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Category: My Two Cents
thoughts about life, blog posts,
I sat with a bunch of my good friends recently and we talked around a kitchen table in the welcoming home of a friend. We are women who meet weekly as a group to work through bible studies together, and this morning was our first day to meet in the new year. We took turns updating the group about how we are doing, and what we are working on as people.
We check in with each other frequently, so this was not new, but somehow today seemed different. The burdens we were carrying were heavy, and in my opinion they seemed heavier than usual.
We have empty-nesters who are trying to find their new life purposes and are concerned about their adult children making their way in the current world. There is a recent widow who is taking on new challenges on her own. We have moms who are concerned about their children’s anxiety in a world where anxiety is rampant. There are women who are sandwiched between the intense needs of teen children and aging parents. We have those experiencing struggles as roles in life change, and they seek to align their family’s different personality types and goals for the future. We have those who are struggling with unmet expectations in a season which seemed destined for success, and some who are doing the work to heal from past traumas. All of this “heavy stuff” among 10 women.
It struck me that if we were all verbalizing so many struggles within our small group, what must it be like for the rest of our community, nation and the world in general? We have all experienced trauma of various types in these several years since we were faced with a global pandemic, wars, and so many other trials. It may not be the type of trauma that leaves a visible scar, but in reality, most traumas never do.
I have no solution to the chaos that we find ourselves in currently. Well, that is not exactly true. I should say I have no quick solution. There is no quick fix for what ails us; I believe this was God’s design. He clearly did not want us living in a fallen world, but once Adam and Eve gave up Eden by disobeying God’s rules, the fallen world was inevitable. There is no quick fix, but there is an omni-present God who loves us and all we have to do is open our hearts and minds to Him and the relationship He wants to have with us. He doesn’t take away our struggles, but He walks beside us to help carry the burdensome weight.
I am reminded that there are people among us who appear as if they have it all under control, but many of them are struggling. They are our friends, neighbors, co-workers and the people we see out running errands. They are the people we love, and those who we find difficult to love.
According to the dictionary, the term “walking wounded” refers to people suffering from physical or psychological injuries or ailments who nevertheless carry out their daily lives as normal. As humans surviving these past few years of Covid-19 and its aftermath, I believe we all carry some physical or psychological injuries and are in some ways “walking wounded”.
We are all walking around with unseen hurts. We do our best to shove them beneath the surface and hide them under the many masks we wear, but that can only last for so long. The trauma will bubble to the surface and we will be forced to face the “injuries” we carry. When we do, we may choose to share them with trusted friends or family, but hopefully, we will remember to cry out to God. As Psalm 34:17-18 reads:
The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles. The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
Being able to sit and listen to my friends served as a blessed reminder to me to have more patience with others. It is easy to do so with my friends, but not so easy with the strangers who don’t think the same way I do, or who cut me off in traffic, or whatever the “sin of the day” might be. I am going to have to be intentional, but I am going to try to remember that everyone is suffering from some type of trauma from these past few years. Many of us are brokenhearted and crushed in spirit. If we all try a little harder with each other, we just might begin to heal some of those wounds and our world will see a change for the better. With God, all things are possible.
As another year winds down, I find myself contemplating plans and goals for 2022. I feel as if I have been in a fog for the past few years with the Covid pandemic looming constantly overhead. I have never felt quite so stalled as I have these past few years; I wonder if this is true for others as well. With so much of our daily lives changing and actually coming to a screeching halt in 2020, I have not allowed myself to create expectations for fear of extreme disappointment as outside forces threaten to eliminate all of the routines and patterns I have come to expect and thrive within.
I have had several goals to accomplish within my mind, such as organizing my home, weeding out clutter, and becoming more consistent with my writing, among other things. The problem is, I have not taken any tangible steps to create habits that will make these goals attainable.
