Footprints and reflections

             

Friday night, I got asked the ultimate questions for Christians, and probably a lot of people: Why religion? Why church? What’s the point? As someone who didn’t grow up in an evangelical church, and wasn’t raised with the idea that it’s my job to convert people to my way of thinking, I didn’t have a rehearsed answer. I’m curious as to whether this makes my way of communicating more embracive to people of different ideas, or makes me sound more full of crap.

Whenever I get asked questions like this, I try to mention that my ideas on the “God thing” aren’t 100% stereotypical or, to some, ideal, Christian. Her biggest argument against religion was that it’s man made, and I told her, to a degree, I agree with her. Another argument is that so much hatred in the world is stemmed from religious beliefs, and I also agreed with that. I told her that my only way of explaining what I understand of God is energy that inspires all human connection, and she argued that you can get a feeling for all the connectivity without going to church, without labeling it God. I also agreed with that, to an extent. It’s points like these, where I believe many arguments or debates are stemmed more from semantics rather than ideas or understanding.

 I get the sense from a lot of people that on some level we have similar ways of thinking about the world, but we have extremely varying ways of explaining how we think about it, stemmed from so many things: our raising and surrounding culture, books we’ve read, our education, our friends, our personality, our likes and dislikes, etc. My friend asked me if I thought that I was mostly Christian and went to church because that’s what I was used to. I answered, “Probably so, and I don’t see anything wrong with that.” However, had I been raised under different circumstances, in a church that shoved religion down my throat rather than nurtured my faith, or grew up under a different “faith,” all together, I’d like to think that there would still be an essence of the person that I am today under there somewhere.

That’s a pretty big human question isn’t it? One we cover in every social science, just about. Am I who I am because that’s the way I was born, or have I become the way I am because of how I was raised and the things that I’ve learned? Easy answer: yes. Trying to define one part without the other, I believe, is impossible. “I was born this way.” For me I really was Presbyterian before I was born. My dad’s side of the family can trace our Presbyterian minister lineage back to some of the first churches in Scotland. So, I was raised in the tradition and taught the stories, but knowing something and accepting it are two different things. Both my church camp, and my college and post-college experiences have taught me to challenge ideas, and to ask questions, to allow myself to be challenged but to find a foundation within my core being, that keeps me grounded. And, that’s what I explained to my friend, in not so many words, church and religion is for me, a foundation.

But I respect people that find that rooted quality from other aspects of life, such as family, friends, books, nature, or just life in general and all its fascinating twists and turns. I find it completely fine if someone wants to label that as something other than God. But I also think it’s completely fine, and doesn’t make me a lesser person for having something that I know gives me a good sense of checks and balances within myself, a chance to get “out of my head” yet dig deeper into it at the same time. Church gives me a chance, once a week to come to a familiar community and think with my “big picture” mind, and hopefully learn something new, as I also do from going to work every day, riding the bus, or indulging in conversation with others. The bible says “Where two or more meet, there I shall be also.” So, maybe that’s not about meeting in a particular type of building, or with a certain group of people, or even about a particular subject, but setting aside time, making time, and investing time in being in and seeking community in order to learn and grow from it, and to gain a deeper awareness of the world outside of ourselves.

I guess my best answer for “Why Christianity” for me is solidarity in my life. While I can combine some of the teachings of Buddha and Gandhi and others, I am rooted in my first teacher, Jesus. (Well, my parents, and Sunday school teachers, but yeah.) I am personally more “in love” with the person than the savior that of Jesus Christ, (which is where that “not ideal Christian” philosophy might come into play for some) and his example was the first one I was taught. I don’t think that discounts my other teachings and other life experiences, but enhances them. Each new experience broadens my scope, but “I was born this way,” and I think it would be disrespectful to myself and to all who have nurtured me to discount that. I would have said before that Christianity isn’t all that defines me. To an extent, that’s true. Just as someone who was gay would say being gay wasn’t all that they were, though still in today’s society, people get tripped up on that one detail, or being woman isn’t the only deciding factor in my abilities, or being older or younger doesn’t always make you more or less wise.

