Trauma Response

 Last week during one of my classes,

I witnessed a kid have a trauma response.

Another kid either touched or pushed him—

I didn’t see which—

And it really upset him.

He ran over to the kid,

Said, “Don’t touch me again,”

And then ran to the back of the room

Where he stayed for the rest of class,

Trying to pull himself together.

He wasn’t trying to get attention.

He wasn’t being stubborn and not going to his seat.

He was shut down,

Clearly triggered by the other kids’ touch.

 

Last Sunday, as I was scrolling through FB,

This video caught my attention.

As I watched,

Somewhat horrified,

Somewhat sad,

I kept thinking,
“Trauma response.

This guy is so enraged that he’s not thinking.

Something has triggered him and he’s gone.”

 

According to Bing’s AI generated search,

A trauma trigger is a psychological stimulus that prompts involuntary recall of a previous traumatic experience. It can be anything that reminds you of a past trauma, such as a certain smell, a particular song or sound, or a piece of clothing.  Triggers are unique to the individual and can vary widely between people.  When you encounter a trigger after trauma, a strong emotional and behavioral reaction comes over you. It’s as if you are reliving that trauma all over again.  The word “triggered” has become a popular term to describe anything that causes emotional discomfort. But for people who have experienced trauma, triggers can be terrifying, all-consuming, and can seemingly come out of nowhere. 

 

So. The next time you see someone strongly overreact,

Stop and understand that they may be acting out of a trauma response.

And even if they’re not,

The stress of their lives may just be too much for them to handle in that moment.

Does it excuse hurtful, damaging behavior?

No.

But it sheds life on its roots…

And it reminds us that there is far more going on in a person’s life than we see on the surface.

 

Oh God: Give us eyes to see and ears to hear those who are hurting around us. When it’s us who is hurting, help us to get the help that we need. And when it’s those whom we love who are hurting, help us to love them in the exact ways they need to be loved—even if it means kicking them into your arms and allowing you do what we cannot. Be with victims of systemic trauma and grant them the resources that they need to heal. Help us to not perpetuate a broken system but to learn, to educate, and to rise above the brokenness, into wholeness in you. Amen. 

Broken Human Reality

I ate shrimp on Monday
and I didn't die
and this is a big deal because I have avoiding shellfish for years
because I've been standing in solidarity with my grandmother who is allergic to shellfish
and I've been living in the anxiety instilled in me by a friend who also has become allergic to
both shellfish and mushrooms...

A little over two years ago, I began having panic attacks when I ate.
At the time, I didn't know what was happening.
All I knew was that I was afraid to eat for fear that my throat would close up and I couldn't be able to breathe.
After a month of living with this fear and cutting out about half of the foods I ate because so many were attached to that feeling of
tongue swelling, throat closing, chest hurting, head floating, skin sweating, and lungs gasping,
I went to the doctor.
I was convinced that I, like my friend, had suddenly become allergic to shellfish, mushrooms, and most of the rest of the food in the world.

After sitting with the doctor and sobbing for ten minutes,
I was relieved when she kindly looked at me and said,
"1) Let's change your acid reflux medicine because sometimes reflux can cause things to feel weird in your throat.
2) I'm not sure that you're actually allergic to any foods, but let's do a food allergy test to make sure.
3) We need to adjust your anxiety medication. I think it's stopped working! It sounds like you've been having panic attacks and those are horrible. So until the new meds get into your system, I'm going to give you something to take when you start to feel like this again. It should act immediately to calm you down."

I've not yet had to take that emergency medicine.
I hope that I never will.
Just being able to name what was happening as panic attacks--
being able to speak it out loud and have someone carry the weight with me--
has helped me be able to talk myself through them when they start to happen:
whether it be while eating alone, eating in crowds of people, eating with individuals for the first time,
walking through large crowds of people, walking through the mall alone, singing or playing an instrument with a group, or any other time I've ever felt those feelings of getting ready to die.

Looking back, I realize that I've had panic attacks
(some minor, some more severe)
for over half of my life.

Am I proud of this fact? No.
Is it difficult to admit that I'm on medication for anxiety--that when I don't have medication in my system my brain chemicals flow out of control, irrational fear and worry seize my mind, and depression begins to creep into my soul? Yes.
Is this embarrassing for a recovering, people-pleasing perfectionist who places her faith in a God she believes not to be a God of worry and fear? Absolutely.

