Author: mary

These are the observations of an ordinary woman in a very crazy world...which doesn't have to be a bad thing, especially when common sense prevails. Right now? I'm thinking that commons sense is close to extintion and should be put on the endangered list...except it has to be recognized to be protected, and there are too many people out there who don't seem to recognized it anymore

Faith in Imperfection

Often times, for me anyway, revelation gives way to a feeling of heightened stress and awareness that my boundaries have shifted, and I am no longer comfortably contained. As uncomfortable as that awareness is, I’ve learned over the years to soldier through the discomfort as a natural component of evolution. Perhaps it is why my adrenals are shot, a result of being so constantly uncomfortable, whether it’s attributably a result of not appreciating limits or embracing fully the momentum of exciting movement and not wanting to stop. I guess to my credit I never think or worry about that part much. I have learned to trust, wholeheartedly, in this journey I’m on that wherever it takes me and never resting on my laurels is a necessary part of the process. A process which began, at least most clearly for me on that day in Colorado. It took me a minute to find the photo I took on top of the mountain…and here it is. Old photos don’t give it justice, but I can still see clearly its radiance in my head.

In all my adventures, I’ve learned to appreciate how the world’s imperfections can ultimately evolve into spectacular beauty. As an artist, I love the small imperfections that bring out the beauty in a face, the lopsided curve of a lip, the unusual lilt of an ear, an elongated neck, a scar or unusual eye etc (I have a bright yellow freckle in my left iris which sometimes makes the blue, look green). I’ve been working on pencil drawings of micro expressions on people’s faces that wouldn’t be possible with perfect symmetry, and I so often wish others would see these elements with the depth of beauty that I do. I can tell you this though, had I not evolved in the manner I have, I probably wouldn’t have been able to see them either. Let me tell you about the dream I had the other night that changed my discomfort with expanding my boundaries to complete comfort in not having the need for any at all (which does not mean anarchy by any shape of the imagination, just limitations) …also, if you’re uncomfortable with expletives, there are many, so apologies.

I was in a very crowded place, unfamiliar and with no one I recognized. As it happens in my dreams sometimes, I wasn’t wearing clothes. I wasn’t particularly uncomfortable, except for the notion that it’s not normal to be in a crowded area like I was with no clothes on. Of course, these strangers did notice, and their looks of scrutiny also made it clear that I was the only one sands dress. My response this time, however, was different. Usually, I just move ahead not worrying about it. This time, however, I returned the scrutiny after realizing how many layers and coverings everyone else had on, at least I was hiding nothing, and I suddenly knew that underneath all the subterfuge, they were just as naked and flawed too. I flipped off more than one person in the crowd thinking how stupid they looked and went to look for my car. By the time I got to the street where cars were parked, I was wearing jeans and a T-shirt with a butterfly on it. I couldn’t find my keys, and when I found my car (and it was a beauty), there was a woman in a black suit standing in front of it holding my keys in her outstretched arm with a very smug look on her face (no it wasn’t a shadow form of me, and although I didn’t recognize her I’ll bet I could point her out in a line up). What happened next, NEVER, happens in my dream state. I have never felt such rage in my life, and I stepped within inches of her face and screamed: “Give me back my mother-fucking keys you bitch! You have no idea who you are messing with”. I looked down at my t-shirt at the butterfly there, snatched my keys from her hands and continued to yell: “I’m a goddamned butterfly and though my wings are small, I will change the weather, hell I will move mountains so get out of my fucking way!” (usually, I am the epitome of appropriate, always trying to treat others how I wanted to be treated…which is all fine and good, but this version made me dance a little). Stunned she moved out of my way, and I got in my beautiful car, turned up the music and drove away. God’s honest truth? I thought the lessons of this summer had about broke me. Now? I see it was all worth it. Here’s why.

All my life, I have been compelled to learn, grow, evolve, bear fruit, and to always become a better version of myself. Whether it was due to heavenly guidance, or my own DNA, my small circle of those who have tamed me, or working through my own karma, I have been graced with amazing opportunities to do so. I use the word grace specifically, because it is because of my flawed nature that the gift of grace even has a place in my life to transform my flaws into something beautiful and unique. There is no room for grace in one who refuses to see their own imperfections. Most importantly, without a lifetime of experiences facing obstacles, challenges, and sometimes taking time away to transform in my own personal chrysalis, I never would have turned into the badass butterfly that I believe I am right now. It is in weakness and imperfection that we become strong, as Paul reminds us in 2 Corinthians 12:9:

A thorn in the flesh was given to me, an angel of Satan, to beat me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it might leave me, but he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” I will rather boast most gladly of my weaknesses, in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me.

So, my friends, I guess I would rather be naked, my flaws exposed than covered in layers of subterfuge that cloak imperfections keeping them from transforming into a bad ass butterfly. I guess it’s also one of the reasons I love art and artists so much, like a chrysalis, they transform flaws into something beautiful, where grace is sufficient, power is made perfect and can and will transform the world.

Faith in Love

There is no point in believing you can have faith in God without love…The following verse from 1 Corinthians 13 is one that is embedded in my mind and soul. It as a directive for my daily living and am as emboldened by it as debilitated by it. I am measured by it and found wanting by it a lot, a simple and painful truth, but let’s just say that with what follows I’m keeping true to the promise I made at the beginning of this journey and because of the incessant broadcasting of my incomparable heavenly voice not letting me off the hook…again.

If I speak in human and angelic tongues but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal. And if I have the gift of prophecy and comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge; if I have all faith so as to move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away everything I own, and if I hand my body over so that I may boast but do not have love, I gain nothing

That pretty much sums it up. If you search this site, I have many posts about love, its substance, wielding it, how it will never be limited to expression or structure, and most importantly that while its essence remains constant, it is also a melody that is unique to each soul, guiding each person to choreograph their own unique dance to make it efficacious in the world spreading its light outward to halt the darkness. So, faith without love, for me anyway, is dancing a choreography that has no music to it whatsoever. It is simply an empty gesture that moves nothing and no one. I see a lot of empty choreography in the world right now, and the reasons why the music is on mute I’m sure are myriad, since I can’t say what mutes the music for anyone else, here’s what muted it for me. (I am completely verklempt right now, so taking a break)

First, let me explain the picture I chose for this post. I was just over two years old, and I was playing with my brothers and the neighbor boys and based on my expression was a bit peeved that I had to stop playing so my father could take the picture (he told me about it much later). I never cared about being proper, or getting messy, I just wanted to play…so it is this little girl who so easily danced to the music of her soul, that will help me focus through the rest of this post, so please be kind.

Dreams have always been important to me. I dream vividly and my unconscious world is a place of mysticism and magic where I encounter revelation, lessons, warnings, people I don’t know irl, and it is a sacred space for me. I had a powerful dream, in which my spirit guide handed me a black, oblong shaped rock and told me it would get me into hell. I was shocked and tried to give it back literally screaming “Why the hell would I want to go to hell?” I never did get an explanation but was shoved forward. Maybe I blocked it, or maybe I wasn’t ready to be conscious of it, but I don’t remember what happened next, until the lesson presented itself in real life.

Remember the story in the last post about the telephone pole? Well, that is only part of the story. The context was a leadership retreat I was on, where we had to do different team building activities, like obstacle courses high up in the trees and fear challenging activities like the telephone pole, etc. all to build trust in our team. Feeling proud that I had mastered them all pretty easily, I should have remembered my prayer about never becoming an asshole, because the last challenge, one that was unique to each individual helped me understand the hell dream I had. Context is important here, so let me just say that music and dance are built into my DNA. I wasn’t allowed to learn dance, but I was allowed to study classical piano which I did for 12 years. Of course, I danced anyway whenever I could, whether at clubs, classes I paid for, and even teaching dance aerobics classes. These two activities were, for me anyway, impossible to put on mute, my soul itself was on display. For piano, I developed a debilitating stage fright that made recitals and competitions almost impossible. Dance, if it was on my own terms was doable, but considering all my other pursuits, it often fell to the background and with the exception of my classes, never in front of an audience, and now structurally it is hard on my body (but I still crush it in my head). So, enter my last challenge on the retreat. (Ok, I’m taking another break and going to work out).

