Advent Conspiracy

The thought of not spending so much money at Christmas is both terrifying and freeing!  I have long felt that Christmas has lost its meaning and, as a parent, I want my children to “get” what Christmas is really about.  Take Easter, for example, with the bunnies, the baskets, and the candy. I have never participated, with adamant resolve; that’s just not what Easter is about.  And so my kids “suffer” because of my decision – or at least that’s what it feels like as a parent.  Still, it seems that Easter is easier to “opt out of” than Christmas.

Over the last few years, we have sometimes asked extended family to give gifts to worthy organizations rather than directly to us.  I felt really strange asking – kind of self-righteous – although that was not my intent.  But it felt like a good direction, a small step, a reminder to us all that our ‘gift giving’ is often in excess and begins to lack meaning.

When it comes to the stereotypical traditions of an American Christmas, I am afraid this Conspiracy idea will be complex and difficult to process.  In my heart of hearts, I am excited.  But in reality, it is hard to imagine.  I look forward to learning more about the Conspiracy and how we can teach our children (and ourselves) more about these values and ideas.  I think my children, if they really understood how Jesus would celebrate Christmas, would actually come along more quickly than I.

I’ve been reading and studying the book of Daniel through a Beth Moore study, and was hit hard by the truth there in the first chapter about Babylonia which represents a culture that idolizes youth, beauty, intelligence and complete over-indulgence and over-abundance.  Sound familiar? The Enemy wants to keep us in the place of captivity, surrounded by all the temptations of the world, but as we succumb we will lose our identity and integrity.  “Daniel purposed with his heart” against those temptations. (Dan 1:8)

I must ask myself how much of the culture is getting to me?  We are supposed to make a mark for the Kingdom of God.  And yet, most of what I buy, eat, and watch encourages the corruption of our culture in my life, tempting me to believe that it’s actually all about me. Isaiah 47:8 says “I am, and there is none besides me.”  To me, this challenges our culture of total self-absorption.

To bring it back around to the Advent season and the idea the Conspiracy is challenging us with, let us all pray that God would soften our hearts and harden our resolve to live differently.  May we each be open to the ideas here and be willing to be challenged in big ways – not so that we alienate ourselves from the world around us (which is what I fear), but so that we would be open to the Holy Spirit and be able to live differently IN the world as opposed to withdraw into our strange theologies that separate and divide.

I look forward with anticipation to what God is going to do in my husband and me and in our precious children as we face our addiction to stuff and prayerfully become deliberate about our Advent choices.  I am so grateful to attend a church that is being prophetic about these issues.

This is something I wrote for my church’s blog.

Albert Einstein and Naming My Blog

I like Albert Einstein.  Of course he was brilliant and quirky, with that crazy hair! But did you know he was a person of faith? I love that he thought for himself (well duh, with relativity and all.)  But he had a real contempt for authority.  Question everything he said. I love that!!

But I especially liked learning that he was slow to develop verbally.  Our youngest was as well. And Einstein thought that his verbal challenges allowed him “… to observe with wonder the everyday phenomena that others took for granted.”

Jacob’s language challenge has been something I have known about and worked to get help for, since he was eighteen months old (I will write about that some day).  I am inspired and filled with hope for my son, learned to speak slowly and who by everyone’s estimation is “delayed” academically.  It all stems from some things doctors have recently identified.  Perhaps Jacob will also learn to see the world differently as he makes his way in it.

“There is no limit to life, when your imagination and mind are vivid and developing.”

This gives me hope.

As a child Einstein “was so fervent about his beliefs that on his own he composed  hymns, which he sang to himself as he walked home from school.”  Lovely!  We like to compose music in our household!  (My kids have a band Squirrel Ticks.  Have you heard them?  I should post a few songs here.)

At age 12, just as he would have readied for his Bar Mitzvah, Einstein suddenly gave up Judaism which he had practiced on his own up to then as his parents rejected the Jewish traditions. As he later put it,

“The religious inclination lies in the dim consciousness that dwells in humans that all nature, including the humans in it, is in no way an accidental game, but a work of lawfulness, that there is a fundamental cause of all existence.”

