general

Anything that’s not something in particular


7
Aug 11

me?

Many people know that I fill most of the hours of my day in front of various computers.  As a web guy, I spend a lot of time designing, coding, testing, and (once every scattered guilty moment) browsing.  During much of that time, I am subconsciously aware that this path chose me.  While I can say that I actively sought out my current position, the path that led to it was one architected of primarily passive approaches to life.

I’ve often rationalized that my passivity is born out of a “laid-back” attitude.  Even better, it  is from such an abundance of blessings that the universe routinely had thrown at me that I simply chose a card from my hand and played it.

As every good card player knows, though, there are only so many aces that you can pull.  After that, it’s all about the bluff.

I’ve written about this before.  The notion that I had been relying on a passive existence was first introduced to me by a wonderful therapist in my Asheville days.  It was a milestone moment for me.  I will (quite literally) always cite that day as a moment when my life drastically shifted direction.  There was (and perhaps still is) plenty of ground to recover.

One of the struggles continues to revolve around a sense of security in my self : self-confidence, if I’m honest.  Whether it’s volunteering to sing harmonies in a band (something I’ve been doing practically my entire life) or recovering from the disappointment of being rejected for a new position, my “self” suffers a disproportionately large  and long-lasting blow.

Oddly, it’s neither a matter of a fear of failure nor a fear of embarrassment.

I used to think it was a timidness – a “Who me? Put myself out there and do that? I couldn’t do that?”  but I’m no longer convinced that this goes far enough in describing the situation.

Instead, it feels like I have a need to be pursued.  For some strange reason, I seem to ask people to prove to me that I’m at all important to them.  I don’t know where this comes from.

More importantly, this approach doesn’t seem to make that much sense in my adult life.  I wonder if this comes from my background in church communities where you often had to beg and/or plead with people to get them to volunteer.  Now, of course, this seems dysfunctional.  In a thriving community, people readily, willingly, and confidently step up to fill the needs.  In this scenario, you aren’t defined by a functionality that you can provide but by the leadership that you’re able to show – by the personality that you bring to the table.

My communal past (not just my church community past) more resembles the story line in which my friend only calls when a computer needs fixing.  I get frustrated with these “functional friendships” (as I call them) and yet and I give in and fix the computer.  Without fail.  Every time.

It’s not because I’m being pursued – but it provides the illusion of pursuit.  Instead, what is really happening is that my skills are being pursued, my knowledge, some small, compartmentalized component of myself.  Here, my self is the vehicle that delivers the technical knowledge; my personality and being are simply along for the ride.

Now, as I begin to emerge from my cocoon of self-doubt, I’m learning that pursuit requires reciprocation: I’m only going to take so many steps towards you; if you don’t take a step or two in my direction, I’m assuming that you’re not ready, you want nothing to do with me, or you think I’m a creep.

Therefore, consider this an apology.

(To most of you,) I don’t think you’re creeps – and I want to learn more about you, enjoy dinner with you, and help you fix your computer.  It’s just that I’m so used to living my life in such a way that I waited for people and things to come to me that I’m not used to having to step forward myself in return.  It’s the classic, “It’s not you, it’s me.”

And so, to quote, Stuart Smalley:

I’m Good Enough, I’m Smart Enough, and Doggone It, People Like Me!

But, does any of that really matter?


24
May 11

inconsequential

Maybe they ARE already gone.

I don’t want to belabour this rapture fiasco, but maybe it happened it we just absolutely missed it.  Maybe everything happend just as Camping predicted but no one even noticed.

Consider this: Camping said that only two hundred million people were set to be raptured.  That’s less than three percent of the earth’s population.  Some would argue,  ”Hardly even a blip.” in the grand scheme of things.

Maybe these Christians were so holy, so far removed from everyday life, that no body will even miss them.  Maybe they had such little effect on the trajectory of human kind that when Jesus swept them away on Saturday no one even noticed.

I hope that’s not the case.

Maybe the only thing worse than being accused of fundamentalism and intolerance for people who are trying to live like Jesus  is to be proven inconsequential.  If they’re gone and we don’t notice staggering drops in generosity, love, reduction of poverty, and happiness, then what I think God wants and what he must really want are completely off base and it’s just as well that he leaves me behind.