No one ever told me why this challenge was given to me, but with dread I accepted it and hardened myself to the increasingly common response I would have to something that terrified me…the “I’ll show you response” The challenge I was presented was a dance I had to create and present to my team to the music of a Joe Cocker song “You can keep your hat on”. I had two hours to prepare and get the necessary supplies (one being a visit to Victoria’s Secret). I kept more than my hat on, but not much. I had to decide whether to fake it or make it. I chose the latter and merged my soul with the dance I created and by the end there were plenty of responses including and not limited to the level of discomfort and lack of eye contact (everyone was in a circle around me) and a number of increased hand clasping in front of their crotches (I desperately tried to find more genteel language…but decided “fuck it” there was no delicate way to say it). I didn’t die but I didn’t feel good about it either, and I still don’t. You know why? None of them ever looked at me the same way after that, which I hated, and even upon leaving that night I heard a few of them telling Steve, who had come to pick me up and who I was just dating at the time, that he was a very lucky man. It was his look that made the whole experience worthwhile for me. He never asked why but simply looked at them with an expression of “duh, I already know that” and it suddenly dawned on me that he saw me in my entirety and no contrived dance would change that.

I couldn’t understand the challenge of my dream, until I ventured into the dark recesses of my unconscious, my own personal hell. I discovered that I could never comfortably dance my dance in the world if I thought it would have to be embraced, appreciated, or always understood by others. I left ministry as a profession forever a few months later and became a stripper (JUST KIDDING!!!!) I really did leave ministry as my profession though, and accepted Steve’s marriage proposal and moved to Wisconsin where I started a whole new path less travelled. I simply realized that the choreography imposed by church structures became incompatible to the music of my soul. I’m not speaking of black or white here, all things are on a spectrum, but as I’ve said before, if the structure of the choreography that you have chosen for whatever reason inhibits the melody of your soul, in whatever situation, be it professional or relationships, then I think it’s time to visit your own personal hell and figure out how to repair the balance. In my case any real balance seemed untenable, so I moved on.

In conclusion, what propels me in this moment is a commitment to love, to never be a clanging symbol. The world needs every melody, every movement. Our world is filled with experts in choreography, whose dance falls flat and empty. Somehow the void needs to be filled by those of us who have the courage to let our melodies sound. My dance is far from perfect, and I admit I am a lot for people to deal with. I am not an easy person period, but I truly believe that God intended me to be this way and as long as I am committed to visiting hell once in a while and make sure the music of my soul rings clear, the sound of my melody gets stronger.

Faith and Limits

The phrase: “No Limits”, was a guiding principle of my early life, as well as the phrase: “If it was meant to be it was up to me”. I thought I was holding to the principle that with God, everything was possible, which I still believe is true, however, none of us are on this journey alone, and when you’re so hell bent on moving forward at any cost, you do miss the occasional freight train coming your way that inevitably throws you off course. I missed seeing plenty of them, and have shouldered the consequences of the trauma caused, and yet at the same time have evolved by lessons from them that I would have never learned otherwise. I did settle down, and more importantly took the time to evaluate a situation when a huge obstacle seemed to be thrown down on my path. Sometimes, I believe the obstacles were heavenly blessings, sometimes a consequence of my impatience or inability to see when I was acting recklessly (like the time I swan dived off the top of a telephone pole with a simple harness to prove to the asshole guys below that while I may have been just a “peanut” as they called me, my metaphorical balls were bigger than theirs…which is why I went last, so there would be no discussion) Like I’ve said before my greatest weakness was thinking I had none, and I’ve paid a huge physical consequence as a result. Sometimes the limitations I face are just examples of living in a flawed human world. Lastly, some of the limitations were a result of people who threw obstacles in my path simply because they just didn’t like me or care or just didn’t give a shit and wanted me to fail, which is another reason why it’s important to surround yourself with those few people who have tamed you and have your back. Another essential caveat in understanding why I am standing where I am at this point is a prayer I made while part of a peace keeping mission with the National Council of Churches in Soviet Russia in 1984. I was the youngest by about a decade and in reaction to the bombast of many Pastors and Ministers I interacted with on the trip…I simply asked this : Lord, whatever it takes please, please, please never let me become an asshole (pretty much word for word). I believe God held true to that prayer and placed many obstacles and sent karmic blasts my way that kept me in my place.

Appreciating limits, learning from them and never wanting to become an asshole, to put it bluntly, are essential guiding principles for me now, besides all those other axioms of my faith. Which is why, and I’m going out on another limb here, I need to state clearly that I am not seeking fame, notoriety, or using a subject of my art as a steppingstone or any other misguided belief others have about why I paint what I paint and where it goes once I’m finished. It has always been my practice (even though I’ve only been doing this for five-ish years) to first offer the portrait to the subject in it if they want it as a gift before I put it up for sale. There are plenty of joyful examples of that in my small circle and I do it without bragging or notoriety. I do it because I simply want to continue the ripple (which is why I’ve also thought more than once why this gift came to me so late). Since the internet is, for me anyway, a kind of wild frontier, it has become one of those limits that I will have to learn to navigate around, with as much respect as I can. And I know I am pushing the limit of the prayer I made all those long years ago to God about not being an asshole…but if I see one more reel of an attractive Asian man sands shirt or other clothing in clearly visible underwear brands my fucking head is going to explode…put your damn clothes on. One of the things I’ve appreciated about Asian TV and films is a more genteel approach to human interaction, and people aren’t nekked and eating face all the time, plus modesty to the XY’s in my house were never and still aren’t a priority much to my chagrin, so I’ve seen enough for a lifetime….

Lastly, I don’t have much of an online footprint, because my presence is more to observe and learn and broaden my perspective. What I find hilarious and representative of my relationship with God is that when you search my name according to the AI info on Meta, It turns out I’ve had a long and illustrious career as a beauty pageant consultant (and I’m dead). Best laugh I’ve had in a long time…and for some I may need to say this, that is one of the many adventures that I haven’t had.

Let your next limitation be an opportunity to learn, re-evaluate, and redirect if needed, while still holding onto the power that guides you…as I said in the beginning, with God all things are possible.

Faith and Mysticism

Since I posted the unfinished portrait of an artist in the last post, here is the finished piece. Not mystical by any shape of the imagination, but it did crack open my soul a little bit.

I rarely speak of this dimension of my faith, because I am by nature, more prone to root my foundation in doctrines and practices of behavior that fall under things that I can see and touch. Prayer is easy for me because it doesn’t feel as mystical as just singing a soul song while moving in and out of all the minutia of my life, and at this age hindsight is my best personal proof that it works. The more metaphysical aspects, which I do believe in hook, line and sinker, still freak me the hell out. I have had plenty of experiences in my life when the unexplainable, a synchronicity of events, or a stupendous moment of wonder and even a couple of times an experience of unmitigated evil, send my adrenals into fight or flight (which these days seem to be all the time). The thing that comes with an awareness of the mystical and embracing it and allowing it to change and alter one’s perspective over time, is that what you see and hear, become aware of, is demonstrably more acute than what most people are aware of, and it isn’t because they can’t, but because they won’t. I know I am walking into a territory that is akin to walking in a mine field, but here goes.

The Gospels aren’t just filled with stories about rules of behavior, rewards and punishment, ritual, or eternal life. They are also filled with miracles, mystical experiences, Jesus’ prescient knowledge of what is really on people’s minds, of walking on water, and the raising of the dead just to name a remarkable few. Those were the things originally that were the most difficult for me to embrace. As a young woman, I climbed my first mountain at 17 (I had just graduated high school and turned 18 the next day). It was Mt Yale, one of the collegiate peaks in Colorado. We were dropped off at the summit, and after four or five grueling hours with a lot of swearing on my part (like I have said before, I do not share the normal characteristics and affinities of a religious person) my heart pounding and a moment of petulant crying, I made it to the top. It was a religious experience looking out over the Continental divide, and, but for the wind, the silence was deafening and truly amazing. It was truly a rocky mountain high, but what followed was the moment my life would never be the same. As clear as day, I heard a voice say “you are mine now” I turned around in hopes to see the boy I had a crush on, and there was no one there. Knowing I wasn’t prone to auditory hallucinations, I tossed it up to oxygen deprivation and gave a chuckle, only to hear the voice again “you heard me right”. My soul cracked and I knew with perfect clarity I would never be the same again. The trip down the mountain only took an hour or so and was completely terrifying how easily it would be to tumble like Wylee Coyote down the steep slope. I threw up twice, of course both times in front of said cute boy and never said a word to anyone about what I had heard.

