Category Archives: 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