So, maybe it’s labels that are to blame, words that are misused or misunderstood that create so many dividing lines. Those dividing lines, to a large degree, are what are “human made.” To put my religion in a box and leave it for Sundays and say it doesn't define me would discount the beautiful ways it has lead me to exactly where I am today, just as each new soul I encounter should have the chance to make an impact on mine. It’s okay to allow things to define you. In a sense, that’s what life is all about. But it’s even more important to acknowledge what those things are so that they don’t create barriers that disallow you to listen and to hear and see new ways of thinking about life. It’s important to embrace the challenges and ask the questions so that you can continue to shape and gain perspective. It’s a pretty big puzzle, and to think that one person could have every piece would not only be arrogant, but sadly misinformed and limiting to all this life has to offer.

Had a quick reflection this morning, as I was walking through someone else's snow tracks so as not to soak my boots, how many people's footsteps I've followed while discerning my own path. I’m grateful for my family and teachers who have set great examples for me. Sometimes though, we do need to get our feet wet. There is still exploration to be done and new discoveries to be made. That’s why I’m grateful to be part of a church that tries to discern what our world needs to look like in 2013 and onward instead of 2000-some-odd years ago, just as we hope our country, our families, and our teachers will make decisions that make for a better today that will lead toward a positive tomorrow for those who come after us.

Being Engaged In and During a Year of Service

“…and what about this Valentine’s Day? Isn’t that, uh… everyday? Shouldn’t you love… the people you love… each day of the week?” says a stranger on the bus on my roommates’ and my way home from the zoo, on community day. 

Though the rest of his rant took some interesting turns, talking about how he would only send people he hates to the Catholic church, and that he wouldn’t tell his crack smoking friends where they would go after they die, but, “uh, when you get to hell, you won’t be smokin’ no more crack, because hell is gonna smoke you…,” his first statement rings of some validity. One has to ask the question why we have all the holidays. Why do we pick one day of year and call it the day of love, of for some “singles’ awareness day?”

From an anthropological side, it’s pretty simple, ritual. I mentioned in a recent blog that we as humans need ritual. Times of Advent and, now, Lent, are good times to get into a certain mindset, not that you don’t think about the things you think about at those certain times, but that you focus on certain aspects of your life that can be interrupted by the day-to-day.

So, in light of this Valentine’s Day, (it's officially 2/14/13 in Arkansas) I’d like to address a topic that I haven’t mentioned as much on this blog. Since I got the permission of my fiancé, Alex, I wanted to talk about what it’s like to be engaged in a year of service while also being engaged to someone who is 12 hours away. A lot of people have asked me why I’ve done this year, and what it’s like to be away from a fiancé, and you might also want to know how I keep focused. Well, I’ll tell you, it’s not always easy.

I found out when I got to orientation, that I was actually one of 3 girls that got engaged, I believe about the same time, who were entering a year of service, one of whom has gone home, and another doing seemingly fine even further, and across the sea from her betrothed. But it goes with my theme of this year, that I’m “Not Alone” in this journey. I assumed I would be a rarity, being engaged and moving away, but I wasn’t the only one. And it gave me some comfort.

Culture is different in Denver. Not that it’s Super common to be engaged to someone 6 months after you started dating in Arkansas, but it is more common. Here, couples can date years and years, and marriage never crosses their mind or isn’t as high on the priority list. But, since Alex and I knew from the first day that we met that I was going to go away for a year, we were from the start able to think about what tomorrow would and could bring. It didn’t take long before the long-term and then forever topics started becoming apparent to both of us. In fact, it was a month in when I knew I wanted him to be the father of my children. Haha! We went to see the Lorax, and there was a girl who said some thing cute, to which he replied, “Aw, I want one!” Yep… Sold!

