Brave, Anyway

Tag: christian

  • Unpopular

    Unpopular

    I find myself biting my tongue, while screaming at the top of my lungs internally, all the time. It’s just too much right now. All of America, that is – on social media, in the grocery store, in the drop-off line at elementary schools, at school board meetings, everywhere in our government, and with media coverage of any and all things. It’s all just too much.

    Absolutely everything is polarized and political. People on all parts of the spectrum really need to consult a dictionary about the definitions of opinion and fact, and people on all parts of the spectrum just cannot seem to communicate anymore without some crazy drama.

    Maybe this is a side effect of covid and quarantine – we’ve spent so much time isolated and in our own heads that when confronted with people again we’re either an excited puppy who can’t calm down or a selfish human who’s found an audience. What has happened to social discourse? To letting the person who only has one item go in front of you in the checkout? To kindness and to humanity and to respecting others? Why can’t we admit that someone from our political party isn’t doing a good job, or behaved badly?

    And where are all the voices in the middle? The people who aren’t “black and white” absolutes on everything and who can see the validity of some points from both “sides?” The people who have feelings that are complicated because of their life experience. Maybe one of the casualties of quarantine is that the voices of the middle are silent, largely because they’re just exhausted.

    I keep a note in my phone where I sometimes write down things I want to say but hold back. I also have email drafts I’ll never hit send on. Sometimes it’s helpful to just get those thoughts out, to put them somewhere, so the moment can pass more quickly. Thoughts that are unpopular, and it just isn’t worth the energy (or I know the lady also shopping for apples doesn’t care what I think about her “facts” about why the shelves are empty).

    -I completely respect that you don’t want to wear a mask. But in order for us to peacefully coexist you need to not stand one foot behind me in line. You need to respect people’s personal space at all times, even if we’re not in a pandemic and whether or not they wear a mask. And if you see others wearing a mask the good-human thing to do is give them even more space, making the positive assumption that they or someone in their life is at risk in ways you do not understand.

    -Thank you for your feedback on how little we can actually trust doctors, but I cannot believe that the pediatricians and oncologists and surgeons and cardiologists who went to so much effort to save my daughter’s life would then be so awful as to recommend that she get a vaccine that they secretly know could kill her. Maybe you need to check yourself, and also please post a screenshot of your high school report card so we know with certainty how much of a genius we’re actually working with here.

    -Who cares about Tom Brady?! Every time I see him, I think of Ross Gellar and his glow-in-the-dark teeth.

    This is my opinion. I know nothing about football.

    -I believe that masks should be worn in schools right now, but I understand your concerns about how they might be impacting kids. I have a child who’s a cancer survivor, and I know I worry more about her than I probably should. That child is also in speech therapy and she and many others need to see faces. I can want kids to wear masks right now and at the same time believe that they aren’t great long-term. This does not make me a snowflake. I actually agree with some of what you are saying, which you’d know if you shut up for even three seconds.

    -More than any other reason, I want the pandemic to be over so my girls can live more care-freely and so they get to experience all the things. I want them to go to dances and games and plays and concerts. I want kids I don’t even know to show up at my house and want to play with the girls and stay up all night watching movies and goofing off. If your child isn’t wearing a mask and isn’t vaccinated, I do not want my children to sit next to yours. I love you and your kids and I respect your right to make choices, but you are a risk to people we love. All of these things can be my true feelings at the same time.

    -Cheers is not even close to being the greatest sitcom of all time. You could *maybe* make an argument for Frasier, but just stop it with that ridiculousness.

    -Some of you are so worked up about critical race theory and you want to ban books because you have no idea why you actually think what you do and/or you cannot have hard conversations with your kids. You have nothing to fear from kids being exposed to historical facts or other ideas if you have a leg to stand on with your own beliefs or arguments. I will sit down with my girls any day of the week and talk to them about abortion, slavery, tenets of other religions, or gun control. They might one day think differently than me and that is not something to be afraid of. We should be raising children to think critically, not to be mini-mes – and they can’t do that if they are not exposed to the good the bad and the ugly of all things.

    -Every legislator and voter needs to spend one week sitting and watching in a pharmacy as parents and the elderly and people from all age groups and walks of life hear the cost of their medicine and then have to make a decision about whether or not to purchase that prescription.

    -Youngkin’s implementation of an email address where people can report teachers for talking about race or divisive topics reminds me of text written about the Gestapo. “Some citizens passed on information about their neighbors, family, and friends…The information passed on by informants typically accused someone of breaking the law or of being a criminal in some way. The information provided was not always based on fact and could often be rumor or suspicion…Informers had various motives including antisemitism, racism, a strong belief in Nazi ideology and governance, fear, personal gain, professional gain, and personal disagreements (e.g. informing the Gestapo that someone was a communist in response to a personal dislike or argument with that person). Most informers were aware of the consequences of their actions.” What are we afraid of parents? Is it that our children will see ugliness, or more so that they will see ugliness in us?

