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Questions, cause I’ve been thinking

I have a lot of questions right now because I’ve been  thinking.  And when I start thinking I find I end up with more questions.

diversity @ church.

One of my favorite writers, Philip Yancey, recently scoured his hometown churches to see what he might find.   His comment about diversity in a church stood out to me.

As I read accounts of the New Testament church, no characteristic stands out more sharply than this one. Beginning with Pentecost, the Christian church dismantled the barriers of gender, race, and social class that had marked Jewish congregations. Paul, who as a rabbi had given thanks daily that he was not born a woman, slave, or Gentile, marveled over the radical change: “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

Huh, diversity is Biblical.  ‘Nuf said.

MLK day was it ignored or forgotten? does it matter which.

Can I just say I love my church.  I have never grown in my spiritual life the way I have at this church.  It is amazing.

That said, yesterday I realized a stunning thing.   I attend one of those “mainly white mega-churches that don’t mention commemorating Martin Luther King Day.”   That made me sad.  They likely bumped it because of praying for Haiti and there are many challenges managing program time.  Still, I think it is important for a church to communicate from the platform that remembering and celebrating with our friends of color is significant to us all and valuable.   It’s a national holiday?  How are people going to spend it? Just made me wonder.

I’ve been writing on multi-ethnicity.

A friend asked me to reflect on Ecclesiastes 4:1-3, after reading these thoughts I wrote about my experience of going to a white church and my question of whether I should consider attending a multi-ethnic or even Black church.

Again, I observed all the oppression that takes place under the sun. I saw the tears of the oppressed, with no one to comfort them. ‘The oppressors have great power, and their victims are helpless.  So I concluded that the dead are better off than the living.  But most fortunate of all are those who are not yet born. For they have not seen all the evil that is done under the sun.  (New Living Translation)

From my post:

To live our lives based on that simple truth means our lives are built on self-sacrifice.  Every time we respond in love to someone else, we are laying down our lives for them.  “This is my commandment,that we should believe in the name of his Son Jesus Christ and love one another.” Strange how Jesus did not say to us, “these are my commandments.”  He said is as if it were one commandment.

To believe and love is one idea.

Believing in Christ means that we love one another.  Looking at it that way, there is a lot that I can do as a person with my affluence & power &  a voice for the cause of reconciliation in my city.  Things that have nothing to do with where I worship on Sunday.

What my friend Jimmy was gently saying (I think) is that people are living with oppression in our nation my city, in my kid’s schools.  And no one white people don’t seem to genuinely offer care and comfort.

I will do further study on the word: COMFORT.  And that will sooth my intellect.  But can I DO something.  What can I do?

That takes me back to my Advent Lament and prayer. Oh God, Tell me what you want me to do.

And from someone I am coming to read often, a cautionary quote to white people.

I can only speak anecdotally on this, but there seems to be a growing movement of white people—including Christians—who feel so victimized by political correctness (and how it’s robbing them of their rights) that they’ve hardened their hearts to any suggestion that racial injustice is a factor in our society today. And they’ve become cold to how their privileged words and actions might affect others. That defensive mindset and callousness could be the biggest obstacles to true reconciliation in our churches and nation. Ed Gilbreath, emphasis mine.

I believe God speaks and it is not random.

I believe that God challenges and moves people from within by breaking our hearts over injustice around us.  He is not random about this.  He leads us toward things.  And away from things.  Problematically I have been told  and I can affirm that I have the gift of mercy.   I pop open my laptop and the needs and issues all over the world, and in my community, flood toward me and it all hurts.   If I open myself up to it it’s crushing.  It makes me sad, and mad, and sometimes depressed.  Hopeless and sometimes despondent.  And I slam my laptop shut, but that’s just an excuse for doing nothing.

I challenge  myself to pray every day asking God to tell me how to respond to the OPPRESSED in my life and community.  Who are they?  How can I comfort?  Help me to know what it means to comfort the oppressed?

This means that I cannot be free until all men are free. And if in some distant future I am no longer oppressed because of blackness, then I must take upon myself whatever form of human oppression exists in the society, affirming my identity with the victims. The identity must be made with the victims not because of sympathy, but because my own humanity is involved in my brother’s degradation.  The Christian Century (15 September 1971)

what should I do with myself?

I continue to pray that I would know what God wants me to do with my time, work, contribution, opinions (*smirk*), and talents.

I’m still mulling on a conversation I had with one of my girlfriends (Someone I would trust with my life.)  We discussed what I am doing now.  I found myself saying this,

“I need a job.  I’m feeling like a kept woman.”

Why she asked? Laughing at me, if can you believe it.

“I need to make a contribution. I feel guilty that I don’t have a ‘job.’ The feminist in me is screaming that I should be carrying my weight… I was never going to be a stay-at-home mom..  And look at me, my kids are in elementary school.”

After leaving full-time work in 2001, I had no idea as it was happening that was beginning a long journey of “recovery” from being totally addicted to work — the rush, the sense of purpose, the affirmation (Oh, how I miss the affirmation!)  I came out of that detox a better person.  A stronger person.  Much better understanding that I am not what I do.  And I’m glad (mostly) that I have been able to be at home with my children for the last eight or is it nine years.  I feel okay about it, some days even good.  I can see every day why I am home when it comes to my kids.  Jacob’s need for an advocate for his learning disabilities is just one example.  On one level, I think I started Imagine Photography to dispel that feeling of being ‘a kept woman.’  Bring in a little income myself, but still have the at-home life.  But I haven’t taken off with that even though with my marketing background I know how to promote myself.  Something has held me back.

But I digress.

What Carol did was confront those ideas head on (yes, the voices in my head) that say I should be ‘making money.’  It freed me to consider any job or volunteer situation because  I was thinking about it only in terms of money not in terms of values and interests and calling and heart’s desires.

