Author: Melody Harrison Hanson

I’m an overthinker and incessant seeker. I’m grateful for God’s grace. I write poetic thoughts and offer original photographs. I hope you will stay and read for a while. All photography and words are mine unless noted.

Resolutions for 2010

My New Years Resolutions …

I will Learn. See. Respond. Be …

  1. I will give more of my time, voice, and energy to the disadvantaged, oppressed, and forgotten in my community. (Immigrants, LGBT, homeless, unwed mothers, the illiterate.)  To put myself in situations where I am the ethnic minority.  If given opportunity, I will tell their stories through word and image.
  2. I will grow more of our own food.  I will learn to can.  I will shop locally, especially community based privately owned businesses.
  3. I will save more, spend less. I will live on a budget. I will continue to not buy clothes for myself for a year, until October, 2010.   I will use the library.
  4. I will help us be a connected family. I will turn off electronics while the kids are awake. I will turn off electronics 4-8pm. And do more together. (e.g. Go to ballgames, the symphony & opera,  plays (The Lion King), go camping, …)  We will call cousins and other family members.
  5. I will continue to work at staying depression free. I will work the 12 steps.  I will exercise every day, if only 20 minutes.  I will taper off Effexor.
  6. I will write for an hour every day of the work week.  About … What I am thankful for.  What I want to know.  What I think.  Who I need to hear from.
  7. I will read with intentionality. (On race, gender & the church, faith, poverty, global issues …)
  8. I will play my piano and find an avenue to sing.
  9. I will work on a photography project with the goal of a gallery showing and work on a website for online sales & exhibition.
  10. I will take Tom to Big Ben before he’s 50.

A year of  images : the people, places and things. I shot this year. (This will take you to a SET of my photography on the www. flickr.com.  Click on SLIDE SHOW in the upper right hand corner when you get there.)

Be well, friends.  Be well.  And if you feel like it, drop me a word about what you’d like to accomplish in 2010.

be well

I hope your Christmas is slow and meaningful.

Hug someone.

Stop. Smile at a stranger.

Reflect on blessings, big and small.

Do something generous and unexpected.

Thank God you are with people you love.

See the beauty in life.

Be well.

For Everything there is a Season

It is George Bernard Shaw that said what is the true joy in life,

“the being used for a purpose

recognized by yourself as a mighty one;

the being thoroughly worn out before you are thrown on the scrap heap;

the being a force of nature

instead of a feverish selfish little clod of ailments and grievances

complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy.”

I am starting to feel a such a sense of self-loathing because I need more to do with myself.   Do I have an utterly solipsistic life?  Not to be overly dramatic, but the care and well-being of my children is simply not enough.  I have wrestled with the demon and shame of that for nine years, since I quit working  at InterVarsity and began to take care of my kids full-time.  Even at the beginning, when I was trying to decide I never believed it would be enough for me.  And tho there have been wonderful moments, it has not been satisfying, not really.  How do you live with the knowledge that you should not have made the decision that you did?  I could hardly admit that after walking away from a really amazing job.  But my situation at work had grown intolerable and seemed impossible to fix.  So after nearly a year of soul-searching  — I quit .  I chose to become an at-home mom. Even while I was changing diapers and wiping noses, singing songs and cuddling, wiping away tears and reading stories — all thoroughly wonderful things, mind you — I struggled.  Though I know many, many women (and some men) do find it to be full of purpose, I was confused, very lonely, sad and missing my work.

Of course I questioned myself!  For all those years, thirteen at InterVarsity and nine years of being at home, I was searching internally for a sense of  my purpose.   At IV I was constantly pushing people and myself to try new things more out of a sense of my need for change and overworking as well.  I was frantic and dissatisfied most of the time.  So I don’t want to give the impression that WORK was a panacea or mecca.  I have searched for ultimate purpose my whole life and I still am looking.

On one level, have a father who was so dynamic and incredible made me expect more — of myself, of my work, of my life.

I think this blog was in part trying to sort that out.  Talk about things that are important to me.  Wrestle with ideas, doubt, passions and self-absorption, say something important or  at least interesting.  It was a venue for my poetry and a way to get feedback on it.

