Crying out for help

Earlier this week, I taught a group of amazing kids about the Greek play "The Suppliants" by Aeschylus. I love this play and the themes that it offers and I was excited to see how their minds so quickly grasped concepts and ran with them. I then held a debate with the class, with the men debating the point of view of the women and the women debating the point of view of the king. It was a fascinating experience!

But that is not why I am here. I am writing because a line from this play stuck a chord deep in my soul and I have to record my thoughts. In the play, moments after meeting the king and pleading with him to give them asylum from the horrible Egyptians who want to force them into marriages against their will, the women refer to themselves as follows:

"See me, the suppliant, the wandering fugitive, like a heifer chased by a wolf up the steep rocks, where, trusting to their protection, she lows loudly, letting the herdsman know of her peril."

This took my breath away. I had never considered that base instinct to cry out, loudly, for help when a life is on the line. Even humans, when faced with a deadly pursuer will often cry out even though this reveals their location to the pursuer, as well as to any rescuer.


This may seem like a stupid response but, at least in the case of the heifer, it is a response of deepest faith and trust. That is what struck me so powerfully. That faith and trust. If we focus our energies on what is wrong with us, on the negative voices from within and without, Satan wins. But if we focus our energies on crying out to God and on what we do have that is positive, we can make a difference. Of course, the heifer's lowing is heard by not only the herdsman, but also by the wolf who is pursuing her and yet still she lows, because of her faith that the herdsman will reach her before the wolf does. We need to learn from the heifer and have that kind of faith in God, even as Satan is snapping at our heels, trying to take advantage of our weak and frightened moments. We cannot choose to be faithless victims. We must choose to have faith in whatever higher power we choose to believe in. I have chosen to cry out a couple of times in the past few days and it has honestly made a huge difference. It is a risk but I am willing to take the gamble.

Hurt vs. Injured

"Football players get 'hurt' virtually every practice. When hard plastic meets soft human tissue, soreness sets in quickly. We try to teach our players to play through this soreness. Some are better at it than others. It gets tricky when a player is injured. This would be a time when trauma has occurred to the point where the player can no longer perform at a level that can help the team. Typically this is when a medical professional should be consulted. We leave this to your discretion as parents. Typically, a player can practice when they are hurt, but not when they are injured."


These are the words of Mike Schmidt, the principal and football coach at our local high school where Kodren is now playing football. I have known Mike for many years and have always appreciated his point of view on all areas of education and sports but the above quote is one of my favorite. And I believe that it really applies to life in general, at least it does for me. This is a follow up post to my last post about seeing the parable of the talents in a different light. In that post I stated the following: "People will hurt you if you are vulnerable. I cannot promise otherwise, this will happen." I have pondered this a great deal and I realize that I often take myself out of the game and even out of practice because of a hurt, when I should be able to play through the soreness. I fear that a lot of people in the world are doing likewise. And I think that the people out there who have agendas are using the fact that we want to avoid not only injury but we want to avoid all hurt to keep us from fully living.


How do we learn to play through the soreness? How do we not allow the hurt or the fear of the hurt to rule our decisions and our actions? And if we receive true injuries, how long do we place ourselves out of commission before we jump back into the fray? These are the questions that are weighing on my mind right now. I want to be a star player. I want to seriously make a dent in the mission that I feel I was placed here to fulfill. But I have to learn to play through the soreness and that is hard. I am a wimp. I really, REALLY like to be comfortable and safe but it is time now to take risks and push myself. In the words of my daughter Michayla, "It is time for adventure". A large enough part of me is ready for adventure to begin to do some hard things and to push back against the pain and soreness. So tell me...how do you find a way to play through the soreness? And how do you manage to understand fully when you are hurt vs injured? I would really love to get some feedback on these ideas. I want to be fully alive and not have anyone and their agenda(s) rule over me because of my fears or needs to be comfortable.

A new "ah-hah" on a beloved parable

I love the parable of the talents. I do not pretend to understand it completely, but I always thought I had a pretty good grasp on the basic concept. But today I got a blessed insight into this parable that gave me peace and hope and a soft heart and I am so grateful. So...I had to get it down before I forgot or the impact lessened. Keep reading if you want, but this one is really for me, something that I must not forget.


I had always seen the talents or money in this story to represent...well...talents or spiritual gifts. And I still believe this to be true. But there can always be additional meanings to scripture, especially to a parable, which can have so many levels. As I have been carrying on a few conversations over the past few days and even weeks, it has struck me repeatedly that we need to really work on having an open and (at least) relatively vulnerable heart if we are to truly be ambassadors of Christ. This is difficult and downright scary because vulnerability so often means pain. People will hurt you if you are vulnerable. I cannot promise otherwise, this will happen. But I do believe that if we are soft and vulnerable and open to being led by the spirit of God then the joy we receive will more than compensate for any pain that we suffer.


