Month: December 2012 (Page 2 of 3)

It’s my Christmas and I’ll cry if I want to

December 16, 2012 / Michele Minehart

It could be a symptom of getting older. It could be the transition of becoming a parent. It could be spiritual realities finally breaking through to the depths of my heart. It could be pregnancy hormones. In any case, I’ve yet to make it through a Sunday in Advent without crying. Usually at least once during the music in church; then again sometime mid-afternoon. To quote our current series at church, I’m a Christmess.

Surprisingly, the better the week, the more difficult the Sunday. As I’m able to celebrate more and more good things in our life, come Sunday I’m overwhelmed with an ache. A hurt. As if the advent season digs up this internal reality of the understanding that we’re waiting and holding on for something… more. Something substantial, better than any blessing for which we’ve already given thanks. The penultimate “something more.”

And now we can add in a tragedy, all these feelings and a sense of grief over the children in Connecticut. The event deepened an existing feeling that I’ve felt in my bones this whole season… God, we need you a little bit closer.

Today during the cantada a verse of We Three Kings struck me (and thus I subsequently cried), about the Magi following the light. I looked it up. After they had heard the king, [the Magi] went on their way and the star they had seen when it rose went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshipped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. (Matthew 2:9-11)

In the midst of the song, the reality I’ve cried over sunk from within my heart down deeper, down toward somewhere close to my liver… it’s in the darkness that we can recognize the light. Oh, how we dislike the dark. We stumble around like a bunch of bafoons, killing each other, blaming each other, or even just knocking into one another by accident. We feel pain but don’t realize that we can’t see the truth in front of us until the light begins to break.

The most difficult part, the part that turns on round two of the tears, comes when I can’t seem to find the way to point toward the light. To be the light. All afternoon I’ve struggled, wanting to partake in an activity with the kids to help celebrate the meaning of Christmas. I want to show them what it means to be light in darkness, that Emmanuel is more than a song. A quote by Rob Bell came to mind: Why blame the dark for being dark? It’s far more helpful to ask why the light isn’t as bright as it could be. (Velvet Elvis)

I believe that part of my Sunday misery arises from the fact that each week I come face-to-face with the fact that I’m not always living as the light. Often I’m not pointing toward a guiding star. I spend some time pointing to the darkness and stating reasons why, but I rarely light a candle and visit a neighbor.

Specifically I feel powerless in the face of recent tragedy. I cannot bring children back. I will not tell others stupid pithy sayings like God “needed” angels or that it was in His plan. God never plans to hurt his people.

I’m rereading for (14th hundreth time) A Million Miles in a Thousand Years and I just came to the part where Don tells of a friend who was ready to give up on God. This friend then visited Rwanda as an effort to learn more about the atrocities that had happened there. She visited a church museum where several people hid in an effort to be safe, believing they wouldn’t be killed in a church. They were wrong and instead the entire group was massacred. Don’s friend said she stood on the brink of telling God goodbye, that this was where they parted ways. And in that moment, God spoke to her in her heart saying, “This is what happens when people walk away from me.”

Darkness is dark when no one shines a light.

Thus, the tears again. God, I want people to know light is available. There is always another way. A kingdom reigning with grace and forgiveness and love exists if someone would just pass a candle. If I would just lift my torch just a little higher.

But what does that look like? Not in a Jesus-will-make-your-problems-disappear way. But in a God-is-with-us, right here, right now kind of way. Will a plate of cookies show my neighbors that in the light, we see the world as God created it? Will a gift card speak to my mailman so he will know that in the light, we can see the goodness, not just feel our pain? Will the wrapped packages under the tree remind my family that in the light, we recognize our company and realize that we are not alone?

My Sundays struggle because I know that to show people something more, I must do something more. Not buy something more, but show, in action, God’s presence in the world. I believe God’s presence is alive in my life – how does that seep into the way I live my life with others? God, show me what that looks like right here and right now.

Amen.

Violent thoughts, difficult solutions

December 15, 2012 / Michele Minehart

First, the ways in which I’m a walking oxymoron. (And perhaps a regular moron).

