A Koan Poem

 Christ is the Only way to God.

This is not a religious statement nor a commentary on any religion.

Let the triggering begin, emotions equal our sacred messengers.

The answer is in the key; Seek and ye shall find.

Let the truth set you free.

Love Is Love?

So the other day reading through Facebook I came across a post by a friend who frequently  criticizes  Christians and mocks, or is expressing frustrated reactions about Christians. 

I find them interesting, and not unique, as even most Christians have criticisms of other Christians. Sometimes I feel like yelling across Facebook so all could hear: "Christians are followers of Christ, not THE Christ himself!!" Alas, it would probably fall upon deaf ears, and maybe that is a good thing. This could be a call to Christians to examine themselves more deeply, more thoroughly. 

Even though some in the world may despise Christians, they still look to and expect them to live up to Christ's teachings, even if they themselves completely reject them. Isn't that interesting? What a fascinating impact Christ has on the world.

This person of whom I speak is a non believer, and any Christian should not be surprised about not only criticism but even hatred or persecution being sent their way for a belief and commitment to Christ's words and teaching. He himself very clearly says this will be the case, and if we believe the other things he says and teaches we are right to believe this also. It was the case in his own time and remains the case today.

Her statement was something to the effect of: "I have a super hard time dealing with Christians that cherry pick the Bible. The Bible teaches you to love thy neighbor and to do unto others as you'd have done unto you. LOVE THY NEIGHBOR. Did Jesus say 'love thy white neighbor'? Nope love thy neighbor, simple right???" Well, maybe that seems simple, and certainly conceptually that is true, but I would argue that in practice, it is quite complex.

Ok, so aside from this very quote being a cherry picking of sorts (Luke 10:27 says: "love thy neighbor as thy self"), to her credit, it is connected with what Jesus says is the first and great commandment —"Love the lord thy God with all your heart, with all your strength and with all thy mind". "On these two commandments hang all the laws and all the prophets" (Matthew 22:40). So if one were to give a hierarchal structure to the Bible, one might rightly place this (the two great commandments) at the pinnacle. 

So it made me curious as to what cherry-picked verse would actually encourage this kind of justification? I may enter into a direct conversation to find out (depending how much time I find in my day), but it occurs to me that most likely the true discussion is not about a verse that would admonish such nonsense (to not love one's black neighbor) but rather, maybe about the question: What is love? The Bible says: "love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." (1 Corinthians 13 v1-8). 

This post was written by the same person who said recently "love is love, not a sin" while advocating for an add affirming gay rights. So I think this is actually an interesting discussion and one that is overlooked and over simplified. Love is indeed Love, but is all sex just sex and created equally? Maybe the question is: because one loves someone does that make engaging in sex right and good? Clearly the answer to that is no. Obviously most people today would concede (though at former times societally accepted and encouraged) that pedophilia is unacceptable, and more so, extremely damaging for the victim. The pedophile may "feel" that he or she loves the child, but clearly that feeling is rooted in a self-seeking desire and not true Love as the Bible would define it. There are also people who fall in love with objects and/or are sexually aroused by objects. Some people I learned recently are sexually stimulated by the idea of cutting off of their own limbs. So then the question clearly goes beyond one's feelings, and one might say even what is good for one's own well being. 

Jesus was without sin, so loved perfectly. We, being sinners, cannot necessarily love perfectly at all times, and probably most times. Oftentimes we love but are loathe to remove our own judgements and restrictions, even boundaries on our love. We love our children completely yet are prone to anger and impatience in that love. We have strong feelings and desires about how they should and should not act, and have a very hard time separating out those desires from a perfect love. So they exist simultaneously side by side, interwoven; a perfect love and our sinful natures weaving in and out of our interactions with those we truly do love so deeply.

Christ had the beautifully admirable ability to Love perfectly and with complete mercy and compassion and advise that which is right and good, to give up one's sins. 

It seems to me we are called to love and love fully as he did, and yet we love our own thoughts and judgements many times more. We skew our ability to Love out of a primary allegiance to our ideas, or aversion to someone else's thoughts and ideas.

Perspective, I believe, can be a helpful tool, allowing the other to have their boundaries and limits. Acknowledging that we too have our boundaries, they may be wider or more narrow, but they exist. These ideas and boundaries need not be translated into a character statement or flaw. 

