There’s a lot of words my wife, my family, and my friends might use to describe me, but emotional is not high on the list. They’re there, emotions. Somewhere inside of me. Every now and then a movie will pull the tears out (Glory, 7 Pounds, Patch Adams, ET). But in general I find emotional satisfaction by living vicariously through music and the psalms. Being that I have a special place in my heart for emotional rides in music, I hang onto albums from the turn-of-the-century whiney Emo run, as well as the emotional up-and-let-it-out songs like Radiohead’s Creep or DMB’s Bartender. But when I really want to experience emotion in its realist, rawest form, I go to the Psalms.
I love reading and experiencing David’s heart. He never hesitated to tell God how he really felt. And yet he seemed so balanced. “How long O Lord will you forget me?” is followed not too distantly by “But I have trusted in Your lovingkindness” (Psalm 13). Something about it all feels right. Much more so than actual life. Much much more so than what I typically hear coming from the world of Christianity (question God? accuse God? nooo). When I feel a little twinge of emotion, I search for it in the Psalms to see what it really feels like. To discover passion and honesty and to try myself to communicate that to God.
Lately I’ve been thinking about loneliness. For a couple reasons. I started out musing not just on loneliness, but utter despair, pain, and losing the will to live. Walking to a movie in Paris late one night with my wife, snow blowing around overhead, I saw someone laying down on a concrete step in a doorway, a blanket of roughly stitched together bags doing little to deter the frigid cold. I was taken aback, finally hit with a deeper reality of homelessness, especially in a cold place. Survive a winter? In that place, I don’t think I’d have much interest in even trying. I suddenly felt overwhelmingly judgmental for ever turning away from a drunk street person. If I was bitterly cold and faced with the proposition of cuddling up to a brick wall while winds whipped by and snow and sleet fell for the night, would I be any different? If a drink made it go away, replacing the ice-cold pain and despair with warm delirium, would I find any point in sobriety?
Back to my life of comfort (doesn’t seem that my problems are so bad when put in that perspective)... loneliness. We’d heard before of Christians in Western Europe feeling estranged and alone. We get it. It’s weird: being in the most populated place I’ve ever lived, neighbors on top of and all around us, we feel more alone than ever before. We’ve found community here with some friends, and we know we’re only getting started, but in the midst of the masses, we feel alone. Turns out David experienced the same emotion, probably exponentially more.
In Psalm 142 he cries aloud, pours out complaints, and declares his troubles to the Lord. He says,
“Look to the right and see;
For there is no one who regards me;
There is no escape for me;
No one cares for my soul.”
Sounds pretty lonely, no? Now here’s the interesting part. This psalm was written by David, in a cave. So says the manuscript. There’s only 2 mentions in the Bible of David in a cave that I know of: 1 Samuel 22 and 24. 1 Samuel 22:2 says, “...now there were about 400 men with him.” Two chapters later it appears to be a similar situation. Surrounded by 400 others, in a cave, and David felt so totally alone that he wrote this? Pretty amazing concept. And yet I get it. Unlike David, I don’t have anyone chasing after and trying to kill me, but I am surrounded and yet alone.
And it’s Christmastime. Time to be with family and celebrate the Birth of Christ. Sadly we don’t have family here, so we’re trying to figure out a way to make the holiday we always associate with family special. We know God will provide.
A simple suggestion, especially to our friends in the States... could there be some people around you in your everyday life that are in the midst of a crowd and yet totally alone? Is there someone you could invite over for a gathering, a meal, a party, a week away from school? Make the day of your single friend, an international student far from home, or some empty-nesters who’s kids are half a world away. Invite them in for even the simplest of festivities. Loneliness is no fun, and yet it’s a plight with a simple remedy.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Ready already?
It has been an absolute joy for us as parents to watch our little boy grow in his desire to help. No longer is he an eating, pooping, and sleeping machine. He’s growing out of the run in circles and scream, throwing objects and giggling phase. Wait no, he’s firmly in that one... but that’s no longer ALL he does. Instead, he loooooves to help. His first actual chore was unloading the dishwasher. One at a time he’d pull utensils out and hand them to me to depose in the correct place in the drawer. Now he feels it necessary to get everything, and thus I must keep up on the receiving end, or the glass/plate/bowl in his hand will inevitably crash to the ground. No breaks yet, but I know the day is coming.
Later he learned to put toys away, which is fantastic. Mommy says this is because Daddy’s obsessed and puts them away moments after Sawyer moves onto the next thing. He watched, he imitated, he now (sometimes) puts his own toys away. I say it worked.
One of our favorite things to do together is make pizza. Sawyer likes to spread the toppings. Of course always one at a time and it would take him about 2 hours to dress one pizza, but it’s fun to do together. Now anytime we cook he feels he must pull his stool up and do something at counter height with spoons and ingredients.