I just feel freed.  It was inconceivable to me at first that someone who manages to work and be a mom (my friend who I really respect and need) would not look down on me for not working.  She actually said, you do work.  Every day.  Well, we don’t need to have a debate about what I do all day and whether it’s work.  Her blessing (not that she represents all women) and her opinion is one of the more important to me.

But now,  I can pray and wait.  Listen.  Try things.  Explore.  I can give of myself without thinking about “earnings.”

Haiti

When it comes to Haiti I have more questions than answers.  This poem is a part of that conundrum.  Also, a post.

This week’s message @ church

I wanted to respond to the message this Sunday at my church.  But I don’t have the time or energy today.  But something new I am going to add to this blog, is a personal reflection on the talk.  I think it will force me to take it to the next level of integration into my life.

Be well.

my God is not random (a poem)

My God is not random.  He loves me.  He loves you.

He created Adam and Eve.

He put them in a perfect place.  He had

communion with them. He gave them

e v e r y t h i n g.

My God is not random. He longs for that with you and me.

I am Eve, you are Adam but we live in a broken place.

We are wreckage.  We are turmoil and pain.

But he never stops loving us red, yellow, black and white.  All named Precious!  Precious brown and beige and ivory.  Precious bronze, chestnut and chocolate. Precious cinnamon and cocoa, ecru and ginger.  Tan and tawny.  Even terra-cotta.  Precious chestnut, alabaster, and milky white. Precious ebony and obsidian. Precious slate.  Cream and sand. He made us and calls each one Precious.

My God is not random.  My God loves all.

Big & tall.  Short and fat.  Skinny or petite.  Hideous.  Beautiful.  Proud.  Angry.   Perfectionists and slackers.  Healers.  Takers.  Know-it-alls and those that don’t.  Intellectuals.  Mystics.  Liberals.  Moderates. Conservatives.  indifferent. All. Those that clean and serve.  Those that won’t.  Prosperous or poor.  Passionate or indifferent. Foolish or wise.  Filthy or Clean.  Hungry or full.  Broken and hurting.  Devastated and afraid. Crushed.  Alone. Dieing.  Texting ten and those that don’t.  Those that go and those that stay.  Loved and precious.  ALL.

I am Adam.  You are Eve.

Don’t ya get it? Don’t you see?

We messed up this place.

Think you’re important?  He seriously does not care, unless you choose to help.

It is no matter to him who you are or what you have done .  That you have Hated.  Ignored.  Hurt.  Judged.

He loves you, Me, Adam, Eve.

All of us, He loves and calls us precious.

Then he let us choose.

We walked away. We ignored.

My God isn’t random. He says:

Come Eve.  Come Adam.  Come into the garden.  Dwell.  Be with me.

See the world  Do something. Feel the pain of others and respond.

I am the world.  I am hungry.  I am thirsty.  Feed me.  I am a stranger.  Invite me to your meals. I am cold and in need of clothes.  Cover me. I am sick, imprisoned won’t you look after me?

I gave you everything. What will you choose?

If you say “That can not be you Lord!  When are you ever hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison?”

Look! If we turn toward him, he will

break our heart. He will give us

Eyes. Ears. Hands. Feet.

He is not random. He let’s us choose.

He loves the hungry.  He loves the thirsty.  He loves the naked, the sick, the incarcerated.   He loves me and you.  No mater what we do.  No matter what we’ve done.

He wants your tomorrows.  He wants communion with you.  He named you Precious.

Won’t you listen, come.

Written in response to the crisis in Haiti.  To those who cry out in a moment like this and say “if there is a god he is terrible.  How could he?”  In my perhaps inelegant way I am trying to say he loves each of us and if we were to respond to him the world would be such a better place.  The poverty and tragedy in Haiti has been there for hundreds of years.  The world ignored, but for a few.  And still, he loves.

this poem is far from done.   a torrent of thoughts.  still unruly and a mess.

When the world is falling apart before your eyes …

Sometimes, when the world is falling apart before your eyes and you are powerless all you can do is pray.  If there is any stillness in your day, cry out to your God.

May God bless you

with anger at injustice,

oppression, and

exploitation of people,

so that you may work

for justice, freedom

and peace.

A Franciscan Benediction

My heart is heavy today. I have learned in these moments to listen well.  Cry out to God for hope and purpose in the midst of such tragedy.

May you listen and be well,

Melody

A Prayer of Resolve

God.  Help me. My life is about discovering how I am lost and helpless without you.  I am a sinner.  Always — daily — though forgiven.  Give me what I need to do only what you want. Give me the grace I need to unabashedly adore you; to bring you everything I own, everything I believe, everything I do.  Happiness I wouldn’t say no to and money makes life easier but life and love is all I really need.  Won’t you help me please?

Help me to care about how I live day-to-day.  Help me to show your goodness to others.  Help me to spend my time wisely and give me tomorrow to live and breathe.

Help me not to enjoy others’ mistakes, but cry to for them.  I am no better and I can never forget that. I have problems, life seems unbearable at times. But I will never forget the wretchedness you saved me from.  My addictions.  My need.  My pride.  My shame.

Day and night, give me places to go and people to help. Give me purpose, love and generosity. Give me love, more love.  Help me not to hate. Don’t let me think poorly of others or get angry all the time. And mostly help me to choose my words carefully.

I resolve to be a peacemaker, who brings people together. Help me know others’ pain and to walk the path of pain with them.

Help me to know your will by studying faithfully — daily — and to devote time to being with you in the garden.  May my prayers take me back to the garden.  Teach me to listen.  Teach me to hear.

What you give us, our hope, help me to live as if that is my reason for being, every day that you give me, until I take my last breath.

