Category Archives: Faith

October 15, 2011

Commas

By So Here's Us.... life on the raggedy edge.

I love to write and I always have, ever since I started writing short stories about Rascal the Raccoon in the back of my grade 3 exercise book when I was supposed to be learning my times tables. I may not be the most brilliant author of all time (every single Rascal Raccoon story started and ended exactly the same, after all), but I’m fairly confident in my skills, except for one thing: I’ve never been very good with commas. It seems like such a small thing, but it can make all the difference between a well-crafted sentence and a wordy, unreadable mess.

I didn’t always appreciate this fact. When I recruited a friend to proofread my English 11 essay on Macbeth, I was frustrated by his insistence on punctuational accuracy. I mean, who cares about commas, periods and semi-colons when I have important things to say? But he knew these little breaks make a huge difference. He was a good editor.

So, I decided to keep him… and now, when my husband edits my blog posts, he teases me about my poor punctuation. Even with the casual format of blogging, I need to do better. In my last post he had to add only one comma; that’s my all-time record!

“Say it out loud; wherever you take a natural pause, that is where you put a comma” he says.

I’ve never been good with commas, in writing or in life. There are times when I need a deliberate pause. Time to take a breath before moving on to the next thing.

I tend to operate at two speeds: go and stop. When I am really busy, I often forget to eat or even to take reasonable bathroom breaks. There’s nothing dignified about a 35 year old woman doing the pee-pee dance, because she just had to get one more thing done. And on the rare occasions when I’m not busy, inertia begins to set in and it’s hard to get my butt off the couch at all. Yet life, like good writing, flows best with an unhurried rhythm and the occasional pause.

Today I needed a pause. I needed to get out of the house and find some solitude. I felt guilty about it. I worried about all the things I should be doing (knowing full well I wasn’t going to do them even if I did stay home). I asked my husband repeatedly if he minded, until he was irritated at me for thinking the world would fall apart if I left for a few minutes. “It must be hard being a single mom” (his new favourite line from Modern Family). When I finally took a walk in the woods, it was EXACTLY what I needed. Why do I fight it?

What if I took a few minutes each day to enjoy what is, rather than worry about what still needs to be done? What if I saw interruptions as a natural pause in my life, not a ghastly inconvenience? What if I took a moment to pray, to listen, and to catch my breath, whenever I can, all day long?

Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me-watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.

~ Jesus (Matthew 11: 28-30)

I’ve never been good with commas, but I have a good editor who’s teaching me to do better.

So, here’s me, embracing the comma.

3 Comments   |  tags: , , , , | posted in creativity, spiritual

October 8, 2011

The BEST news ever!

By So Here's Us.... life on the raggedy edge.

I am following up yesterday’s post about the problem with chocolate with some awesome, stupendous, brilliant news! If you haven’t read it, this may not make that much sense to you. In a nutshell, our family has decided to boycott buying chocolate bars because they are made through the use of child slavery. I know, crazy right?

Now the good news… Cadbury is now making one of their most popular chocolate bars with Fair Trade cocoa beans.

My kids tell me this picture is "soooo cheesy and embarassing"

This means sustainable farming for the entire community and no child labour. It’s not a perfect system and needs to be constantly monitered to keep the pressure on, but it is definitely a step in the right direction.

Fair Trade Dairy Milk was launched summer 2010, but only in certain countries such as Britian, Ireland, New Zealand, Australia and, wait for it… CANADA!

I’m more than a little bit THRILLED that this is one of my all time favourites bars. I was willing to give up chocolate because it was the right thing to do. Now, I can support positive change by buying MORE chocolate. Life is good.

I considered titling yesterday’s post “Why Capitalism is Evil” but decided against it. While I’m not a communist, I do have a problem with powerful corporations ruling the world. This is for one simple reason: they do not have a soul. They aren’t designed that way. But we do. We, the consumers, hold far more power than we realize.

Why else would Cadbury go to the trouble and extra expense of doing the right thing? If we begin to expect better, to demand it, we can change business as usual. Vote with your wallet and let them know it. We influence corporations best by what we DO buy, rather than what we don’t.

So, Cadbury, I really appreciate what you’ve done for the people of West Africa. I will only be buying Fair Trade chocolate from now on, so be warned – sales of Dairy Milk may soar. Also, could you please, please, please make Fruit & Nut bars fair trade also? Those are really yummy and I’m going to miss them.

As for Hershey’s and Nestle… come on guys, get with the program! Your products are delicious, but I’m going to use my power as a consumer to do good and not evil.

