Brave, Anyway

Tag: bravegirlwannabe

  • Ugly Truths

    I’m so tired of left and right finger-pointing. I’m tired of “but you guys” did this or that. Or statements that include the words “both sides.” I’m done with this week’s responses like “criticizing the Capitol participants is hypocritical of you.” Or “you didn’t condemn the violence at Black Lives Matters protests last summer.” Actually I did. Lots of people did. And the other truth is that those BLM events were largely peaceful. And you know what else? The two things are not equivalent and cannot be compared.

    BLM is protesting the actions of people and a society in which many, many people will not admit that some of their actions or the actions of others have been wrong and racist. We don’t promote, punish, show grace, forgive, pay, support, offer trust, or treat all people the same way. Everyone who is white who reads this is guilty of some sort of bias. Our job as good humans is to call ourselves and others out when those biases come up. But we largely don’t do that, either because we benefit from the bias, we don’t want to make waves, or because we want to protect people we love or work with. One of the main purposes of BLM is to simply get people to see the inequities in our society so that we can do something about them.

    What happened at the Capitol was some people showed up to protest and some people showed up for an insurrection, to disrupt the will of the majority of voters in this country and our election process. That event was the result of 3 things: (1) people falling for blatant and easily disproven lies, (2) people blindly following a lying leader, and (3) a group of people who truly and very honestly admit they are white supremacists, and proud of it, and want the world to be led by people who are not any color but white and not any faith but Christian (although they clearly haven’t read the whole Bible).

    Supporting BLM is not a Republican or Democrat thing. It is not an act of the left or of socialists or liberals. It’s an act of humanity. It’s a realization that some people and processes and things need to be fixed. And it should be a movement that all people can get behind, especially Christians.

    For God so loved the world.

    We were all knitted together in our mother’s wombs.

    There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for we are all one in Christ Jesus.

    Christ is in all.

    As he has loved us we are called to love one another.

    We shall love our neighbor as ourselves.

    God sees our hearts, not their skin-covering. It’s our job to see how we’re behaving as it relates to skin and our sin as it relates to skin, and then to do better.

    A powerful reminder, from the Facebook page of my very smart friend Michelle.

    My heart is heavy for my country. My heart is heavy for the family of the officer that was brutally dragged into a crowd at the Capitol and then beaten with clubs and flagpoles and crutches. My heart is heavy for the blood we all have our hands because we refuse to acknowledge, let alone try to fix, the corrupt and racist systems we have in place. My heart is heavy as I listen to the pain in the voices of people of color who are tired of a lifetime of judgment and explaining and unease. My heart is heavy that we elected this four years ago, and that it will take lifetimes to repair the damage of that choice.

    We can’t just undo policy with the next administration and think things will get better. Because people can’t just un-know the support of such evil. And the reality is that lots of folks separate their vote from the crazies who did that at the Capitol and the one day when things got out of hand. How do you get people to see that a vote empowered racism, especially when no one wants to admit that while they may believe they aren’t prejudiced or biased or a racist, they are?

    Ideas all of us have about how people not like us will behave and whether or not we can trust them and about intentions, beliefs, intelligence, faith, and on and on are deeply rooted in all of us. Maybe the first step in healing is just getting us all to admit that. To speak and realize the truth in these awful words: I am a sometimes prejudiced. I am sometimes biased. I have supported racist people and behaviors. They are very ugly truths, but anything less than those statements is a lie.

  • Quarantine Christmas

    Quarantine Christmas

    Nine months into quarantine. And it’s Christmas.

    Nine months into a pregnancy. The first Christmas.

    Men and women preparing for an event that should be filled only with joy, but that also includes days that are sometimes marred by confusion or frustration or trepidation. Hearts in people that love God, and yet are still in need of some assurances and motivation. Is how we’re feeling now maybe also how Mary and Joseph were sometimes feeling two thousand years ago?

    We know Mary sang with joy while pregnant but did she perhaps also worry and fret about her future? Especially when she first found herself pregnant and faced having to tell people, like her parents and her sort-of husband. Or when she had to embark on a long journey right at about the time she would be delivering her baby. Did she ever grieve because her life wasn’t exactly going the way she expected? Did she ever feel anxious about responsibilities she didn’t feel prepared for or expectations she wasn’t sure she could live up to? Did she ever cry in the dark and still of night because she was tired and overwhelmed?