If I am completely honest, I cannot blame all of this on Covid. I have two new circumstances in my life which are contributing to my lack of focus. First, I have been experiencing the brain fog which comes from the hormonal changes of menopause. While I had hoped to escape this, unfortunately, I have not been able to come out unscathed. I did try some hormone replacement therapy which helped for a while, but hormones continue to change, and sometimes we have to follow up and make changes in our treatment methods, which I will be doing very soon. Second, I became an empty nester in August, and I have so much time on my hands now. One would think this would increase productivity, but I have found it to have the opposite effect. I have not worked outside the home in a full-time position since my oldest daughter was born, and since then, my focus has been on raising my children and caring for my family and home. I used to be so organized and had many volunteer commitments when my daughters lived at home, but now that I have much more time on my hands and less required of me, I find myself to be less productive than ever. I am so frustrated by this, and it has to change!
My first steps for the new year will include purchasing a new planner (I tried a digital planner this past year, but I miss the physical paper planner) and filling in all of the commitments I am aware of currently. I have been spending some time researching how other women set their goals and how to plan daily tasks in order to create habits. Until recently, I have not spent time learning about goal setting, and I believe this has contributed to the condition described in the 1967 booklet, Tyranny of the Urgent, by Charles Hummel. He wrote about the tension between things that are urgent and things that are important. We often sacrifice important things in order to react to urgent things. But Hummel warned that “your greatest danger is letting the urgent things crowd out the important.” I know I have experienced this personally, and it contributes to the feeling that I am chasing my tail every day without ever accomplishing anything besides the required daily “urgent” requirements. I hope that setting some specific long-term goals will help me move past the feeling that I am constantly treading water.
As a woman of faith, I truly seek to understand God’s will for my life. I don’t want to miss an opportunity because I am stuck in a rut or bogged down by daily obligations which could be streamlined and ordered in a more efficient manner if only I attended to the planning of them. My resolution for the new year is also my prayer: may I not be afraid to hope for better days, and may I make it a habit to steward my time wisely.
Teach us to realize the brevity of life, so that we may grow in wisdom. Psalm 90:12
I made a new friend. This would seem to be an irrelevant event during normal times, but these days of living life in a pandemic hardly seem normal, at least not to the partial extravert residing inside of me.
I doubt anyone would guess where I made my new friend, Jackie. I met her in the grocery store parking lot. Yes, you read that correctly. I met a new friend after I went grocery shopping at my local store, like I have done for 15 years. The last 8 months, I have spent the time in the grocery store masked-up and hastily searching for the necessary items my family needs, all while trying not to get too close to anyone else. The days of standing in the local grocery store visiting with local friends whom I have randomly encountered seem like a distant memory to me. I find it very difficult to even make eye contact with another person while shopping, much less to strike up a conversation. Believe me, it is not for lack of trying on my part. I so long for human interaction, that I will try to speak to fellow shoppers, but I don’t see many who wish to reciprocate. I even say “excuse me” if I feel as if I am in someone’s way, hoping to hear a response, which usually doesn’t come. I find it sad, to be honest, and sometimes I wonder if this new anti-social dynamic is reversible.
How, you may be wondering, did I meet my new friend? I was sitting in my car, choosing a podcast to listen to on the way home, and I heard a tap on my window. It surprised and startled me a bit, but I saw an older lady at my window and I quickly rolled it down. She had seen the Baylor license plate holder on the back of my car, and wanted to ask if I had attended college at Baylor. I was happy to report that I had graduated from there many years ago, and she was happy to volunteer that her granddaughter had recently graduated from Baylor with a nursing degree. We chatted for several minutes. In that short time, I learned that my new friend had been married to a radiologist (just as I am) and he had died two years before with alzheimer’s and a cancer diagnosis that had only given him 2 weeks to remain on earth. She reflected that she was glad he had not suffered, and that he was a Christian when he died. She laughed that he had not been when he was younger, and we both agreed that we are all on a journey with different timings with regards to our faith and salvation. She had moved here to be near her daughter, who happens to be a University professor, and an atheist. She briefly touched on the struggle that she has with that latter-mentioned reality. We talked about church services and bible studies and she shared her favorite online pastor with me, and we exchanged phone numbers before parting ways.
