as some of you reading this blog know, i officiated a wedding for the first time this past weekend! my favorite auntie married her beau/best friend, and i was given the absolute privilege and honor to compose and preside over a wedding liturgy for them. i've known about this role for months, but it wasn't until the final days of preparation that the profundity of wedding vows and the wedding covenant really hit me. sure, i've attended plenty of weddings , watched them on TV, flipped thru bridal magazines and dreamed about dresses and flowers and shoes, oh my! but, none of that compared to the heartwarming and humbling experience it was for me to reflect, write, and MARRY two ppl who have chosen to become one.
i can honestly say that when i set out on this endeavor, i had no idea where to begin, so, as is my norm, i did some research. i picked up a book of wedding vows that spanned the spectrum from very traditional/religious to actual examples of personalized vows that other couples had written and agreed to submit to the publishers as 'prompts' for those of us who needed some ideas. every Christian denomination was represented, as well as non-denominational vows, readings from Shakespeare and other classics, and blessings from Eastern faiths. the book was all-inclusive and gave me a plethora of ideas to start with. along with the book, i also did some internet searches to piece together just the right elements for the ceremony.
the bride asked me to pick out some things that i thought would 'fit' them since i know them so well, and to bring them to the meeting that i scheduled with her and her fiance. i did just that, we had a great meeting and i walked away with the skeleton of the ceremony complete, and only the sermon--which would be a surprise for them--to write. my aunt is very spiritual and her beau is not-so-much, so my main concern was designing a ceremony that would be inclusive and comfortable for the both of them, reflective of their love story, their personalities, and their beliefs.
as i sat and put the final touches on the vows and sermon (aptly called "The Marathon of Marriage"--both my aunt and her new hubby are track-and-field athletes and their love story began as high school coaches), i had a 'smack-me-in-the-face' moment: this marriage stuff is SERIOUS business and NOT a punk sport! prior to me performing the ceremony, of course i knew that marriage was serious, etc...but, there's something decidedly different when you're typing out the vows and putting the puzzle together. as i burned the midnight oil and had my 'moment', i sent a message to a friend who is engaged and said, 'this marriage vow stuff is SERIOUS!" she agreed. i can't quite explain it judiciously on this blog, but, for me, as a single, unmarried woman (who, most days, hopes to get married one day, LOL), it was very profound.
the ceremony turned out beautifully! i prepared a very spiritual, inclusive, ecumenical liturgy that both the bride and groom were extremely happy with. i was tremendously humbled by the guests who came up after the wedding and told me how much the ceremony and the sermon touched them. most of all, i was honored that my aunt and [new] uncle thought enough of me and trusted me to play such a major role in their special day. we had beautiful weather, beautiful music, beautiful words, beautiful ppl--God was there, and love was washing over everyone!
i'd also like to give a special THANK YOU to all of you who knew about my impending role and sent me words of encouragement leading up to, and on the day of, the wedding. getting those FB messages, texts, BBMs, etc while i was running around getting hair/makeup together, putting last minute touches on PC's flower girl ensemble, and just trying to get my mind right, really helped to calm a sista's nerves! I felt each and every one of your prayers and kind words while i stood there, refusing to look at my aunt, lest i break down and cry (you know how I do, lol!).
love is now :)
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Sunday, June 20, 2010
what a surprise!
the 3rd Saturday in June--Father's Day--is drawing to a close, and i can truly say that it has been a memorable one, unlike any that i've ever experienced below. for the last few years, i've dreaded this day. having made peace w/ the absence of my father years ago, it was just another day to me...until my own daughter came along. saddled with my own grief/guilt about her absent father, i have found it increasingly difficult to face this day for the past 3 years. this year was no different. the date was looming on the calendar for a while and when i knew that i would be back in town (i kept thinking that it was on the 13th instead of the 20th and that i would not be here), i kept negotiating with myself about whether to go to church or not. every year, our Dance Ministry does a daddy/daughter dance, usually to 'Dance w/ My Father' by Luther Vandross, and i usually break everytime. i really wasn't looking fwd to experiencing that, but had pretty much made up my mind that i needed to hear a Word from God, so, i was going to press my way and go, and face whatever was there.
i did make it thru the actual day without crying, but an incident yesterday broke my heart. PC and i were at a birthday party, and she was playing with a toy and couldn't get it to work. she handed it to one of the dads that was at the party, randomly, and a little boy ran up and yelled at her 'that's MY daddy!!" the dad was obviously embarassed and gently scolded his son, while i just grabbed the toy and herded her away. later, driving home, as i thought about it, i cried--for all of the usual reasons--and figured that i'd be in for much more.
we went to church this morning and had a wonderful time as usual, enveloped by the love and Spirit that rests in our church & with our church family. i was doing ok, no tears, no breakdowns, and then my phone started ringing (silently). the person called back- to- back 3 times--from an unfamiliar number with a Cleveland area code. at first, i thought it was my biodad. he has a tendency to call on holidays-- father's day, my birthday, his birthday-- and leave reverse-psychology, guilt-trip voicemails that i never return. in this instance, however, the person didn't leave a message. later in the service, i checked my phone to see if they had called again and discovered that i had a text message. the message said 'this is your sister. i tried calling you. please call me back.' i was confused. my sister? i don't have any siblings, to my knowledge. i figured that the person had the wrong number. i responded and said 'who?' and she gave me her name. i told her that i thought that she had the wrong number, to which she proceeded to ask me if Biodad was my father and, if so, he was her father too. at this point, i'm completely knocked off kilter. who IS this person? where did she come from? how did she get my info? how old is she? why did i never know about her? a million questions were running thru my head, questions that wouldn't be answered until i spoke to her after church.
we spoke by phone and i learned that i have a baby (7 yrs younger than me!) sister that always knew about me and wanted to meet me, but would always get the runaround from our father. Baby Sis has little-no relationship with BioDad, but runs into him from time to time. recently, she saw him and mentioned that she was moving to Chicago and he told her i was here. she asked for my number and finally, after years of asking, he provided it. Baby Sis knew very little about me (and what he told her about the nature of my relationship w/ him, etc was a lie) and has never had the privilege of meeting her paternal grandmother or aunts, all of whom i was raised around and am very close to, despite my estrangement w/ Biodad.. she has another sister who lives here in Chicago and attends Columbia College and she will be moving in with until she gets on her feet.
she is moving to Chicago this week, and we have made plans to meet. we friended each other on FB today and looking at her pictures was an out-of-body experience for me. i've been trying to wrap my mind around this whole concept all day--of having a sibling that i never knew about, what that means, what our relationship will look like, etc. it is scary, exciting, nerve-wracking, confusing, and shocking all rolled into one!
there is much more to the 'backstory'--some things that she shared and more that we will share as we get to know each other. i'm not quite sure why, on today of ALL days, that this happened--but I am waiting w/ a feeling of expectancy to see what will be on the other side of this.
for all of the pain that Father's Day usually represents to me, this was a pleasant and welcome departure.
i did make it thru the actual day without crying, but an incident yesterday broke my heart. PC and i were at a birthday party, and she was playing with a toy and couldn't get it to work. she handed it to one of the dads that was at the party, randomly, and a little boy ran up and yelled at her 'that's MY daddy!!" the dad was obviously embarassed and gently scolded his son, while i just grabbed the toy and herded her away. later, driving home, as i thought about it, i cried--for all of the usual reasons--and figured that i'd be in for much more.
