Loving the Lost and Lonely

One week ago today we began a new journey.  We drove the 1200+ mile round trip to Mississippi and back to bring home Mama, my husband's 72-year-old mother.  She has lived most of her life in the same house, in the same small town, yet was terribly, tragically alone.  No family.  No friends.  No one to go out of their way to visit.  There are many reasons for her aloneness in a place where her face is familiar to most.  She has alienated anyone who has tried to befriend her and has refused our visits for most of the past 4 years, locked away inside a confused, terrifying state of delusion.  She has spent her life a revolving door, in and out of relationships, in and out of mental hospitals and in and out of reality.  Yet later in life she spent 14 years caring for her own aging mother, devoted to meeting her every need.   After Nanny died, things went downhill quickly.  The loss of a beloved pet and the death of the only neighbor who kept in touch left her with too many days, hours and minutes to drift into an obsessive, ruminating fog.  I don't say these things in a critical way, it is simply the reality of this situation we find ourselves in.

So this morning she sits at the kitchen table, just as she does most days, quietly staring out the back window and doing puzzles. Over the past few days the compulsive talking, the telling and retelling of stories filled with paranoia, anxiety and the list of wrongs perpetrated on her over the past 30+ years has finally quieted down.  She is still having sleepless nights but seems more content. 

Being that alone, no matter what the cause, cannot be good for anyone.  To see familiar faces in the community that turn away, to spend days on days in a home where there are no other voices, no visitors and only memories of abuse and dysfunction would be an unthinkable way to live the last years of one's life.

I can't help but wonder how many others there are like her.  The rejected ones.  The ones who for whatever reason are the undesireable ones.  The ones who have been sent to the far reaches of loved ones' minds and forgotten.  I only know that there is this one, this mother.  And she is here.  I want so much to demonstrate the kind of love and devotion shown by Ruth to Naomi, to show the kind of compassion and grace that Jesus did.  I am weak - we both are merely human.  I know it will be difficult.  I know there will be many challenges.  But I also know that we are not alone in this. 