    Each year I try to read The Nativity Story, developed from the screenplay of the 2006 movie. It helps me think of the Bible “characters” as real people, who had thoughts and feelings and reactions like all people do. Like all humans do. Like I do.

    These last few months I have found myself constantly trying to be a “together” Mom who cheerfully and competently manages work at home and school at home and church at home and literally everything at home. All while being stuck at home. All. The. Time.

    I have had all kinds of time to put into action plans that one year ago I was convinced would never work until I had more time and a different schedule. Things like getting up early to walk and stay healthy, cooking fancy things on weeknights, reading the dozens of books and devotionals that are stacked around this house, patiently helping with homework after researching and refreshing my knowledge on all subjects needed to pass fourth and tenth grades, and really dedicating quiet time to just writing and focusing on family and faith.

    As it turns out, when faced with all kinds of time at home I will embrace DoorDash and books no one reads in school. I will not walk or ride bikes if it’s even remotely chilly or hot. I will spend time stewing over the ridiculous racist, sexist, total-antithesis-of-Christian content “good” people like on social media instead of brushing up on the different layers of the earth and atmosphere. I will focus on what is not working or not fair, I will then not sleep well and then not get up early, and as a result I will find myself frustrated. All. The. Time.

    Was Mary this human? It doesn’t seem like it. I feel more like Zacharias’ kind of human – the guy who didn’t believe Gabriel’s news that he was about to father John the Baptist, so faced a punishment of not being able to speak for months and had to learn the hard way that he should have a little more faith.

    It’s Christmas, and I competed all the tasks I needed to and had time to spare. This season I got out cards, finished shopping early, read the book I like to focus on in this season, watched the cartoons and movies I always like to watch, found a new nativity set…and yet still things were off. So last week, I gave up logging on to Facebook thinking maybe I just needed to not be exposed to people for a while and focus on more positive things. That definitely helped, but still there was just a strangeness about this season. A disconnectedness.

    All because of stupid COVID and quarantine. I wanted to dress up and go to the Christmas Eve service. I wanted to see my parents and my sister and brother-in-law. I wanted to hold hands while we say Grace. But I wasn’t going to get anything I wanted.

    And then today, I opened a gift from Ella and the world righted itself as thankfulness rose up within me. She’d filled a mason jar with hand-written notes. Some are funny, some are encouraging, and some are things she’s thankful for. Written on the first one I drew out was You showed me God.

    I’m not sure exactly how I’ve accomplished that, particularly in the last nine months, but somehow she loves God even though I am a stuck-at-home mess of feelings and frustration. The answer is only by the grace of God.

    I’ve been the innkeeper this quarantine Christmas season – the one missing the opportunity as I was focused on all the wrong things and all that wasn’t going to be the same. Thankfully, I opened Ella’s gift in time to notice all that quarantine added to this Christmas. Because my family celebrated via FaceTime today, it was actually less chaotic as we all opened presents. We had to really listen and pay attention to one another, and we were really looking at each other instead of at all that was going on in a busy house. Toward the end I realized I should take a picture of all of us “together.” The first picture I took had two empty chairs, because 2020. But I continued to try to get shots at just the right time even though at times our phones and iPads were moving around like in The Blair Witch Project.

    On quarantine Christmas, our limited shopping ability (online shopping is just not as fun) resulted in several homemade gifts that we all laughed and cried over. On quarantine Christmas, my sister gave my daughters the most thoughtful little boxes which will help them focus in tough moments but that are also really a lesson on how to live and to learn to trust God. On quarantine Christmas, I noticed the looks of joy on all the faces of the people I love the most. On quarantine Christmas, we didn’t take pictures all sitting or standing in a certain spot and as a result I now have this picture of my Dad. On quarantine Christmas, I got my thankfulness back.