I left feeling so encouraged, and frankly amazed at how quickly we spoke about very personal and significant topics. We texted each other and agreed to stay in touch. The next day, she texted me and wanted to meet at the parking lot again so she could share a book with me that she believed I would enjoy. I gratefully accepted her generosity and borrowed a few books from her. I look forward to meeting up with her again soon to return the books and plan to have a little something to share with her as a way to thank her.
My new friend is 80 years old, and I am in my 50’s. She was married to a radiologist and raised two children, just as I have done. We share a faith in Jesus Christ and a passion for learning about scripture. She used to be a brunette (as am I) until a few years ago, and has offered tips on how to transition to gray when I am ready. For years, one of my missions has been to encourage women who are younger than I am, as they are navigating motherhood. The bible verses in Titus 2:3-5 advises older women to teach younger women about living life in Godly ways. I have had the great honor to lead a bible study with younger moms, and I’ve been privileged to have a mother who is an excellent example of a Godly woman. Now, I believe God has placed Jackie in my life so that I have a local, older friend who wants to encourage me in my path. We can encourage each other in these very strange times.
I don’t know how Jackie had the courage to knock on a stranger’s window in the parking lot that day; I am just so glad she did. In a time when we are so isolated and homebound, it is such a sweet reminder that there are still people out there who want to be in community with others. We are not meant to live in isolation. So the next time you consider stepping out in courage to make a new friend, I hope you will take the chance. Knock on the window…you just might make a beautiful new friend.
It’s September of 2020, and we are in the “who knows what” phase of a pandemic. My daughter is in her last year of college, and It’s so much harder than we ever thought it would be. Her campus is supposedly a hybrid of virtual and in-person instruction, but all of her 13 semester hours are virtual. Prior to the semester beginning, at least a few classes were going to be offered in-person, and we watched as slowly but surely, emails arrived from all of her professors notifying her of the change.
Before the semester began, my thoughts went immediately to the freshmen students who would be facing so many restrictions with regards to socializing. How would they ever get to know people with all of the campus being so guarded, and mask mandates? I never once thought about how challenging it would be emotionally on the upperclassmen. My daughter attends a large state University in which the majority of the students live off campus. She lives in a townhouse with a roommate within a few minutes of campus. She is a member of a sorority, but she is unable to go to the sorority house for meals, which she has enjoyed the last 2 years. Only members who live in the house are allowed to dine there. If she were to choose to drop by the house to study, or visit, she would have to comply with the campus mask policy, and wear a mask the entire time. I am not suggesting that masks should not be worn, but many of us can agree that socializing for any length of time is just not easy with masks. She says she just doesn’t want to expend the energy of driving to campus and parking and walking to the sorority house, just to sit around in a mask with other people.
She often spends her days in her bedroom on her computer listening to lectures and completing her assignments. I have encouraged her to get out of her apartment to take a walk, or exercise at the gym, which she has done, and that has helped. Her small group of friends who also live off campus, are making efforts to study together outdoors, and have meals together. Unfortunately, a few weeks ago, her campus had a spike in Covid cases, and some of her friends had to quarantine due to possible exposure, and she was forced back into a version of solitary confinement again as she waited for her friends (who tested negative) to end their quarantine.
My daughter was diagnosed with OCD at the age of 7. Depression goes hand in hand with anxiety, and as her mother, I am aware of the risk that she can fall into a depression quickly. I have the luxury of living near her, and we exercise at the same gym, and she comes home for meals some. This has allowed me to check on her and see her face, and I can tell when the depression is hitting her, just by looking at her. When she is tired all the time, and doesn’t take time on her appearance, I know that she is struggling. I see those signs now, and it concerns me. She regularly sees a therapist and has a psychiatrist to help manage her health, but living with anxiety and depression is a daily struggle for her, and as her mother it is also my struggle. I worry for the young adults who may be far from home in this pandemic, and who may not have the friends or family to look after them, or the resources for therapy and medical care. These are new struggles that none of us have ever dealt with before, and it is an emotional burden to deal with.