Einstein did retain from his childhood religious experiences a profound faith in, and reverence for the harmony and beauty of the mind of God expressed in the creation of the universe. In his 50s, Einstein rethought his faith, as he did many times over his lifetime, based on what he called the “spirit manifest in the laws of the universe” and a sincere belief in a “God who reveals Himself in the harmony of all that exists.”

Do you believe in God he was asked?

“I’m not an atheist. I don’t think I can call myself a pantheist. The problem involved is too vast for our limited minds. We are in the position of a little child entering a huge library filled with books in many languages. The child knows someone must have written those books. It does not know how. It does not understand the languages in which they are written. The child dimly suspects a mysterious order in the arrangement of the books but doesn’t know what it is. That, it seems to me, is the attitude of even the most intelligent human being toward God. We see the universe marvelously arranged and obeying certain laws but only dimly understand these laws.”

“The most beautiful emotion we can experience is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of all true art and science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead, a snuffed-out candle. To sense that behind anything that can be experienced there is something that our minds cannot grasp, whose beauty and sublimity reaches us only indirectly: this is religiousness. In this sense, and in this sense only, I am a devoutly religious man.”

Do you accept the historical existence of Jesus?

“Unquestionably! No one can read the Gospels without feeling the actual presence of Jesus. His personality pulsates in every word.  No myth is filled with such life.”

I’m intrigued with how he thought, how he “worked” at his faith, how he was impressed by the lavishness of the Creator and of the person of Jesus Christ.

And I love this: “… the most beautiful emotion we can experience is the mysterious…” I am in so much agreement!  And it is Einstein’s words that were the inspiration for the name of this blog and that echo my own heart as to the mystery of faith, belief or disbelief, science and much of life.

If you’re interested in subscribing to this blog, thank you!  I can’t say how often I will write.  And my musings are quite random and tend to depend greatly on the family schedule.  Thank you for reading and please, leave a comment or opinion!!!  I’d love to hear from you.

Quotations from a TIME.com article on Albert Einstein.  Read the complete article here.

Phantom Love

You can’t just say you love me. Love isn’t words.
Love is time — spent over the span of a life.
Words are a phantom love.

I can’t mend your hurting heart.
I don’t even know why I should try.
Empty, adrift. You are searching for something.
Crying out, and I hear you.
But I cannot help.

You can’t just say I’m sorry.

Love is known through a lifetime of being, searching, knowing.
Love is acceptance. Endurance. Forgiveness.
Each of these is evident — if you love.

What is it that I am to you?
Do you feel you cannot provide for me the things I crave?
I am fully aware and accepting, that I am the woman you both shaped over time.
Strong. Capable. Faithful.
Afraid. Careful. Wounded.

You don’t have to heal me, that task is all mine.
All you have to do is BE,
with me,
in my life.

You can’t just say you love me – show me, you don’t regret, that I am.

Show me.
Just be.
With me.

 

 

(May 21, 2008)

Reaching

Daddy, I reach up with my whole heart and gaze at you,
eyes widened, eager; wishing for your arm hanging there happenstance.
I am filled with hope and I itch
for you to hold my hand.
I linger, waiting, with another glance up at you.
Will you look down, will you grab my hand
a sudden tenderness?

Or will life pull you on toward the rush that ‘doing’ brings?

I planted a Cherry tree in memory of my father. He died five years ago May 19th. This is the first year I’ve gotten a few blooms, because I don’t prune it correctly.  I was always emotionally “reaching” for something from my dad, that infrequently came, whether it was holding my hand or just unscheduled time.
June 4, 2008

Dreaming in Color

Dreaming in Color

Am I comfortably settled or am I stuck?  When was the last time I dreamt in full color?  Of things long forgotten  —  Of pulse pounding, scary, risky things?   Am I fully awake?   I used to love the smells, sights, and sounds of Different. Am I sure that this life right in front of me is the one I was meant to live?  I am blown by forces stronger than myself.  I am carried on the wind into a future I cannot not smell, or see or hear.