As I was petitioning (well begging) the Lord for a soft heart this morning, the parable of the talents popped into my head only I felt the spirit whisper that I should substitute the idea of "heart" for the word talents in the story. WHOA! Think about it. God gives us the opportunity to have a good heart, a heart that has even been called to be a servant of Him. But we must choose how we use that heart. Do we take it out and invest it in a number of relationships and discover that there are a number of ups and downs in the relationship market but in the end we get back at least double for what we put in? Or do we think that we must take care of this heart and protect it and return it to God completely unscathed so we bury our heart and we put up walls and defenses and in the end, we have only our own rather shriveled heart to present to God. It has not grown and God is disappointed both in us and for us because of the richness and opportunity lost.


In the version of this parable found in Matthew chapter 25, the Lord follows up the parable of the talents with those beautiful verses that say, in part, "For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me..." This speaks even more strongly to me that the parable of the talents might be more about the charitable heart than we realize.


We are in a time in the world when we truly cannot afford to shut away our hearts. We have to put ourselves out there and find those in need of our special offerings and we have to do God's work here on earth as his instruments. I can testify that when I am operating with this kind of attitude, I am seriously the richest woman on the earth. I find myself surrounded by people that I love and by increased opportunity to offer and to feel love.


As Pastor Ed said in cowboy church a couple of weeks back, we must stop arguing doctrine and spending our energy on trying to be right and find the common ground we have in Christ and be the body of Christ within that common ground, no matter what our doctrinal differences. I am working to continue to have the faith to open my heart and to love and to serve every chance I get. I do not say this flippantly. It will not be easy, but I do believe that my investment will pay off in a big way and I do believe that it will be worth it.

An interesting story that always makes me think

One of my heroes is Glikl of Hamburg, a Jewish merchant woman who lived and wrote an incredible journal in the late 1600's. Here is one of my favorite stories from her journals. Scholars call this story the antithesis of King Lear, which is one more reason that it intrigues me. I would love to hear thoughts on what you think of this and what you think that Glikl was trying to say to her children with this story. Thanks for reading and have a great day.



IN THE LAST DECADE of the seventeenth century-the year 5451 by the Jewish reckoning- a Jewish merchant woman of Hamburg wrote down a story for her many children. It told of a father bird who lived with his three fledglings along a seashore. One day a fierce storm came up, sending huge waves over the sands. "If we cannot get to the other side at once we are lost," said the bird, and took the first fledgling into his claws and started over the sea. Halfway across, the parent said to his son, "What troubles I have to stand from you! And now I'm risking my life-strength for you. When I am old, will you also do good to me and support me?" The little bird replied, "My dear beloved father, just take me across the water. I will do for you in your old age all that you want of me." Whereupon the parent dropped the birdling into the sea and said, "So should be done with a liar like you."

The parent bird flew back for the second fledgling and halfway across said to it the same words. The little bird promised to do for him all the good in the world. Again the father dropped his young into the sea, saying, "You, too, are a liar." Carrying the third birdling across the water, he asked the same question. The little bird answered , "Father, dear father, all that you say is true, that you have had troubles and grief because of me. I am duty bound to repay you, if it is possible; but I cannot promise for certain. This, however, I can promise: when one day I have young children of my own, I will do for them as you have done for me." At this, the father said, "You speak aright and are also clever. I will let you live and will take you across the water."'