I once was a human dynamo, even while learning the hard way how to treat others with the dignity and with the care they deserved.  I had failures which I feel deep sorrow.  I could name the people whose lives I hurt as a leader or manager and I have such regret. But at the time I was so full of my accomplishments that it didn’t slow me down.  While I was making mistakes I was also accomplishing a lot (some of it good, a few things I consider great) and people were affirming and promoting me.  As I have mentioned at other times, I had altercations with another leader and that conflict became too much for me .  It wasn’t worth it after a while.  I had reached a place of resistance and no-where to go in the organization without running into this person.  I guess you could say they ‘won’ if it was a competition (which it felt like) and I lost by walking away.

When I left work to be at home  full-time, I was at first almost giddy with how simple it was.  Uncomplicated.  The sameness of the days was a relief after all that unpredictable infighting and conflict!  And then it wasn’t so great.  More like Ground Hod Day, if you have seen the movie.  The same day over and over, the alarm ringing and waking to realize it is THAT DAY again and again and again.

“Don’t waste life in doubts and fears; spend yourself on the work before you, well assured that the right performance of this hour’s duties will be the best preparation for the hours and ages that will follow it.”  — Ralph Waldo Emerson

What being at home did, with one day indistinguishable from the next, was to strip it all away — shattering the persona I had created and forcing me to look hard at my internal grid work.  I had to face and try to understand my family of origin.  While caring for my kids,  the successful person that I had been was unimportant, even irrelevant.  And I had no choice but to face myself — look in the mirror and frankly I wasn’t very happy with what I saw.

Through it, I was overcome by a deep, deep depression.  It hit most powerfully over two months and because I didn’t know what was happening to me I thought I was going mad.  Crazy.  Cuckoo.  Insane.  And I was utterly helpless to help myself.  I couldn’t make decisions.  I couldn’t sleep.  I couldn’t DO anything.  I had no energy, my mind was sludge, my heart felt like it might stop.

I remember talking to my dad on the phone, sitting on my backporch in the beautiful warn summer sunshine, saying “Dad, I just want to be happy.”  That was June.  He mailed me a plaque that said “You are the one Jesus loves” and  at the time my skin crawled at the thought!  I had absolutely lost any idea of God’s grace in my life or belief in His  individual love for me.  I was in the pit of despair and I did not believe it.  If I were the only one that existed, I would be loved by Jesus.   Little did I know this was to become a theme over the next years as I began to fight with God over his approval and affirmation.

In October my parents came to visit and I had manage to get myself functional.  My dad acted wierd and kind of mean, but he has always been slightly mean so I thought nothing of it.  Then in November he was diagnosed with brain tumors and we discovered his tumors had made him behave oddly for some time.

By May of the next year he was dead, but he was “gone” long before that.  After surgery, chemo and radiation he was gone.  He never said my name after his December surgery but he did call me Linda, once.  My mother went into treatment that April and was sober to see my dad die.  We’re all grateful for that.  Her alcoholism, his illness and death, my depression, my own alcoholism which I couldn’t accept, continuing to care for three young children…  You can imagine it was an ugly few years.  I am most grateful for Tom hanging in there with me and even more than just hanging, he helped fight for me and got me back into a place of genuine health.

Through those years, I struggled to do the hard work of therapy and if anyone has never done therapy you really have no idea how much work it is.  Weekly and sometimes twice a week at first, which turned into years of work.  I won’t go into all the detail here (too much was happening) but I have had episodes off and on with the depression for these many years.  With medication, several doctor’s care, a hospitalization after a suicide attempt, the care and long-suffering of Tom, much prayer and internal work which became eternal work,

I faced that I had become an alcoholic,

I faced that I needed to learn to love myself,

I faced that all of this around me (stuff & things) mattered not a whit,

I faced my loneliness,

I faced my insecurities developed from a lifetime of feeling my parents didn’t approve,

I faced a pathological need to be perfect,

I faced that I start and quit many things – I’m good at starting things and have more trouble with maintaining them;

I faced that I was tired of being at home, …

_______

Jeez, that makes me one crazy messed up woman that no-one will want to hire.  yes, that’s what the voices in my head began to say.

For everything there is a season,

And a time for every matter under heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die;

A time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;

A time to kill, and a time to heal;

A time to break down, and a time to build up;

A time to weep, and a time to laugh;

A time to mourn, and a time to dance;

A time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;

A time to embrace, And a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to seek, and a time to lose;

A time to keep, and a time to throw away;

A time to tear, and a time to sew;

A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

A time to love, and a time to hate,

A time for war, and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

I have carried many stones.  Lost so much.  Wept an ocean inside.  Seen death and mourning.

