Learning to Just "Stand There"

This past week has been something of a new experience for me. All I’ve done is sit in logistical sessions with 40 other people. But yet this week has made me feel completely incompetent, overly excited, humbled, in awe of others, like I don’t fit in, and like I’m part of something magnificent all at once. It seems like every 15 minutes there are more questions that could receive days of thought; my mind has been on overload. And many times it’s because something was said that convicted me to the core. But for a start:

“In our desire to help others, we often do more harm than good.” There was a story about a woman from Kenya who came up to a missionary and asked her to put in a word for her so that she might obtain a visa to the U.S. so that she could relocate. Even though she was pleading, the missionary said “no”. The missionary went to the church representative to tell him about the situation and found out that that woman had tried so often that the high commissioner in their country had her on his list. Had one more American asked about this lady, there would have been no chance for her to relocate. Ever. Through other circumstances that went through correct channels and with appropriate cultural norms, this woman is now living in the U.S. and doing well. The point was that we need to spend time in our countries and cultures and learn about them and their system and respect it in every way. People will ask for many things, believing that we can do whatever they ask. But if we try to act on our own and in whatever ways we deem worthy, without a clear understanding of how that culture operates and what has been done previously, we often do them more harm than good. What does that do to our understanding of Jesus? People so often label him as kind and compassionate, when there were many instances when it seems like he was anything but that. How does this concept fit into that?

“Don’t just do something; stand there.”

“God’s mission is to restore community with the world.”

“If you are in a losing streak, don’t play fantasy baseball. Go back to the basics.”

“Bread and wine in the hands (of Father Delatorio) is an instrument of revolution.”

“We can’t just continue to do things the way we have because we think it’s the same old…we have to understand the culture, which is under construction.” What if that were applied to those of us still working at home…

“Accompaniment”. The underlying belief in global mission in the ELCA is accompaniment. What does it mean to accompany people?

“It’s about humility…it’s like a novel. The story is not about us. It’s God’s story and the plot is God’s mission in the world. Neither the story nor the plot are about you. The principle characters are the people in the country where you serve. Your service is about being a minor character in a major novel. You are privileged, however, to contribute to the story and the story line is richer for your roll, small though it may be. Remember, you are not called to be great or important. You are called to be faithful. Embrace the humility.”

There have been so many other things that have been brought up that I can’t possibly expound upon. I could talk for days just from what I’ve been given in the past 4 days, and I have 2 ½ weeks to go yet. And theoretically we are just now getting into the conceptual stuff. However, as a closing thought:

“But we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us.” 2 Corinthians 4:7

Failing Fools

I overheard someone complimenting another this morning with the words, “…that’s why he’s so good at what he does. He’s not afraid to make a fool of himself.” I find this interesting. It’s not a new concept; in fact, it’s one that I’ve heard exhorted many times. That in order to be really great at something, you have to be willing to not only fail, but fail with flair.

I am generally not someone who is willing to fail. It’s actually something that I’ve been anticipating coming up in one of my first conversations with my supervisor in a few weeks. “What are you hoping to get from this experience?” “The ability to fail.” It’s not so much that right now I never fail, but the fact that I try not to put my self in positions in which I believe I will fail. I never do anything that I don’t know I can already do to some degree of competency. This generally doesn’t work if one wants to get anywhere.

This, of course, begs the question – where are you trying to get, and why? Why should I need to “get” anywhere? It’s one thing to continue to change over the course of life because that’s just what humans do, whether they want to or not. Situations and experiences and conversations and people shape us. But it’s another to seek change. And for what benefit? The faith would teach us that we don’t become “better” and that God loves and saves us no matter where and who we are. So the point? None that I can see. And yet it is something that is generally upheld as a virtue: the desire for and the accomplishment of growth. The need to be “great”.

So is there really an impasse? Can we embrace failure for the sake of learning and not for the sake of greatness? Can we fail others for the sake of others and not simply to “further” ourselves? But at the same time never actually aim for failure? Is it possible to truly accept the change that happens in ourselves that comes as a result of life, yet not try to create “inner change” ourselves? What would that look like?