That was the summer before college and could not dismiss the voice that would accompany me throughout the rest of my life. I needed to know more and it was that moment I decided to study theology (much to my parent’s chagrin who had hopes of using my big brain to make some big bucks). Usually, I hear the voice at pivotal points in my life to help me focus and redirect my path necessarily, but not enough to lead me to believe that I had succumbed to schizophrenia or mental illness in any form, I’m way too practical and objective for that (seriously, I’m not an idiot… I know how far fetched this sounds). I still never told anyone about those auditory messages, because they are for no one else’s benefit but my own. But I do pay attention to the words I hear and adjust accordingly, because I have come to believe it truly is a knowledge beyond me that is assisting me, because I can be pretty clueless when it comes to reading a situation or am as stubborn as a mule when moving into territory I just don’t want to go (like right fucking now). Importantly, I think my heavenly help is truly for me alone, so I don’t get in my own way. I am never going to be one of those people who tells others the reason they are behaving in such a way is because God told them to…which truly is just an excuse to use God as leverage to justify their behavior. For me, it comes in the form of a smack on my head when I’m being obtuse, or a loving message of comfort when I’m falling apart, it is simply one of those mystical things that I can’t explain but shouldn’t feel the need to hide from, even though I still do, a bit.

If I can believe that a Savior can die for my sins, and offers me heavenly help whenever, in goodness, I ask for it, I guess the occasional message that only I can hear is part of my package. I also guess I can’t talk about faith without mentioning the dimension of it I can’t rationally explain. I am limited to four dimensions however, God is not. So, moving ahead, perhaps you will understand me and what motivates me more clearly…or write me off as delusional, which would make me sad, but it is what it is.

Faith and Power

Before I begin, I should have realized that doing a video would open me up to…questions? scrutiny? a bunch of crap? So a few clarifications…I do not publish comments on this site ever, because, well, I don’t want to. I find the process vainglorious and often disingenuous, at least for people I don’t know personally (to those I do know that have commented, I have read them but as a general rule I don’t publish or respond to them as a matter of course but they do make me smile). I turn off “likes” and “counters” to the best of my ability because I think they are the heroin of the internet…and because, well, I just don’t care. I never did this for adulation, validation or criticism…I started this blog to record and share my ordinary observations and just send them out in the most ordinary way possible, and it is my belief that it reaches anyone who could benefit without strings, end of story.

Second clarification…I do my own art, with my own hands, period. Never took a class EVER. The story of learning to draw and paint during COVID is 100% accurate. Why or how I never knew I could do this is a story for another time and place and I’m really, really, irritated that I felt I needed to post something unfinished just to to prove authenticity and am equally as irritated at myself for caring whether or not anybody thinks I’m a fraud, but clarity is important to me so there you have it. To get juvenile for a moment…some people are a bunch of poop heads…tantrum over.

Now to the subject at hand, which I think goes well with the snark from above. When I think of power, ultimately what defines it is the source, the means by which it is propelled or moved forward. For me, there is a distinct difference from an external power, like a wind or a weapon, and an internal power like fear or love. Of course, power like any energy is on a spectrum. There have always been ways culture has created or structured ways to protect or insulate oneself from external powers, be it weather or war, which have, throughout history, have had varied degrees of success, but that is an issue for another time. My focus today, regardless of what external powers you face in your life, is what internal power moves you, strengthens you, centers you, keeps you on solid footing even when the world is not and you face a power or force that wants to move you in a direction you don’t want to go. It is then, in those moments, where you to need to decide what kind of internal power you put your faith in. I deeply distrust or have no faith in anyone who believes that they are somehow by divine placement, popularity, or ancestry, inherently blessed with greater power than anyone else. Appearances are deceptive, from those that hold great worldly power to those that hold none, we are of the same substance. While external power may favor the few, it is the internal power of love that will strengthen the multitudes. One of my favorite New Testament verses comes from Paul’s letter to the Philippians, 4:11-13 (the last line of which you may be familiar because a lot of athletes have tattoos of this)

Not that I say this because of need, for I have learned, in whatever situation I find myself, to be self-sufficient. I know indeed how to live in humble circumstances; I know also how to live with abundance. In every circumstance and in all things I have learned the secret of being well fed and of going hungry, of living in abundance and of being in need. I have the strength for everything through him who empowers me.

In my lifetime, I have become measurably stronger, by heaven’s standards anyway, because I am aware of and have chosen to have faith in the God of love that moves me, stills me, strengthens me in whatever situation that comes my way, whether in need or abundance (even on the internet 😉 ). I also know in this spinning world, the determinative factor in not allowing it to spin out of control are those of us who stand in strength, regardless of where, or who we are from the lowest places to the highest sourced by the God of love who empowers us.

Prayers for You on my Birthday

Faith of a Mustard Seed

The above photo was the first painting I did, inspired by my youngest son Riley (the picture following), the context of which is important in understanding the title of this post. In true transparency, I deplore weakness…which in fact, ironically, is one of my greatest weaknesses. The truth of the matter is that we all experience weakness at some point, and I think I’ve been blessed with my fair share…again, no plea for sympathy, it is just a fact, and one that became a blessing for me. I was diagnosed with a spondylolisthesis in my late 20’s (where the facet joints break off, so my L-5 vertebra is free floating). While I opted not to get surgery (because I was told it was only a 50% chance of improvement with 100% promise of future surgeries) I just kept fit, and received regular Chiropractic adjustments. (plus it doesn’t hurt that I fell in love with a chiropractor who also has a doctorate in sports injury). Anyway, along with a genetic autoimmune disease (adrenal/stomach) which caused dietary and digestive issues and bell’s palsy a facial paralysis three different times, my life has been focused on keeping a good diet, managing stress and structural strength, which I managed fairly well…until COVID.

Back in March of 2020, two days before our country shut down, while dancing with abandon at my nieces’ wedding, I shredded the labrum in my right hip (probably overtaxed by my back), which literally halted my ability to move and function normally, and since the country was shut down, there was nothing I could do to address the situation. I knew I needed a hip replacement but was forced to wait a year and a half. While trying to make the best of walking like a peg-legged pirate and being the administrator at our clinic which was dramatically altered and weakened by the pandemic and being cut off from people and unable to release my stress through movement, I really knew my mental health was at a fragile point like many others around the world. One day, my son Riley (both of my children were forced to move back home, which was also interesting…) gave me a picture he had taken the summer prior climbing Mt M at Montana State University where my oldest child got their computer engineering degree. He said simply, “Mom, you should paint this.” So I ordered a simple watercolor set and paper online and did just that. Not thinking whether or not I could do it or to what or where it would lead, I just did it, to put my energy somewhere positive amidst all the doom and gloom that surrounded me. The result has led me to a place that in hindsight, saved me. A gentle leap, the faith the size of a mustard seed has led me down another road less travelled, one more solitary and calm but vibrant nonetheless, even though it has forced me to adapt in ways I never thought possible.

I am by nature a mover. My earlier years were full of world travel that included cultural excursions, mountain/glacier/cliff climbing/hiking/biking, rafting down rivers, snorkeling, sailing etc., I also held multiple jobs beside my main gig in ministry to pay for said adventures that included aerobics instruction, cycling classes, writing curriculum, selling books and clothes (which were a wash because I seemed to use my paycheck to pay for all the good stuff I got at a great discount.;). While I’m glad I did so much when I was young, I also knew that adapting to my changing circumstances was inevitable. All was well, for a long time, until it wasn’t, when chronic pain (which I’ve spoken about before) was more in the forefront than in the background. I remember sobbing in the shower one day, when I couldn’t lift my leg up to the bench to shave my leg because of my hip issue and prayed that I could find a way around these horrible circumstances…and then Riley gave me that picture and said: “Mom, I think you should paint this.”