Nothing comes into our lives that is not filtered through the hands of a Loving Father.  God does not call us to something without giving us what we need to carry it out.  So I am keeping my eyes and my heart fixed on him.  We are praying the confusing fog will clear and the tortured memories will fade. We are praying that peace will come for all of us. 

 ~~~

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.  James 1:27 (NIV)

Anyone who sets himself up as “religious” by talking a good game is self-deceived. This kind of religion is hot air and only hot air. Real religion, the kind that passes muster before God the Father, is this: Reach out to the homeless and loveless in their plight, and guard against corruption from the godless world.  James 1:27 (The Message)

Personal Sacrifice

A friend of mine shared this the other evening and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it.  I wanted to post it here to share and for safekeeping so I can come back and reflect on it again and again.

in the first centuries
of christianity
the hungry we fed
at a personal sacrifice,
the naked were clothed
at a personal sacrifice,
the homeless were sheltered
at a personal sacrifice.
and because the poor
were fed, clothed and sheltered
at a personal sacrifice,
the pagans used to say
about the christians,
“see how they love each other.”
in our own day
the poor are no longer
fed, clothed and sheltered
at a personal sacrifice
but at the expense of the taxpayers.
and because the poor
are no longer
fed, clothed and sheltered
at a personal sacrifice,
the pagans say about the
christians,
“see how they pass the buck.”

- peter maurin

Still learning...

There was a very disheveled homeless guy sitting at the entrance to the church last Sunday. Did you see him? He was sitting on the corner of the street at the driveway that goes into the church parking lot, holding a sign that said, "Disabled Veteran. Will work for food." We passed him as we drove in, his hair was red and his eyes a remarkable blue that stood out from the darkly colored, perhaps even a bit dirty clothing he was wearing, a hole in his pants at the knee and I think an old ragged Army jacket.

I have been an advocate for the homeless. I've volunteered many times at an outreach center, more of a hospitality house in Northeast Kansas City. I've collected supplies, helped serve these folks meals, assisted in finding the appropriate sized clothing for them, have even cleaned showers and toilets so the next person can have a clean bathroom. But seeing this fellow sitting on the drive to the church just struck me as being out of place, something about it was a bit odd and it invoked cynicism in my heart. I believe I even remarked out loud to my husband, "Well that's a convenient place to set up shop on a Sunday morning."

We walked into our warm church (it was a breezy cold day) and were greeted by friends and church family even more warmly. I made a cup of tea and didn't give the homeless guy another thought as I settled into my seat and waited for the worship team to begin to lead us. Once the music started, I was swept up in all that I had to be grateful for. It was the Thanksgiving season after all. I sang with passion and praise for my Heavenly Father who has blessed me well.

But then my thoughts took another turn as I stood there clapping along. What about the man outside in the cold? The one who served out country and is now disabled. The one whose cardboard sign did not ask for a handout but for an opportunity to provide for himself and perhaps even a family. Was he any less deserving of God's goodness and provision. I bowed my head and guilt covered my face. I remembered the verse about leaving the altar before presenting your offering if you have anything you are holding against another person. Was I holding this unfortunate soul in judgment for crimes he may not even be guilty of?

When the music stopped, the children were dismissed and we were directed to greet one another. Instead of the usual good morning, happy Sunday hugs, I headed for the church doors to see if I could find this man to invite him in. But to my shame, he was no longer there. I felt awful.

I sat back down in my seat as our pastor began to speak. I can't even tell you what the message was that day because my thoughts were elsewhere. I thought about how I might have better responded to the man's plea for assistance. I could have stopped and asked him in, offered him a cup of coffee and a snack. I could have talked to him about his life and his needs and maybe shared those needs with our church who has always been quick to respond generously when a need is made known. It was communion Sunday so before I could go forward to receive my Lord, I needed to ask for forgiveness and I did. "Father forgive me for being so caught up in my own agenda and life that I overlooked this gentleman with the kind face and piercing eyes who maybe needed a touch from you today." I went forward, received and sat back in my seat, head bowed.

