Crying Out in the Wilderness

     With the regularity and disruption of an unwelcomed guest, depression is making her rounds once again this winter. I wanted to write about the beauty of the Advent season and the promise of hope, but there is also the problem of running for our lives through the darkness. There is an intentional hustle and bustle that many enjoy during the season of lights, yet there are many of us who are still wandering, fighting and crying in the darkness. I am asking you, dear reader, to remember those who cannot see or enjoy the season of lights this year.

     When most people get a winter cold, they don’t despair because they know that it will run its course and eventually the inconvenience of sniffing and sneezing will end.  Depression also comes back with the regularity of summer allergies or a winter cold. The trouble is that allergies and colds are more common and family and friends are better able to sympathize with you if you sneeze. Uncontrolled fits of crying and mood swings and other bizarre behaviors are harder to handle – no matter how much you may love someone.

     I compare it to hugging a wounded porcupine. The animal has a built in defense system that can damage you as you attempt to give comfort or aid. So it is with the depressed. We will lie and tell you that we are fine. Those of us who are fortunate enough to be single, hide our unwitnessed tearful days and sleepless nights with ease. Those of us who are married or otherwise partnered will find creative ways to disguise our symptoms. We want and need you to hold us close but at the same time we will push you away because of the depth of our pain. We cannot bear to accept and receive what we need most desperately.

     This year, I was caught off guard and although all of the clues were there, I was unable to interpret the clues until the depression had reached a critical point.  I had been irritable, but what frustrated job seeker isn’t? I began to prefer seclusion…which went unnoticed because I have always preferred my solitude. I became painfully aware of an unmet need to be loved and an almost inappropriate joy for any display of affection. At the same time, I experienced a devastatingly inappropriate perception of any and all rejection – exacerbated by my fruitless job search. My epicurean tendencies are no secret but instead of an appreciation for good food and drink, these became my form of self medication and I was fully compliant with my own prescription for repeated doses of comfort food and anesthetizing beverages. The trouble with these behaviors is that they were simply an exaggerated form of what I did on a daily basis and so they went undetected and untreated until they also became ineffective.

     In his memoir, Darkness Visible, William Styron refers to the fellowship that occurs among those who know the ravages of the disease. Fortunately, I have women in my life who know me and know how to read the signs. I am grateful for the daily calls and text messages from my two “sisters” but it was the persistence of one very new and wonderful sister-friend that provided a beacon of light into my personal abyss. She reminded me that she was acquainted with my demon and was praying with and for me. The desperation in her voice reminded me that I was in over my head and needed to confess, concede and conquer – but I did not have to fight the battle all by myself. That was the lifeline that I needed but do not be misled into thinking that the lifeline hoisted me out of the abyss and onto safe ground. All I could do was hold on to the knot at the bottom of the lifeline because I was battle scarred and weary from fighting alone for so long. (This is probably why Jesus sent the disciples out in pairs. There are some things that we cannot do by ourselves. We all need community, no matter how small, rag-tag, unarmed or ill-equipped). Some would say that all you need to do is pray and let God be your community but my pastor used to say that sometimes we need to BE God with skin on. That is what this sister had become for me – God with skin on. I was “ready to see God” on my own terms and instead, God showed up with skin on in the form of this sister.

     It is in this moment that I am reacquainted with the hope of this Advent season. The story of Advent includes the voice of one crying in the wilderness. The story includes dark realities set against a promise of brighter days, and renewed hope in the promises of God. The story includes the star that guides the way to the manger where “unto us a child is born” and as the child is delivered, so are we. The story is one most poignantly understood this year as I realize that my sister-friend was the star leading me through the darkness as I stumbled around desperately seeking the company of that child who is indeed Emmanuel – God with us.

I will close this blog post with an acceptance of two duties.  First, I implore those of you who are able to enjoy the season of lights to be mindful that yours is not a universal reality. If you know or love someone who suffers from depression or has ever shown any symptoms of the illness, please remember that we may be difficult to handle at times but we just need a little extra care and concern for the moment. The wounded porcupine is dangerous but still needs a healing hand. You need not become the therapist or the therapy for that matter but you can be a beacon of light and a source of hope. You have probably heard the reports that suicide rates soar during the holidays and I have no data to support or negate that theory but I can offer this – a little love goes a long way in preventing it. Styron writes,

Most people in the grip of depression at its ghastliest are, for whatever reason, in a state of unrealistic hopelessness, torn by exaggerated ills and fatal threats that bear no resemblance to actuality. It may require on the part of friends, lovers, family, admirers, an almost religious devotion to persuade the sufferers of life’s worth, which is so often in conflict with a sense of their own worthlessness, but such devotion has prevented countless suicides. (Darkness Visible)

Devotion does not translate into becoming a 24/7 prison guard, but it may simply mean that you make yourself available to your loved one in ways that he or she can appreciate. For me, it was morning text messages or phone calls that served as a means of accountability. One sister’s messages give me the leeway to call or text when I am ready. Another sister made it plain that if she did not hear from me within a particular time frame she would drive the hour to my house and break the door down if she had to. (You know I live in the suburbs and don’t want to be kicked out of the condo association, so I return her texts and calls most expeditiously!) Another sister always greets me with “Hey Boo!” which is more than just an affectionate greeting but it also reminds me of a hilarious private joke that we share and just that simple greeting on my voicemail cuts through the fog and helps me to see the light. Be a fog cutter for someone you love in this season of light.