And yet.
This is my broken, human reality.
And I'm okay.

Actually,
I'm more than okay:
I am created in God's image,
and I was deemed good, though far from complete,
and I am chosen and dearly loved,
and so are you, my friend--
so are you.

Just Walk Beside Me

My parents and I went to Cracker Barrel for dinner tonight.

As we walked to our table, I noticed that the host was talking but I had no idea what he was saying. When I rounded the table to get to my seat, I heard “pork chops” and “specials” and “we’re asking everyone to be reminded of our chicken and dumplings” but none of it made sense to me.

Once we were seated and began waiting for our food, my parents and I began to notice just how enthusiastic the host was about his job. My dad watched him waving his arms and speaking excitedly to the woman behind me who wasn’t paying him any attention. My mom and I watched him escort five parties of people to their tables, happily talking the entire way. The thing is: just like he did with us, the host walked in front of the guests, aiming his voice forward, so that no one but the people already seated could hear anything he was saying. But he didn’t care. He was completely oblivious to the fact that his talent for and happiness with his job was causing him to over-function and do his job ineffectively.

…

Many years ago, when we were in college, my best friend and I came to an impasse in our friendship. My ability to love and care for my friends was causing me to over-function and be an ineffective friend.

During this impasse, I went on a mountain retreat with my campus ministry group; my best friend went as well. I remember the retreat well because we found ourselves staying in a rustic mountain cabin with no electricity…and the cabin was surrounded by absolute mountain beauty—including a mountain stream.

On Saturday afternoon, as we sat on a rock overlooking the stream, my best friend and I talked out our differences and moved forward from our impasse. Sometime later, I wrote:

On a rock in the woods up in the mountains sit two children of God
They look below them and see peaceful waters flowing over the rocks and down the hill.
The astronaut [my best friend] cried, “Please don’t walk in front of me,”
The zookeeper [me] cried, “Please not behind,”
“Won’t you just walk beside me and be my friend so that together we’ll sink or swim?”

….

Loving God of heaven and earth,
We praise your holy name.
We pray for your love and peace to live through us on earth,
Just as love and peace exist untainted in your eternity.
We pray that we will know the difference between wants and needs and that our needs will be met.
We pray that your Spirit will guide us to know where and how to share our abundance.
Forgive us, God, when we mess up:
When we walk ahead,
When we walk behind,
When we say too much,
When we don’t say enough,
Forgive us, God we pray,
And give us compassion to forgive ourselves and to have the courage to forgive those who have hurt us.
Keep our minds and hearts pure, and help and protect us as we seek to live lives of unity and grace that honor you.
For you are God and we are not, and all praise, glory, and worship belong to you,
Forever and ever and always,
Let it be so.
Please let it be so.
Amen.

Prison Ministry and More

I recently had the opportunity to hear a speaker talk about prison ministry. I can’t remember his name, but his presentation connected with what I knew about prison ministry through my work with Angel Tree Camps in NC and The Department of Juvenile Justice and prisoner packets in SC, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. The thing is: he didn’t just talk about prison ministry. He talked about ministry in general. And life. And he was very real. And his words gave me a lot to consider. Maybe they will do the same for you?

Prison ministries need prayer. The system is messed up. It is broken. We need prayer to fix it. It’s the only thing that can, actually.

One of the things that persons in prison don’t often get to do is give. Giving prisoners the opportunity to give is life giving.

Reentry is tough. Nationwide, up to 2/3’s of persons released from prison will return to prison. The transition from prison to life is shocking. A lot of times, when persons are used to community living (like jail/prison), it’s hard to transition to individual living. A lot of people don’t know how to make this transition. Furthermore, in some people, the fight or flight instinct is so developed that it’s their go-to. A lot of freed prisoners aren’t sure how to act when they return to the work and educational settings of society—if they are even granted those opportunities. As a result, many persons shut down, fight, or leave. Unfortunately, persons who work in rehabilitation are not valued—especially with funding. This is where the church must come in. We must work in areas of prevention, treatment, and mediation to first keep persons out of prison and to second help persons who have been jailed slowly transition back to society. The church has the unique ability to succeed in prison ministry by continuously showing up. We have the unique ability to provide the structure and routine that so many people need. This may be difficult. And it may get messy. But the church can make a huge difference in helping persons live truly free.

