Thursday, November 7, 2013

Randoms (13) - The Why Summer Sucked Edition:

It was a terrible summer. And thus my silence over the past few months. There's been some difficult things we have had to deal with - things to grieve and reflect on - subtle life-changing shifts in perspective, beliefs and goals. It's hard, but I really think I will look back on these few months, maybe even this entire year (and the year before) with a nostalgic grace. One day, this will all make sense. But right now, things are cold and a little grey. With that being said, here are my bleak "randoms," part thirteen - the why summer sucked edition.



  • Both of my grandmothers died in the span of seven weeks this summer and as a person untainted previously by death and its grief process, it was a lot to take in. I was very close to my paternal grandmother growing up. She shaped my worldview in ways I didn't quite understand until the day of her memorial service. As I stated when I eulogized her, she gave me my  first sense of true community and the freedom to question rules and authority. I dare say, she was the earliest hipster and reflecting on her life was a beautiful, deeply humbling experience...one that I think of often and continue to feel, grow and learn from.

  • We continue to wait, and wait and wait for opportunities for Michael, in a job he cares about and went to school to pursue a career in. I swear to God, it feels like infertility. Millions and millions of sperm (job applications) and nothing. Nothing. For a man who's so intelligent, with a masters degree from a great university, it's almost laughable. Almost. We creatively maneuver our lives around the potential of tomorrow's change all the while find ways to exist and content ourselves in the 'same old.'

    {Being grateful is a choice. To count our blessings is something we force ourselves to do because in the end, it will destroy us to focus on what could, or dare I say, should be. So we are thankful for healthy kids, a beautiful house that seems to appreciate in value every week, our own health, Michael's current job with AH-Mazing insurance, renewed contracts for me, and family and friends. So many friends. So many, many lovely relationships.}

  • Speaking of relationships...after seventeen years, I have left my church. And I am not worshiping elsewhere. And I do not have intentions of doing so for a while, at least. The reasons are personal and profoundly clear to me and long-in-coming. Even though I believe I'm doing the right thing for myself, and for my family (eventually), I take it as a loss. A divorce. The co-dependent dance I've both made an idol and an identity in is over. I cannot say I'm not relieved. I cannot say I'm not heartbroken. I'm confused. And at the same time, enlightened. This had to happen. I was breaking there anyway.

  • It was an old Jewish custom for "creditors" to pardon debt every seven years. They called it Jubilee. (maybe still do?) I was thinking recently about how, for me, I go through my own little "thing" with my faith about every seven years. A breaking and molding, if you will, of what and why I believe what I believe. I guess it's my own version of jubilee.

    {An observation I have had, in these jubilee processes, is how intimidated and self-righteous people get when you mention that you're questioning the role of church in 21st century America. Or God's intimate relationship with us as individuals. Or the purpose and impact of prayer. "People be crazy." Either God is personal and involved and therefore has me secure in His loving arms. Or He's not at ALL what we claim He is. If we believe in the indwelling and convicting presence of the Holy Spirit, then why in God's name (literally) do people freak out when someone questions something?  Won't He actively pursue them back to restored faith or discipline them for their transgressions?

    Even at my most evangelical, this is why I don't think I've ever felt comfortable with the label Christian. I probably would have chosen to identify myself as a seeker if "seeker" was a category back in the 80's and I wasn't afraid of going to hell. (hell scared the ba-jesus outta me growing up. literally!) I've always been a wrestler with Truth, someone who would have overcome the angel like Jacob - that's how intensely I struggle and choose to romp around with the things of God. If God is real, and almost especially if He is, why are questions so scary or shocking to the worshiping church? The fear(s) and lack of real thought in which Christians exist and operate out of is deadly. Jesus was clear to denounce those who practiced this sort of religion and called them a sons of the devil. Pharisees... people in bondage to a system, not a relationship (even with self). I'm proud to sit across from an agnostic or "unbeliever" on occasion and vulnerably express my deep questions and faith fears because it's not my job to defend God. Or Christianity. It's my job to live and die in a vulnerable, transparent pursuit of love. Love. The Giver of Love doesn't require my life to be a stage. I'm so tired of the pretenses. I can't do it anymore.}

  • People respond in different ways, after death - after divorce - after great disappointments, in hard situations - in difficult relationships - in painful circumstances. I look around me, at every one of my family members, and see the hand of grief manifest itself in all sorts of haunting and beautiful and sad ways. Likewise, people respond to those who are grieving and struggling in all sorts of different ways as well.

    {I've been noticing that we, Americans/Christians/Cultural Weirdos, are so anti-natural process people. We have an innate need to fix the broken, the situation or the event. I want to scream sometimes, "STOP TRYING TO FIX ME!" Because, chances are you can't. I can't. We are so good at diminishing the natural process people need to go through to become more evolved humans. I think if we stopped trying to fix grief, we'd have healthier people. People are so scared of their own humanity. I know I am at times. But I'd like the opportunity to navigate life, even when it's hard and sad, WHILE being loved and befriended.  We need to stop emotionally c-sectioning what could be a longer, painful but more rewarding, healthier experience. Damn Americans, with our unnecessary medical interventions and unwanted feelings and processes. Why are we so arrogant? Why are we so afraid to feel?}

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    I'll conclude with this. My life is in transition and my jubilee journey is in process. There are days that I anesthetize my pain and my purpose and there are days I allow the full weight of these few months and years to wash over me in tears and giggles and the occasional throwing of a wine glass. (Though I blame that more on tequila!) I love my friends and family, for their allowance of me to be whatever I am, THAT DAY, without judgement or expectation or a need to fix. I'm also thankful for those who cannot begin to process their own lives so they try to fix mine, because they motivate me to keep walking through this (so I don't end up like them).

    I will come through this. Transformed and more fully me. Human. Jubilee - the freedom from debt, obligation and fear.

    Until next time...

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Ahhh, sister. I feel your pain, at least some of it. It truly was an extremely difficult summer. Let's hold hands and try to walk this out. I'm here, babe, but let's just stick to wine. :)
Erin