Same Love

As I have grown older and hopefully more mature, I have changed my positions on many topics, ranging from child care to GMO’s to other, more pressing socio-political issues. I am almost ashamed to admit I had a different perspective on some topics in years past, because of how my previous views might be perceived.

 

While I had supported the notion of civil unions, I didn’t think much about their impact on how the world turned. It was an easy going, laissez faire attitude. Then it smacked me in the face. I won’t get into details, but several gay couples I was acquainted with had to face life or death issues, and it changed my view on gay marriage:

 

Despite being estranged from family for decades, the legal next of kin was a sibling who disapproved of their lifestyle. That is who was notified by the hospital that their partner was dying.

 

A couple, together for over three decades, had to spend thousands to make sure their partner was taken care of after their death, because they were unmarried.

 

A family, fighting to stay together, because the parent on record had died, and the remaining partner had no legal right to the child they raised together. There was the very real possibility of that little one being placed in the foster care system, since parents were unmarried.

 

Families are not a political issue.

Love is not a political issue.

 

I was taught as a Christian to love my neighbor as myself. It doesn’t offer a caveat if they dressed a certain way, drove a particular car, were handsome/pretty or whatever. Over and over, the Bible preaches that love rules. Yet, there is so much hatred, vitriol and division.

 

Last year, the Episcopal Church held their General Convention in Indianapolis. During it, a same sex marriage rite was approved. After the news filtered out, the church quickly divided into two camps-those opposed and those against. The ugliness and hateful words that occurred after Bishop Gene Robinson was elected came back, in spades. I, for one, was disgusted by the lack of response from both the presiding bishop as well as church hierarchy. I wanted someone-anyone-in the church to say something that would help heal the rift.

 

The silence was deafening.

 

The two denominations I have consistently worshipped in over the course of my teenage and adult life have both been “gay friendly” (the Unitarian Universalist and the Episcopal Churches, for those keeping score). The fact that a caveat has to be used upsets me. I don’t feel churches have to identify that they are women friendly or straight friendly or autism friendly to put seats in the pews. It’s purely the Holy Spirit that I would find myself aligned with denominations that put respect for all humans, no exceptions, as part of their mission. When we respect others and look beyond the barriers between us, we are living Jesus’ mission.

 

Let love rule.

Jesus Christ is Risen Today

I know, Easter was last weekend. I've been on a bit of a blogging break due to my mom's illness and recovery, the Princess moving back to South Dakota and the Big Man crisscross applesauce the country to make it happen. My mother was hospitalized the Saturday before Ash Wednesday. she moved from the hospital to a nursing home for rehab on Ash Wednesday. My sister arrived the week before Lazarus Sunday. Lent was a blur, rather than a holy journey. My desert this year was a very different, unintended one.
However, as the hope of resurrection on Easter, my life is slowly returning to normal.

We met a donkey on Palm Sunday.
We raised and waved palm branches and cried out hosanna.
We went on egg hunts.
We dyed eggs.
We decorated peeps.
We celebrated the resurrection, which meant so much more this year.

Cool

A few of my friends went to see Soulcrate & Macklemore in concert last night. It apparently was THE hottest ticket in town. (You can check out pictures here http://www.argusleader.com/apps/pbcs.dll/gallery?Avis=DF&Dato=20130405&Kategori=NEWS&Lopenr=405006&Ref=PH&nclick_check=1) I, instead, wound up curled up on the couch watching the inside of my eyelids. I've realized, that at least in this case, I'm no longer "cool".

Not like that's a bad thing.

I'm a 40 something mom. I work. I manage a home, and take care of my family. Being cool doesn't really fit into the plan most of the time.

I do have cool experiences & moments every now and zen. I have days when I look awesome. But that's not what's important anymore.

My first and foremost focus is my family and my faith.

It's a struggle to keep all the balls up in the air that I'm juggling.

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.
Romans 12:2

I try to not get caught up in the whole patty perfect worldview. It's very easy to base your self worth on what others think of yourself. Being a wife and mom is not always valued by society (even though it should be), and it's sometimes hard to stick to your guns about it. I'm not a big fan of media portraying families as being sarcastic and sniping to each other (Everybody Loves Raymond is a perfect example), because that's what gets modeled. I'm never going to look like a Victoria's Secret model, because that's not how God made me. I'm not going to change my core values because they are at odds with popular culture, either.

