Some days I don't know how to "people."
You've heard the phrase that's becoming ever-popular in young adult circles lately: "I can't adult today."
Well, I couldn't "people" today.
I woke up in a fine mood. I had my coffee. The day was on track for me to want to be in the middle of everything and converse with everyone like I always do.
But I got to church and had trouble with the usual chit-chat. I felt awkward and out of place. Even as I sat through service I felt like I was in the way and that one thing that doesn't belong in "Which one of these things does not belong?" Yeah, it was weird.
We went to the zoo after church because Jack Hanna was in town, and if you know anything about me, you know that I love Jack Hanna because I watched him on Letterman with my folks growing up.
I got held up, but told Bo to go in and find us a seat. I get a text that says he's waiting outside the little arena where Jack's show will take place (He wanted to make sure I was able to get in before they stopped letting people into the arena because, well, that's just my sweet Bo being himself.).
Nonetheless, I think to myself, "Great. Now we're going to have crappy seats and will be blocked in by people on all sides."
We walk into the horseshoe-shaped space, and sure enough, that problem I had with "people-ing" earlier resurfaced.
They were everywhere. People, that is. Seemingly breathing down my neck. Shooting me glances as I slid down the cold metal bleacher that was directly in front of their family of four. "She better not block our view," I could almost hear them internally dialogue-ing with one another.
I felt frustrated. Crowded. Trapped. Hot. Cranky. Overly conscious of the space I was taking up with my broad shoulders and my camera.
The wait for the show to begin felt like it was d r a g g i n g .
"Will this thing ever start??" I asked myself. That's when I saw her.
A little girl--probably 7 or 8--wearing an orange bandanna on her head to match her Cleveland Browns jersey, holding her mom's hand as they, her two sisters, and her dad looked for an available seat.
It was pretty crowded by that point, but she led her family up the stairs with the confidence of a 20 something. I glanced in her direction as she got closer. No hair where eyebrows and eyelashes should be. Tired but smiling eyes that harbored a bit of excitement. Perhaps about the animals or maybe to see Jack. Who knows?
The point is, despite whatever hell she has faced/is facing, having all of the reasons in the world to be bothered by the crowd, the stuffiness, and a seat that wasn't the best, she chose joy. She chose to appreciate and be thankful for the space that she was in at that moment.
I sometimes forget how privileged I am--to only have had to sweat the small stuff in most of my twenty five years of life. Not to have had to deal with greater grief than what I've experienced. Never to have experienced or watch my loved ones experience the pain of serious illness.
I do not believe everything happens for a reason. But I do believe that God was with me as I noticed that little girl and her family today. Maybe the Divine was on the seat next to me, because there was certainly room, nudging me toward this family:
"Change your heart. Look outwardly, not inwardly. Use your energy to be present and to pray for those who suffer and whose suffering you know nothing about. Give of yourself out of love. Be moved by this child of mine and know that she is touching many more lives than just yours. Because you, my child, are but one piece of a very big puzzle--of all who have been, all who are, and all who will ever be. Just as my love has always been, is, and will forever be. Don't let stuff that doesn't matter harden your heart. Be selfless. Be kind. Be patient. Be generous. Be compassionate. That is who you were created to be."
It is amazing to me what God does and who God uses to reveal Godself in the world. And the ways in which that revelation calls us to get over ourselves and get into being active in revealing God's Kingdom...
through love.
That's it. Love first. Love always.
Thank you to that little girl and all she did for me today without even knowing. Please join me in praying for her, for her family, and for all who love her. Thanks for stopping by.
Sunday, September 20, 2015
Monday, September 14, 2015
Dinosaur socks and Mennonites rock
So, I have this friend.
His name is Mark.
We are two pret-ty different humans at surface level.
He loves academics and is easily one of the top five most brilliant people I know.
I'm intelligent, but academia isn't always my gig.
He is an introvert.
I'm an extrovert.
He's a cat person.
I'm a dog person.
He loves running.
I do not.
But beyond these surface-level differences, we share a common interest...
...a love for large reptiles. Dragons and dinosaurs, to be exact.
And even beyond that extremely important similarity, we also share a love for Jesus Christ and feel called to help others understand God's love for them in theological and practical ways.
I've always been drawn to Mark. It's weird. Because, well, I don't always know what to do with the quiet ones.
And the first time I encountered him--on my first day of seminary in Introduction to Ethics--I picked up on that quietness right away. I also quickly realized he had no qualms about making faces at people based on things they did or said. I think that second component may have been what intrigued me about him: Why is he making those faces, and is he being mean or funny by making them? It didn't take long for me to learn that that was just Mark, and there was nothing malicious about it.