To all of the public health officials and University administrators, I sympathize with your very challenging roles as decision makers in a time when all of the choices seem to be “rock” or “Hard Place”. You have a responsibility to encourage healthy behaviors and protect the public from life threatening illness. However, you must balance that with the other risks that come from social isolation. Humans are meant to be in community with each other, and when that cannot happen, this creates other life threatening risks, such as major depression.
I write this because I know I am not the only mom who is struggling with these concerns in 2020. I do not claim to know the answers and I am not suggesting we be reckless with behaviors. I am suggesting that there is a bigger picture to Covid than physical ailments, and it is time for them to be included in the public health discussion.
I was raised in the church all of my life, and although I attended a Christian University, and took two semesters of bible classes, I have never read the bible in its entirety. I began reading through the bible chronologically a few years ago. I am not on any official plan, and I do not read it every day, but I am trying to read through all of it at my own pace. I have found that reading it chronologically has made it easier for me to understand the stories within the context of history, and it has helped all of the stories that I have learned about over the years make more sense.
Recently, I found myself in Jeremiah 29. One of the bible verses that I have heard much of my life is from Jeremiah 29:11. It reads “For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.”
As I stated before, this verse is not new to me, but this morning I read it within the context of the entire paragraph and this taught me something I have never known before. God’s people were living in exile when He made this promise to them. They were living in Babylon, which is known to have been a place where pagan gods were worshiped, and sexual immorality was the norm. It was the center of idolatry, and God’s own people were exiled there as a result of their choices to turn against God’s laws. Scripture tells us in Jeremiah 29:10 that God planned for the Israelites to stay in Babylon for 70 years. Basically, an entire generation would live their lives in a foreign land, living with different values than those around them. God’s plan all along was to give them a future and a hope and to prosper them, but it surely must have been hard to believe as they were living out their time as exiles in a foreign land. As the world navigates through a pandemic, I think we all have woken up to living life in a world that looks very different than it did a few months ago. All of the new social practices and health fears can have us all feeling like we are exiles living in a foreign land. The daily news briefings and changing information can leave us frightened and feeling insecure about our present and our future.
I always envisioned Jeremiah 29:11 as a “rainbows and unicorns”, sugary sweet, upbeat kind of bible verse. It’s the kind of verse you find on hand-lettered wall art, or throw pillows. Turns out, that is not how it was delivered to God’s people “back in the day”. Instead, it was delivered during a time of transition and difficulty, as a reminder that, although things looked desperate at the time, better times were ahead, eventually. In our current situation of life in a global pandemic, where EVERYTHING we know has been turned upside down, and things look desperate and difficult, as a Christian I trust that God’s promises never change. Yes, we must endure our present circumstances, but not without the knowledge that God plans to prosper us and give us a future and a hope, eventually. I suppose the only thing better than living with such hope would be to pass it on to others around us who cannot see the promise of hope in their present circumstances.
To put this into context with our current events, we know there are carriers of COVID-19 who are asymptomatic; they have been exposed but it’s undetectable to others that they carry the virus. It makes me wonder, as followers of Jesus we know we are exposed to His message of hope and light, but is it detectable to others? Are we carriers of hope walking around without the symptoms? Have we allowed the fear of the changing world around us to diminish the hope we receive from an unchanging God?
I have personally struggled with fear and negativity at times during this pandemic, especially in the early days. I was fearful for my own family and sad for so many who were experiencing loss of life and livelihood. I knew I had to find a way to change my focus away from fear, because once you have taken all the proper precautions to protect yourself from whatever it is you deem fearful, fear itself does nothing to help anyone. I noticed that when I became intentional to begin my day with prayer and spend a few minutes reading scripture, it helped me keep my eye on God’s promises. It’s a light in the darkness; some might say scripture serves as an antidote to hopelessness.
There are many around us who are struggling to come up for air in a vortex of fear and anxiety. I believe we have a calling to share our hope with others around us. You can safely bet there are people in your circle who are struggling right now. Some are Christian believers, and some are not; some read God’s words and some never will, but in either case, they are feeling overwhelmed by their circumstances and may need an extra prayer, or a kind text or handwritten note reassuring them that they are not alone. We all know how a simple act of kindness to a friend or a stranger can brighten up someone’s day. It too can serve as an antidote to hopelessness. For many, the world feels like an extra dark place right now, and the only solution for darkness is a little more Light. As the days unfold and we face new uncertainties and new life patterns, I hope we will all cast our light wherever we are able. I want to be a carrier of hope and I want to have ALL the symptoms.