Dear Lord, I hope we don’t let our existence be inconsequential.  And we’ve got to ask.. who are you and I mattering too, right now, right here?  It’s not, if I were gone who would miss me…. it’s who relies on me, loves me, needs me, wants me, serves me, inspires me now, today, on planet earth.


21
May 11

camping out

It’s 9:44pm on Saturday, May 21, 2011.  I’m still here.  Planes are not falling out of the sky.  There was no trumpet blast.  Jesus isn’t riding on a white stallion or waiting in the air to resurrect the dead according to the timezone their buried in.

Judgement day was, yet again, a dud.

Matters of faith are obviously compelling for people.  It can literally alter our behavior, cause us to sit back and consider others before we act, compel us to give generously of our resources.

It can also plunge society into a state of either mass hysteria, or mass mockery of those in hysterics.

As someone who believes that Jesus does give us the best example of how we should be thinking and living and doing, all of the talk about the rapture and judgement day has honestly made me queasy at times over the past few days.  For some reason, we get the idea from reading God’s message of love that the approach to life is to be preaching of a dire doomsday; hellfire and brimstone will rain from the sky and burn our flesh.  Come to Jesus now for your fire insurance.  Come now before it’s too late – before Jeeeeeezus casts you into a churning lake of molten evil.

Over and over and over and over – we miss the point.  Not just those guys like Camping who sit around and crunch numbers in an effort to know the infallible instant of the lord’s returning, but those of us who make life about a collection of individuals deciding either right or wrong, damnation or paradise, heaven or hell.  Over and over we make accusations based on our time-tested, God-inspired interpretation of scripture… even though it’s in opposition to your time-tested, God-inspired interpretation.  Over and over, the message that is presented is that a solitary collection of individuals has it right and are giving you the last-chance-in-a-lifetime opportunity to sign up (and, many times, support) and escape the horrors of life on the wrong side of eternity.

So now that another Christian’s prophecy has crashed and burned in a spectacularly humiliating affair what does that mean for those left behind?

It means we go on, living the kind of life that approximates Jesus gently rather than insists on Jesus forcibly.  It means we continue in generosity and encouragement and grace, without much concern about whether or not we or anyone else are going to be here tomorrow.  It means that love without preconditions is still a better gauge of the state of  your soul than the degree to which you want to leave everyone else behind.

Life is about the joys and sorrows, the messiness, the victories that we experience here – not escaping it all for some mansion in the sky, but making what we have right here, right now better by loving the people we come into contact with.

One day at a time.


15
May 11

less

I had reason to continue thinking about pursuit – something I’ve posted about before.  In particular, I’ve been thinking about what it means to pursue the “abundant life.”  Lots of people talk about it.  Jesus talked about it.  Everyone seems to have a different interpretation of exactly what it means.

I tend to think about it in terms of life as it was meant to be lived.  This assumes a lot of things.  It doesn’t assume that there is a “right” way to live – at least in terms of rules that ought to be followed.  Instead, it assumes that there is a trajectory that we should try to find ourselves on and that we should try to get ourselves on in the event that we find ourselves not on it.  It also assumes that there is a god or some higher power that has outlined this idea.

We often process this idea as achieving prosperity in some combination of realms.  The obvious here is financial prosperity – believing that living on a trajectory towards some right way of living will be rewarded by God with monetary rewards.  But there are others – intellectual prosperity, relational prosperity, prosperity of status or recognition.  There are many others.

Some would also consider the promise of getting to heaven someday as promise of prosperity.

All of these are hard for me to process.

Don’t get me wrong – there’s a very prominent part of my psyche that craves financial riches, fruitful relationships, deep meaning, and even public renown.  I understand the desire for these things.

My problem is that I believe that we all have a grand (even if undefined) purpose and that none of these things really help us fulfill that.  Yes, there are those of us who will do our best to attempt to rationalize that mo’ money means mo’ solutions to the world’s problems.  But how often is this the case?  Only recently have we heard of the mega-rich committing to give away their vast fortunes once they die.  Relationships and status really have no bearing if your heart is not willing to give it all up for something greater.