    Every news outlet and pundit tells us that the issue, whatever it is, is clear and it’s very black and white. But that’s a lie. There is so much gray in the world, and it’s in the middle. It’s in the people with complicated and even conflicting emotions and stances. It’s in millions of people who have processed information and life experiences into much more than the simplicity of black and white. It’s unpopular, but I think the genius is in the gray and the empathy is in the gray and the humanity is in the gray and the love is in the gray. The truth is in the gray.

    “Middle gray” is the center tone between absolute back and absolute white.

  • Keeping Myself Honest

    My journal entry from January 19, 2014, was called Keeping Myself Honest. I wrote it and then shared it because I really wanted to not wimp out and I thought I might.

    I have been thinking about going back to church.

    Since Audrey was born, I’ve only been a couple of times – early on to show everyone we were OK, then once a year later to have her baptized.

    Some people know I haven’t been attending and some people don’t. I’m ashamed of it, so I’m pretty good at hiding it. Truthfully, I think I am closer to God now than I have ever been. I pray about everything, all the time. I just don’t go to church right now.

    Why did I have Audrey baptized in a church I haven’t been attending? Tradition?

    Because I still believe in God. And because I want to cover her with some sort of protection shield – she’s God’s child, so with that protection she can’t be sick or overtaken by illness.

    But God’s children sometimes do get sick. I, of course, know that. I’ve seen people much more faithful than I who had a much sicker child than mine was. People much more faithful that lost their child. People with n    o faith at all, or who have the “wrong” God,  whose children got a horrible diagnosis but were healed – or who never even were sick! So who did something right and who did something wrong? Why were some people’s children healed and some not? Was it luck of the draw? Is it something the parents did or did not do? What is the secret? And why haven’t I under covered it yet?

    I was a pretty good pregnant person – I didn’t eat junk all day, didn’t smoke, etc. Yet people who treated their bodies horribly were having healthy children while Audrey was in the NICU. People who didn’t want children were having healthy children. I’ll admit I wasn’t a happy pregnant person. I didn’t feel well and I was grumpy to say the least. Was that it? But then why Audrey – I was the same way with Ella and she’s fine.

    Was it the oats I sowed in my younger years? Perhaps I was being punished for those. Was it the cheese I ate, the painting we did in her room, the water I drank from the tap, the chemicals in my lawn, or the fact that I laid more on my left side than my right?

    Was I not really as good of a Christian as I thought? Was God disappointed in me? And if so, seriously, was THIS the punishment?

    No, of course not. I *think* I have finally resolved that the answer is pretty simple. We live in an imperfect world, and sometimes really crappy things happen. It just is. Some people lose their children and some people don’t. Some people have children with medical issues and some don’t.

    So why not go back to church after this epiphany? Because of intense emotions. Shame. Anger. Thankfulness. Sadness. Love. The desire for anonymity.

    Shame: I have spent a lot of time wondering what I did to bring on the cancer diagnosis for my child. Other people have to wonder the same thing. How horrible must they think I have been at some point in my life?

    Anger: I have been a Christian my entire life. Not that anyone deserves a cancer diagnosis, but seriously this is what I get? Aren’t I owed something a little better than that?

    Thankfulness: I am so grateful, every moment of every day, that Audrey is healthy. When I walk into the building that we call church, sometimes I am so overwhelmed with gratitude that my eyes fill with tears. Just as I don’t know what I did to deserve the diagnosis, I also don’t know what I did to deserve the miracle of healing. It is humbling, to say the least.

    Sadness and Love: These two are uniquely tied. There are people at church that truly care about me, that I have known my entire life. They sent me cards/texts/messages that conveyed their love and hope and faith, and I cherish each one. But what I can’t get out of my memory is the looks on their faces during those early     days. They would see me and immediately their countenance would change. I could see their pity, and I still hate that. I could see their sadness and concern, and I am still overwhelmed by it.

    Anonymity: Sometimes I think it would be great to just meet all new people who didn’t know and who wouldn’t make me feel all these emotions. Do people know I will never be the same again and would the people I grew up with be disappointed by that? Is that a failure, not getting back to your old self? Does everyone see us through the lens of the cancer Audrey had? Of that time in our lives. Do I? I think maybe I do and that frustrates me.