As semesters went by and we had more classes together, we got to know one another somewhat better--sometimes by sitting close (never really beside) one another in class and/or sending each other sarcastic messages and stickers in facebook messages while trying to stay awake in those dreaded 2:00 PM classes. But I think it was when we both attended the required cross cultural trip to Cuernavaca, Mexico for our degree that we became what I consider to be real friends.
Late night card games, discussions about relationships, playing question games on dark van rides down a mountain after a full day of learning about and experiencing the culture, celebrating his birthday, playing charades, sitting *next to* each other at meals, witnessing him seemingly travel to another world when he sat down at a piano bench to play one of the last days of our trip...These are the events that built our friendship. No longer was Mark just this man that I looked up to for his brilliance and life experiences and gifts/passions for ministry, but he was someone I loved as my friend.
We remained close throughout the rest of his seminary career. I "WOOHOO!"'d when he walked across the stage last May, likely much to his chagrin, and though we don't get to see each other very often now, we still keep up in those snarky facebook messages and check in on each other from time to time.
Today, I got to witness my Marky stand before his congregation at Columbus Mennonite Church (It was my first time attending a Mennonite church, and it was so great on so many levels. I highly recommend visiting this congregation!) and deliver a beautiful sermon full of many of the things I have learned about him throughout the process that has been our friendship. From pulling in his audience with a combination of his charm, humor, and captivating storytelling abilities to making sure the text for the morning was well presented on many levels. He made us laugh (He made me cry.), he helped us learn, and maybe most importantly, he helped us connect the text with our everyday lived experiences and vice versa. In doing so, he helped us understand the ways that God continues to speak and act in our lives even when we don't always recognize or understand it.
As I mentioned earlier, I have always been drawn to Mark. But today, as I sat in the pew and intently listened to him give his sermon, I was not only drawn to Mark, the guy I met on my first day of seminary, but I was drawn to Mark, the effective pastor and preacher, who I am so incredibly proud of and who I am blessed to call my friend.
So, I have this friend.
His name is Mark.
We are two pret-ty different humans at surface level.
He loves academics and is easily one of the top five most brilliant people I know.
I'm intelligent, but academia isn't always my gig.
He is an introvert.
I'm an extrovert.
He's a cat person.
I'm a dog person.
He loves running.
I do not.
But beyond these surface-level differences, we share a common interest...
...a love for large reptiles. Dragons and dinosaurs, to be exact.
And even beyond that extremely important similarity, we also share a love for Jesus Christ and feel called to help others understand God's love for them in theological and practical ways.
I've always been drawn to Mark. It's weird. Because, well, I don't always know what to do with the quiet ones.
And the first time I encountered him--on my first day of seminary in Introduction to Ethics--I picked up on that quietness right away. I also quickly realized he had no qualms about making faces at people based on things they did or said. I think that second component may have been what intrigued me about him: Why is he making those faces, and is he being mean or funny by making them? It didn't take long for me to learn that that was just Mark, and there was nothing malicious about it.
As semesters went by and we had more classes together, we got to know one another somewhat better--sometimes by sitting close (never really beside) one another in class and/or sending each other sarcastic messages and stickers in facebook messages while trying to stay awake in those dreaded 2:00 PM classes. But I think it was when we both attended the required cross cultural trip to Cuernavaca, Mexico for our degree that we became what I consider to be real friends.
Late night card games, discussions about relationships, playing question games on dark van rides down a mountain after a full day of learning about and experiencing the culture, celebrating his birthday, playing charades, sitting *next to* each other at meals, witnessing him seemingly travel to another world when he sat down at a piano bench to play one of the last days of our trip...These are the events that built our friendship. No longer was Mark just this man that I looked up to for his brilliance and life experiences and gifts/passions for ministry, but he was someone I loved as my friend.
We remained close throughout the rest of his seminary career. I "WOOHOO!"'d when he walked across the stage last May, likely much to his chagrin, and though we don't get to see each other very often now, we still keep up in those snarky facebook messages and check in on each other from time to time.
 |
| He informed me after service that he wore these socks today just for me! :) Note to self: Invest in dragon socks for our next get-together. |
As I mentioned earlier, I have always been drawn to Mark. But today, as I sat in the pew and intently listened to him give his sermon, I was not only drawn to Mark, the guy I met on my first day of seminary, but I was drawn to Mark, the effective pastor and preacher, who I am so incredibly proud of and who I am blessed to call my friend.
Monday, September 7, 2015
It's been a few months since I've been here, in this space.
Likely because life, and people, and processes, and events have all been seemingly happening at breath-taking speeds with which I couldn't keep up.