What is counter-intuitive about this whole process is that the pursuit of the abundant life is actually the most selfless activity that we can undertake – that purpose is most often found when we are ready and willing to move ourselves as much out fo the picture as possible.

Instead, what seems to happen is that we’re willing to speak highly of honoring others first until it becomes uncomfortable , or (more likely) a threat to the riches we have accumulated.

We’re willing to help a family in poverty in whatever ways we can until it begins to strain on our own back accounts.

We’re willing to go out of our way to meet with someone that we’re mentoring until it conflicts with our appointment books.

We’re wiling to welcome those with different beliefs and lifestyles until it starts to threaten our ticket to heaven.

Everything that holds us back from really living is rooted deeply in selfishness.  How ironic that the only thing holding us back from really living are the things that we’re selfishly holding on to?

Our pursuit, then is not about accumulation, knowledge, finances, status, riches, relationships, or notoriety.  Our pursuit is not avoiding sin, or determining right from wrong, gaining heaven over hell – all of these things are rooted in a deep and dangerous self-interest.  Our pursuit is towards less of ourselves.  Less me getting in the way of loving, caring for, honoring another human being with no self-concerned preconditions.

Less of me competing against you for things that don’t matter.

Less of me sabotaging your pursuits.

Less of me.


17
Mar 11

what we’re made of

Luther said that we should read the entire Bible in terms of what drives toward Christ.  Everything has to be interpreted through Christ.  Well, if you do that, you’re going to end up with this religion of grace and forgiveness.  The only people Jesus threatens are the Pharisees.  But everybody else gets pretty generous treatment.  There’s very little Christ, very little Jesus, in these people who are fighting Rob Bell. // Eugene Peterson

What I’ve been struggling with the most over the past few days has been directly related to my sympathy for Rob Bell, author of Love Wins, and accused hell-bound heretic.  I’m not concerned for his soul or mine.  I’m not wishing he would see the error of his ways.  I’m not concerned that he’s leading me straight into hell.

The incredible thing to me is the reaction from christians. Unequivocally, they allege, he is wrong.  Without question.  We have interpreted the true, clear, literal text of the Bible and by the words of Paul, and the actions of Jesus and the power of Greyskull, he is wrong.

I’ve read the verses that talk about judgement at the end of the world.  I get that Jesus said that He, himself, is the way, the truth, and the life.   I know we’ve all sinned and fall short of God’s glory.  I get it, I really do.  But I also read the ones that ask “Who has known the mind of the Lord, or been his counselor?”, the ones that say “As surely as I live, every knee will bow before me.”  I’ve yet to find the ones that say, “Verily, I say unto you, lest ye believe in hellfire as dost I, then ye shall be cast into the flames.”

Many times in the past, I’ve posted here about selfishness and self-centeredness.

I feel like this debate is no different.

It’s offensive to many of us to even think that God would accept someone into heaven that didn’t have to deal with at least some of the same struggles as I do.  If we’re honest, we’re only mildly OK with deathbed confessionals – our religion tells us to be happy because now they’re magically and definitely saved while our minds say why couldn’t I live like him and get in under the wire.  We’re a self-referential people.  Naturally, this is true.  We experience the world as a self.  Everything that we see and hear and touch and know is processed by our self.  When a question comes up we process it by referencing everything else that makes up our self and we come up with an answer.

When an author like Bell comes along and talks about hell in the way that (many of us think, since we haven’t yet read the book) he does, we throw up flags not because we’re against what he’s saying as much as it doesn’t line up with what we have settled in our minds as truth.  This is a psychological reality.  For some, this cognitive dissonance causes deep introspection.  For others, a great exposition as to the reasons the concepts in question are wrong.

We go on the defensive.

Defense, of course, implies that WE HAVE something that is being attacked, something that is of value TO US that is suddenly in danger (for a great discussion on these metaphorical concepts, by the way, read anything by George Lakoff, including this).  There are collections of baggage that come with this and, to be fair, a defensive stance is not always a bad thing.

But it is very much a selfish position.  The unsaid statements are “I am PROTECTING something that I FIND MORE VALUABLE that what is being presented.”