Then something amazing happened. I looked up and there he was. This raggedy, blessed man was standing in line to receive communion. Hallelujah! Someone else in our church had invited him in and apparently the man was a believer! I love my church family and was feeling blessed (and ashamed) to know that where I had failed, someone else had stood in the gap and invited him in. Tears filled my eyes as I determined that I would go speak to him as soon as the service was over. I was convicted that I owed this brother in Christ an apology.

I stood and turned to walk toward the area at the back where everyone gathers before and after services to visit. I spied him immediately, he was quite tall. He and another member of our congregation were engaged in quite an enjoyable conversation it seemed and their laughter struck me as odd. As I got closer to them it became more and more apparent that they knew one another. I waited for an opportunity to speak and when the time came all I could say was, "It wasn't real, was it?" It was then when he introduced himself to me as "Chris." He is the son and brother of members of our church. The story was that our Youth Minister had set the scene up as a test to the teenagers of the church to see how they would respond. It was a test and I had failed miserably. The truth is that Chris was indeed a Veteran and he indeed was disabled, so his sign conveyed no mistruths. He thankfully was not homeless but I apologized to him nonetheless.

It was a lesson learned, a lesson of humility and a lesson of grace. Humility knowing that even though I profess to be an advocate for those who are struggling, I am not perfect and my casting judgment can still get in the way of serving them and God. Grace in knowing that there will be many other opportunities in my life to get it right.

Thank you, Father, for this lesson today.

Life Interrupted

"A life interrupted is an inspired life." Not sure who that particular quote is from but it is interesting.

Oh, how about this one: "If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans." Woody Allen said that.

That's probably more fitting with what happens in my life. I make plans. God laughs. Not because he doesn't want me to make plans. We should make life plans and goals. The trick is not holding onto those plans so tightly that we miss what God has for us. When we hold on too tightly to having our own way about things, that is when life gets really tough. Kinda like a spoiled child having a temper tantrum. The loving Father says, "My child, this is what is best for you." The Child says, "But I wanna do it MY way!"

So, I've been wandering around in the wilderness for a while. That place is dark! Full of chaos and drama and sickness! Don't want to go there again, at least not for a long, long while.

LIFE: There will be interruptions. We are to trust. We are not to rush after the things we have planned for ourselves. We are to keep a quiet heart and attend to the work that has been put before us, whatever the interruption is. Time will be made to attend to our planned work.


"Be still. And know that I am God."

Procrastination

I listened to a podcast online recently about procrastination, a topic I am personally very familiar with. The speaker had a couple of guests on his show that had differing viewpoints of the various causes for procrastination.

One guest said it is a character flaw. A weakness of the will. That folks (like me) who procrastinated did so because they opted for instant gratification (say playing online computer games) rather than working on a project (say setting up an Etsy shop to sell art) even though the project completed would bring much greater rewards.

Another guest suggested that procrastination was related to perfectionism. Perfectionists often have the attitude that if a thing cannot be done perfectly or if they doubt their ability to perform perfectly, they opt not to do it at all. An all or nothing mentality. Or perhaps it is the perfectionist's fear of failure or performing sub par that keeps them procrastinating.

Another view from a caller was really interesting to me. This gal suffered from a generalized anxiety disorder and described facing a task or project that she was procrastinating on was like a game of rock, paper, scissors. The anxiety over beginning was great enough to keep her from performing. But when the anxiety over the consequences of NOT doing whatever the task was became greater than the anxiety to begin, then she proceeded full speed ahead and felt she often performed better under that pressure.

I don't know which of these theories is the "truth." My truth is, I can see myself in all three. And I know procrastination has cost me. It has cost me opportunities, money, accomplishment, and joy.

Several things have fallen into my lap recently...NOT coincidence I have learned. A conversation with a good friend, a Bible study, a couple of quotes arriving via email over the course of a few days have spoken to me and have encouraged me to begin what has been my heart's desire for the past couple of years.

On the sidebar you will find a link to my Etsy shop. I've listed several of my art pieces and have several more to list as well as some other vintage/artsy stuff. I'm going to make a commitment to work on this "business" side of art over the next few months and see where it takes me.

Words of encouragement welcome. ;~)