(Inspired by the first two dozen of  the Resolutions of Jonathan Edwards 1722-1223)




Devastation & Hope

Fear friends and lurkers,

As the world knows by now a major earthquake struck southern Haiti on Tuesday, inflicting a catastrophe on the Caribbean nation.  Up to 4,000 dead.  It is difficult to know how to respond to a tragedy like this.  It doesn’t take a lot to ignore it.  I hadn’t checked the news yesterday, so I didn’t hear about it until my husband told me this morning.

Since ignoring it is a terrible option then what?  I tend to feel anguish and sorrow.  But if I start reading all the stories about the suffering it is too much.  Believe it or not it was Facebook that brought it down to earth for me.  I have a FB contact whose father lives in Haiti.  Another whose niece is there on a service trip for two weeks.  Another a brother. All of a sudden something that was intellectually tragic hits me in the stomach.

What if that was my father, or niece, or friend?

I can pray, but I need to do more.  So a small gift or larger if I can spare it toward a worthwhile organization seems the compassionate response.

I hope you will consider the same.

Be well,

Melody

P.S.  I do not make it a practice to “fund raise” here on my blog.  In fact I never have.  And I won’t very often. Thanks.

This organization, ONE DAY’S WAGES, is a grassroots movement of people motivated by their compassion and desire for justice.

Their goal — to fight Extreme Global Poverty. ODW is the emissary, in a sense, but gives away 100% of what it raises.

All of the money goes to the purpose of sustainable relief and they partner with smaller organizations in developing regions.  Their vision is to inspire people around the world to simply donate one day’s wages and to renew that pledge annually.

Here is the story of the couple that started One Day’s Wages. You can also find out how to give if you decide that is something you want to do.  There is a nifty calculator to help you figure out one day of your wages.

“They started a Facebook group, Fight Global Poverty, and pledged to donate $1 for each member who joined, up to a total of $100,000. The group now has more than 1 million members, and Mr. Cho and his wife will contribute about $68,000 this year — representing a year’s wages — and the rest next year. One Day’s Wages received tax-exempt status in May and started its Web site last month at www.onedayswages.org. “It’s easy to be drawn to the multimillion-dollar donations, but we’re doing ourselves a disservice by not elevating the stories of the working mothers and fathers who also contribute what are significant amounts to them,” Mr. Cho said.”  [New York Times]

The people of Haiti are clearly in need.   There are many worthy agencies that could use our help.  I urge you to consider helping in some way and this one I recommend.  But don’t take my word for it.

[21 day detox] Day 6.

Paavo Airola, one of the pioneers of fasting in America, states in his book How to Get Well” that “systematic under eating and periodic fasting are the two most important health and longevity factors.”

I am on day six of a twenty-one day fast. The theory is that our bodies are full of toxins from poor eating and drinking habits, our unhealthy environment, medications and general bad living.  So, to have our body working at maximum efficiency one needs to flush it of all those toxins.  My fast is based on the book 21 Pounds in 21 Days. The Martha’s Vineyard Diet Detox by Roni DeLUZ founder of the Martha’s Vineyard Holistic Retreat.

Down 6.5 pounds since a week ago Monday.  I officially began in the fast Wednesday night, but I began to get my mind into it the Monday before.  I was 170 at the highest and I was 146.5 lbs/39 bmi.

I went to Willy Street Co-op, became and member and bought grapefruits, oranges, apples, pineapple juice all to JUICE and cover the flavor of GREEN.  That’s been the most difficult aspect of juicing green things is they taste like crap!  Well, to be more literal they taste green.  Like grass.  Wicked bad.  So I am smothering them with fresh squeezed juice.  But the benefits of broccoli, kale, collard greens, lettuces, fennel, celery, etc are so high that I have to juice them daily.

For the background on the fast, click on the 21 Day Detox at your right, under TAGS.

Be well!

Am I called to be comfortable or to be changed? (as a white Christian)

When I read an article in TIME Magazine Can Megachurches Bridge the Racial Divide? about the diversity journey of Willow Creek Church, I was left feeling surprised and unsettled.  Surprised by the influence that one person can have, a pastor in this case (Bill Hybels) who changed the face of that church – quite literally.  Willow Creek has gone from being  a lily white church to having diversity rates around 20% in about fifteen years.  It is a good story that’s worth reading.  (And quite unlike a lot of what you find in TIME; at least I find TIME Magazine is sanctimonious and moralizing about neoconservative ideas.)

Taking it a step further, Edward Gilbreath interviewed the Time religion writer David Van Biema who wrote the original piece about Willow Creek Church.  That interview was even more compelling, and as usual for me, unsettling. (If you have any interest in these topics this website, www.UrbanFaith.com, authored by Mr. Gilbreath, is thoughtful, challenging and informative.)  But the interview stirred up in me all the same feelings I have had for years, of dissatisfaction, doubt, and a strange wish for more diversity in my world.

I attend a 5,000+ church here in Madison, WI.  I have no idea of the diversity stats, though we have a lot of international students and college students.  I always see black faces in the crowd, but they stick out.  We seem to have tons of Asians.  Diversity is not talked about that I can tell as important in the Kingdom of God and the staff is Caucasian (the platform speakers are always male and always Caucasian, with very few exceptions.)

This was a strong theme of the Gilbreath interview  — the lack of people of color on staff and in crucial teaching roles, etc.

At times I become discouraged about all this, because after working on a convention like Urbana I have seen, experienced and participated in worship and leadership that is diverse.  Beautifully diverse, challenging, incredible, multi-lingual, multi-cultural, worship at Urbana is a transformational experience.  Heavenly.

My church is very white.

There is an ethnically diverse church here in town.  It is Pentecostal with a black pastor that I know and respect, Alex Gee.  I grew up Lutheran, United Methodist, Evangelical Free, and Presbyterian.  I am open.  Though I find the pentecostal experience is genuine and exciting, it also challenges this awkward extremely white person!  Let’s just say I want to like it.  I want a groove.  I want rhythm.  I want the holy spirit of the Pentecostal experience.  But it isn’t happening yet.