An unselfish response is this:

Rob Bell and anyone else who is baptized is my brother or my sister.  We have different ways of looking at things, but we are all a part of the kingdom of God.  And I don’t think that brothers and sisters in the kingdom of God should fight.  I think that’s bad family manners.

I’m not against there being some truths…. but I believe there are incredibly few of these.  Every things else is commentary.

One last thing…. while you’re waiting for Love Wins to arrive, maybe you’ll want to listen to this.  It’s a sermon by Rob Bell from September 2006.  It’s about hell and probably will give you a good idea of where he’s going with all this.

Listen Here to Rob Bell’s message about Hell (2006)


15
Mar 11

virtualization

This weekend at a youth event, I was asked to give a talk about protecting your spiritual life online.  Unsurprisingly, the first places that my mind went were to the Amsterdam-shaming back alleys of the web – the porn sites that we’ve all heard of and know of and some of us have become addicted to.  Granted, this does not qualify me as über-observant – it’s rampant, dangerous, and personal.

Naturally, I thought through this and into the world of objectification of people/women and how we often remove people’s humanity when it comes to things like pornography and lust.  It’s easy to treat people like inanimate things when we see them as things.  This has been at the center of these discussions for a long, long time.

As I got to thinking a little more about this, though, I realized that there are objects that I value and that have worth to me.  To say that we’re objectifying something doesn’t necessarily mean that we’re removing it’s value.  My computer, for example, is a very valuable object that is very important to me.  It let’s me work and make a living.  It provides entertainment and information.  My life is somehow richer because I have access to it.

Then, it’s not just the objectification of people that is at issue.

I remember playing a game on my phone called “Pocket God.”  It’s not so much a game really as a virtual world where you get to manipulate the environment of a bunch of crazy tropical islanders… and manipulate the islanders themselves.  You can throw them to the sharks, toss them in a volcano, or just poke them with the pointy finger of the god that you’re pretending to be.  When you kill enough of them off, the handy-dandy plus sign in the sky allows you to whimsically create more islanders to torture and/or love toughly.

These islanders are bits.  Simple, invaluable, plentiful bits.  Figures on a screen.

And they have no value.  They are virtual people that most people would say don’t exist or at least cease to exist when the screen is turned off.

It was this that struck me.

The danger to humanity in the internet age is not objectification but virtualization.  Of everything.  We have virtual relationships and virtual friendships.  We are far more willing to rip a virtual friend a new corn chute when we don’t have to look them square in the eyes.  We are far more willing to explore someone else’s body when it’s just a picture on a computer screen that could as easily have been drawn by a computer as photographed in real life.  Crime becomes inconsequential . . . maybe like a white lie, we commit white fraud or white defamation.

I have far more compassion for the friends I see every day (or the ones that I know are real even if I on see evidence of them online) then for the ones that flame my Facebook wall with disagreeing comments.

Sometimes, things matter. Before this gets passed over as overdramatic or an exaggeration, think about the fact that TV changed the way that families relate to each other and how we oriented our lives.  Every advance has had some effect.   Now we’re living in the reality where this generation will not know what it is like to live without the internet, and constant connections, and virtual friends.

So, the challenge is to find a face-to-face, heart-to-heart, relationship with another human being and to lose interest in how high the total of your friends list can go.  I believe that humans are most alive when they’re connected to the universe spiritually and to each other.  Some things weren’t meant to be reduced to bits and bytes.

 

 

 


16
Nov 10

go to hell

I wish the church would just go to hell.

Into the deepest depths of hell, in fact. Not just the surface level, but down into the white hot flames, the most painful, excruciating places.

Where the suffering is intense. Where people come to curse the Lord with as much fervor that could otherwise be mistaken for worship.

Where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth.

Where death is reality. Where darkness rules.

Church: one of the few entities on earth that has a core message potentially worth living and dying for. Light of the world. Salt of the earth. Unconditional love.  That is when it doesn’t get bogged down with selfishness, superiority, or cynicism.