Most suburban Americans have become quite accustomed to the ease of daily life. When we get hungry, we go to our well-stocked pantries and refrigerators, or we order some take-out and have a food delivery service bring it directly to our door. When we get bored, we turn to our streaming service of choice for on demand access to entertainment of any variety. When we get lonely, we can text our friends or we go to social media for human interactions of all types. We are used to instant gratification of almost all of our needs.
This type of lifestyle makes it very difficult for us, as a culture, to emotionally adapt to something that we have very little control of, such as the Covid-19 virus which, according to all media reports, is crippling our entire world. As a free society, we are not pleased when we hear we must stay inside and stop doing all the things we are used to doing. It naturally causes anxiety, which we all react to in multiple ways. Some of us act like nothing is wrong and choose not to acknowledge the gravity of the situation (this would be me), while others seek to control the only things we are capable of controlling, like the quantity of toilet paper and Clorox wipes we have in our stockpile. Whichever camp you land in, try to remember that we are all handling the shock of this new landscape in the only ways we are prepared to do so.
My college-aged daughter called me yesterday with a lilt of anxious laughter in her voice as she told me that her college is cancelling all “in-person” instruction effective immediately. She told me of how her friends who are due to graduate in May, are reeling over the fact that they are currently sitting in their last college classes. While this may have been a fact worth celebrating in May, which is the natural progression of a school term, it can come as a big disappointment when it happens in mid-March without much warning. My daughter is feeling sadness because this situation will most likely cause social isolation, which is difficult for her personality to deal with. She enjoys the act of attending classes, and the social events she participates in weekly. All of this is coming to an abrupt halt, and it is understandable that it will be unsettling and it is OK to mourn the loss of normalcy.
Along the same lines, my high school-aged daughter is awaiting her classes to become “online only”, and fears this will inhibit her education for the last quarter of her Junior year, and fears that she won’t be able to attend prom. For a jaded adult like myself, it is easy to minimize the feelings she has over a trivial thing like prom, but in my heart I know it is valid for her to feel what she feels about it. She bought the dress, and she wants to take photographs with her friends and dance with her boyfriend, and make the memories she has anticipated for the last 2 years. Again, it is OK to mourn this loss.
On the other hand, perhaps it is important for all of us to learn that some of the things we worry about are trivial in the spectrum of basic life and health. Although it saddens me for my daughters to have to experience these disappointments, I also hope it will broaden their perspectives about what is happening around them. It’s not always about us, nor was it ever meant to be.
I am reminded about cohort effects, which I studied in undergraduate psychology classes many years ago. The influence that a person’s date and place of birth has on social research is known as the cohort effect, which refers to the similarities in experiences and social influences across a particular age group. In this case, I believe we are dealing with a global (rather than generational) cohort effect. Everyone who will be able to remember living through this time period with such unusual restrictions on our freedoms, and concerns about our health, will remember this time, and it will affect how we view the world and potentially change our habits for the rest of our lifetimes.
As we begin “social distancing”, we will not be attending all of the things we Americans have become accustomed to filling our time with. We won’t be at the ball games, and the concerts, and the dance recitals. Children may not have the athletic practices and music lessons that keep parents shuffling around like a taxi service on a daily basis. We may find that we have time to sit at the dinner table together, and have time to play outdoors in the back yard. Perhaps we will enjoy the company of our neighbors again (maintaining the proper personal space distances of course). Some of this is reminiscent of growing up in the 1970’s, when we did not have nearly as many activities to make our parents lose their sanity, and we had to find ways to entertain ourselves.
