Words matter, especially when it comes to loving: there is no getting around this fact. Love is just too powerful and too important to leave mute. In the midst of one memorable marriage therapy session, I had a husband actually say to me, in front of his wife: “I said I loved her on our wedding day, and if that ever changes, I’ll let her know.” Now, before you judge this man to be a complete jerk, let me say that he is actually a good man…verbally challenged, but a good man. He did many things that communicated love to his spouse and his kids, but these acts of charity were often lost in the busyness of everyday life. Working 50 hours a week in order to provide financial stability for her, responsibly putting away money for their retirement years, and remaining faithful to his wedding vows in mind and body were all ways he believed he was communicating love. And this was true. However, relationships are strengthened when words accompany deeds.
Words clarify intentions, and don’t leave too much open to interpretation (or mis-interpretation). When you give people gifts at Christmas time, you attach a card, right? You let them know who gave them the present by signing your name. Why? Probably because you want them to know you were thinking of them, caring about them, confirming that they matter to you. You don’t typically leave a package outside the doors to their rooms or their houses and silently slip away. The gift is nice, but what matters more (and lasts longer) is that the people receiving the gifts feel loved. Don’t leave them guessing. Say the words that affirm, “I love you,” and make sure your gift is received in the spirit it was given.
Consider your family members, starting with your spouse. How does your husband or wife know you’ve loved him or her today? “I fixed dinner, “I came straight home from work instead of going out with my co-workers,” “I washed the car,” “I did the grocery shopping”: attach an “I love you” to these deeds, and clarify what they meant to you, and what your partner means to you!
“My kids know I love them.” Really, how? Because you are planning for their futures, or paying for their piano lessons, or praying for them at night after they’ve gone to bed? These can all be statements of love, true, but your kids can’t read your mind. They don’t always see the world the way you do. Their feelings are not your feelings. Don’t assume; “sign the card”.
I wish each of you a blessed Season of Miracles, and encourage you to make sure you “attach the card to the gift”…all year long!
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
For Miriam
The Holiday Season is now officially upon us, and in the next several weeks we will have built-in opportunities to practice the virtue of generosity. Quick, what comes to mind? If gift-giving was your first thought, you are not alone. And there is certainly nothing wrong with exchanging presents. But an exclusively material understanding of this virtue is to miss the essence of generosity. In fact, some of the most giving and charitable people I know have very little in the way of things. Generosity is first and last a gift of the heart.
In my clinical practice, I have had the opportunity to work with many special people who were outstanding in one way or another. But one stands out as truly memorable when I think about the virtue of generosity...I'll call her Miriam. I met her soon after she was diagnosed with cancer. Miriam told me that the doctors gave her less than a year to live, and she didn’t want that to get in the way of her life. In the weeks that followed, Miriam and I talked a lot about spirituality, and how to bring meaning out of her terminal condition. She decided that the focus for the remainder of her time on earth needed to be service to others. Although she had always been involved in one charity or another, it had been on the side. Now, she wanted her volunteerism to be front and center. A local soup kitchen in need of helpers welcomed her with open arms, and in no time her grace and selflessness began to impact everyone around her. The homeless people would find out when she was going to be working so they could come by to visit with her, and the staff began calling her “mom”.
She gave tirelessly, whether ladling soup, washing dishes, encouraging diners, or counseling other volunteers about relationships. As time passed, Miriam began to grow weaker, but she insisted that she wanted to continue. So the organization arranged for her to be picked up at her apartment, and placed several recliner chairs around the facility so that she had a place to rest wherever she was in the building. I was told by several of her co-workers that Miriam never stopped smiling, never stopped asking others about their lives, and never stopped talking about how fortunate she had been in her life.
What the staff didn’t know was that Miriam was the survivor of a violent childhood and a horribly abusive marriage, and had fewer material possessions than most of the homeless people she fed and cared for. Her generosity elevated Miriam to a level of goodness, of greatness, most could never have dreamed of before meeting her.
And I have no doubt that when she did at last walk through the gates of Heaven on that bright December afternoon, nearly ten years ago now, the angels bowed in admiration.