One thing I learned from my friends who are not white is that people with power (white like me) need to be willing to ‘risk‘ and ‘get uncomfortable’ and be the minority presence sometimes. Willing to give up their power.  In my heart-of-hearts I feel compelled to do this.  And at other times the ‘worship with your own kind’ argument resonates with the part of me that just wants church to be comfortable.  Is that sin?  Should I reject those thoughts and desires for what is known and familiar?

Jesus seemed to constantly be in situations with people very different from him.  Is that what he calls us to?  The author of First John says that to love is to lay down your life.

“We know love because Jesus laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for one another.”

What he did, the greatest act of love, seems like an impossible thing to do for another person.  But just perhaps in a regular persons’ day-to-day life, our acts should be ordinary acts of love.  To live our lives based on that simple truth means our lives are built on self-sacrifice.  Every time we respond in love to someone else, we are laying down our lives for them.

“This is my commandment,that we should believe in the name of his Son Jesus Christ and love one another.”

Strange how he did not say “these are my commandments.”  He said one commandment.  To believe and love is one idea.  Believing in Christ means that we love one another.  Looking at it that way, there is a lot that I can do as a person with my affluence & power &  a voice for the cause of reconciliation in my city.  Things that have nothing to do with where I worship on Sunday.

  • I could take a job in a community development organization, forgoing salary to do a job that made a difference.
  • I could send my daughter (and sons) to Wright Middle School, a school named after one of Madison’s civil rights pioneers, which offers a multi-cultural curriculum.
  • I could volunteer my talents to Madison Times the only minority-owned newspaper here in Madison.

And I am considering all of these things.

I’d like to hear what you think. Do white or black churches need to change? Do people, white people for the most part with the power and resources  need to be humbling themselves to be a minority somewhere in their lives?  What can we do to help change this story in our white churches?  What are the questions I am not thinking of?  What’s left unsaid?  Ultimately how do we love our community as Jesus would have?  Are we willing to change?

UPDATE: I wrote  this in response to Kathy Khang’s post on the subject on Sojourner’s God’s Politics blog.

It’s always disconcerting to read believers ranting at one another. So much emotion. So often so ugly. The danger of the medium I suppose.  I appreciate the intensity of Kathy’s post and the questions she is posing. Things were written that need to be said. Often. In a variety of places. I blogged about the TIME article as well, Kathy, not knowing you had written too. My perspective as a white woman of course being entirely different. I read the White/Asian thing and wondered about it, but it didn’t hurt to read it. That pain is why this is all so important.

The question “are liberals ever happy” though posed in jest, is to me (ironically) the important question here. And my answer is a resounding no, of course not. Not in the way you think.

  • No, as long as our children are growing up to fear one another, and hesitate, and wonder about each others culture. To consider certain cultures suspect, simply because they are different.
  • No, as long as a white child believes somehow they are more deserving than a Black or Korean or Japanese kid born next door.
  • No, as long as white people believe they are the givers and POC are the takers, the needy.
  • No, as long as there is poverty, and hunger, and homelessness in our country.
  • No, as long as kids are not being educated well because they weren’t born into the right neighborhood or family.
  • And no, we’re not going to be happy as long as women and people of color are kept out of opportunities to minister alongside white men.
  • NO, liberals are not going to be happy as long as there is institutionalized discrimination and racism and sexism.

I could go on. But will say a final no. Inborn in a “liberal” as you call us, is a broken heart.  A heart that actually feels pain when they hear someone else talk about their pain.

“Learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.”- Isaiah 1:17

[21 day detox] Days 3 & 4 were pure misery

When I think of the role that food has played in my life it is inordinately flawed and dysfunctional.  The only way I can think that I wasn’t over weight growing up, is that my mom was into healthy eating and we never had junk food.  She baked our bread.  I never ate a Twinkie or Ding Dong until college.  Seriously.

When I got to college I got a really bad habit of eating for taste and comfort.  I was never over weight in college, but I survived on mostly GRANDMA’s cookies and coffee.  Oh, and donuts.  I didn’t realize I had a problem with poor eating, until I fainted dead away at my job in the library.  Turns out I was anemic and malnourished.  Yes, I guess nineteen year old well off Caucasian girls from the burbs become malnourished.  Of course this was the 80’s and there was little known about eating disorders.

My twenties were more of the same.  Eating poorly, feeling poorly, but never really gaining weight due to a good metabolism I suppose.  I have never been an active person, just a busy person.  I have been known to eat chocolate chip cookie dough (from the fridge) for a week for dinner.  Or melted cheese.  Or Ramen noodles.

Although my mom is a gourmet cook and a health nut, I didn’t learn anything growing up about cooking.  Four girls overwhelmed her I imagine and she was always shooing us out of the kitchen.

I learned from her relationship to food though.  My mom had been a yo-yo dieter all my life, at least since we came back from Papua New Guinea and that’s the earliest that I can remember.  Certain things were forbidden and then eaten at other times when fallen off the diet.  For my mom two were Fritos and popcorn.  I hated all three for as long as I can remember.  For the longest time they even made me physically ill if I even smelled them.  I see now was very wrapped up in my mother’s ups and downs.  She hated her body.  I hated my body.

And I had never in my life dieted or been on a diet when I got married.  I hadn’t needed to, because I managed to stay around 130 lbs, give or take five for my twenties and early thirties.