we went to church this morning and had a wonderful time as usual, enveloped by the love and Spirit that rests in our church & with our church family. i was doing ok, no tears, no breakdowns, and then my phone started ringing (silently). the person called back- to- back 3 times--from an unfamiliar number with a Cleveland area code. at first, i thought it was my biodad. he has a tendency to call on holidays-- father's day, my birthday, his birthday-- and leave reverse-psychology, guilt-trip voicemails that i never return. in this instance, however, the person didn't leave a message. later in the service, i checked my phone to see if they had called again and discovered that i had a text message. the message said 'this is your sister. i tried calling you. please call me back.' i was confused. my sister? i don't have any siblings, to my knowledge. i figured that the person had the wrong number. i responded and said 'who?' and she gave me her name. i told her that i thought that she had the wrong number, to which she proceeded to ask me if Biodad was my father and, if so, he was her father too. at this point, i'm completely knocked off kilter. who IS this person? where did she come from? how did she get my info? how old is she? why did i never know about her? a million questions were running thru my head, questions that wouldn't be answered until i spoke to her after church.
we spoke by phone and i learned that i have a baby (7 yrs younger than me!) sister that always knew about me and wanted to meet me, but would always get the runaround from our father. Baby Sis has little-no relationship with BioDad, but runs into him from time to time. recently, she saw him and mentioned that she was moving to Chicago and he told her i was here. she asked for my number and finally, after years of asking, he provided it. Baby Sis knew very little about me (and what he told her about the nature of my relationship w/ him, etc was a lie) and has never had the privilege of meeting her paternal grandmother or aunts, all of whom i was raised around and am very close to, despite my estrangement w/ Biodad.. she has another sister who lives here in Chicago and attends Columbia College and she will be moving in with until she gets on her feet.
she is moving to Chicago this week, and we have made plans to meet. we friended each other on FB today and looking at her pictures was an out-of-body experience for me. i've been trying to wrap my mind around this whole concept all day--of having a sibling that i never knew about, what that means, what our relationship will look like, etc. it is scary, exciting, nerve-wracking, confusing, and shocking all rolled into one!
there is much more to the 'backstory'--some things that she shared and more that we will share as we get to know each other. i'm not quite sure why, on today of ALL days, that this happened--but I am waiting w/ a feeling of expectancy to see what will be on the other side of this.
for all of the pain that Father's Day usually represents to me, this was a pleasant and welcome departure.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
blessed to be a blessing...
when i lost my job 8 months ago, it didn't come as a shocker. the writing had been on the wall for a while and i was mentally exhausted with the 80 hour work weeks and red tape. after the initial shock, i actually felt a tremendous sense of liberation, a feeling that has continued to propel me forward in pursuing my dreams, even in the midst of swift transition. prior to losing my job, my biggest fear was not the loss of the job or the economic security of a healthy paycheck, great health care benefits, and generous Paid Time Off. though it was inevitable that those things would pass away if the job was no more, i was more concerned about an additional perk that would also be a casualty of a job loss: my company car. for over a year, i had driven a car practically expense-free, gas and maintenance paid for with a simple swipe of the corporate credit card. i knew that losing my job would also mean a drastic change to my financial situation and i was very aware that i was not financially willing or able to purchase a replacement. so, i worried and worried about this worst-case scenario.
and, lo and behold, it came true.
something that i had taken for granted for so long--having a car--was suddenly gone, and i was forced to learn to live without and to adjust accordingly.
and, i (we) did. thankfully, we live in a city where public transportation is wonderful. our house is one block from the El, and PC's school is just 3 short stops from home. during this time of change, we took the bus and train everywhere--to school (both hers and mine), to friend's houses, to church (3hrs round-trip each Sunday), and to all of the places that we love to "play" in and around all the neighborhoods of Chicago. i felt the anxiety for myself that i had only read about in the past when the CTA threatened to raise rates by a large amount. i dealt with the frustration of standing on train platforms when the service cuts reduced or eliminated service at certain times. i adjusted my schedule when i knew that it was too late for me to be riding home alone--i made do. i rarely complained, and PC NEVER complained, and it became a way of life for us, and our norm.
i learned to appreciate not sitting in traffic, worrying about parking, monitoring gas prices, or making sure i had enough money for the toll. i looked at living in public-transportation-centric Chicago as a tremendous blessing, and i made up in my mind that i'd probably never endeavor to buy a car again--atleast not anytime. being 'carless' was doable...and though sometimes inconvenient or requiring of additional planning, i was content.
today, i was blessed with a car. completely surprised and shocked, completely caught off guard, i (we) were given a car. as the keys were handed to me by the Angel who provided this blessing, i could do nothing but weep. this car is something that i neither asked for nor wished for, but something that God saw fit for me to have, thanks to the goodness of another who wanted to do nothing more but to bless me and my child.
the weep came from the pit of my soul--as everything has shifted in my life over the past year, i have been challenged to look at my dependency on things and on people....i have had to readjust, change my perspective, grow closer in some areas, and fall back in others. it has not been easy and some changes, though necessary, have been very hard and very painful for me, and i am still yet working thru. but, in the midst of all of this, i have continually been presented with opportunities to grow in contentment....not complacency, but contentment--making the most of a situation, and trusting in Him to fill in the blanks.
the winter was tough....i remember remarking to a friend on one of the first warm days of spring "i used to think to myself if we can just make it thru the winter, we'll be okay." and we did.
i know that any blessing that we receive is not just for us to hog, but it is for us to share. a close friend told me that many years ago, she was having some financial problems and was on the brink of losing her car. thinking that the financing company wasn't going to work with her, she had resigned within herself that the car would be gone and that she would walk her son to school and herself to work daily. ultimately, the finance company did work with her and she was able to keep her car, and she vowed that the car would be used for the glory of God from that point on. that she would use it to be a blessing to others: rides to and from church, dr's appts, etc...whatever it was that they needed, if she had it, she would do. she realized that it was only b/c of His grace that she still had the vehicle, and that she owed Him to be a better steward over that gift.
i hope to follow in that example. over these past 8 months, i have experienced what it's like to have a ride or to be offered one.... to not have one....to ask for one and be refused and/or given one begrudgingly..or to be afraid of asking for one as to not be a burden. though it makes my heart glad to now have the 'luxury' of having a car (especially in the cold winter months), i know that there is more to it than just that. i know that there is more that He requires of me. i was faithful over a few things...and He gave me more. that is a debt that i will never be able to cancel out fully--but i will do my best to pay it forward until i cannot anymore.
'...for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances that I am in. I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.'
(Phillipians 4:11-13 NASB)
and, lo and behold, it came true.
something that i had taken for granted for so long--having a car--was suddenly gone, and i was forced to learn to live without and to adjust accordingly.
and, i (we) did. thankfully, we live in a city where public transportation is wonderful. our house is one block from the El, and PC's school is just 3 short stops from home. during this time of change, we took the bus and train everywhere--to school (both hers and mine), to friend's houses, to church (3hrs round-trip each Sunday), and to all of the places that we love to "play" in and around all the neighborhoods of Chicago. i felt the anxiety for myself that i had only read about in the past when the CTA threatened to raise rates by a large amount. i dealt with the frustration of standing on train platforms when the service cuts reduced or eliminated service at certain times. i adjusted my schedule when i knew that it was too late for me to be riding home alone--i made do. i rarely complained, and PC NEVER complained, and it became a way of life for us, and our norm.
i learned to appreciate not sitting in traffic, worrying about parking, monitoring gas prices, or making sure i had enough money for the toll. i looked at living in public-transportation-centric Chicago as a tremendous blessing, and i made up in my mind that i'd probably never endeavor to buy a car again--atleast not anytime. being 'carless' was doable...and though sometimes inconvenient or requiring of additional planning, i was content.
today, i was blessed with a car. completely surprised and shocked, completely caught off guard, i (we) were given a car. as the keys were handed to me by the Angel who provided this blessing, i could do nothing but weep. this car is something that i neither asked for nor wished for, but something that God saw fit for me to have, thanks to the goodness of another who wanted to do nothing more but to bless me and my child.