My second duty is to those who suffer. Know that I pray for you from a place of deep knowing and shared pain. Many of you have reached out to me via email and Facebook and I want to encourage you to keep doing so. I am here (by the grace of God) and so I am here for you. LET YOUR FRIENDS HELP YOU. Recognize that help and love will come to you and though they may not come in the form you want, they will come in the form you need. I have a brother who holds my confessions and listens as I spill my innermost pain. He offers no solutions and no judgment. He offers a safe haven for my thoughts and a reassurance that my life is worth living. I have been unemployed and uninsured for months and so I hesitated to see my doctor for fear of racking up more bills that I could not pay. My sisters saw through my veiled attempt to pretend that I was doing well enough on my own prescription of comfort food and wine. I needed to see the doctor and they made it possible. One delivered cash to my doorstep for the cost of the visit and any other unexpected costs. Another sister came to see me and confirm that I was indeed “okay.”  Another sister offered a respite in her home, which she describes as a place of prayer and a place of peace. 

     You are not alone in this journey and I know that there are days when you don’t think that you can make it. I have come out of this particular episode and will loan you a quarter cup of hope from my heart if that’s what it will take to help you hold on for one more day. I don’t know why depression strikes us as it does. I only know that the best way to beat it is to survive it. In this final week of Advent, as we run for our lives and protect that which has been placed inside of us, we are not alone. There is a star to guide us out of the darkness but we will still find ourselves in a cold stable surrounded by animals with whom we keep company but cannot communicate anything but adoration for the baby who will be called Wonderful, Counselor, and Prince of Peace. Weeks ago, I thought I would die as I cried in the wilderness. I cried out, O Come, O Come Emmanuel with a certainty that He would indeed answer. This week, I am still without a job and without medical insurance but I am not without hope. It is my deepest hope that you will fight the fog, follow the star and by all means, meet me at the manger.

Shalom

Music Review : One With You (1-5)

  My love for music crosses all genres and occasionally my listening experience takes me out of myself and into a place where there is nothing but me and the music...and this is one of those projects!  Sometimes, it is hard for me to speak intelligently about music because I do not have the proper vocabulary to describe the tempo and its changes or what the notes do at a particular point in the song. I may not have a professional point of view, but I do have a listener's ear and and words to convey what I hear. I wrote a brief review for this CD on iTunes, but they recommend a 200 word limit for their on-the-go clientele. So, this is part one of my thoughts about this project. I'd love to know what you think too, so I have included links to multiple sites for your listening pleasure and I have also embedded a player in the blog for you!!(The player below has more than the 11 songs on the CD, so don't limit yourself to the 11 under review...help yourself to all of them!)

     
     Greg Stamper is a thoughtful and talented young artist. He blesses listeners weekly with the 'story behind the song' from his blog on Reverbnation. It seems to me that One With You is a great story made up of intriguing characters and told in 11 parts. Each track tells a different story, but all of the stories have one central theme. That theme is divinity. This is not some inaccessible divinity but one that calls to us from familiar places.  These familiar internal places are like happy memories buried in our bones, muscles and tissues.

   God You Are My Joy does not tell the story of the God of a particular denomination. This track is the love song from the vocalist to the God who blessed him with the voice.  God is not found solely in a church but in each of us and this track sends us on an inner journey to connect with the divine that is lodged deep inside! This song puts me in a meditative frame of mind where I can just reflect on how good God has been to me and how lovely that gift is. When I listen to this through my headphones, my head begins to nod and my eyes close and I am transported to a place of private audience with God where my gratitude can just pour out like the notes of this song. My heartbeat and my breath are slowed down by the beat and repetition in the background sounds. The simplicity of the melody pulls me in and then sustains me as the song continues and the music becomes more complex. This song is the ideal meditation cushion!