    Did you notice that I didn’t say “Audrey’s cancer?” That was purposeful. I don’t want to speak anything negative or even slightly acknowledge in my speech that the cancer is Audrey’s. It most definitely is not. Call it superstitious. Or call it the southern Pentecostal belief that words have power and can work for good or bad. Call it neurotic or silly or sad. I believe it’s a bit of all of it, and frankly if I read somewhere that a daily ritual of hopping on one leg while singing Mary Had A Little Lamb had worked to keep someone else’s child cancer-free I would probably do that, too, just in case.

    I am thinking about going back to church, because I need to be fed. I am thinking about going back to church because Ella and Audrey are missing out on something that is an important and fun part of childhood. I am thinking about going back to church because Ella is asking more and more questions I need help answering. I am thinking about going back to church because I think this range of emotions may never go away, or at the very least will not get better without exposure over time. I am thinking about going back to church because I can now give support and not just take support. I am thinking about going back to church simply because I miss it. I am thinking about going back to church because I’ve realized that there’s not a point at which I will be my old self again, and that that’s not a weakness.

    I am sharing this simply to keep myself honest. I am going back to church and am not going to wimp out.

    Thankful I did not wimp out – I am stronger and better and happier because of it. Thankful that God did not – and will never – give up on me. Thankful that Audrey is a cancer survivor. Thankful for all the people who supported us and loved on us during those early years – many of whom I still get to hug on Sundays (they must be tired of waiting for me to get to real adulthood). Thankful that my girls both love Jesus, and for all the people in their village who teach them and guide them and pray for them. Thankful for the beautiful historical building that is my church and for the beautiful group of people who are my church – whether we are gathered together in person or online, the words of Matthew always come to mind: “where two or three are gathered together in my name, I am there among them.”

  • Promise

    Promise

    A year ago at about this time I was mulling over what my word for 2021 would be. The word that kept coming to mind was promise, but I dismissed it over and over again. In the middle of a pandemic with virtual school, not seeing anyone in person at Christmas, and vaccine rollout looking shaky, I wasn’t feeling the word promise.

    On New Year’s Eve I thought that maybe my word would come to me in the first few weeks of the new year. And I even thought that maybe every year didn’t need a word and maybe 2021 just wouldn’t have one.

    But then all throughout this year, things that I’ve been talking to God about for a very long time, things that have been on my heart but I’ve never spoken out loud, even some things that were important to me at a time but I’d since forgotten about have started to happen or fall into place. And each time, the word promise has come back to me and lingered in my thoughts.

    And I realized something this year…that I had stopped actively believing in promises. It wasn’t a decision I made at any point. It just sort of happened over time. As life happened, I guess. I still believed that prayers had power and that God answered prayers, but I didn’t necessarily expect promises to be fulfilled.

    So I started researching God’s promises. As it turns out there are dozens and dozens of them, and I even pretty regularly read and rely on them – I just haven’t been thinking of them as promises.

    * There is a plan for my life. Ephesians 2:10 and Jeremiah 29:11

    * I am filled with strength and courage even when/if I don’t feel like it. 2 Timothy 1:7

    * I can do hard things. Isaiah 40:29

    * I can follow my gut and trust my gut because God provides discernment. James 1:5

    * My children may have doubts and bad days, but they are always, always going to be children of God and know God. Acts 16:31

    * When I really mess up, God loves me anyway and nothing will change that. Romans 8

    * I always have a safe place, somewhere to hide. Psalm 5

    * Nothing that happens to me or around me is ever a surprise to a God, so He is not unprepared which means I am not unprepared. Psalm 139

    * God knows what I need before I ask and sometimes even before I know, and He’s got it. Isaiah 65:24

    * Literally even His name is a promise – Emmanuel means God with us and his name is a reminder of His constant presence as I walk through each day.

    In the last few years I’ve talked to God about everything from helping me fulfill my promise to get Ella a car, to living without fear, to providing the perfect helpers for the girls, to healing for hearts and bodies. In the last 12 months, He’s delivered over and over and over again – even with small desires like finding a beloved lost ring. He also prepared people and hearts and things just in time before some tough stuff. There are still things I pray about each day, several times a day, that have not yet happened – and my type A need-to-see-data-and-progress self is not great at waiting or with letting someone else handle it. I want to DO all the things all the time because why do things take so long sometimes??? But the truth is I’m not capable of the biggies, and God is batting a thousand.

    I’ve decided my word for 2021 was actually promise, and I even came across a new (to me) promise in words that I’ve read many times before but suddenly read in a new way. In the days leading up to Jesus’ birth, two women who dared to believe in miracles and promises got together to encourage one another. One of the things Elizabeth said to Mary is “Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill His promises to her.” Luke 1:45

    These cloths with our prayers for the world and community will fill the manger in our church’s nativity.

  • America the Great

    America the Great

    In the last week I have watched two documentary series about 9/11, and the thing that sticks in my mind above all else is how much we’re capable of coming together. Of helping people, while not even thinking about differences. We can just be good humans and good neighbors.