Continued racial violence and murders.
Continued gun violence.
Continued persecution of people for merely being themselves.
Continued religious debates that do nothing but fuel hateful, Spirit-less fires.
Continued political debates that turn things like running for POTUS into a joke.
Continued news about the worst refugee crisis since WWII.
I still can't--keep up, that is. Not really. So much pain and confusion and feelings of helplessness and anger and desperation from all sides of every event, every newscast, every community, every pulpit.
I often wonder why at certain times the brokenness of the world seems to build upon itself like a snowball rolling down a never-ending hill in mid December, while simultaneously getting bigger and bigger and bigger...
I will admit that the snowball effect has taken its toll on me lately. Not only am I trying to discern ways of authentically living my life that lessen these terrible things, ways that offer life-giving support to real people in real places all over the world, but I'm getting lost in my questions, frustrations, and heartbroken-ness for these same people and same places.
Where is the hope in the midst of these realities that I largely know nothing about aside from listening to firsthand accounts and reading articles that might or might not be depicting credible depictions of these stories?
It's almost as if all of these thoughts in my head and feelings in my heart were (and still sort of are, I guess) causing my body and spirit to short circuit and disconnect from one another.
My body is tired, but it can't rest--too much over-thinking, worrying, being angry about what's happening in the world. Dreams about drowning refugees occur every time I close my eyes.
My spirit is tired, but it can't rest--too much heartbreak, loneliness, suffering happening in the world. I can't wrap my mind around one event before another one happens for which I should be praying and/or grieving with those who grieve.
I'm slightly numb--in some sort of holding pattern waiting for my body and my spirit to realign.
But today, just for a few hours, I felt it. I felt the pieces slowly gravitate toward one another, slowly move back into their rightful places. The snowball slowed, and my body relaxed, coffee cup in hand, for the first time in a long time. And, miraculously, my spirit decided to show up for this momentous occasion as well.
There we were. Somehow, all of me made it to church this morning--not in compartmentalized fractions, but in fluid yet united wholeness. I was thinking and I was feeling, but in ways that made sense and in ways that eliminated the numbness to which I had resorted.
As the sunshine reached through the stained glass, over our heads, and up toward the altar, I leaned into my chair and listened intently to the piano and organ as they harmonized with one another, to the flute as it movingly piped along, and to the soloist as she offered her angelic renditions of Pie Jesu and The Lord's Prayer. Hot tears streamed down my face as I felt the presence of God meet us in those holy moments.
I listened to God's word for those gathered in the pews this morning, and the tears continued to fall as if signifying the re-connect of my body and spirit was at long last taking place. We learned about knowing the difference between wisdom and knowledge, the importance of mercy over judgment, the brokenness that we all share, and the gift that we have in Holy Communion--where we can admit the ways we are so desperate for God's grace while recognizing the ways that God's grace in the bread and cup gives us the strength and perseverance to be vessels of God's mercy and love in the world. I guess you could say, it re-connects us--to God, to each other, and to ourselves.
In the hours following worship, the mess of the world threatened to undo the re-connecting that took place earlier this morning. And while the mess continues to haunt me, I'm hoping that the ways God spoke this morning--through presence, music, word, and sacrament--stay at the very forefront of my mind...reminding me to re-connect to the Creator and to all those whom the Creator loves, even the mess that is me.
Thanks for stopping by. May you go in peace knowing you are not alone in your brokenness or the brokenness of this world even though it often feels like it. May you be reassured that it is never too late to re-connect.
Likely because life, and people, and processes, and events have all been seemingly happening at breath-taking speeds with which I couldn't keep up.
Continued racial violence and murders.
Continued gun violence.
Continued persecution of people for merely being themselves.
Continued religious debates that do nothing but fuel hateful, Spirit-less fires.
Continued political debates that turn things like running for POTUS into a joke.
Continued news about the worst refugee crisis since WWII.
I still can't--keep up, that is. Not really. So much pain and confusion and feelings of helplessness and anger and desperation from all sides of every event, every newscast, every community, every pulpit.
I often wonder why at certain times the brokenness of the world seems to build upon itself like a snowball rolling down a never-ending hill in mid December, while simultaneously getting bigger and bigger and bigger...
I will admit that the snowball effect has taken its toll on me lately. Not only am I trying to discern ways of authentically living my life that lessen these terrible things, ways that offer life-giving support to real people in real places all over the world, but I'm getting lost in my questions, frustrations, and heartbroken-ness for these same people and same places.
Where is the hope in the midst of these realities that I largely know nothing about aside from listening to firsthand accounts and reading articles that might or might not be depicting credible depictions of these stories?