Guess that means I'm not cool.

Bring the Rain

Psalm 30[a]

A psalm. A song. For the dedication of the temple.[b] Of David.

1 I will exalt you, Lord,
for you lifted me out of the depths
and did not let my enemies gloat over me.
2 Lord my God, I called to you for help,
and you healed me.
3 You, Lord, brought me up from the realm of the dead;
you spared me from going down to the pit.

4 Sing the praises of the Lord, you his faithful people;
praise his holy name.
5 For his anger lasts only a moment,
but his favor lasts a lifetime;
weeping may stay for the night,
but rejoicing comes in the morning.

6 When I felt secure, I said,
“I will never be shaken.”
7 Lord, when you favored me,
you made my royal mountain[c] stand firm;
but when you hid your face,
I was dismayed.

8 To you, Lord, I called;
to the Lord I cried for mercy:
9 “What is gained if I am silenced,
if I go down to the pit?
Will the dust praise you?
Will it proclaim your faithfulness?
10 Hear, Lord, and be merciful to me;
Lord, be my help.”

11 You turned my wailing into dancing;
you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,
12 that my heart may sing your praises and not be silent.
Lord my God, I will praise you forever

In the last two or so weeks, my whole life has turned itself upside down. Its been a struggle to get motivated to do anything due to the stress I have been feeling. I have been surrounded by negative people, who like the Greek choruses, are whispering in my ear all the things I do wrong and nothing about what I do right. I was shocked at the fact I am currently weighing the most ever, despite attempts to work out and eat healthy. My son has pink eye. My mother fell, wound up hospitalized and is now doing inpatient rehab to rebuild her strength. My house and family are obviously being neglected, not by choice, but happenstance. Something HAD to give.
Despite all the ugliness I have been facing, I have tried to look at the positives. If anything all the stress and suffering I have been enduring has made me put things in perspective. What are my priorities? What brings me joy? I have discovered who my friends are, and some of them were not who I would have thought were. Friends brought me coffee when I was at my mother’s bedside, because I complained about the lack of the good stuff on her floor. Another friend brought me breakfast. Meals were given. Child care offered. Others just listened as I poured my heart out. Many, many prayers raised up.
My faith was shaken to its very core, and I had to do a lot of soul searching. It caused me to make a prayer smash book, which is a form of journaling. I felt abandoned. I was in that figurative pit. I was living Psalm 30, whether I wanted to or not. The question was-do I let my circumstances make me bitter or better? I know that these situations are temporary. I know that my God is greater than all of this. My pit is temporary. If God brought me to it, He will certainly bring me through it. Like the psalmist, I was weeping in the night. Overwhelmed, broken, in need of healing desperately mind, body, and soul I cried out. I walked around in my sackcloth, flogging myself. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.
Despite my current situation, I know that there are greater things to come. Realizing that I needed to make changes in my life, these mini-crises have allowed me to reflect on what I want and what I am willing to do to get it. My walk with God has taken on a new perspective. I am reading Scripture with different eyes. I am looking for the good in everything, like the yin and yang. No matter how difficult things are, there is something positive in it. It has caused me re-examine my eating and exercise habits. I am changing things up both in the gym and the kitchen. I am slowly deleting people from my life who bring me down. Negativity does nothing to build you up, it only destroys you. There’s a meme with a cat strutting, inscribed “haters are going to hate”. I can’t change peoples’ opinions of me. I am confident in who I am, so I can’t let their poor attitudes affect mine. I want to be clothed in joy, have beauty traded for ashes.

Jesus, Messiah

For to us a child is born,

to us a son is given;

and the government shall be upon his shoulder,

and his name shall be called

Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,

Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:6 ESV) The words from Isaiah are a great comfort this holiday season. Instead of a season filled with peace and joy, it has been filled with vitriol, anger and unspeakable tragedy. From doomsday having been predicted to the horror of Newton, we need the comforting promise that we too will be delivered. I know I have been shaken to my core since Sandy devastated the Jersey shore. It's hard to fathom a loving God would allow these horrible events to occur. However my faith allows for God to work in mysterious ways to counteract evil. Jesus was born into humanity. He breathed, ate, interacted. Even though Scripture is silent on many details of His life, I'm sure He had some of the same experiences we all have. We have read that He wept and grieved. I'm sure He laughed, too. This season we celebrate Jesus' birth. Handel's Messiahlibretto is based on Isaiah, and his prophecy of Jesus. Thousands of years ago a Messiah was foretold, and we were promised great miracles. Some have come to fruition, others we are waiting for to occur. There is the question of timing. We want it NOW not when God wants it. Miracles happen everyday, even in the wake of tragedy. All of this hope began with a baby born in Bethlehem. Let heaven and nature sing.

