The one that doesn't much matter, but at least its new
by Paul (0 Comments) 
Its never easy saying something. Not anything, but something.
Something that might matter. Something that might make someone laugh or learn or cry or feel connected or uncomfortable or amused. Then you get stuck trying to find that matter, preoccupied with it, and you keep searching for it, and you give up doing anything for fear of not mattering.
This isn't just a blog problem, this is life. Does it matter? Do you matter?
Its common to wonder if what you do, who you are, why you are, how you are -- makes any difference, has any impact. If you're on the right path, if you're doing what you should, if you work is worthwhile or fulfilling, if what you believe about life, love, death, war, God, yourself matters. Will you have a legacy. Ultimately its all a way of saying, when you die, will the content of your past be passed.
We all know what's important, maybe they don't all fall in the same order, but the list almost universally the same -- family, relationships, community, happiness. Are you doing what you ought to do? Fulfilled? Important? Connected to people? Does it help your community? Does it help your family? Does it impact others beyond yourself? You'll never find those fulfilled in a job, in your work (maybe glimpses, but never just your work alone -- if all your eggs are in that basket, then you might become a very lonely person. Hell, all I do is make meaningless things look decently ok, that will be seen by very few and forgotten just as quickly; that impact no one other than to try and convince them of something; buy this, use this, donate, read, etc.).
I don't have the answers, though I feel like I'm on the right path. I'm taking responsibility, because who I am is a direct result of where I've been, and who I'll be is a direct result of where I'm going.
comfort in the minor key
by Sonya (0 Comments)
Most of my life has been lived in what you could metaphorically call a minor key. I am familiar with it and it has a familiar salving comfort and is condusive to reflection. Though there are many little things to smile about in life, the first warm breeze of a spring day in Ohio, the laughter of my children playing in the backyard, a fresh warm cup of coffee, an encouraging word of a dear friend, a verse of scripture read - fitting for the moment, there are those times that remind me of a verse in the Bible found in John:
"I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world."
It reminds me that we are not spared from trouble; it's just a by product of life and God reminds me that He is with me. It is small strands of words like that that hold me together during the periods in life when grief is my companion and silent tears shed over newborn pajamas that will never be worn and frog puppets, and the softest yellow teething blanket will not be used because our third child is not coming anymore. I hoped and waited, became attached and wrote down the names in my journal and on my heart. Our hopes and dreams will not come to fruition. I have come to believe that along with the other losses I've experienced in life, the hurt will not go away...I am not spared these troubles, but I am promised comfort....an invisible shoulder to cry on. And then I am reminded of yet an even more dear verse to me:
Psalm 147:3 He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.
If it weren't for that I fear I could die of a broken heart. Grief is painful and cannot be escaped. I think it is described well in the following passage found in a book by an amazing kentucky author, Wendell Berry, called HANNA COULTER:
"I need to tell about my people in their grief. I don't think grief is something they get over or get away from. In a little community like this it is around us and in us all the time, and we know it. We know that every night war or no war there are people lying awake grieving. And every morning there are people waking up to absences that never will be filled. But, we shut our mouths and go ahead. How we are is 'fine'. There are always a few who will recite their complaints, but the proper answer to 'How are you?' is 'fine.' "
After experiencing a miscarriage for myself, I now am aware of how deep the pain and grief can go for other women who have experienced what I have experienced. I want there to be an outlet .......a support group.......a place where we can go where we can share and listen and know that we can say more than....."we are fine" ....especially when those words are not honestly how we feel.
I'll leave you with something I wrote to help deal with my loss:
a late bloomer
it is fitting
that come spring
no buds will be showing on my tree
we cannot hope for rain
to wash away
the scars of these barren branches
where life once sprang
Oh a memory
and when the sun shines
it will burn
and I will ache for spring showers
in place of buds
so long lttle flower that could have been
I'll see you
in the shining rays
and twinkling stars
under the angel's wings
my Lily
Low is a Height
by Paul (6 Comments)
Here we are, at the bottom of our lives.
Its sunny outside, and you can sense the sprouts of spring aching to come out. Joy seems sequestered at the edge of a long hole, out of reach and taunting. I knew we were reaching for bottom -- the place where you go to realize that its either let it explode, or find search for rescue -- but I didn't know what the view would be.
Here we are, at the bottom of our lives.
The phone rings every half hour. On the other line is someone wanting their money, money we don't have. Every half hour. And the bills stare back. And the bank account dips and sways. The phone rings. And I keep my head down and work. It's all I can do. Just work. Just survive. The mess I've made. Every half hour.
Here we are, at the bottom of our lives.
Here we are, at 35 years old, taking what we can't get, starting over like children. Given. Free. Handouts. Food stamps. Free stores. We've dropped so low. Each day less capable. Less a provider. Less a man. The mess I've made. Every half hour the phone rings. And I keep my head down and work and work because its all I can do from exploding and letting go and staying here on the bottom staring up at the possibility of rescue, all because I needed and wanted and got them confused and took from what wasn't mine but allowed it to allure me -- and I fell for it and ignored it and kept my head down and kept working as the phone rang and rang and rang. And now, here we are. At the bottom. Where I can only accept your hand outs. Where I can only give up my pride. Where no one knows what to say. Where some friends walk away from guilt or fear or frustration or shame of who we are and who we've become. But there is nothing to say that helps. There is nothing I want, not sympathy, not pity. This is the mess I've created ... and the bottom we've taken ourselves too.
This is where trust lives or dies.
And I don't know which is in store ....