Distractions

The assignment was to observe nature on the City Hall grounds in downtown Salt Lake. We were to observe for then minutes or so and then begin writing. LaRae pointed out that there were benches located around circular planting areas and so we headed that way. Then I spotted the next group of plantings over and I just had to go there. I knew it would be fragrant because I could see lavender and I could also see many, many bees moving around through the lamb’s ear plants (and yes, I did pet them). It was as fragrant as I hoped in fact it was divine and enveloped me almost as soon as I sat down. And I quickly found myself distracted in the most silly way. I noticed a roly-poly bug moving on the sidewalk in front of me and it took a great deal of willpower for me to stay on that bench and not get down on my hands and knees and frighten him into a ball. But, that was a momentary distraction and it was not what really grabbed my attention, after watching the bees for a few moments (and being so very grateful to see so many bees in one place) I realized that I could not hear the bees. I wanted to hear them but that becomes difficult in a city setting with traffic, skateboard, and people noises. So I tried watching the bees. I knew that they were moving and that, while the sound was soft, it was there. But stare though I might, I could not hear them. So I tried looking up. Being the cloud freak that I am, and having such great clouds moving over the top of the City Hall towers, I thought that this would help me to focus and hear the bees. But, as they often do, the clouds distracted me and I pretty much forgot about the bees. It was worth the distraction. Those clouds, with good movement, against the backdrop of the gorgeous City Hall with its spires and statues, were incredibly beautiful. It was very tough to tear myself away and turn my attention back to the bees. But I managed. I finally tried closing my eyes and concentrating on hearing the bees. It was not enough. The outside sounds were overwhelming. So I began to go through the steps of my sacred warriorship meditation and at about three steps in I began to sense the bees. I was feeling them and their movement more than hearing actual buzzing but it was a start. At this point I realized that I could hear crickets chirping so I knew that my efforts were working. Then I realized that I could hear the buzzing I wanted to hear but it was mostly coming from behind me. I opened my eyes and looked behind me and quickly realized that there was a rather cantankerous large drone back there who was literally picking fights with other workers. So I laid my head back on the bench and closed my eyes again and moved back into meditation mode. Now all I could hear was Mr. Grumpy Drawers. I could no longer sense the overriding collective droning that had been so beautiful and peaceful. I couldn’t even really hear the crickets any longer. I do believe that I could have captured that connection again if I had continued into deeper meditation but I really hate to do that when I am working with time constraints. So I opened my eyes again and played with the lamb’s ear plants for a while. I was sad. I had loved those brief moments when I felt the collective buzzing deep in my chest.

As I finished my observing time and thought about the applications to my life, and myself it quickly boiled down to distraction. I hate the fact that that there are so many distractions in my life and that I, in turn, can be such a distraction for others. I long to be a part of a collective where the buzzing is in harmony and all are filling their stewardships with peaceful abandon. How can I foster this, beginning with my own thoughts and then my own family, then my other communities? I think that helping bring that kind of connection is part of my mission here on earth. But it is overwhelming to consider and I really am not sure how to avoid being a Mr. Grumpy Drawers. And how does one maintain one’s individuality and the individuality of others and maintain that peaceful, loving collective? That is God’s plan, that is what we want for our eternity and we must be working to create that as much as possible here on earth. My cousin Patty’s recent work on my energy tied me to so many things and people, even many generations back on my family line. I truly want that cleansing to allow me to be more connected and open to those connections, especially in my family. There is a huge part of me that seriously wants to remain a Mr. Grumpy Drawers. I. Must. Choose. I do realize that I have to be careful and protect my children and myself but I need to work on being as open as possible while still sheltering correctly. Only the spirit can guide me to work this fine line. I am going to end here by acknowledging that I can see that I am clearer and in a much better place than I was even a week ago because I did this assignment without a moment of reservation or argument or grumpiness. That is huge. Of late, my natural response has always been to question and debate and get dark and closed to this kind of activity but I did not even give this one a second thought. I just did it and I am glad and I am now going to desperately try and build on this clearness and understanding to make myself as positive an influence as possible.

PS. Since writing this back on the 13th of July, it has been stunning to me the amount of times that bees have cropped up in moments of despair or self doubt. I do believe that the bee is going to be an intense symbol that God uses in my life for a time to help me keep my focus. How I appreciate these symbols and reminders.

Reactions

I have had a number of things occur in the past few days that make me really consider my reactions. What do I do in the few seconds after an incident or a question or an occurrence or a meeting with someone and just how much do those reactions say about me. Do they reflect negatively on me, as they did on the woman that I saw blatant racism from tonight when a young man that was in my company offered her his chair and she stated that she did not want his chair and then seconds later another young man offered her the same thing and she took his chair. There was only one difference between these two young men, the young man with me was African-American and the other young man was not. I felt truly ill. I do not want to ever make someone feel sick due to one of my reactions.