He mentioned something about wanting to give me something special before I went to Denver, and I asked him if he was going to send me to this new city with a ring on my finger. I knew for certain that he had big plans when he told me that he wanted to “have a talk with” my dad. And then, when his mom showed up to our family reunion, not that that’s the weirdest thing in the world, but still a nice surprise, I had a feeling it was it.

And, man, my boy can deliver a speech. He told my dad’s whole side of the family, before we said grace, about how along the way, Alex and I had taken a good amount of challenges on, which we had been pretty good at overcoming. He said, that this year raises questions of what this year will hold, and he decided it was another challenge, and one he knew we would overcome. He got down on his knee and asked me to take on the challenge of being engaged, and to be his wife.

Alright, so… fast track, 6 months later. Have we fought? Yes. Have we cried? Yes. Have we had lots of moments where we’ve thought to ourselves, “This would be a lot more fun” or “easier if my fiancé was here”? Most definitely! There are times that it’s been way harder than I imagined, but even more moments that he reminds me why I committed to this. He’s been really supportive during my rollercoaster rides of emotions and challenges this year. He doesn’t like it when I cry, and wishes he could make it better, but we’ve both learned what it really means to appreciate our time together, time on the phone and the time that we’ve gotten to see each other, every other month or so. Do we wish those times were fewer and further between? Umm, without a doubt. But, we, to some sense, knew what we were getting ourselves into and that it wouldn’t be easy. The last 6 months have been full of surprises, but mostly I’m pleasantly surprising myself.

I know it would be easier to be engaged and together, but the distance, on my end at least, has made me a stronger person, and more faithful. I’ve retrained the way I am when I go out, when I think about my day. I make sure I call him when I can, and when I meet strangers, yeah strangers, at a bar, I’m quick to delve into how much I love my fiancé. I’m sure to some people it’s annoying or weird, but it’s also been really cool to meet the people that are supportive of me, and want to know more, people that don’t just treat me like I’m crazy for doing this.

One of my coworkers was a lot of help. She and her now husband spent 2 years apart while he did 2 years of service in Texas, and she was getting her Masters in New York. She said that the biggest thing to remember is to “buy in” to this year, and to expect that of Alex too, thus the title of this blog entry: being engaged in and during this year.

I knew before coming that I didn’t want to just be “the engaged girl.” I wanted to fully commited to everything I came into this year to accomplish. I wanted to be a part of my home community in Denver, to get to know a new city, to learn about the urban context and ways God was working in it, and to bring my skills to the table and offer them for free for the one year that I could. I’m so thankful that I have someone who, mostly, patiently waits for me 12 hours away, who knows that it’s better for me to do this year and follow a calling, than to throw it away for love. That makes our love stronger, and we continue to grow day by day.

Happy Valentine’s Day to the love of my life, Alex Hampton. Thank you for being there and holding on. You’re the strongest person I know, and I’m grateful for everything you are and mean to me, as a still growing woman and as your future wife.

I would also ask that my friends and family and passers by who read this blog to pray, if you haven’t already, for continued blessings over our relationship, that we always feel his presence and each others love, even from a distance.

Peace, love, music and the best of things,

Lacy

                                                                                          Picture from Valentine's Day '12

The Beauty in the Dissonance

Can’t see the forest for the trees…

On transfiguration Sunday, it seems appropriate to mention the growing process that is this year. I’ve always been a heavy processor, so sometimes it’s hard for me to be in the moment. But these blogs help me to get my thoughts out as they come.

Just as the caterpillar might not be able to imagine what it will one day look like, sometimes in this year it’s hard to see the impact that this year is having, while still in the midst of it. It’s always easier to see how far you come when it’s all said on done, but it’s is also important to process along the way, imagine the big picture and continue to set goals, for constant improvement.

At The Gathering Place, my first week, we took the Strengths Finder Test, and my number one strength was Connectedness. It’s a pretty handy strength for a year such as this, but it can also create the sensory overload, if you don’t take the time to step back and ponder the steps along the way.

