Nearly Naked

Unadorned

There are benefits to belonging to a homeschool community: excellent baking, access to reliable babysitters and the ability to wear denim skirts without censure.  There are codes of conduct we try to maintain, thankfulness, politeness and modesty; fairly sensible churchy things upon which we agree make life in community operate smoothly.  I understand these rules and do a fair job of keeping them which was why I was surprised when I was asked via email last week, if I was going to allow my daughter to deck her graduation cap  in pictures of naked people during a school ceremony.  As someone who regularly dresses before leaving the house, I have to confess I was confused.   Being fallible however, I touched base with my daughter to ensure she too was committed to clothing and hadn’t taken up as an exhibitionist.  I’m not into limiting artistic expression ya da, ya da….. But I wanted to ensure I didn’t need to ground her before diving into what was bound to be a precious community growth experience.  The disadvantage of homeschooling community is that life flows fairly well until it doesn’t and then no amount excellent baking and stretch denim can make up for the discipline of learning to keep your mouth shut.

You can understand why I felt set up for failure.

All jesting aside, it was a bit of a shock: a moment when the space between how you believe you are perceived and the evidence of another’s perception of you is found to be too vast to address in a civil manner.   The note put my mother bear instincts on instant high alert.  The only solution that presented itself to my raging mind was to write back that my daughter had not intended to draw naked people on her person, but rather sculpt nude replicas from Fimo after attending a naked hot yoga class, after which she would place them on her hat. 

Would you find it surprising that my husband and I have a system whereby I am not supposed to send emails when I’m angry? 

I was faced with a moment of decision.  I could either let my emotions rule, or I could invest in giving the benefit of the doubt to those who hurt me.  Don’t think for a moment that this is a blurb about how to be a better person; nothing could be farther from the truth.  This is a blurb for those who have met Jesus yet are continually faced with the fact that a ruinous force of self-righteousness lurks in their heart and much of their time is spent trying to figure out how to behave so as not to dishonor someone they love. 

So what is an angry, misunderstood, offended, Jesus-following woman to do?

This is the part where understanding you are a wretch is fairly helpful.  If you have ever failed, if you have ever been shamed for failing, and if you have ever felt regret you are blessed.  You have the ability to remind yourself of how you wish you had been treated and to act accordingly.  It is that simple. 

I sat down in front of my computer and wrote a response to the naked people email.  It was detailed and elaborate, covering every angle I could think of and listing all possible areas of misunderstanding.   I walked away from my masterpiece for a few hours and let it sit.  When I returned, I considered how much of what I had written was about me wanting to be understood and how much actually addressed the issue at hand.  Hitting delete, I started a new letter that contained a simple answer.  No, my daughter's hat would not be covered in images of someone’s nether regions.  Thank you for checking in with me.  Thank you for all your hard work.

Simple.

It seems to me that the church is big on the power of God “to do.”  We ask God to bless, to pour out, and to release.  These days, I’m much more focused on God’s power to withhold, to restrain and to contain.  Not because containing is better than pouring out, but that with the Lord, both come from a place of love.  Sometimes we need to learn that not expressing ourselves is the more loving thing to do.

And so I am praying for wisdom for you this week my friend, especially in the presence of your enemies.  Those who pat then jab, those who blink then wink, those who smile then smirk; that Jesus would contain and restrain their effects against you.  That by his grace, you would be able to restrain yourself and cover the naked unkindness that you see in your community so that you might become an agent of change.

Yep.  I just used "agent of change" in a sentence.  I’m really sorry.  There is no excuse for that.

Be amazing this week.  Bite your tongue. Pray for those who are unkind.

xoxKaren

Opinions May Vary

No idea what picture to use.  This is beautiful.

Although the conversation happened 12 years ago, I remember it clearly.  It was after dinner and I had caught, washed and corralled my children into their beds.  Pouring myself a cup of tea, I dropped on the chesterfield and sighed.  Life with littles is busy and I was anticipating the two hours of quiet I would have to myself before bed.  The phone rang.  It was the landline.  I remember because my portable phone had died so I grabbed my tea and relocated to the kitchen floor where the phone was plugged into the wall in all its prehistoric glory. 

“Hello?”