         Never Giving Up is a melodic journey out of the places where we might be stuck. (Great music to play while sending out resumes! It keeps me going when I'd really like to toss the computer out of the window and go to the mall to pout instead!)  When the time comes for throwing up our hands and screaming, "I QUIT!" the chorus kicks in and we remember that we are not alone and that there is a destiny for each of us! The piano behind the lyrics calls me to a quiet space of prayer and thanksgiving even in the midst of my chaos.  I imagine the piano being played in a small jazz club that provides me with a special kind of prayer closet.  From within my own musical bubble, my eyes close so that I can absorb every note, every rest, every change and every nuance. Inside the bubble, the music becomes a prayer, the chorus a mantra (Can't stop, won't stop, can't stop) and the lyrics sermonically remind me that the only thing to give up is hopelessness! There comes a point when the music changes and  the mantra comes back to remind us that not only will we move forward, but we will not stop moving! The Can't Stop, Won't Stop (around the 4:01 mark) has that timeless Stevie Wonder quality but it also calls me out of my bubble and puts me back into the community of the faithful who are also repeating the mantra of determination and "press-on-full-ness"! (Not in Webster's yet, but I'm working on it!) This is a modern version of "Ain't Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me 'Round" - but with a collective 'me' that includes all of us who are going through tough times!

          Peace.Love.Joy slows things down a little bit.  Even if you have never felt that which we churchy types call 'peace that passes all understanding', as you listen to this track, you suddenly become aware that it is this peace that pushes you to appreciate peace and also to work for that peace. He sings not as a seeker, but as one who can testify to the beauty of peace, love and joy. This is a wonderful tool of evangelism that shares the good news of the gospel - as I hear it.  He does not sing of what he thinks you need. Rather, he sings of what he has found and makes it clear that it is also available to anyone who desires it. He sings of what he has found and his voice has a pure and clean quality that does not coerce...it simply states the good news and welcomes the seeker on the wings of a gentle melody. Notice that this track follows the one about not giving up, so there are no illusions about a life free from struggle. It complements the decision to keep on keeping on no matter how hard it may seem right now. The song is appropriately titled because it simply oozes peace, love and joy with its catchy melody and comforting lyrics. Again, I hear the influence of Stevie Wonder in the background music but that only serves to make it sound sweeter and more familiar to me. This piece demonstrates original creativity influenced by great artists without the stealing or sampling that is heard all too often in today's music.

      Toward Our Wholeness is a wonderful follow-up to Peace.Love.Joy because it continues to tell the story of the wealth of life that is available to you and explains the beckoning that you might have felt while you listened to the previous tracks. This one has a slightly churchy sound that can be recognized in the four notes that come before he sings the words "all of life is a movement toward our wholeness." This is the track that makes me stand up and sway back and forth while holding my hands in the air. This song moves me from theological thought to full-body worship. I would use this song at a baby dedication as the minister prays words of dedication over the child and parents. The song speaks of a wholeness of life that is not confined to a number of days lived but instead recognizes the power of the Divine in each of our lives. The lyrics are clear and what I love most is that the music does not drown out the beautiful simplicity of the thought that our lives are the vehicles taking us into a state of wholeness if we would only allow that Divine spark to catch fire and burn out fear and spiritual poverty. Speaking of a spark, this is the one that would make me raise my lighter at a live performance...or use the flashlight app on my smart phone!

     God-Is-I-Am is the song that made me coin the term Pentecostal-WorldBeat! I can easily hear this beat in the uninhibited worship of a North American Pentecostal church but there is also a flavor to the rhythm that moves it beyond the states and into other parts of the world where people love to sing songs of adoration to God - with or without music, amps, instruments or the other comforts of modern worship.  It has the call and response quality that makes music and preaching so much fun! You can't help but be involved in the music and the message. This song reminds me of the songs that we heard in church when we were young and we knew that the choir would have to sing until we were hoarse because it has that 'can't let go' quality. This is one of those 'can't let go' songs. But the sweet spot is in the message that not only is God great...but because of the Divine in each of us, we can be and are also great! (And it wasn't until 2:45 when Greg says, "Put your hands together" that I realized that I was already keeping time with my hand tapping on my leg as I listened!  Warning: this song may cause spontaneous singing and dancing, so please listen responsibly...or perhaps you should listen responsively!)

    These are my thoughts on the first half of this CD. Stay tuned for my review of the second half! I can only hope that by the time I return with part two of my review that you will at least listen to the free version on Reverbnation. You can also purchase the CD on Amazon and iTunes!  I can't think of a better investment in your own joy and happiness!

Shalom!

Dreams of Candy Coating

     Today is one of those days when I wish that I had been created with a hard candy coating like one of my favorite candies. Today I am emotionally drained.  Today, the heat of life is changing my physical appearance and I am losing my shape and my edges. I am left feeling like a soft puddle of chocolate that still has the same essence and taste but needs to be reshaped - by hand, if you please.  Today, I long for a hard candy shell that would protect my sweet insides from a child's hot little hand. Life, like this happy child, holds me in her pudgy, sweaty palm and while the color drains from my outside, there is still some protection for my malleable and soon-to-be-devoured insides. 

     That candy coating is sweet and though delicate, still tough enough to provide a source of protection for the sweet chocolate goodness on the inside. Sometimes, the candy coating will crack or chip, but the chocolate held inside still finds a place to hold its shape until the moment comes when it too, shall be devoured. Like the chocolate candy, I know that there are times when I will be devoured by the work of living a life of faith, love and hope.  That thin candy coating delays the inevitable if only for a brief moment. 