We should be convinced that life is not about acquisition – that living generously is a better way to live. Giving food to the hungry or resourcing the poor is not an obligation or a chore or a bullet point on a job description. Our intended trajectory away from greed and self-centeredness is counter-cultural and inspiring.

Rob Bell, in Velvet Elvis, says that one of the worst things to have happened to the Christian faith is the movement towards heaven and hell being some distant places – separated from our day to day experience.  It leads to us wanting to escape this planet that must be void of God, in this scenario.  Our trajectory becomes about saving our souls from eventual damnations and more about ME spending forever in bliss and satisfaction.

Instead, heaven and hell are present realities.  Eternity started on day one. Hell is right here right now.  It’s the mother who can’t feed her children.  It’s the pain of loss.  It’s disease.  It’s ridicule and bullying and genocide.

You want to get to heaven…. bring it.

Jesus didn’t leave some mystical land to come to our neutral ground to persuade people to be good so they can ride the salvation express to heaven.  He came, himself, and brought heaven with him – by healing and feeding, by turning people’s hearts in a different direction, and by turning water into wine.

I want the church to go to hell, too.  I want people to see the comparison – to consider the alternative.

I want people to understand that heaven isn’t about walking streets of gold and wearing sparkling white robes.

Heaven is about the tears and pain and the bruises that come before restoration.  It’s about hard-core, unabashed love that doesn’t ask questions or require any thing besides your being.  It’s about getting rid of the darkness by shining in s spark of light – not about pointing out how dark hell is.

Heaven is what moves in when hell is pushed out.

But you can’t push hell out of the picture from the sidelines.  You can’t feed hungry people if you don’t go where the hungry people are.  You can’t build relationships by sitting on your couch.

What a hellish perspective then to celebrate “some glad morning” when we all will “fly away.”  For those who think that trying to live like Jesus is the best way to live, it seems counter intuitive that God would have his people fleeing the scene.  Who’s left to advocate for those with no voice?  To feed those with no food?  To visit those with no friends?  To give hope to those who have nothing to look forward to?

So, I’m done with the halo envy.

I’m done with looking forward to my mansion and streets of gold and diamond harp.

If there’s no more hope or love or happiness today than there was yesterday then we’re all missing something.  If we’re living as if this place is doomed, then we’ve screwed up big time.  If you’re not concerned about replacing hell here and now with heaven here and now, then we are diluting the redemptive message that Jesus was supposed to be all about.

Jesus example, if we believe it, says that being concerned that someone’s stomach isn’t full is at least as important as the state of their soul.  It shows that aiming towards emotional maturity is at least as important as aiming towards spiritual maturity.  He tries to convince us tax collectors, and prostitutes aren’t the wrong crowd.

Jesus didn’t seem to think that going to hell was such a bad idea.

In fact, it was probably the most important thing He ever did.


7
Nov 10

community-ish

All around me, people are engaged in pursuits.  Personal ventures.  Journeys. Marathons. Self-discovery.

Truth.

These are the well-known pursuits.  These are the ones that we have come to expect.  The thirty-something has pride on the line as he dons his iPod and prepares for the half-marathon.  It says, “I’ve still got it.”  Somewhere there’s a small-business woman who keeps pushing through levels of exhaustion that would do most of us in to make her business succeed.  It says, “This is what I can accomplish when I stick with it.”  We do our counselors proud when we have a moment of epiphany.  We say, “I’m finding myself.”

We’re deep, spiritual beings, us humans.  Our souls run deep into the existential realm.  We can pursue ourselves for a lifetime, identifying desires and working hard to meet them, analyzing shifts in our passions and aiming our longings at other targets.  Contributing to the notion that the west is incredibly materialistic is this very inward drive. Those scratching the surface in this journey often respond by buying clothes or cars or catamarans.  It’s not hard to understand why much of the world takes this self-centeredness for granted.

At our core, though, I don’t believe that our culture, or any person, is wired to be self-consumed.  I don’t believe that we are designed to be islands unto ourselves, to exist as idealized individuals.

And our rampant materialism proves it.