I am ready to dance, to seek and listen.  I am eager to know what it is that I am here to do.  My advent lament was to cry out for God to speak.

James Thurber said:

All men should strive to learn before they die, what they are running from, and to, and why.

Stay tuned as I learn to dance, seek and listen!

whatever you did not do for one of the least of these

My house is warm and I sit here comfortably in front of my laptop, the Christmas lights twinkling in the background.  Tom’s face is glowing from his own laptop.  It’s quiet and the music from this short film (below) is playing.  Please watch this short film.

It’s difficult to think about homelessness now, during this season of comfort and beauty, intimacy with family and friends, connection, goodness and abundance.  But you see it is only that for some of us.  For many Americans next Friday, Christmas day, will be like this Friday, and the one that comes after that.

Tonight, anywhere from 700,000 to 2 million people are homeless in America. The homeless population is about 50 % African-American, 35 % white, 12 % Hispanic, 2 % Native American and 1 % Asian according to the National Law Center on Homelessness and Poverty.

Last year was the first year on record, according to an annual study conducted by the National Low Income Housing Coalition, that a full-time worker at minimum wage could not afford a one-bedroom apartment anywhere in the country at average market rates.

At this time of such warmth, figuratively and literally, I think we should stop for a brief moment and reflect on our abundance.  I was struck during the climate change talks in Copenhagen, the spokespeople for the poor nations of the world kept saying things like: “You are not serious about global warming, because it doesn’t make any difference in your day to day life.  We are because it is a matter of survival.”

What does God think about our national greed and selfishness?  The homeless in our inner cities or on State street here in Madison, the teenagers hanging out in malls and public areas covered in piercings and goth clothing, the workers at Copps grochery store who clearly hate life and quite possibly hate you too, the cashier at the gas station clearly not from “here”, or the faceless people on the receiving end of food banks that our churches and school supply? What does God think about children going to be hungry?

What do you or I think about these people who if we actually notice them push us outside of our comfort zones?

I wonder who is just surviving this holiday — literally.  Who is hungry.  Who is cold?  And what I should do about it?

Jesus said:

“I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.” (Matthew 25:45).

I don’t have the answers, but I think it is worth asking ourselves what then should we do?

Some reads about Homelessness:

  • Without a Net: Middle Class and Homeless (with Kids) in America, (Viking Adult, 2005), Michelle Kennedy, about her experiences being homeless for several months in 1997 after her marriage fell apart.
  • Tell Them Who I Am: The Lives of Homeless Women (Penguin,1995), Elliot Liebow, demolishes the anonymity of the homeless. Skillfully blending a social scientist’s objectivity with humanitarian concern, he observes women who live in a variety of shelters near Washington, D.C.–how they interact with one another, family and shelter staff; pass their days; and struggle to retain their dignity in the face of rejection by society.
  • Lastly, this is a moving set of images of women striving to survive and feed their children from the New York Post (if I remember correctly.)

A year without new Clothes

I have always been the sort of person that appreciates aesthetics which I think are an outward expression of a person’s creativity.

I wrote here about how I decided to buy no clothes for myself for a year.  Confronted by our consumer culture and my own guilty part in it, as well as trying to raise my daughter and sons with the values I deeply believe in, I was surprise by how much I wanted to do this and was also scared that I was too weak to carry out this commitment.  A part of me also wondered how I might change if I weren’t so conscious of myself and weren’t “consuming” all the time.   In just a few months I am aware of how much we HAVE.

God has worked on my relationship to money for years, especially when I quit working (for money) nine years ago.

My relationship with money is somewhat dysfunctional. Being a missionary kid, I grew up with hand-me-downs (from my sister, who got them from the missionary barrel.  Yes, there is such a thing.  A place where missionaries go to get clothing others have discarded.  Like the Goodwill, but free.)  So as a teen I became laser sharp in my awareness of the latest styles which I would never have.  It was an unhealthy habit but I spent lots of internal energy on my lack. Although my parents were good and generous people, and we never really lacked anything important, I thought we did.  I always had what I needed, but not what I wanted.

So as an adult God has been pruning away at my fixation on external.  The thing in me when I am down on campus that notices subtle changes in college style trends.   Or what’s happening in magazines.  Or what the old money people wear and have.  I see these things and I want their life.  I pay attention.  And I really loath it, but it’s been a long road of coming to believe that it really matters not a whit in who I am.  Not really.  A Land Rover versus a Honda.  A Coach bag vs. TJMaxx.  Cashmere vs. a blend.  Anthropolie vs.IKEA.  My mind is always running on these lines and I know it is superficial and ugly.  I am loved without all that, … aren’t I …

But the missionary kid in hand-me-downs just isn’t quite sure she believes.