 “This is the kind of WORSHIP I’m after: to break the chains of injustice, get rid of exploitation in the workplace, free the oppressed, cancel debts. What I’m interested in seeing you do is: sharing your food with the hungry, inviting the homeless poor into your homes, putting clothes on the shivering ill-clad, being available to your own families. Do this and the lights will turn on, and your lives will turn around at once. Your righteousness will pave your way. The God of glory will secure your passage.” (Isaiah 58:6-8)

 ~ God

So here’s me, rescuing the oppressed – one chocolate bar at a time.

1 Comment   |  tags: , , , , | posted in social justice, spiritual

September 26, 2011

Everything Must Change

By So Here's Us.... life on the raggedy edge.

It snuck up on me. A conference on social justice that we had signed up for months ago – before we realized what a crazy, busy season of life this would be and before head colds swept through the family. Part of me was thrilled to escape a house full of snotty kleenexes and whiney patients; another part was wishing I could curl up on the couch with them. But I’m sure glad I didn’t.

I listened to some amazing authors and speakers tell story after story about the projects they were involved in. Impressive campaigns to rescue young girls from sexual slavery, reform the mental health system, lobby corporations on behalf of migrant workers, battle the HIV/Aids pandemic, and on and on and on. Brilliant, driven men and women who, let’s face it, would intimidate a saint with their passion and selflessness.

Just the other day I felt completely overwhelmed by a counter full of dirty dishes. How can I face a planet full of suffering and injustice? Even now I can hear the siren song of mediocrity. Leave the world-changing to someone who is smarter and more powerful than you. You can barely keep up with your own busy life, how can you possibly do more? You do more than most people, pat yourself on the back and turn the T.V. back on.

I had braced myself for a heaping dose of guilt; for pictures of starving children with distended bellies and flies in their eyes, for stories that would rip my heart out. Perhaps a stirring rendition of “Man in the Mirror”? And I did dirty my shirt sleeve wiping tears and mascara streaks away (note to self – next time bring kleenex).

One man told the story of touring a hospital in Africa. The staff were kind, but overwhelmed. There were 4-5 babies in each crib. As he walked through, he was startled by an inhuman wail. Turning around, he realized it was the cry of a young mother as a white sheet was placed over the face of her infant daughter. Only a short time later he heard it again, then again and again – almost every 10 minutes during his visit there was another anguished scream.

But this was not the theme of the day. The story I heard repeatedly was one of hope and faith and joy. Each of these powerhouse leaders told stories about their relationships, not their causes.

My friend from Guatemala who is supporting his 11 siblings…

My friend who has schizophrenia…

My friend who cannot feed her children…

not sad stories, but inspiring individuals.

Yes, they are strategic. They are seeking restorative justice and systematic change. But this is not charity – they are simply looking out for their friends.

That’s something even I can handle. I may not understand the complexities of political change or walk with the movers and shakers in society. But I can be a friend to someone who needs it.

There is so much wrong with the world, so much that needs to change. It seems overwhelming. Yet, the greatest requirement of my faith is incredibly simple: love God and love others.

Can I do that? Can you? Can you make the world a better place for one person? That’s social justice. That’s where real change starts.

“We can do no great things, but only small things with great love.” ~Mother Theresa

So here’s me, finally washing my dishes… with great love. 😉

Leave a comment   |  tags: , , | posted in social justice, spiritual

September 6, 2011

Bippety Boppety Boo!

By So Here's Us.... life on the raggedy edge.

I would listen with rapt attention to everything they said. I noticed how they dressed, found their jokes hilarious and craved their advice. They had credibility for one simple reason: they were NOT my parents.

Most of us have had at least one person who took an interest in us when we were young. Especially in the teen years these adults seemed cooler, smarter and infinitely more interesting than our own parents. With only a few minutes attention when we need it most, they can have a HUGE impact on our lives – for better or for worse. When I was trying to figure out who I wanted to become it was these youth leaders, sunday school teachers, friend’s parents and family members who made a difference. My parents set me on the right track and they encouraged me to stay the course.

Back when I did staff training we called it the “expert-with-a-briefcase effect.” Everyone would listen and respond so much better when an outsider was brought to teach them exactly the same things we had been saying all along! I couldn’t take it personally, since the same held true when I went somewhere else as the “expert.” We all sit up a little straighter and open our minds a bit wider when the teaching comes from someone new.

Last weekend I stood in front of the church and made vows. I had been asked asked to stand up as my neice’s godmother. Now, I must confess this is not my first gig as a godparent. Unfortunately, between job changes and moves across the country, we have lost touch with the family that asked us over a decade ago. We don’t really know our godson and even with Facebook in the mix it doesn’t seem likely to change. But I am determined to do better this time around, even more so after all the solemn promises I made.