the weep came from the pit of my soul--as everything has shifted in my life over the past year, i have been challenged to look at my dependency on things and on people....i have had to readjust, change my perspective, grow closer in some areas, and fall back in others. it has not been easy and some changes, though necessary, have been very hard and very painful for me, and i am still yet working thru. but, in the midst of all of this, i have continually been presented with opportunities to grow in contentment....not complacency, but contentment--making the most of a situation, and trusting in Him to fill in the blanks.
the winter was tough....i remember remarking to a friend on one of the first warm days of spring "i used to think to myself if we can just make it thru the winter, we'll be okay." and we did.
i know that any blessing that we receive is not just for us to hog, but it is for us to share. a close friend told me that many years ago, she was having some financial problems and was on the brink of losing her car. thinking that the financing company wasn't going to work with her, she had resigned within herself that the car would be gone and that she would walk her son to school and herself to work daily. ultimately, the finance company did work with her and she was able to keep her car, and she vowed that the car would be used for the glory of God from that point on. that she would use it to be a blessing to others: rides to and from church, dr's appts, etc...whatever it was that they needed, if she had it, she would do. she realized that it was only b/c of His grace that she still had the vehicle, and that she owed Him to be a better steward over that gift.
i hope to follow in that example. over these past 8 months, i have experienced what it's like to have a ride or to be offered one.... to not have one....to ask for one and be refused and/or given one begrudgingly..or to be afraid of asking for one as to not be a burden. though it makes my heart glad to now have the 'luxury' of having a car (especially in the cold winter months), i know that there is more to it than just that. i know that there is more that He requires of me. i was faithful over a few things...and He gave me more. that is a debt that i will never be able to cancel out fully--but i will do my best to pay it forward until i cannot anymore.
'...for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances that I am in. I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.'
(Phillipians 4:11-13 NASB)
Thursday, June 10, 2010
home stretch
hi, everyone--
today, i said goodbye to the seniors that i have grown to love like family over the past 2 weeks. i hate goodbyes and i am a crybaby, so i tried to bite my quivering lips and blink reallllly hard to keep the tears at bay...unfortunately, i was unsuccessful!! as i walked around to each table to hug them goodbye, the words of love and encouragement that they expressed to me made my heart swell with joy and humility. it was an absolute joy to see their faces everyday and to serve them, and i will miss them all so much.
i have learned so much about myself on this trip. i set out on my journey to Greenville thinking that it would just be 2 weeks of volunteering....i am leaving here on Saturday with much more: lifelong lessons about faith, about hope, about love, about endurance, about the joy that comes from sorrow, and the freedom that comes from letting go.
So much has happened...so much has been revealed...so much has been made clear during my time here. As soon as I have settled back into life on IL soil and collected my thoughts, i will have a comprehensive 'debrief' for all of you. I appreciate your love, your laughter, your prayers, and most of all, your 'eyes' reading this blog and sharing in the journey with me.
~KW
today, i said goodbye to the seniors that i have grown to love like family over the past 2 weeks. i hate goodbyes and i am a crybaby, so i tried to bite my quivering lips and blink reallllly hard to keep the tears at bay...unfortunately, i was unsuccessful!! as i walked around to each table to hug them goodbye, the words of love and encouragement that they expressed to me made my heart swell with joy and humility. it was an absolute joy to see their faces everyday and to serve them, and i will miss them all so much.
i have learned so much about myself on this trip. i set out on my journey to Greenville thinking that it would just be 2 weeks of volunteering....i am leaving here on Saturday with much more: lifelong lessons about faith, about hope, about love, about endurance, about the joy that comes from sorrow, and the freedom that comes from letting go.
So much has happened...so much has been revealed...so much has been made clear during my time here. As soon as I have settled back into life on IL soil and collected my thoughts, i will have a comprehensive 'debrief' for all of you. I appreciate your love, your laughter, your prayers, and most of all, your 'eyes' reading this blog and sharing in the journey with me.
~KW
Monday, June 7, 2010
on being 'othered'
Yesterday evening, I returned to Greenville after a 3-day retreat in the Charleston/Folly Beach area. After a great workweek at the Sterling Center simultaneously juxtaposed with a faith-stretching week in my SC living situation, I woke up Friday morning slightly less-than enthused. I am in the midst of a self-imposed, Spirit-led spiritual detox (which I will discuss in detail in a later post) whose timing has been a bit 'interesting' with my trip here, and it has me, as the saying goes, 'in my head' a LOT. When I'm 'on' at work, I'm completely engrossed in the task at hand and loving every minute of it, however, at the end of the day, I had wanted to be mostly just with myself--relaxing, reflecting, reading, writing, just decompressing--and I had not been effectively able to achieve that without getting some flak from my living companion. By Friday, my nerves were completely shot and I had pretty much shut down--so much for a nice trip the beach, right? But, off I went to uncharted waters, hoping to see what I might learn about myself and about the others who would be joining me.
I knew that the weekend was going to be interesting very soon after I arrived. I was staying with the Sister who is housing me while I am here, and seven of her friends who are all lay men and women, studying to be Associates to the Franciscans. This group was all Caucasian, Catholic, and 60+ years old--some widowers, some divorced, and one married couple attended. The demographics of the group didn't make me feel uncomfortable as I have friends of all races, ages and denominations (and I attend a Jesuit seminary!), but the feeling of being 'othered' from the moment I walked in the door did not make for a pleasant experience.
The owner of the house, a white woman, was funny, smart, and absolutely hospitable and the epitome of southern gentility. However, every conversation she initiated with me throughout the weekend began from a place of race. It started with her finding out I was from Chicago and asking me if I knew the Obamas, telling me that I resembled Michelle (which I don't), and it continued further. If I was already involved in a group conversation, this didn't become an issue, but if she and I just happened to chat, she'd strike up a conversation with the first sentence sounding something like this:
'Do you know the artist Jonathan Greene? He's a black artist from this area and he paints all of these wonderful pictures.'
'I recently went to the Black Madonna exhibit at the art museum.'
'You know, Black churches sure do support women preachers.' (this was after I was asked what 'religion' I was by another attendee, and they found out I was not only NOT a Catholic, but also a seminarian).
'I love going to the fruit stands and buying all of the fresh, local produce from the Black ladies who sell it.'
'Black women and their parasols, they sure are smarter than us about keeping the sun off of them.'
Now, remember, these were not comments made in the context of an already active conversation--no, these were supposed to be conversation starters, as if she could find nothing else to talk about with me or that we had in common, other than to qualify it by it being somehow related to my race.
Suffice it to say, I already don't like the South, not even to visit. I don't like seeing Confederate flags hanging on houses and cars casually (which I saw on more than one home on the street that the beachhouse was on). I don't like to be anywhere where visiting plantations is an acceptable tourist attraction. I don't care for all of the blatantly racist political ads that I've seen on TV regarding 'illegal' immigrants since I've been here (the state primary election is tomorrow), and I am bothered everytime that I think about the fact that the Sterling Center is built on the ruins of Greenville's 'black' high school which was burned down in the late 60s, with arsonists who were never brought to justice. We have race issues everywhere, this I know, but something about being in the South makes me extremely uncomfortable. The beachhouse incidents confirmed that for me.
Even though I am currently a ministry student at a Jesuit institution, I have never attended a Catholic Mass. I have staunch oppositional opinions to the idea of a closed Eucharist, so because I believe that all should be able to receive of the Lord's Table, I only attend churches who share in that philosophy. On Saturday evening, one of our activities was to attend Mass at one of the local Catholic churches in Folly Beach. Despite my reservations, I decided to be a good sport and go along (we also had dinner plans afterwards and had I not attended church, I would not have had a ride to the restaurant). In being a good sport, I had hopes that my spirit would be filled by the beautiful liturgy, that my mind would be renewed with a fresh Word, and that the Eucharist issue wouldn't bother me so much.
