all the other elves get to make toys and is manifested in little impish acts which are observed by multitudes of children each morning. I am not part of this tradition so I have some questions that may seem to have obvious answers. I mean, if the elf is supposed to elicit good behavior in children, how do you explain the elf’s indiscretions? And, why is good behavior only important right before Christmas? No one notices the other 11 months? Obviously there is a piece of the lore that I missed…

As I pondered this phenomena, it occurred to me that in like manner there are traditions in the church that hold deeper meanings that aren’t readily understood. The advent wreath comes to mind. Now, it’s pretty common knowledge amongst Christians that the wreath holds four candles that surround one large white candle. The four candles can be red …or purple…or blue and the candle for the third week can be pink or rose…or it can be purple or blue or red. Each candle is representative of a specific word or thought, depending on the denomination presenting the information. They might be prophecy, Bethlehem, shepherd or angel. Or they might be hope, preparation, joy, and love. The second candle might also be called the peace candle. The center candle is universally thought of as the Christ candle and is always white. The wreath itself is a symbol of God’s all encompassing love that has no beginning and no end. Although there is no consensus on whether this tradition came before or after the beginning of Christianity, some speculate a wreath was decorated with candles during the dark of winter in pre-Christian Germany as a symbol of hope and encouragement that spring would certainly come. With the array of details surrounding the Advent wreath, it’s no wonder so many of us simply sit back and watch each week as a candle is lit, recognizing that the countdown to Christmas is well on it’s way. By the time the fourth candle is lit, many of us are in a mild state of apoplexy hoping that we will still have time to accomplish the myriad of things we feel the need to complete before the Big Day.

But, what if we look at the wreath as more that a seasonal calendar? What if we ponder and reflect on the meaning behind the candle of the week and carry that meaning into the world as we go about our business? Instead of a countdown, the wreath might become a reminder of the message Christ brought to us.

Let’s call the first candle “hope”. Hope is an amazing thing! It’s the realization that there is something to be learned in the midst of the worst life can throw at us. It’s seeing the humor in a distressing situation. Hope is optimism, even when something is as bleak as a cold winter night. It’s recognizing goodness in people, even when those people seem to be the reason for our stress. Although, sometimes our perception of hope needs help. In those moments it helps to consciously identify gratitude in and through and about the thing that is making life difficult. Maybe it’s cold outside, but it makes the cocoa taste just that much better. Maybe a loved one lives far, far away, but you live in the era of cell phones and emails. Maybe the illness doesn’t have a good prognosis, but you find the people around you are bringing meals and love into your home. Maybe the checkout line is long and slow, but you have time to breathe deep and relax while you wait for your turn. Hope can change anxiety and stress into the realization that life might suck at the moment, but there is something amazing just around the corner.

The peace candle is lit on the second week. There is an amazing song played primarily during the holiday season. The first lines take us from world peace to inner peace. “Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me; let there be peace on earth, the peace that was meant to be.” What if we felt that kind of peace inside of us? The Apostle Paul in Philippians 4:6-7 tells us, “Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (NRSV) Okay, when we turn this one inside out, we find encouragement not to stress over a given situation, to chat about it with God through prayer, remembering to find that nugget of gratitude. It’s like we look back to the hope candle and forward to the Christ candle to find that place where we experience peace. Then, when we really, truly feel peace, we can’t help but interact with others without defenses, power grabs, criticisms, judgment, or any of the other things that work against getting along. And…if we can find that sense of peace as we interact in our homes, our work, and our neighborhoods, maybe others will feel it and share it leading to that elusive peace on earth.

Week three seems pretty obvious when as we come off of weeks one and two. How could we feel anything but joy when we realize hope and peace are possible? Romans 15:13 states, “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.” (NRSV) Interesting how these three words – hope, peace and joy – keep intertwining in and through and around Christ, who came to us as God incarnate.

It’s fitting that the last candle on the wreath is “love”. Think about it. The first letter to the Corinthians states, ““Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” (12: 4-8) This passage includes all of the candles on the wreath! Hope, peace, joy and love!

The final candle is found in the center of the wreath. Unlike the variety of colors and words assigned to the other four candles, this is always called the Christ candle and is always white. Christ is at the center of hope, peace, joy and love and hope, peace, joy and love all point to Christ. Imagine it as if Christ sparks energy and light into all of the other candles and they in turn build on that energy as it returns back toward Christ. It’s like breathing in and out or the ocean’s rhythms through its ebbs and tides. Christ at the center, humanity emulating Christ…back and forth until God’s will is achieved on earth as it is in heaven.

A simple wreath with a few candles guides us through the season of Advent, reminding us of what and who is important as we progress toward Christmas day. Take time each week to focus on the candle making it your mantra as you go about your business, your shopping, at home, at celebrations and in your quiet meditations.

The backside of waiting…

05 Thursday Dec 2013

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Can you remember what it was like to wait when you were a child? The period of time from one Christmas to the next was an eternity. I remember waking up the morning after Christmas feeling somewhat depressed that a WHOLE YEAR had to go by before we could enjoy the season once again. By July, one could look back and realize that time was moving in the right direction. After all, seven months had passed. Only 5 more to go until Christmas – that special day when we saw family, ate amazing food, had an endless array of cookies and opened gifts hoping to fulfill our deepest expectations.