1. I hate guns. We have 3 of them in the house (locked in a safe). They give me the heeby-jeebies, but yet I support my husband’s enjoyment at using them to shoot at clay pigeons. What I believe to be a right and believe to be “good things” aren’t always the same.

2. I’m a pacifist. And when I saw the photograph of a woman in sheer grief and agony, I thought – nearly aloud – if someone were to take a picture of me at such a moment, I’d cut them. Hardly a moment John Howard Yoder would be proud of. I recognize that my instincts and what I might want to do in moments of conflict may not coincide with what I believe to be true and right and good. I think that’s part of the human nature.

Now, my thoughts on yesterday.

I’ve heard blame, the cries of “we must do something” (and I’m all on board if we have full-proof plans by the time H Boy enters kindergarten). The pundits allude to new discussion of how laws and rights will shift and change. But I believe this all to be the efforts of the powerless to feel a sense of control in a situation out of their hands. Perhaps by adding “regulation” we can feel like we’re doing something, but in actuality we’re not doing anything, we’re simply passing the buck and crossing our fingers.

The problem isn’t guns – the problem is how we think about guns.

Name the last movie you watched that didn’t include ammunition. Name the last top-selling video game that lacked weaponry. Violence pervades our entertainment and our entertainment shapes the ways in which we view the world (I could make a similar argument using romance and love). Even those of us who consistently stay behind the trends by a good 6 months, can’t name the last 3 Academy Award winners or the 4 major gaming systems (are there only 4?) become shaped and molded by what we see on the screen.

I’m not saying it’s the fault of the media for producing violence-laden entertainment. I’m saying it’s the fault of society for not realizing that it can, and will, impact our perception of reality. Can a reasonable adult play a shooting game and be trusted not to let loose on the neighborhood? Sure. But can we at least ask that same reasonable adult to acknowledge that engaging in the activity has in some way glorified the heinous act of killing people simply in the act of making it enjoyable? Absolutely, I believe we can and should.

In our culture’s version of “conflict” we crave seeing it in a physical form. It sells. So it’s highlighted, celebrated, and sought out. “Chick flicks” even require a certain level of action to pacify segments of the audience. We walk into a cinema expecting something to be blown up. And woven in the the messages of the stories to which we seek to escape are lies, lies, lies about violence. These experiences make violence simple, often non-emotional methods of finding solution. But they’re so common that we’re not always sure how to find resolution without the epic action scene of saving the girl and the building.

Do I advocate a moratorium of movie-making? Not really. But rather than ask some lawmaker to pass a 465 page bill that no one understands which makes it more inconvenient for those seeking to properly use a gun, perhaps we as individuals, as parents, as families, as churches, as schools, as communities, should ask ourselves how we view – and glorify – violence and how it might affect those being raised in that culture.

My 4 year old often picks up random toys, such as a plastic vice grip (I had to ask what it was called). He uses it as a “shooter”, to shoot-shoot-shoot at people. How exactly do I speak to this? How do we begin to talk about why people shoot other people? And if we feel it’s okay to shoot “the bad guys”, what defines a “bad guy”? How bad of a guy does s/he have to be?

These are the questions we’re letting our media answer for us. And often, it doesn’t take much to define a bad guy. One could simply “hurt you.” Sometimes, it only takes being different from ourselves, being part of an opposing team, group or country. How does this speak for our views on acceptable violence? And when this is the pervading message of our culture, why are we shocked when its youth take these beliefs and live them out in extreme and horrifying means?

“Gun control”? Probably not a solution. Banning all movies and games with guns? Probably not a solution. Calling members of personal society to personal reflections about internal beliefs about “acceptable” violence? Not an an easy solution. But for many of us trying to make sense of tragedy, it might be the first solution we can seek out.

The List: 2012, A Summary

December 13, 2012 / Michele Minehart

I cringe to review my progress on 2012 goals; I forgot to do a mid-year check, so some of these received no attention. A few of them saw huge gains, mostly because if I didn’t see progress, I’d crumple up in a mess. I needed it. I read a blogger who reviews his list each week and posts progress toward each goal…. I might need to consider something similar for 2013 as I begin composing the new list. But first, a review on 2012.