I Surrender All

I have been practicing yoga for over 25 years now. As time marches on, my practice has evolved, devolved and reinvented itself. That’s part of the beauty of yoga, there isn’t one right path. People come to yoga for different reasons and to receive different gifts. One main reason why I tried it in the first place was because it was exotic. Back in the late 1980’s, yoga wasn’t common place like it is today. You didn’t have a choice in studios-if you could find one. I was fortunate my local community school offered a class in yoga-not hatha or yin or vinyassa or Bikram or anasura or any of the different varieties. It was down and dirty yoga, in the school gym. Not a studio, not anything special. It was the instructor and the students.


I gained more than just poses from that class, I learned to connect my mind and body and develop awareness. For a very long time, I was completely disconnected. My brain did one thing, my body did something else and ego got in the middle all the time. As a result of savasana, I began to long for a spiritual discipline. I began to pray the Rosary (and yes, Episcopalians do). I chanted and om’ed my way through life. There were some pretty profound changes. I still wasn’t ready for complete surrender, however. Making that complete correlation between mind-body-spirit is hard work and I wasn’t ready for ishvara-pradnidhana yet. I didn’t look to what I was eating (or not eating) as part of my practice. In other words, I dealt with a lot of disordered eating: binge and starvation, yo-yo dieting, crazy diets, and never once did things stick. It was about appearance and physicality. I looked at my yoga as the physical (asanas) and the spiritual but not the intertwining of everything-mind, body, spirit.

I wasn’t ready to surrender all. Yoga, Christ, anything.

The events of this past year have led me on a path where I needed to get down to the basics of surrender. I needed to be broken down to be made whole again. The concept of ishvara-pradnidhana defined by guru Shyam Mehta is:



the final act of surrender when you say to God: "From now on, I give You my body, my mind and my heart, to do with as you please. Let me not influence what they do."It is also every action that you do in order to prepare your mind for giving away your body, mind and heart to Him.



It’s the same as when someone accepts Christ into their hearts-you are giving your power to a higher being.

I surrender all.

I have been dealing with terrible back pain off and on for years. Its musco-skeletal, and its centered in my upper back. For the past six weeks, it has been excruciating. Every night I lay on the sofa, stretching out to try to relieve it. Nothing worked-in spite of using a heating pad, my massage cushion…everything. I visited a chiropractor who advised me that I had the tightest upper back she had ever seen, despite being a practicing yogi. The adjustment helped, but she suggested that I seek out other treatments because this was muscle based, and she couldn’t adjust it away. I talked to my friend who is a holistic healer, and she suggested that I invest in myself.

Huh?

She reminded me of the old adage-garbage in = garbage out. When you fill yourself with garbage-food, thoughts, activities-you will produce garbage. I have been filling myself with garbage, as a way to avoid surrender. This all came to a head with the back pain. I couldn’t do anything on my own to relieve it, so I had to surrender and trust that God would heal it.

And you know what? It kinda worked. I’m not saying that the pain is entirely gone, but there is a level of comfort. If its psychosomatic, that’s ok because I can do more now than I was able to a few weeks ago. I began to look at what else I was stuffing away in my life, and made a list. All those emotions that I tried to hide instead of surrendering them to my Higher Power have created garbage. I had been polluting myself.

By making poor choices to fuel my body, I gained extra weight. I surrender.

By not filling my cup, I suffer from burnout. I surrender.

By not exercising and moving more, my muscles are tight. I surrender.

By not keeping up with the housework, I spend all weekend cleaning. I surrender.

By not practicing my spiritual disciple, I am stressed. I surrender.

By not resting when I needed to, I am tired. I surrender.

By not focusing on my priorities, I lost sight of them. I surrender.

By not listening to my body, mind and soul, I hurt. I surrender.