My thoughts are very often superficial.  I’ve had the moments in the last two months of freaking out as I really, really want something and then I breathe and step back and realize there is very little that I actually need.  As I walk away from a pair of boots, I realize that what I have is enough.  And I am so blessed and it is sufficient.   And besides in my current life of slogging after children, and trooping around town to carry out various tasks, my feet simply need comfort and warmth, not style!

After the first few days of living with this pledge it was a matter of changing my mindset of always being on the prowl for the “find” — the deal I can’t live without —  and I found I actually began to have much more time, energy and confidence for new ideas and what I might do with my time and resources.  I had a lot of ideas.  And a flurry of writing.  And my mind and heart were full of potential.

I have much more empathy.  I spent a recent snow day worrying over and over again about the school kids who I know eat breakfast and lunch at school — would they be hungry today?  Would their parent/s have to miss work or would those kids spend the day unsupervised, while I and my children enjoyed snow angels, hot chocolate and baking cookies.

Our abundance overwhelms me and I hope I am more present  in our bounty.

So although I am still aware of what others are wearing, conscious of magazines and television’s pressures, this adventure of living without new clothes is helping me learn a little better who I am.  I have more time to BE.  And to hangout and do things with my kids, and that can’t be purchased!

It really is priceless.

clever by emma

I know I’m a proud mama, but this poem is amazing.

clever

by emma, 12 years old

I am witty and clever.
I wonder why people fight.
I hear everything.
I see people.
I want fairness.
I am witty and clever.

I pretend I can fly.
I feel weightless.
I touch the cold metal.
I worry about change.
I cry like crazy.
I am witty and clever.

I understand pain.
I say ‘laughing is good.’
I dream about life.
I try so hard.
I am witty and clever.

I hope you keep your nose clean in 2010!

When I told him that I was going to use the ‘nose pickin’ shot for our Christmas photo, he protested loudly. So I asked, “Then why did you stick your fingers up your nose?” And he looked at me like why – would – I- not?  Oh, the innocence of being eight.

remembering being eight

When I was eight my parents decided to move. We were pulled out of school in tropical Papua New Guinea where we had grown up.  We were put up a grade level, when we arrived in southern California.

My few memories of that time were not understanding what was going on at school, having a make fun of me, having an Aussie accent, missing my life long friend Carol, all of a sudden noticing clothes.  Bell bottoms were in and my father had white leather shoes and belt, which he wore with brown bell bottoms and a dark shirt Oh yeah, he was stylin’!

We took vacations to woods of northern California to visit my aunt Beth and uncle Loren (my father’s sister) and and got to sleep in a tent. Picking blackberries and then eating the best blackberry cobbler in the world made by my aunt, warm from the oven! We also visited cousins over Christmas, also in northern California, who were older  by a few years, and I thought were cool! They listened to “Rock Music” which my father thought was “of the Devil” — which made them even more cool.

But I also remember this was when I started not doing homework. Thinking I wasn’t smart. Hiding in my room. Trying to be invisible. Reading thousands of books, while I was hiding in my room, being invisible and not doing homework.  (This happened later in Texas as well.)

traditions past and present

Now I have my own family and I’m trying to figure out what traditions from our childhood are important to me. We had things imposed up on us when we were children. It was never “shall we read a Christmas story together?” but rather “Come in here and listen to Dad read a story. Now!” I mean what kid doesn’t want a story read to them? Unless they are never given the option to say no. Sorry, I digress.

Traditions: Reading Christmas stories, putting together a Christmas puzzle, cutting down our tree and putting it up over Thanksgiving weekend, baking Christmas cookies and sharing them with friends and neighbors, making fudge for friends & Tom’s colleagues, going to church on Christmas eve, … what are your favorites? I told you I’m working on developing mine.

dwelling on the past

I’ve have felt convicted of the fact that I dwell so much on the past. It’s true that I do at times seem stuck and unable to let go of my past. Unable to resolve things in the past and unable to live in the now. Guilty as charged.  My excuse to myself is that I have a memoir in there and I need to get it written and then let it go.  We’ll see.

friendship

Of late, I’ve also been convicted of the fact that I am not a very good friend. I am so afraid of rejection and I am lazy. My feelings parallel the feelings of my kids at times and I am saddened because I am 43. I should be at a better place. If it’s any consolation, our matriarch is even more isolated than I am.

buy nothing for myself

You may have been wondering how the ‘buy nothing for myself for 365 days” project is going? I made that pledge to myself on October 7th and thus far I have stuck to it. I can’t tell you how many times I have this impulse to go shop for myself because I was feeling down. It’s like crack! But the high doesn’t last.