There are many people who are going to be negatively impacted by the Covid-19 virus, and I do not want to understate this. Besides the obvious health and mortality issues, we are dealing with economic impacts and emotional tolls which cannot easily be measured. It is tempting to self-quarantine and forget about those in our community with needs. I am having to remind myself that this event will cause many needs to arise with neighbors in my community, and while things may be “peachy” at my home with plenty of food, toilet paper, Clorox and Netflix, there are others who are accustomed to being fed by the public school system, and without school being in session, may not have enough to eat. Some people will be ill, and will need groceries and food to be delivered. I believe this is the time for ALL of us to look outside ourselves, and the 4 walls we may be confining ourselves to, and look for ways to help others. Check on your neighbors, look for community donation pleas, give to charities like The Salvation Army, who give to the less fortunate every day of the year.
I’ve heard some people say that we have become too soft as a society, and that we need something to “reset” us, and help us appreciate the freedom and luxuries many of us are blessed with. September 11 accomplished that for a short time. Sadly, this just may be the “reset” we require, and I hope we are all ready and willing to come together as a country and help each other move forward, “in sickness and in health”.
International Women’s Day is celebrated on March 8. According to its website, the goal of the day is to focus on the achievement of women, raise awareness against bias, and to take action for equality. As International Women’s Day approaches, I find myself thinking about all the women who have been present during my life’s journey, and whose achievements enhanced my formation. There is no way to begin to list the name of every woman who invested in my life and helped form me into the woman I am today. First and foremost would be my mom, whose birthday happens to fall on International Women’s Day. My mom is one of the most nurturing, kind women that you could ever hope to meet. She is a wonderful homemaker and entertainer, and she has the ability to make everyone who enters her home feel welcomed and well-fed. She worked part-time while we were in school, but prioritized being home when my brother and I came home from school. She was waiting for us when we arrived home with a hug and a smile, and many times she had freshly baked treats waiting for us. No matter what kind of day we had experienced outside the haven of our home, we were assured that we were loved and valued within its four walls. She is the biggest reason that I chose to be a full-time stay-at-home mom when my own children were born. She has been my living guidebook for how to be a good mom. Her talents in the kitchen and her skills at food presentation are unmatched. In fact, many people tell her they would pay her to make their favorite appetizers for them to serve at parties, but she always tells them that if it became a job, she would not enjoy it anymore. She cooks for simple enjoyment and to share her gifts with others who can use a prepared meal, and never expects anything in return. She gives her time to her church and charities, and visits nursing home residents on a weekly basis. Her achievements in life have not been the kind that the world tends to celebrate, but they were the kind that raised two children into adults who seek to actively care for and nurture the people around them.
Three generations of strong women
Can we spend a moment discussing teachers? As a young child, the women you spend most of your day with are typically your teachers. There were so many female teachers in my elementary and middle school years, and I can still remember most of them. A few do stand out more than others for their kind words and patience displayed with all of us. I was drawn to the sweet ones who had a gentle nature, but it was later in life that I came to appreciate the ones who had a little less patience for mediocrity. They were the ones who had a keen intellect and recognized it in others and would not accept less from us than they knew we were capable of offering. They were the first to push me, and in turn it gave me a sense of confidence in my abilities. This confidence was a building block which I used to venture into the world. Again, these achievements are not always noticed or appreciated by our society which tends to value titles, material wealth and power.
Some lessons I learned from women were not scholastic in nature, but were no less significant. I had a mentor who helped me learn about a toxic friendship that, at the age of 16, I did not understand was toxic at the time…that was a very important lesson that I would benefit from for the rest of my life. I had a female boss who truly disliked me and made my workplace so uncomfortable that I chose to quit. I realized life is too short and not everyone is going to like you…also a good lesson. I worked for a woman who routinely threw paperclips and rubber balls at the glass partition, which sat between my desk and her office, in order to get my attention. I had to keep that job for financial reasons, but learned about treating others with respect, and learned how it feels when respect is absent. On a humorous note, I actually poured a glass of champagne in the car when my husband and I moved from the city where I held that position. On the flip side, I had a different female boss who taught me about the financial services industry, gave me grace when I made mistakes, and pushed me to become a licensed stock broker, which I accomplished. She celebrated my successes, and rewarded them financially and to this day, 25 years later, we are still friends.