We will never love our neighbors properly if we must love every one of their thoughts and belief systems (and perhaps actions that extend from them). This might also raise some more points about the earlier passage. What exactly does it mean to love the Lord thy God with all thy soul, heart and mind? How many of us are actually successful at that? And if not at that, then the second, how do we love ourselves properly? How many of us do that? It follows the obvious conclusion that if we are having trouble doing the first two properly, then likely we are going to fail at loving our neighbors properly too.

Thankfully Christ never says we have to be a perfect master of every law. He came to fulfill the law for us, but not to abolish it. I think the most powerful lesson is that we can love someone fully, all the while fully disagreeing with any number of behaviors and choices the other makes. Love them as they are, where they are. I think Christ's demonstration of this is so clear. Just because someone may have a gross or what one might call an outwardly obvious sin that they have not conquered (in one's view) does not necessarily mean that it is any worse of a sin than a dark deep secret sin. Sin is sin, and no ones escapes. However, if one truly embraces God's sovereignty then where that person is, is exactly where that person is meant to be, and it is not your personal responsibly to be the judge and redeemer of that. 

On the other hand it can be a slippery slope. When we love someone, we do genuinely desire their good, true and ultimate good, not just a desire to make someone feel good in the moment. How does one balance these "impulses"? If my child wanted to cut his arm off, clearly I would aim to persuade him otherwise for his own good. So how do we love and accept someone fully and all the while encourage their ultimate good as Christ does? I suppose the answer is in the question, take it to Him in prayer and let the answers be given unto you, for he who seeks shall find. Aim to love in a way that fits the beautiful descriptives in the Bible. Is it kind? Allow the other to think and believe what they will and love them anyway no matter what. 

July in Charleston

Time the elusive king,

At times belabored, each minute holds eternity as the years rush by.

The seasons change and the children grow, as our spirits long for Him.

The great I Am, in the here and now, why are we always seeking the next?

Our nature so stubborn and contrary.

I long to be the bird flying in each moment of ecstasy, 

Reaching the heights of the heaven,

No care in its feathers — free to fall, a child's souvenir.

I yearn and reject simultaneously the complexity of the most evolved... or not?

We waste our youthful energies on the superficial masks,

Upholding the burden of illusion until the weight becomes so heavy our shoulders ache.

We yearn for human touch, yet fleeting it will so soon fall, the vanity of it all.

Why do we waste our breath and crush our spirits? 

The rivers teach us otherwise in their flow so effortless and pure.

The rocks soak up the back-rubs, cooling and caressing without a thought or care.

The hours pass so slowly, how to fill each empty moment? 

We try to feign an interest in these small and minor acts, 

Yet all the while knowing our powerlessness before the Great One.

How to walk with joy and gratitude, when the weight of mere existence presses upon us?

Some days the end seems so inviting, but those we leave behind 

Will then be the ones to carry the loss of what you were called to hold. 

They will long for your container of that which is most high,

The container of the one who resides.

We breathe and continue to sow a path of sorrow, 

Gain strength to carry on, despite the humidity bearing down on our souls, 

Calling to that most deep of slumbers.

We climb the stairs once more, pleasuring in the dull ache of sore muscles and bones, 

Our funny companions so loyal and warm, remind us of life.

We plow, we plot, we think too much and another day is gone.

Lessons from Meditation

The mind is a parrot — squawk, squawk, squawk — repeating what the soul already knows.

Echoes of nonsense, always having to comment on this and on that,

Reveling in its own brilliance, trusting in the subtleties unfurled.

I knew that long ago, says the Truth, veiled deep below.

So hush little bird, you have said too much already,

Repeating and repeating as if somehow that completes the tasks undone.

Rest now in the depth of the true wisdom of old.

I know you, you know me, before time began,

Eternal, everlasting, unchanging within.

Hush little parrot, just sing a pretty song.

To Change or Not to Change?

I had a thought the other day, is being resistant to change anti God?

Change is inevitable, change is in itself a constant, something we know to be true. God works his miracles, often imperceptible to our busy minds and lives. Although we don't see the stem of grass as it grows, the lawn mowers of the world will attest to the extremely rapid speed with which it happens. Yet, He himself is unchanging, a true objective reality, a firm foundation. He is vibrant, pulsating Love.... the great creator, animating all of creation to the heartbeat of perfection. Christ himself shows us the broadness of the life-animating spirit when he debunks the pharisees' dogma by healing on the sabbath day. The law is good only so far as the context is also taken into consideration. The law stagnant and still does not have the life breath of our savior animating the moment to the truth that is needed.