I woke up and my dreams today is are so good. I am frantic to see it, to record it and to somehow divine the world Out There.

It may become too unsettling, upsetting, and disjointed for a family to endure.  It may be selfish.  It may ignore the good places in my life  that I have forged with utilitarian sacrifice; sweat and tears given willingly yet with a price.  My past, my here – and – now is settled, sometimes stuck, but known and understood.  Am I fully alive, if I can not manage to live my Dreams alongside the steady pulse of Love that fills my life every day? Surrounding me. It protects me.  And covers me, and I lose myself.

I can breathe, so I must be alive, but I feel stifled by the collision of my Dreams and every day realities.  I am alive, but I grow cautious and ever more afraid like dreaming is dangerous.  Am I more afraid — to fly — or to fail? Am – I- settled- or- am- I- stuck?  Am I fully alive?

I breathe therefore I Am. But what then?

August 25, 2008

This is a poem about being female, and 41 and a mother. Having left my career for years of motherhood, I was still dreaming of things that I could only imagine. I fear my dreams and yet hope for, wish for and want to have it all.

Suicide: A Last Goodbye

Suicide, for most inconceivable.
A gruesome choice.
A last resort.
It’s not a cry for help.
By then, it is too late.

This is dedicated to my friend and colleague, Dave Foster who took his life last Tuesday, at 4:00 am. I worked with him for several years at InterVarsity. I loved & admired him. He was an innovative, interesting, delightful person. He was a real professional. Imperfect, as we all are. Rough around the edges. He loved his family so much and I always sensed a desire to protect and provide.

I can not imagine the grief that his widow and three children are feeling. It seemed to happen completely out of the blue and everyone is seeking answers.

What was the cause of this unimaginable act? We will likely never have the answers to this sad mystery.

Good bye Dave. At last you have found peace for your restless soul.

John McCain’s Temper

I just don’t quite know what to say.  I think John McCain is going Cuckoo.  Don’t get me wrong, I was a John McCain fan, back when he was truly independent, truly a maverick.  I have to admit I was crazy for the guy.  He really had me.  I was so seriously in love with John McCain, I even have a MCCAIN t-shirt and considering the options at the time I confess that I would have voted for him (though I almost can’t admit it now).  But I feel he has ‘sold his soul to the devil’ in order to become the Republican candidate for president.  He is not the man he once was.  I’m not quite sure what has happened.  It can’t be as simple as a lust for power, but it is really distressing.  I’m not writing a treatise here on John McCain, just passing this YouTube video on.  He has done some really productive things for our country as a US Senator.  But growing up with a father who had rage issues, I must admit this video scares the hell out of me.

I know what rage looks like, feels like, sounds like, smells like.  It isn’t pretty.

I hope you’ll watch this video, it will take you less than five minutes, on John Mccain’s temper.

The Sky is Falling!! (part 1)

This is the best summary I have seen on the state of the current financial crisis, which I read online in Scientific Monthly.  Succinct with ways to fix things.

But before reading that article, consider this poem by Kipling. I loved it when I first read it.

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream — and not make dreams your master;
If you can think — and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build’em up with worn-out tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings — nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And which is more; you’ll be a Man, my son!
Rudyard Kipling
1865-1936, written in 1895

I’m 42 Today and Considering My Life

At 42, I am ...

Originally uploaded by M e l o d y

I am 42 today and considering my life.   I was born in the highlands of Papua New Guinea on this day in 1966. I am the 2nd daughter of missionary parents. I spent the first eight years of my life there in PNG. It was a wonderful beginning. The middle was kind of rough, but it is improving every day!  Perhaps it is kind of silly to ask “Who am I?” at my age, but today this is what I did.