I have also been shaped by my Godmothers, grandmothers, cousins, aunts, mother-in-law and sisters-in-law, nieces, daughters, as well as lots of friends. The numbers of women who influence us in life are innumerable. The value of an outward-focused, honest woman who genuinely cares for your well-being is immeasurable.
International Women’s Day can mean different things to different people. Obviously, there is much progress to be made internationally in the realm of women’s rights and dignity, and equal pay for equal work. I do not wish to discount the importance of those issues. I simply wish to highlight the potential importance and achievements of all women in our world, regardless of education level, social status, or professional experience. We should acknowledge and be thankful for those women who devote their lives to mothering, teaching, nurturing and bolstering the next generation. We must appreciate the women who give their time to work in the church nursery, teach Sunday School, serve meals at the soup kitchen, volunteer behind the scenes at schools, and help mentor children in after school programs. I have two daughters, and I want them to strive to be the very best they can be. I want them to reach for the stars and hope for them to have careers they are passionate about and excel in. I am more concerned, however, about their community mindedness and want them to realize that they can make a difference in the world by making a difference in their little corner of it. In addition, if they choose to devote a portion of their lives to raising children and making a home, I want their choices to be respected, and acknowledged as valid and essential, just as we celebrate women who are CEO’s and politicians, and who hold other positions of power. Most likely, they would not be in the positions they hold without a strong woman behind them cheering them from the stands. On International Women’s Day, let us celebrate women of influence, and may we recognize that there are MANY types of influence worth celebrating!
Here I sit in the Fall of 2018, nearing a mid-term election. A Supreme Court nomination process is underway that has been graphic and nauseating to watch, no matter who you support.Tempers are flaring, there is animosity no matter which political party you align yourself with. Facebook is filled with angry, emotional posts trying to persuade others to a new understanding which will in turn influence a vote, or at the very least, an opinion.
I will be honest, I don’t discuss politics with anyone unless it’s family or my very closest friends. I have a strict “no politics on Facebook” rule for myself. I much prefer the photos of my friends’ children and pets. I love a good viral video that depicts average every day people doing for others and taking care of people in their community. Give me a “feel-good” love story any day. But…politics on social media? Not a good idea, in my humble opinion.
I want to go back to the days when you did not know what political party your friends, mentors and teachers aligned with. You really did not care, to be honest. I grew up in a time when it was taboo to even discuss who you voted for. My parents would not even tell me who they voted for because they believed it was a sacred right, and one that was meant to be exercised with individual research and with respectful privacy. It pains me that my own daughters have never been alive during a time in which there was not ugly, visceral, division between liberals and conservatives. Everyone has to have a label: Republican, Democrat, Conservative, Liberal, Right Wing, Progressive, and so on.
How I wish the labels could be more like this: free-thinker, independent-minded, patriotic, advocate for the down-trodden, lover of fellow-men. I think we have lost sight of the fact that we are all human. Regardless of differing opinions, we all feel pain.
I’ve had the good fortune of attending several live concerts in the past year. I have noticed that every time I attend one of these events I leave feeling happy. I sit amongst thousands of strangers for a few hours and I don’t hate any of them. In fact, I might even feel warmth towards these strangers, and if I’m really fortunate, I leave having made a new friend. In my opinion, music, and the arts in general, are unifying. They weave common, universal life experiences and emotions together to form a song, a play, a piece of art. It’s these common life experiences that expose the humanity that we all share as citizens of the planet. Music has the ability to transcend time and take you back to the day you first heard it. For example, when I listen to U2 Joshua Tree, I immediately go back to my senior year in high school because that was the soundtrack that played in the background of my life that year. It was the first concert I attended without my parents. It takes me back to the days when my only concerns were what I was going to do on the weekend, and how to keep my bangs trained to spike up just right. Concerts bring together people from all walks of life, all income levels, and all generations. For those few hours you get to escape reality and get caught up in music and emotions and it transcends all of our differences. It makes me wish life could be more like a concert.