It’s difficult to see people not cooperating. It’s difficult to listen to people complain about one another and not know when/how to speak. Yet sometimes in the ministry, we treat others as adversaries—especially when it comes to the issues of funding and volunteers. Sometimes in ministry, defenses immediately go up when someone talks about the needs of his/her ministry and we become protective of our own. Yet. God cooperates with all who seek to follow God’s plan of redemption for this world. And. God does not try to coerce or guilt us into joining God’s mission.

In every class, there are five students who love us, five students who hate us, and twenty-five students who are neutral. We, as teachers, must show up for all of them, yes. But we must show up especially for the twenty-five who are neutral. The ones who love us probably don’t really love us so we can’t allow them to falsely boost our egos. The ones who hate us probably don’t really hate us so we can’t allow them to falsely tear us down. The ones in the middle are the ones who willingly journey with and learn alongside us. The ones in the middle are the ones who balance out the extremes and keep us sane.

One of the biggest challenges we face in ministry is being a differentiated self while remaining connected to the system.

Everyone is trying to survive. We never know what’s going on in people’s lives.

Even when it seems that God is not working, God is. There is always hope in God’s redemptive story.

We must experience a lot of Good Fridays and Holy Saturdays before we arrive at Easter.

Often, it’s the sighs and groans from the Spirit that remind us that we’re here for a reason. Sometimes all we can hear and all we can give are the sighs and groans.

Peace isn’t part of the gospel. It is the gospel. It’s what Jesus, Prince of Peace, called us to. It is assumed in Christianity: We are peacemakers. Yet. We can all be very violent in ways that don’t involve hitting or shooting one another. And peace is not the same as complacency. Sometimes peace involves action.

Only speak if what you have to say will add to the silence.

At this time in your life, which of these points resonates most with you?

Layers of Life

A few weeks ago, I posted the statement: “We put so much pressure on ourselves to perform—to be accepted—to earn approval—to be loved—yet, really, we are already loved…not because of our accomplishments but because of who we are.” That night, as I felt like a total failure unworthy of being loved because of my extremely poor bowling performance, I remembered this status and shook my head at the reality that I had posted it somewhat prophetically. I stopped, reminded myself of my own words, and tried to accept the fact that I wasn’t loved because of my ability to bowl average or above but because I am me.

On Monday, I posted the statement: “There are always layers of life going on around you—know which layers you can affect and work to make an impact on those—trust life’s journey and the God who created it all to take care of the rest.” This week, I have been reminded of this statement time and time again and I find myself shaking my head at the reality that I, once again, posted something prophetically.

Through texts, e-mails, chats, phone conversations, and face-to-face interactions and observations, I have been overwhelmed by the amount of hurt that people are carrying beneath their masks of holding life together: worries of physical sickness; anxieties of jobs; fears of not being good enough; grief of death, dying, and naturally fading relationships; stresses of not getting everything done; doubts of the existence of God; questions of identity and faith; feelings of intense loneliness; concerns for children and parents; pains from wounds both literal and figurative; and more.

“There are always layers of life going on around you…”

I know this. I get this. I understand this as much as I understand that we need oxygen to survive. Yet. I forget. I forget to be patient. I forget to be loving. I forget to be gracious. I forget that the world does not revolve around me. I forget to be kind because everyone I meet is “fighting a great battle.” Oh. I’m not necessarily outwardly rude—at least I hope I’m not. But my thoughts aren’t always godly and my expectations aren’t always reasonable and my tact is sometimes lacking and my release of peace isn’t always far-reaching.

So, friends, if you are reading this, know that I know that you are fighting a great battle. Whatever it is. Whatever you are fighting. Know that I know. And know that you are not alone. You are never, ever alone…

God has promised faithfulness. And God, who is community in and of Godself, has placed you on this earth in common humanity. So whatever layers of life you are living, know that you are not alone. You do not have to sort through the layers as the sole pioneer of a new frontier. As the Ecclesiast said, “There is nothing new under the sun.”