I wish all of you a blessed Holiday Season, a season full of generosity that begins and ends in the heart.
In my clinical practice, I have had the opportunity to work with many special people who were outstanding in one way or another. But one stands out as truly memorable when I think about the virtue of generosity...I'll call her Miriam. I met her soon after she was diagnosed with cancer. Miriam told me that the doctors gave her less than a year to live, and she didn’t want that to get in the way of her life. In the weeks that followed, Miriam and I talked a lot about spirituality, and how to bring meaning out of her terminal condition. She decided that the focus for the remainder of her time on earth needed to be service to others. Although she had always been involved in one charity or another, it had been on the side. Now, she wanted her volunteerism to be front and center. A local soup kitchen in need of helpers welcomed her with open arms, and in no time her grace and selflessness began to impact everyone around her. The homeless people would find out when she was going to be working so they could come by to visit with her, and the staff began calling her “mom”.
She gave tirelessly, whether ladling soup, washing dishes, encouraging diners, or counseling other volunteers about relationships. As time passed, Miriam began to grow weaker, but she insisted that she wanted to continue. So the organization arranged for her to be picked up at her apartment, and placed several recliner chairs around the facility so that she had a place to rest wherever she was in the building. I was told by several of her co-workers that Miriam never stopped smiling, never stopped asking others about their lives, and never stopped talking about how fortunate she had been in her life.
What the staff didn’t know was that Miriam was the survivor of a violent childhood and a horribly abusive marriage, and had fewer material possessions than most of the homeless people she fed and cared for. Her generosity elevated Miriam to a level of goodness, of greatness, most could never have dreamed of before meeting her.
And I have no doubt that when she did at last walk through the gates of Heaven on that bright December afternoon, nearly ten years ago now, the angels bowed in admiration.
I wish all of you a blessed Holiday Season, a season full of generosity that begins and ends in the heart.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Sharing the Rough Draft
In marriage, we are constantly having internal dialogues about our spouses and our marriage. “I think my wife is mad at me because I didn’t ask her about her day?” “I feel my husband is bored with me because I see him yawn all the time.” “I wonder if our marriage is as strong as the Jones’?” Our thoughts and our feelings give us an initial “read” on a given situation, something like a rough draft, but these assumptions are often untested. Is this absolute fact, or is it just something I think or feel to be true?
Too often this “rough draft” bounces around in our heads and hearts, but doesn’t get voiced until we’re often pretty far down the road toward a conclusion. Maybe we don’t share because we’re too busy, maybe it’s because we’re afraid of what’s really going on, and maybe we keep our internal dialogues to ourselves because we’re insecure about possibly needing anything. Whatever the reason, it’s dangerous. We’re practicing emotionally isolating behavior that slowly kills intimacy. Fears creep in, and we become increasingly likely to behave toward our spouses as if our assumptions are actual realities. And guess what, our spouses are going to be pretty confused!
Even if the assumptions we carry about our marriages or our beloveds are positive ones, we still need to be bringing our spouses into the “conversation” because anything good should be shared and celebrated.
So often therapy is about getting clients to relate to one other instead of untested, false assumptions about each other. Over time these false assumptions have been left to harden over the months and even years like concrete. Thus, it takes much work to chisel away the layers of defensiveness and get to the truth. So much pain and loneliness could have been avoided if the rough drafts had been “read” out loud, brought into the light. “I feel like you don’t care about me as much as you do the kids.” “I believe you only want to spend time with me if you think we’re going to have sex.” “You’re disappointed in me because I don’t make more money, right?” “I think you come home late because you prefer to be at work.” Say it!
Your thoughts and feelings are very important. They give you meaningful information about who you are and where you’ve been, but they are not always an accurate read on life going on around you. Your thoughts and feelings are not infallible….even when it comes to your spouse and your marriage. You may believe that because you’ve known your partner for a long time, your intuition is bound to be accurate. Maybe it is, but test it first! Share what’s in your head, share what’s in your heart…early and often. “Let me read my rough draft to you.” “How does it sound so far?” “Am I on track, or is my conclusion faulty?”