It was perfect that Transfiguration Sunday happened to be Youth Sunday this week, as the youth pastor pointed out that there is no better time to see transfiguration in its rarest form take place than in young people. I like the way he worded it, not that it’s a change, but that it’s becoming the truest best version of yourself. My addition would be that back on the butterfly analogy: The butterfly isn’t all of a sudden no longer the caterpillar, but is just a heightened version of its old self. I think any parent can attest to an understanding of this, that when they watch their kid grow up, it’s not that the child is not that baby they held in their arms, but it’s a beautiful process to watch this life take form and flourish, blossom, and grow: transfiguration.

Of course the butterfly metaphors always stir deep emotion in me, to the time I wrote a song two days before my first college roommate, and one of my best friends passed away. I wrote a song in about thirty minutes and had no idea where it had come from. The lyrics seemed to pour out of, with, mostly, a detachment of meaning at the time. All I knew of the song at the time, was the emotion it gave me at the time, an intense feeling of connectedness to something that I didn’t understand.

4 days later, after I had been playing the song during the music festival in Winfield, Kansas, I learned of Haley’s passing. Again, I had no idea at the time that this song I had written would become one that would give me comfort, until I was driving to Springfield for the memorial service, and the words started playing in my head again. “It doesn’t always make sense, unless you make it make sense. And you can’t make a difference, unless you choose, to make a difference.”

The song was Beauty in the Dissonance, and as I said before, I honestly didn’t know what I was writing at the time until I got there. It was a real “God moment” for me, when it was told to us at the service that “Haley loved butterflies.” That’s when it clicked! One of the lyrics of my song was, “It’s a tapestry, but you can’t see it from the bottom: all the butterflies that would have flown by if you hadn’t caught ‘em.” I realized then that Haley had been one of my butterflies that I had had the fortunate privilege of catching for a few year of my life, one day to let her move on.

And of course, the tapestry is also a beautiful metaphor for someone with a Connectedness strength: that we can’t always know how complete the picture of our life’s story is, until we gain perspective, or maybe we’ll never really fully know. But occasionally we get little glimpses of the transformations and transfigurations we’ve made along the way, as we become heightened and better versions of ourselves.

In case you would like to know the lyrics of the whole song, to get a better knowledge of why, as arrogant as it my sound (though I truly believe that when true inspiration comes, we should be grateful for it), this song of mine has taken many forms and fit many needs for me, the lyrics will follow. And, maybe it will mean something else for you. That is the beauty of music to me, that it can touch us in many different ways as our paths wind and change and intertwine with one another. Songs can somehow transfigure themselves to meet our needs at the time, just as I believe our relationships with God and with others have to.

Also, if you would like to listen, and this isn’t an intentional plug, the recording of the song is on iTunes and Amazon: Beauty in the Dissonance, from Jeremy’s and my album, Going Up. Enjoy!

On a journey, barely begun

On a journey, so far from done

And I will continue to strive,

But there are pieces, I don’t understand,

Pieces that demand more of me

And force me to see

That it doesn’t always make sense,

Unless you make it make sense

And you can’t make a difference,

Unless you choose, to make a difference.

So, breath in the good.

Breath out the bad.

But let it linger on your tongue, just so you’ll remember,

And you’ll do better!

It’s a tapestry, but you can’t see it from the bottom:

All the butterflies that would have flown by if you hadn’t caught ‘em.

Hope you gained something from their beauty: an experience.

No, it doesn’t always make sense,

Unless you make it make sense,

And you can’t make a difference,

Unless you choose to make a difference.

So breathe in the good.

Breathe out the bad.

But let it linger on your tongue, just so you’ll remember,

And you’ll do better…

The beauty in the dissonance, the beauty in the dissonance.

You make your life beautiful by making it yours,

Seeing open windows, rather than closed doors.

The wrong notes can make you cringe,

But you can weave around them, count them as fringe.

The beauty in the dissonance…

(It's good to remember that sometimes, the picture might not seem beautiful, because we're seeing it from the wrong side or angle. Discussions with a variety of people can help expand our knowledge, and broaden our view.)