So how does one balance timeless truths with constant change? I think maybe there are two components. One of yoga's philosophies is practice and non-attachment. We come to the mat daily to nourish our physical bodies, to prepare for meditation. When the body is strong and flexible we can sit in stillness longer and address the mind (Be still and know that I am God).

Going into deep prayer and meditation free from being distracted by the body the mind can focus more freely. We go to God, in stillness and silence, offer up our prayers and then.... let go and know that God's sovereign plan will ultimately be done.  So we ask, but then we let go, we have spoken and the rest is up to him. 

I guess some of these thoughts came to mind also due to a recent conversation. I was speaking with a lovely elderly gentleman after church. He seemed dismayed by the thought of statues being taken down. These statues were constructed for mothers who had lost their sons in battle. As he explained, it was a way to honor their sorrow and be a physical representation in the world of that loss. Others have expressed sorrow for the loss of the artwork or the beauty of a monument. So the intention of these monuments have something laudable. Yet for others these statues represent something very different, very painful. A time when their status as a beloved child of God, made in his image was not recognized. When the story of the age said you are less than, worthless, a mere possession. How do we balance these coexisting truths?

I personally have never been someone overly attached to material things. Often too much excess makes me feel weighed down, but at the end of the day, these attachments are really less about the material plane. The true attachment rests in the mind and the idea of what is represented. 

Maybe in this time of great change for the whole world, struggling to balance in an unbalanced chaotic state of unknowns, God is calling us to allow his life-animating spirit to mix things up. To see just where we are gripping to our own ideas and rejecting his push to let go and let him. Maybe these tugs at our senses or heartstrings are reminders to not rest in our own understanding but in his infinite love, knowledge and wisdom. Can we hold our own understandings and preferences a little more lightly and create room for something outside of that to enter in? Flowing rivers are clean and healthy, unlike a stagnant pool, bacteria laden with the potential for great sickness. 

When one grips too tightly to something that must change, chaos ensues. Last weeks events were a testament to that. It is easier to hold and to force than to allow. The illusion of control can be so powerful, so gripping and strong. Allowing makes one vulnerable, allowing treads in the unsteady waters of the unknown, and yet that is where the most beautiful possibilities lie. The realm of the all-possible is just beyond our reach, so perhaps if we stop grasping, what will be brought forth to us will be far greater than our wildest dreams.

A Poem for Now

Blood sacrifices on the Capitol, bow down to the God of fear and hate.

Oh Prince of peace, my heart cries out to thee.

Rise we up in our own righteousness!

But none is righteous only thee.

Blood sacrifices in the cities, shattered glass in the streets, 

Active flames of pain for words not heard, actions speak louder.

But he said no more sacrifices were needed, not even the smallest ant need lose his little life?

When comest the dawn of the new day, when the lion lays down with the lamb?

No, No, No, we must fight fight, fight! 

Hate war, Hate war, march on, march on. 

Rage war, Rage war, lift those knees higher, march on, march on.

Peace Peace Peace, Ohm shanti, shanti, shanti-heeeeeeee

Where are you now my Prince of peace? When will our hearts turn once and for all?

The little girl is skipping alongside her mother, as she ponders....

"Remember when human beings used kill other human beings?" Curls bouncing as she goes.

"Oh little bear, don't think on such things."

"Ok mamma, its just so weird, people must have been very strange back then."

A Moment of Winter

 Waves crashing on the sand

Whitecaps their winter wear.

Dogs running, barking, affirming existence.

Sun sparkles on the sand

The same as the twinkle in your eye.

Children squeal — vestiges of joy

Fading into the air.

Time passes unobserved

Days shorter, nights long.

Bears slumber dreaming of honeypots spring will bring.

The wheel turns, chance, fortune, and destiny

Shuffled mysteriously.

The wondrous potions of life's elixir

Sustaining each moment, each breath

Until the last exhale

When the night sky beckons

To the abyss of the unknown.

Covid Thoughts: A Journey Through Time and Chance to Hope and Meaning

Here I am, God. It is a Sunday afternoon and church is canceled.....again. Not because of rain or cold, but rather new, tighter Covid restrictions. How much we have enjoyed recently being back at St. Matthew’s outdoor services. We have  profited from receiving Christ’s body and blood (in word) and sacrament. The holy blessing of Father Steve’s most comforting and empathetic tone. We are united as a family in our home church – yet another strange and bizarre circuitous blessing  of Covid 19- 2020!!