So no, I have not bought:

  • a new coat, though mine feel out of date (as in not bought this year.)
  • new boots, even though boots are ‘it’ this year, long leather boots. And mine are almost ten years old and my brown pair are suede.  Who buys suede boots in Wisconsin, though beautiful they just might be the most impractical thing I have ever purchased.  You can’t wear them 90% of the year because of a) snow or b) it’s too warm.  …But no I haven’t bought either brown or black.
  • I didn’t buy a Christmas outfit which ended up being no big deal.  I mean what is that anyway.  I don’t really like any of the red in my closet.  “I’m not a red person” as my kiddos would say, though I’ve been told I look good in it.  My son says he’s not a “collar person.” Sigh, we still have some work to do.
  • I haven’t purchased pants even though mine are all tight (e.g. I am fat) and I’m just going to have to lose the weight.
  • Not bought new tights even though some oldies have holes.  (Sorry) Wear them with pants.
  • And I have not bought the cute, cute cute hats at the craft shows I’ve attended, and pins, and … stop.

I go to my closet daily (like everyone does) and I try to come up with something interesting and I have to say that it has been fun. I appreciate what I have much, much, much more.  I have been more creative and I often find myself thinking, “What- were- you- thinking?” when you bought that!?  Because I don’t try anything on so I have lots of things that fit only so so. What a stupid thing.

When I do shop for myself again, in 2010, October, I will always try it on, I will care about quality over price, perhaps spend a little more on things that I know I will wear a lot. The quantity of my shopping in the past has forced me to buy lower quality and as I look at what I have I am seeing it differently all of a sudden. Truly seeing my stuff is priceless.

And finally, (I hope you will) watch this astoundingly simple and profoundly good video on consumerism.

http://qideas.org/video/consumerism.aspx

I have to admit that it is difficult to not get caught up in the idea that Christmas is about presents.  I love giving them!  But, it’s all a part of a giant addiction too and I for one want to quit.

As for my other ones, I am happy to say that I am alcohol free 17 mos, and nicotine free 9 months!  Yay me.  I am proud of myself.  Though it hasn’t been all me – having a family keeps me accountable.  And I do believe that God is giving me extra strength to endure times when it may be difficult.

This is not some official report on the year, just had a number of things bubbling around in my brain.

P.S.  I did NOT use this photo for our Christmas photograph.  :-)

merry merry

“I am not alone at all, I thought. I was never alone at all. And that, of course, is the message of Christmas. We are never alone. Not when the night is darkest, the wind coldest, the world seemingly most indifferent. For this is still the time God chooses.” [Taylor Caldwell]

Wishing you a merry, merry time as you close out the year and celebrate life and love together.

P.S. pictures I’ve taken in 2009 are found at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/m_e_l_o_d_y/

get.me.off.this.ride

hey!  is anyone listening?  yeah you. God!

i.wanna. get. off. this. ride. you. got. me. on.

i am not the One you think I am.

i. am. not. good.

i. am. no. good.  i am no different from him.

oh i may not let the rage outside. but the stream of anger is W.A.I.L.I.N.G.

inside. polluting. my. mind. like. a. pinball. arcade. pow. pow. pa pow.

get. me. outta. here. i. say. get me away from your Children.

away from the hunger.fear.grief.self-hatred.shame.need.regret.poverty.addiction.cold.

your people are so c o l d.  cause old.man.winter’s blowin’ in.

give back, He whispers. you are forgiven.

the warm Breath of His Spirit Swirls Around.

Give back. You can.

And then I begin to hear it, the rhythm.  The pulse inside me and out. A quiet far away beat. Tu – tu – TU.  It’s repeated in my heart.  My stomach.  My soul.  My head.  It tickles my ear. It moves in my feet.   give.you.can.give.

Give. You. Can.  Cause you are forgiven.  I am hope.

I say Now that’s enough reason. Yeah, I hear you now, Tu – tu – TU whispered to me.  Yes, I am stepping back in.