Unfortunately, that didn't happen. Everything at Saturday's Mass revolved around the Eucharist, including the sermon. Not being able to partake of it in good conscience (this was neither the time nor the place for me to make a political statement and just 'do it anyway') was disconcerting. Coupled with all that had been going on at the house and leading up to the trip, I was tapped out, however, I didn't quite know what to call that feeling until further reflection last night.
Some of you reading this may be wondering what, if anything, I said to the beachhouse owner about her conversation starters. The truthful answer is not much. I engaged the conversations from an extremely surface-level and kept it moving. To be honest, going through this difficult period of detox had shown me that, atleast at that time, I was completely drained of the desire for teachable moments/come-to-Jesus convos with people who could likely care less. Being someone who internally grieves almost to the point of obsession when I hurt or offend someone (even if not immediately expressed), I had grown weary of the lack of reciprocity when the roles were reversed...so, I decided to chose my battles and cut my losses at Folly Beach. I knew that there was a teachable moment in all of this for me, and I got the revelation upon my return to Greenville.
Last night, I thought about the concept of 'othering' and how I had been 'othered' all weekend in the scenario at the beach. It occured to me as I reflected on my work here in SC, everytime I've been introduced to a group that I am working with, Sister has made emphasis that I am here to do volunteer work with the poor. One day last week after having had a number of conversations with the seniors at the center, I realized an important fact: many are poor, but some are not...and at the end of the day, I wondered if those that were poor appreciated being reminded of that fact everytime a volunteer showed up. It felt to me very much like 'othering,' and I was extremely convicted about that--I want the focus of my time here to be service to all and for me to learn. I feel that I have very little to teach them, while I have much, much more to learn, as I sit at their feet and they share with me, day in and day out.
This weekend, I was 'othered,'--I was constantly reminded of my Blackness (of which I am very proud) in a group of the Majority, when instead I would have preferred to just be accepted as part of the whole. I, a baptized Christian, was 'othered' in a church that proclaims to love and serve the same Lord that I do. Ultimately, I am satisfied with my response--one of introspection vs. confrontation--which caused me to evaluate and to correct the 'othering' that I may participate in in my own life.
For that, I am most grateful.
I knew that the weekend was going to be interesting very soon after I arrived. I was staying with the Sister who is housing me while I am here, and seven of her friends who are all lay men and women, studying to be Associates to the Franciscans. This group was all Caucasian, Catholic, and 60+ years old--some widowers, some divorced, and one married couple attended. The demographics of the group didn't make me feel uncomfortable as I have friends of all races, ages and denominations (and I attend a Jesuit seminary!), but the feeling of being 'othered' from the moment I walked in the door did not make for a pleasant experience.
The owner of the house, a white woman, was funny, smart, and absolutely hospitable and the epitome of southern gentility. However, every conversation she initiated with me throughout the weekend began from a place of race. It started with her finding out I was from Chicago and asking me if I knew the Obamas, telling me that I resembled Michelle (which I don't), and it continued further. If I was already involved in a group conversation, this didn't become an issue, but if she and I just happened to chat, she'd strike up a conversation with the first sentence sounding something like this:
'Do you know the artist Jonathan Greene? He's a black artist from this area and he paints all of these wonderful pictures.'
'I recently went to the Black Madonna exhibit at the art museum.'
'You know, Black churches sure do support women preachers.' (this was after I was asked what 'religion' I was by another attendee, and they found out I was not only NOT a Catholic, but also a seminarian).
'I love going to the fruit stands and buying all of the fresh, local produce from the Black ladies who sell it.'
'Black women and their parasols, they sure are smarter than us about keeping the sun off of them.'
Now, remember, these were not comments made in the context of an already active conversation--no, these were supposed to be conversation starters, as if she could find nothing else to talk about with me or that we had in common, other than to qualify it by it being somehow related to my race.
Suffice it to say, I already don't like the South, not even to visit. I don't like seeing Confederate flags hanging on houses and cars casually (which I saw on more than one home on the street that the beachhouse was on). I don't like to be anywhere where visiting plantations is an acceptable tourist attraction. I don't care for all of the blatantly racist political ads that I've seen on TV regarding 'illegal' immigrants since I've been here (the state primary election is tomorrow), and I am bothered everytime that I think about the fact that the Sterling Center is built on the ruins of Greenville's 'black' high school which was burned down in the late 60s, with arsonists who were never brought to justice. We have race issues everywhere, this I know, but something about being in the South makes me extremely uncomfortable. The beachhouse incidents confirmed that for me.
Even though I am currently a ministry student at a Jesuit institution, I have never attended a Catholic Mass. I have staunch oppositional opinions to the idea of a closed Eucharist, so because I believe that all should be able to receive of the Lord's Table, I only attend churches who share in that philosophy. On Saturday evening, one of our activities was to attend Mass at one of the local Catholic churches in Folly Beach. Despite my reservations, I decided to be a good sport and go along (we also had dinner plans afterwards and had I not attended church, I would not have had a ride to the restaurant). In being a good sport, I had hopes that my spirit would be filled by the beautiful liturgy, that my mind would be renewed with a fresh Word, and that the Eucharist issue wouldn't bother me so much.
Unfortunately, that didn't happen. Everything at Saturday's Mass revolved around the Eucharist, including the sermon. Not being able to partake of it in good conscience (this was neither the time nor the place for me to make a political statement and just 'do it anyway') was disconcerting. Coupled with all that had been going on at the house and leading up to the trip, I was tapped out, however, I didn't quite know what to call that feeling until further reflection last night.
Some of you reading this may be wondering what, if anything, I said to the beachhouse owner about her conversation starters. The truthful answer is not much. I engaged the conversations from an extremely surface-level and kept it moving. To be honest, going through this difficult period of detox had shown me that, atleast at that time, I was completely drained of the desire for teachable moments/come-to-Jesus convos with people who could likely care less. Being someone who internally grieves almost to the point of obsession when I hurt or offend someone (even if not immediately expressed), I had grown weary of the lack of reciprocity when the roles were reversed...so, I decided to chose my battles and cut my losses at Folly Beach. I knew that there was a teachable moment in all of this for me, and I got the revelation upon my return to Greenville.
Last night, I thought about the concept of 'othering' and how I had been 'othered' all weekend in the scenario at the beach. It occured to me as I reflected on my work here in SC, everytime I've been introduced to a group that I am working with, Sister has made emphasis that I am here to do volunteer work with the poor. One day last week after having had a number of conversations with the seniors at the center, I realized an important fact: many are poor, but some are not...and at the end of the day, I wondered if those that were poor appreciated being reminded of that fact everytime a volunteer showed up. It felt to me very much like 'othering,' and I was extremely convicted about that--I want the focus of my time here to be service to all and for me to learn. I feel that I have very little to teach them, while I have much, much more to learn, as I sit at their feet and they share with me, day in and day out.
This weekend, I was 'othered,'--I was constantly reminded of my Blackness (of which I am very proud) in a group of the Majority, when instead I would have preferred to just be accepted as part of the whole. I, a baptized Christian, was 'othered' in a church that proclaims to love and serve the same Lord that I do. Ultimately, I am satisfied with my response--one of introspection vs. confrontation--which caused me to evaluate and to correct the 'othering' that I may participate in in my own life.