— Melody

I AM

  • I am a step-mother and a mother, hopelessly lost some days because I wasn’t parented that well. I have no Compass.
  • I soak up ideas and solutions from others, mostly my friends, my sisters, because I am afraid I will “mess up” my children. (Yes, the way I was messed up.)
  • I am fearful and insecure; in my core believing that I am a screw-up, a loser, a horrible friend, and an even worse mother. The voices in my head say I am the worst in-law, daughter, sister or friend anyone could want (except I don’t nag or bother, rather the other end of the spectrum. I simply act like others aren’t there.)
  • I am an alcoholic and a child of an alcoholic and this affects every single thought and decision that I make.
  • I am a writer, a thinker, a philosopher.
  • I make things like photographs, and gardens, and poems, and that makes me happy.  I love to share these things with others.
  • I am spiritual, preferring old thoughts and music to anything contemporary or new.  I am not religious, or even very faithful. But I do believe in Jesus. And I try very hard! Perhaps that is my problem …. I try. I don’t understand Grace, not really.  So on those days when my unbelief overwhelms, I entertain thoughts that can be desperate and decidedly unfaithful.
  • I do not let go …. I want and I need to be in control at all times, about everything, in every way. When I am not, I feel I have failed.  Losing control personally, emotionally, mentally is one of my worst crimes.  Don’t get me wrong, I know I am not all bad.
  • I am thoughtful. I am usually open and honest with others, when asked.
  • I take risks and try new things.
  • I love competition! Sports (watching), playing certain games, setting personal goals. But I’m afraid I get too into it, and at times it’s not so pretty.
  • A long time ago, when I worked full-time, I was a visionary, a pioneer, a competent person, a leader. I was loyal and capable. I accomplished a lot.  Surely, I am still those things.
  • I embrace and actually love cultures other than my own, soaking up the ideas, art, food, and music through books, travel and most of all friendship with those who are unlike me.
  • I usually help others as I see their needs.
  • I cook well, even better than well. I am a great cook.  My family & friends are well fed.
  • I organize & prioritize my children’s lives well, putting their needs first,  advocating and challenging others about my children’s needs.
  • I encourage others.  (At least when I am not selfishly thinking about myself.)
  • I want some day to know myself well enough that I can speak out, act, embrace, find and give all that live has to offer!  I want some day to be able to laugh, and cry, and feel the spectrum of emotions found on that damn feeling wheel!

What might you not know about me?

I’m addicted to coffee. Seriously it’s a physical and psychological thing and if I don’t have it, I might just come unhinged.  Of course being an alcoholic, I don’t drink.  But I do smoke and I know it’s a slow form of suicide. I don’t do it lightly (almost every cigarette comes with lucid acknowledgment of the consequence.) but I definitely cannot quit at this time.  I love to exercise and eat well, but I don’t (usually.)  I play music every day; all kinds and it is life-giving.  I am diagnosed with major depressive disorder, which means in layman’s terms:  I have a propensity for melancholia and if I don’t manage it, it will come back. At its worst this type of depression is like drowning in your worst nightmare, a stinking, dark hellish place to reside. Where truth becomes lies, and lies truth. You are incapable of doing, feeling, thinking, reading, sometimes even breathing.  Thankfully I’ve been depression-free for almost two years.  [I may regret saying this, but you have an open invitation to ask me if I am exercising & eating,because these are the first disciplines to go. Also, if you haven’t seen me in a while, it can be a bad sign because I begin to isolate.]

Depression, alcoholism, insecurity, damage, they are not my complete story, my story is just starting.

I believe God brought into my life the perfect person for me; he loves me by asking hard questions, telling me the truth about myself which usually means “good stuff” but sometimes even hard truths. He encourages my passions and interests, supports them as well, which is no small thing in this financial climate.  He is a warrior on my behalf and I love him more than I have shown him or will ever be capable of showing.

People have described me as aloof and private, which I am but mostly because I am shy and those demons of insecurity are playing out in my head more often than I would like to admit.