     I think that our friends and loved ones are well worth what we pour out for them and pour into them. I think that we are all called to invest deeply and carefully in each other's lives from time to time. We are called to be sweet to one another. We are called to love one another. We are called to comfort one another. We are fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of God and not in the image of chocolate encased in a thin candy coating.  I thought about working on ways to simultaneously give my heart and guard my heart but then I realized that the hard candy shell would defeat the purpose and process of unconditional love. It's easy to love those who are guaranteed to give back all that we give to them. One of the authentic marks of love is when it is freely given with no expectation of reciprocity. (I did express that it is one of the authentic marks, not the one that FEELS good all of the time!) So, I have decided to trust God with my naked heart. My heart which is and has been broken more often than I care to tell. My heart that beats in tandem with those who mourn and with those who rejoice. My heart which makes room for those who seem least likely to be lovable - against the advice of my brain, by the way! My heart...the soft chocolatey inside without the guardianship of a hard candy shell.

   Given the opportunity to think, reflect, and return to myself, I have found that I do not wish for a mere candy coating which is subject to crack, dissolve, and also be devoured. What I desire...no, what I will do is trust that I am indeed covered with more than a thin candy coating. I am covered, protected, guided, and loved by something much bigger than anything made by a candy company.  It is this covering that allows me to love freely and fully - even to the point of feeling drained...because there is a place of restoration and return on the love invested in others.

    How can I cover you today?? I will not cover you with a thin layer of sweet colorful candy. I will cover you in my heartfelt prayers and ask God to keep you covered...as the old folks would say - 'through dangers seen and unseen'!  For my friends who are going through a tough time right now and are longing for some kind of covering over your delicate heart...here is a song - and the guarantee of my prayers for you! The sing-er asks the pray-er to cover him...My response is to ask God to cover you!


Shalom -




"Remember to cover me / that i might go in peace 
Remember to keep me lifted / that i might go in spirit
Keep my name on your lips / When you pray remember this:
I need you to cover me"

Water - Blog Action Day

     Today, October 15th is Blog Action Day. 
     What does that mean?
     That simply means that bloggers  from across the globe are writing about one issue and this year's issue is water. I can remember the elementary school lessons that cautioned us about wasting water.  Turn off the faucet while you brush your teeth. Take shorter showers. Don't run the dishwasher or washing machine unless there is a full load. All of these lessons were designed to encourage us to be mindful of our tendencies to waste this precious resource.
     In America, we buy filters and bottled water...because we can! We turn on a faucet and expect water to flow freely. We take long hot showers and at worst are inconvenienced when a family member gets in the shower first and uses all of the hot water. (Although, if we wait long enough, the hot water heater will make another hot shower possible.)We wash dishes in water that is so hot that we need gloves or burn cream. We pour water for our pets and some of us even use bottled water for Fido and Mittens.  We own fish tanks that can hold more water than some people have access to for bathing.  In other countries, people...in particular, Colored Girls...walk for miles to acquire water for their families. I get upset when I have to carry a heavy pallet of bottled water into the house and I become indignant when that same bottled water is not on sale at my favorite grocery store. Thinking about my sisters around the globe puts my indignation in check rather quickly. While I am grumbling along the fifty feet from my car to my front door, they are walking for miles in all manner of weather conditions because a heavy pallet of bottled water is not an option. There is no luxury; there is simply survival.
     This week, a friend posted a song on Facebook that called me to remember my baptism.  I did remember that luxurious baptism in a heated pool in a Baptist Church in northern New Jersey.  I thought of the many happy people who gave me the opportunity to place my hands over theirs as they prepared to confess their faith and be submerged in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  I thought of the deacons who made sure that the pool was sanitary and the room was warm and humid enough to cause a Black woman's hair to frizz hard enough to push her church hat right off of her head! I thought of the joy that consumes us on the day that we are baptized in clean, warm water and then I also thought of the pilgrims who travel to the Ganges for a spiritual cleansing in water that is considered the dirtiest in the world. I wonder if I would have been so happy on the day of my baptism if the water had been brown and muddy. I wonder if I would have been as happy for them to "take me to the water" if I couldn't see the bottom of the pool. I wonder...do we sanitize more than the pool and the water with our processes? (My OCD tendencies are okay with the chlorinated water, but I still wonder...)
     Water is key to our survival as human and spiritual beings. It's funny to me that although many of us have access to this key element, we are still thirsty. We are dying of thirst and there is no relief in sight.  We are holding supersized cups full of so-called energy drinks, and yet we are still dying of thirst and too tired to move.  We have access to living waters, and yet we find ourselves chapped, parched, and desolate inside. 
     Today, I pray that we will be moved to seek that water that satisfies the soul. I pray that we will abandon our filters, our bottles, our designer, mineral, and otherwise overpriced water that does not satisfy. I pray that we will reconsider that which satisfies and pour some out for someone who also needs a sip.  I pray that we would teach our children to be mindful of how they use water as a natural resource, but I also pray that we would teach our children to seek, find, and drink from the Living Waters that satisfy the soul.