It's almost as if all of these thoughts in my head and feelings in my heart were (and still sort of are, I guess) causing my body and spirit to short circuit and disconnect from one another.
My body is tired, but it can't rest--too much over-thinking, worrying, being angry about what's happening in the world. Dreams about drowning refugees occur every time I close my eyes.
My spirit is tired, but it can't rest--too much heartbreak, loneliness, suffering happening in the world. I can't wrap my mind around one event before another one happens for which I should be praying and/or grieving with those who grieve.
I'm slightly numb--in some sort of holding pattern waiting for my body and my spirit to realign.
But today, just for a few hours, I felt it. I felt the pieces slowly gravitate toward one another, slowly move back into their rightful places. The snowball slowed, and my body relaxed, coffee cup in hand, for the first time in a long time. And, miraculously, my spirit decided to show up for this momentous occasion as well.
There we were. Somehow, all of me made it to church this morning--not in compartmentalized fractions, but in fluid yet united wholeness. I was thinking and I was feeling, but in ways that made sense and in ways that eliminated the numbness to which I had resorted.
As the sunshine reached through the stained glass, over our heads, and up toward the altar, I leaned into my chair and listened intently to the piano and organ as they harmonized with one another, to the flute as it movingly piped along, and to the soloist as she offered her angelic renditions of Pie Jesu and The Lord's Prayer. Hot tears streamed down my face as I felt the presence of God meet us in those holy moments.
 |
| It seems as though beautiful skylines are always involved on the days in which I encounter God most vividly. |
In the hours following worship, the mess of the world threatened to undo the re-connecting that took place earlier this morning. And while the mess continues to haunt me, I'm hoping that the ways God spoke this morning--through presence, music, word, and sacrament--stay at the very forefront of my mind...reminding me to re-connect to the Creator and to all those whom the Creator loves, even the mess that is me.
Thanks for stopping by. May you go in peace knowing you are not alone in your brokenness or the brokenness of this world even though it often feels like it. May you be reassured that it is never too late to re-connect.
Sunday, May 10, 2015
Today is the second Sunday in May.
For those to whom such a greeting is appropriate: Happy Mother's Day
For those to whom such a greeting is appropriate:Happy Second Sunday in May
Mother's Day is one of those, as a dear pastor friend accurately stated, "mixed bag" holidays.
While the women who have mothered us--whether biologically from birth or in various stops along our life's journey--should be celebrated and honored, I am always left with concern pertaining to those for whom such a day is not a joyous occasion.
I asked Bo on the way to church this morning, "Do you think people who have lost their mothers, were never able to become mothers, etc. just avoid all forms of social media--and possibly public life in general--today?" He responded with something along the lines of, "They probably wish they could."
I have loved seeing the nearly-one hundred sweet tributes to mothers on facebook and instagram today. I love getting to see the special nature of these relationships put into words in ways they maybe haven't been before or in ways that are nuanced this year from last. Pictures from the past and present, fond memories, celebratory lunches, precious gifts all offered as signs of our appreciation for those who have helped us find ourselves in this wacky world in which we live.
Hear me when I say that I think celebrating our loved ones is good. Really good, actually. I think one of the ways love is spread is through appreciative celebration, and therefore, should be acted out as often as possible.
Let those who have impacted you know that they have made a difference in your life and that you love them, especially parents or people who have acted in their place!
...But let us also remember those who experience the alternative side to this holiday.
Let us remember:
The woman who always wanted to be a mom, but could not
The woman who lost her child or multiple children
Those whose mothers are critically ill
The mother whose children have abandoned her
The man whose mother was cruel to him as a child
The women who have lost their own mothers too soon
The man who lost his mother in a car crash
The couples who are having difficulty adopting
The woman who is in her seventies yet still misses her mother so much that it hurts
The many who are estranged from their mothers for various reasons
The women who are not ready or do not want to have children yet are constantly questioned about when they will have children because, well, isn't that why women exist?
And everyone else who struggles with this holiday and others like it.
Don't feel sorry for these people and others who do not share our joy on this day because that will not eliminate their pain. Pray for them--better yet, pray with them. Reach out to them. Let them know that they, too, are being thought about and that they are loved on this day of all days when the darkness might be creeping in on them at a steady and painful pace.
May we resemble our Creator, offering love to all--those we want to thank for teaching us, nurturing us, and supporting us throughout our lived experiences and also those who need comforting arms to envelope them and willing ears to listen to them. May we strive to make all know they are loved today...and every other day of the year as well.