But don’t just stop at reading the rough draft of your thoughts and feelings out loud to your spouse; edit, revise, re-write! The final draft is yours, but it should include plenty of feedback from you partner.
Too often this “rough draft” bounces around in our heads and hearts, but doesn’t get voiced until we’re often pretty far down the road toward a conclusion. Maybe we don’t share because we’re too busy, maybe it’s because we’re afraid of what’s really going on, and maybe we keep our internal dialogues to ourselves because we’re insecure about possibly needing anything. Whatever the reason, it’s dangerous. We’re practicing emotionally isolating behavior that slowly kills intimacy. Fears creep in, and we become increasingly likely to behave toward our spouses as if our assumptions are actual realities. And guess what, our spouses are going to be pretty confused!
Even if the assumptions we carry about our marriages or our beloveds are positive ones, we still need to be bringing our spouses into the “conversation” because anything good should be shared and celebrated.
So often therapy is about getting clients to relate to one other instead of untested, false assumptions about each other. Over time these false assumptions have been left to harden over the months and even years like concrete. Thus, it takes much work to chisel away the layers of defensiveness and get to the truth. So much pain and loneliness could have been avoided if the rough drafts had been “read” out loud, brought into the light. “I feel like you don’t care about me as much as you do the kids.” “I believe you only want to spend time with me if you think we’re going to have sex.” “You’re disappointed in me because I don’t make more money, right?” “I think you come home late because you prefer to be at work.” Say it!
Your thoughts and feelings are very important. They give you meaningful information about who you are and where you’ve been, but they are not always an accurate read on life going on around you. Your thoughts and feelings are not infallible….even when it comes to your spouse and your marriage. You may believe that because you’ve known your partner for a long time, your intuition is bound to be accurate. Maybe it is, but test it first! Share what’s in your head, share what’s in your heart…early and often. “Let me read my rough draft to you.” “How does it sound so far?” “Am I on track, or is my conclusion faulty?”
But don’t just stop at reading the rough draft of your thoughts and feelings out loud to your spouse; edit, revise, re-write! The final draft is yours, but it should include plenty of feedback from you partner.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Patriotism
The Virtue of Patriotism
Like millions of others I watched with joy as the miracle rescue of the Chilean miners unfolded last week. For 69 days these men were trapped under 2,000 feet of rock. And they survived. And a nation rejoiced…and the world rejoiced right along with them.
So many stirring images, so much courage, and faith, and love, and will to live. Funny how these fundamental virtues can unite so many. But the virtue that was perhaps missed in all the celebrating was the virtue of Patriotism.
Patriotism is a virtue? Indeed! St. Thomas Aquinas considered it “a duty one owes” to country, recognizing the good provided by, and the universal ideals supported through, a nation…always worth sacrificing for.
What a moment, listening to President Sebastian Pinera tell the miners, “You are not the same, and the country is not the same after this,” and then spontaneously leading the crowd in the singing of the Chilean national anthem. This was Patriotism in its purest form. Everyone, rich and poor, educated and uneducated, respectful of individual differences, and focused on the celebrating of what is best about one’s country, and what is best about humankind. Pride isn’t always a deadly sin!
Patriotism is too often confused with ultra-nationalism, which starts with a condescending “we’re better than you” attitude, and ends up dividing and alienating. Patriotism as a virtue rises above politics, and superficial slogans, and 15 second sound bites, and honors what is best, what is good and true, what is worth living and dying for, and what is worthy of emulation in one’s country.
What is worthy of emulation? Virtue. Heroic efforts at being good, courageous, generous, kind, patient. You’ll know an act is truly patriotic, virtuous, and not just political, when both the person and his or her country is made better by it. And when people and countries do good, the world becomes a better place.
I think I became Chilean for a brief time last week, watching those beautiful people singing their national anthem, celebrating life and all the ways their country supported life. And I’m a better American for it.