  • Just Because

    This morning on the way home from an eye appointment with Ella, I saw my eagle. I feel such a kinship with this bird and this is the lowest and closest he has ever been flying near me. The pictures are not good because I didn’t think to get the phone/camera in time because I was too busy watching him and delighting in the moment, and also trying to convince my child I had not lost my mind because I wanted to pull over and really see him. But he was literally hovering over my car, maybe 10 feet above at one point.

    He’s my reminder of Isaiah 40:31 – But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.

    He’s been my encouragement from God on many occasions. He appears and I hear softly whispered words in my mind: this is just a moment you’re having and this is for only a short time and you got this and this weariness will pass and just keep going.

    One of the songs I’m stuck on right now, that moves me to teary eyes every single time, is Champion by Dante Bowe and Bethel Music.

    You are my champion, giants fall when you stand undefeated…I am seated, in the heavenly place, undefeated, with the One who has conquered it all.

    A couple weeks ago as I was headed for a scary doctor’s appointment, one of my best friends reminded me that God sees three daughters in my family – He doesn’t just see Ella and Audrey as His daughters, but He also sees me as His daughter. I forget that sometimes. I am a Mom and a caregiver, but I am also a child. His child.

    And I was reminded of that again today, as my eagle flew right into my line of sight and hovered in seeming slow motion over and around me. In all the years I’ve lived here I have never seen my eagle that close. What a thrill and a blessing and a surprise and a shot of absolute joy. It was an unexpected gift from a Father to His daughter. Just because.

  • Lingering Disappointment

    Lingering Disappointment

    You should never ever tell me how you voted. This is the conclusion I’ve come to. In order for us to coexist peacefully or for me to not be disappointed in you, I cannot know that you voted for a candidate who would not support my daughter. I cannot know that you voted against my daughter.

    I logically know that no one voted against Audrey. In fact, I’m one hundred percent positive that she never crossed your mind as you voted. And yet, she’s one of the two most important people in my life, so I cannot do anything – especially vote – without her at the forefront of my mind.

    As a cancer survivor, it’s incredibly important that Audrey always have health care. I’m a believer that health care is important and necessary for all people, but it’s truly critical that those among us who have battled or who are battling serious diseases or conditions receive care from childhood into adulthood. That means the parents of the most vulnerable need access to affordable health care and coverage, and that those kids who are the most vulnerable have access to affordable care and coverage as they move into adulthood.

    Maybe Audrey will be waiting tables when she’s 26, trying to finish grad school or medical school or law school. Maybe she’ll be an artist or a missionary or fixing cars. Whatever she wants to do, whatever she’s called to do, she will need access to health care. Which means she likely needs to be a cube dweller (and maybe not focusing on her calling), working in a job that doesn’t need advanced education, or she needs some form of the ACA to be in place.

    I want my child to have the same access to health care as anyone else’s child. Not only is she deserving of that as a human being, she fought very hard for life.

    So we can disagree on things like the second amendment, climate change measures, and taxes – but we cannot disagree on health care without me harboring a grudge against you and wondering if you really care about Audrey. Because no matter why you cast a vote for a candidate, I see your vote against Audrey.

    And maybe that’s not fair and maybe it’s mean. But it’s how I feel, and it feels good to give it a voice. I am longing for the day that America is a country where health care is not a partisan issue. Because sometimes I feel like West Virginia in the 1860s.

    How It Started and How It’s Going

  • Embers of Hope

    And we still don’t know, just as I suspected. And yet just as I dreaded. We may not know the outcome of the presidential election for quite some time, but we do know this: many of our neighbors and friends that we have categorized as good people because they are nice to us have in them the ability to support racism and the mistreatment of women and children. I will never understand how someone can say they are a Christian and support someone who so blatantly is not.

    My heart is heavy.

    I did not expect a landslide and yet my heart had this hope I was afraid to ever voice. It hoped that there was goodness in more people than I believed. That their goodness would rise up and stand for their neighbor. That their faith would rise up and say this behavior is not right and not what Jesus would do.

    It still matters to me who wins. But my faith in the goodness of people took another huge hit in the last 24 hours.

    Election day 2020 in my RBG sweatshirt. Not pictured: oldest jeans I own and furry pink slippers.