Story Corps Interview

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about my intentions to post the audio file from my brother and my interview through Story Corps.  Well, my dad found a way to post it, so here it is. 


As we enter into this Thanksgiving week, I find myself grateful for many things.  However, one of my continued thanks is that my brother is still with us.  For those unfamiliar with his story, my brother has survived multiple suicide attempts.  In the recording we talk about the night of his first attempt, as well as his experience growing up with depression.  It was an honor to interview my brother and I appreciate the honesty and vulnerability he brought to the table.  I'm so proud of the courage it took for him to speak about suicide and depression.  Please feel free to share our story.

Thank You Hands

Despite having Positivity as one of my Strengths, I am undoubtedly a pessimist and a bit of a skeptic.  So, the glass is half empty and why would it be anything but half empty?  I know this sounds confusing, but if you knew me in person, (I think) it would make sense. 

In my last season of life, I really learned how to express what I was feeling.  Prior to, I tended to stew and bubble.  Some days, I still just like to stew and bubble.  As I’ve gotten to know myself better, I can recognize what hurts me and can use my words to describe why it’s so painful for me.  On the whole, it has been a very freeing experience.  It’s helped break down some of the walls I’ve had in relating with family, friends, and even God.  So, hooray for expressing my feelings (see, there’s the positivity eking out)! 

There are occasions though, when I go into my feelings and I seem to fall into some despair. 

Nothing will ever change.

I’m miserable.

Life always turns out this way.

Especially in the last year when I’ve hit these pockets of despair, I’ve felt God call me to name what I’m grateful for.  It’s always a bit shocking initially.  The call to gratitude causes me to pause and reflect. 

I usually begin with the basics:

I have all my immediate physical needs provided for (house, clothing, food).   There are many in this world who go without one or several of these needs. 

I have a job.  Even just considering those in the U.S., many have lost jobs in the last few years with the economic downturn.

I have a family who loves me.  Again, many people are born into families where they are despised, abused or mistreated.  My family is not perfect, but I know without a doubt that they love me. 

My friends.  It has been a lonely year for me (some of that has been circumstantial), yet I still have many friends who care for me.  At this point, I usually begin to reflect on my close friends and what a gift they have been to me. 

I have so many opportunities afforded me due to the time in which I live.  If I was a woman born even 100 years ago, my options would be incredibly limited.  Marriage, nursing or teaching.  I’m grateful that God has placed me in a time where I have more expansive possibilities.

My God.  When I was content to keep living a “normal” life, God has numerous times stepped in and taken me on journeys I never could have imagined.  I am so grateful that his vision for my life is always larger than my own.

……….

The more I name what I’m grateful for, the more I find I have to be thankful for.  It doesn’t negate the pain I feel, but it gives perspective to the despair.  The pain doesn’t feel as final.  My vision is widened to see both the sadness and the hope.  I come back to a place where I see that God can use both pain and joy as he forms me.

I hate thank you hands.  You know, the motion one makes with her hands together, almost as if she is praying, usually accompanied by a tiny half bow.  Celebrities love to do this when receiving standing ovations.  Or in yoga class, it’s the motion they make when they say “Namaste.” 

Thank you hands makes me want to vomit. 

I suppose, this post is my thank you hands to God.  Except, hopefully, not so trite.  To thank him for hope in the midst of my life and the creative ways in which he leads me.

Christmastime is Here?

If you haven’t figured it out by now, I have opinions.  And I often like to voice said opinions. As we creep closer and closer to Christmas I begin to see my opinions on the celebration of this particular holiday whisper louder and louder in my ear. 

I think we can all agree that Christmas decorations showing up in September and October are ridiculous.  Now that we’ve entered November, we find ourselves in the Christmas zone gray area.  I tend to wait till after Thanksgiving before I officially step into the Christmas season, or when I was going to an Anglican church, Advent.  Lately, the easy listening station has taken to playing Christmas music.  Every time I catch a song, I sigh and quickly change the station.  Seriously?  Let’s not forget Thanksgiving people! 

However, I find that I am not a strict observer when it comes to the post-Thanksgiving day rule.  The last time I backed up my phone I clicked to have all of my Sufjan Stevens music included.  Of course, I forgot that a large chunk of my Sufjan collection comes from his wonderful Christmas albums.  So, I’m driving to work one day when a Sufjan Christmas song comes on.  And I’m conflicted.  True, it is not “Christmas” according to my calculations, but it’s Sufjan and it’s one of my favorite songs (The Friendly Beasts, in case you’re curious).  The song wins and I thoroughly enjoyed singing along. 

“This is it” I told myself.  “One Christmas song and then I’ll hold out for after Thanksgiving.”  That is until Spotify alerted me that they’ve posted an album from a group I really enjoy (The Brilliance).  And it’s titled Advent.  “Darn it!  Well, one listen won’t hurt, but then no more for real!”  

Don’t get me started on Trader Joe’s.  I’ve already purchased my first box of pfeffernusse cookies and candy cane green tea.  I know I won’t be able to wait much longer for candy cane Joe Joe’s.  I’m only flesh and blood. 