St. Matthew’s was our first church in Richmond and we spent about 5 years there and both of our boys attended their preschool. Then due to various reasons, I ended up having some nice singing opportunities at a downtown church, and Calvin was asked to accompany for a startup church in a retirement community in Midlothian. We decided at the time that these were important opportunities that we both felt called to try. 

So for the past 6 years Sunday mornings were very hectic. Calvin would get up early and go to his church in Midlothian to accompany the service. I had the luxury of waking up a little later, but the burden of getting two children ready and out of the house to make it in time for choir rehearsal downtown before the service. Calvin would finish his church and rush over to my church so we could take communion together. Then we would gather ourselves in two cars and head home for brunch. 

Then came Covid — no more choir and no more church in Midlothian in the retirement community. Next, through the mother of one of Soren’s preschool friends, I was invited to join St. Matthew’s women’s book club. It was something to look forward to each week. It was also joyful to reconnect with some of my St. Matthew’s friends. We had heard for a while how wonderful the new rector was and were curious to attend one of his sermons. Then it seems as fate would have it, the opportunity to go back to St. Matthew’s became apparent. Calvin admitted he had grown weary of our Sunday morning routine and for a while had wished there were a way we could go to church together again as a family, and so it is that Covid answered that prayer for him.

I have wanted to write for so long, yet it  seems I had a writer’s block of sorts. Practical excuses are easy to come by, but when there is a will, there is a way. Wiser, sadder, humbled, more patient, less stressed? A few of many more descriptives for me personally on my Covid mountain, valley, and forest. A friend once spoke to me about her “journey” and said a phrase that really struck me. “It was as though I had to become and confront my worst self in order to become better than previously”, she said. This thought and understanding really takes on a whole new meaning in Covid. I know I personally felt this at times and I think others too have had this experience. In the beginning a wave of confusion and disbelief, followed by some attempt at normalcy amid the abnormal. The great descent, giving up, becoming our “not-so-great versions of ourselves”, then reorganizing one step at a time.Trying and trying again. 

I don’t exactly know where to start after such a long writing pause, but I suppose the right here, right now is a good place. I have hope with a new politics (hopefully less contentious) and a vaccine, that perhaps things will take shape in a way that in general people may feel a little safer and less threatened.

This AM Calvin and I listened to Tim Keller giving a talk on Hope. We also read Ecclesiastes 9 together. So much to penetrate and think upon. At first reading one might not find this passage particularly uplifting or hopeful. Verse 2 ‘It is the same for all since the same events happen to the righteous and the wicked, to the good and the evil, to the clean and the unclean, to him who sacrifices and him who does not sacrifice. As the good one is, so is the sinner, and he who swears is as he who shuns an oath.’

One might read and think, why make the effort? But I believe if one digs into this passage there is a freedom to be found. It can be tricky and admittedly takes a little mental massaging to balance the vanity of existence, its passing nature, with a motivation to do and be our best. I know I personally have struggled with this dual nature of existence. My experience is that if one can get past the focus of the long term vanity and ultimate fading of the material, including our own physical bodies, and really rest in a sovereign plan that God has laid forth, then there is indeed something freeing. We can be our best, or our worst self, and still the perfection is among us. Grace is available when we gain the strength to try and try again. We can let go of the burden of controlling the outcome and simply be in the present moment with grace and gratitude.

Verse 7, ‘Go eat your bread with joy and drink your wine with a merry heart, for God has already approved what you do.’ Or verse 9, ‘Enjoy life with the wife whom you love, all the days of your vain life that he has given you under the sun, because that is your portion in life and in your toil at which you toil under the sun.’ It seems the directive is something like, do your best, be your best, but ultimately it matters not, so do so with a light hand. Forgive yourself as he forgives you, nourish and immerse yourself in the moments of joy, but don’t try to hold on, for they will pass. Feel the pain of the failure or the loss, but then let it pass. His plan is laid, and you are being led to be doing and experiencing exactly what you are in each moment, beyond that is not in your hands. It is a little scary and requires some faith and trust, but ultimately there is a hidden gem in the balance of being and doing with a light hand, allowing the past to be the past, the future to be the future and the moment to be supreme. 