Shalom!


Living Water is readily available to all of us. Let's work to make clean water equally available...

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Unemployment Fun

Just for fun, here's a list of things to do when you're unemployed!

• "They" say that you cannot catch up on missed sleep…clearly, "they" didn’t try hard enough! In the early stages of unemployment, you probably need to give your body a little extra loving kindness by way of waking without alarm clocks (unless the kids need your help to get to the bus on time) and mid day naps. You know your body, so if sleep calls…you must answer. The key is to know when to call it quits and go back to a schedule of bedtime and wake time. Unless you have a trust fund or a spouse with unlimited resources, you will probably have to return to a schedule when you return to work, so don’t make it harder on yourself than it needs to be. It's called a nap, not a coma!

• Visit some places that you would not ordinarily have time to visit. Check out the sights in your area. Botanical Gardens, museums, art galleries, and the like. Read the Sunday paper and see what’s happening in your neighborhood.  I attended book signings and poetry readings and live jazz performances that I might not have even noticed had I been working. I was also better able to enjoy these events because there were no distracting thoughts of work to steal my joy. Get out and soak up the free stuff!   (Avoid places like car dealerships, malls, expensive spas and nail salons –unless you have a  gift card or some other equally useful hook-up. These are places which are specifically designed to make you spend what you don’t have. Why tempt fate when you can play for free?)

• Now, about that television thing…be careful because it can be both a comfortable friend and a seductive lover. For the sake of personal restoration, I am in favor of an all day marathon of Season 6 of Gray’s Anatomy, House M.D., Law and Order or your show of choice. Once I get the details of the storyline, I’m good to go. (Go as in go somewhere that is nowhere near the television!) If I watch the daily installments of said television shows, I give control of my time and schedule to the network instead of keeping it for myself.  Go on and splurge on the cheapest Netflix subscription so that you can schedule your marathon to suit your schedule. Then, return the videos and return to something productive!

•  Perfect one of the staples in your cooking repertoire! I like rice and can eat rice with almost any meal. When I worked, I would use the boil in bag kind and call it a night (I am so ashamed)…mostly because I was not secure in my rice cooking skills. Now, I can make an excellent pot of West Indian “cook-up-rice” (rice that has every item in the fridge including leftover chicken, beans or peas and the ever temperamental coconut milk) at the drop of a hat. Now, I no longer mess up a great gourmet meal with below average rice on the side!  You're thinking rice? Really? Yes, I am the child of southerners and I LIKE RICE. I like white rice, brown rice, yellow rice, Spanish rice, wild rice, tame rice, black rice, long grain rice...shoot, I even like Rice A Roni! (Moving on now that I'm beginning to sound like Bubba Blue from Forrest Gump)

• Review your job skills. Take an on-line assessment or two. Pretend that you are actually at work, and keep reading the journals, try something new, find a free seminar or wrangle a scholarship for one with a fee. Stay sharp and carve out time to make it happen. Stay on top of your game so that you can mention it in the interview that is coming your way sooner than you think! Ask yourself...would YOU hire YOU...why or why not?

• Have lunch with the friends you have been missing. You won't be stressed about getting back to work, so you will be a great lunch companion. (But be sensitive to the constraints of your lunch partner - who DOES have a job…no need to be obnoxious about not having a 1:00 appointment!) Schedule these carefully so that you do not upset the delicate balance of money and fun. (And don't assume that just because they have a job that they should pay for your meal! Come prepared to at least go Dutch! Sheesh! We're unemployed not uncouth!)

• Revisit and revise your budget. No one knows how long the season of unemployment will last, so you need to prepare yourself for the potential changes in your lifestyle. Decide now what you are willing to forgo for the good of the bank account. You can keep the high priced phone plan that includes internet service, but do you really need all of those cable channels? This is a personal matter but now that I have unlimited time, I have found ways to move money around and re-evaluate the ways in which I spend. And it helps if you cancel your catalogs or take them directly from the mailbox to the recycling bin. I do love Brooks Brothers but I cannot bear to know that my favorite non-iron shirt is on sale and I cannot order one! (Oh the agony of fiscal responsibility!)

• Don’t get caught up in satiety purchases. I can EASILY spend $50 on magazines in one trip to Barnes and Noble. The county library has most of these magazines but it requires that I sacrifice the comfort of reading on my couch for cost-free reading at the library. These days, you can just read them in the bookstore coffee shop if you prefer - but that's just too tempting for me. My true friends have blessed me with Starbucks gift cards and their "Buy 15 - get one free" coupons so that I can maintain my addiction...umm, I mean appreciation of the coffee of the day, the decaf-breve-white mocha, and passion tea lemonade. (I can quit any time I want to...but I don't have to!)