I surrender all.

They Will Know We Are Christians By Our Love

I am an Episcopalian. My faith was best defined by Robin Williams during his 2003 HBO special:

10. No snake handling.

9. You can believe in dinosaurs.

8. Male and female, God created them; male and female, we ordain them.

7. You don’t have to check your brains at the door.

6. Pew aerobics.

5. Church year is color coded!

4. Free wine on Sunday.

3. All of the pageantry, none of the guilt.

2. You don’t have to know how to swim to get baptized.

And the number one reason for being an Episcopalian:

1. No matter what you believe, there’s bound to be at least one other Episcopalian who agrees with you.

In all seriousness, my denomination is making headlines over a vote at our General Convention. The item being considered was a liturgy to bless same sex commitment ceremonies (the rite stopped short of calling it a wedding or marriage outright), which was overwhelmingly approved.
That, in turn, caused the web to blow up.
My gut reaction is:
It's all about love. And, since I am a follower of Christ, I am going to do what He requires us to do in Matthew , chapter 22:
37 Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’[a] 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’[b] 40 All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

It doesn't say love your neighbor except if they are gay. It doesn't specify that you can't love them if they are lesbians. It doesn't specify race, creed, orientation or gender, just for us to love them as yourself. That's it. Not much to read into here-it goes back to that amazing four letter word: love.
I don't want to get into a theological debate as to which kind of love Jesus was referring to-
Eros romantic, sexual love
Philos platonic love
Or my personal favorite
Agape-God's love for His creation
Its not up to you or I to judge how someone is living their lives according to faith. I, myself, am a sinner-as we all
are-and certainly don't need another human being taking on the role of God. In other words, don't judge others because you too will be judged.
In Buddhist tradition, the concept of Metta, or loving kindness, should be practiced at all times. In yoga, the term namaste is the light in me salutes the light in you. In Judaism, love is not an abstract concept; it is an absolute. We are obligated to love creation, because it is an extension of self.
The cliff notes version: we are commanded to love. It is the ideal. There are no exclusions or caveats
It's just love .
However you feel about gay marriage or gay people-or fat people, or those with autism, or people different from you, it's ok to have an opinion. What's not ok is to spread hate. The world is a scary, mean place with enough trials and tribulations-we don't need others making it worse.
Jesus commanded us to love, no matter what.

Water at the Well

Today is Ash Wednesday, which is the start of Lent. It is the liturgical season of repentance, transformation and change. The 40 days leading up to Easter is a chance for spiritual renewal, to be reborn.
I've struggled for years to make Lent more meaningful. I think it's reflective of my faith journey. There have been years where it was Easter before I knew it, and other years 40 days seemed like an eternity.
I grew up thinking of Lent as a punitive season, where you're sent to time out. You give up something, and suffer through it. Then, at my old church, things got turned on it's head with Lenten thinking. You don't have to give something up to prove that you are pious. You can also take something on-a new service project, spiritual discipline, healthy living tool-instead of moping around. I've worked to be a factor of change in my world, to have a spiritual jubilee on Easter morning. I'm looking to spend the 40 days of Lent to cancel out some negative forces, and let the sunshine in.
Several years ago, I decided to pray Compline every night during Lent. It is the final prayer in the Liturgy of the Hours, which is the framework of monastic living. It is the final prayer of the day, and I found it a peaceful way to settle into sleep. It's been years, and it's still part of my practice.
One year, I gave up meat for Lent, which is now a trend. While it didn't deepen my spiritual journey as much as I thought it might, it added another dimension to my life-I began to focus on compassionate living. Another year, I read the Purpose Driven Life.
Once I gave up giving things up for Lent, it took on a new dimension for me.
When Jesus took to the desert (the Biblical basis for Lent) I don't think He was looking to give up something, I think he was searching for a deeper meaning for His ministry. As a result Lent is no longer a season I dread, but a chance to deepen my faith, my personal ministry. It's a labor of love-I am just one little minion in a sea of minions.
Faith needs to elastic, not static. It needs to change, twist, be flexible. Where my faith was in my early 20's is completely different than it is now in my early 40's. If it had stayed the same, there would be a problem because that means I haven't changed.
Lent is a chance to go to the well and find water, and never be thirsty.