I am creative, intuitive, capable, kind, thoughtful, deep, at times extremely selfish & critical of others, but mostly about my ideas and my time.

My critical spirit, my insecurities, can and do hurt those I love and it is one of my deepest regrets; an Achilles heal.

I am passionate and always reading & thinking about things that are important to me, but I often fail at finishing and carrying them out. Books lay around unread, photographs unprinted, my book of poetry sits unfinished, and commitments become a burden, as I selfishly move on to something new.

I need community, long for it, work to develop it, but most times I fall short through my own weaknesses and broken heart.  You can be confident that I want to know you, be in your life, especially if I have told you, but my stupid S**T keeps me entangled at times.

All in all, I would say I am a good person.

As I learn what it means to be a child of an alcoholic I can acknowledge that I am still growing up, even at 42; still learning and discovering who I am and how I want to live.  I am slowing waking up – from a life-draining, sad, lonely, scared and cold childhood.  All in all, I am blessed beyond belief – with great love, friendship, abundance, talents and so much more.  I acknowledge that, even while I ache with the painful knowledge that I cannot fully embrace my life – yet – due to all of the above.  The most important thing people may not know about me is that HOPE is the central thing of importance in my life.  If I have even a tiny inkling of hope – a belief, a dream or something to hope for, I can put all of this aside. (Okay, not totally of course.)

Although this list isn’t complete, (how could a perfectionist “complete” a list) it is all true, as I know myself, today on my forty-second birthday, 2008.  Thanks for being a friend, getting involved in my messy life. Keep hanging in there, because I believe it’s on an upward curve and I am hopeful about the future.  It is simply a record of my thoughts, and perhaps will give you a glimpse at the ME I let very few in to see. You do not, should not, feel an obligation to reply.

September 24, 2008

Melody Hanson

I needed [Too Late]

my parents did as well as they could

my parents did as well as they could

I NEEDED

I needed a father who would love me for who I am, not who I might be or who I might become.
I needed to be able to speak my mind, express myself, have opinions, and not feel I was your captive, imprisoned by you being right every time.
I needed a father who would not yell at me, at my sisters, at my mom.  All I can remember is constant bellowing, uproar, fear and pain.
I needed you and what you gave was distance, scowls, the expansive cloud of disappointment hung about us all the time.
Will I ever know why you were so angry?

I needed a mother who didn’t push people away; who wasn’t always afraid of him, of me, of living her life.
I had a mother who was dangerously sad. We all knew it. Because of it, I was always afraid, always tired, and scared of life.  If she couldn’t manage, how could I?  She’s still afraid, but at least, I know why.

I needed parents who knew how to laugh at themselves. I am slowly unlearning that legacy.  I need to be able to poke fun at myself.
It is so simple. So satisfyingly good to gaze at my imperfections and know it’s perfectly okay.

I needed a father who came home and wanted to be there; who gave hugs that didn’t feel off because they didn’t jive with constant anger, constant fear. Hot cold. Hot cold. The sting of our speculation.  If only you wouldn’t feel ‘rejected’  all the time.  If only you  understood that your deeds didn’t match your words.

I needed someone to watch me grow, with joy.
I needed you to remember me daily. If not every day, often enough to not let me get lost in books and fantasy, in forgetting, in weary striving for what’s unattainable, even impossible.
I needed you to help me on this journey of life.   I was falling down, over and over, stumbling, until I thought I couldn’t do anything right. Plunging into failure and living up to your disappointment with your life.

I needed a mother who would remember my birthday.
I needed a father who didn’t make me cry.
I needed.  I needed so much and when I allow myself to imagine how much I needed you, my heart feels full of gravel; my insides closing in. My heart is bursting with confusion, anguish; My heart is full of your unthinkable, backbreaking life.
It is something that I can’t put my full mind to, yet. Perhaps because I don’t want to discover that I needed so much from you and it is too late.  Too late for what I needed. Too late.

[Too
late
for
need.]

10/06/08 MHH