Like millions of others I watched with joy as the miracle rescue of the Chilean miners unfolded last week. For 69 days these men were trapped under 2,000 feet of rock. And they survived. And a nation rejoiced…and the world rejoiced right along with them.
So many stirring images, so much courage, and faith, and love, and will to live. Funny how these fundamental virtues can unite so many. But the virtue that was perhaps missed in all the celebrating was the virtue of Patriotism.
Patriotism is a virtue? Indeed! St. Thomas Aquinas considered it “a duty one owes” to country, recognizing the good provided by, and the universal ideals supported through, a nation…always worth sacrificing for.
What a moment, listening to President Sebastian Pinera tell the miners, “You are not the same, and the country is not the same after this,” and then spontaneously leading the crowd in the singing of the Chilean national anthem. This was Patriotism in its purest form. Everyone, rich and poor, educated and uneducated, respectful of individual differences, and focused on the celebrating of what is best about one’s country, and what is best about humankind. Pride isn’t always a deadly sin!
Patriotism is too often confused with ultra-nationalism, which starts with a condescending “we’re better than you” attitude, and ends up dividing and alienating. Patriotism as a virtue rises above politics, and superficial slogans, and 15 second sound bites, and honors what is best, what is good and true, what is worth living and dying for, and what is worthy of emulation in one’s country.
What is worthy of emulation? Virtue. Heroic efforts at being good, courageous, generous, kind, patient. You’ll know an act is truly patriotic, virtuous, and not just political, when both the person and his or her country is made better by it. And when people and countries do good, the world becomes a better place.
I think I became Chilean for a brief time last week, watching those beautiful people singing their national anthem, celebrating life and all the ways their country supported life. And I’m a better American for it.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Who are you listening to?
Lucille Ball was dismissed from a drama class, with the penetrating insight: “She’s wasting her time here. She’s too shy to put her best foot forward.”
A brand new band calling themselves The Beatles was rejected by the first recording company they approached. The reasons given? “We don’t like their sound. And besides, guitar music is on the way out.”
Abraham Lincoln had two failed businesses, suffered a nervous breakdown, experienced the death of his fiancé, and lost eight elections.
Michael Jordan was cut from his Freshman high school basketball team.
Thomas Edison was told by a teacher that he was “too stupid to learn anything.”
Walt Disney was fired from a newspaper job because, as the termination report read, “He lacks imagination and has no original ideas.”
The longer I live, the more I realize that people who succeed in life are people who are courageous enough to risk failure and loss, and are able to pick themselves up and get back in the race when they inevitably do get knocked down; they persevere.
And a critical part of risking failure and persevering in our efforts, of persisting in the face of obstacles and creating something beautiful with the gifts we’ve been given is who we choose to listen to. Which voices do we filter out, and which voices do we let in?
How do we do this discerning? Start with a simple rule of thumb: spend more and more time with life-giving people, and less and less time with life-taking people. Too simple? I’m amazed at how many people don’t follow this advice. There is confusion about responsibility (“I must spend time with this person, respect this person, take care of this person”), or history (“It’s not always bad”), or even what it means to be a good person (“I shouldn’t be angry, sad, tired, happy”). Crazy? No, just fear-based. The people you surround yourself with, and let in, can absolutely make you or break you. Choose life!
You’ll know the life-giving people because they will foster hope, see potential, and celebrate you as you are. They will work diligently to not separate truth and love. They will not project their fears onto you. They will not project their pain onto you. And they will not project their dreams onto you. And life-giving people are interested in mutual, respectful, joyful friendships. Beware of people who have no joy…they will resent yours.
Who do you listen to? Whose opinions do you hear…and take in? Are they encouraging, engaging, and elevating to the spirit? Choose well, listen well, and then follow your inspiration…you’ll change the world!
A brand new band calling themselves The Beatles was rejected by the first recording company they approached. The reasons given? “We don’t like their sound. And besides, guitar music is on the way out.”
Abraham Lincoln had two failed businesses, suffered a nervous breakdown, experienced the death of his fiancé, and lost eight elections.
Michael Jordan was cut from his Freshman high school basketball team.