4 Now he had to go through Samaria. 5 So he came to a town in Samaria called Sychar, near the plot of ground Jacob had given to his son Joseph. 6 Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired as he was from the journey, sat down by the well. It was about noon.

7 When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, “Will you give me a drink?” 8 (His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.)

9 The Samaritan woman said to him, “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.[a])

10 Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.”

11 “Sir,” the woman said, “you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water? 12 Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his livestock?”

13 Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, 14 but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” (John 4:4-14)

Faith

I didn’t grow up in a churchy family. In fact, there was a lot of disconnect regarding religion. My great grandfather was Lutheran, but more of a Deist than anything, my great grandmother was Catholic, but not practicing. As a result, neither my grandmother or her siblings were particularly religious. When she married my grandfather, they were married by a Lutheran minister. My grandfather went through 12 years of Catholic school, and was opposed to organized religion. That trickled down to my mother and aunt, neither of whom were particularly jazzed about church. I did get baptized and received my early sacraments and went to CCD, but we never went to church regularly.


When I was about 6 or 7, some older kids were bullying me and I ran into the rectory yard for St. Elizabeth’s Episcopal Church. Rev. Anderson was outside and he shooed away the bullies. After that, I began to visit him regularly with a host of religious questions for him. I even got to help polish church pews and other things, which for a little girl was a big thrill. It was the openness of talking about God, I didn’t know if that was a Rev. Anderson thing or if that was how it was overall, but it captured my attention and made me thirst for more.

I am grateful for Rev. Anderson, spending time teaching a little girl who wasn’t even a parishioner, about God, Jesus, and why we do what we do in churchLater as a teenager, I was active at Christ Church, where my faith was encouraged and strengthened As I went off to college, I drifted in and out of different denominations, trying to see where I fit, and I wound up back at the Episcopal Church time and again. It was like I was being called home, but I wasn’t in any big hurry to get there. In my mid 20’s I had a relationship end that just knocked the wind out of my sails and my dad got diagnosed with terminal cancer, and then died. I was lost, and I remember sitting on the floor in my bedroom in the dark, crying out for the Lord.

He answered me, and the next day I went to evening prayer at Trinity Church.

I never looked back.

I knew from a young age I was called to teach and work with youth, and at one point even considered ordained ministry. It was because of the time Rev. Anderson spent with me as a child a strong foundation was laid. Today, I living out the ministry God called me to when I was a child myself. I found my calling in implementing a worship service for sensory challenged individuals, including my own son. It was because I had to go through the trials and tribulations I did to come out on this side of things and see why I needed that journey of faith.

Bells Will Be Ringing

We are counting down the hours and minutes to the end of this year. 2012 holds forth such promise and I am looking forward to the calendar turning the page.
It's been a roller coaster year for me. I started the year, recovering from major surgery, and have ended the year, recovering from major surgery.
In between, I've had a lot of growth in my life, and been on a journey of self discovery. I've learned who my true friends are (and that was quite surprising who they turned out to be). There's a saying that a true friend is the one that will be sitting next to you on the bus when the limo breaks down. The bus seats were filled with folks I least expected, who have been amazing cheerleaders, confidantes and friends. The sad thing is, a lot of folks I thought wouldve gone for the ride with me, chose instead to wait for a tow truck.
You really do know who to depend on when you're in that pit.
In between, i've had a wild ride. I've seen my little blog get bigger and bigger, going from something for family and friends to hundreds of visitors a day.
I've had dreams come true; I started a business, doing a labor of love. I am in the process of starting an Etsy shop. Most of all, I made two dreams a reality: I began an autism ministry at my church and I published a book.
I will be teaching vegan cooking classes at the Museum of Visual Materials the 3rd Tuesday of every month at 6 pm. I was featured in a cover story in our local newspaper. Biggest accolade: being named woman of the year by a local magazine.
On the flipside, I have had some of the lowest lows. I had a hard time from healing from my last surgery so I had to have a follow up in November. I've had the aforementioned wake up call, causing me to re-evaluate things. I saw my tenure as PTO president end, and my phone stop ringing and the calendar opening. We've struggled with some of the challenges third grade puts on a kiddo with autism.
My dream of the prototypical family died as well. It's how you handle the valleys that make you appreciate the view from the mountain top.
Bells will be ringing, heralding a new year. Welcome 2012, welcome.