“I can’t do this.  I can’t.”  There were more words but I couldn’t make them out but I recognized the voice.  Minka was a young 20 something I had taken under my wing 3 years earlier.  We had an easy friendship, with me fulfilling the role of big sister and mentor.  It was one of those God relationships, filled with mutual affection and kindness.  “What’s happened?   Where are you?  Are you safe?”  A wave of panic passed through my body, as I listened to her sob, “Are you okay?”  When she spoke again she was shouting, “I just cannot do this!  I can’t!  I’m not smart enough, today was horrible.  My instructor told me so.  She said I’m not cut out to be a nurse, I think she might be right.”  All I could do was wait until the tears subsided.  “Breathe.  I’m here.  Tell me what happened.”    

Conversations with Minka hadn’t been easy recently.  She was enrolled in the nursing program at the local college and as a single mother school did not come easily. Almost nightly, she would check in and tell me how the day went, its challenges and her victories.  We made a big deal of her success back then because it was hard to come by.  The idea of going back to school wasn’t hers.  My husband and I had invited her to dinner several months earlier in order to talk about her future and introduce the idea of higher education.  My role then, was of cheerleader, advocate and study partner as Minka fought her way through school.  My phone bill in those days was astronomical. 

This evening though, Minka was distraught.  During her shift she had experienced the death of a patient.  The gentleman was elderly so it wasn’t a complete surprise; however the experience, unlike anything Minka had known, left her shaken.  The situation would have been manageable were it not for the instructor supervising Minka that week.  An efficient woman, this instructor had taken an instant dislike to Minka.  It wasn’t long before her dislike grew into animosity and when combined with supervisory power, the instructor pursued Minka with a hostility that bordered on abusive.  My dear friend was left to learn to tend to the needs of a corpse while her instructor let fly a constant stream of criticism and rebuke.  Her tale included such unkindness she felt utterly defeated.  “I am going to quit,” Minka declared.  “They are going to fire me anyway.”

I remember that night as significant because Minka and I had a fight that left us both in tears.  “You aren’t quitting,” I said.  “Quitting isn’t an option.  We don’t quit.  If they want to throw you out that is fine.  Let them throw you out.  That is the only option.”   For the next three months almost every conversation ended that way.  “You got through today.  You did a good job.  If they want to throw you out they can.  You didn’t quit today and you won’t quit tomorrow.”  Regardless of how many times Minka cried or told me she couldn’t do it the statement was the same.  “If they want to throw you out they can.  You aren’t quitting.”

Eventually, all the days of deciding not to quit paid off and Minka became a nurse. The unkind instructor never did manage to get her thrown out of nursing school.  It was a victory that cost us both in grey hair.  The Nursing profession has served Minka well over the years as she has raised a family and moved from coast to coast.    It was then, a bit of a surprise to be reminded of that horrible season so casually this week.  A call to Minka was followed by a series of texts the next day. 

I forgot to tell you!  I got that teaching job I applied for at the college.

What?  With the difficult people from your school days?

Yes!  Life is crazy.  You should have seen the look on the face of the instructor that tried to get me kicked out of the program when I walked into the staff room to pick up my name tag!!  It was awesome!  I was humbled.   

I would have liked to see that.

I think I would have enjoyed the story more if Minka told me she started to sing “I’m Still Standing” under her breath as she walked… no danced…. by Mrs. Troll Instructor, but in truth, gloating wasn’t necessary.  We both know she got through that season by God’s grace alone.  It was so unbearable, only he could have seen her through.

This has me thinking this week; about those who currently have to deal with people whose hearts are against you.  A short time ago, I was told by a woman that I was uptight, interventionist and a busybody.  Forty minutes later, I was told by another woman that I was thoughtful, conscientious and caring.   More perplexing was that both women were referring to the same incident. 

This is where the difficult discipline of accountability pays dividends.  Before and after the incident transpired, I had spoken to someone wiser than myself.  I asked her to correct me and to challenge my actions both before and after the incident transpired.  Having done all I could and staying accountable to someone in authority gave me the freedom to walk on.   Sometimes my friend, when someone’s heart is against you, you need to take the loss and keep moving.