Just like God doesn’t need us to do His work in the world, to carry His gospel around, to love and protect and help when He could easily do it himself, He sure loves to see us trying with an honest and earnest heart. We too love Sawyer’s heart and interest in helping.
Lately Sawyer’s helping has become more independent. We often find him in the bathroom brushing his teeth (err, getting the brush wet and putting it in his mouth). We’ve walked in the kitchen to see him standing over a sink full of dishes, dousing them in dish soap and trying to reach the faucet. He refuses our help with his socks, insisting he can dress himself (he can’t). When we leave or arrive, he runs to the light switches to illuminate or darken the room. If he spills anything - baby powder, rice, couscous - a pan and brush or mop is never far behind.
Yesterday when he walked into the kitchen at lunchtime, casually opened the fridge and grabbed a bowl of applesauce, then walked to the table, sat it down, climbed into his high chair and began eating, realization struck. He must be trying to prove to us that he’s ready for his own apartment. I know they say that kids grow up fast, but even in the modern day, an apartment at 2 seems a bit premature.
Later he learned to put toys away, which is fantastic. Mommy says this is because Daddy’s obsessed and puts them away moments after Sawyer moves onto the next thing. He watched, he imitated, he now (sometimes) puts his own toys away. I say it worked.
One of our favorite things to do together is make pizza. Sawyer likes to spread the toppings. Of course always one at a time and it would take him about 2 hours to dress one pizza, but it’s fun to do together. Now anytime we cook he feels he must pull his stool up and do something at counter height with spoons and ingredients.
Just like God doesn’t need us to do His work in the world, to carry His gospel around, to love and protect and help when He could easily do it himself, He sure loves to see us trying with an honest and earnest heart. We too love Sawyer’s heart and interest in helping.
Lately Sawyer’s helping has become more independent. We often find him in the bathroom brushing his teeth (err, getting the brush wet and putting it in his mouth). We’ve walked in the kitchen to see him standing over a sink full of dishes, dousing them in dish soap and trying to reach the faucet. He refuses our help with his socks, insisting he can dress himself (he can’t). When we leave or arrive, he runs to the light switches to illuminate or darken the room. If he spills anything - baby powder, rice, couscous - a pan and brush or mop is never far behind.
Yesterday when he walked into the kitchen at lunchtime, casually opened the fridge and grabbed a bowl of applesauce, then walked to the table, sat it down, climbed into his high chair and began eating, realization struck. He must be trying to prove to us that he’s ready for his own apartment. I know they say that kids grow up fast, but even in the modern day, an apartment at 2 seems a bit premature.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Ready to be a Big Brother?
Lately we've had the enormous blessing of having other babies in our home. Between a visit from friends and a babysitting job, Sawyer's had the chance to interact with some younger ones in the comfort of our own home. And he has absolutely loved it!! As have we. He becomes a whole different person when babies are around. No, that's not true... He just shows that much more his gentle, caring, teaching, and protecting traits. He loves to baby the babies. To sit by them and hold hands, pat heads, or help pick up dropped toys. We still have to teach him that he's a little too big to plop down and lay on top of the babies, but the desire in his eyes to impart what he's learned to the younger being is amazing to watch. Of course as pregnant parents, we couldn't be happier and can't wait for his own baby brother/sister to arrive!
Here's a shot from our french Thanksgiving: Sawyer pigging out on bread.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
January through November
There’s a song I remember from my childhood called Sunday Best, or something like that. It was sung by one of those cutesy Christian couples that toured churches singing to tracks and selling CDs. It was a song with a good heart, an annoyingly catching tune, and a message that I’ve always thought a bit off base. The crux of the song is in the chorus: “Monday through Saturday I can’t take a rest from putting on my Sunday best.” The idea that everyday of the week we (meaning American Christians) should be just as nice, smiley, clean, etc as on Churched Sunday. Yeah, I don’t want to get into that... but this song popped into my head today as a petite metaphor of something bigger, and I believe legitimate.
It’s Christmastime! Noël! The season of... what? Giving? Yes, giving! Have you ever had that strange Christmas sensation come over you where sometime in December you just want to do a little something out of the ordinary and give a little extra? In a sudden moment of Christmas warmth you’re inspired to dig deep in your pockets or go out in the cold to give a helping hand. Maybe to the Salvation Army Santa Clause ringing the bell, maybe to the orphanage you know of in town, perhaps to your church, or to a friend that you want to really surprise this year. Have you experienced this? This desire to give, not out of guilt, and not to get anything back? Have you then done it? How does it make you feel? Good? Good. Good!