For that, I am most grateful.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
short & sweet
hi, all--
just a short update tonite, as i am exhausted and ready to turn in...the Bible Study with the seniors went well today. more than teaching them, i learned so much from them ....they were engaged and enthusiastic about the material (the Parable of the Sower), so it helped a nervous sista out a lot!
i am preparing a leadership/self-esteem presentation for the teenagers who will volunteer with the Center's summer camp starting in mid-June. the training workshop is on this coming Monday, so i'm attempting to put together some fun activities to keep a large group of 12-18 year olds attentive and motivated, while learning to feel good about themselves and discovering their gifts.
tomorrow morning, i am headed with a group of 8 ppl to Folly Beach, NC for a weekend retreat. i'm looking fwd to some relaxation and reflection.
thank you for your warm thoughts/prayers/encouragement. i hope to have some good stuff to share when i return to the computer on Sunday night :)
remembering love,
KW
just a short update tonite, as i am exhausted and ready to turn in...the Bible Study with the seniors went well today. more than teaching them, i learned so much from them ....they were engaged and enthusiastic about the material (the Parable of the Sower), so it helped a nervous sista out a lot!
i am preparing a leadership/self-esteem presentation for the teenagers who will volunteer with the Center's summer camp starting in mid-June. the training workshop is on this coming Monday, so i'm attempting to put together some fun activities to keep a large group of 12-18 year olds attentive and motivated, while learning to feel good about themselves and discovering their gifts.
tomorrow morning, i am headed with a group of 8 ppl to Folly Beach, NC for a weekend retreat. i'm looking fwd to some relaxation and reflection.
thank you for your warm thoughts/prayers/encouragement. i hope to have some good stuff to share when i return to the computer on Sunday night :)
remembering love,
KW
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
all i ever needed to know.....
...i learned in kindergarten. or, maybe not. maybe i've learned all i needed to know in the last couple of days....well, that's a stretch, but here's my Top 10 list of fun and/or enlightening tidbits from the last 24 hours (in no particular order):
1. Chik-Fil-A is sooooo very yummy, especially when you don't get to eat it very often! MAJOR cool points that there's one right down the street from where i'm staying :)
2. Miss Wilkie (one of the regular senior attendees at the Community Center) told me all about her husband yesterday, who passed away in the 1970s. she met him in high school, nearly beat up a girl from across town when she found out that she was 'chasing after' her boyfriend, followed him to Dayton, OH from Pittsburgh, and endured both joy and sadness as First Lady when he accepted a call to ministry later in their marriage. he was the absolute love of her life, and she never remarried or even dated anyone else after he died. she asked me if i had met the love of my life yet...i told her i had not....she told me that i would, and that there would be nothing like it in the world! today, she told me that she hoped i met him while i was in Greenville...i think she and some of the other ladies are gonna try to marry me off in the next 9 days :-/
3. admittedly, i had preconceived notions about how i, a female seminarian from a relatively liberal denomination, would be both perceived AND received by a Southern Baptist, male, old school preacher, with 40+ years of pastoring under his belt, as he came to teach Bible Study to the seniors this morning. he couldn't have been more warm, encouraging, and edifying. i was humbled.
4. the South is lovely to visit, but standing on the site of a high school that was for 'Blacks Only' in the 1960s and was burned down not once, but twice, makes it definitely NOT a place i could see myself moving.
5. 'Boundaries' by Drs. Henry Cloud and John Townsend has been an absolute Godsend. i have been called upon to utilize its lessons over and over again, both for myself and in conversations with others, within mere days of reading it. i see myself in the long-term teaching a seminar on its life-changing messages.
6. I get really nervous when asked to publically pray.
7. Trinity United Church of Christ is known in all corners of this country thanks to the media debacle during the Obama campaign...and ppl really believe that our beloved Pastor Emeritus was wrongly persecuted. i feel very proud to tell ppl of my church home.
8. i MISS my baby girl :(
9. if 85 year-old Miss Minnie can press her way to church each and every week thru frailty, sickness, and other afflictions...i no longer have any excuse in those instances where i hit the 'snooze' button one too many times.
10. i'm teaching a short devotion tomorrow on the Parable of the Sower and i'm nervous!!
Bonus: Target is the DEVIL no matter which of the 50 states you are in!!
hope you enjoyed....stay tuned :)
1. Chik-Fil-A is sooooo very yummy, especially when you don't get to eat it very often! MAJOR cool points that there's one right down the street from where i'm staying :)
2. Miss Wilkie (one of the regular senior attendees at the Community Center) told me all about her husband yesterday, who passed away in the 1970s. she met him in high school, nearly beat up a girl from across town when she found out that she was 'chasing after' her boyfriend, followed him to Dayton, OH from Pittsburgh, and endured both joy and sadness as First Lady when he accepted a call to ministry later in their marriage. he was the absolute love of her life, and she never remarried or even dated anyone else after he died. she asked me if i had met the love of my life yet...i told her i had not....she told me that i would, and that there would be nothing like it in the world! today, she told me that she hoped i met him while i was in Greenville...i think she and some of the other ladies are gonna try to marry me off in the next 9 days :-/
3. admittedly, i had preconceived notions about how i, a female seminarian from a relatively liberal denomination, would be both perceived AND received by a Southern Baptist, male, old school preacher, with 40+ years of pastoring under his belt, as he came to teach Bible Study to the seniors this morning. he couldn't have been more warm, encouraging, and edifying. i was humbled.
4. the South is lovely to visit, but standing on the site of a high school that was for 'Blacks Only' in the 1960s and was burned down not once, but twice, makes it definitely NOT a place i could see myself moving.
5. 'Boundaries' by Drs. Henry Cloud and John Townsend has been an absolute Godsend. i have been called upon to utilize its lessons over and over again, both for myself and in conversations with others, within mere days of reading it. i see myself in the long-term teaching a seminar on its life-changing messages.
6. I get really nervous when asked to publically pray.
7. Trinity United Church of Christ is known in all corners of this country thanks to the media debacle during the Obama campaign...and ppl really believe that our beloved Pastor Emeritus was wrongly persecuted. i feel very proud to tell ppl of my church home.
8. i MISS my baby girl :(
9. if 85 year-old Miss Minnie can press her way to church each and every week thru frailty, sickness, and other afflictions...i no longer have any excuse in those instances where i hit the 'snooze' button one too many times.
10. i'm teaching a short devotion tomorrow on the Parable of the Sower and i'm nervous!!
Bonus: Target is the DEVIL no matter which of the 50 states you are in!!
hope you enjoyed....stay tuned :)
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
can i get a window seat?
for those of you who know me well, you know that i absolutely love to travel! last summer, i was blessed to be able to take two vacations within a few months of each other: a friend and i took our kids to sunny Los Angeles for a fun-filled 5 days, and later, i ended up in Vegas for a girls trip to celebrate a girlfriend's bday. in the midst of that, i was able to take a few short side-trips to OH to visit family, and also did some traveling for work, which, even though it required sitting in hours and hours of boring meetings, i dared not complain, as the 'all-expense paid' aspect of the deal made it all worth it! besides my current trip to the South, this summer will also be filled with a couple of trips home to OH for weddings and the like, as well as other side trips to visit friends, etc., satiating my need for new scenery and old, familiar connections.
though i don't think i ever really took having the financial means to travel for granted, i never really thought about what it would be like NOT to have that opportunity until today. Sister Margie and i spent the day at the Sterling Community Center, primarily spending time with the senior citizens that come to the facility daily for food, conversation, activities, and fellowship. attendance was low, as a good majority of the seniors were out on a 'field trip,' but we did get an opportunity to chat and share stories with the residents that stayed behind.