The real test though, has been films.  The other night a friend on Facebook announced that he was, unashamedly, giving in and watching “White Christmas”.  I couldn’t help but sympathize with his position.  He was giving in, stepping into full Christmas mode (there’s no going back after “White Christmas”) and announcing it to the world (via Facebook).  Yet the responses back were more kind than judgmental.  People commented with their favorite lines or songs from the classic film.  A slight wave of joy swept over me as I thought back to the film. 

And I wanted to watch it right there and then. 

I decided to wait.  (Even though it is on Netflix instant this very moment).  I suppose I’ll let little things creep in, but the waiting is, in a strange way, part of the fun.  So, for now, Christmastime is not here. 

Yet. 

Time for a Conference Call

I’m an occasional Twitter follower.  Meaning, at times I’ll check my feed frequently, but most of the time I forget about its very existence.  There are few things that draw me to check Twitter more than Most Interesting Pastor (hilarious poster – do yourself a favor and follow him now).  But, I happened to go on Twitter yesterday, to check in.  I came across an article speaking to a recent twitter exchange regarding gender exclusive practices in the Christian Evangelical conference world.  Looking beyond the exchange, the author researched the largest Christian conferences and tallied the breakdown of male to female speakers.  

The stats were, unsurprisingly, grim.: Total speakers: 805 / Female speakers: 159 (19%) *

While it was a disappointing reality, my first response was “why would we expect anything different?”  As a woman who has walked in church world for a while now, this has been my experience more often than not.  A very small percentage of women allowed a more prominent role within the church.  It never ceases to grieve me.  My next response was, “what is going on in the Evangelical world that makes this a reality?”  I mean, it’s not just the conferences.  It is easy to blame a conference and think adding a few women to the panel will make things cool.  The confusion of roles of women within the church continues to be an issue, which in my opinion, has been mishandled time and time again.  Our Christian speakers are just living out dynamics that are being practiced in our churches. 

This is an issue that tends to segregate and kick up explosive responses.  I recognize in myself how tender this topic can be.  I do get angry.  Some of the anger stems from a place of injustice.  Some of the anger, honestly, comes from a place of my own pride.  Often when I’ve seen the discussion come to the table, people jump to extreme, polarizing views.  I’m right and you all over there are a bunch of feminists.  No, I’m right and you are all chauvinists.  So, we either engage in the fight (which to be honest, doesn’t seem to lead anything except hurt feelings) or ignore the issue completely.  However, this tendency to avoid the issue at hand leads to confusion, fear, and deep hurts at a heart level.  Neither of these options seems to be working well. 

I wish there was an easy solution for this messy matter of women’s roles in the church.  There is not.  However, I think there is a place to enter into a conversation, to step beyond fighting and ignorance.  It undoubtedly will take time, although I think we as a church are beginning to stick our toes in the deep end of this complex issue. 

While I don’t have an answer, I do wonder what it looks like to be intentional with how we communicate with women in the church, starting from a young age, and present their callings in life:

How do we paint a broader picture for women in the church? 

How do we convey to them that they can pursue deeper studies theologically? 

Or can speak intelligently about a topic (and not solely “women’s” topics)?

Or that as co-image bearers of God, they have something worthwhile to share with others?

My heart beats fiercely to see women freed to step into more of their true identity - to step out of the narrow confines of what has been defined as "feminine behavior" (I believe femininity can be express in a myriad of ways).

I see it both as a calling to and a calling into.  We call women to more vibrant expressions of their gifts and abilities, while also providing space for them to step into practicing these very gifts in the life of the church.  It sounds so simple when reading it on the page.  Its practice and implementation will be anything but simple. 

This is not opportunity for opportunity’s sake.  This is opportunity for the sake of the gospel.  For the sake of the church.  As men and woman we uniquely reflect God (be that brokenly).  When we quiet our women, we are missing out on a fuller expression of God in the church.  I imagine what a robust church we would have if we welcomed our women to the table.  It may look different church to church, but disagreeing with one church’s interpretation does not mean that we shelve the issue completely.  

But it is a place to step courageously into a conversation. 

……….

Some interesting reads, in regards to the issue of women in the church:

http://www.estheremery.com/2013/11/14/letter-to-a-woman-called-to-leadership/

http://www.christianitytoday.com/women/2013/november/churchs-missing-half.html

*http://jonathanmerritt.religionnews.com/2013/11/13/christian-conferences-sexist-nines-controversy-prompts-reflection/

Victory

I went to my first wedding in a long while last weekend.  It was a lovely ceremony, but as usual, I was on edge when it came time for the reception.  No sooner was I seated then I started to search for my exits.  The tables were tight and I didn’t have a direct route to the restrooms for bouquet toss time.  I was seated with my parents and my mom joked that I could hide under the table.  And let’s be honest, I was seriously considering that as an option if needed. 

I kept waiting and waiting for a sign.  The ubiquitous “Ok, now we need all the single women out there…” or the slightly more welcome “Single Ladies” by Beyonce.  Yet, I kept waiting and it never came.  Was I going crazy?  There was the first dance, toasts, dance with parents, cutting of the cake, the money dance, but still, no bouquet toss.  What’s going on here?