The final line of this passage is quite striking. Verse 18, ‘Wisdom is better than weapons of war, but one sinner destroys much good.’ I understand this to emphasize the matter of personal responsibility. Maybe it is something like this: it matters — and it matters a lot — but at the same time it matters not in a way that will disturb the “whole”. It is as if the whole is always intact no matter what. There I believe is the Hope.

So life continues. The day to day is filled with blessing and yes hope.

The beauty of His creation here in Richmond has been so uplifting. Sunsets, clouds, fall to winter trees. A brief morning snow dust with cardinals on branches looking like Christmas cards, and today. Today, I write! Today is a strange spring-like day. The birds are extraordinary. A flock of black birds swarmed away together towards the sky. A small brown bird I nicknamed Chubbysits on the deck. Two cardinals drink from our fountain.

We originally planned to kayak today, but instead have been invited to Soren’s Godparents’ home, our good friends, the Witmers. We met them at  St. Matthews and have been friends now in Richmond for over 11 years! Wow, time really does go by quickly and children change so much. I want to remember these little gems of joy amidst the chaos, to fuel the fire of hope with each of these kindling moments. The humor... like Soren singing joyfully at the top of his lungs, his improvisational “I love my penis song”! Only that kid! He was in the bathroom so I let him sing on. What about the moment in church a few weeks back when Soren said of the communion wafer, “this makes your heart heal a little”. Truly wisdom from the mouth of babes.

There is a continued yearning for the community worship outdoors at St. Matthews on Sunday mornings  The need for repentance, being fulfilled, such burdens lifted which felt especially weighty  during this time. What was so powerful about public worship? Was it also a return to some that have been church family for years? Certainly that plays a part, makes things more comfortable, and it is a joy to reconnect to longtime brothers and sisters in Christ. There are news things too, like this connection to Father Steve and appreciation for his preaching and doing book club with his wife Angie. 

One of  Pierson’s most favorite activities right now is youth group with Steve and Angie’s children who are a part, not to mention Julia. Julia met Pierson when he was just a baby and really befriended him. She used to offer to hold him. Even when I went downtown to Grace and Holy Trinity Church to sing, Julia ended up being there too as she was then living on VCU campus. However, with Covid and costs of living she once again lives at home and is back at St Matthews, and now heads up the youth group from which she graduated three or so years ago. She spoke briefly on the first day and shared her fond memories as well as the Christian beliefs and traditions she wants to both share and carry on. So far this year they have made sleeping mats (out of  plastic bags) and toiletry bags for the homeless, collected canned goods, and done leaf raking. On Wednesday evening they do a zoom compline service together. They have fun and fellowship, and they know Christ personally in their hearts. Pierson is one of the younger ones. I believe one aspect he loves is the feeling of independence. He often laments childhood for its lack of independence and emotional freedom of choice. Well... not easy to philosophically explain, but some things, e.g., going to school seven hours a day, is actually not a personal insult and punishment, although it may feel that way, rather what generational wisdom tells us is best.

Maybe that is also what hope is about, trusting in timeless wisdom. Not perhaps knowing in the intellectual mind the exact reasons for why worship in community is so powerful, but realizing without a doubt that it is. We leave with our spirits uplifted and our minds a little lighter than when we arrived. Hope is the wind filling out our sails to onward shores, perhaps unknown, but guided nonetheless.

 

Global Pandemic: God’s Punishment or Gift of Grace?

So apparently we are living in a global pandemic. It sounds so odd....a few short months ago this thought was so foreign. I think I would have Googled it to see exactly what that means and how to define it. And here we are. This strange idea is our current reality. When the news first began to break in a more public way, and then very quickly spiraled into total shut down, life felt surreal — a creepy twilight zone reality, a bizarre dream that one thinks: “Surely at any moment I will wake up, sigh a sigh of relief and then go back to normal life.” 

The routines of the day are gone. No more waking up at 7:00, having a mere half hour to get P to the bus stop dressed and fed. I have one more hour and fifteen minutes to get Soren dressed and fed. That may sound like a lot, but when you have a four year old fashionista, getting dressed takes at least 45 minutes. Luckily breakfast for Soren is an easy task — just add chocolate and all is well with the world. Can you blame him? 