Getting pregnant was the beginning of the end of the “innocently healthy years.”  I was hungry all the time while pregnant and I thought if I was hungry the baby must also be hungry.  Absurd, of course, but I ate my way through and gained 70 pounds.  Actually I stopped looking at the scale after 70.  Horrifying.  And really my OBGYN should be taken out back and shot, for she never said a word to me about my weight.  Nada. (Yes, it feels better to blame her or at least act like it wasn’t my responsibility at all.)

Not taking responsibility could be how you label those years.  Within five months of Emma’s birth I was pregnant again with Dylan.  I gained less with that pregnancy, but then I was carrying some carried over from the previous pregnancy.  With nursing and working full-time, I lost a good part of the Emma weight.   After Dylan was born, then I had more time to get back to my original weight and I was within 20 lbs when I got pregnant with Jacob a year or so later.

I said earlier that I never dieted before I got married.  I hadn’t.  That’s not to say that I have always been happy with my weight, but I would just start working out at the Y if I got to feeling too badly about myself.  And that worked for the most part.

I have actually only been on one real diet in that time.  In 2002 Tom and I went on the South Beach diet.  I lost 17 lbs, and at that point people thought I looked too skinny but actually that put me around 140-145 and that’s a really perfect weight for my age and being 5′ 6″.  I hadn’t felt that great in years!  All those baby years were gone!  I felt like a woman again, as opposed to being a mommy with boobies.

Since 2002, I have been at home and my lifestyle has slowed down year by year and I’ve felt a slow creep.  Of course there was the battle with depression which is a story told elsewhere.  But the weight just crept up, a little more every year.  When I finally decided to do this fast I weighed in at 169 lbs – okay 170 – last Monday.  That is the highest that I have ever been in my life.  It was do or die time.

This beautiful broken tea-cup is really a metaphor for me.  I mean ME, my body, my health, my physical person.  I broke it yesterday, because I wasn’t paying attention to my detox plan and let myself get too hungry.  I was experiencing low blood sugar and ignoring it and put the dishes away. Before I fed myself.  Ignoring my need I broke something that was important to me. 

The cup is from Ukraine – one of a kind, irreplaceable, beautiful, sturdy – priceless.  It was a gift from my mom.  I was at her place the day before and I admired it because I will always have a place in my heart for the Ukraine and Russia.  She said “Take it.  You can have it.”   She is like that these days, physical things becoming much less important to her.  Perhaps it is her age.  Anyway, I gratefully took it feeling a bit selfish. But thrilled!

And used it for a day.  Until I dropped it.

That’s what I do. I ignore my body.  I ignore my hunger.  I ignore the fact that this body, given to me freely and is mine to care for.  I need to take more care.

It’s a lifelong pattern for me to forget about eating. Then eat all the wrong things.  Carbohydrates mostly.

And yesterday I forget that I need to follow the plan.  I need to make sure I eat enough calories.

I am one-of-a-kind, beautiful, and sturdy (ha ha) and I only have this one life.  This one body.  One chance to make things right.

And that is why I have to follow the plan as if my life depended on it.

Back story on the 21 day detox is here.

What Can’t our Daughters Do?

I’m re-posting something I wrote a year ago.  It was my most popular article ever written with more than a thousand viewers.  So I thought it was worth posting again.  

———————–

Quickly — I want to thank all my visitors from the homepage of wordpress.com. Welcome!  Wow!  A lotta love happens when you get featured on the homepage.  Until yesterday, this was a little ol’ blog visited by some of my friends and a few Facebook contacts. I was essentially writing to myself and my lurkers (I do have quite a few of those.)

It would kill me to have you think I’m some ranting feminist and that’s what this blog is about.  Because that is not true, about the blog, I mean. I am a feminist.  And I can rant (at times.)  Okay quite often.  But I rant — ahem write about many topics.  I post my poetry, and talk about all sorts of things from politics, faith & (dis)belief, family & parenting, depression & mental health.  It’s varied.

I’m a Haus Frau, free-lance photographer and generally vexed person who writes.  If it were not for my faith I’d be mean and ugly things would come out of my mouth.  But if you find anything golden here it is because of grace of God in my life.   Melody

I started writing these thoughts about two months ago.  But Nicholas Kristof’s article in today’s NY Times entitled, Religion and Women, got me thinking, again.   I am a regular reader of his Op-Eds.

Do you believe this little girl does has the right to the same opportunities as these boys?  (Even if she felt called to be a Pastor?)

Kristof mentions Jimmy Carter’s speech to the Parliament of the World’s Religions in Australia, which I read when it was first posted online.

(I think I’m “in love” with Jimmy Carter because he lives his life with principles.  And standing up for women is sexy!  But that’s irrelevant here.)  I don’t have complete or even very coherent thoughts on the topic yet, I just want to ask some questions:

  • Is feminism as simple as giving women equality in work, home, church life?
  • Do women deserve access to anything that men have access to?  Why do some men have such a problem with this?
  • Do you believe your daughter has a right to every opportunity that your son has?  Why would a loving God say she doesn’t?  What can’t our daughters do?

Personally, I think oppressing  a woman, from war lords raping women in the Congo, to Afghani men who throw acid on girls faces, to men who psychologically abuse women, or the British woman who was arrested for being raped in Dubai, all of this should make us sick to our stomachs and even more culturally accepted things like putting women down, objectifying women.  And yes even keeping them from leadership opportunities they are obviously qualified, all of these things give men the chance to believe that women are inferior human beings.  And when you do that, bad things happen in our homes, institutions and relationships.

Sexism is any mistreatment of women, ranging from violence against women, to treating women as inferior, to objectifying a women. Any time women are treated in any way other than a respected human being with every opportunity in the world!

“Women are prevented from playing a full and equal role in many faiths, creating an environment in which violations against women are justified,” former President Jimmy Carter noted.  “The belief that women are inferior human beings in the eyes of God gives excuses to the brutal husband who beats his wife, the soldier who rapes a woman, the employer who has a lower pay scale for women employees, or parents who decide to abort a female embryo.”

