Reconstruct

 I think for so long I thought that if I just did all the things right I would be good and be in the good graces of others, but now I am so full of grey areas that perhaps all I can do is know God is always here and that I need to care for humanity in a way that is real and not an idealization of what is thought to be, or only a perspective that is relevant for me or people who are more well off than me. I wish I had more words here, but what I can say is that I am learning and I will keep learning and continue to think and be compassionate in my life. I will try to be okay with being uncomfortable in not always agreeing with those around me. These are skills I need to learn and grow in and that's okay. 

Things I am learning that I want to do more for:

Actually helping people get affordable housing.

Help with the immigrants at the border more

Help improve air quality for others.

Help advocate for gun control methods, especially with background checks. 

Somehow remove big oil's hold on society so that we can actually have a planet for my children once grown.

The tree grows

Sometimes i get jealous of perfectly manicured lawns with weed protected flower beds and just the right sized bushes and trees. It seems like it would be nice to have it all under control. To know where this one bit is going and that nothing will surprise you or be a nuisance. Or even that things could be curated to be just the right manageable size. 

The thing is my yard is never like that. I often have an experiment growing one place, an  over run raspberry patch or strawberries popping up everywhere. Many times I have to cut out the trees that try to grow in the bushes and choke out the flowering shrub. Sometimes one tree overtakes another and we have to ax the more mangled one to minimize the chaos. And there are so many clovers and weedy things all around. But to me its beautiful if I let myself acknowledge it. Sure at time we have to take down something dying or pull out the never dying ivy. But there is beauty in it because it is alive. It is growing. 

I have been contemplating this all for what seems like a long while, at least since early pandemic stages. I found myself trying to keep a certain appearance of things, but more and more, I realize that its just a different yard. That sometimes, its simply a story book house, with possibilities instead of a perfectly manicured plot of land which is never going to be what is inside my head, so maybe its okay to have it not be outside as well. 

And so things grow in my yard. And they grow particularly well often. We have a lot of science experiments and perhaps also some volunteers planted by squirrels and the compost bin. But it is absolutely full of life. This is also true of inside my house. I know that some days, I would love a minimalist home with neat and tiny things, but with 7 people in a 1200sq ft house, mostly at home all day, this isn't going to be the case. We are going to be living, and living we should. 

So the life is there and the tree grows, the one outside and the one inside. And sometimes its scary in that growth, its unpredictable, and its full of unknowns. It still happens, at least if you let it. Sometimes the weeds pop up and sometimes the branches are lopsided. But it is growing!! And in growing, it isn't stagnant, its becoming who God is intending it to be, with some love and some maintenance and some science experiments, it can thrive and keep extending and strengthening those branches, unafraid to test the waters of something outside the box that one knows. 

I am glad the tree grows. I don't think God would want it any other way. 

It's not that I don't love you

 It's not that I don't love you, that I have to go away.

It's more that I do, because we didn't know how to play.

This game of changing roles, to be a supportive friend.

You couldn't be that for me, and I tried so hard to bend.

To be what you needed me to be, but that wasn't me at all.

Instead it often made me curl up into a ball.

I'm learning that I need to know I'm okay.

And that for now that means that I can't stay.

I think you did a lot for me and helped me to grow.

And hopefully you will someday be able to let go. 

Compassion

After reading The Return of the Prodigal Son by Henri Nouwen, I am renewed in my understanding of who God is and who he is not. One large take away from Nouwen is how he says that God's only authority is his compassion. It's almost a double take. How does a God, the maker of the world only rule by compassion. Compassion is love and grace and mercy. And these are God in actuality. But what is compassion? 

Compassion isn't engagement enmeshment. A friend once told me that compassion can simply be putting a blanket on a drunk family member and then stepping over them. One can't force a person to see the beauty of good things, of God, of better relationship, of better coping mechanisms. 

Compassion is making sure you are fed so that you don't lash out at your children. It somehow is easier to hurt yourself to be holy than to help yourself or another so that you are actually closer to God. 

Compassion is also making sure you get what you need to be a whole person. That can be assurance, food, rest, a shower, all those things that we want for our children that we too need. 

I realize perhaps I need more compassion for myself in all this. I had to make hard decisions and walk away from some pretty tough things for me. I struggle often to know with myself that its okay to be okay. That its okay to be able to have time to rewire my brain to know that good can come of my decisions, not just ill judgment. To have compassion is to somehow really know that I am doing okay and be surrounded by people that can be that for me. 