Depending on the day, Monday AM's I teach my Yoga class, other days of the week and depending on the weather, either a run in the park, or some sort of class at the gym. I need to be back at preschool by noon, unless it's Tuesday — then I have till 1:30, and usually I have the pleasure of meeting Calvin for lunch at Capital One, which has a wonderful campus with food choices that are amazing. Any type of food you crave, they have got it — three huge cafeterias, hot, cold, any ethnic choice, special restaurants and food services that bring in the latest trends, sushi, juice bar. Even for coffee you can go to Starbucks or you can go to Petes, there is an on campus bakery with croissants "comme Paris", or if you prefer the ice cream parlor next door — just choose your fancy. 

After picking up Soren, I get him home for lunch, he usually asks for a little iPad, then I have approximately two hours to do my thing. That could be to get my meditation in, if there had not been time in the morning. Maybe practice singing, clean house, work on some aspect or another of COR. Sometimes those two hours are greatly reduced, particularly if Soren decides he is bored with iPad, has his own project in mind, needs help with something, or just plain wants Mommy's attention no matter what!! 

Pierson comes home and I help him get a snack. Depending on the day I might urge him to start his homework, he may play outside a bit, watch some iPad, but whatever the day, we are on the

clock. Mondays and Wednesdays we leave by four for rock climbing and other nights are Tae Kwon do for both boys. Saturdays are generally "free" though often filled with grocery shopping, birthday parties, or any other activity that falls, and Sunday's is church. Calvin leaves early for his church service for which he accompanies on piano and organ. I need to get myself and the two boys out of the house to get to choir by 10:30, then Calvin meets me at my church in time to take communion together. We go home, have brunch, maybe go to a concert, or park. Sunday nights are pizza and salad night (too tired for anything else and also a long standing "Marshall" tradition). Then we start over — it's a new week, and time is projecting forward at rocket speed. That was more or less our schedule for life during the school year. 

Then this year March came, and over the course of a weekend from the 13-16th, everything began to change. By Monday night everything shut down and was cancelled. I still taught my yoga Monday the 16th, but that was the last scheduled event — no school, no yoga, no gym, no rock climbing, no Tae Kwon Do, no lunches at Capital One. Time as we know it is no longer the same. It feels as though the very fabric of reality has shifted. We have stepped one pace closer to the “whole” where the timespace phenomenon no longer exists. Whoa, this stuff is real!! It was awkward at first. I felt gawky in the new normal. A sea of time with life to do, but no structure to work around. No projects to prepare for, save one request from church for a video of Mozart's Alleluia for their virtual online Easter service. My mom decided to come stay with us for a while, and she arrived on Thursday. 

Here we are April 24th and I have to say, although I passed through the initial shock and disbelief, into the "ok, here we go" with the new normal — figuring out homeschool, finding new routines, feeling sorrow for the many losses of life, and concern for those with much worse and exceedingly more difficult situations than my own — I now find myself in a place of peace and even joy. I am enjoying the more leisurely approach to life. For years Calvin and I have had the ongoing conversation about needing to find ways to be less busy. However, despite our best efforts, we always seem to end up with plates that are very full. I feel blessed to have this special time to share with my mother, and feel so much gratitude for her presence and her help with the boys. I am enjoying the extra time with my boys, and seeing the sparkle of joy in Pierson's eyes that school seems to rob each time we return from our summer vacations. I am confident he is actually learning more. I know this is the last year before Soren starts kindergarten, and I am relishing the last glimpses of his sweet babyness that will surely slip away unnoticed until I glance up and say, “When did you become so grown up?”

I enjoy having Calvin here all day, so we can have many lunches, and witnessing the beautiful impromptu moments he might have to engage with the boys, throwing the football, a bike ride, karate wrestling, or family neighborhood walks with Flocon. I have more time for gratitude, and just being and it is nice. Of course there are still moments of tension and discord. Rebellion in not wanting to go to bed, or do school work at a given time. Moments of boredom for boys with too much energy on a rainy day, and the usual sibling rivalries. One of these moments came the other day. Soren had taken out a letter that I had put in the mailbox to be sent, and he brought it back inside thinking he was helping to get the mail. I was heading into the bathroom and Pierson was kicking his feet, moseying around, not wanting to do his reading, but not doing anything else. I said, "go put this letter in the mailbox". His response was, "Why should I, I did not take it out". Immediately my button was pushed. It is an ongoing issue with me and P. Trying to teach him respect. Respect to his parents, but also in general, a willingness in his heart to sometimes, most times just say, “yes, or sure mom”. But he is a righteous fighter, proud and strong! 