Adaptation out of Need

There's a song on the radio that fascinates me and I looked up the music video to it. It's "Older I Get" by Skillet. Part of it reads:

"The time between those cutting words built up our defenses. Never made no sense, it just made me hurt. Do you believe that time heals all wounds? It started getting better, but it's easy not to fight when I'm not with you. The older I get, will I get over it? It's been way too long for the times we missed, I didn't know then it would hurt like this. But I think the older I get maybe I'll get over it. It's been way too long for the times we missed; I can't believe it still hurts like this."

Now before you start thinking that I'm a silly 24-year-old who thinks she's getting old or who thinks she has too much pain to work through, hear me out as to why this is interesting to me. It was not so much the words in and of themselves, but the video they put to it. Almost the entire video showed the band having a good time with one another. They were in relationships with one another that obviously meant a great deal to them and were encouraging and fun. So this made me think about how life works. There are so many things that cause such a great deal of pain, and some of them we never move beyond. We adapt and we live with whatever scar was given, but people and events become a permanent part of our lives. And yet, with all of that pain, we continue to love. We continue to seek people out. We continue to laugh and sigh and be content and, yes, even happy. I find that amazing.

This is my prayer, that your love may overflow

Tonight I was at a sort of derivative of a worship service. It was a service to send off everyone going to Mexico next week for a mission trip. And a man was talking about how wonderful it is that we're giving so much to the people of Juarez. How we're giving a week of our lives to build homes and rework plumbing and electrical wiring and such. Yes, we are saints indeed. God must certainly be pleased with each and every one of us.

Isn't it our call as Christians to do this? Maybe not in Mexico, but anywhere? And maybe not to build houses, but to serve in whatever capacity that might be, whether that is psychological, physical, etc.? We should not be praised for this; we should be doing this as an automatic reaction to the faith that has been given us by God. We are to serve not for the sake of our glorification, and not for the sake of converting people, but because God is working through us for the sake of the world.

This brought me to thinking about this another way, though. If it is our duty, which is what I have been taught since birth, then it seems that there is automatically a weight that comes with it. I HAVE to do this. It becomes a burden, and not a joyful reaction. And that is how I'm feeling about this trip right now. I have absolutely no desire to leave for Juarez on Saturday. It's hard for me to care about the people we're going there to serve, or to care about the youth that I will be serving as a leader. It's hard for me to care about others in general right now. And I hate that, but don't know what to do about it. I have been pushed into a trip that I never wanted to participate in in the first place, and so everything that has gone into it has been full of resentment for me. I am spiteful towards those who love me instead of figuring out how to serve them best. What is that? Why is that? These things, again, should be something that I do because God has called me to it - not because I am an ungrateful child who has been forced or because my heart is so spectacular. How does one go from resentment of the burden to reveling in the joy of giving? Where is the line between human nature and the reality of sin...and that of the work of God in and through us?

Trust

So the topic of the day is trust. I think there are certain types of trust that I'm not very good at. Or rather, I KNOW that there are kinds of trust that I don't exhibit, and that I sometimes wish I did. Believing people when they tell me about themselves or about situations isn't difficult and, (most of the time) if someone tells me they'll do something, I'll rely on them to do it.

The problem is that I don’t trust humanity, or human nature. I don’t trust people to really love. I somehow think that there is the capacity to love - I just don’t believe that people actually do love. So when it comes to relationships, and trusting that the other person is not trying to hurt me, I have problems. I a) think that at the first sign of a problem, they will run, and b) that these “problems” are my fault. When hurtful comments are made, when someone retracts their previous words or actions, when someone appears to be avoiding me, etc., I unfairly put the fault of the cause upon myself, but the fault of the ensuing fight upon them. I get upset with them for not understanding me and what I’m trying to say, but the reality is that there’s just as much misunderstanding on my part as on theirs.