We have Pizza Hut here in Paris, which I’m pretty fond of. So we ordered some pizza. But when I went to pick it up, a mistake had been made and the wrong pizza prepared. The manager righted it for us and cooked up our usual pan supreme, and then sent me home with a free extra. Our little family of 3 clearly didn’t need the additional pizza, so I hopped in my car with it and went in search of a beggar, a person or family in need. I found a Roma mother and her small daughter, freezing and sitting outside by a wall. I offered them the pizza, and in that moment I felt wonderful, seeing their eyes light up and the joy at opening the box and finding a whole fresh pizza. They ate a piece each and then stored away the rest, perhaps for later, perhaps for other family members. But when I got back in my car, I felt horrible. I hadn’t given anything of myself. Not a bit. That was an extra pizza that I didn’t even pay for and truth be told didn’t like (had bacon and sour cream on it). So what had I given? My scraps. That’s it. Kind of pathetic really.
Living in France has helped us to become much less wasteful. It’s natural, and sort of expected in society. I can no longer take a plastic grocery bag away from a store without feeling a little grossed out by it (in part because it costs a nickel, in part because it’s killing the environment, mostly because it’s just wasteful). Much less is consumed and wasted here than my former life in the States. I actually look back on our burning trash in Africa and think we wasted a lot there too. I’m really glad that our lifestyles have changed to the point that it’s natural to reuse, recycle, and give away what’s excess.
Think about how much good we could do the world if we were intentional about putting our excess to good use. You know that silly phrase moms use to get their kids to eat vegetables by saying that there’s starving children in Africa? Well I’ve lived there, and it’s true. But you can’t box up your green beans and ship them to “starving kid in Africa.” You know what you can do? Pull together all the leftovers, mix them into a casserole with some cheese or something (not the cook in the family...), put it in a box and go find a family in need. I’m willing to bet there’s more than one within a couple miles of your house. But don’t confuse it: that’s not giving. That should simply be normal. Everyday. Expected.
I want to get to the point that giving, actually giving of myself is easy, natural, and a lifestyle. Giving of my excess is a nice step. One that will help the world, but maybe not change it. Instead of (or rather in addition to) passing on my scraps of pizza, how about finding that same family and asking what they’d like on their pizza? Then order it, pay for it, and hand-deliver it. That’s a bit more like giving. And I don’t want it to be seasonal. I want it to be January through December. Every month, every year.
It’s Christmastime! Noël! The season of... what? Giving? Yes, giving! Have you ever had that strange Christmas sensation come over you where sometime in December you just want to do a little something out of the ordinary and give a little extra? In a sudden moment of Christmas warmth you’re inspired to dig deep in your pockets or go out in the cold to give a helping hand. Maybe to the Salvation Army Santa Clause ringing the bell, maybe to the orphanage you know of in town, perhaps to your church, or to a friend that you want to really surprise this year. Have you experienced this? This desire to give, not out of guilt, and not to get anything back? Have you then done it? How does it make you feel? Good? Good. Good!
We have Pizza Hut here in Paris, which I’m pretty fond of. So we ordered some pizza. But when I went to pick it up, a mistake had been made and the wrong pizza prepared. The manager righted it for us and cooked up our usual pan supreme, and then sent me home with a free extra. Our little family of 3 clearly didn’t need the additional pizza, so I hopped in my car with it and went in search of a beggar, a person or family in need. I found a Roma mother and her small daughter, freezing and sitting outside by a wall. I offered them the pizza, and in that moment I felt wonderful, seeing their eyes light up and the joy at opening the box and finding a whole fresh pizza. They ate a piece each and then stored away the rest, perhaps for later, perhaps for other family members. But when I got back in my car, I felt horrible. I hadn’t given anything of myself. Not a bit. That was an extra pizza that I didn’t even pay for and truth be told didn’t like (had bacon and sour cream on it). So what had I given? My scraps. That’s it. Kind of pathetic really.
Living in France has helped us to become much less wasteful. It’s natural, and sort of expected in society. I can no longer take a plastic grocery bag away from a store without feeling a little grossed out by it (in part because it costs a nickel, in part because it’s killing the environment, mostly because it’s just wasteful). Much less is consumed and wasted here than my former life in the States. I actually look back on our burning trash in Africa and think we wasted a lot there too. I’m really glad that our lifestyles have changed to the point that it’s natural to reuse, recycle, and give away what’s excess.
Think about how much good we could do the world if we were intentional about putting our excess to good use. You know that silly phrase moms use to get their kids to eat vegetables by saying that there’s starving children in Africa? Well I’ve lived there, and it’s true. But you can’t box up your green beans and ship them to “starving kid in Africa.” You know what you can do? Pull together all the leftovers, mix them into a casserole with some cheese or something (not the cook in the family...), put it in a box and go find a family in need. I’m willing to bet there’s more than one within a couple miles of your house. But don’t confuse it: that’s not giving. That should simply be normal. Everyday. Expected.
I want to get to the point that giving, actually giving of myself is easy, natural, and a lifestyle. Giving of my excess is a nice step. One that will help the world, but maybe not change it. Instead of (or rather in addition to) passing on my scraps of pizza, how about finding that same family and asking what they’d like on their pizza? Then order it, pay for it, and hand-deliver it. That’s a bit more like giving. And I don’t want it to be seasonal. I want it to be January through December. Every month, every year.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