The reason for exposing all this personal stuff, which I am loath to do and literally makes me sick to my stomach sharing, is because I truly believe that in the depths of our sorrows, maladies, fears, disappointments, loneliness and the harsh reality of the weight of human limitation lies an opportunity that only takes the faith the size of a mustard seed in the God of love and possibility to find a glimmer of hope for a new path. To all who are weary, He will bring you rest. Part of adapting to a new reality for me means I can’t be embarrassed when my faith is stretched thin and I am weak, it happens to all of us. Faith is neither black or white…but I find comfort in believing that even a small amount of faith, when that is all I can muster allows me to take a deep breath and move forward, especially since I’m back to walking bit like a pirate again, as my other hip needs replacing. All will be well, though. I will dance the mother/son dance when Riley gets married in November, of that I am sure of.

Jesus said to them, “Amen, I say to you, if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”

Hope and Innocents

Innocence

When I was pregnant with my first child, I remember reflecting on Jesus words when he said that the kingdom of heaven belonged to the likes of children. I am also a strong proponent of the butterfly effect in chaos theory whereby the subtle flutter of a butterflies wings can affect a weather system a thousand miles away…its the subtle small things often overlooked that are so important in a child’s development. I believe it was and still is my job, then, to create an environment for my children that would help them develop their true potential (I really did think that way…the world in my head is exhausting). As any parent knows, raising a child is a daunting job in the best of times, often rife with unexpected obstacles along the way. While truly delightful, my oldest, an unconventional, extraverted, highly intelligent free spirit wasn’t always easy to guide along their path, considering the world we live in often doesn’t appreciate the unconventional and tries to pigeon hole children into certain restrictive molds…and mine would have none of that. My second child, in personality was nothing like his sibling. Anything I thought I could use with my first in raising my second was tossed out the window. He was introverted and cautious, never felt the need to talk much (of course he could hardly get a word in edgewise at our house), was single minded, an adept athlete, an animal lover with a sharp sense of humor and deep sense of empathy. In a highly competitive world where bluster often is represented as talent, he quietly forged his own way on his own merits.

While the initial conditions of each child were demonstrably different…I did desire my little butterflies to shape their own path, keeping their inner spirits as intact as possible. In a household full of testosterone, it was always a challenge for me to navigate the polarities on the masculinity spectrum. The odd one out, I often struggled to understand that particular language…I failed a lot of the time. But I do know this, if anyone or anything tried to harm them in any way, this is was where I would step in (and my husband too, don’t want to forget him). While I am a pacifist…there is no question in my mind that if anyone tried to harm either of my children I could exert a great deal of pain, especially with my velociraptor like rhetoric (never underestimate the power of words, especially spoken low and slow without blinking…the nuns taught me that). I am small, just over 5 feet, and both my children are 6 feet and above and can certainly hold their own, but at 30 and 28…they are just beginning to shape the weather in the world and I am still driven by the innocence they were born with, and have faith that it still remains intact deep within them and will fight to the death to protect it.

I chose a painting I did of a little Hispanic girl because I think we forget about the beauty that lies within all children. The Kingdom of God belongs to her as much as mine, and her little butterfly wings are so very fragile that I hope they aren’t crushed by the rampant racism, and fear that comes with having a different color skin before she is able to shape the future weather of our world. I’m sure her parents would do whatever it took to bring her to a safe place too. Let this be a gentle reminder then, having faith in a child’s needs means helping to keep in tact the innocence and beauty they were born with.

Faith in Each Other

Throughout this journey of mine, focusing in on yearly themes: Clarity, Bearing Good fruit, Truth, Love, Joy, Leadership, Seeing and Hearing, Power, Hope, and now Faith, the path forward for me has become so much more clear and open than when I began, and yet my movement forward, while seemingly unobstructed, is with an even greater amount of trepidation. I think the more I’ve observed, learned, and pondered the more I realize the limits of my ability to do anything about what I’ve learned. The painful reality of stripping away the illusions that I’ve embraced over a life time, is the vulnerable smallness of what is left. I am aware of my limited power and capacity as a microscopic and seemingly insignificant part of the body of humanity to have any impact on what appears to be pathological spiral toward extinction, all the while dragging me along for the ride. I believe one of the greatest illusions of our time is to think that we are not significantly connected to every other living being on our planet, and to believe that: 1) the choices we make have no impact on or create consequences for anyone else, or 2) we are aware that our choices do impact and have consequences for others but justify the degree to which any given choice is acceptable by embracing multiple ideologies available out there as a defense or justification. All that being said, I also know, even subtly, that my actions send out ripples that can be life affirming or not, and even if I am just a cell in a larger body, I will hold myself responsible for the life force I’ve been given to play my part in keeping the body healthy and moving forward.

Yes, I am fully aware that this is a post about faith in each other, in which I still have the greatest confidence, so I will shift from the negative to something more positive. My confidence lies, predominantly anyway, in the other simple cells like me who are trying their best to play their part in keeping the body healthy. I don’t want anyone to think that one cell is unimportant in the scope of things because we all know the havoc one cancerous cell can do to a body, eventually. I also want to wake up those small parts of the body who have been chained to the belief that they have nothing to offer, because you do, we all do. We need every gift, every light if we are to survive. One never knows how one’s innate gifts will affect the body of humanity’s ability to thrive. I think the greatest source of evil and darkness in this world are the people who encourage the condemnation and extraction of parts of the body of humanity that have been determined unworthy. There are plenty of loud voices in power clearly determining who the lesser parts of this body are and that they don’t matter. God says otherwise though, that every person is of consequence. Every creation, every gift, every light sends out ripples that can influence and help another part of the body thrive. Every individual has a gift unique to them, a beautiful blueprint that should be celebrated. We have to stop undermining these simple blessings of goodness that make the world go round

This body of humanity still holds and reflects such incredible beauty, some of which I have tried to capture in my art, and has become a powerful fuel for kindling my faith in moving forward. One of my greatest transformations is that once I learned to see and recognize beauty in its multiple forms, I see it so much more clearly, readily and often, (even amidst the all the subterfuge or being co-opted for nefarious purposes). I think the result of recognizing and developing one’s own unique gift, or ones light…and then using it, you begin to have a greater impact and create stronger ripples into the world, bringing that positive energy into someone else’s line of sight, thus influencing them to do the same with their own gifts. The last painting I did (up above) was something completely different, unassociated with anything I know of personally. Somewhere on the other side of the world, I was able to capture an image of a character in a story seeing something beautiful. I don’t think that assessment is a personal invention, because where I have it displayed at our clinic, or at a one of my shows, others stare at it and feel the same way. One person said to me they felt “calmly encouraged” That will be my mechanism for future work. There is just so much beauty I want to capture out there, that I want everyone to feel calmly encouraged.

Faith in Oneself

I figure if one doesn’t have any faith in themselves, they lack the substance necessary to have a deep faith in anything else. Perhaps that is the true reason the world is going to hell in a handbasket. I have a deep sadness in my soul sharing that conclusion, because every day I cross paths with people who may smile and present an image that they have it altogether, but whose eyes project something entirely different. There is a benefit to walking in the world as an invisible speck unobserved without recognition, and let me tell you I observe and hear more than most. It’s as if there is a great drought and no one is getting the nourishment they need to flourish. I’m not talking about flashy personas and surface glamour that social media has helped perfect these days, the kind that fabricates an image, ideal or presence that may have nothing at all to do with the real person inside. Being bombarded with so many expectations of “who”, “what”, or “how” we should be, it becomes understandable then, why so many haven’t been able to build a faith in that personalized essence and potential we were born with. Trying to develop our giftedness on our own in such a turbulent world just seems untenable to me. There has to be a careful balance between a self love necessary to grow, and and surrounding oneself with the kind of individuals and institutions that will truly support your efforts.