They refused to obey. And they were not mindful of Your wonders that you did among them. But they hardened their necks, and in their rebellion they appointed a leader to return to their bondage.  But You are God, ready to pardon, gracious and merciful, slow to anger, abundant in kindness, and did not forsake them. 
[Neh. 9:17 (NKJV)]

Advent Lament: My Endless and Voluminous Need

Some have said Advent is an opportunity to walk into the dark night of the soul, as Nouwen called it. This works for me.  As I sat in church yesterday I felt unsettled and angry.  Stirred by the challenges of my life I felt a heightened awareness of my need — my endless and voluminous need.

For some weeks I have had a growing sense of discomfort.  This happens to me from time to time, though years can pass in between.  It is a strange unwelcome melancholy that affects me emotionally, spiritually, and physically.  In can bring a new level of understanding, a softening, an unfolding of my heart.

But in what I have come to know as predictable, my inner self resists.  I find myself becoming angry, distrusting, and irritated.  I do not know why I respond this way, only that it has come enough times in my life that I recognize it.  It may take me a while, days or weeks to finally see it for what it is, but then as I face it, the unsettling of my soul, I understand why nothing seems right, no one pleases me, and everything is causing a level of increasing frustration.

Especially expectations of Christmas, stated and unspoken.  I am overly aware of money or lack of it, kitsch or classy decorations, who is spending or not, and how special I can make things for my children and family.  This focus on material becomes enormous, crowding out what’s going on inside me.

My every sense is magnified. My heart tells me it is impossible to resolve all the conflict in my heart.

For the first time in a while I responded by writing a lament to God.  Restricted by the scenario at church of time and space, everyone jotting down on a small piece of paper their gratitude, praise or a lament, I resisted at first.  Then, I quickly wrote from my heart:

Tell me what you want me to do.  Speak.

Hearing God speak is one of my greatest places of doubt as a believer.  Oh, God does speak to me and when he does I am always totally blown away by its clarity.  But still I live mostly in the in between riddled with unfaithful doubt.

As a voracious reader, the world of blogging has opened up to me an instantaneous flood of information and I’ve gorged on it of late.  As is my nature, I tend to go to the extremes.  I have found hundreds of insightful people and blogs.  I wish I could read them all daily but my world around me would fall to pieces in disarray if I did.

Early this morning I read a summary of a presentation by the Rev. Dr. Christopher Beeley, professor at Yale Divinity School.  It put into words this cycling of despair, response, growth in a way I have not been able to understand or summarize myself. Don’t you love it when that happens?  Beeley presented:

“a three-step process of faith formation offered by John Newton and developed from a reflection of Newton’s on the parable of the sower. The first step is “Desire.” A person might feel “elation” and “joy” or “relief.” The sense of desire propels one into church with a sudden surge of awareness of God’s grace and love. This first phase is like the Hebrews freed from Egypt, it brings with it a sense of elation. While the sense of desire and God’s love persist they also change with time leading to the second phase.”

“The second phase is “Conflict.” This is the “dark night of the soul” phase where one wrestles with God, with faith,and often faces challenges that were not experienced in the first phase of Desire. If Desire is marked by elation like that of the Hebrew freed from slavery, this phase is marked by a sense of being lost, the Hebrews wandering in the desert for 40 years. This is a time of growing more dependent on God and deepening our trust as we travel through one challenge after another.”

“The second phase leads to the third phase. Newton is careful to spell out that one is not necessarily a better believer or person in one phase or the other, rather one’s sense of dependence on God increases through each phase. To me this phase sounds a bit like what the Buddhists call “Detachment.” This phase is marked by a shift in emotions where one becomes less emotionally engaged in the challenges and more able to view them with some distance, having put one’s trust in God.”

“…These phases, A, B, and C were not linear but perhaps a spiral that repeats over and over through life.” (emphasis mine).  Grace in the Blade by John Newton, three phases beginning on page 171.

As I sit fully within the Conflict stage, naming it helped me immensely.  I can say that my spiritual path has wound around and around in that spiral my entire life.  It wasn’t until I read these thoughts of Newton that I understood what was happening.

Much of my spiritual journey has involved doubt, restlessness and pain.  As I listen to those believer’s whose ‘faith’ seems to be pure saccharine goodness, I’ve felt constantly in revolt!  That has not been my experience!