one resident i met was CJ. CJ is probably in his late 60s, and was a veteran, having lived and served in Japan for the Army for 12 years. after we started talking, he began asking me many questions about Chicago. Sister Margie introduced me as having come in from Chicago, and all of the seniors were fascinated by that. 'the Windy City, huh?' they said, wide-eyed, many wondering how the heck i ended up in the South, specifically Greenville! CJ and i chatted for quite a while, and he shared with me that he had taken a train thru Chicago 40+ years ago while on his way to Seattle to catch a military plane to Japan. i asked him if he had ever been back and he told me no, and we proceeded to get on the subject of travel in general. it was thru this conversation that i learned that after his stint in the military, he had worked a series of odd jobs over the next 20-30 yrs: construction, electrician work, etc. none of his jobs was ever lucrative enough to propel him into the so-called 'middle-class,' so he joined the ranks of many of the ppl who live in and around the Community Center: the working poor. over the years, he and his wife (now deceased) had made just enough money to get by and had never had enough discretionary income to travel. over the years, he had held onto the memories of the only travel that he had ever been able to do which was during his time as a soldier. he reminisced with me about attending baseball games in California on his way to Seattle, staring up at the tall buildings and the maze of Union Station in downtown Chicago, and embracing the Japanese culture for the 3 years that he spent there. as CJ shared his memories with me, he asked me how long the flight had been for me from Chicago to Greenville and he talked about the high cost of plane tickets. he told me that, in his mind, 'travel wasn't for the poor.' he could never imagine having $300 for a plane ticket, $80+/night for a hotel, and spending money, etc for a vacation. in 40+ years, he had never been out of a 100 mile radius of Greenville, South Carolina. even road trips are prohibitive, as he told me he can barely afford the $25 it takes to fill up his tank, and he doesn't drive more than 4 or 5 miles from his home in order to make it last as long as possible.
many of the seniors i chatted with had similar stories: dreams and aspirations to see the world (or, at the very least, more of the United States), but had never had the means to do so, even after 70+ years of life. something as 'simple' as running thru an airport to catch a flight to some faraway location suddenly had a bit more meaning for me, and really put my 'privilege' into perspective, as a person who at half their age had seen many places (and will see many more places) than they ever will.
last week, i was wishing and hoping for both a literal AND figurative window seat ala Erykah Badu (spent many a day singing it at the TOP of my lungs!). not only did i get my wish, but i also gained a completely different viewpoint on the blessing that recreational mobility has been in my life...and how i've truly taken it for granted.
though i don't think i ever really took having the financial means to travel for granted, i never really thought about what it would be like NOT to have that opportunity until today. Sister Margie and i spent the day at the Sterling Community Center, primarily spending time with the senior citizens that come to the facility daily for food, conversation, activities, and fellowship. attendance was low, as a good majority of the seniors were out on a 'field trip,' but we did get an opportunity to chat and share stories with the residents that stayed behind.
one resident i met was CJ. CJ is probably in his late 60s, and was a veteran, having lived and served in Japan for the Army for 12 years. after we started talking, he began asking me many questions about Chicago. Sister Margie introduced me as having come in from Chicago, and all of the seniors were fascinated by that. 'the Windy City, huh?' they said, wide-eyed, many wondering how the heck i ended up in the South, specifically Greenville! CJ and i chatted for quite a while, and he shared with me that he had taken a train thru Chicago 40+ years ago while on his way to Seattle to catch a military plane to Japan. i asked him if he had ever been back and he told me no, and we proceeded to get on the subject of travel in general. it was thru this conversation that i learned that after his stint in the military, he had worked a series of odd jobs over the next 20-30 yrs: construction, electrician work, etc. none of his jobs was ever lucrative enough to propel him into the so-called 'middle-class,' so he joined the ranks of many of the ppl who live in and around the Community Center: the working poor. over the years, he and his wife (now deceased) had made just enough money to get by and had never had enough discretionary income to travel. over the years, he had held onto the memories of the only travel that he had ever been able to do which was during his time as a soldier. he reminisced with me about attending baseball games in California on his way to Seattle, staring up at the tall buildings and the maze of Union Station in downtown Chicago, and embracing the Japanese culture for the 3 years that he spent there. as CJ shared his memories with me, he asked me how long the flight had been for me from Chicago to Greenville and he talked about the high cost of plane tickets. he told me that, in his mind, 'travel wasn't for the poor.' he could never imagine having $300 for a plane ticket, $80+/night for a hotel, and spending money, etc for a vacation. in 40+ years, he had never been out of a 100 mile radius of Greenville, South Carolina. even road trips are prohibitive, as he told me he can barely afford the $25 it takes to fill up his tank, and he doesn't drive more than 4 or 5 miles from his home in order to make it last as long as possible.
many of the seniors i chatted with had similar stories: dreams and aspirations to see the world (or, at the very least, more of the United States), but had never had the means to do so, even after 70+ years of life. something as 'simple' as running thru an airport to catch a flight to some faraway location suddenly had a bit more meaning for me, and really put my 'privilege' into perspective, as a person who at half their age had seen many places (and will see many more places) than they ever will.
last week, i was wishing and hoping for both a literal AND figurative window seat ala Erykah Badu (spent many a day singing it at the TOP of my lungs!). not only did i get my wish, but i also gained a completely different viewpoint on the blessing that recreational mobility has been in my life...and how i've truly taken it for granted.
Monday, May 31, 2010
it never rains in South[ern] Carolina....
in my own private thoughts, i've often wondered how pastors preach thru their pain. when called upon to eulogize a loved one or close friend, deliver a Sunday sermon in the midst of intense emotional turmoil, or minister to the sick & dying, assuring them of eternal life when they themselves are facing their own doubts, ministers have to learn how to press past their personal, human issues in order to fulfill the mission that God has placed on their lives. i've often stood in awe while watching ministers that i admire take on the tasks above, and i have wondered to myself where they draw the strength to stand and deliver instead of retreat and surrender to their bruised and battered emotions. as is par for the course for me, i felt God saying to me 'KW, i'm glad you asked,' as i was faced with that very crossroads in my own experience, and called upon to push "me" aside to go forth into what He was asking of me to do.
as many of you reading this blog know, for the past couple of months I have been planning and preparing for a 2 week mission trip doing outreach for the poor in a depressed urban community in Greenville, SC. i am working as a partner with a Franciscan Sister to work on leadership training with 7th and 8th graders, as well as doing home visits to elderly residents in the community. when i applied for this program earlier this spring and was accepted, the excitement welled up in my spirit. i enjoy service and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to do faith-based work with an underrepresented population: poor people of color. besides running into some logistical obstacles early on with securing care for PC while i am gone, everything was moving along smoothly. i counted the days and communicated regularly with my ministry partner (Sister Margie), as well as the administrator of the program which is called Franciscan Common Venture (www.osfdbq.org).
Then, the bottom fell out.
The 8 days or so leading up to the trip were the hardest that i've encountered in quite a while, and the multiple, simultaneous situations that were going on caused me to end the week completely void of any spiritual strength. i felt completely empty and like i had absolutely nothing to give to the people that i was planning to come and serve. i couldn't believe that what had once been an excited and anxious spirit coursing thru my veins had been replaced with the exact opposite. though i generally adapt well to new environments, i had much apprehension and trepidation about coming to an unfamiliar place in the midst of my own personal storms and having to deal thru that in the presence of people that i didn't even know. my constant prayer was to be refilled, otherwise, i wasn't going to make the trip.
as i boarded the plane this morning, i reminded myself of the statement that many ministers repeat in their public prayers just prior to delivering a sermon: 'Lord, allow me to decrease so that you might increase..' it came to me that this week of 'decrease' was purposeful--that i absolutely had to be completely emptied of some things in order to move KW and her ambitions out of the way so that He might be glorified. it ultimately didn't matter whether i did a service project in Greenville or on the West Side of Chicago near my home--whatever i did for Him had to be by His direction and guidance only. only once i was forcibly moved out of the way was i able to have my storage emptied, my humility tested, and my ear and heart hearkened to precisely how those same ppl that i have watched and admired learned to move past their 'stuff' in order to fulfill the call. so, i pulled myself together, got my mind right, and pressed my way.
i landed in leafy green, rain-soaked Greenville late morning today, and was greeted by the smiling face of Sister Margie. today was a holiday, so we spent the day having an indoor picnic, playing dominoes (which i lost at terribly!), hiking once the rain stopped, and watching 'The Bachelorette.' most of you know that i am a reality TV junkie, but i was prepared that i'd miss all of my shows while i was here. imagine my shock when 8pm rolled around and Sister Margie requested that we watch that, which we did, and laughed at the antics of the contestants! unfortunately, she doesn't watch most of the trashy shows that i watch, so i waited until she went to bed to get my 'Real Housewives' fix. my addiction will be fed while here--yay :)
tomorrow begins day one of the real work. we will be spending time with the elderly in the Sterling Community of Greenville--listening, visiting, and sharing. i have no idea what to expect other than to be transformed, and that, in itself, is a GREAT expectation!
stay tuned...
as many of you reading this blog know, for the past couple of months I have been planning and preparing for a 2 week mission trip doing outreach for the poor in a depressed urban community in Greenville, SC. i am working as a partner with a Franciscan Sister to work on leadership training with 7th and 8th graders, as well as doing home visits to elderly residents in the community. when i applied for this program earlier this spring and was accepted, the excitement welled up in my spirit. i enjoy service and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to do faith-based work with an underrepresented population: poor people of color. besides running into some logistical obstacles early on with securing care for PC while i am gone, everything was moving along smoothly. i counted the days and communicated regularly with my ministry partner (Sister Margie), as well as the administrator of the program which is called Franciscan Common Venture (www.osfdbq.org).
