Brave, Anyway

Tag: love

  • Hell in a Handbasket

    Hell in a Handbasket

    I failed a class in college. Political Science 101. I love all things politics so you’d think I would have earned an A++. But that class started at 8am, in a building at the top of a very large hill, during the very cold winter. I skipped it. A lot. 

    That professor taught me two things:

    1. The phrase hell in a handbasket.

    2. Always read the syllabus.

    His class had an attendance policy, which I didn’t know but I also thought shouldn’t matter because I was smart. Wrong. But I am actually very thankful for the lesson, which I have thought about on dozens of occasions since. That lesson made me better. 

    Hell in a handbasket was a phrase he said often, and at 18 I thought it sounded a little crazy and overdramatic. But now that I’m the age he was when teaching the class I find myself thinking a lot of things are going to hell in a handbasket.

    For instance, there is absolutely no reason to rearrange the TJ Maxx. We go there to wander around until we hear the call of the things that need to be in our home. But when some new manager decides to move whole sections around, shoppers can’t hear items calling them while trying to navigate the new walkway pattern and aisles. 

    Put. It. All. Back.

    But that’s not the real reason I’m annoyed today. This evening I passed a church with a sign out front that said “Everyone Welcome. No Exceptions.” And it made me angry. Why would anyone NOT be welcome? In any church, anywhere?

    Maybe because we’ve been getting some things wrong, like our responsibility to show the world the love of God. To live lives that reflect Christian values, to the best of our ability. To vote for policies and people that reflect Christian values, to their best of their ability.

    So many church-goers give Christians a bad name, with a lot of it boiling down to the refusal to obey God’s call to love your neighbor. So many church-goers give Christians a bad name, we have to put up signs – SIGNS – that show where the people who are marginalized are welcome and safe.

    We have so much repair work to do, and what that sign represents makes me mad.

    Sometimes I feel like half of America has put hope in a man because they desperately want to hold some sort position, at the expense of others. That’s not going to save anyone or make disciples. Sometimes I feel like half of America has put hope in a man simply because, whether or not they realize it, they no longer have hope in their hearts or their churches.

    Either way, it seems like a path to hell in a handbasket.

  • Forward

    Forward

    If you remember anything about Robert Frost from your high school CliffsNotes, it’s likely some version of “the best way out is always through.” Maybe that’s true sometimes, but other times I think the way out may be to go back or even to be still. What I’ve come to believe is more true, particularly in navigating grief, is that the way through is forward.

    Forward.

    One step at a time. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot.

    The morning after my Dad died, I received a very clear message that the timing was on purpose. Tough days were ahead for my girls, and how I behaved would be what they looked to and what they remembered later. I needed to show them how to live and how to grieve – specifically how to do both at the same time.

    In the last 10 weeks, my girls have lost both their grandpas and their Dad. They’ve watched me cry and they’ve watched me laugh. They’ve watched me watch the same old episodes of Criminal Minds repeatedly, they’ve watched me do the crappy paperwork that comes with notifying companies that someone has passed away, and they’ve watched me excitedly buy all the shirts we even remotely liked at the VCU bookstore. They’ve watched me in funeral homes, shopping malls, church, the hospital, prom dress boutiques, long car rides late at night, and even doing my own yard work which they know I hate. They’ve watched me very purposely put time into projects where we could all see the progress and then the completion, and they’ve watched me take steps to plan things we can look forward to later in the summer and year. They have heard me pray for healing, peace, and knowledge of God’s presence in their lives and in the lives of people that I didn’t pray for for a very long time. And I am just not sure it was enough. Or that I showed them good balance in terms of moments of sadness and Easter basket hunting.

    I’ve been thinking a lot in the last few weeks about the word forward and how it relates to grief. What propels us forward, what stops us from moving forward, how best to move forward. Especially when life is unfair, or things are unfinished or unresolved. How will I help the girls move forward? What can I say? What can I do? How can I show them the way?

    I think maybe the key to forward is found in 3 other f words. (None of which is that f word.)

    Forgiveness. Forgive that they left, and believe they didn’t want to. Forgive yourself for relief they are not in pain anymore. Forgive them for old wounds you’ve been hanging on to. Forgive yourself for having mixed feelings about these people you grieve and love. Forgive that they weren’t perfect and forgive that you aren’t perfect.

    When at first I will not listen, God will send a message through Words With Friends. Because I am stubborn.

    Freedom. We must give each other and ourselves freedom to grieve anywhere, freedom to grieve differently, and freedom from any timeline. We must also acknowledge that someone’s death brings them and us freedom, and that’s not something to feel badly about. They are free of all the yuck that comes with living in this realm and we are free to live without them here. The people who really love us, our people, delight in seeing us thrive – whether they exist here on earth or in our great cloud of witnesses.

    Faith. Holding on to your faith can be especially hard in this time but is especially important in this time. People will say things like God needed another angel. They mean well, but they are just wrong. (And if I find out this happened, the fourth F is Fite and I will make it stop.) God does not make people sick and God does not need more angels. You know who God is. It is deeply ingrained in you. HE is deeply ingrained in you. He grieves with you. And He promises in Matthew that those who mourn are blessed and will be comforted. Whenever you question this, and you will, it’s remembering His faithfulness at other times in your lives and in other areas of your lives that will give you peace.

    He knew death here is not forever…He wept because knowing the end of the story doesn’t mean you can’t cry at the sad parts.

    I guess the simple truth – without steps and f words – is that the way forward is on a path of grace. Grace for ourselves, grace for those around us, grace for those who are gone.

  • Dad

    My Dad has had a very big 24 hours. I imagine on his first day in heaven he got to see his Mom, reunite with all the folks in the great cloud of witnesses that cheered him on during his 82 years here, see all the cats and dogs and horses and fish he dearly loved during his time on earth, and he got to experience the pure joy in His presence that we read about in Psalms. And if by chance there is a crew of pranksters in heaven, my Dad has undoubtedly already joined it.

  • 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.