Jimmy Carter sees religion as one of the basic “causes of the violation of women’s rights.”

As a member of The Elders, a small council of retired leaders brought together by Nelson Mandela, he is speaking out.  The Elders are focusing on the role of religion in oppressing women, and they have issued a joint statement calling on religious leaders to “change all discriminatory practices within their own religions and traditions.”

Why do I have a problem with women not being elders at my church? Because in its simplest form it is saying:

  • That women are not trusted by God with the complete story, or
  • that women somehow don’t have what it takes to lead the church, or
  • that women don’t have full access to God, or
  • that women  don’t have the wisdom and life experience,
  • We do not have whatever it takes.

Oh, believe you me I know (some) churches will allow you to do anything else! Serve, give, teach, be missionaries.  Just not be the spiritual guide.  It just doesn’t feel right.  In my gut.

Eugene Cho, is a pastor and leader and all around amazing, wise and prophetic person who has written and thought about this subject saying:

“Shouldn’t we work together to build a culture (even amongst our own churches) of respect and dignity? How do we do that beyond the debates of the ordination of women?  How do we do that in our lives, families and churches (or must it be connected to the issue of ordination?)  What’s clear to me is that it’s really difficult to pursue these things when we don’t hear directly from women. Or allow ourselves to listen to women… aka – that we take a posture of humility and submit, believing that God can actually speak through women as well. Why?”

I’ll tell you why.  Because they do not fundamentally believe they should be listening to women.  You can’t convince me otherwise.

Surprisingly, in a progressive place like Madison we settle for less on this subject.  It is rare in Madison that are women subjected to overt forms of sexism.  Most of the men I know are loving and open-hearted.  And so, in the church especially, women let a lot go.  We ignore the whole Elder and women being ordained issue, just glad we’re all getting along.  And in fact my church is ahead of many other Evangelical churches in the area.

What I don’t like is that we aren’t willing to talk about these things.  We need to talk about these things.  The fact that we don’t talk about it is painful to me. I believe if we want grow, to heal, and to have everyone truly empowered and working out of their gifts and abilities, it is crucial that we be willing to talk.

It takes an immense amount of energy to challenge someone on their sexism. It is much easier to sit here and write about it.  Even a situation that is simple and straightforward, which I wrote about a few weeks ago, sent me into a tailspin for about 12 hours.  I knew it was sexist.  I couldn’t believe how bad I felt and wondered how my sister, an ordained minister in her own church felt being spoken to in such a demeaning manner.  I suppose in some ways I forgot, being out of the workplace and not heavily involved at church, that this is still common, and widespread.

It would seem that sexism would be easy to recognize.  As with any type of discrimination, sexism can be both personal and institutional, obvious and much more subtle.  Do you think you could spot sexism when it occurs?  These are all in the category.

  • Definitely commenting on a woman’s looks when you should or could be talking ideas with her can be a form of sexism.
  • The use of pejorative names like ” ‘girls’ at the home office” and other patronizing terms can be a form of sexism.
  • A teacher or pastor or youth worker offering more attention to one gender can be a form of sexism.
  • Only hiring people of a certain gender for a specific type of job can be a form of sexism.  (Every support role in a church or ministry being filled by one gender, female.)
  • Expecting only people of a certain sex/gender to be interested in specific activities can be a form of sexism.
  • Identifying activities, roles and chores as male or female can be a form of sexism.
  • Steering students towards specific subjects based on their gender can be a form of sexism.

Mutual respect, openness and conversation are what we need.

I have rung the bell too many times within my church on the role of women. I try to be respectful and teachable. But I am tired of being told “Talk to so and so, who is a woman who leads…” so that she can tell me why she’s accepted the fact and is okay that she will never be an elder in the church.  Pass.

I’ve decided it’s the denomination that speaks.  Women are not pastors or ordained in our denomination.  I cannot change the Evangelical Free Church of America denomination (Or can I? my son would say.  But I know I cannot.) so I have to decide if I can live with it.

And it comes down to whether I can counteract the message, subtle as it is from the platform, that says to my 12-year-old daughter sitting in the pew — you will never do that job.  You will never be a pastor.  You don’t need to study scripture as seriously as the boys, because you aren’t accepted at their seminary.  Women do not preach.  You will not see women preach in our church.

I just think that’s sad.  It makes me very sad.

I am longing for spring! but thankful for today

It is a good discipline to ask yourself what you are thankful for, because the gloom of winter, the sameness of it all, can get to a person here in the cold of the Midwest winters.

Today I am thankful for:

truthful people

Honest people who are willing to tell you the good and bad are priceless.  I have been blessed over the last week to have people tell me good things about me and it is incredible!  Stunning how good it feels to have a person you love or respect tell you something good about yourself.  My father was always good about saying things like that.  Really very articulate and affirming, but his anger & rage made it hard for me to receive it.  But to have someone who has never yelled at you tell you something good, it’s like a balm on a burned hand.

old movies

We’ve been watching old black and white 1940s movies.  there is something so beautiful about the smoke and music, and acting.  The purity of the characters. I’m not totally sure yet what it so compelling about them — I’ll get back to you on this.

science fiction and fantasy genre

Tom has introduced me to many incredible authors this year from our own book shelves: C.J. Cherryh, George R.R. Martin, Louis McMaster Bujold, Connie Willis, among others.  Incredible books that I have given me endless quality hours of enjoyment.

LEGOs

Enough said.  I just love making things and it also gives my children endless hours of fun.

the power to control my health (thus far in my life)

I am taking charge of it by doing this 21 day fast. What doesn’t kill you, makes you better?

flannel pajamas

I just love snuggling for hours in my pajamas, with my coffee and laptop. That is what I wear most when I am blogging.