At this moment, as I write, I am breathing in all of the junk of this world—the dark, dank, stale air—and I am imagining Jesus filtering it that I can breathe out light, love, goodness, hope, joy, peace, and everything good…for you…and for all of the other people in this world who are walking with you…whoever, wherever you are…

I will keep breathing. And I will keep trying to remember what I know to be true…that there are always layers of life going on around me and I must work to make an impact where I can and to trust life’s journey and the God who created it all to take care of the rest.

I hope you will accept my forgiveness when I fail…and accept my challenge to do the same.

"Deep Awareness Of The Suffering Of Another Coupled With The Wish To Relieve It"

I believe that when we begin to understand compassion, then we begin to fully understand Jesus’ command to love God and to love our neighbor as our selves. When we begin to understand compassion, we begin to understand that God has called us to have compassion on people, not just circumstances, and when we have compassion on people then we want people to live as healthy, whole, free, God-loving, Christ-serving individuals. I believe that when we begin to understand compassion, then we stop seeing the world as us-against-them but instead as us—we—common humanity—created in God’s image and called good. And when we believe that each of us was created in God’s image and loved by God, then we begin to see all persons as those worthy of dignity and respect…and human exploitation does not treat people with dignity and respect. Therefore, we must stop it—not because we feel sorry for people—but because it is our call as compassionate followers of Christ.

Now…while I believe we should be compassionate toward people because they are people, I don’t believe that we all have to become involved in every cause known to humankind. I believe that God gives us passions and desires and that those passions and desires, coupled with life experience, guide us to where we can most effectively serve. For instance, in our office, we realized that the subject of human exploitation was too much for one person to tackle, so we broke up the areas into manageable chunks. One person focuses on sex trafficking; another on labor; another on bullying; another on pornography; and another on media and natural resource exploitation. It’s actually kind neat. When we asked everyone what they’d be most interested in working with, everyone chose something different based off of where they were in life, what they had experienced, and what they knew they could handle.

So today, some of you may be feeling an extreme amount of compassion toward people who have been bullied because you have been bullied. Some of you may feel compassion toward those who have a pornography addiction because you have one, too. Some of you may have extreme compassion for persons being hurt by land or media exploitation because you have felt the effects. And some of you may have compassion for persons involved in trafficking…because you understand the root issues and don’t ever want anyone to be held by force, fraud, or coercion. It’s okay if you’re not drawn to all of these issues. It’s okay if you’re not drawn to any! You could have extreme compassion for persons affected by poverty, those in prison, widows, the homeless, those suffering from mental illness…the list could go on. The thing is…we must do something about the compassion we feel because compassion without action is just empathy. And empathy may be fine for some things…but for others, we must act. We must act where we feel most passionate. We must act with passion. We must live with compassion.

What are some ways you can show compassion to those affected by human exploitation? Not ways you can feel sorry for people…or ways that you can feel good about helping people…but real, honest to goodness things that you can DO because you see persons as persons created in God’s image—because you want to do everything you can to redeem God’s creation and give people the chance to live wholly and freely in and with Christ?

[Blogger's Note: Two weeks ago today, I posted, “From Hyper-Functioning to Compassion.” Last Thursday, I posted, “Me and Valentine’s Day.” Both were excerpts from a talk that I gave to collegiate students on February 4th. My assignment for that talk was to talk about compassion (definition and biblical examples) and to tie it to my work with human exploitation. This excerpt was my attempt to put it all together.]

Me and Valentine's Day

I didn’t realize how much I disliked myself until my world began to unravel around Valentine’s Day 2007. I remember the date because Valentine’s Day is supposed to be a time of joy, but for me it was the beginning of a long period of darkness. Along with the depression that had been lurking for years, feelings of intense self-hate, -doubt, and -insecurity had been lingering for quite some time, but I had stuffed them deep inside and tried to cover them with work and relationships. I knew that something was wrong when I had to begin taking blood pressure medicine at age 25, but even then, though I was able to restructure some of my work habits, I didn’t stop to consider the deeper issues of why I felt the need to work so hard. The bottom line? I was ashamed of myself; therefore, I tried to hide myself by focusing on what I could do instead of who I was.