There are two passages in scripture that I think highlight the importance of faith in oneself, In one, Jesus tells a parable about a master handing out gifts to his servants as he goes on a journey. Most take the gifts they are given and work hard to increase and expand them, while one, out of fear buries it in the ground. When the master returns, he rewards those whom have expanded the gifts they were given, but to the one who buried it out of fear, he takes the gift away and gives it to the others. That story always terrified me because I always thought I was incapable of pleasing anyone regardless of what I’d been given and was beholden to their expectations. I know many people who never received encouragement probably feel the same way. As a mature adult, I grieve all the things I could have accomplished earlier had I just had the necessary faith in myself to follow those gifts I was innately passionate about, and not define myself according to who others thought I should be. I know for many who know me personally, as the feisty girl who fought for just causes might be a bit surprised by my declaration, but unfortunately my courage fighting for others really didn’t include fighting for myself, That statement is not to enlist any pity whatsoever, I’m quite objective about it, I just didn’t see things as clearly as I do now.

The second example of how important faith in oneself is, is the parable of building a house on solid rock, to withstand the tribulations that come in life verses building something on a flimsy substance like sand, which can collapse easily. The driving force of my faith is to create that kind of enduring foundation that will help me succeed in bringing the best of my gifts to the world. And I also think with a strong foundation, I, and you too, have a better sense of who those necessary people are in our lives to walk with us on our journey. I’m tired of the emotional exhaustion of standing on solid ground thinking its my responsibility to keep others from sinking into the sand. I know that sounds mean, but think about it…if I spend all my time trying to hold others up who have made the choice to live in fear and bury their gifts in the ground and expect someone else to do the heavy lifting, then I lose too. That doesn’t mean we don’t reach out and help our neighbor, it just means it can’t be at the expense of our own development.

I spent a large part of my life holding up others as a pretense to cover up my own fears and insecurities and the results wrecked havoc on my own self image. Being good at helping others at the expense of ones own growth is like building a foundation on sand. I figured it out on my own timeline, but still struggle with those old thought patterns on a daily basis, regardless of how my gifts begin to shine, which is also why I can’t imagine being on this journey without the foundation in stone my faith brings and those in my life who have tamed me and I’ve tamed back. (See reference to the story of the wood fox in the Little Prince). My little house on the rock may not be of great significance in the whole scheme of things, but it’s what I’ve been given and I need to have faith in that gift and the gentle ripples it can send out to encourage others establish their place with firm footing too.

Faith in Expertise

Expert

noun

ex·​pert: one with the special skill or knowledge representing mastery of a particular subject

adjective

1: having, involving, or displaying special skill or knowledge derived from training or experience

There seems to be a lot of conversation about what constitutes expertise in the world today, and who or what can lay claim to mastery of a particular subject matter, and how one earns that mastery. I included the definition of the word, because it is as good a place to start at any. Note the words: special skill or knowledge, displaying a qualified skill DERIVED from training or experience. Here is where is gets really sticky for me. The availability of information out there, claiming knowledge, mastery, special skill is just mind boggling…and often times not based in someone who has a special skill, knowledge or practical proof of its application in the real world, i.e. just because you have a website, watched a bunch of videos or podcasts, or took a training course, or are part of whatever group that bestows a title like the wizard of OZ… it does not necessarily make you an expert.

So what does? Well I personally believe it must include a shit ton of hard work. The actual work, whether it is in an academic setting, an apprenticeship, real life experience of climbing up a ladder that includes rigorous study, and experiencing different aspects of a chosen field of expertise that is rooted in hard work, trial and error. And in particular, learning from failure. Failure is an essential quality of becoming an expert at something. If you haven’t failed, and then learned from that failure, and still claim to be an expert, then you are full of shit. I say that harshly, because I am sick of people who skip the hard middle unglamorous part and jump to the end without fault, failure, or effort and claim mastery of a skill, especially without listening to or learning from other experts. its just not realistic. I, in particular, have failed a lot, and I learned from those failures a lot. Thankfully, I was raised to believe that failure could be my greatest tool for advancement if I took responsibility and learned from it, and my teachers always appreciated my diving in whole hog and not giving up even when I landed on my face, and I did…a lot. As a result, I have mastered several skills, and the result? While I know I have performed well in all of them, one of my greatest insights is that the more I know, the more I become aware of how much more I don’t know. And while humbling, it doesn’t render null and void what I have learned, it just means that developing expertise never ends. As my dad used to say, faith in anything unchallenged is dead.

So now that I have decried all the fake experts out there, I also want to take a moment to decry all those true experts out there who have twisted the mastery of their skill as a weapon against those who have put their trust in them. I don’t mean those who have without malice led someone astray, but who have done so because they could exploit their ignorance, manipulate their weaknesses and profit off a desire for power, money, fame or whatever for their own gain. I think that is also a reason why people have a mistrust for those who claim to have their best interest, and have suffered harm as a result.

The way around dealing with the failure of some experts is not, however, to decry them all, or pretend that anybody can do anything they want under the guise of expertise because they think they can do a better job. I think many skills are not transferable. You would never use a plumber to do an appendectomy, or a CPA to teach first grade (and for any of you out there who think teaching is something anyone can do…I hope you have the experience of that…they will rightly eat you alive). In particular for me, I get super pissed at people who dismiss a college education as a mechanism of indoctrination. That is such bullshit. I experienced the exact opposite of that in my many degrees (and if you think I’m simply bragging, fuck off, I earned four) The experts I learned from challenged me on material that first appeared either impossible or berated me on a conclusion on a something I thought obvious rather than research different angles of the issue. As a result of practice, research, and learning and mentoring with those who had already done the work of becoming an expert, I became one myself, with my own unique approach. I didn’t just earn high marks for regurgitating material…I used my own mind, thought processes, and input from actual experts to hone my skill. So excuse me if I get pissed off when someone who either never went to college, or had an aversion to being challenged comes to a conclusion like that just because it didn’t work for them. I would expect the same derision from someone who is an expert in a trade, or non academic skill, if someone judged their training because they didn’t want to do the hard middle part of honing a skill, or even worse yet, didn’t even believe it WAS a skill. I’d want to say fuck off to them too.

Lastly, and it must be said…making the most money at something does not make you a greater, smarter or skilled expert than anybody else. Money isn’t necessarily proof that you are better skilled than someone else (unless perhaps the skill is making money, and even that can be bypassed if, well, you’re a criminal). Some of the least skilled experts I know have made more money than some of the most skilled experts I know (and it works vis versa too, but in this day and age, having money and power are too often mistaken for expertise).

So what do we do? We pay attention to the effort someone has put into their expertise and its application in the real world. We take the time to see if we are just being fed what we want, or what we really need from an expert for our benefit as much as theirs. We have to look at the fruits of their labor. I know that’s a pretty vague answer, but it is a place to start. We have to have faith in the journey and the work that it takes to have a skill, and not cut corners just to proclaim to the world you’ve won the prize.

Faith and Integrity

Sometimes sharing my faith journey is uncomfortable to me, not because I’m embarrassed, but more because I tend to keep my deepest feelings close to the vest. Catholicism was the faith I was raised in, and while its study came easy, I didn’t always appreciate the explanations I got from the adults I was surrounded by (for example, I once had to crawl around the school on my hands and knees for messing up my first confession…but really how the hell was I supposed to know the lights went out in the confessional the minute you kneeled down?). So much of my schooling was fear based and negative, while the scripture I listened to in church, really wasn’t that way at all. I also didn’t always find the clergy very good representatives of those stories either…mostly because they didn’t seem all that happy, positive or peaceful. I remember expressing my dilemma in my childhood diary and came to this conclusion: what do I know, I’m only a kid. I’m not sure when I stopped giving adults so much deference for their instruction, but I knew there had to be another way to breath faith into my daily life.