The ceremony was held in a beautiful old church complete with liturgy, vestments, kneeling and all sorts of Anglican customs that seemed both strange and exotic to me. Godparenting is not something Baptists have embraced and I think it’s a real shame. All parents could use a little spiritual back-up; an expert from the outside if you like.

It’s easy right now – my neice is a sweet, happy baby who gives a great snuggle. She has a bit of a puking problem, but she and I have discussed it and we feel it’s under control. But I want to be there for the not-so-easy days too:

when an unkind word seems like the END of the world…

when parents are JUST SO UNFAIR…

when it feels like no boy will EVER look her way…

when they do…

when church seems ____________ (stupid/boring/hypocritical/irrelevant)…

when there are more questions than answers and God seems far away…

Thank you to all of you who were there for me on those days! I hope my own kids will find role models like you. People who are not only fun and silly, but wise and compassionate. Parents are absolutely crucial, but the old saying is also true: it takes a village.

With a busy family of my own, being a godmother seems somewhat daunting, but oh, so important. Not because her parents aren’t terrific, but because they are. Since most of the godparenting examples I know of are either magical fairies or ruthless mobsters, I’m asking for help. I do all the talking in this blog and I’d love to hear from you for a change.

So here’s me, asking for your ideas. What are some practical ways I can support my new god-daughter?

Plus, a muppet clip… just ’cause.

3 Comments   |  tags: , , | posted in parenting, spiritual

August 28, 2011

You talkin’ to me?!

By So Here's Us.... life on the raggedy edge.

Today I sat through a terrible sermon. There was no outline, no sermon notes, not even points on the screen (staple ingredients in any contemporary church experience). While the speaker seemed kind and genuine, he was afflicted with the most greivous of all pastoral sins… he rambled.

Round and round it went and it was often hard to discern what his point was. The object lesson may have been interesting, but he forgot to explain it and we couldn’t see it anyway (we were sitting in the third row). I was torn between annoyance that he didn’t plan his talk properly and sympathy that he was floundering in front of all these people.

I wish I could leave it at that. A few mocking comments about the haphazard preacher and a self-deprecating confession about my tendency to play the critic. Perhaps some observations about their children’s program or the interesting art on the walls. Keep it light and impersonal: a humorous recounting of a visit to my cousin’s church.

But, then he had to go and say it – that thing I’ve been chewing on for days. In “Christian-speak” I would say: “the Lord has laid it on my heart” which sounds a whole lot more spiritual than “I suck and I can’t seem to stop thinking about it.”

Apparently, God doesn’t need an eloquent speaker, an eager audience or even (gasp) a sermon outline to make His point. Ya, he was talking to me this morning.

It started last week when I spent the day with my sister. I was telling her, yet again, one of my ‘they done me wrong’ stories. It’s a doozy.

I was right and they were wrong.

I was hurt and it was their fault.

I come out looking like a hero and they are the heartless villains.

It really happened. It’s dramatic and interesting. It’s one of my favourites. And she’s heard it… several times according to her.

Modern english has a word for this:  the habitual retelling and reliving a hurt. It’s called a grudge. I don’t have many, but I keep this one in pristine condition. I am ready at the drop of a hat to pull it out and polish it up again.

Despite what pop psychology may teach, the bitter diatribe is not a healthy venting of emotion. It is the bread and butter of unforgiveness. Telling this story has reinforced my negative attitude towards people I honestly care about. It colours my perceptions of everything they say and do, until they really can do no right in my eyes. Even worse, I spread the poison to others. I come away feeling validated and leave their reputation in tatters.

Unfortunately I am not perfect. This fact often irritates me, but it is one of the theological concepts I am not remotely fuzzy about. I am in constant need of forgiveness. What a hypocrite I am to refuse to give what I have received myself. Forgiveness, not in theory, but for real and for good.

“…and forgive us our sins, as we have forgiven those who sin against us.” (Matthew 6:12)

Forgiveness is not a warm, fuzzy feeling you try to manufacture. It is an act of the will. Often it is something that must be done over and over again. Perhaps that is because we love to tell our stories over and over again.

As hard as it is for a life-long chatterbox like me to admit, there are some things that don’t need to be said out loud… ever. Even though I know you are dying of curiosity, you will never hear the story from me again. And that’s a promise.

So here’s me, finally shutting up about it.

6 Comments   |  tags: , , | posted in spiritual