1. Create more. If I can make something (sewing, crafting, activities outside of “play with your toys”) each month, I’ll feel like a supreme success.

I’ll score this one a 6 on a personal level, a 1 on a familial level. I find myself crafting and making more gifts (I’m super excited to give Jack his this year! And I think – hope – Raya will be impressed), but for my own kids, I’m lacking. I’d love to make a playhouse, H-boy his own version of Jack’s present, all kinds of fun stuff I’m seeing on Pinterest and – let’s be honest – I have the time now. There’s big room for improvement next year if this makes this list.

2. Complain less. I’ll be a better conversational partner because of it.

I’d like to say at least a 5, but if I were to survey those I speak with the most, I have a feeling I’d be sub-3. Definite room for improvement. A moment of self-defense: I’ve learned this year I have a bit of an entrepreneurial mind, always looking for ways to improve or make things better. I don’t necessarily see this as a shortfall, but in smaller bits it may come across as complaining about the status quo. But honestly, I’m less about the “how stupid is this?” and more about the “can you imagine if we…?”. If using that perspective, I give myself an 8.

3. Serve on a regular basis. I’m not sure what this looks like, but I’m doing my research. In my hopes to engage the community, I need to be specific that it’s not the community “just like me.”

At max, 1. Awful. I did do research and found that my time constraints were overwhelming my ability to follow through. Unless I find a place to serve that offers childcare, and it’s not between 12-3 (naptime).

4. Write something beyond the blog.

Based on how this is written – 10! I did it! I posted with one other blog. However, my intentions were for more than 2 posts… so I should honestly give it a 5 and hope to double it in the future.

5. Do a bit of physical activity 5 days a week. My downfall is when this requires changing into a bra that prevents bounce. But I just found a 30 day “challenge” (thanks Pinterest!) that provides some movement and crunching that I can squeeze in at the end of the day sans post-activity shower. A few jumping jacks and crunches are better than nothing.

6. Take more pictures.

Epic fail. Zero. I think I left the camera home more often than I took it, especially during the summer months. I did grow slightly in my efforts with the iphonetography, but only when the kids were especially cute. I bet I didn’t even average a new picture a week – a week! – on the iphone. I’m going to look back it this someday and cry.

7. Find new outlets to meet people in this community. A writers group, a running club for young girls,

Dar la Luz, kids activities (parks & rec activities, the library)… there are possibilities out there if I choose to follow through.

8! I did well! Partway through the summer I began helping with our co-op, Stone’s Throw, and really enjoyed my time working with others there. I still try to participate, though the meeting schedule is changing, and I intend to continue participating in various ways with it. I still wouldn’t mind meeting others in the other contexts I find myself often – H Boy’s preschool, the library, and church.

8. Facebook less. If I really want to know what my friends are doing, give them a call, shoot them an email asking them real questions about their life or plan an outing to meet up.

Ummm… 2? On a good day? Justification: I now use facebook as a major role in my professional life, so I can’t exactly ignore it. But on the personal level – which was really the root of the goal – I didn’t succeed. I have a handful of my friends that I call, but silly things like JOBS cause obstruction (and my evening hours are much more difficult to sit and have a chat). Perhaps a goal about connecting with friends each month would be worthwhile.

9. Get dressed more. Working from home has a way of luring me into my comfy pants. Though I don’t need to go to the 9s, I could at least don pants with a zipper 3-4 times a week.

Boom! I’ll give myself an 8. Even now, when I don’t always leave the house, I change clothes mid-morning when the kids get dressed and always try to give an appearance to the mailman that I’m not spending the day huddled under the blankets. I never want to give an impression of, “Oh, kids sick again?” because I’ve not attempted to put myself together, even if it’s a ponytail. Every once in a while both the kids and myself stay in our jammies a bit longer, but it’s a treat we enjoy.

Month: December 2012 (Page 2 of 3)

It’s my Christmas and I’ll cry if I want to

Violent thoughts, difficult solutions

The List: 2012, A Summary

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