Afterwards, of course, I feel badly about my own words and actions, and then come to the conclusion that the other person is so upset with me that they simply won’t want to deal with me anymore. I don't trust their desire to be my friend. I don't trust them to want to work on a relationship. I don't trust them to be able to handle conflict. I don't trust their willingness to accept me as an imperfect human. And not only is that unfair to them, but it is unfair to me.

I'm trying to understand the underlying cause of this. Is it narcissism? Am I so caught up with myself that I can't see any life situation outside of myself that could possibly be affecting someone else? Is it a derivative of narcissism: an extremely low opinion of myself that drives me to assume that I am always the problem? Or is it simply that enough of my past relationships have failed that I come to the conclusion that I am doing something wrong? I don't know.

So now I’m stuck. My beliefs about humanity are necessary for my theology and for the rest of my life. And yet it hurts any and all relationships that I’m in. It seems that no matter if I put my trust in peoples’ good will, or if I put it in their inability to truly love, I end up hurt. And I realize that it’s not necessarily one or the other. But it seems that the former is preferable. How does one learn to trust in that way?

Rain

I love rain. It's just cleansing. It cries with you, it washes out hurt, it's peaceful. I need rain; there are few things that are as calming to me. And when things are going well, it just adds to the contentedness. But it never lasts long enough. Maybe I should move to Seattle.

Universal Malfunction

I am someone who needs to learn better organizational skills and learn to prepare ahead and just generally be a less chaotic person. I think. So when days like today happen, it frustrates me, because it throws all of that out the window. I think it was one of those times when there must be something in the universe causing all children to be completely unfocused. And I don't mean simply paying attention to whatever. I mean that there are very real, physical wanderings of the body. Arms kind of float around, feet trip over themselves in ways you have never seen before, and foreheads somehow find their ways into paint. They can't help it; it's not a choice. They simply malfunction on an entirely new level.

Now, I love my jr. high students. They are fun; they are chaotic; they are the personification of energy; they are fabulous. But today wasn't even high-energy for all of them. It was simply chaos. I was completely exhausted after 10 minutes. I don't know how to describe it. We made it through tie-dying shirts and painting a collage (kind of) - but even that was a feat. Hopefully they heard something about John the Baptist and baptism in there somewhere, but God only knows.

So when I was much more prepared today than yesterday, and yesterday went 14x better than today, it tells me that I should never work on anything. I should just run with whatever and not even try to prepare anything, because it won't matter. They will never know the difference. They have no clue whether I worked 40 hours on something or 40 minutes; it all comes out the same.

I don't know. I don't feel completely defeated yet; just exhausted. But if tomorrow is like today, making it through the week could be quite the challenge. Praise God for hope and strength. And praise God that I still love these malfunctioning creatures, draining though they are.

Demanding Imperfection

"A person doesn’t have to be perfect to be exactly what you need." – J.D. on Scrubs

I’ve been thinking about this lately. I have a friend who continues to point out to me that I am human. And this is a good thing. Because being human means that I will mess up, demand what cannot be demanded, and be incredibly hurtful to others. But it also means that I have the capacity to love, serve, and give to others.

The thing is that when I think about other people and their relationship to me, I don’t expect or want them to be perfect. If they were, that would just make me feel like I could never live up to them and it would do more damage than if they just screwed up once in a while. But yet I feel the need to be exactly what the other person “needs” all the time. I try so hard to figure out what role I need to play, that not only do I guess the wrong “role”, I also am inept at playing said role, and the whole thing ends up in a mess. I forget that the reason the person is talking to me or spending time with me in the first place is because they wanted to be with me, and not some character that I’ve chosen to play. And really, it’s through the arguments and the conflicts and the hurt that we know each other, as much as through the fun and laughter, yes? Learning boundaries and why what words mean what to the other, and why what actions have the effect they do is a fascinating process.

I know none of this is a new thought, and that thinking through this isn’t going to make me stop trying to compensate or stop being a demanding friend. It’s not going to make any of my relationships less frustrating. But it is nice to know that there are people who don’t expect me to be perfect around them and will still love me when I not only fall flat on my own face, but also bring them down with me.

