Month: August 2013 (Page 2 of 4)

Standing on the Ledge

I’ve never been close to catastrophe of any sorts. Today, however, I turned left onto the overpass to come home and saw that traffic was slowing and cruiser lights were flashing. Figuring it was an accident, I did the slow drive by… however, I saw a man climbing around the tall fencing of the overpass, dressed in all black and looking down. Cops were trying to keep onlookers on foot from approaching. It dawned on me: he was threatening to jump. 

I’ve never sobbed for someone I didn’t know until today, either. But my heart was up around my eyeballs as I fully absorbed what was happening; that feeling of complete helplessness overwhelmed me. According to the news of FB, they got him down within the next half hour. The police informed the news that the man was recently released from the Shelby County jail and had headed straight for the overpass. 
This incident occurred right after I had passed 2 vans full of mentally handicapped adults and had allowed my mind to wonder what life was like for those individuals and those that work with them. Where the vans were going. The name of one of them had something to do with independence. I wondered how close to independence many of them ever reached. 
Which came after this morning’s reading by a mother of a child with significant physical and mental challenges. I appreciated her honesty about her feelings regarding her situation. 
It’s as if I spent my morning observing the spectrum of the affects of developmental disabilities and physical illness. Beginning with the blog, this mother lived amid frustrating challenges, but admittedly was well resourced. She made reference to her “team” at the school who helped get her son everything he might need. She clearly understood her role as his advocate. 
And then these vans of people – they didn’t have families necessarily living with them to take care of them, but they had support and structure. 
But this guy, who I can only assume needs some sort of professional help (I feel that’s a fair assumption?), feels so utterly helpless that the best solution he came up with was to end it all. His cries for help likely unheard, even to the point of breaking the law, until he stopped traffic with a threat. 
My mind immediately went to Jesus and Legion, the man with 100 “evil spirits” in him. The locals had chained him to a tree, but he kept getting loose. He’d hurt himself. “Night and day he would cry out” (Mark 5:5). He was left to live alone in the cemetery. 
He approaches Jesus, slightly scared, shouting, “What do you want with me? Don’t hurt me!”
And Jesus asks him, “What is your name?” 
The man responds “Legion, for we are many.” He names himself by his situation, his condition. 
Evil spirits, mental illness, physical challenges… how often we simply don’t see the person in the midst of the condition. Created in God’s image, the same as I. And their families who love them the best they know how.
I know from personal experience that often times families simply don’t know how to deal with those who have these kinds of difficulties. They don’t know anyone else who has faced it, they’re not well connected and don’t know who to ask for resources or direction. I have a family member with a pretty significant diagnosis and can no longer live independently; however, his parents aren’t able to keep with the demands of having him at home and don’t know where to find a place to send him to live. Not to mention the funds involved with having him live in any sort of group home. 
What’s a parent to do? 
And so I ask, how have we – how have I – began to meet the needs of individuals in this situation? How have we shined light into dark places? How have we come behind and said, “Don’t jump. You matter.”?
My evangelical roots would look at this and say, “what does this work have to do with sharing the gospel?” and my liberal wings respond back with “everything, because it’s the work Jesus did.” But how do we, who aren’t necessarily called into that field that assists in the day-to-day, able to help? How do we shine light? When do our prayers lead us to our presence and gifts and service in the situation? 
I just don’t know. But I came home and attempted to console my soul with – you guessed it – David Crowder. His entire Church Music album sings to this, if you ask me. I prayed through lunch with SMS Shine, reminding myself to “shine your light so I can see it; lift it up for the whole world needs it. Love has come, what joy to hear it: He has overcome. He has overcome.” 

Years in the life, life in the years

This weekend I celebrated love with a couple from my childhood church who will be married for 70 years tomorrow. 70. That’s longer than a lot of people live on earth, let alone with another person in the same home. 70 years. 

Then I celebrated the life of a woman who lived 96 years. 96! That’s a lot of years on earth. She lived well even until the very end, fully aware and making her own decisions. 96 years. 
Then tonight I stood in the parking lot, mourning with a friend whose husband had left after 22 years. 22. She never saw it coming. 
I wish there was a secret. A formula. A few rules to follow so I could solidify my future into the 70 or 96 camp. But I don’t know of such rules because they probably don’t exist. As much as I like to help write my own story in life, I realize that I’m not the author, I’m the character. I don’t choose when or how the ending comes. 
So I celebrate. And I mourn. And I pray. I live into this day the best I can. 

The efficacy of self-sufficiency

Faux-yogurt and faux-creamer. That’s all I needed from Kroger (as Meijer’s selection of dairyless necessities runs pretty slim). Okay, and cilantro. Obviously, I use the self-checkout. Welcome to Kro-ger, it greets me. 

And then I have one kid trying to lean on the shopping bag holder. Please remove the last item from the bagging area. Another kid pulls a balloon attached to an entire box of Slim Jims. Please check your item and scan again. And then the cilantro… type in alternate ID. Invalid ID. Wait! What’s the other prompt for the 5-digit number? 
The 19-year-old at the kiosk only had to visit my little computer 3 times. I thought about saying “thank you” in a foreign language so he wouldn’t credit my IQ level to my behavior. 
Part of me wonders why Kroger even installed such gadgets, because they’re never faster than waiting in line, even those expressly marked “express.” Hands down, the Kroger employees can remember that bananas are 4066 far easier than I can find the little blue sticker. And it’s not a magic touch to get the scanner to read your Plus card. It’s learned skill. 
I need the friendly Kroger associate in my life to make my grocery shopping experience go smoothly. I might be able to do it all myself, but that doesn’t mean it’s effective or efficient. It means I’m stubborn. Over-confident. Perhaps a tad zealous. 
It probably stems from our standard American patterns of life, how we picked up a notion that anything that is to be done, I can do better myself. Please don’t bag my groceries – I can do it myself. Please don’t take my coat – I’ll hang it myself. For heaven’s sake don’t cream my coffee (I’m looking at you, McDonalds) – I’ll take care of that myself. 
What if – what if! – the people offering to serve us actually have a clue how to do things better. That our self-sufficiency is a fallacy created only to make us feel better. I’ll stand in Maryann’s line at Meijer and race anyone in the self-service area and win every time (not to mention hear how wonderful my kids are!). But the self-checkers like to feel better. The control is in their own hands, so if it takes longer, it doesn’t feel like it because I’m in control
Looking around, specifically at my generation, I think it would be in our best interest to let those who know, do. At work, at the grocery, and even in our inner lives. Believe it or not, wisdom exists outside of our own experience. And it’s even better than what we can do for ourselves.
This is why I take yoga classes, rather than simply moving through some poses at home. The teacher corrects me when my tummy doesn’t tuck under or my neck gets juxtaposed. This is why JJ ordered the special piece for the van door and shipped it to Brent, as opposed to using the YouTube video guidance. 
And it’s why I show up on Sunday mornings and actually talk to people about what is going on in my life. Specifically those who have walked this path before I ever put on my shoes. And that message being preached? No, it’s not just because the “church needs money.” It’s because the one presenting it has been scanning groceries for 23 years now and knows a thing or two about keeping your bread from getting squished. 
I can try a few different methods of bagging, but I can’t hold anyone accountable but myself when I end up with broken eggs and it takes me twice as long to get out the door.  
It’s admirable to pull ourselves up by our little bootstraps. We can do it all by ourselves. But that doesn’t mean we should
Thank you for shopping at Kro-ger
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