I grew up in Smalltown, USA, the youngest daughter of the preacher of the most prominent church in town. I lived in a fish bowl where all of my actions were watched, so I felt the need to be perfect. I saw how people talked about anyone who transgressed in any way and I heard how important it was to be holy, blameless, and pure. No one ever said it in so many words, yet I knew: being different and having my own thoughts was bad—it was wrong—hence I, as the good little preacher’s daughter, grew to believe that I had to do everything “right” lest I became bad and wrong as well.

I figured that if no one knew how I felt inside—that if I made perfect grades, was a leader at church, excelled in academics and music, demonstrated wisdom beyond my years—then no one would know that I felt bad and wrong. I would be accepted. I would be adequate. I would be celebrated and applauded and people would think that I was great. No one had to know that I was starving inside. No one had to know that I was miserable and desperate for companionship. No one had to know that I feared rejection and failure. No one had to know my real thoughts and beliefs.

And so I did my best to live, but I basically lived two lives—a public life and a private one. Over time, I got tired of hiding my thoughts and beliefs—which really weren’t bad, if you want to know the truth—and desired just to be me. And yet, I was afraid. I was afraid of being me. I carried such a deep sense of shame for being me that I felt bad and wrong. If anything bad happened to me, I deserved it. If anything good happened to me, it was just a fluke because…“if they only knew who I really was.” If only they knew, then they would reject me. They would think I was weird or radical. They might turn their backs on me or stab me in the back. They might not be able to see Jesus in me. If only they knew…

Around the time life began spinning out of control, I started counseling, and in counseling, I realized:

There is a disconnect between what I know to be true and what I actually live out in my life. I know that God loves me. I know that God wants me to love myself so that I can be most fully self and love people. But there’s just something inside of me that won’t allow me to fully love myself and fully embrace myself.

(struggling through tears) I am an authentic being…and a whole self. And I have to recognize what I’m feeling and how things affect me…and when I’m hurt and when I’m angry…and not always just try to feel for other people and try to make them better.



This struggle to love myself has been life-long, and it has been hard. It has led me to make many poor choices. My inability to love and have compassion for myself has caused me to question both God’s and humanity’s ability to and reason for loving me and it has profoundly affected my work and ministry—often causing me to work and act not out of a sense of call but out of a sense of the need to be wanted or needed. Yet, my inability to love myself, I believe, has given me a direct point of understanding between so much of humanity. I dare say that many people struggle to love and have compassion for themselves. Like me, they may not realize the struggle for what it is because it may lurk in the shadows of hyper-functioning. But I believe it’s there in the eyes of so many people—people who are running from themselves for whatever reason—for fear of rejection, hatred of sexuality, pain of abuse, grief of loss, heartache of confession, guilt of mistakes, yearning of acceptance, for uncertainty of call.

Somehow, in the midst of loathing myself, I developed a theology that believes that God created each one of us wonderfully and uniquely—that before we were born, God whispered into our ears who we were supposed to be and that it is our quest to live into that design while we are on this earth. I believe that the world (including parents, friends, schools, partners, and the church) tries to make us into its image but that our challenge is to live into the fullness of who God alone created us to be—just as Christ alone lived into the fullness of his being.

As a result of my journey, my desire in life is to support people on their journeys by helping them discover who they are and encouraging them to live into their gifts and passions. Just as my counselor created a safe place for me to be fully myself, I want to create a safe place for others to be fully themselves. I want to be a healthy presence at all times, in joy and in hardship, but especially when someone stops running from himself and/or God. In those moments, I want to show the love and grace and compassion that I know, now, are life-transforming. I want to hold a light in darkness, yet when light is too bright and my companion is unable to embrace its presence, I want to wait patiently until she can allow it to illuminate her life.

Valentine’s Day is marketed as a joyous day of love, but for five years, Valentine’s Season has been the marker of my spiral into darkness. Today, though, I am humbly proud to say that I can finally celebrate the Hallmark Season again without re-spiraling into darkness (I’m a Hallmark Platinum member, after all) and that I can celebrate life and love and live with the courage, strength, purpose, and compassion to help others build their lives on the Love that never fails. What an amazing journey of grace…

From Hyper-Functioning to Compassion

Over the weekend, I had the opportunity to teach college students about compassion. Five years in the making, what I shared in two one hour break-out sessions was information that has literally changed my life.