--As a warning, an ode to my own mothers follows, so please feel free to refrain from reading if you have seen more than enough Mother's Day posts for today. Thanks for stopping by, and may the peace of Christ be with you.
For those to whom such a greeting is appropriate: Happy Mother's Day
For those to whom such a greeting is appropriate:Happy Second Sunday in May
Mother's Day is one of those, as a dear pastor friend accurately stated, "mixed bag" holidays.
While the women who have mothered us--whether biologically from birth or in various stops along our life's journey--should be celebrated and honored, I am always left with concern pertaining to those for whom such a day is not a joyous occasion.
I asked Bo on the way to church this morning, "Do you think people who have lost their mothers, were never able to become mothers, etc. just avoid all forms of social media--and possibly public life in general--today?" He responded with something along the lines of, "They probably wish they could."
I have loved seeing the nearly-one hundred sweet tributes to mothers on facebook and instagram today. I love getting to see the special nature of these relationships put into words in ways they maybe haven't been before or in ways that are nuanced this year from last. Pictures from the past and present, fond memories, celebratory lunches, precious gifts all offered as signs of our appreciation for those who have helped us find ourselves in this wacky world in which we live.
Hear me when I say that I think celebrating our loved ones is good. Really good, actually. I think one of the ways love is spread is through appreciative celebration, and therefore, should be acted out as often as possible.
Let those who have impacted you know that they have made a difference in your life and that you love them, especially parents or people who have acted in their place!
...But let us also remember those who experience the alternative side to this holiday.
Let us remember:
The woman who always wanted to be a mom, but could not
The woman who lost her child or multiple children
Those whose mothers are critically ill
The mother whose children have abandoned her
The man whose mother was cruel to him as a child
The women who have lost their own mothers too soon
The man who lost his mother in a car crash
The couples who are having difficulty adopting
The woman who is in her seventies yet still misses her mother so much that it hurts
The many who are estranged from their mothers for various reasons
The women who are not ready or do not want to have children yet are constantly questioned about when they will have children because, well, isn't that why women exist?
And everyone else who struggles with this holiday and others like it.
Don't feel sorry for these people and others who do not share our joy on this day because that will not eliminate their pain. Pray for them--better yet, pray with them. Reach out to them. Let them know that they, too, are being thought about and that they are loved on this day of all days when the darkness might be creeping in on them at a steady and painful pace.
May we resemble our Creator, offering love to all--those we want to thank for teaching us, nurturing us, and supporting us throughout our lived experiences and also those who need comforting arms to envelope them and willing ears to listen to them. May we strive to make all know they are loved today...and every other day of the year as well.
--As a warning, an ode to my own mothers follows, so please feel free to refrain from reading if you have seen more than enough Mother's Day posts for today. Thanks for stopping by, and may the peace of Christ be with you.
To my Mum: Thank you for loving me for all my life with all of your being, for encouraging me to be myself and assuring me that I am enough just as I am. Thank you for teaching me what it looks like to be a loving wife and mother and also what it looks like to work your butt off for what you want and to take care of your family. I will never ever be able to thank you enough for all of the lessons you have taught me, but I can assure you that any good parts of me that exist are largely attributed to those very lessons. Thank you for being my best friend. I love you.
To my Mom, the mother of my husband: In the short time I've known you, you, too have taught me so much. You also work hard to take care of your family and have raised two of the most incredible southern gentlemen I have ever had the privilege to know. From day one, you've loved me like your own and welcomed me into your family. I love that we get each other in ways that I think the boys are sometimes a little slow to understand. I love our jokes and our Natchez adventures, and most of all I love that you gave me Bo. He is one of the greatest gifts I've ever received, and I know I have you to thank for the amazing man that he is. I love you.
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
I am not anti-"selfie."
Read: I do not condemn the practice of taking pictures of oneself and sharing them on social media, with friends, etc.
I am well-aware we live in a world in which social media has significant influence--with negative pictures, negative articles, negative statuses, and negative tweets, it is not difficult to see the ways that the lives of human beings and social media are enmeshed with one another.
Which is why I do not oppose "selfies."
Gosh, I hate that word. It sounds like we're talking to small children in a baby voice: "You're just da cutest wittle selfie dere ever was, yes you are!" ....ugh. Makes me wanna hurl.