Then, the bottom fell out.
The 8 days or so leading up to the trip were the hardest that i've encountered in quite a while, and the multiple, simultaneous situations that were going on caused me to end the week completely void of any spiritual strength. i felt completely empty and like i had absolutely nothing to give to the people that i was planning to come and serve. i couldn't believe that what had once been an excited and anxious spirit coursing thru my veins had been replaced with the exact opposite. though i generally adapt well to new environments, i had much apprehension and trepidation about coming to an unfamiliar place in the midst of my own personal storms and having to deal thru that in the presence of people that i didn't even know. my constant prayer was to be refilled, otherwise, i wasn't going to make the trip.
as i boarded the plane this morning, i reminded myself of the statement that many ministers repeat in their public prayers just prior to delivering a sermon: 'Lord, allow me to decrease so that you might increase..' it came to me that this week of 'decrease' was purposeful--that i absolutely had to be completely emptied of some things in order to move KW and her ambitions out of the way so that He might be glorified. it ultimately didn't matter whether i did a service project in Greenville or on the West Side of Chicago near my home--whatever i did for Him had to be by His direction and guidance only. only once i was forcibly moved out of the way was i able to have my storage emptied, my humility tested, and my ear and heart hearkened to precisely how those same ppl that i have watched and admired learned to move past their 'stuff' in order to fulfill the call. so, i pulled myself together, got my mind right, and pressed my way.
i landed in leafy green, rain-soaked Greenville late morning today, and was greeted by the smiling face of Sister Margie. today was a holiday, so we spent the day having an indoor picnic, playing dominoes (which i lost at terribly!), hiking once the rain stopped, and watching 'The Bachelorette.' most of you know that i am a reality TV junkie, but i was prepared that i'd miss all of my shows while i was here. imagine my shock when 8pm rolled around and Sister Margie requested that we watch that, which we did, and laughed at the antics of the contestants! unfortunately, she doesn't watch most of the trashy shows that i watch, so i waited until she went to bed to get my 'Real Housewives' fix. my addiction will be fed while here--yay :)
tomorrow begins day one of the real work. we will be spending time with the elderly in the Sterling Community of Greenville--listening, visiting, and sharing. i have no idea what to expect other than to be transformed, and that, in itself, is a GREAT expectation!
stay tuned...
Monday, April 12, 2010
there is no epidural for grief...
in just 3 short weeks, my first semester as a Divinity student will be drawing to a close. The last few months have been a tremendous transition--personally, academically, and, most of all--spiritually. many ppl have been asking me to blog and blog regularly after the first email update that i sent, but the truth is, though there has been so much going on, i have not had enough moments of true clarity to sit down and write anything that would make sense to anyone but myself & God! however, after a conversation with a friend yesterday, my fingers started itching and my mind started moving. i didn't have my computer with me, so i began jotting down ideas on a scrap of paper. and, here i am, not having blogged in almost six months, but with a little somethin'-somethin' to share with you...
there are 2 things that i fear more than anything in this world: death and rejection. fear of both of these events stands in direct antithesis of a faith which assures as that our earthly end is indeed only our eternal beginning, as well as reminding us that Jesus was rejected by pretty much everyone and still served out His purpose on earth. i subscribe to this faith, study this faith, teach this faith, and preach this faith, but like many people, i struggle with doubt and unanswered questions. seminary makes it worse, let me tell you...but, it is well b/c without doubt, questions, and moments of pure disbelief, there would be no need for faith.
as part of the requirements for my degree, i will eventually complete 400 hours of Clinical Pastoral Education, also known as 'CPE.' CPE is essentially the time during your Divinity training where you spend time as a chaplain, in a hospital setting, being present with patients and families as they face illness and, in many cases, begin their walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. many of my classmates this semester have either already completed their CPE hours or are in the midst of them. because of this, even as a new student, i have been able to get firsthand accounts of what it is really like to be present with families as their loved ones transition. some of these transitions are long and labored as is the case with a terminal illness, and others are sudden, such as a heart attack or a fatal accident. no matter the cause, the pain and heartache is still the same, and you, as the chaplain, are indeed the very presence/face of God at that moment as you walk with that family.
in my background, i have not experienced much death, atleast in my own family. both my maternal and paternal grandparents died when i was relatively young, and i also lost an uncle as a preteen and a great aunt about 4 years ago. i cannot recall any of these deaths really hitting me hard and i think it was for a number of reasons: age, nature of relationship with the person (i.e. lack of closeness), and the unemotional way in which it was handled in a family where practically EVERYTHING is taboo!
but even though i have not walked that Emmaus Rd (yet), i have experienced it plenty with friends of mine who have lost...or are currently losing...close family members. i have seen and experienced this grief up close, and have attempted to--as Buddha would say--let their pain 'wash over me' without completely absorbing it, so that i can be a support to them and love them in the way that they need it the most.
and, so, as i sat and reflected yesterday (as i do often) about death/grief/sympathy/consolation/fear and all that comes with that, i thought about the words...the words that we immediately jump to say when someone is experiencing grief....the spiritual 'fluff' and 'mumbo-jumbo,' as i call it: 'your loved one is looking down on you from Heaven,' 'there is no more pain now,' 'they are with you always as your angel.' the list goes on and on. i absolutely ABHOR shopping for sympathy cards b/c of this issue as i know without a shadow of a doubt, no matter how saved/sanctified a person is--or claims to be--they don't want to hear that! and, b/c we as humans always feel the need to 'have something to say,' we try to find the right words to encompass an emotion that is like the moans/groans that only the Holy Spirit can understand--there are no words that will ever do justice to that heartbreak of loss.
and so, as i am being prepared for ministry--as a chaplain, as a pastoral counselor and beyond--i wonder often what i will be able to offer these families as they go through this time. it came to me yesterday: there is no epidural for grief. before i became pregnant, i was like most women--i had been socialized to fear childbirth--the pain, the loss of control, etc. throughout my pregnancy, i took the time to educate myself about the process, my body, and methods of pain management, and made the decision to make a full attempt at natural childbirth. during my research, i discovered that women's bodies are indeed built to carry and birth children, and also to withstand the pain of childbirth. don't be mistaken: this is not some diatribe about childbirth not hurting--labor HURTS! but, what it is instead, is a true fact--we are built to endure this pain....and we also have options: an epidural will completely numb you, a narcotic will just take the edge off, and natural childbirth with breathing techniques/massage/exercise balls/water will help you to manage the pain, without taking it away.
so, where am i going with this? from the moment the goldfish that we cherish dies when we are young, we are introduced to the concept of death. though we may be too young to fully grasp its meaning, we know the basics of the life cycle--animals/ppl/plants are born/grow/die. we are hurt, we are sad, but we don't also die with that person or animal who died. we are indeed built to endure the pain of grief b/c it is a natural process of life, but the grief does not kill us-- just like a woman's body is built to endure the pain of childbirth (which will not kill her). it may feel like we are dying from the pain--physical and emotional--but we yet live.