• Volunteer! It's easy enough. First, think of all of the skills and gifts that you have…are you thinking? Now, think of a great place to put them to use! Recently, I volunteered to work a registration table for a church function. I only knew four people when I arrived at my duty station, but at the end of the day, I had smiled at, chatted with, and assisted hundreds more! (And I wore my big girl church clothes – which was its own reward!) Volunteering helps you to use your gifts for good and it helps others who may need to get something done. Being productive is a good deterrent to the demons that surface during the wee hours when the rejection letters and silent response rejections pour in faster than you can counter with your efforts to 'keep trying'.

• Dig into your spirituality! Meditate, pray, write, read, create, burn incense…do something but do it with greater depth, meaning, love and joy! Who knows, this might lead you to an awareness of what your true calling is! There is also the comfort in knowing that there is a divine force that is waiting to commune with you - in hard times as well as easy times.

•   Go to the doctor before your insurance runs out...and get cleared to go to the gym or to work out at home in front of the television. Remember how you wanted to get in shape but didn’t have the time? Well, now you have plenty of time and you’ll want to be in top shape for the hard work of job hunting! If the saying is true, and it's not what you know but who you know...you just might meet your new co-worker, business partner, or employer on the next treadmill!

•  Finally, but not exhaustively, remember that searching for a job is a job in itself. Set aside blocks of time specifically dedicated to the hunt. It will take some time to do those on line applications, so be prepared. Take your laptop to Starbucks (or McDonalds, or Borders, or wherever you are most comfortable), appreciate the free Wi-Fi and get busy for no less than 3 hours each weekday. No laptop you say? The library awaits...and it's FREE! You would (probably) be at work for at least 8 hours on a regular day, so don’t get out of the habit of working for specific blocks of time. And of course, after a week of serious and dedicated job hunting, feel free to treat yourself to a drink and an appetizer at your favorite happy hour spot!

May you find Grace and Peace in your season of unemployment.

 

Poem: Pink Ribbon Baby

Pink Ribbon Baby

You could have settled anywhere
But you chose to nurse at my breast
The left one
Near my heart

Bastard

Created by co-mingling
Not from co-mmitment

Nestled inside me
Cells of my cells
Flesh of my flesh
Forcing feedings
Round the clock

Growing
Growing
Growing

No one dares stroke the womb
The warm womb that feeds you

As your mother, I should warn you
My body knows how to miscarry
Perhaps - even you -
     My bastard clump of splitting cells
Nursing at my breast
The left one
Closest to my heart

by Carla A. Jones

Reverendsister's Ink 2010

Smashing into the Truth

One year ago today, (October 2, 2009) I walked away from an awful car accident. I was neither texting nor talking on a cell phone when it happened.  I simply ran into the back of the minivan in front of me. I had just left the place which would come to be listed on job applications as my most recent (former) place of employment and I was on my way to what would have been my last doctor appointment while covered by health insurance. All I know is that I looked up and suddenly found myself behind the wheel of a car that was hurtling into the stationary minivan in front of me. I escaped the accident with only a minor scratch inflicted by the force of the seat belt against my breast cancer awareness lapel pin and the bruises from the lap portion of my seatbelt.

There were all manner of conclusions drawn from this event. My personal favorite is the ever-churchy-but-not-always-useful "Maybe God is trying to tell you something." In my long history of less than careful driving, God could have told me something about my driving through the oracle of a car crash long ago. No, this crash was the beginning of a new story and not a hint of the old one.  If not for the car crash and the other situations which also crashed and burned on every side...I might not be...here. (Anybody got a GPS I can borrow because I'm still not really sure where here is!) The surrounding flames included the death of a bad marriage, the loss of a church 'family' (connected to the drama of the divorce), and the sobering revelation that several of my friendships lacked a certain level of reciprocity.

I woke up on the anniversary of the crash in what can best be described as a "pissy" mood. And that's really saying something because I have an extensive vocabulary but "pissy" is the most accurate word I can find. You see, one year later, I am again wondering what I will do for transportation since my current vehicle is sitting in front of my home - unable to get into gear. (Not because I crashed into something but because it has just crashed and burned on its own. God rest the dead.) The good news is that I am still a card carrying member of the Congregation of the Talented Yet Unemployed, so lack of transportation will not keep me from getting to work. I can always walk the mile down the street to the grocery store, so I won't starve and there are the three faithful sister-friends who have already offered to take me to the store if I need anything.  I will remain faithful to my commitment to avoid using my blog as a venue for whining and will point you in the general direction of my "pissiness" which is not uniquely relegated to me. Bear with me as I show you the view through my cracked, scratched, dirt-caked yet still rose-tinted glasses.