Accountability isn’t fashionable these days, especially where women are concerned.  In a culture that believes everyone has a truth and all truth is subjective, moral absolutes are abhorrent.   However, for those who choose transparency and community there are few things more comforting than a friend who puts their arm around you and says, “I hear you but you blew it.  You did this part well, but this is where you fell short.”  I’m not saying that be corrected always feels good, but blessed is the woman who can admit her short comings and not stand in self-righteousness when others fail.   You either learn that everyone falls short of the mark, or you begin to believe you are better than others.  It boils down to those who want to make peace and those for whom self-righteousness is all important.   

Mockers resent correction, so they avoid the wise.  Proverbs 15:12

Listen to advice and accept discipline, and at the end you will be counted among the wise.

Proverbs 19:20

Blessed are those who find wisdom, those who gain understanding, Proverbs 3:13

Nothing says unattractive like a face that is set in accusation.  It probably gives you bad breath too. Not a Proverb.

So I am praying for those of us who are operating in the face of opposition:  praying that we will remain accountable to others for our actions as opposed to our own limited perspective.  That the opposition we face will cause us to grow in grace and compassion as opposed to self-righteousness and bitterness. That we will learn the balance between laying down our lives for others while refusing to be a doormat to those who use us ill.   And praying earnestly that where you are wounded will be healed by the Spirit of Peace.

You are amazing.  Be kind. Keep standing.

xoxKaren

Isaiah 61:3

Engine warning lights are most helpful when they work!

It was the strange noise after accelerating that caused me to call the mechanic.  Coincidentally, the reminder for my vehicles’ annual checkup had arrived that week.   I reported the noise to Dale, my 60-something mechanic, when I dropped the car at the shop.  He assured me he would call when he located the problem. 

I have great confidence in my mechanic.  He is a car person.  More than that, he actually cares about me injuring myself in my car, which is convenient as I put myself at risk more than your average vehicle owner.   He was concerned when I was driving around with totally bald tires (who knew?) and when I wore my brakes down to nothing.  It was after that visit Dale told me that people who care for their cars bring them in annually for a checkup.  Kind of like a well child visit for your car. 

Since my lecture on car ownership I have been faithful to follow Dale’s advice.  I take my car in annually and report all strange noises it makes.  It seemed unfair then, when he called to discuss his findings.

“Hey yeah, Karen?”

“Hi Dale, what did you find out?”

“Yeah well, that engine noise you were talking about… I changed the oil and took it for a drive.  I didn’t hear the noise but you should know that the oil was down; by about 4 quarts.“

“Wait!… Doesn’t it take something like 5?”

“…… (meaningful  silence)… yeah.  Well.  That’s what I’m sayin’.”

“But Dale! When did my van start eating oil?  It’s never done that before.”

“Well you're up near 200,000 miles, they eat…burn oil as they get up there.”

“But my car never told me anything!  No lights! No indicators!  How am I supposed to know this if it won’t tell me?  It feels like I’m being set up for failure.”  I left the realm of auto mechanics and headed straight for existential philosophy. 

“Yeah, well, you might try checking the oil every now and then.”  Dale doesn’t do existential philosophy.

“That seems unfair Dale, I rely on the lights.”

“Yah, those can be kind of useless.”

In his straightforward way, Dale explained that not damaging the engine when driving with 1 quart of oil was actually a good thing and gave me another lecture on responsible car ownership.  I sighed and listened, agreeing when I could and trying to give the impression of responsibility but it was no good.  I was the woman who drove with bald tires, no brakes and now, no oil.   I comforted myself with the fact that I brought my car in when the noise started.

Have you ever found your life accelerating and found some unpleasant noise coming from under your hood my friend?  When life’s demands outstrip life’s resources, a person’s true character is revealed.  Those who are able to display “grace under pressure” are usually those who have learned to operate in less than ideal circumstances.  Suffering has reordered their prayers, their priorities and their personalities.  For example those have undergone cancer treatment are less likely to complain about annual doctor’s visits.    Knowing the fears related to treatment, they are more likely to encourage others they meet experiencing similar trials. 

Scripture prioritizes life beyond oneself, which is counter-cultural.  Suffering is valued, seen as means to learn precious lessons that are beyond the reach of those living in ease.  So I encourage you my friend to go to prayer when the din of accelerated living increases. 

Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.  

Heb 4:16

Praying for a quiet week for all of us,

xoxKaren