One of the key teachings and practices that have changed my life over the past few years is the teaching of self compassion. Self-compassion is extending compassion to one’s self in instances of perceived inadequacy, failure, or general suffering. There are three basic components to self-compassion: self-kindness, common humanity, and mindfulness:

Self-kindness: Being warm towards oneself when encountering pain and personal shortcomings rather than ignoring them or hurting oneself with self-criticism.

Common humanity: Recognizing that suffering and personal failure is part of the shared human experience. In short, you are not the only person who has ever felt what you are feeling. You are not alone.

Mindfulness: Taking a balanced approach to one's negative emotions so that feelings are neither suppressed nor exaggerated. Negative thoughts and emotions are observed with openness so that they are held in mindful awareness. Mindfulness is a non-judgmental, receptive mind state in which individuals observe their thoughts and feelings as they are, without trying to suppress or deny them. Conversely, mindfulness requires that one not be over-identified with mental or emotional phenomena, so that one suffers aversive reactions. This latter type of response involves narrowly focusing and ruminating on one's negative emotions.

Practicing self-compassion is a daily practice in my life, but it’s a practice that I know is part of an ever-deepening relationship with God and has allowed me to make great strides toward having a healthy view of and love for myself as one of God’s beloved creations. The following reflection more adequately speaks of this practice’s impact on my life and ministry:

The struggle to love myself as one of God’s beloved children has been life-long, and it has been hard. My natural inability to be patient with and have compassion for myself has caused me to question both God’s and humanity’s ability to and reason for loving me and it has profoundly affected my work and ministry—often causing me to work and act not out of a sense of call but out of a sense of the need to be wanted or needed. Yet, my inability to love myself, I believe, has given me a direct point of understanding between so much of humanity. I dare say that many people struggle to love and have compassion for themselves. Like me, they may not realize the struggle for what it is because it may lurk in the shadows of hyper-functioning. But I believe it’s there in the eyes of so many people—people who are running from themselves for whatever reason—for fear of rejection, hatred of sexuality, pain of abuse, grief of loss, heartache of confession, guilt of mistakes, yearning of acceptance, for uncertainty of call.

Somehow, in the midst of my darkest period of loathing myself, I developed a theology that believes that God created each one of us wonderfully and uniquely—that before we were born, God whispered into our ears who we were supposed to be and that it is our quest to live into that design while we are on this earth. I believe that the world (including parents, friends, schools, partners, and the church) tries to make us into its image—however lovely that image might be—but that our challenge is to live into the fullness of who God alone created us to be—just as Christ alone lived into the fullness of his being.

As a result of my journey, my deepest desire in life is to support people on their journeys by helping them discover who they are and encouraging them to live into their gifts and passions. Just as my counselor once created a safe place for me to be fully myself, I want to create a safe place for others to be fully themselves. I want to be a healthy presence at all times, in joy and in hardship, but especially when someone stops running from herself and/or God. In those moments, I want to show the love and grace and compassion that I know are life-transforming. I want to hold a light in darkness, yet when light is too bright and my companion is unable to embrace its presence, I want to wait patiently until she can allow it to illuminate her life. I know that I cannot magically save someone who is hurting. But I can be a child of grace, and I can only love other people until, and regardless of if ever, they learn to have Compassion for themselves.

What is one of the most profound and life-changing teachings and practices of your faith? What are some ways you experience self-compassion? And what is your deepest desire in this life?

Will You Uphold Me?

On our way back from Florida today, I finished listening to the book, “Blackwater.” In it, the main character, Brodie, plays a simple prank on two kids from his high school, yet the prank goes wrong and both kids die. Paralyzed by emotion and reality, Brodie allows his cousin—a wandering, attention seeking soul who lives for danger—to construct a lie about the events that led to the students’ deaths. As a result, Brodie and his cousin are heralded as heroes…yet the truth eats at Brodie’s soul.

One girl knows the truth, though. One girl saw what happened. In a gentle, loving way, this girl encourages Brodie to confess the truth because she knows, from experience, that hiding the truth is more difficult than living a lie. She assures Brodie that even though the truth may be difficult to speak and even though it may not be well-received, things will, in time, smooth over and telling the truth, in the end, will allow Brodie to live free. She also assures Brodie that she will support him and walk with him through whatever happens.