I’m not foolish enough to think this is possible. I understand that daily life is filled with problems, and issues in our personal and professional lives. I understand the complexity of life and social issues, and I am not idealistic enough to believe we can ever go back to a time when we care more about people’s character and inner spirits than their political leanings. I just wish we could try a little harder with each other. I wish we could put down our phones, look around us, acknowledge and engage with people and seek little ways to help those in need. I believe this would feel as good to us as when we used to lift the lighters in the concert, swaying to the music and taking in that big room of other people who were doing and feeling the very same emotions. I believe we all have more commonalities as people than we have differences, but I think we are going to have to look a little deeper to see them. Perhaps we need to listen more and the let the music, that is life, play without us trying to add so much background noise, lest we be forced to put in the earplugs and risk not being able to hear the music at all.
This week I attended the funeral for a friend. She was taken at 58, which is way too soon in my opinion. She was the guidance counselor at my daughters’ elementary school and had recently retired after decades of service to others. She was particularly helpful to me when my oldest daughter was in 3rd grade and the “mean girls” began to surface. She had such a wise perspective and knowledge about adolescent development. She was able to assure me that all we were experiencing was completely normal, and although unpleasant, it would not last forever. She correctly estimated that the behavior would taper off almost completely by 10th grade as the young women began to truly find their real friends. She peaked a curiosity in myself that inspired me to learn all I could about adolescents and then share that with others who inevitably went through the same things we experienced,
As I sat in the church activities center, I looked around the capacious space which had been filled with as many folding chairs as could possibly fit, and in each chair sat a person who had somehow been affected by Kim’s life, and subsequently her loss. There were hundreds in attendance and I’m sure hundreds more who wish they could have attended. Her husband spoke eloquently about how his life had been blessed beyond measure for having had her by his side for over 40 years. He spoke of how during the last days of her life she was still smiling and encouraging the very nurses who were caring for her (some of whom had known her when they had been in elementary school). The countless stories of how she had impacted strangers began to be conveyed.
It has been years since my daughters went to elementary school and I had the pleasure of seeing Kim on a regular basis. The last time I saw Kim, we were seated by each other at the nail salon. We talked and laughed during our manicures, and she told me about recently becoming a grandmother, and how much she was enjoying that phase of life. In true Kim fashion, the conversation became focused on me and my life, and how my daughters were doing. I left smiling and feeling encouraged and happy to speak to her again after so many years. To be honest, I did not know her well, yet I felt like I did. I felt as if she thought I was special. Our short interactions impacted me enough to compel me to attend her celebration of life. My take-away message is that we all have to hope and strive to impact others the way she did. Her husband adored her, her children considered her to be their best friends, her siblings respected her and enjoyed being with her. She was treasured by her co-workers. Those of us who only knew her from our short interactions, knew her to be a woman who listened, cared, and made you feel valued. She spent her life serving others; putting others before herself.
I mentioned earlier that she was taken too soon in my humble, human opinion. But my friend and I serve and love a God who has eternity as His timeline, and He knows why it was time to call her home, even though all of us who loved her wish we could have had just a little more time. As I left her funeral, although I was saddened and had certainly shed tears, I actually felt uplifted and inspired. I have never felt that way after attending such a service. But even in death, my friend is encouraging and inspiring others. I left with renewed resolve to strive to touch and love on as many people as possible in the days I have left on this earth. I want to encourage others and make them feel valued. I want to cheer for the underdog, just as my friend would have done. At the end of my life when God calls me home, I want those who attend my funeral to feel inspired to live the best version of their lives and spread as much love as possible to the broken world around them. If we all strive for this lofty goal, our world will definitely be a better place to spend our earthly lives. My friend is now beginning her eternity in heaven, and I feel confident she can rest knowing that she fulfilled God’s calling for her life. Here’s to a life well-lived…thank you,my friend, for your example.
https://youtube.com/watch?v=XtwIT8JjddM%3Frel%3D0%2520frameborder%3D0%2520allow%3Dautoplay%3B%2520encrypted-media%2520allowfullscreen