When that did happen, and I made my own personal commitment to Christ, I felt sick to my stomach and a bit depressed. While I knew I was never an easy kid, I did take things like commitments very seriously. I knew I would be in this for the long haul, and that, if it were to mean anything at all, it would mean a deep material change to my life and how I walked in it. That’s personally terrifying for someone who felt ineffectual, lacking in social cues and graces, and didn’t particularly share an affinity for religious people. (I still feel a great deal of guilt for believing at the time, that they were too saccharine and a bit overbearing and touchy). When I found groups of faith filled people who were more like me, I was more celebratory about it, but didn’t always see how we were any different from any other young person. I also learned real quickly, as in any group, there are assholes everywhere.

My journey became much more internal, especially as I embraced theology as my major as an undergrad. The struggle was always taking all that I learned and somehow superimposing it on how I walked in the world. I also don’t naturally carry the disposition that Jesus walked in the world with, so I struggled, but still believed that it was my path to continue into the future, wherever it took me. The integrity of that commitment meant that any endeavor I made had to be a reflection of what I believed. I worked in Ministry in some shape or form for decades, and it was clinging to my integrity that brought me to the point in my life where I decided that I no longer comfortably believed that the whole is greater that the summary of its parts. This is not a denigration of churches out there who supply breath and life to faith for a lot of people. There are wonderful places out there. But if I’m honest, and that is the core of integrity, there are too many who hide under the banner of faith and never feel overly compelled to live and breathe the commandments of the Gospel. Again, perhaps I am off base, but much of the judgmental, fear and anger based vitriol I’ve experienced from religion reminds me more of the clergy of my youth than a mechanism to bring forth the Kingdom of God. Religion has become more of a mechanism for justifying intolerance and judgement than mercy and love.

I miss it sometimes, but I haven’t forgotten that what I’ve learned and understand about faith is contained in some very simple axioms…of which this is primary: to treat even the lowest as if they were Christ, and the understanding that others will know who his disciples are by how they love one another. That kind of living doesn’t depend on a structure…but the simple integrity of living according to the choice I made.

A Year of Faith

As the book of Hebrews says in the New Testament:  “Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen”. I’ve always thought that was a bit of a conundrum, especially since we live in an age where people seem to believe in a ton of “stuff” without ever having seen or have evidence for it period. It seems you can make up anything these days, remain unaccountable for it and still convince a whole lot of people out there to believe it hook, line and sinker. For those of us who believe in God, then, it becomes a whole lot more complicated. For me as a Christian, I wonder, can anyone know what it all really means? While I take no issue with all the different Christian denominations out there, I do take issue with those that seem to contort the essence of the Christian message into one that serves a deeply nefarious purpose…not that anyone should just take my word for it. They should, however, note that every element in the gospels support some simple axioms…many of which have been circumvented by a human desire to use God as a mechanism for power, control and material wealth, i.e. world domination.

Faith can also be complicated, because of the alarming amount of bullshit that I’ve heard some say is part of Scripture’s message when its not. I’ve listened to preachers insist they know the mind of God when it comes to condemning the least among us as righteous, Christian behavior. I’ve listened to another who claimed expertise in eschatology (study of the end times) stating they were a Greek scholar and mangled basic syntax and pronunciation so badly, I couldn’t focus on anything else. I’m frustrated, because it appears, that anyone can claim expertise on God’s word, just because they decided they could. I mean, anyone can become a minister online, for the sake of being an officiant at a wedding, and anyone can start a church. I find that the greatest hubris of our time, especially when I worked my ass off studying theology, and working in ministry and education for years. While I am proud of my academic achievements and efforts in answering what I believe is God’s call, and that faith would lead me down the appropriate road, I also know that I’ve made plenty of wrong turns along the way, enough for me to never tell another human being that they are not what God intended, because we are all gifted with unique talents, and it is up to the individual to figure out how to develop and use them. What I absolutely do know is this: none of us know the mind of God…but based on the expectations that Jesus laid down specifically in his teachings, we should clearly know what action is required of us moving forward.

So. This is my year of faith. And I would venture to say that it is smaller than a mustard seed right now, and according to Jesus that is enough of a start to move a mountain, a hearty goal, but one I embrace nonetheless.

Hope and Hubris

This is a tough one for me. In my mind, hope has always been more than a desire or an expectation or belief in a particular wish fulfillment, it is an expectation that goodness and love will prevail, even if my own actions fall short. Yet, in a world rooted in free will (that’s a discussion for another time) my hope, the anticipation of goodness can and often does run head on into the hubris of others, (seen as an exaggerated pride or self confidence rooted in limited or no real ability). Jesus tells us, for example, that the hubris of the Pharisees is believing themselves to be exceptionally pious or morally superior to others while rejecting core values of compassion, mercy and justice over outward displays of religious devotion.

I am not saying that I never fall into the trappings of hubris, but I certainly have in my past tried to learn from those moments (and the simple fact that I have about a 5 second karmic turnaround). The focus of hope verses hubris at this point in time, is to focus entirely on what core values will move us forward in goodness toward a better future. While my hope does sometimes wain in the face of those who preen with righteous arrogance that the train they are on is limited to just a select few, it is the strength of my faith rooted in my very real belief that there really is only one train, and either we work together on how that train reaches its destination, i.e. a better life on this planet first and then eternal life, or we allow the hubris of those who live in the confidence that only “the certain chosen few” get to ride the train, leaving no one to arrive at our destination.

What those who share in the kind hubris the Pharisees fell victim to results in their inability to see and understand that the world depends on the gifts of a whole lot more than their little group to run smoothly. The focus on a narrow perspective on how the world should run is in complete defiance of the analogy of the body that Paul uses in Corinthians, it acts in defiance of Jesus command that we treat the lowest of those in society as if they were him. It is not rooted in mercy or compassion, but the designation that “some” are not worthy and must be cast out. The hubris in this notion comes when a human being decides that they know the mind of God and can determine, by formula, who is worthy and who is not. It is the purest form of bullshit that exists. Just putting oneself under the umbrella of a religious or righteous person didn’t work for anyone in history who decided they knew what was best for everyone.

And that leads me to hope in true goodness. There have been religious leaders in our human history who did lay claim to greater knowledge, without falling into the trappings of hubris…and it was discovering their true strength lies in being humble over being full of pride. The true test of Christs power is that he faced the tests of his giftedness and was still willing to put that strength aside to make a great sacrifice on our behalf. There is no hubris in a God who loved us enough to die for us in order to save us…even in the face of our own frailty and flaws.

So my hope, while delicate, will reside in watching and supporting those who are compassionate, act with mercy, are humble and acknowledge that we are all on this train together, even when we are not all thrilled about who we have to share a seat with.

Hope and Women

I remember back in college during a theological seminar (was studying academic theology, the female equivalent of seminarian), a seminarian turned in frustration to me in a small group discussion about calls of the Holy Spirit and said quite loudly, “Why can’t you accept the fact that God only wants men to be priests!” And in my unequivocal way, I responded: “Oh, so you have a direct line to the Holy Spirit, do you?” He was disgusted and left the group. I tell this story because I have always felt it is important for girls/women to know that they should follow their calling wherever it takes them, regardless of the opposition others may have to that calling. I fear the tide is turning, though, toward greater opposition to this idea.

I also wrote a paper in graduate school about the obstacles women leaders face by attacks against their characters, often times sexual or intellectual as a mechanism to render their words, actions and relevance null and void. I remember how difficult the meeting with my professor was, not wanting to acknowledge what I thought was well documented paper. He believed it biased because I had way more women in my bibliography than men. I did question whether he compared the gender equality of all bibliographies, and he just got mad, which was stupid of me to say because he gave me a C. I don’t think he quite understood me, so he was surprised when I picked him for one of my panelists when defending my thesis. I won’t go into why, but afterward he went back and changed my grade from a C to an A. I believed, back then anyway, that if I could present something in more of a three dimensional way, perhaps a more female orientation then everyone’s perspective is broadened. In this case I believe I was successful. When I use the past tense in the aforementioned story when I say “back then”, it really means that more people than not used to be open to a greater truth, and new ways of seeing things. (of course many don’t, but there is nothing I can do about those kinds of people). Today, I don’t feel that way anymore.