Eventually Brodie tells the truth. As can be expected, Brodie’s parents are devastated. They hurt for the reality of what happened but they also grieve for the weight of guilt that their son has been carrying alone.

The book ends the night before the funeral of the second student. Literally sick with regret and worry—with the knowledge that his life will never be the same—Brodie—a middle school boy—asks his parents if he can lay between them in their bed—in the place where he once felt safe. As the family lay on their backs beside one another that night—each thinking their own thoughts—the mom and dad drift to sleep...but Brodie lies restlessly awake.

Then, in one of the most profound scenes I have ever read, Brodie whispers his dad’s name. His dad immediately wakes up—the book says it’s as if the dad only half sleeps—as if he’s always listening for his name in case his son or wife need him—and says, “Yes.”

Brodie says, “Dad. Will you uphold me tomorrow?”
Brodie’s dad responds, “Son. I will uphold you tomorrow and in all the days to come.”
And then Brodie goes to sleep.

Oh dear friends…may we be like Brodie’s father (and friend) and choose to uphold one another no matter what truths are confessed or lies are constructed.

Like Brodie, I believe we’re each doing our best to survive, yet sometimes life spins out of control and leaves us gasping for air. Some days we have it all together while other days we’re lucky to survive. But oh the scary freedom of truth! Oh the knowledge that we’re all in this thing called life together! Oh the sting of consequences but the balm of grace! Oh the assurance of being loved…of feeling safe…of feeling secure…of knowing you’re going to make it…of knowing you are upheld.

“Deanna? Will you uphold me?” you may ask.
“Yes, friend.” I will answer. “I will uphold you. Today, tomorrow, and in all the days to come.”

Amen.

Project Idea: People Watching

People-watching is something you can do anytime and anywhere—as long as there are people around! In fact, people-watching is something that we’re always doing—as long as there are people around! So why not make people watching intentional?

As you move through the hustle and bustle of this holiday season, pay attention to the people around you. If you look closely, you’ll be able to see beyond shoes, clothes, hair, handbags, shopping carts, book bags, and Bibles and into a full gamut of emotions. You’ll see happiness and joy, yes. But you’ll also see anxiety, fear, sadness, loneliness, and grief. For some persons, the holidays are very difficult. They may not have presents to give or receive. They may not be promised endless supplies of food. They may not have a loving family with whom to surround themselves. Or they may be missing loved ones who have gone.

You can people-watch in a shopping mall, at school, in a grocery store, or in your church. You may even choose to people watch in your family. Pray that God will give you a spirit with which to discern emotions and wisdom to know when to speak and when to remain silent in prayer. When you begin to open yourself to what others may be feeling or experiencing, you may realize that you have a close friend or family member who really needs your love and encouragement.

Consider people-watching as a group—setting aside a period of time during which you all simply watch and pray (either alone or in pairs) and then coming together to debrief what you’ve seen (beyond crazy fashions and people picking their noses) and to brainstorm ways you can minister to any needs you have discovered.

Hallmark Movies and Dark Sides

Sometimes I think it’d be nice if life were a Hallmark movie. There would be tragedy, yes, but everything would resolve within two hours and everyone would live happily ever after. I should know. I watched at least six Hallmark movies over the weekend. It may have been eight. I lost count.

My dad called to say hey last night. He was cutting out coupons and thinking of me. As we were talking and I told him that I’d been at my apartment all weekend, he said, “Well it’s good you’ve been able to rest and have some time to yourself. But the danger in that is that it can make you feel lonely and alone.” He is exactly right. After so many hours of sleep and Hallmark movies—all of which end with the guy getting the girl or vice versa—one can begin to feel sort of lonely and alone. And when this one feels lonely and alone, her thoughts can turn very dark and unrealistic. I’m glad my dad called. And I’m glad that Iron Chef America pulled me away from the Hallmark channel.

A few weeks ago, I got Kelly Clarkson’s latest CD. The purchase was a Target impulse buy, but I’m glad I bought it because there are some good songs on the CD. One of them is called “Dark Side.” The lyrics are:

There's a place that I know
It's not pretty there and few have ever gone
If I show it to you now
Will it make you run away
Or will you stay
Even if it hurts
Even if I try to push you out
Will you return?
And remind me who I really am
Please remind me who I really am

Everybody's got a dark side
Do you love me?
Can you love mine?
Nobody's a picture perfect
But we're worth it
You know that we're worth it
Will you love me?
Even with my dark side?