Running Headlong into the Thud

So I love cartoons - always have. My parents still save the Sunday comics for me and send them up once in a while. And every so often there is one that just speaks to life more than others. I tried to upload one of them here, but it was too big, and being the not-computer-literate person that I am, I am going to have to describe it for you. So imagine Charlie Brown and Lucy standing in the field, Lucy with football in hand. And Lucy says to Charlie Brown...

"The whole trouble with you is you don't trust anyone!"
"Look...every year you pull the same trick on me...you say you're going to hold the ball while I kick it, but you never do! You always pull it away, and I land flat on my back! Every year you pull the same trick! EVERY SINGLE YEAR!"
"Listen, Charlie Brown, if you're going to get along in this world, you have to learn to be TRUSTING...anyone can trust someone who's trustworthy...I'm giving you a chance to learn to trust someone who is NOT trustworthy!"
"You're right..I've got to learn to be more trusting...you hold the ball, and I'll kick it..."

He runs with great speed.

"SHE DID IT AGAIN!" (As she pulls out the ball and he goes flying.)

WHAM! (thud.)

She looks down at him lying on the ground and says, "See you here again next year?"


THAT cartoon is my life. I chose to put that one on my board, not so much because of it's funniness, but as a reminder to me. I continuously get myself into the same situations. And I always fall flat on my back. And for some reason, just like Charlie Brown, I can't seem to force myself to do otherwise. I consciously "know" the outcome. I can explicitly tell you all of the repercussions. And yet, I can't do anything different, even if my life depended on it. And on top of that, just like the cartoon, both Charlie Brown and Lucy KNOW that this will happen again the following year. It's not even a question. Why is that? I think the process of running headlong into that elusive ball is just way too much fun.

So maybe by having this cartoon on my board, if I happen to look at it before entering once again onto the football field, I'll at least contemplate the headache from the fall. Maybe? Nope. Probably not.

By the way, I learned today that Tide pens get communion wine out of white confirmation gowns. Good to know, yes?

Sabotage

I remember sitting in Sunday school in jr. and sr. high and getting these sheets that had what I would now call “case studies” on them. A situation would be outlined, and being the good LC-MSers that we were, we would figure out the “right” and “moral” thing to do. And you know what? The answer was always incredibly easy. In fact, I despised these exercises, because I thought the people portrayed in them were just dumb. How could their issue be all that difficult? You tell the truth. You don’t cheat. You obey your parents, and you never gossip.

But then I started to actually be in relationships with people. And I am still learning, the hard way, that relating with humans is always messy and never simple. There is never any part of a relationship that is not violent. You are either fighting against one another, or in a free fall with them, or both. Even in good relationships it’s scary, and it leads to realities that are far from understandable. You think back to when you first met whoever it was, and try to remember how you had no clue what you were getting yourself into. You were starting one of the most wonderful, and yet at the same time, most crushing, relationships. And at every turn, if you took the time to stop and think, you’d understand that you had no idea what to say or do. From an outside, “objective” viewpoint, there might be a logical answer; maybe even a “right” answer to every situation. But there is never an easy one. And there is never a painless one. And from the inside, there is never even those logical or right ones.

So which is worse? To be in a relationship that creates dysfunction, or to be alone? Logical answer: to be dysfunctional. Reality: to be alone.

Which is worse? To hurt others (indirectly?) through your actions, or to be hurt yourself? Moral answer: to hurt others. Reality: to be hurt.

And what makes this even harder, is that these questions don’t even work, because it’s never as simple as an either/or. It is not this OR that. All options, and all combinations of options, are hurtful. So it ultimately comes down to what you can handle. And as humans, that’s not much. The ability to do the “right” thing is never there. People continue to abuse the absolute blessing of the relationships that they are in. We continue to grasp at FEELING loved as though it were salvation itself, even though it necessitates an overwhelmingly sharp pain. And we never are allowed to understand what truly being loved is like, mainly because all of us are (unconsciously?) overly efficient at stealing it away from one another in the hope of having it ourselves.