    If we could just figure out how to do that outside of a tragedy or a war, we might truly be great.

  • Tough Talks

    Tough Talks

    Feast or famine. We’re all getting along gloriously, or annoyed and arguing all day. We find three pairs of shoes we want, or zero pairs of shoes that will be the needed match. The kitchen is full of desserts and we overeat, or we hate everything we see in the pantry.

    Tough conversations also seem to fall into this category. We can go for weeks or months without one, and then suddenly as the girls’ worlds get bigger in some way, I’m ambushed – sometimes caught still trying to map out what I should bring back up when a new subject pops up. What the heck did parents do before portable devices with a pathway to Google?! I rationally know I am not dumb, but I certainly feel like it pretty regularly. And I know the exact face I make when I know I am expected to speak but am out of my comfort zone, and four- letter-naughty words are rattling around in my head.

    Did you know makeup is tested on animals? I knew this, and yet I didn’t really know it. My go-to when unprepared is to respond to a question by asking a question, to buy time and assess the seriousness – a little but what have you heard? – but that didn’t even help here. She’d read a lot by the time she asked me. There’s no good answer for why humans would intentionally hurt animals, whether you’re trying to explain it to a person who doesn’t love animals or to a 10-year-old tender-hearted animal-lover. Cruelty is cruelty and it’s just not right. And no words can erase or explain the images that are so easily found on social media. So I landed on the old “when you know better, you do better” and sat patiently as she went through all of my products. Thankfully only four things ended up in the bad brands pile and a quick trip to Sephora fixed that. I was so proud to watch Audrey proudly tell the guy who greeted us that we were there to replace products by brands that aren’t kind to animals.

    Is abortion a sin? I’ve found that when I don’t feel certain in my answer, often because I am not really sure what I think or believe, that I just focus on statements that I am certain about. (1) Every woman I know who’s had one, whether they ultimately regretted it or not, remembers that day as one of the hardest of her life. (2) 1 in 3 or 4 women have had one, so we all know people who’ve made that choice and people who’ve made that choice fill our churches. (3) It takes two people to create a baby but abortion seems to be a sin of women only, and that’s just wrong. Whether the father is a loving counterpart or an abuser, he didn’t use birth control or tried to and it didn’t work, he drove her to the procedure or didn’t know the details, or maybe he was not around to even find out his counterpart was pregnant – he shares responsibility in the pregnancy and the outcome. (4) If we don’t lean toward empathy for people who’ve had to make this hard choice, no matter what choice they ended up making, we will never have real conversations with many of the people in our lives because shame thrives in environments of judgment.

    I feel weird about x. I hate when I don’t know context and I sense that if I ask a dozen questions to get the needed context I might frustrate the child and the opportunity for the conversation will be lost. If a situation makes you uncomfortable, even if it makes you seem silly to others, remove yourself from the situation. Always follow your gut. Additionally, if your gut says all is ok but something isn’t sitting right with a BFF, follow her gut. Maybe she’s more in touch with the universe today. Or maybe someone who would never be harmful to you would be harmful to her or someone else. Maybe it’s not even about physical harm; maybe it’s about mental peace. Follow your gut and support your tribe when they need to follow theirs. As a Mom or a friend or a colleague or a stranger, we need to support women following their instincts or advocating for who and what comes into their space.

    There’s no reason for this anxiety today. You’re right; today was a good day. But anxiety is not always about what’s happened today. Sometimes it’s about what happened a while ago. Sometimes it’s about lack of sleep or a good meal, sometimes it’s about overstimulation or a trigger, and sometimes it’s just about brain chemistry or hormones. Anxiety isn’t always going to make sense. Time spent in the moment overanalyzing all the reasons it may be happening or shouldn’t be happening is time spent poorly – time spent on how we help someone or ourselves get back to peace is time well spent. Sometimes we will really want to do things that will be a struggle for someone we care about. We can do them on our own or not do them – but part of loving someone with anxiety is not expecting them to do things that will cause them stress and helping them feel safe enough to communicate and to create boundaries, without fear of our reactions.

    Tough conversations make me second guess myself in ways I never do in other areas. Why did I take classes like Women in Cinema or Art History?! I should have been in classes like Explanations for Life’s Big Questions and Appropriate Responses to Drug and Alcohol Questions at Each Age Range.

    Just as I was overthinking all the ways I could maybe go back and touch on a few extra points without being annoying, I found my “Kindness Is” shirt in the mailbox (check out Kind Cotton!). I’d forgotten I ordered it, but it arrived at just the right time. Perhaps as long as we teach our kids the core things, and keep focusing primarily on those, we don’t always have to overthink so much.