It is not that P is unwilling to help. He is and does.... at times — sometimes with great care for the task at hand, but it needs to come from him. He does not like to be told what to do, particularly if he thinks it is unfair and even more so when it comes to his brother. I have explained to him time and again, how I do all kinds of things I don't necessarily feel like doing because that is what needs to be done. I don't always feel like grocery shopping or cleaning the house, or doing laundry, but I do it anyway. I remind him of the innumerable tasks I might do for him and his brother, even though I was not the cause of those things needing to be done. I even tell him that life is not fair. I personally do not like conflict and try to avoid it. P, I believe, seeks conflict, something to push back on, a way to feel and define his own presence. I try to diffuse and he fans the flame. So there we were, a battle of the wills, a this-is-the-right-thing-to-do conversation and his take being this is unfair. In his mind Soren gets away with everything, has less asked of him and life is unfair. I explain to him that what is expected of a four year old is different than that of a ten year old, and that in time Soren too will have more schoolwork, more demanded of him etc. 

And then it came — P's statement: ''He needs to be punished". Immediately the words rolled off my tongue before much thought and I said: "We all deserve to be punished, and yet we choose to act in love and mercy". Somehow saying this phrase out loud in that moment really struck me. Sometimes we hold to beliefs or understandings but when we voice them something changes. P is not alone in his feeling that people deserve to be punished. Just recently my friend on FB wrote something to the effect of, "Love is Love” (this was in regard to her vote for Pete Buttigeig), “I will never understand people who do not love and accept someone because of their sexual orientation". This is someone I have seen in many posts insinuate or outright say angry or hateful comments in regards to those with whom she disagrees. So I responded on her posts—  "Are those people lovable and acceptable? That is the key to understanding." She did not respond to that post, but immediately did respond to another post that was on her feed, where I had also commented. Someone made a comment about close minded people being good at criticizing, she gave that a like and I had responded, “hmmm, sounds like a criticism." So she responded to that remark: "close minded people deserve to be criticized". There you have it — what she is also saying is these people deserve to be punished. 

So there we were with this truth from my ten year old, same truth from my 50 something friend, a sense of righteous judgement that "the other" deserves punishment. But then comes our savior who is so filled with mercy, love and compassion. He is perfect without sin, the One truly NOT worthy of punishment and he does not punish us, but rather Loves us and is merciful. He tells us, “Go, and sin no more” (John 8:11). Who and what is this One, that we punish and hate and kill? He shows us that we are to love and serve. The One who is perfect in all ways, the Lord of Lords, the King of Kings, the Prince of Peace, who yet abases himself to that of a servant and washes his disciples feet (John 13:4 ff). Such beauty, such wonder. 

The "other" is always our mirror — that which perhaps is still hidden to our own eyes, or ears. That aspect of our being that has not been pulled up from its root, maybe just had its leaves trimmed. Things look pretty on the outside, but when we dig deep, when our eyes are opened and our ears can hear, then we might see clearly. Then we might weep in sorrow or humility and God's perfect grace can enter in and truly wash in us with his blood. Then we will sorrow no more. We can without pride or righteousness but in true longing to love Him more fully, say "forgive them Father for they know not" (Luke 23:34). We may all be worthy of punishment, but Christ gives us a new message, a new truth. We have been made whole and perfect in Him. Because we have been forgiven, we forgive the other which is not actually the other but is the One, in Christ. We can love freely because we are loved freely. He is the Savior of this world. This is the peace that passeth understanding (Philippians 4:7). Illogical, incomprehensible and yet available to us all.

The Dawn Wall

So it took awhile....

Sometimes that's the way it is. It took awhile to find something that Pierson could latch onto and call his own. I tried many things — gymnastics, Taekwondo, art lessons, choir, swimming. I knew Pierson had a boundless energy that craved a channel. I also knew my sanity was dependent upon finding that thing. Turns out that thing is climbing. He has since gone back to Taekwondo and recently is really into his art work, and all that is super cool. It took a while to understand why there were certain areas that seemed so hard. I used to dread sitting down for daily reading, and homework. The struggle was real, the frustration was shared, and the fights were often. I always felt that P was ADD or ADHD, but it was not until a trip to his doctor's office where this came up that I really began to try to understand. I remember talking to a fellow actor who specialized in this area and telling him how Pierson would sometimes stand up during dinner, maybe ten times and not even realize he was standing. I told him about our struggles with reading, how he was always jumping ahead a word or more and losing his place. Or his rather endearing way of running up to me with a brilliant idea only to tell me he forgot what he was going to say. He told me P sounded like a classic case. I wondered why none of his teachers brought this up, and when I asked his doctor about this point, he said it was probably because he was intelligent enough to realize he was different, so he expends an enormous amount of energy trying to compensate, hence his high stress levels, and tantrum releases that would challenge even the most toddler of toddlers. 

