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.
Sometimes we don’t know what we don’t know or we don’t know what we’ve been missing, until we experience a thing and realize that’s what we’ve needed.
For the first time in over a year, I went to church to worship in person this morning. I’ve been watching the service online each week and that’s been a beacon of light and hope amidst all the darkness and chaos. Online church offers many things in-person church doesn’t – you get to choose the time you want to listen, you can sit in your jammies and pause if needed, and you have privacy to have a moment or be moved without anyone noticing. But what it doesn’t offer, and that I’d forgotten and perhaps taken for granted, is things like hugs from people who feel like family, prayer in unison with others, and conversation with people with whom you have the most important thing in common.
I was nervous about going into a place with so many people, even though I knew we’d all be wearing masks and social distancing. We’re all vaccinated, but still the thought of being physically close to people again seemed strange and a little scary. I resolved to arrive at the last minute, keep my distance, and leave promptly – and I broke every single one of my own rules.
We arrived early because Audrey and I were excited to go and ready early and trying to decide if it used to take 25 minutes or 35 minutes to get there. We walked into an entry filled with familiar faces, and within two minutes I had hugged someone – not because he hugged me, but because I found myself saying “we’re vaccinated so you’re getting a hug!” And then when the service was over, we stayed around to chat and were among the last to walk out and say our goodbyes on the stairs.
I didn’t want it to end, I was so happy.
It was in the middle of the service that I looked at the pew in front of me and noticed the emoji face etched into the wood. Two eyes and a mouth in a straight line. The emoji that’s not happy or sad. The emoji that’s blah. It’s the one called Neutral Face, and it’s how I didn’t know I’ve been feeling because of the absence of worship with people.
As we sang and talked about counting every blessing, these are the ones that filled my heart and the things I want to remember about this day.
Every Good Friday, and actually on all my dark days, my favorite words of Pope John Paul II always come to mind.
Do not abandon yourselves to despair. We are the Easter people and hallelujah is our song.
More simply, sometimes our Sunday is just 48 hours away.
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.
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.
On the last day of real life, six months ago today, I ate pizza at a restaurant with some of my favorite people. I miss them. Critical commentary and witty banter in person feels like family. Critical commentary and witty banter via Zoom feels like maybe we’re mean.
For days I will eat a bagel, some pickles and cheese for lunch, and maybe a bowl of cereal and a mini Hershey bar before bed. Then one day I will consume ten thousand calories within a few hours – chicken biscuit, a box of Gobstoppers, pizza, fries, banana cream pie from the Cheesecake Factory. I will get a tummy ache and promise myself and God I will never ever eat that way again if I can just go to sleep and feel better. But about 10 days later I will in fact do it again. I cannot seem to stop this cycle.
This household consumes ketchup at the rate of 38 ounces every 6 days. It is more precious than milk, bread, OJ, and maybe even toilet paper.
John Cusack should not play a serious serial killer. Just stop it, Netflix. He’s supposed to be holding up boom boxes and kissing girls that are like us. Grosse Point Blank is an exception because the government made him do it AND because he kissed a girl that could have been us.
I let my teenager go on a double date to the roller rink. All kids were driven there by parents. All kids were in a public place at all times. All kids were wearing masks at all times. COVID dating simplifies some things for parents.
I have a thousand and one complaints about virtual school. I’m not sharing a single one. Teachers are busting their butts and stuck in the same crappy situation as all the rest of us – but they also have to try and teach with few resources and sketchy leadership. I desperately want my girls to go back to school and learn face to face, and at the same time I am terrified of the risk involved.
I am not going to be one of the first half a million people to get the vaccine. That’s a Stephen King novel just waiting to be written.
Occasionally I’ll get a little brave and venture out, but then I end up spending the next 14 days holding my breath a little. Vacation was great, getting my hair cut and colored was great, getting a pedicure was great…but I’m not sure it’s worth the late night thoughts that bombard my brain or the slight tension that rests in my shoulders the couple of weeks following.
Every time I start to worry about sickness and events outside of my control, I try to remind myself that evidence of miracles walks around my house daily. I snapped this picture of Audrey a couple weeks ago and I keep coming back to it. She’s got a little Wonder Woman stare combined with maybe a Drew Barrymore Firestarter moment. Her expression is so focused. And fierce.
My favorite quarantine purchase is an In Our Prayers display. It’s a visual reminder and a method to communicate who and what is on our hearts. Right now every single one is related to family: blood family, church family, work family.
I am watching too much news. This has resulted in my firm belief that there is no revelation or story or coverage that is going to sway votes for or against Trump at this point. Supporters of his will not believe them. He said it himself years ago and it’s an absolute truth – he could shoot someone on Fifth Avenue and still get votes. The case involving the President and E. Jean Carroll and the Justice Department is the news story that has me the most frustrated right now: DOJ to represent Trump. The president denies knowing his accuser and is being asked to provide a DNA sample as part of the case, which is pretty standard. His DNA, that could prove he’s telling the truth and she’s lying, is the thing he’s trying desperately not to provide. Why aren’t more people asking why is that?
The longer I’m out in the world less and at home more, the less faith I have in humanity. Especially if I spend any time on Facebook or Twitter. I need to get out to see the good in people. Online, it’s too easy to judge solely based on what they copy and paste and share. And yet, I guess that is who they are. It’s all so confusing.
Regardless of what some people might say in rally speeches or tweets, I’m voting Democrat but I am not trying to lock anyone in their homes, fire all police officers, overturn the second amendment, fighting to keep churches closed, or thinking we shouldn’t be allowed to say God in America. I’m just a girl, standing in front of the TV watching a boy, who’s not doing a very good job at his job.
I have peaceably protested. I have never been a participant in looting or destruction (unless you count that time we spray painted the train overpass in college). I think the destruction of property is wrong, it works against trying to get people to see your “side,” and it distracts many from the core issue. And yet at the same time I get why some people are doing it. Sometimes frustration builds and builds and builds over months or years or a lifetime and then it bursts out. Maybe if we didn’t view equality and fair treatment of all people as an issue that has sides, we wouldn’t be dealing with these explosions.
This world lost a pretty great human a week ago. Her name was Alicia. We went to Emory & Henry at the same time and we graduated together. She was fierce and passionate, she had a huge heart and an old soul, and she spoke truth verbally and in writing. She stood up for people regardless of what others would think of her. About a year ago, we were both having “a day” on the same day and I picked up my phone and dialed her number instead of sending a message. I hadn’t heard her actual voice since 1995 but it seemed like no time had passed since the last time. We laughed about old times and current times, we man-hated, and we traded Momma stories. The time talking was the hug I needed, and I hope she felt the same way. I am so thankful I made that call, and I have a feeling she’s looking out for us from that great cloud of witnesses while slyly making mischief and casting some spells by request.
Brave, Anyway 