Thomas Edison was told by a teacher that he was “too stupid to learn anything.”
Walt Disney was fired from a newspaper job because, as the termination report read, “He lacks imagination and has no original ideas.”
The longer I live, the more I realize that people who succeed in life are people who are courageous enough to risk failure and loss, and are able to pick themselves up and get back in the race when they inevitably do get knocked down; they persevere.
And a critical part of risking failure and persevering in our efforts, of persisting in the face of obstacles and creating something beautiful with the gifts we’ve been given is who we choose to listen to. Which voices do we filter out, and which voices do we let in?
How do we do this discerning? Start with a simple rule of thumb: spend more and more time with life-giving people, and less and less time with life-taking people. Too simple? I’m amazed at how many people don’t follow this advice. There is confusion about responsibility (“I must spend time with this person, respect this person, take care of this person”), or history (“It’s not always bad”), or even what it means to be a good person (“I shouldn’t be angry, sad, tired, happy”). Crazy? No, just fear-based. The people you surround yourself with, and let in, can absolutely make you or break you. Choose life!
You’ll know the life-giving people because they will foster hope, see potential, and celebrate you as you are. They will work diligently to not separate truth and love. They will not project their fears onto you. They will not project their pain onto you. And they will not project their dreams onto you. And life-giving people are interested in mutual, respectful, joyful friendships. Beware of people who have no joy…they will resent yours.
Who do you listen to? Whose opinions do you hear…and take in? Are they encouraging, engaging, and elevating to the spirit? Choose well, listen well, and then follow your inspiration…you’ll change the world!
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Peacemakers are not blessed because they are other-worldly, avoid confrontations, spend all day in church praying, and never get angrythey are blessed because they are finally at rest in God. St. Augustine put it simply: “God, You have created us for Yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.” The meek are able to be peacemakers because they are first at peace with God; peace with self and others follows. This peace is the fruit of cooperating on ever deeper levels with God’s will and remaining open to His healing grace. Peacemakers echo the words of St. Paul: “I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through Him who gives me strength” (Philippians 4:12-13). Paul did not write these words from some ivory tower, safe and comfortable as a professor at some small liberal arts college. He wrote about the contentment of being at peace with God from a dark, dank prison cell in Rome while awaiting execution. In his life, he suffered much for the Kingdom of God: stonings, beatings, shipwrecks, physical ailments, murderous plots, and eventually martyrdom. But this is the power of meekness, withstanding all the world can dish out while allowing God’s supernatural healing to be unleashed in and through your life. It truly does surpass human understanding, and it can be yours as it was Paul’s, but only with Christ’s help. The story of Corrie Ten Boom, told in The Hiding Place, demonstrates this well.
As a young woman in Holland, she and her family used their home to hide Jews from the Nazi occupiers. When finally discovered, the Ten Booms were sent to Concentration camps, Corrie and her sister Betsie specifically to Ravensbruck. Corrie would survive the hell but her sister would not. Years later, as an internationally-renowned speaker, Corrie traveled far and wide speaking about the love of God and Christ’s ability to transform even the greatest of sinners. But her ability to be a peacemaker, to practice meekness in the face of anger, was put to the test one Sunday after she spoke at a church in Germany. One of the Nazis who had stood guard at the shower room door in the processing room at Ravensbruck approached her smiling and reaching out his hand toward her. “How grateful I am for your message, Fraulein; to think that as you say He has washed my sins away.” The horror of the camp, the taunting of the men, the pain and fear all came rushing back in an instant. Corrie tried to respond with charity, but anger paralyzed her. Silently she breathed a prayer: “Jesus, I cannot forgive him. Give me Your forgiveness” (p. 238). Ten Boom explained that in an instant she was given the grace to see that healing was not contingent on human ability to forgive or love, but on God’s ability to forgive and love. She took the former Nazi’s hand and gave him her blessing. God will give us what we need, if we cry out to Him for assistance. He tells us to love our enemies, and then gives us the love to do it.
The meek shall inherit the earth and the peacemakers shall be called the children of God because they rest in the Prince of Peace. And they bring His message of reconciliation to an angry and hurting world, whatever the cost.