As I read books and articles so much made sense. P was not just being disrespectful and not listening, he literally was unable. There was a reason for five years we have told him to not chew with his mouth open, and it was ok. I began to process things in a new way. Instead of feeling that I was failing as a parent and feeling helpless, I felt empowered. His brain literally works differently, and the more I understand those differences the more I am able to love him more fully. Yet another thing I learn from P. P also brought me to The Dawn Wall, a movie about climbing. To be honest I was not thrilled about the idea of watching a movie about climbing, but like much of life, since I love P, and he loves climbing it becomes important. In these small moves outside of ourselves somehow we end up with gifts so much greater than we can possibly imagine. My brother recommended the movie. So I sat down to the film with minimal to low expectations. Boy was I blown away. Not only from a purely entertainment perspective was it thrilling, but for me it was literally a spiritual gift. A little kiss from heaven imparted through the blessed relation with my P.

Tommy Caldwell is the climber in this documentary that the film is formed around. It is his story, his life, his journey, which ends with what most would consider miraculous — his ascent of The Dawn Wall. Tommy Caldwell for me is a living embodiment of such biblical ideas of "the last becoming first" (Matt. 20:16), or of "the meek inheriting the earth” (Matt. 5:5). This was a child who was so developmentally delayed, that he was literally deemed retarded and did not even crawl until two years of age. His dad, perhaps a bit "old school", saw his weak young child and in his deepest love and devotion "allowed him to suffer". In today's world of coddling and child-led ways, this may be frowned upon, but it seems in it there is something good and right.

The Buddists begin by saying "life is suffering", and psychologist Jordan Peterson often talks about the importance of making our children capable and independent. It seems there is a delicate balance here. The damage of overprotection is real and can create life long dysfunction. On the other hand we of course do not want to be unnecessarily cruel, hardened, or cause unnecessary pain. I often wonder about the new child led dogma — spanking is out, time outs are in. It seems a little physical pain on the bottom passes very quickly and teaches a fast physical boundary, while separating someone emotionally, sending the message that because of bad behavior they are not worthy of human connection or love is in some ways much harsher. It seems to me psychological wounds take much longer to heal and sometimes even feel near impossible to heal. All that to say — Tommy Caldwell's father pushed him at a young age with physical challenges. They would go hiking, climbing and camping. His father spent time with him, gave his energy, and helped form his physical body and his spirit to survive in the world. 

At a young age Tommy began winning competitions and eventually accomplishing feat after feat. To add to the tale, as an adult Tommy actually becomes physically handicapped and is told he is done for. Even after that Tommy refuses the lies of the world. He knows a truth that exists that is larger than that. A faith that says "all things are possible" (Matt. 19:26). Eventually he has accomplished just about all he can (surpassing all expectation) and decides to climb The Dawn Wall. Everyone again tells him it is impossible. He gets a partner, and for 6 years they endeavor on this project against all odds. Eventually the moment of truth comes, Tommy is succeeding in the impossible and his partner is stumbling. His partner agrees to just give up and guide Tommy to the top. Tommy reaches a point in the wall which is symbolic of the hardest parts conquered and the road to the top open. Tommy sits on this plateau, not in joy, but rather in sorrow, for if he can not bring his fellow man up with him all the glory is worthless. He goes back down, committed to bringing his partner with him at all costs. 

I love this story and this movie for all that Tommy Caldwell shows us in his being. He knew with every ounce and fiber that the transcendent was possible, was there just beyond an immediate grasp. It's as if he could taste it, smell it, and knew that his faith and persistence would get him there. He literally conquers physical reality and at the same time his deep and enduring humanity does not diminish with this, but rather embraces the deepest love and value for the other. Thank you Tommy Caldwell and Thank you P, for being you, for bringing me gifts unimaginable.