I understand that many people (particularly women) are annoyed and confused as to why other people (women in particular) post photos of themselves to social media for all to see, like, comment, etc. Indeed, at the surface level, it seems like a pretty egotistical and self-centered thing to do. And maybe that's part of what drives such posts, but allow me to give my two cents here. (Hey, you brought it upon yourself by clicking the link. ;) )
I was having a conversation with one of my best friends the other day about these "selfies" and absorbed her sentiments about the practice as she told me, "I hate selfies in general." My response was as follows: "I honestly don't have a problem with 'selfies.' In a world where women are constantly told they're not good enough for X reason, the fact that women can still feel confident enough to post a picture of themselves even when they don't fit society's standard of pretty just to say, 'Dang. I feel good about myself today and I want the world to know it,' is pretty remarkable. That's got self-empowerment written all over it, so I'm a supporter. *stops rant and steps off soapbox*" Luckily, my best friend is also a feminist (and a patient best friend), so she could understand my frustrations at society and didn't mind that I took that particular opportunity to word vomit all over her about my general feelings on the topic. [[Love you, Kaiti. Thanks for dealing with me and always helping me learn!]]
So, I've thought a lot about this conversation and about the shame women (as well as men) undergo--usually behind their backs--for posting pictures of themselves, and I've decided that, whether you do or don't fit society's norms of what it means to be beautiful, handsome, etc., that if you're having a good day and wanna tell people about it, then by golly, you do it! Take a daggum picture of yourself, if you want to, to show the world your #ootd (outfit of the day) or that you're proud of the job you did with your makeup, or that you're having fun with your significant other, or that you're having a good hair day, or WHATEVER.
The world needs more positive vibes and less negative ones, especially in the body image department of any and all genders. So, I encourage us--not to hop on the social media self portrait train if that ain't your thing--but to think about the ways that being positive about self image and going public with said positivity could potentially help others embrace their outer and inner beauty as well.
I say let's build each other up, not break each other down, and be vocal with one another whether we like someone's dress, makeup, suit, bowtie, and, more importantly...let's be vocal with one another when we are touched by the sweet, kind, and supportive spirits of those around us who help us navigate this crazy world in which we live.
Read: I do not condemn the practice of taking pictures of oneself and sharing them on social media, with friends, etc.
I am well-aware we live in a world in which social media has significant influence--with negative pictures, negative articles, negative statuses, and negative tweets, it is not difficult to see the ways that the lives of human beings and social media are enmeshed with one another.
Which is why I do not oppose "selfies."
Gosh, I hate that word. It sounds like we're talking to small children in a baby voice: "You're just da cutest wittle selfie dere ever was, yes you are!" ....ugh. Makes me wanna hurl.
I understand that many people (particularly women) are annoyed and confused as to why other people (women in particular) post photos of themselves to social media for all to see, like, comment, etc. Indeed, at the surface level, it seems like a pretty egotistical and self-centered thing to do. And maybe that's part of what drives such posts, but allow me to give my two cents here. (Hey, you brought it upon yourself by clicking the link. ;) )
I was having a conversation with one of my best friends the other day about these "selfies" and absorbed her sentiments about the practice as she told me, "I hate selfies in general." My response was as follows: "I honestly don't have a problem with 'selfies.' In a world where women are constantly told they're not good enough for X reason, the fact that women can still feel confident enough to post a picture of themselves even when they don't fit society's standard of pretty just to say, 'Dang. I feel good about myself today and I want the world to know it,' is pretty remarkable. That's got self-empowerment written all over it, so I'm a supporter. *stops rant and steps off soapbox*" Luckily, my best friend is also a feminist (and a patient best friend), so she could understand my frustrations at society and didn't mind that I took that particular opportunity to word vomit all over her about my general feelings on the topic. [[Love you, Kaiti. Thanks for dealing with me and always helping me learn!]]
So, I've thought a lot about this conversation and about the shame women (as well as men) undergo--usually behind their backs--for posting pictures of themselves, and I've decided that, whether you do or don't fit society's norms of what it means to be beautiful, handsome, etc., that if you're having a good day and wanna tell people about it, then by golly, you do it! Take a daggum picture of yourself, if you want to, to show the world your #ootd (outfit of the day) or that you're proud of the job you did with your makeup, or that you're having fun with your significant other, or that you're having a good hair day, or WHATEVER.
The world needs more positive vibes and less negative ones, especially in the body image department of any and all genders. So, I encourage us--not to hop on the social media self portrait train if that ain't your thing--but to think about the ways that being positive about self image and going public with said positivity could potentially help others embrace their outer and inner beauty as well.
I say let's build each other up, not break each other down, and be vocal with one another whether we like someone's dress, makeup, suit, bowtie, and, more importantly...let's be vocal with one another when we are touched by the sweet, kind, and supportive spirits of those around us who help us navigate this crazy world in which we live.
Positivity. Pass it on, my friends. It can take over the world if we let it!
Saturday, February 21, 2015
It was just one of those days...
The house was too small.
The amount of snow was too big.
There was too much to do.