Lets go back then. Late in his second term, Bill Clinton was impeached for an improper relationship with an intern. I think the outrage went across the aisle on this situation and he was rightly tried. Now, we have a president elect who, by a court of law, by a jury of his peers is found guilty of being a sexual predator (this was a civil, not criminal trial so he is not a sexual offender…legally anyway). Whether you believe it fair or not, his behavior like Clinton’s was established and proven legally. And yet, and these are the posts that gross me out most on social media, are the allegations that Kamala Harris slept her way to the top, which can be factually, on the record dispelled, but still believed because she was deemed not smart enough or qualified to get there on her own. It literally took me seconds to fact check the veracity of those allegations. The generalization here is that men get away with shit, even when they are actually guilty of it, and woman are metaphorically stoned or burned, even when they are not.

There are plenty of places in Christian Scripture where Jesus pushed back against the status quo when men test him on the treatment of women. One important time was when a mob brought a woman caught in adultery (so the mob says) to him in John 8: 3-11

Then the scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery and made her stand in the middle. They said to him, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery. Now in the law, Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say? “They said this to test him, so that they could have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and began to write on the ground with his finger. But when they continued asking him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” Again he bent down and wrote on the ground. And in response, they went away one by one, beginning with the elders. So he was left alone with the woman before him. Then Jesus straightened up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you? She replied, “No one, sir.” Then Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go, (and) from now on do not sin any more.”

The interesting thing in this dynamic is that the man involved in the adulterous situation is nowhere to be seen. I am fully aware of the law at that time, and that women were considered no more than chattel, or property. Jesus, however, did not see her or other women that way. As a matter of fact, time after time Jesus helped and stood for women even when, by all cultural and temple standards, he should not have.

So, here we are. I expect there will be more character assassinations of women, people of color and sexual orientation who will be vilified and have their character questioned whenever their voices, qualities and callings make people in the status quo uncomfortable. In an age where facts just don’t matter as much as self righteous indignation and moral finger pointing (and yes, I am aware it happens on both sides) it does become more difficult to duck stones that come flying at my head. The hope for me comes when the woman walks away from Jesus, free from her accusers condemnation and Jesus saying “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness but will have the light of life”

Hope and Rendering to Caesar

As I was praying yesterday, I was upset at the state of the world at present and this Scripture verse in the Christian New Testament came to mind:

Then the Pharisees went off and plotted how they might entrap him (Jesus) in speech. They sent their disciples to him, with the Herodians, saying, “Teacher, we know that you are a truthful man and that you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth. And you are not concerned with anyone’s opinion, for you do not regard a person’s status. Tell us, then, what is your opinion: Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?” Knowing their malice, Jesus said, “Why are you testing me, you hypocrites? Show me the coin that pays the census tax.” Then they handed him the Roman coin. He said to them, “Whose image is this and whose inscription?” They replied, “Caesar’s.” At that he said to them, “Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.” When they heard this they were amazed, and leaving him they went away. Matthew 22: 16-22

Further down in that chapter, they test him again:

When the Pharisees heard that he had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together, and one of them [a scholar of the law] tested him by asking, “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” He said to him, “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments. Matthew: 22 34-40

Among the multitude of reasons I was upset about the election Tuesday, was the visceral reaction I had to many in our country that have skewed the line between what belongs to Caesar and what belongs to God. I too, like many, said my prayers about the election, but they were directed to God to help us provide a safe and fair one, and I felt glad that my prayers were answered. But thinking that God somehow answered a prayer by delivering the “appropriate” candidate is, in my mind anyway, the most gross hubris of all. I found all the posts, memes and words about answered prayers vulgar and idolatrous. I won’t apologize for that sentiment, because I said the same thing after the last election. Human beings elected a human being that more reflected what their personal desires represent, and not Gods. If you are under the misguided belief God delivered your candidate, and that somehow makes you a better American or person of God, then you are delusional and disavowing what Jesus claims are the two greatest commandments. And for the record? I love God as much as you do…and this country. Winning or losing an election doesn’t change that. We just have very different philosophies on how it should be run. Because I don’t like the president elect doesn’t make me your enemy, I am your neighbor and you are mine. I will never let one man’s hatred misdirect my love for God and neighbor, because love will always come first.

I also feel compelled to add another caveat that underlined my frustration, with those who are so concerned about the economy and money as the reason they voted as they did. Jesus told his followers a parable about a rich man who compiled and hoarded his riches so he could eat, drink and be merry for years, but then God told the rich man that this night would be his last night, and what good would his riches be then. Jesus responded to the disciples:

Thus will it be for the one who stores up treasure for themselves but are not rich in what matters to God.” He said to (his) disciples, “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life and what you will eat, or about your body and what you will wear. For life is more than food and the body more than clothing. Notice the ravens: they do not sow or reap; they have neither storehouse nor barn, yet God feeds them. How much more important are you than birds! Can any of you by worrying add a moment to your lifespan? If even the smallest things are beyond your control, why are you anxious about the rest? Notice how the flowers grow. They do not toil or spin. But I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of them. If God so clothes the grass in the field that grows today and is thrown into the oven tomorrow, will he not much more provide for you, O you of little faith? As for you, do not seek what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not worry anymore. All the nations of the world seek for these things, and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, seek his kingdom, and these other things will be given you besides. Do not be afraid any longer, little flock, for your Father is pleased to give you the kingdom. Sell your belongings and give alms. Provide money bags for yourselves that do not wear out, an inexhaustible treasure in heaven that no thief can reach nor moth destroy. For where your treasure is, there also will your heart be.

I fully understand how hard times are right now, as a health clinic who fought their way through COVID only to struggle again because of Steve’s accident, and health challenges of my own, I live with struggles everyday enough to empathize with all those whose struggles weigh them down too, and often are far weightier than mine. However, in hindsight, just like Jesus taught, I do make it through one day at a time, and are so very thankful my treasures lie in family (biological and created), friends and patients who exercise love for neighbor every day and a God who augments my fragile human heart in every breath.

I don’t mean to infer that we simply twiddle our thumbs and allow the world to just roll on. I won’t do that. I will continue to demand, in my own way, that the whole American body of which I am a small part be served, and that laws, and structures of this great American experiment continue to ensure that this country evolves as we approach the future, and that the pursuit of freedom and happiness continues for all.

Hope and Forgiveness

I know many minds are made up and I really get it…but when I heard Mr. Trump say that he would be women’s protector whether they liked it or not, and also had Brett Farve ( who is being investigated for welfare fraud in the tune of 77 million dollars and was fined by the NFL 160,000 for not cooperating in sexting scandal) speak at his rally, I thought it pertinent to add my perspective on the matter, because there is always potential for gaining insight for the future. I’ve been up against a patriarchy a time or two in my lifetime and career and have met plenty of men who thought it was their duty to act on my behalf (in this I’m not including my father or my husband, because it just makes sense that they embraced that duty, not because I’m incompetent, but because they had my back). The men I’m speaking about were varied, some turned out to be sexual predators legally named, employees who left in disgrace after spreading lies, and some were brilliant men who did not see me or hear me because I was a woman. Before you label me someone who has a bias against men…I don’t. I married one, and raised two amazing men. I’m only speaking about the men who crossed my path that thought by divine right, whether it be by nature or God, that as a women I was somehow subservient to them and should have limited or no access to roles that are afforded to men. I thought long and hard about revealing the actual stories, but I came to realize that those experiences were for me and my evolution and not anyone else’s validation. Because in truth, whether or not you believe me is immaterial at this point, because the most powerful thing I learned from all my experiences is that I don’t need anyone’s approval, understanding or endorsement of my life struggles, especially if it is the truth, and I benefited from the experience end of story.