I would argue that our pursuit of positions and possessions are more an indication of a desire for community than anything else.  Yes, it’s obviously misdirected, but it speaks volumes.  Some will argue otherwise, but I have a strong sense that most luxuries we pursue have much to do with our standing relative to others.  I don’t just mean in terms of comparisons – i.e. Look at my thing; my thing is better than your thing, therefore I’m better than you.

There’s also the desire to fill the role of provider.

We have come to a point in this crazy journey called the “human race” where need and want are nearly synonymous.  Take this completely believable example: Maybe you own a high speed train.  Given that we’ve misconstrued one’s want to ride on a high-speed train with a need to ride on a high-speed train, your offer for me to ride your high-speed train is actually contributing to community.  It may well be driving your self-centeredness and feelings of grandeur through the roof…. I get that.  But we have a notion that the community benefits as well.

You can feel free to replace “high-speed train” with “sailboat,” “awesome sick car,” or “deck with an incredible pool and to-die-for grill.”  It all works the same (except for riding on the grill which could get to be slightly less confortable than the sail boat).

Even in what seems like were being selfish, perhaps we’re being community-ish.

We exist in a culture where the dominant message reinforces a strong sense of self-worth, self-dependance, and self-reward.  It’s impossible not to incorporate some of these concepts into out daily routine and understanding.  But even in the most extreme examples, I argue, that there is an underlying innate sense of community life – dare I say, of communal life.  A world where what I have is (somewhat) yours.

There are plenty of questions to be raised at this point about trust and choice and freedom and liberty and Russia and China.  Even as tribesmen we shared the spoils of the hunt with our tribe while we tried to annihilate other tribes.

I’m simply saying that maybe the fame and fortune and position and possessions that we’re pursuing is not all meant for ourselves.

And if that’s the case, what else can we do for our community?


6
Nov 10

matter

God of the worn and tattered

All of your people matter

Give us more than words to speak

‘Cause we are hearts and arms that reach

And Love climbs up and down the human ladder

There are three new women in my life that I can’t get off of my heart.  They are loving and kind and beautiful.  The story of how our paths first crossed is an interesting one, involving my wife, a school project that she was not looking forward to, and an introduction by a mutual friend from another country.

It’s never been tempting to say that we met by chance.

My friends are actually a happy, loving family: a mother and her two precious daughters.  The mom has endured some pretty tough circumstances, but her heart has remained soft and compassionate.  Her daughters, 3 and 5, are supernova-energy-balls wrapped up in tiny human bodies with cute little human faces.  They are curious and loving.  It is incredible to spend time with them, hearing about what they did that day and what they want to do tomorrow, deciding what kind of cake they want on their birthday and which Disney or NickJr character is currently the focus of their attention (FYI: it’s Dora).

It’s one of those friendships where you have to be strategic about visiting.  Kristy and I have to been keenly aware of what sort of appointments are bookending these visits, because once the conversation gets rolling time morphs and stretches, shrinks and reconfigures until we’ve missed class or are late for work.  Yet somehow it’s still worth it.

To be fair, one of the reasons why we have to watch our time is because time is far less of a concern for this family.  Their days are much more loosely organized.  They get up, and get some breakfast at no set time.  From then on it’s pretty laid back until dinner, and pretty laid back again until some indeterminate bedtime.  There is no job to interfere with their daily plans.  It’s free and easy.

Except, it’s not free and it’s significantly difficult.

You see my friends live in abject poverty, at least by American standards.  Now they’re fighting circumstances, consequences, and systemic shortcomings in a effort to find a better way.  The story of how they got her is heart-breaking and filled with abuse and pain.  What is even more depressing for me as their friend is to have to stand beside them and watch as with every positive step they take some mysterious force deals them another blow.

I know how it is.  Middle-classers can say with relative ease that “They’re just dealing with the consequences of their choices,” or “Let them pull themselves up by their bootstraps… America is land of opportunity.”  Few, if any, of their choices landed them where they are.  Pulling themselves up by their bootstraps is only possible if they could afford to buy boots instead of being forced to wear the same pair of $5 Old Navy flip flops that the mother has owned since the first day we met.