There was not enough time.
I needed to read.
I wanted to sleep.
I wanted to go.
I had to stay.
You know when you're younger, and snow is the weather-equivalent of your best friend? You stayed home with your people friends and had no worries because your parents took care of all the potential cares--food, transportation, entertainment. You name it, they had it covered (Since I know you're one of the two people that reads this on the reg., thanks, Mum. You're the best!). It was ideal. It was grand. It was a stay-cation of sorts that you crossed your fingers for on a regular basis every December thru February.
When you get older, things tend to get a tad un-romanticized in the winter department.
Mad props to those of you who love winter, the cold, and the snow, but for those of us with various forms of seasonal depression, the snow...and being stuck inside...with nothing but artificial light for a sorry excuse for Vitamin D can sometimes be overwhelming.
I've gotten pretty good at keeping a good face throughout these Ohio winters and usually choose to internalize my feelings about the cold and gray rather than blurt it all over for everyone to hear.
Today, was no different. I internalized alright. To the point that I pretended I was invisible. I didn't speak, I hid most of the day confined to one of the four rooms in our apartment and legitimately pretended I wasn't here.
It was a very isolating experience, and for those of you who either are or are close with an extrovert or two, you know isolation is not ideal for us. We usually like and want to be around people and feel the need to verbalize our thoughts to process whatever twelve topics happen to be fluttering around in our brains at the time.
So, you can probably imagine where I was mentally and spiritually today. Pretty down, pretty alone (internally...poor Bo was concerned most of the day as to why I wasn't speaking. The things that man has to deal with...).
It's ironic that today is the day I chose to dwell in solitude as Bo will preach about Jesus' temptation in the desert tomorrow morning (Matthew 4:1-11). I spent the day going through a lot of emotions: sadness, loneliness, and temptation (to perhaps scream at being trapped inside and in my introverted world) to name a few.
I also thought a lot about the kinds of feelings Jesus must have felt being all alone in the desert. I felt alone today, and I was in a warm house with a happy husband and food to eat.
Jesus didn't have any of that while in the desert. A lot of people go through the winter (as well as the rest of the year) without things like I could have been blessed by today--a warm place to be, family, and food--had I taken the time to acknowledge them and be thankful. My blessings were right there, all around me, and I didn't take the time to appreciate them. Even if I couldn't take the time to appreciate them, the least I could have done was thank God that they were there and pray for those who don't have such essential and crucial needs met in their lives.
Weird how "one of those days" can teach you so much about yourself in retrospect. Lots to learn, lots of room to grow. Here's to keeping the #Lentenrevelations comin'.
The house was too small.
The amount of snow was too big.
There was too much to do.
There was not enough time.
I needed to read.
I wanted to sleep.
I wanted to go.
I had to stay.
You know when you're younger, and snow is the weather-equivalent of your best friend? You stayed home with your people friends and had no worries because your parents took care of all the potential cares--food, transportation, entertainment. You name it, they had it covered (Since I know you're one of the two people that reads this on the reg., thanks, Mum. You're the best!). It was ideal. It was grand. It was a stay-cation of sorts that you crossed your fingers for on a regular basis every December thru February.
When you get older, things tend to get a tad un-romanticized in the winter department.
Mad props to those of you who love winter, the cold, and the snow, but for those of us with various forms of seasonal depression, the snow...and being stuck inside...with nothing but artificial light for a sorry excuse for Vitamin D can sometimes be overwhelming.
I've gotten pretty good at keeping a good face throughout these Ohio winters and usually choose to internalize my feelings about the cold and gray rather than blurt it all over for everyone to hear.
Today, was no different. I internalized alright. To the point that I pretended I was invisible. I didn't speak, I hid most of the day confined to one of the four rooms in our apartment and legitimately pretended I wasn't here.
It was a very isolating experience, and for those of you who either are or are close with an extrovert or two, you know isolation is not ideal for us. We usually like and want to be around people and feel the need to verbalize our thoughts to process whatever twelve topics happen to be fluttering around in our brains at the time.
So, you can probably imagine where I was mentally and spiritually today. Pretty down, pretty alone (internally...poor Bo was concerned most of the day as to why I wasn't speaking. The things that man has to deal with...).
It's ironic that today is the day I chose to dwell in solitude as Bo will preach about Jesus' temptation in the desert tomorrow morning (Matthew 4:1-11). I spent the day going through a lot of emotions: sadness, loneliness, and temptation (to perhaps scream at being trapped inside and in my introverted world) to name a few.
I also thought a lot about the kinds of feelings Jesus must have felt being all alone in the desert. I felt alone today, and I was in a warm house with a happy husband and food to eat.