Accidentally Stumbled Upon A Decision (I Tried Not To Make)
by Paul (6 Comments)
On any given day one of our kids will come shrieking into the house, proclaiming "Blah blah blah (fill in the kids name) made me laugh and choke!!!". Aside from the ear-shattering whining and annoying tattle-telling, we attempt to correct the kids by saying "No one made you do anything; you choked because you laughed; that was your choice to laugh". I think the concept is completely lost on the kids (as they give us long, blank stares, accompanied by the sound of crickets). Overall the idea is that you can't always pass the blame to someone else, no matter if you decided to do (or not do) something.
Its been a week (a long long week) since we experienced some of the more shocking and difficult news we've had in our 12+ years of marriage. Sonya and I had a few good (and difficult) conversations -- aside from the obvious sadness, shock, questioning and somberness, we had a sort of conclusion about how this all "snuck up" on us.
It seems to come down to this; when faced with difficult choices it's human nature to "pass the buck" (assign the blame) to some inanimate object or thing rather than to make decision ourselves. For us, in an effort to avoid conflict or make a mistake or fail; we simply said that we'd leave it up to (Fill In The Blank) to show us the way, the direction. Essentially we passed our decision onto something (in our case, someone) else to "make" the choice for us -- that way if something goes wrong, if it fails or turns out miserably, it wasn't our fault. Call it fate, God, chance, spirits, injustice, the devil, whatever; when we passively allow decisions and actions to be done for us; everyone loses. Not only that, but the idea itself is a lie -- our decision to do nothing is a decision in and of itself. When we decide to not decide, we actively attempt to absolve ourselves from responsibility (though I'm pretty sure we'd claim victory if things are successful).
Not to become too personally naked, the conversation was necessary and overall something we should have talked about months and months ago -- the most difficult and biggest decisions in life should never be left "to chance".
When to move and when to get out of the way
by Paul (3 Comments)
I don't often talk about our faith and spirituality (or religion if you will -- though religion is a markedly "push button" word). Our church has been in existence for about 3 years and is what is called a "church plant" (people leaving and starting a new church, with the blessing and help of the church they are leaving). We've moved from the setting of a Rave Motion Pictures theater to a High School auditorium to a high school gym. This past Friday we learned that we're no longer allowed to use the school; and our last day was this Sunday. That gave us 6 days -- yes, 6 days -- to find a new home.
From day one we've been nothing if not mobile; assembling a full stage, sound system, very large video screen, seating, community stations, cafe tables and dinning and 5 huge inflatable bouncies. Fortunately for us, the janitors of the school loved us and gave us a few extra day warning of the possibility that we'd have to find a new home; and toot-sweet.
About a year ago we face a temporarily, but similar situation when we were unable to use the school facilities. We asked everyone to go to another church on that one Sunday, write down the successes and assets of that church, and we'd determine one to give a portion of our donations to them. Across the street from our offices was a church called Zion Global Ministries -- a newer church of 1200 people; and a predominately African-American church. We loved what they did, how they did it. So we gave them a portion of our donations (and at the moment, we weren't really in the position to give, but we felt that God wanted us to do this). It turned out that Zion was in great financial need at the time, and our gift was an answer to prayer.
Jump to Friday, this week. After learning of our impending exit and scouring the entire countryside for a place we remembered the church across the street (literally). Zion Global has 2 church building on their property -- their main building and another one at the end of their property. Our pastor candidly asked if the building was available, and to our delight it was. Zion was ecstatic to provide us space, to give back to us, and help us in our plight. The building isn't exactly fitting for our "culture", but its about the people, not the place. The blessing of giving, with an open heart, of building a relationship and trust; has been beneficial in more ways than we could have ever foreseen that year ago. We'd prefer to give our $1000 a week to a worthy cause we believe in; to walk side by side with our brothers and sisters in faith, to truly act out what we believe (that its about who you are, not what you look like, what you say, what you wear, what you drive or make).
I'm amazed and excited to think that we -- a very white church -- will be mingling and sharing time and space with a predominantly African-American church; regardless of faith or belief, the mere fact that we will be doing what is so often "preached" of tolerance, equality, but so seldom acted upon -- is a testament to acting on faith, doing what's right and not easy, and focusing on the community and people (the message, rather than the method).
(Listen to the story here)
Have You Forgotten How to Love Yourself?
by Sonya (4 Comments)
It sounds so selfish; to love yourself. I find that it is harder to love myself than it is to love others, yet paradoxically, we can't truly love others if we don't know how to love ourselves. So, i get stuck in this battle and learned pattern of self-loathing.
What does it look like to love myself? How do I give myself a break at the end of a truly exhausting day when I feel I cannot deal with one more outburst from my daughter, or redirect my son, or manage our money without giving it too much importance in our lives.
Today I'm losing this battle.....maybe tomorrow I'll win. Days like this one can seem to last forever though as I desperately try to escape the depression. I talk to God begging for a way out; it's easier to escape than to deal with where we are, and like a good parent, He doesn't rescue me.
I end up feeling like my son, Elliott, looking for the yogurt in the fridge; "mommy, I can't find it!" It's right there, Elliott -- right in front of your eyes." I don't get it for him; I patiently wait -- (this time) and watch as he finds it and goes about his business -- delighted in his accomplishment.
It's amazing how we are so unable in the midst of our daily lives, to see. We walk around like the blind leading the blind.
When I am patient with myself, forgiving of my mistakes, when I can rejoice in my triumphs, trust God, look for the positive, then maybe I'll get somewhere, and not only will my family feel my love, maybe I will too.