~~~

"You must take action now that will move you toward your goals. Develop a sense of urgency in your life." Les Brown

"To speed your success, twice a day form a clear mental picture for two minutes of the one thing you want; and tell yourself it's already yours. Imagine it is." Author unknown

One Thousand Gifts

What does it mean to be poor?

Isn't this what you saw in your mind's eye, or something like it?

Or maybe this?

Or even this?

When we think of the poor, we think of those who are without: without homes, without clothing, without food, without money. Without all the material things that most of us have an abundance of and take for granted.

If you ever have the opportunity, spend some time among them: in Mexico, on the Navajo reservation, in Haiti, in Kansas City or whatever city you live in. You don't have to go far. Reach out. Share a meal. Talk to them. Take the risk. Get to know them. You may go in thinking you have something to give to them.

But the truth is, they have something extraordinary to give to you.

They will show you that being "poor" means relying on God for every need, every day. It means to be watchful for God's provision, knowing that everything that comes into your life, every need met, has been delivered from His hands. It means giving thanks for every. small. gift.

~~~~~

I believe, WE are the poor. Our lives are so busy with work and family, little league and dance class, committee meetings and ministry. We are always in a hurry to get from here to there. We miss so much. We miss every small gift that comes from God's hand. Yet we are not satisfied. We are not content. We think there is never enough. Not enough space, not enough money, not enough stuff, not enough time. WE are the poor.

So here is my dare to you:

Begin a list of the things you love, a list of the things you have to be thankful for. Open your eyes and heart to the little gifts from God that are hidden among the deadlines and the dishes. When you see them, write them down. Nothing is too large or frivolous. Nothing is to small and insignificant. Because it all comes from Our Father who loves us and knows how to give good gifts. Begin thanking Him in all things, naming them one by one, until you get to One Thousand Gifts.

It will change you. And when it does, I'd love to hear back from you about your journey into thanksgiving.

Love the Questions

I was sitting in my therapist’s office trying to remember this Rilke quote and all I could remember was “love the questions.” I’ll look up the full quote as soon as my internet is back up and running and include it in this post but for now, I really want to focus on loving the questions.

I’ve been someone’s wife or mother since I was 17 years old. Now I am no longer wearing a wedding ring and my youngest flew the nest 3 years ago. For the first time in my life, I am living alone and I’m trying to figure out what this should look like for me, my life without being defined by roles and expectations of others. Sometimes, I can catch a glimpse of the opportunities for growth this will mean for me. But more often, at least right now, I find myself stuck in the muck of emotions. There is too much quiet and time to dwell on the fear and loneliness. I was reminded today this is grief -- the sadness, the bargaining and the anger. The loneliness can be overwhelming and you feel like it will never be any different. But these feelings will eventually give way to acceptance and hope.

I’m so impatient with myself, wanting to figure it all out, map my course, to know where my life is heading. I SHOULD know the answers, shouldn’t I? But how would I know? I’ve never done this before. I need time to sit the doubt, to embrace the loneliness, to find peace in the acceptance.

I likened it to sitting through winter. Many see winter as a time of death, barrenness, darkness, and cold. But that is only a temporary state and doesn’t really speak to the truth of what is happening in nature at all. The truth is, much of what we think of as life goes dormant in the winter. It’s a season of rest and quiet; a time of gathering nourishment and regeneration. It’s a period of preparation for the Spring that will inevitably come.

So I am in a season of winter in my life. I don’t have the answers and that’s okay. I don’t really know when the spring will come bursting with new life and the wonder that goes along with that, but I know the spring WILL come.

So for now, I will learn to do as Rilke advises in his Letter to a Young Poet:

Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.

Peace~

Just Breathe

Living with chronic anxiety, some days I literally have to remind myself to breathe. I've caught myself holding my breath and being tense a lot over the past few weeks between the personal struggles I'm having and the holidays. I'm so happy this year is ending. A year ending means a new one beginning. It's not that each day doesn't represent a new beginning in and of itself, but there can be something significant in marking the end of a year, especially one that has been a struggle. I'm not one for making New Year's resolutions, but I do find myself being more contemplative and reflective this time of year and have been known to set a few goals.

Breathe.

So this week, I have today to work, tomorrow 6 hours and then I'm off work the rest of the week. I'm going to spend a large bit of that time off rearranging a few things here at home, more importantly moving my work desk to a basement office and full dedicating the room I'm presently in to my art endeavors. If I make any goals for myself this new year, it's going to be the goal of digging down and paving a way to getting all those creative ideas and urges out on paper, on canvas, in other artsy things I've had on the back burner for so long. This next year in my life will be dedicated to (finally) establishing myself as an artist and getting my feet wet in the art community here in the KC area.

Breathe.

Another common practice I've noticed in the online creative community is choosing a word, Just One Word, that will be your focus word for the coming year. I've actually done this but my word ~peace~ kind of stuck with me for about 3 years. I think it's time for a new word and I have a few swimming among my thoughts. Perhaps before week is out, one will surface that I can be intentional about .

Breathe.

What do you think?

Beautiful Mess

I found this song recently and keep listening and reading through the lyrics. It so resonates with where I am in life at this time, in this place.
I need to preserve it here so I can be reminded of the beautiful mess that's inside.

It's inside all of us, you know. The beautiful mess of creativity, the desire to create whether with words or paints or music. Or maybe it's just the creating or recreating of your life. It's there inside you, a beautiful mess.

We need to make ourselves dig down deep, deeper than ever before and give it birth,
so we can share that beauty with the world.

Listen, read, let the words sink in.

Far far, there's this little girl
she was praying for something to happen to her
everyday she writes words and more words
just to spit out the thoughts that keep floating inside
and she's strong when the dreams come cos' they
take her, cover her, they are all over
the reality looks far now, but don't go

How can you stay outside?
there's a beautiful mess inside
how can you stay outside?
there's a beautiful mess inside
oh oh oh oh

Far far, there's this little girl
she was praying for something good to happen to her
from time to time there are colors and shapes
dazzling her eyes, tickling her hands
they invent her a new world with
oil skies and aquarelle rivers
but don't you run away already
please don't go oh oh

How can you stay outside?
there's a beautiful mess inside
how can you stay outside?
there's a beautiful mess inside

Take a deep breath and dive
there's a beautiful mess inside