Systems have failed her.  Forms that should have been filed in duplicate were accidentally filed in triplicate at some head office and so this mother went without any sure way of providing food because she was suspected of trying to game the system.  Social workers have advised her to stand in line for three hours at facilities that have never claimed to be able to meet any of her needs.  State child care workers have tried to enforce what can only be described as their own petty preferences instead of prescribed policy.

Yet, this family understand that it’s just another day with another adversity to overcome.

I see her and her situation.  I hear her trying to figure out a way to get winter coats for her kids, and who of her friends can help provide meals for them until her food stamps are reinstated (after being mistakingly cut off).  I see her kids attempting to process what it means for a woman to have a loving husband.

More than this I see her desperately trying to make life better for her kids, finding a way out of her dangerous neighborhood, applying at every business that might hire a woman with less than a high-school education while looking for ways to achieve her GED.  I hear the fear in her voice as she talks about what it could mean when the father of her children gets released from prison.

All this happening in the shadow cast by some meaningless skyscrapers where meaningless finances are traded and bought and sold every day for meaningless profit and meaningless bonuses.

Take away everything that I’ve just described about this family.  The government assistance.  The prison terms.  The questionable practices by social workers.  The lack of food.   The high-school drop-out. The abuse.  The five dollar flip-flops.

Laid bare as a generic mother with two generic children, you and I would have no trouble whatsoever in saying that these people have worth and are deserving of opportunities and some basic necessities.  It’s only as we pile on circumstances that we begin to doubt and question and wonder if she should be left to deal with the bed that she has made.  It’s a sorry state of affairs but I’m glad we keep her all but locked away in public housing where I don’t have to deal with it.

By God, this woman still matters.  She is worn and tattered, but she still matters.

And there are millions like them.  And there are $millions frivolously wasted and metaphorically burned each day simply because it’s mine.  What are we doing?  More appropriately, perhaps, what are we not doing?

Give us more than words to speak

‘Cause we are hearts and arms that reach

And Love climbs up and down the human ladder


12
Oct 10

vulnerable

“I want to expose the wound to as many people as possible because there may be someone who could help the healing” :: Jeremy Current, Watershed Charlotte

There are moments of artistic openness that as a listener you absolutely have to seize, to grab ahold of knowing that you’re likely to learn something incredible. This was made true for me this past Sunday at Watershed when Jeremy Current, a guest vocal artist, began telling some of his story. While exposing some of the wounds that birthed one of his tunes he shared the quote above.

I was absolutely captivated, evidenced by my leaning forward in my chair and widening eyes. What I felt was a combination of a deep connection with this truth and yet an amazement at the succinctness with which he was able to verbalize truths that have taken me 30 years to even acknowledge. There are still chasms to cross before I begin to understand it.

It is not that I was unwilling to be vulnerable for fear of showing weakness. There are not enough über-masculine bones in my body to justify this. Essentially vulnerability required me to be satisfied with being embarrassed about the nature of my wound and required others to be at all interested in my being wounded and needing healing. Neither were realities that I could comprehend.

What I’m learning about vulnerability, though, is that it is provides the fuel for inspiration, transformation, and even revolution. Consider the concept of famous last words. When faced with challenge, defeat, looming destruction it depths of your soul, your heart, your core desires are the things that come out. The most well-known response when staring down the barrel of a gun is: “Please … I have a wife and family.”

These things come from down deep. It’s unfiltered soul-speak without any pretense or filter.

These are the important things.

The “I don’t want to be here anymore” things.

The “I don’t know what to believe” things.

The “I’m sure we can make it if we just have one more chance” things.

And, it is often in the vulnerable moments when we hear ourselves audibly speak the confessions and fears and troubles and questions that have been floating around in our heads that change can take took.  It’s fertile ground.  It’s shaken.  It’s soft and prepared for new things.

Seize those moments when you or someone close to you is being vulnerable.  Drink in the confession.  Let it stimulate your mind and heart. Let it stir your soul.  Let it connect you to another being.

And while you and I may never stare down the barrel of a literal gun, our hearts will break and our souls will be wrenched. We’ll be disappointed in our self.

Our failure.

Failure, though, and disappointment are the critical components for relationship.  Transparency breeds trust.  It is in the togetherness of life that my vulnerabilities and your concerns become our collective strength.