Jesus didn't have any of that while in the desert. A lot of people go through the winter (as well as the rest of the year) without things like I could have been blessed by today--a warm place to be, family, and food--had I taken the time to acknowledge them and be thankful. My blessings were right there, all around me, and I didn't take the time to appreciate them. Even if I couldn't take the time to appreciate them, the least I could have done was thank God that they were there and pray for those who don't have such essential and crucial needs met in their lives.
Weird how "one of those days" can teach you so much about yourself in retrospect. Lots to learn, lots of room to grow. Here's to keeping the #Lentenrevelations comin'.
Saturday, January 24, 2015
Please consider
Have you ever worried about whether or not you'd get to witness a kangaroo in-the-fur before you died?
For most of us, probably not.
Easily enough, we could travel to Columbus, Nashville, or any other assortment of zoos around the country to lay our eyes on one of these majestic creatures if we truly desired.
Heck, some of us might even have the means to hop the next flight to Australia and see them in their natural habitats.
But some people (specifically sick children for the sake of this post) don't have such a privilege.
-----
It's interesting the means by which our heartstrings can be yanked at any given moment. Social media was that means for me today when I happened upon this picture in my facebook newsfeed from the Ronald McDonald House Charities page:
Have you ever seen such a precious face?
No information on this little one or the scenario was presented in the caption. However, as soon as my brain had registered what I was seeing and my context clues clicked into place, one thing became painfully clear--this little girl is sick. And I cried for the fifteen minutes it took to travel to my afternoon class. I don't know why this picture affected me more than the other pictures I see from RMH, but I was struck with the realities this little girl and many like her who are ill face, and it moved me to write.
She likely can't go to the zoo like other little ones due to germs, lack of energy, etc. And while I am hopeful that she's in good hands where she is, my heart breaks that she is not fully healthy. My heart breaks for her parents whose hearts likely break for her on a daily, perhaps sometimes hourly, basis.
My heart breaks that this child had to interact with kangaroos in a hospital setting instead of riding in a stroller on a warm day, wearing one of those cute sun bonnets while her parents happily chit-chat in the background and take her around to see all the amazing creatures God spoke into being.
And maybe that day is coming for this little one. I sincerely hope it is.
Whether it is or whether it isn't, what a gift those taking care of her physical and emotional health have given her by providing her an opportunity to experience the wonder that life and creation often bring. The look on her little face makes clear what a gift she has been given...by spying with her little eyes kangaroos...in-the-fur.
-----
How privileged are we who have stepped outside today.
How privileged are we who have had a decent meal today.
How privileged are we who have our health today.
How privileged are we who felt the warmth of love today.
-----
I know seeing some kangaroos might not seem like a big deal to most, but I have a hunch it was very special to a certain little girl. Children are constantly on my mind as of late, especially the ways that they tend to give us a more wholesome, real, entertaining, and precious look into who God is and the ways God can teach us about life, especially through these tiny humans.
Organizations like Ronald McDonald House Charities and St. Jude Children's Research Hospital are both very near and dear to my heart as their desire is to care for children who are ill as well as care for their families who spend sleepless days and nights going above and beyond for their children.
Donations are what make these organizations run. Every little bit helps, and I actually mean that--it's not just another cliche. I've witnessed the ways that these organizations help care for children and their families and it is truly amazing and humbling.
So, if you have a couple of extra dollars (or an extra couple of hundred dollars) sitting in your bank account or just lying around, please consider.
Please consider donating to one or both of the charities whose links are listed below, and hug your children--and all your loved ones--a little closer tonight.
Loving God,
We thank you for another day in this life and for all of the ways we have received blessing from your presence and love. We come to you tonight deeply saddened by the ways of this world, that illness exists and is something so many face, especially children. God, give your comfort and peace to all of the children who are ill, to their parents and doctors, and to all of your people who are struggling with illness and loss tonight and who will struggle beyond tonight. Help them know you are with them and help the rest of us extend your light and love to them in the best ways possible. We love you and thank you, Lord, for loving us. Amen.
https://donate.rmhc.org/SSLPage.aspx?pid=390&b=http://www.rmhc.org/
https://shop.stjude.org/GiftCatalog/donation.do?cID=14262&pID=24671&sc_cid=kwp8050&sc_kw=st%20jude%20children's%20research%20hospital&sc_mt=e&sc_adid=57180097642&gclid=CjwKEAiA_4emBRCxi8_f2cWWjFcSJAB-v1qy54w94U7JLSysjpkJ6U8hm27aCbwF0ywfWH6oJ2qSqxoC6XHw_wcB
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