'spiritual fluff' acts as an epidural. it is designed to numb an already shell-shocked person from walking through the valley of their heartbreak. kind words and good intentions get wrapped in a shot of pain medication that eventually wears off. 'mumbo-jumbo' acts as a narcotic. it takes the edge off: a person still feels the pain, but may be too 'high' from the medication to fully grasp the feeling. again, it eventually wears off and we're back to Square One--until we get another hit.
what i hope to be to the families that i have yet to meet, to those friends who i have walked with and will continue to walk with, and for myself when my time comes, is a Grief Midwife. i would like to help people learn how to manage the pain. i remember the pain of natural childbirth like it was yesterday--i got a great kid out of it, but it is not lost on me the amount of discomfort that accompanied that process! in that experience, i came to know what i could take--me, the person with THE lowest pain threshhold ever. i learned how to manage...and i believe that is what is missing the most with the grief process.
the truth is, unlike childbirth, the pain of sorrow and grief never completely goes away. there is no smiling, crying baby to hold in your arms to help you forget what just happened. on the other side of the labor of death, there stands an absence, a gravesite, a void that will never be filled on this side of eternity. and, just like contractions, the moments of sheer despair will peak and valley over the days, weeks, months, and years after the loss. and how that pain is managed will be key to the spiritual surviVAL of the surviVOR.
i will face my fears shortly when i start my CPE, having the opportunity to assist families in whatever way that they need me. i will hone my 'midwifery techniques,' while being face-to-face with that which troubles me the most. i will learn to let the pain wash over me, yet not absorb it, and i will say nothing that is not asked of and, insteaf let my presence speak for itself.
i will do my best to be the face of God for them during their most difficult moments, and to be used in however He allows me. in that, i will teach them to manage--and i too, will learn to manage the pain.
there are 2 things that i fear more than anything in this world: death and rejection. fear of both of these events stands in direct antithesis of a faith which assures as that our earthly end is indeed only our eternal beginning, as well as reminding us that Jesus was rejected by pretty much everyone and still served out His purpose on earth. i subscribe to this faith, study this faith, teach this faith, and preach this faith, but like many people, i struggle with doubt and unanswered questions. seminary makes it worse, let me tell you...but, it is well b/c without doubt, questions, and moments of pure disbelief, there would be no need for faith.
as part of the requirements for my degree, i will eventually complete 400 hours of Clinical Pastoral Education, also known as 'CPE.' CPE is essentially the time during your Divinity training where you spend time as a chaplain, in a hospital setting, being present with patients and families as they face illness and, in many cases, begin their walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. many of my classmates this semester have either already completed their CPE hours or are in the midst of them. because of this, even as a new student, i have been able to get firsthand accounts of what it is really like to be present with families as their loved ones transition. some of these transitions are long and labored as is the case with a terminal illness, and others are sudden, such as a heart attack or a fatal accident. no matter the cause, the pain and heartache is still the same, and you, as the chaplain, are indeed the very presence/face of God at that moment as you walk with that family.
in my background, i have not experienced much death, atleast in my own family. both my maternal and paternal grandparents died when i was relatively young, and i also lost an uncle as a preteen and a great aunt about 4 years ago. i cannot recall any of these deaths really hitting me hard and i think it was for a number of reasons: age, nature of relationship with the person (i.e. lack of closeness), and the unemotional way in which it was handled in a family where practically EVERYTHING is taboo!
but even though i have not walked that Emmaus Rd (yet), i have experienced it plenty with friends of mine who have lost...or are currently losing...close family members. i have seen and experienced this grief up close, and have attempted to--as Buddha would say--let their pain 'wash over me' without completely absorbing it, so that i can be a support to them and love them in the way that they need it the most.
and, so, as i sat and reflected yesterday (as i do often) about death/grief/sympathy/consolation/fear and all that comes with that, i thought about the words...the words that we immediately jump to say when someone is experiencing grief....the spiritual 'fluff' and 'mumbo-jumbo,' as i call it: 'your loved one is looking down on you from Heaven,' 'there is no more pain now,' 'they are with you always as your angel.' the list goes on and on. i absolutely ABHOR shopping for sympathy cards b/c of this issue as i know without a shadow of a doubt, no matter how saved/sanctified a person is--or claims to be--they don't want to hear that! and, b/c we as humans always feel the need to 'have something to say,' we try to find the right words to encompass an emotion that is like the moans/groans that only the Holy Spirit can understand--there are no words that will ever do justice to that heartbreak of loss.
and so, as i am being prepared for ministry--as a chaplain, as a pastoral counselor and beyond--i wonder often what i will be able to offer these families as they go through this time. it came to me yesterday: there is no epidural for grief. before i became pregnant, i was like most women--i had been socialized to fear childbirth--the pain, the loss of control, etc. throughout my pregnancy, i took the time to educate myself about the process, my body, and methods of pain management, and made the decision to make a full attempt at natural childbirth. during my research, i discovered that women's bodies are indeed built to carry and birth children, and also to withstand the pain of childbirth. don't be mistaken: this is not some diatribe about childbirth not hurting--labor HURTS! but, what it is instead, is a true fact--we are built to endure this pain....and we also have options: an epidural will completely numb you, a narcotic will just take the edge off, and natural childbirth with breathing techniques/massage/exercise balls/water will help you to manage the pain, without taking it away.
so, where am i going with this? from the moment the goldfish that we cherish dies when we are young, we are introduced to the concept of death. though we may be too young to fully grasp its meaning, we know the basics of the life cycle--animals/ppl/plants are born/grow/die. we are hurt, we are sad, but we don't also die with that person or animal who died. we are indeed built to endure the pain of grief b/c it is a natural process of life, but the grief does not kill us-- just like a woman's body is built to endure the pain of childbirth (which will not kill her). it may feel like we are dying from the pain--physical and emotional--but we yet live.
'spiritual fluff' acts as an epidural. it is designed to numb an already shell-shocked person from walking through the valley of their heartbreak. kind words and good intentions get wrapped in a shot of pain medication that eventually wears off. 'mumbo-jumbo' acts as a narcotic. it takes the edge off: a person still feels the pain, but may be too 'high' from the medication to fully grasp the feeling. again, it eventually wears off and we're back to Square One--until we get another hit.
what i hope to be to the families that i have yet to meet, to those friends who i have walked with and will continue to walk with, and for myself when my time comes, is a Grief Midwife. i would like to help people learn how to manage the pain. i remember the pain of natural childbirth like it was yesterday--i got a great kid out of it, but it is not lost on me the amount of discomfort that accompanied that process! in that experience, i came to know what i could take--me, the person with THE lowest pain threshhold ever. i learned how to manage...and i believe that is what is missing the most with the grief process.
the truth is, unlike childbirth, the pain of sorrow and grief never completely goes away. there is no smiling, crying baby to hold in your arms to help you forget what just happened. on the other side of the labor of death, there stands an absence, a gravesite, a void that will never be filled on this side of eternity. and, just like contractions, the moments of sheer despair will peak and valley over the days, weeks, months, and years after the loss. and how that pain is managed will be key to the spiritual surviVAL of the surviVOR.
i will face my fears shortly when i start my CPE, having the opportunity to assist families in whatever way that they need me. i will hone my 'midwifery techniques,' while being face-to-face with that which troubles me the most. i will learn to let the pain wash over me, yet not absorb it, and i will say nothing that is not asked of and, insteaf let my presence speak for itself.
i will do my best to be the face of God for them during their most difficult moments, and to be used in however He allows me. in that, i will teach them to manage--and i too, will learn to manage the pain.
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