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The sun is shining and that doesn’t happen enough here in the Wisconsin winters!

My friends & lurkers, I know you are there and it makes me happy!  I hope you are well today, able to focus on the good things in your life.

Melody

“If I had my life to live over, I would start barefoot earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall. I would go to more dances. I would ride more merry-go-rounds. I would pick more daisies.” — Nadine Stair

[21 day detox] A diary

“There is nothing that wastes the body like worry, and one who has any faith in God be ashamed to worry about anything whatsoever”

— Mahatma Gandhi

21 day detox fast

Read here for the background to why I am doing the fast.

Monday: 167.5

Tuesday: 170.00 (go figure)

Wednesday, Official Day -1

164.5
  • Drank coffee with cream, toast before my package arrived around two.  Then officially began the ‘program.”
  • Physically, suffered from an incredible and horrible headache, in my temples.  But emotionally, a m a z i n g!  (Oh, and it’s that time of the month.)
  • Purchased a Dry Brush and teas from Community Pharmacy downtown.
  • Cooked one of the veggie soups.  Weird, I have to say but not bad.  Broke down and used 1/2 tsp of salt.  I think of everything I am giving up for these 21 days, salt the most difficult.
  • Cooked chicken, salad and mac & cheese for dinner for the family.  Good to cook a healthy meal, strange that I can’t eat it.  Didn’t even taste it.  But Tom said the chicken was “the best.”

Thursday, January 7th,  Day 1

-- Haven't weighed today.
  • Drank coffee this morning.  Been thinking, on Tom’s advice that I shouldn’t try to quit cold-turkey.  But had no half-and-half.  (Missed the h&h. Sigh!)
  • Got a Lymphatic Massage. ($80 or a package of three for $195.)  Eek, this is starting to add up.
  • While that was going on I began to think about areas of my life where I feel powerless and full of fear.
  1. That I am going to mess up my kids, because I’m learning so much but hopefully not too late!
  2. A situation from childhood that changed the direction of one relationship for more than thirty years.  I’m going to do something about it.

The woman who gave me my massage was a bit “out there” but I resonated with the thought that when those worries come, don’t take them in.  Hand them over to your higher goddess or in my case the Holy Spirit.   Let go!  Intentionally think through, yes visualize letting go of that worry and fear.

Yowza!  I feel great.  And hungry which isn’t great.  I’m late on one of my drinks!

Drank Senna Tea (which is for constipation) and pureed bean soup from the book.  Not bad.  I have had enough for tonight too.

Friday, January 8th, Day 2

166  [go figure*]

*Tom says: “One who is on diet must weigh themselves at the same time and in the same circumstances (clothed or naked) etc, otherwise one can’t complain.” Thanks Confucius!

Woke up in the middle of the night, over and over with a stomach ache, air popping inside me (aren’t I discreet), pain when I would lay on my right side.  It was miserable.   Have the runs all day. The medicinal tea that I drank was Traditional Medicinals Organic Smooth Move SENNA.  I think this tea should have a warning on it!  Causes gas!

And the other thing I didn’t expect was peeing over and over, feels like when I was pregnant!  I guess that makes sense, when all I am “eating” is liquids.  And I’m still hungry though my mom says this will stop tomorrow.  Yesterday I was hungry!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I juiced twice today.  Beets, carrots, celery, apples, … it was yummy!  For mid-day I juiced something similar.  Yeah, I need to go to the store.  You quickly run out of veggies.

I am also drinking:

  • an 8 oz glass of water every two hours and a cup of tea,
  • intermittently: a Garden Greens VegeSplash Super Orac Concentrated Greens Drink Mix, Zesty Tomato flavor.  (It has 14 vegetables including Tomato, Kale and Spinach, 10 Green Foods including Spirulina, Barley Greens, Wheat Grass, Green Tea, Soy Fiber and Plant Based Enzymes.
  • and Garden Greens 24 hr Inner Cleanse Daytime/Nighttime Formula.

I ate my black bean soup pureed, from last night’s dinner. I also cheated and backed two sweet potatoes in the oven, peeled and mashed them and ate them like that.  No chewing so technically I guess it’s okay.  It was delicious.

Saturday, January 9, Day 3

Last night I felt very sick.  My stomach hurt terribly, though not in any one place really.  An overall fullness and lots of gas.  I just decided to go to bed and hope to wake to a better day.  This am my stomach seems to be relieved but I have a headache.  This may subside after half decaf/half regular coffee as I somehow slept until 9:30!  Very strange to sleep so long since I went to bed so early.  I woke to the smell of toasting raisin bread – and I wanted to die!  I love bread in any shape or form.  I will sip my coffee slowly and hope for the headache to subside.

Sunday, January 10, Day 4 and Monday, January 11, Day 5

Weighed in on Monday at 166, which for the life of me makes no sense.

  • I’ve juiced and have been drinking water and taking supplements.
  • walking (started walking a full mile and breaking a sweat.
  • 15 minutes on the Chi machine,  borrowed from mom.
  • Also she brought me a Rebounder (small trampoline) which she got for cheap at Aldi.  Two minutes on that thing wears me out!
  • Had the devil of a time finding an Enema bag.  Finally got one so that should be interesting.  My first Coffee Enema today.
  • The vapid hunger is lessening, just drink a Tomato Green Drink when I get hungry and drink water every 1/2 hour.
  • I have been constipated ever since I recovered from the diarrhea of Friday?

Emotionally I considered quitting Sunday because I haven’t lost any weight.  Tonya did the fast for 7 days and lost 9 pounds.  I told Tom I must have a tumor.  There is no way I can be eating like I am (rather drinking.  I haven’t chewed anything since last Wednesday.) and NOT LOSE WEIGHT??????  My mom convinced me to give it a week.  That would be until I weigh in on Wednesday.