On this, the anniversary of what I thought was a new era in my life, I am frustrated and downright angry because despite the encouragement of my friends and others who know my work, I still have not found a job. Of course, I have been accused of being over-qualified (and I ask, in this age of celebrated mediocrity, what exactly is the working definition for over-qualified these days?). I have been accused of applying for jobs that will indicate that I have somehow settled for something that is beneath me. Last time I checked, the only thing beneath me was the ground. As my father once told me, I like to eat too much to think that there is a job that is beneath me.  I will scrub a toilet for the privilege of buying fresh fruits and vegetables at Whole Foods and the local farmer's market.  What I do feel is cheated. As an American, I feel entitled to certain 'rewards'. With the debt that I have accumulated as a student, I feel entitled to a job that will at least allow me to use that education in a venue which will also permit me to live comfortably. (Just so we are clear, now is NOT the time for ye olde Bible thumpers to remind me of heavenly rewards. The only way to reap heavenly rewards it to die and go to heaven...so, I'm not trying to hear that right now.) I am painfully aware, as are many in my same socio-and-economic position, that these comments are couched in a certain level of privilege...so please don't think that I have forgotten my station. I am simply trying to point out that there are many like me who have followed the rules and are wondering why it feels like it would have been better to have played the lottery or at least to play dirty from time to time.  Some of us believe that if you do what you love, the money will come but that has not been true for me. I loved teaching, but not only did the money not come, I also had to invest what I had in my students - in the form of school supplies, food, supplemental texts, etc. I love ministry and preaching...but...err..ah...yeah, let's just put that one on the shelf for another day because as you know, it's complicated!

On this, the anniversary of the accident, I am in a "pissy" mood because there are those who are not willing to merely listen to the rant of the (relatively) disenfranchised and would prefer that we just keep looking for a new job, a new mate, a new church or other suitable replacement for whatever we have lost...and just get over it. Ah, that's the nerve I wanted to touch. Get over it? Have we become such a selfish and cold-hearted society that our only response to pain (regardless of our unqualified assessment of someone else's pain) is 'get over it'? I am by no means advocating for wallowing in our sorrows, but I am asking us to stop stealing grief from one another. Your friends and family members may be dealing with repeated rejection (in and out of the job market), feelings of low self-worth (connected to an inability to provide for themselves or their loved ones), deep-seated heartbreak (embedded in the inability to live in the fullness of their sexual identity), and spiritual psychoses (you're not really looking for a parenthetical comment here, are you?).

On this, the anniversary of the accident, I had a liberating conversation with a brilliant and caring sister who reminded me that this blog can tell the 'good news' without sounding particularly happy.  She reminded me that the mere ability to identify and tell the truth of my experience is in and of itself the good news. So, on my anniversary, I am not having a pity party. I am, however, celebrating the truth in all of its ugliness and all of its beauty. In my "pissy" state of mind, I am able to sit with the truth and see it without the aid of my rose-tinted corrective lenses.  I don't need to fix, change, or struggle against it because it is not a static reality or the final and only reality. It is merely today's reality.


Shalom!

Yes, I could have chosen the straight Beyonce version, but this is my kind of smashing - if only into myself!

It's Complicated

 My mother's recurring Sunday afternoon question came through the Bluetooth earpiece as I walked through Staples looking for some office supplies. "Did you go to church today?" Embedded in that question are images of shrieking dead people trying to stay afloat in the lake of fire and I think that she sees my face in the center of the lake - going down for the third and final time. I think that she has the original scroll containing the amendment to the ten commandments that reads, "Thou shalt go to church or thou shalt end up in hell!" You have to love her though. She and many of her generation are of the opinion that some church is better than no church. (But if you want to make her cuss, just ask about tithing, church meetings, and the pastor's mode of transportation in the same conversation!) At one point in my life, I might have agreed with her. After eighteen years of compulsory Sunday School and church attendance, the rebellious and curious college/young adult years, a brief period of gorging on televangelists (such as Creflo Dollar, Joyce Meyer, TD Jakes, and Gilbert Earl Patterson), three wonderful and enlightening years at Princeton Seminary followed by seven years of...umm...seeing the church from the inside out, all I can say about my relationship with the church is...It's Complicated. 

Now, before you start fasting, praying and sneaking up to my home to anoint the doors and windows with holy water and oil, let me simply say that I am not anti-church. I am just wrestling with the schizophrenia that is a result of being an ordained minister whose innocence has been snatched away by the same hands that held the communion cup and the collection plate. I used to think church was a safe space until I experienced sexual harassment by a so called man-of-God...who was neither 'a (real) man' nor 'of God' as he inappropriately and repeatedly crossed boundaries with an unholy boldness. The problem with the solution to 'my problem' was that he was not sanctioned for his actions but rather, I was removed from the space formerly known to me as a house of worship. The space remained unsafe for his next victim and he was never called to task for his inappropriate behavior. I had to find my own footing after the incident because while there was no consequence for the perpetrator, neither was there a place of healing for the victim. So, when you see me crying as we sing "There Is A Balm In Gilead" as the congregational hymn, just pass me a tissue because - It's Complicated.