Like a diamond
From black dust
It's hard to know
It can become
A few give up
So don't give up on me
Please remind me who I really am

Everybody's got a dark side
Do you love me?
Can you love mine?
Nobody's a picture perfect
But we're worth it
You know that we're worth it
Will you love me?
Even with my dark side?

Don't run away
Don't run away
Just tell me that you will stay
Promise me you will stay
Don't run away
Don't run away
Just promise me you will stay
Promise me you will stay

Will you love me?
Everybody's got a dark side
Do you love me?
Can you love mine?
Nobody's a picture perfect
But we're worth it
You know that we're worth it
Will you love me?
Even with my dark side?

I just got back from Christmas Packet Day. On the first Monday of every December, a group of us gather at a local church to finalize the packets. Packets are delivered from churches and associations from across the state, but they must be checked and stuffed with a Christmas card and scripture booklet before they are delivered. As I worked today, surrounded by both civilians and inmates, I couldn’t help but think of Kelly’s song—of Hallmark movies and loneliness—of the dark side that each of us has. And I couldn’t help but be grateful that scripture tells us that, “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for [we] are all one in Christ Jesus.”

I don’t know about you, but I’m thankful that everybody’s got a dark side—that none is better than another—that we are all connected with a common thread of humanity—and that we can live with the hope that, somehow, in the end, maybe not as easily as a Hallmark movie, Light will consume darkness and Love will prevail.

God…thanks for not giving up on us and for giving us a chance to pass on your steady love. Amen.

He Saw Them

I must confess. Every time I hear the song, “People Need The Lord,” I think of Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy. When I was a teenager, a couple in my church sang the song as special music on Sunday night and they sounded exactly like Kermit and Miss Piggy. They weren’t trying to. They were being serious. They were singing out of a genuine heart and spirit. Yet their voices just came out...well...like Jim Hinson’s characters.

And so...when I hear, “People need the Lord, People need the Lord, At the end of broken dreams, He’s the open door. People need the Lord, people need the Lord, When will we realize, People need the Lord,” I think about a cute green frog and lovely pink pig. I know, I know, it’s bad. But it’s the truth. And I needed to confess.

However, once I get passed the initial giggles that come when the song begins, I am struck by the power of the words:

Everyday they pass me by, I can see it in their eyes, Empty people filled with care, Headed who knows where? On they go through private pain, Living fear to fear. Laughter hides their silent cries, Only Jesus hears.

Wow. What a profound lyric. We are surrounded by people, day in and day out, who are hurting—struggling—experiencing private pain—being swallowed by emptiness—that most of us never take the time to see.

The speaker in chapel on Monday morning focused his message on three words: “when he saw.”

Taken from Matthew 9, the story says: 35 Jesus went through all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and healing every disease and sickness. 36 When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. 37 Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. 38 Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.”

Seeing people—really seeing them—is messy. It takes guts and courage. It takes time and energy. It is risky and demanding and often does not involve neat straight lines or nice rounded edges. It is not black and white. It is not always pretty. It often forces us to see ourselves in ways that we have tried to avoid. Yet seeing people—really seeing them—is the most beautiful act of love that we can give.

Jesus saw people. And when saw them he had compassion on them. And when he had compassion on them, he was moved to action. He was moved to proclaim the good news of God’s kingdom—God’s kingdom of light, love, and freedom—and he was moved to heal disease and sickness because the people were harassed and helpless—they were lost and in need of a shepherd—they needed someone to show them a better way.

Jesus saw people. He didn’t care if they were green or pink or couldn’t sing very well at all. He didn’t care if they were ugly or smelled bad or had played the martyr/victim every day of their lives until that point. Jesus saw people and did the messy work of loving them…

Oh God, open our eyes to see what you see, feel what you feel, and act as you act. Grant us fresh vision so that we might see how to share your life, love, forgiveness, redemption, and freedom with a people who are dying to be seen and heard and loved for who they are now and who they can be the future. Amen.