My spiritual experiences have been marked by questions and confusion as I wrestle with the strange truth of this radical person Jesus and the rest of scripture and reconcile them with real life; Christians whose lives are tinged with hypocrisy, the weakness of my own dark heart, and a life riddled with iniquity.

As I learn to cry out as I did yesterday, I am certain that He will respond.  Advent for me will be a time of listening, and so I wait.  I wait for him to speak and tell me what to do.  I wait for Him to speak.

What am I grateful for? Updated daily (almost). How about from time to time?

Science has proven that people who express their gratitude daily are 25% happier and significantly healthier than those who don’t—and doing it takes as little as a minute a day!

Here’s what I wrote about Gratitude a year ago.

11-23-09 — Monday — I’m thankful that most of the accidents of life are not serious. My son had a straw in his mouth, was running … (I know, I know.  How in the world did I let that happen? Well, guess what?  Kids do stuff when you aren’t looking!)  It was jammed into the back of his throat, apparently not by his sister whacking him with her book, to the right of his uvula across the soft palate.  I am grateful nothing terribly damaging happened though he can’t eat.  It hurts to swallow or yawn and he cried non-stop last night as we tried noodles, Keefer, and other soft foods, finally discovering the only thing that didn’t hurt was milk.  But he hasn’t done any lasting damage.

11-24-09 — Tuesday — Today I spent a 1/2 hour getting PT on my cheek for “clenching” my jaw which has given me TMJ.  And although I am obviously really grateful for this care, I am incredibly grateful to have health insurance. Because this is one of those things that I would not have sought treatment for if I had no insurance.  Or get my eyes checked soon.  Because I’ve been waking up with headaches about three times a week for unknown reasons.

11-25-09 — Wednesday — It’s 5:30 am and I wake early in order to get a minute with my coffee and thoughts before I rouse the children.  I am grateful for these few minutes.  I want to be a more intentional person, directed by purpose rather than the winds of the kids.  Their moods right now are gale winds (especially the tweener) that knock me sideways more often than not.  I am grateful today for new days, second and third and on and on, the chances to make this day a good one. Whatever may have happened yesterday can be set to rest and this day can begin fresh.

11-26-09 — Thursday — Ironically I wrote nothing on Thanksgiving about what I was thankful for, but I enjoyed and was grateful for a full tummy and family to share it with.

11-27-09 — Friday — Something’s going on and I can’t put my finger on it.  But I am feeling funky — Not thankful at all.

11-28-09 — Saturday — I am thankful for my dear friend Jeanette, who in the midst of a health struggle with the pain of living with MS and health insurance stupidity, and everything else, continues to express her creativity and verve for life through her art. She is an inspiration.

11-29-09 — Sunday — I am thankful for the anguish of the soul because it brings me closer to understanding.

11-30-09 — Monday — So grateful that I my questions and crying out to God are okay.  Grateful for my spiritual journey which is often more full of doubt and questions than understanding.  But when it comes, the clarity and Truth are so good.

12-1-09 — Tuesday —  Good people in my life that love me enough to be honest with me — so often I need that kind of love.

UPDATE on TMJ: Turns out the mouthpiece I got isn’t really helping though I’m going to give it more time. The doctor asked: Are you under stress? Me: well, I guess it’s relative. I quit smoking this year. And drinking I say almost as an afterthought. “My God” the doctor says. I can’t do either. Am I under stress? What a question. Anyway, prognosis. He said: I need Yoga, or Mindfulness work, or Meditation, or hypnosis, or some kind of therapy: …

12-2-09 — Wednesday —  Somehow I lost this day.  Does that ever happen to you?

12-3-09 — Thursday —  So thankful!  Parenting is one of my greatest challenges, as I have  no compass.  I doubt (almost) every move I make!  I am reading a great little book on this, (though the title is a little too enthusiastic.) The TurnAround Mom: How an Abuse and Addiction Survivor Stopped the Toxic Cycle for Her Family–and How You Can, Too!

12-4-09 — Friday —  Thankful for Health Insurance. A great pediatrician that I love as a person and trust as a doctor. And weekends, though I have to say that it isn’t much different than the week for at at-home parent, except they have eight more hours to make the house dirty!!!!! Yes, I am bitter and all of a sudden don’t seem thankful.

I am thankful that my annual Mole/Skin violation (check-up) produced no more skin cancer! I guess last year’s discovery was an anomaly.

12-5-09 — Saturday — Two things I am most grateful for today:

1) That I am sober. And although I do not know what this life will hold — sober — I’m taking it one day at a time.