What can you do today to be a peacemaker: in your home, at your work place, and in your heart? Simple acts of kindness, gentleness, goodness; think small, get started, and ask God to bless and mutiply. You'll be changed, and so will the world.
As a young woman in Holland, she and her family used their home to hide Jews from the Nazi occupiers. When finally discovered, the Ten Booms were sent to Concentration camps, Corrie and her sister Betsie specifically to Ravensbruck. Corrie would survive the hell but her sister would not. Years later, as an internationally-renowned speaker, Corrie traveled far and wide speaking about the love of God and Christ’s ability to transform even the greatest of sinners. But her ability to be a peacemaker, to practice meekness in the face of anger, was put to the test one Sunday after she spoke at a church in Germany. One of the Nazis who had stood guard at the shower room door in the processing room at Ravensbruck approached her smiling and reaching out his hand toward her. “How grateful I am for your message, Fraulein; to think that as you say He has washed my sins away.” The horror of the camp, the taunting of the men, the pain and fear all came rushing back in an instant. Corrie tried to respond with charity, but anger paralyzed her. Silently she breathed a prayer: “Jesus, I cannot forgive him. Give me Your forgiveness” (p. 238). Ten Boom explained that in an instant she was given the grace to see that healing was not contingent on human ability to forgive or love, but on God’s ability to forgive and love. She took the former Nazi’s hand and gave him her blessing. God will give us what we need, if we cry out to Him for assistance. He tells us to love our enemies, and then gives us the love to do it.
The meek shall inherit the earth and the peacemakers shall be called the children of God because they rest in the Prince of Peace. And they bring His message of reconciliation to an angry and hurting world, whatever the cost.
What can you do today to be a peacemaker: in your home, at your work place, and in your heart? Simple acts of kindness, gentleness, goodness; think small, get started, and ask God to bless and mutiply. You'll be changed, and so will the world.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Growing Up: The Virtue of Being Family
The family is the heart of our society, of civilization itself. This has always been the case in every culture and every country throughout history. Nothing has a greater influence over an individual than the family unit...not school, not profession, not even church or synagogue. The family of origin, that is the family we are born into, gives us our blueprint for how to see and interact with self, others, life, and God. Family is our first teacher. This is not to say we need to be controlled by our pasts. Certainly healing and growth can happen at any stage of life, but as long as we live we will be interacting with our original families, if not face-to-face at least in our hearts and minds.
Being a family is so much more than simple genetics, or living together under one roof, or eating a certain amount of meals together, or sharing a common history, or even sharing a last name. Being family does not happen accidentally, it must be chosen...multiple times a day. We choose to be family when we make concrete decisions, big and small, with what we say or don't say, do or don't do, think or don't think, feel or don't feel.
Being a family is so much more than simple genetics, or living together under one roof, or eating a certain amount of meals together, or sharing a common history, or even sharing a last name. Being family does not happen accidentally, it must be chosen...multiple times a day. We choose to be family when we make concrete decisions, big and small, with what we say or don't say, do or don't do, think or don't think, feel or don't feel.
- We choose to be family when we love each other in word and deed
- We choose to be family when we teach our children right and wrong, and hold ourselves to the same objective standard
- We choose to be family when we listen to each other at least as much as we speak to each other
- We choose to be family when we reach outside of ourselves and serve others
- We choose to be family when we celebrate the uniqueness of each individual family member
- We choose to be family when we play together, laugh together, and celebrate Sabbath together
Being family is a process that must become habitual...that's why I'm calling it a virtue. And good habits take time to form. Practice, practice, practice...with little and big acts, growing in consistency, intentional and freely given. It's not always easy, and it's not always fun. A healthy family recognizes this, and chooses to make the investment of time, energy, and spirit anyway.
There is nothing more important on a natural level than truly practicing the virtue of being family, and as we ask God into this process, to bless and guide our efforts, the results become sacramental. Get started (or re-started) tonight. You'll be glad a thousand years from now that you did!