On the flip side, I had two very positive reactions in these past days that warmed my heart and got my tear ducts lubricated. Yesterday, while visiting Tarpon Springs, and particularly the Greek sponge diving area of town, I left Tim and Michayla shopping and I slipped into the public bathroom. I needed to use the restroom but I also needed to apply some aloe lotion to an intense sunburn I received on the beach (a sunburn that is really Michayla's fault, but that is another story). In the bathroom I observed an elderly Greek woman sitting in front of the hand dryer, with a loaded cleaning cart next to her. As women came out and washed their hands, this woman would tear off a paper towel from the roll in her lap and hand them a towel to wipe their hands with. She had a small tip jar in her lap where women were dropping a dollar or change in exchange for her service. I was dismayed as I saw one woman refuse the offered towel and lift her dripping hands over the elderly woman and proceed to use the hand dryer, all the while dripping on the elderly woman's back. But the old lady did not seem to mind, she just kept distributing her paper towels and all of the other women that I observed, while they may have at first been taken back, all quickly caught on and took the towel and left a tip. It was rather painful to watch, actually, due to the fact that this elderly woman's hands were extremely twisted and bent with arthritis and it was not an easy task to even tear the paper towels off of the roll. When my turn came, I was prepared and I left a nice tip in her jar and thanked her. Then I moved off to one side so that I could apply my aloe gel. At this point, there was only the elderly woman and me in the bathroom. As I lifted my pant leg, the woman gasped (it is a pretty nasty burn) and she immediately went down on her knees, out of her chair, held out her hands and said, in broken English, "let me rub on the cream". I was stunned at first as I looked at those knobby hands. I took her hands in mine and told her that I could do it and I found myself tearing up as I asked if this was her job and how bad her pain was. She explained that she also cleans the bathroom and that this was indeed how she earned a living since her husband died. Now...I do understand that she may have attempted to apply the gel for me because she was seeking additional tips, but it seemed like just a genuine and sweet reaction to my injury. And I was seriously touched. Yes, I cried. I pretty much kept it together until I left the bathroom, but then I had to take a moment and work through it. And as I leaned against the building and thought through this experience, I found myself desperately hoping that I would fall on my knees, off of my chair, if I saw someone in pain. It was a powerful reaction.


Finally, today. I was a grump. I went to Sea World with Michayla and Kaylei, they met some friends so I had a bite to eat with them and then I went my own way. I am tired and footsore and I found some of my favorite animals, but I could not find the one that I really wanted and the park was extremely crowded and I was just being grumpy. So I sat down on a bench to write a really grumpy status on Facebook about how I dislike people and I only care for the animals in this place. I opened the app and started to log in and then I saw a young man skip by the bench where I sat and I saw the "eyes" from his penguin Sea World cup (think Mr. Potatohead eyes) fall down and roll away. I will admit it, I sat there for a moment or two and stared at it and thought about the effort I would have to make in order to retrieve that toy piece and then chase the boy down. But I finally got up off my big, fat, rear end and grabbed the piece and headed for the boy. I got to him at about the same time he realized that he was missing the eyes and was beginning to scan the ground around him. I tapped his shoulder and held out the eyes to him and his reaction was so priceless. Before he could even take a second breath, he had thrown his arms around my waist and squealed, "Thank you! I love you!" Again, I was stunned for a moment but then I put my arms around him as well and told him he was very welcome. And his mother smiled at me over his head and it was a perfect moment. And I turned away and walked over to my bench and wrote a much different status. But this moment also got me thinking about reactions. I do not have this kind of grateful reaction nearly enough. I have a lot of great people who do a lot of great things for me and I need to throw my arms around more people, without even thinking about it far more often than I do.


I want to have what my husband and I have termed a "Charity Reflex". I want my knee-jerk, very first reactions to be as Christlike as possible and I do not want to have to stop and think about it, I want my reactions to be just as reflexive as these two people that wandered into my life. I need to find a way to work on this area in my life. I am still working out just what kind of exercises one must do in order to have better reactions and I would love suggestions...

One of THOSE moments

It doesn't happen very often, but every once in awhile we got one of those extra special moments when we know that God is real and that he is aware of us. This just happened to me and I am so grateful. It has been a long day and I should have gone to bed but the water was calling me and so I donned a suit and headed out the pool alone to soak off the day's stickiness. I did a few exercises and such and then I just stretched out and floated and as I looked up, I saw the gorgeous moon (I believe that it is no accident that Cynthia means "moon goddess") and she was looking down at me through the spokes of the screened covering which looks remarkably like a gorgeous spiderweb when viewed looking up from below (and you all know how much spiders mean to me) and the heavy, gorgeous scent of the neighboring orange grove was wafting over me and there was this intense and weighty sense of anticipation. But, anticipation of what? And then...it happened. As I floated there, almost breathless, a wee cloud floated in and took just the right position and formed the most incredible rainbow corona around the moon and there it was, there was the moment. There was that undeniable and completely encompassing sense of wholeness, peace and love. Like the entire multiverse was giving me a hug and just everything loves me and I love it all right back. And then, after I caught my breath, I suddenly realized that I was crying. Not weeping, just leaking. And I was complete and worthy and whole and it has been a long time since I felt one of those moments. God is good.