Spiritually and Mentally I feel amazing!  Seriously positive, and energized and hopeful!  I

Tuesday, Jan 12, Day 6

Paavo Airola, one of the pioneers of fasting in America, states in his book How to Get Well” that “systematic under eating and periodic fasting are the two most important health and longevity factors.”

I am on day six of a twenty-one day fast. The theory is that our bodies are full of toxins from poor eating and drinking habits, our unhealthy environment, medications and general bad living.  So, to have our body working at maximum efficiency one needs to flush it of all those toxins.  My fast is based on the book 21 Pounds in 21 Days. The Martha’s Vineyard Diet Detox by Roni DeLUZ founder of the Martha’s Vineyard Holistic Retreat.

Down 6.5 pounds since a week ago Monday.  I officially began in the fast Wednesday night, but I began to get my mind into it the Monday before.  I was 170 at the highest and I was 146.5 lbs/39 bmi.

I went to Willy Street Co-op, became and member and bought grapefruits, oranges, apples, pineapple juice all to JUICE and cover the flavor of GREEN.  That’s been the most difficult aspect of juicing green things is they taste like crap!  Well, to be more literal they taste green.  Like grass.  Wicked bad.  So I am smothering them with fresh squeezed juice.  But the benefits of broccoli, kale, collard greens, lettuces, fennel, celery, etc are so high that I have to juice them daily.

Constipated.

Wednesday, January 13, Day 7

Didn’t walk, Did Chi, ran out of distilled water. Juiced fruit. I try to add green veggies and it’s just yuck!  Constipated.

Thursday, January 14, Day 8

I’m not drinking enough water.  Probably half that I should after looking at the daily schedule online.  I am drinking coffee and that is “not allowed” so I will not drink it tomorrow.  I was down to half decaf.  I missed walking on Tuesday so I walked 1.6 miles and burned calories.  I’ve been juicing more fruit than veggies.  I have not done the Kidney Cleanse because I do not have the Goldenrod Tincture (though I have looked three places) and finally ordered it online.   I absolutely can’t stand the green drinks and have revolted.  I only drink the tomato and have ordered more.  I made soup of root veggies last night and pureed it for dinner.  Several nights I have eaten two small sweet potatoes baked in oven and then pureed.  Wonder if these are bad?  I’m low on energy.  And today I feel bloody pissed!

Weight 164.5 lbs/41 BMI (-6.5)

I’m trying to figure out what I am doing wrong, what to tweak, because I feel like I am doing this for nothing.  I have another Colonic today, so perhaps that will get out some of this rage.  Because I am really angry!  Need to call Tonya.

Juiced two giant carrots, celery and one grapefruit.  It’s okay. Gagging it down.  11:00 am

12:00 Colonic.

Final report on Friday, january 15, day 9 & Saturday, Day 9 Weight 161 lbs (-9 lbs ) and the summation of this fast.

I feel like saying something nice.

I’m one day into this toxic fast, which I haven’t technically started.  I have splitting headache, but my spirit is open and today I feel happy.  That’s worth commenting on because honestly the last time I can say I felt happy was … I cannot remember.

Before I digress into that quagmire, I just want to write some nice stuff about my folks.  If you’ve followed along here on the blog for any amount of time you’ve just coughed your tea all over the computer or fallen off your chair.  But hey, miracles do happen (they actually do) not that I’m saying this is one.  But I just feel like trying to remember a few things. So, …

I love the way my dad had a gut busting laugh.  (What I wouldn’t give to hear it again.) When he was amused he just laughed from the belly.  There weren’t too many people who could make him do that.  My sister Holly and I could at times when we weren’t pissing him off. When Tom was on a roll, he sure did make dad laugh.  And then there were TV shows from time to time.

I loved that my dad was consistent about his spiritual disciplines.  Every morning for as long as I can remember, he got up early, made coffee and a fire, and read the Bible.  I mean the actual word of God, not books about it.  Every day.  No matter what. And he kept a prayer list and tracked answers.

Both my parents struggled with insecurity and so they worked hard to fight it.  They used make lists for the other person: What’s good about you.  Strengths.  It may sound hokey, but it really was kind of sweet and it seemed to help.  They would try to do it to me sometimes, and I resisted, but I have to admit it feels good to read a list of ‘affirmations’ if want to call it that which someone else thought of and told you.  Aren’t we all just a little hungry to know what others think of us? I feels damn good.

I love how my dad always said my mom was smarter than him.  It was true, but it was nice to hear him say it.

I love how my mom is a walking encyclopedia.  She does know a little about everything.  And a lot about the Bible, natural health, history, politics, gardening, human resources, …

I love how my mom did her recovery work and hasn’t looked back.  I’m not saying it’s easy for her.  But let me tell you as a fellow addict, it isn’t a small thing.

I absolutely love my mom’s green thumb.  I wish I had it.  I seem to mess up plants, but I go over to my mom’s house and her plants actually look happy.  It’s odd I know, but she has it.  If plants can be happy, they are at her house.

I love that my parents were never in debt (after early mistakes in the early 70s), paid cash for cars, and planned for retirement.  They were some of the most generous people I’ve ever known.  They’ve given away everything from an actual house to enough money that the IRS would audit them regularly.  I guess they couldn’t believe that people with a missionary income gave away so much.

I was just reflecting that I have relationships with people all over the world, many of whom I’ve been keeping up with most recently on Facebook.  Oh, FB is strange and I could write pages on whether it is real, but I have all those relationships because of my parents and the influence they had on me.

I am a multi-cultural friendly open generous person, because of my parents.

If by now you’re in shock, cause Melody just wrote almost ten things she likes about her parents and childhood, and something good about herself, take a deep breathe and smile.

Cause that’s what I’m doing.  Breathing and Smiling.  God is good.