I have seen wonderful examples of pastoral leadership by men and women who are admirable yet fallible.   I have witnessed acts of great humility and acts of unbelievable arrogance. I have been a co-conspirator to acts of benign neglect and acts of gross misconduct from the pulpit but to name those acts means naming my other co-conspirators (and we all play a role even if it is the role of silent partner by not calling others out for their poor choices) and we just don't do enough of that.  We also need a better way of pushing for what is right. What I have seen all to often is that the behavior is called out but without any serious follow up.  I have seen and participated in acts of behind the scenes intervention among fellow clergy but without a clear way to identify our issues and the courage to face and conquer our demons, there is always the chance that we will return to our familiar places of arrogance and ignorance.  That becomes most problematic when we forget that there are people in our congregations who look to us for leadership and to be an example - not just for how to bounce back from failure (hell, you can get that from the self-help section of any bookstore or library) but also an example of how to work daily to get it as right as possible. So, as one who has been both congregational follower and clergy leader (but not pastor), I'll need your prayers as I try to strike a balance here but please remember - It's Complicated.

This past year has been one of the most difficult times in my adult life and as a member of a wide circle of friends - both churched and unchurched, I am embarrassed to say that some of my most consistent caregivers and friends in the time of need were the ones who lovingly refer to themselves as 'my heathen friends'. These are not bible-thumping, pew-jumping church leaders or even faithful church members but they are clearly under the influence of a loving God because when I was hungry, they fed me. When I was thirsty, they gave me something to drink. When I was a stranger, they invited me in. When I was naked, they clothed me. When I was sick, they visited me. When I was a captive -even of my own negative thoughts and self-destructive behaviors - they worked tirelessly to set me free. The sweetest part is that not once did any of them ask, "So, where are all of your fancy-schmancy church friends now?"  Not once did they indict the church folk for their minimal participation in my healing process. They just came along like the Good Samaritan in the biblical parable and took care of business. Unfortunately, a pastor told me that their kindness would not last but the church would always be there. Yes, the church is still standing - an cold empty building that neither bleeds nor cries and my "heathen" friends are still here - in an Emmanuel-esque "with me" kind of way. So I'll ask you to forgive me if I can't find the energy to go to church this week and stand in the place of honor with the other Priests and Levites who walked past me on the Jericho road (see parable of Good Samaritan) because you see - It's Complicated.

My relationship with God is simple but my relationship with the church is complicated. I love God's people but we are messy and that makes our relationships complicated. The church is an institution and it has been a place of learning, growth and happiness for me. It has also been a place of great disappointment, heartbreak and contradiction and as such, It's Complicated! And when you suggest to me that I should just leave if it is so bad, my response will still be that I cannot leave yet because It's Complicated! 

A brilliant pastor friend of mine suggested to me that perhaps we must become the church we thought we would inherit from our Grandmothers. Perhaps he is right. Maybe the only way to get what we need is by becoming what we expected to see. I believe in God, Jesus, the Christ, and the Holy Spirit. I believe that we are called to be God's people in community and not in isolation. I believe that church members and church leaders must have clarity, standards, courage and hearts that are open to new ways of being the Church. The good news is that I am still in a relationship with the church - complicated though it may be. Don't worry about me when I don't go to church for a few weeks and I tell you that's because It's Complicated. Worry about me when I stop asking the questions and wrestling with the issues that make it complicated. (In the meantime, maybe I should just talk to my mother on Wednesdays so we can just discuss the latest happenings on The Young And The Restless.)

Grace and Peace!

Although I am not a fan of Nivea, I like the idea of a love song that makes reference to things being complicated! (Insert 'church' where she says 'boy')

Let Us Pray

When I say or hear the words "Let Us Pray", it is usually an invitation or a call to action. Today, I say "Let Us Pray" as someone who simply wants to join hands and pray with those whose first amendment rights appear to be under negotiation. I have had a hard time witnessing the debates about the  Mosque/community center/Park51 architectural project. There are many points of departure for the debates and I am not going to use this blog to create just one more space for those arguments to continue. I am, however asking you to hear me as I say,"Let Us Pray".

Within my own Christian community, there are those who I would never ask to pray for me - for a variety of reasons better shared in a more light-hearted blog entry.  My right to decide who I will agree to pray with does not have a tandem clause that grants me the authority to take away another person's right to pray regardless of their deity of choice.

In this brief blog entry, I am asking those of us who hear "Let Us Pray" from a position of privilege to consider this as we exercise that right and responsibility...let us take a moment to hear and perhaps be an answer to the prayers of those (American citizens) in Manhattan and elsewhere who are begging for permission...as if it is ours to give, take or negotiate..."Won't you please, just Let Us Pray?"

Shalom
(Stay tuned for my forthcoming blog entitled, "In a Relationship (with God) and It's Complicated")

Here is a link to a thought provoking (and possibly prayer inducing) article regarding Islam in America
Islam in America (August 30, 2010 Time Magazine Cover story)