My folks and I headed for the door after the cake (my mom’s a baker, so we always must stay for the cake).  On the way out the groom tapped me on the shoulder and said, “we didn’t do the bouquet toss for your sake.”

I was blown away.  I mean, is that awesome or what?  It felt like a big win for the single community.  I’m never short on an opinion, but to hear someone respond to that opinion was unbelievable.  And not just respond, but agree (to some extent).  It’s moments like this that keep me fighting the good fight for singles everywhere. 

If you’re curious as to my thoughts on the bouquet toss, then I invite you to read a previous post from summer on this very topic.

Huzzah for victory!

StoryCorps

My brother and I had the opportunity to participate with StoryCorps in sharing our story.  StoryCorps is a non-profit organization that is dedicated to recording the stories of ordinary people.  My brother heard that their mobile audio trailer would be in LA and felt ready to share his story of walking through depression.  It was an emotional experience for us both and I'm so glad we were able to share it together.  I'm trying to figure out how to post the audio file and am hoping to get it up soon today.  Thanks for your patience.  

Go?

Some days I really hate being friends with spiritual directors. I mean, I appreciate the deeper conversations about life and relationships and God. But then there are the times when these spiritual director friends ask those good questions. You know, the questions that stop you in your tracks. The questions you don't quite have an answer to. The questions that you suspect point to murky parts of your heart.

The questions that may very well make you drop an f-bomb.

Perhaps you've already guessed that I have had one such conversation recently. I was sharing my disappointment with a situation in life. This situation is painful on its own, but it also echoes heavily from a similar instance in my past. My friend listened and empathized. Then she asked the question:

What is it in you, that is drawn to these situations?  What is your part in this?

Crap. I knew she was right on with her question. I couldn't answer it on the spot, but judging by the way my body immediately tensed up, I knew there was something to that question. Something I sort of didn't want to know. Yet, a tiny sliver of my heart was ready to go there.

So, I returned to the question the next day, just me, God and my gnawing anxiety. It slowly became clear that at the root of this question was my fear. I am drawn to these situations, because I think it will make life easier, less risky. I fear that I won't be enough. So, I bolster myself with others I see as stronger, more capable and more charismatic. I hope that I will ride on their coat tails of success.  In the process, I find myself hidden and unseen.

This place has provided a false sense of safety, but it has also left me disappointed. There's a voice in my heart crying for more. I fear what must be risked to lean into the more I see within me. I keep waiting for someone to come along and unleash it. As I write this, I realize that perhaps it is not for me to wait for a person to recognize what is within me. Hasn't God already seen and known (and created) me? I think I've been waiting for a situation that will provide this neat, succinct platform to the places I believe God is calling me to. However, I don't know if that's how God would have me get there. Maybe now is the time to risk (I mean, that has been a theme for me since summer). Is this the day to step out, trembling with fear, into new terrain?

I'm reminded of a worship song I often used to listen to "If You Say Go."  It’s a simple song, but speaks to the place of obedience, saying yes when God says “go” and saying yes when God says “wait.”  The beautiful turn in the song is the reassurance of God's part:

If You call us to the fire
You will not withdraw Your hand
We'll gaze into the flames and look for you

I think God may be saying "Go."

Lord have mercy.

Fix Me!

I suspect I'll never fully recover.  From anxiety.  From overworking.  All in the name of being seen.  When I was younger, I saw healing as a means to an end. It took years for me to even admit that I needed to be healed. Then, healing was sought out in hopes of (if I'm honest) perfection, or preparation for a life in ministry.  Healing was the answer.

But the words that interrupted this twisted hope came to me one day, sitting in the rickety trailer that was my grad school's department library. Library hardly seems a fitting word for this space. Sure, there were books and tables to read at, but really, it was a piazza (and I can't say the word "piazza" without thinking of Tom Hanks in "You've Got Mail" when he's describing his book store as a meeting place and subsequently is questioned about his use of the term "piazza"). A place to meet and talk. Many real, honest conversations took place in that trailer. Its walls contain the tears, roaring laughter, and "strong language" that characterized our time as students.

I didn't know Johnie well. He was a couple of years ahead of me, but that day we entered into a light conversation. It eventually took a deeper turn, as conversations often did in that library. I spoke of what brought me to this program in particular, and my hopes of healing so that I could go into college ministry. He nodded slowly and responded:

I used to feel that way, but lately I've realized that I'll always be in need of God's healing. I'll never arrive at a place where I don't need him.

As the truth of his words exploded in my heart, I realized how much I'd just wanted to be fixed and be able to move on.

But being fixed isn't really the goal, is it? Well, it's not God's goal, but so often becomes our own, right? I mean, there is absolutely redemption on this side of life. God is growing me more into his likeness, breath by breath. Yet, whether or not I'm anxious (or angry, or short with others, or falsely believing that I am Wonder Woman), I am still invited into life with God. Which begs the question, do I want God or do I want him just for the goodies? If I'm honest, most days I just want the goodies. Some days though, I want him more. And that's hopeful.