how can you stay outside?
There's a beautiful mess
beautiful mess inside
Oh beautiful, beautiful

Far far there's this little girl
she was praying for something big to happen to her
every night she hears beautiful strange music
it's everywhere there's nowhere to hide
but if it fades she begs"oh lord don't take it from me, don't take it"

She says, "I guess I'll have to give it birth
to give it birth
I guess, I guess I have to give it birth
I guess I have to, have to give it birth
there's a beautiful mess inside and it's everywhere

Just look at yourself now deep inside
deeper than you ever dared
deeper than you ever dared
there's a beautiful mess inside
beautiful mess inside

Walking in Grace

When I walked out the door this morning for my 5 mile walk, it was 30 degrees. By the time I got back 2 hours later, it had warmed up to 34 and I was actually sweating. No heavy clothing. Just tights under my usual lightweight jogging pants, long sleeve T-shirt and a fleece hoodie. I started out with gloves but had to take them and the stocking hat off after a while.

I love my walks: neighborhood sidewalks to the park, asphalt walking trail around a couple of ball diamonds, woodchip trail through the woods and along a creek, another rocky trail that requires a little climbing, and then through the neighborhoods back home. Just enough variety to keep me from being bored and to give me a good workout.

I needed this walk today. I've been feeling under the weather lately, both physically and emotionally. So much to think about lately, weighing options, wrestling with emotions, considering consequences of every course of action. Fighting the temptation to hibernate and sleep takes all my energy.

So on this walk today, as I entered the woods, I determined to slow down a bit, take in my surroundings and pray. I asked God to give me a deer. I often ask for deer when I walk through the woods and He often provides because I think He knows how much that makes my heart smile. But there were no deer today. Instead, as I was following the part of the trail that runs alongside the creek, I stopped and peeked through the trees and saw this:





I had to climb down over a few rocks and found a perfect place to sit and just take it in. The water has begun to freeze as it spills over the flat rock slabs, as has the top layer of the pool of water below. But you could still hear the water tinkling down and the way the light was playing off the icy water was mesmerizing. I sat and listened and watched a small school of fish swimming below the ice. I prayed and meditated and listened for a good 20 minutes before the ache in my backside told me it was time to pry myself off the cold rock I was sitting on. But even with that cold ache, I felt lighter somehow, like a weight had been lifted.

I'm feeling very grateful for these tiny gifts. These times when God reaches down and gently touches my life, knowing just what I need at just the right moment. It isn't always what I ask for or in the way I expect, but if I slow down and pay attention, listening, asking for His presence, He is always there, as if He has been waiting for me all along.

These are sacred moments, these times. They are Visions of Grace.

I am here

Where are you?(link)

My Life

Watching the movie, Eat, Pray, Love and heard these words, so profoundly fitting with who I am, I had to find them and post them here so I don't forget. And ponder whether this is the woman I truly want to be:

"...I disappear into the person I love. I am the permeable membrane. If I love you, you can have my everything. You can have my time, my devotion, my ass, my money, my family, my dog, my dog's money, my dog's time--everything. If I love you, I will carry for you all your pain, I will assume for you all your debts (in every definition of the word), I will protect you from your own insecurity, I will project upon you all sorts of good qualities that you have never actually cultivated in yourself and I will buy Christmas presents for your entire family. I will give you the sun and the rain, and if they are not available, I will give you a sun check and a rain check. I will give you all this and more, until I get so exhausted and depleted that the only way I can recover my energy is by becoming infatuated with someone else."

"I have a history of making decisions very quickly about men. I have always fallen in love fast and without measuring risks. I have a tendency not only to see the best in everyone, but to assume that everyone is emotionally capable of reaching his highest potential. I have fallen in love more times than I care to count with the highest potential of a man, rather than with the man himself, and then I have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes far too long) waiting for the man to ascend to his own greatness. Many times in romance I have been a victim of my own optimism."

From Eat, Pray, Love

Motivation...

I haven't had the motivation to do much of anything lately. In fact there have been more than a couple of days in the past week that I stayed in my PJs all day. Today looked as if it was going to be another one of those days where the hours passed, minute by minute with me doing absolutely nothing.

Then my sweet daughter called, knowing how I'd been feeling lately, and told me to be ready to go in 20 minutes. I reluctantly obeyed for I have learned not to argue with my headstrong child.

We went to Aiden and Kolbe's brief "graduation" ceremony (preschool) and they were thrilled to have an audience. Then Kelley and I ducked out alone and had lunch at Panara, a favorite for both of us.

It has been such a joy these past few months to experience this new friendship with my oldest daughter. She and I have pretty much always gotten along well but lately I've been challenging myself to be more open and honest with her about my life and it has brought us closer than ever before. I feel like I can talk to her woman to woman and trust her with my confidences. She is a remarkable young woman and a very conscientious, loving mother. And I'm very proud of her.

After lunch, I came home and was so tempted to just lay down and take a nap. But I had promised my daughter I would get out and walk today, something I haven't found the energy for in a couple of weeks. I procrastinated as long as I could but finally managed to get out the door around 4:30. I knew it was going to be dark before I got home. It usually takes about an hour and 40 minute for me to complete my 5 mile route.

One leg of my route takes me on a trail through the woods. I was a little apprehensive about it because by the time I reached the trail, the sun had set and darkness was coming, especially with the remaining light of the day being shielded by all the trees. But I pressed on and completed my usual walk. It was quiet and seemed even more so with the darkness.

But the most wonderful part of the walk was near the beginning as I reached the peak of my walk, the highest point, and I saw this spectacular sunset. The photo doesn't do justice, taken with my phone, but it was wonderful. I stood in awe for several minutes before continuing on.

*taken with my phone camera*

This small gift is enough motivation for me to begin again.

~peace~

Going Under

Ever feel like you're just going to drown? Various happenings over the past couple of months have left me feeling weak and vulnerable, my heart bruised, raw and exposed.

I'm fighting the temptation to begin building walls.

I know that isn't a good place for me to live.

So as I made a trip into the city this morning, I drove by the house I grew up in, a place where I always felt safe. I visited the cemetery where my parents are buried and sat in the grass by their grave markers, trying to remember what it felt like to be a young girl who had parents to kiss all the hurts away and arms to hold me when I was feeling scared.

I miss that today.