2)  That my anger is strong but I don’t take it out on my family.  I don’t quite know how to work through it but I don’t hurt my family.

12-15-09 — Wednesday — Our incredible abundance.  May we have generous hearts.

12-19-09 — Saturday — A warm home.  More food than I can eat.  Love.

Am I welcome at a Juneteenth celebration?

Human progress is neither automatic nor inevitable… Every step toward the goal of justice requires sacrifice, suffering, and struggle; the tireless exertions and passionate concern of dedicated individuals. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Even as I write that title, “AM I WELCOME…” I’m thinking this is not about you, Melody! And it is most decidedly not, except in the fact that we white people are a part of the problem.  We’re afraid to talk about race, racism, ethnicity, and even good things like Juneteenth. If we don’t talk about it, we won’t take part and if we don’t take part thus perpetuates the ignorance and fear.

So here I go, knowing ultimately it’s not about me, but I don’t want to be afraid of acknowledging and raising awareness for white people.  I want to say, hey people this is a good thing!

I believe it is worth noting that Wisconsin Gov. Jim Doyle has signed a bill that makes Juneteenth Day a legal holiday in Wisconsin.  (It’s too bad the NPR headlines are leading with the end of puppy mills in Wisconsin, not this. But I always see the ‘cup half empty.’)

I have to be honest, I’ve been afraid or uncertain if I was welcome at Juneteenth celebrations.  OK, to be brutally honest, I have been unwilling to put myself in a context of (potential) discomfort.  Yeah, that is what I know is true deep down.

Ten years ago, when we were church shopping,  we attended Fountain of Life, a black Pentecostal church committed to multi-ethnicity, about two or three times.  (I even know the pastor, Alex Gee, but he wasn’t there while we were.)  But in the end it was too hard to be different.  I know, ew.  That was hard to admit.,  It sounds awful.  I have to imagine being in that scenario all the time, every day, is terribly difficult. (Mostly white churches, organizations, schools.)  I can only imagine what it is like to be a minority all the time — I was exhausted after a service there. I mean I like to move, and raise my hands (I do that frequently in worship) , but I was so self-conscious of my stiff-white-person-moves!   So, not for only those reasons but including them I walked away.  I guess because I could.

Perhaps I jumped into the deep end, with church, and Juneteenth will be a chance to dip my toe in.

If you don’t know on June 19, 1865, Union soldiers sailed into Galveston, Texas and announced the end of the Civil War.  The order given to free the quarter-million slaves residing in the state.

“It’s likely that none of them had any idea that they had actually been freed more than two years before. It was truly a day of mass emancipation. It has become known as Juneteenth.”  Read more history here.

Celebrate the end of slavery as a holiday?  Regrettably, most white Americans will read that headline and think, uh, what’s the big deal?

The recognition also is a chance to foster dialogue in the community, said J. Vincent Lowery, assistant professor in humanistic studies and history at the University of Wisconsin-Green Bay. Lowery’s work focuses on memory and race relations.

“I think that it really represents an opportunity for the state of Wisconsin … to have open conversations about the history of race relations in America,” Lowery said, “not just as they relate to emancipation, but the much larger freedom struggle.”

I look forward to it!  Can I attend the Juneteenth celebration and not feel like a fifth wheel?  Did I just say that?   Our state is recognizing that we should all celebrate the end of a disgraceful part of our history.

Today Juneteenth commemorates African American freedom and emphasizes education and achievement. It is a day, a week, and in some areas a month marked with celebrations, guest speakers, picnics and family gatherings. It is a time for reflection and rejoicing. It is a time for assessment, self-improvement and for planning the future. Its growing popularity signifies a level of maturity and dignity in America long over due. In cities across the country, people of all races, nationalities and religions are joining hands to truthfully acknowledge a period in our history that shaped and continues to influence our society today. Sensitized to the conditions and experiences of others, only then can we make significant and lasting improvements in our society.

As Dr. Lowry said it is important to remember.  I think it’s also good to feel the discomfort of being a minority, to stick your toe in the water!  And grab a hand of someone you don’t know  and to begin to talk.

Or perhaps it would be best to listen***…

Have you attended a Juneteenth celebration and if so what was your experience, as a white person or person of color?

***If I’ve done or said something in this post that is offensive culturally or otherwise would tell me (melhhanson@yahoo.com)?  While I want to talk about race and feel the risk is worth it, I would never choose to offend.  Never.  I want to learn.