I started and finished this many days apart, many of them searching for God in the cracks this Lent. I know he's there, I've felt him there, but somehow we are still learning how to really know him at least in this season of life where everything feels backwards. But I think there can be compassion in the growth too, there's got to be. I don't want to worship a God that wouldn't let me grow, so I'll choose to believe he wants me to. 

Confession

I have a confession to make. I am trying to figure out how to feel about confession. Part of me knows that I am super hard and scrupulous on myself and I am trying to reconcile what that means when it comes to confession. Is what I did actually a sin? Do I need to actually go? Why is going so stressed? Are we all supposed to be so scrupulous?  Are most people not this way? Do most people just make mistakes and not think about the impact they have on others? I am just unsure of what to think.

I do think that every time I come out of the confessional I do feel loved. I do get told not to be so hard on myself, that I am fighting the good fight, making hard choices etc. And yet, somehow it just doesn't make sense at times putting it all together. 

I have figured out that I want to be able to make more mistakes and not berate myself. I do think that would be best. I am not sure how that is confession addressable though. I wonder if this carries over to my kids, and I do think it does. I am sure they will need just as much therapy as me, even if I have tried to break the cycle of abuse. 

Anyway, if you are someone that reads this and I know you, or don't know you. Pray for me. Also, Happy St. Nicholas Day!

Different from what you expect

 I remember telling myself a story about being left out. Years ago, I saw a social media post of a friend and many mutual friends getting together and i had FOMO and all of a sudden felt excluded. I had rationalized that I had said something that had this person pull away, as another encounter she was distant too. 

So i first texted her and she had no idea why I was upset. She had her own issues and life that wasn't trying to shut me out. It just was what it was. But I called her and told her my interpretation, and really she could have called me silly or just dumb or yelled back at me. But she sat and she listened. She listened to all my grievances and was glad to hear me out. She explained how the situation was much different than what I had thought it to be, and I don't think I fully understood that day, but I got a different response than I expected. 

You see I usually expect someone to either be doing something behind my back to exclude me or to blow up back at me. When I didn't get this response, my brain was perplexed. And as I now have learned about how the brain learns that you can actually be retrained to know that a different response is a possibility and then actually know one is loved, this friend's response years ago is sticking with me. I am thankful for this encounter. 

As I lay here

 I was sitting in bed trying to sleep just a little longer this morning, but my head decided to wander in thought, so I thought I should get it out. 

It went from first how divergent in character I am, to how I would not survive an internment camp to how there are so many at the border that are living this internment camp life daily. To I wonder if there is an authority that lets human trafficking happen because it benefits them and their selfishness. To the idea that perhaps they don't even know that they are being selfish because they have grown up thinking abuse is right. 

And that had me finally thinking about the police. I know that the police are a hot button issue. A lot of people think we need them and really that we need more of them so there will be less lawlessness. My hot take is that we don't. That a system that was founded on catching runaway slaves and has never ever had that addressed is going to remain bias no matter what. Even the "good cop" is going to have internal bias to think that a certain profile is a criminal or that everyone is a criminal as I learned certain police departments do. The former perpetuates abuse the latter perpetuates mistrust. I am not certain of the solution. 

My bias would be to take away all of the guns in this country sans hunting and sport rifles. I can allow people to hunt animals and use them well and to have sport rifles like archers have bow and arrows for target practice. I really don't think we need to have weapons every time we leave the house. At times I am terrified that every third person is carrying a weapon concealed in their clothes when out and about. I try to let it not bother me when I send my kids off in pairs down the street together, but it creeps in there every so often. Honestly though, they aren't the target. 

The mentality that we need more guns on our person when the police are a mess is so odd. And I know this is such a complex issue, because the brown skinned person, they aren't likely to really be cared for by the police, at least not in the same way. So in some ways, a self protection measure makes sense. But I absolutely wish it didn't have to be that way. 

But how do we actually solve the bias of going after the brown person? How do we solve the abuser mentality that goes along with police work? Scrap it? Counsel the heck out of people? Undo our patriarchal society that allows always at least half of our society to be less than? If you know please tell me. The abuse the hurt, it's just not okay.