But what I will tell you what I learned early on in my career is that I had to be better, smarter and more moral (I worked in ministry) than any of my counterparts because of my vulnerabilities…I was attractive, smart, driven and ambitious. I was also tired of the often authoritarian and draconian holds on ministry, and often fought to my detriment to move the needle forward, importantly, because I knew the high regard Jesus had of the women in his life, and amazingly, he let them make their own choices (the Samaritan woman at the well, Mary, Martha’s sister, the woman caught in adultery etc). This is not to say that I never made mistakes, because obviously I have…but I learned pretty quickly that the vast majority of those in the patriarchy I worked for had no fucking clue what was best for me, or even bothered to ask.

Back in 1973 when the Roe decision came down, I wore a bracelet reminding me to pray everyday for those unborn babies. I was 13 years old at the time, and was at the beginning of my relationship with my God. I wore it until it broke one day, and I take that as a symbol that as I matured and grew to understand more about the world, I realized the Roe decision was more about controlling women than it was to protect life. If you check all the statistics and equitable changes for women, it supports that conclusion. For example, in 1974, the Equal Credit Opportunity Act was passed where woman FOR THE FIRST TIME in history could get a bank account, credit card and loans, and housing and mortgages in their own name without their father or husband’s name or approval. I also learned that the Roe decision drastically improved maternal mortality for women and improved women’s health in general. More importantly it led me to embrace the firm belief that while I still held life in the womb as sacred, it would never be in the best interests of any woman to put her life in the hands of the government, or men who had no place making such a personal decision in a woman’s life. I’ve come to know plenty of women who were put in a horrible place of getting an abortion, and not one of them was cavalier about it or used it for birth control.

For me, I simply made the decision to wait until I was in my forever relationship to have sex. Regardless of how the world had grown to accept sex before marriage in the eighties and nineties, I knew that I was held to a different standard. Let me tell you it was a deal breaker for most of the men I dated. But as I said I was ambitious, and felt called to my ministry and did what was necessary to not only stand for my beliefs, but act in a way that no one could use said behavior, regardless of whether or not that behavior was acceptable pretty much everywhere else against me. The tragedy, though, was that often time perception is reality, and my commitment to “purity” didn’t matter to the people who wanted my silence, or try to force me to behave in a way that I felt was improper or simply just not like me. People believe what they believe and often take great pleasure in spreading lies and innuendo, but I still knew the truth. So when I hear someone like Donald Trump, a convicted sex offender tell the world he will protect women whether they like it or not, I feel sick to my stomach, and I call bullshit…because ladies? I can’t tell you how many of those same kind of men told me the same thing and were more concerned with “changing my mind” or controlling me.

So why did I entitle this piece, Hope and Forgiveness? Because in order for me and many women to move forward and trust their own strength again, forgiveness is an essential ingredient in moving forward towards a more hopeful future. Jesus said that we must forgive in order to be forgiven, seven times seventy, he said. I truly believe that is because when you hold onto transgressions committed against you, they eat you alive, and limit your power and ability to use your gifts to spread good ripples out into the world. I forgave my transgressors a long time ago, and it is freeing and strengthening experience. I also believe forgiveness is essential in standing strong and presenting a more loving society to our children for the future where we work to protect each other.

Hope and Blame

God I’m tired of it…all the lies, and the blame. In Jesus’ time it was the lepers, the prostitutes, the poor, all of them deemed “unclean”. Today, the list of those targeted as unclean is even longer because our access to information is so much more widespread, and with that comes an even deeper vitriol, because we can hate them from afar in perfect anonymity. It appears that as people of faith we have not yet mastered the basic tenets of behavior required of us. “Judge not, lest ye be judged”, Jesus said, “Why do you notice the splinter in your brother or sister’s eye, but do not perceive the beam in your own eye” he said. “Amen I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me” he said. “I will tell you, on the day of judgement people will render an account for every careless word they speak. By your words you will be acquitted and by your words you will be condemned” he said. And most importantly? Jesus said: “you shall love your neighbor as yourself” And when asked who our neighbor is, he told them the parable of the good Samaritan, which briefly is a story about a victim of a robbery who is passed by those who hold high rank and esteem in society, and yet it is one of the unclean of the time who helps him. When asked who the “neighbor” was in this story, Jesus replied, “the one who treated him with mercy”

So I think there is a pretty clear expectation of how we are supposed to respond to each other as people of faith in this time. More importantly, the behavior I described above is foundational for anyone in a leadership role, and not just in a religious sense. Empathy, careful choice of words, discerning judgement, objectivity and most importantly mercy is what I am looking for in my future leaders…not those who lie and blame others for our difficulties. The quality of character should be forefront in moving forward in choosing who to lead. Checking the veracity of the plethora of nasty tropes out there isn’t that hard, even a child can google. And if you choose to stay in your bubble or go down a rabbit hole because it appeases your bias, your own personal algorithm that is your choice. But, and this is a big one for people of faith…the one thing highlighted and despised by the most of the religions of the world….HYPOCRISY. Read Matthew 23 in the Christian gospel just to see how much Jesus despised it

I would think this would be obvious to people, but the level of growing rage against those who are different, or lesser than, renders me speechless. The hope moving forward, for me anyway, lies in letting go of blame, and embracing those who better emulate those qualities taught to me, mercy, compassion, truth and loving my neighbor.

Just Plain Hope

As my pic, I chose a work in progress of Kamala Harris…one that I haven’t and probably won’t share on other social media sites (except for maybe the campaign…as a donation). Why? because I am so tired of the nastiness of the behavior for having the audacity to choose a side, and her ticket gives me hope, and a reprieve from all the name-calling, mistruths and fear mongering from the other side. Of course, we live in troubled times, BUT I think there is a responsible and hopeful way to go about change…change which will be frustrating for EVERYONE, because it means that no one will get everything that they want, and compromise is hard but necessary moving toward the future. And, I fear that those who don’t want change, have the misguided belief that their candidate can stop it from happening. Change is inevitable, evolution, however, is not. Evolution is never easy, because it means adapting to new circumstances, something many are too uncomfortable with. An underlying belief that I hold is that those who refuse to move forward and adapt, ,will simply never evolve, and their “fig tree” (an allusion to the gospel) will wither and die without bearing fruit. Hope in all people and things, and for me, God as a reliant support is rooted in my ability to continue to bear good fruit.

More importantly, for me anyway, I have recognized my personal bias at this point in history. I am tired of the misogyny prevalent today that somehow infers that woman are incapable of not only determining their own lives, but creating a better way forward for everyone than men do. I also believe that a man who has no ability to own up to, and suffer the consequences of his own behavior and chooses to instead vilify others, women, minority groups and any and all who disagree with him is not equipped to move us into a better future.

Kamala and Tim and their whole campaign gives me hope…not because they are perfect, but because they are willing to move ahead and adapt to a wildly changing future all within all the altruism that has kept this American experiment moving and adapting into the future.

Hope in Hand

More than ever, we live in a time where we have limited or no control over how people ingest information. Also more than ever, we have so many unknown sources whose soul purpose is to confuse, conflate and corrupt information for nefarious purposes. I know I sound paranoid, but as a daughter of an English teacher who demanded that when writing a research paper, I had better have at least three or four credible sources in my bibliography to support a quote or text, or I COULD NOT include it into my paper. I remember being on the end of his chastisement when I tried to sneak some things into a paper I wrote on Moby Dick, (and as a sophomore, I felt I should of at least had acknowledgement that I read the damn book when everyone else read the cliff notes). I still hear him in my head when I digest all that is going on in the world, but that is just me. I realize not a lot of people think like I do.

So then, where do we go? I have decided to continue to move forward with hope in hand, and spread the joy of that hope outward. I may not be able to change one single mind, and I guess I am coming to peace with that. However, I will continue to press forward for truth, accuracy and celebrate the good people I interact with every day. I will continue to send out good ripples, whether it is through art, kindness or the myriad of ways I interact with people everyday, and if I am judged, or misconstrued, I will be content that I have no control over that, but it is with joy that I put things out into the world.

I am calmer than I have been in a long time because I have left the burden of trying to explain, justify, or convince someone of my motivation, especially for those who either don’t really know me, or don’t really want to…its just too hard. So I move forward, checking my sources and my own motivation and breathe so much more calmly than I have lately and feel greater hope expressed in the world.