The thing is, there were actually other markers along the way. A birthday; another year of school finished and the beginning of a new grade level; puppies being born; a move to a new city; celebrations with family for a birth, an anniversary or maybe a death; travels; braces on, braces off; and the list goes on. In spite of anticipation for certain events in the future, the space between then and now is where life actually happens. Each moment is full of opportunity, experience and the potential for learned wisdom. The irony is the period of waiting for that special occasion is the actual reality while the anticipated event can be a distraction from those things that tumble and form us into the self we are or the self we are to become.

Tradition tells us Advent is a period of waiting and preparation. If you really think about it, preparation for an event should be proportional to what we are waiting for. When we wait the long nine months for a baby to be born, we prepare a place for that child in our homes. A room gets painted, a crib is purchased, a closet or dresser is cleared out to make room for diapers, blankets and those precious little clothes we blissfully purchase with abandon. Showers offer us time to celebrate with friends and family as they share gifts with us intended to welcome the little one into our home. Step by step we prepare so that we can be somewhat ready to take on the role of parenting when the baby finally arrives.

Then there is the preparation we find ourselves in before Christmas…Oh my… In four short weeks we decorate, shop, wrap, bake, cook, clean, plan parties, attend parties, smile, wonder why we are so exhausted, smile some more and so it goes. Consumer marketing has taught us that we are preparing for the ultimate day complete with perfectly and thoughtfully selected and impeccably wrapped gifts for our family, friends, neighbors, co-workers, and general acquaintances. Homes are decorated beyond belief. The single Christmas tree of the past is no longer enough. Each room takes on the aura of a winter wonderland complete with exquisite mantel displays, artfully decorated trees, seasonal centerpieces, dishes and linens while holiday vignettes procure every imaginable surface. However, it did occur to me one Christmas season that if I decorated all of our tables, shelves and flat surfaces with runners, florals and Christmas figurines, there would be nowhere for dust to accumulate thus limiting the amount of cleaning I would have to do throughout the season. That knowledge carried me through the hours of arranging and rearranging necessary to create the seasonal images I had grown to believe were necessary. Additionally, one must design and send Christmas cards imprinted with a breathtaking family portrait, stuffed with the obligatory letter to highlight how special our year was and properly personalized with calligraphy lettered salutations and envelopes. The final and most spectacular event is the meal itself. But wait! The Christmas meal is no longer enough. Calorie laden feasts are presented on Christmas Eve, Christmas brunch and Christmas dinner. I’m overwhelmed just writing about it. The thought of actually completing all of the preparations puts me in a catatonic state. I’m not convinced this is the preparation tradition intended for us.

It is wise to re-think what we are waiting for during Advent. If we are awaiting the perfect Christmas events, then our preparations will look like the scenario depicted in the previous paragraph. But, is that truly what we are waiting for? Our ancient relatives longed for the Messiah. As they waited, they got up every day; went to work; ate regular meals; shared seasonal celebrations with their families, friends and neighbors; cried; laughed; mourned; and experienced the best and the worst of life. They waited for that unexpected day when a child was born in the City of Bethlehem and watched as the child grew into a man of great wisdom and character – a man who taught them about love, acceptance and compassion and what it looked like to live as God intended for humanity to live. In like fashion, we now wait for that perfect experience that will occur when He comes again to lead with mercy and justice. The odd thing is, our wait is no different than that of our ancestors. Truly, we should wait seeped in the ways of The One for whom we wait, recognizing He walks with us every moment of every day prompting us to share His ways with those who are diminished by society, finances or health. His ways never involved a bullhorn on a street corner complete with a sermonette about the awful things that will happen if you don’t do what the speaker says you need to do. His caring came in the form of a gentle touch, a shared meal, a simple acceptance of where a person stood in life and a compassionate nudge toward better choices.

Truth be told, I am currently surrounded by plastic crates filled with seasonal decorations to adorn our home as a means to announce to all who come here that we are waiting – and ready – for Christmas. I will bake decadent treats and plan a fabulous meal…or two…or three. I have begun the arduous task of finding wonderful gifts for family and friends. I have a ‘station’ set up with gift-wrap, tape, scissors and fabulous ribbons. I am preparing for the kind of Christmas made popular by the influence of retailers and the media. Yet, beneath it all I am preparing for the real Christmas. I’ll remember those who need a meal to get through a rough time; I’ll focus on the goodness of those whom I am seeking the perfect gift for; and I’ll take time to walk and meditate on the beauty of God in this world. In my weakest, nastiest, most stressed and anxious moments, I’ll try to remember that the memories of this day are not in the gifts, the decorations, or the meals. The true memories are in the moments when people come together with love and compassion to celebrate and share the love that God modeled for us on that starry night long ago.

Yes, the focus of our preparation must be consistent with what we are waiting for. How will you wait?