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
The Virtue Project
Stillpoint Family Resources is very excited to announce that The Virtue Project, in development for over a year, is ready to "take on the road." There are five modules to this practical, engaging, and empowering Character Formation program that integrates psychology with theology and philosophy: 1) The Believer, 2) The Couple, 3) The Family, 4) The Parent, 5) The Teen.
Please pray for this work, for the speaking engagements we're already booking, and for future opportunities! And let us know if you'd like more information!
Please pray for this work, for the speaking engagements we're already booking, and for future opportunities! And let us know if you'd like more information!
Saturday, August 14, 2010
To What End....
St. Maximillian Kolbe, a Franciscan priest, died 69 years ago this day in a starvation bunker at Auschwitz. His is a remarkable story of courage and love.
Because he was a Catholic priest confronting evil, the Nazis arrested him and sent him to the concentration camp. In July 1941, a man from Kolbe's barracks vanished, prompting the deputy camp commander to pick 10 men from the same barracks to be starved to death in order to deter further escape attempts. One of the selected men, Franciszek Gajowniczek, cried out, "My wife, my children!" It was then that Kolbe volunteered to take his place. No greater love....
After three weeks, all the men in the starvation bunker had died except for Father Kolbe. Finally losing patience with the process, the guards gave him a lethal shot of carbolic acid to finish the job....as if death could silence such a life. Roughly 40 years later, at the canonization ceremony for St. Maximillian, Gajowniczek (the man Kolbe had volunteered to die for) was present and spoke.
Maximillian Kolbe is an obvious example of what we would call a martyr. But as I sat in church this morning, I began reflecting on what he'd say if he was preaching the homily. My serious hunch is that he'd focus on what the word martyr means..."witness."
What does your life witness to? What does it say about your beliefs and values? How much time do you spend reflecting on your actions, your choices, your relationships, and where you're headed in life? And to what end? What's the point? Intentionality is crucial in the practice of virtue....like a compass is to a ship on the open sea.
Kolbe certainly knew what his purpose was, and he lived with a razor sharp focus. "Only love creates..." And if he were here today, I believe he'd challenge each of us to be creative in this way; to get outside ourselves and serve. To love in action. And as a Franciscan, he'd also tell us to do it in simple and small ways. Choose to do 1,000 things 1% better...
This is the way of transformation. This is where true and lasting joy will be found, where action meets purpose....and where peace and salvation wait.
Because he was a Catholic priest confronting evil, the Nazis arrested him and sent him to the concentration camp. In July 1941, a man from Kolbe's barracks vanished, prompting the deputy camp commander to pick 10 men from the same barracks to be starved to death in order to deter further escape attempts. One of the selected men, Franciszek Gajowniczek, cried out, "My wife, my children!" It was then that Kolbe volunteered to take his place. No greater love....
After three weeks, all the men in the starvation bunker had died except for Father Kolbe. Finally losing patience with the process, the guards gave him a lethal shot of carbolic acid to finish the job....as if death could silence such a life. Roughly 40 years later, at the canonization ceremony for St. Maximillian, Gajowniczek (the man Kolbe had volunteered to die for) was present and spoke.
Maximillian Kolbe is an obvious example of what we would call a martyr. But as I sat in church this morning, I began reflecting on what he'd say if he was preaching the homily. My serious hunch is that he'd focus on what the word martyr means..."witness."
What does your life witness to? What does it say about your beliefs and values? How much time do you spend reflecting on your actions, your choices, your relationships, and where you're headed in life? And to what end? What's the point? Intentionality is crucial in the practice of virtue....like a compass is to a ship on the open sea.
Kolbe certainly knew what his purpose was, and he lived with a razor sharp focus. "Only love creates..." And if he were here today, I believe he'd challenge each of us to be creative in this way; to get outside ourselves and serve. To love in action. And as a Franciscan, he'd also tell us to do it in simple and small ways. Choose to do 1,000 things 1% better...
This is the way of transformation. This is where true and lasting joy will be found, where action meets purpose....and where peace and salvation wait.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
"One Man's Trash...."
Antique stores are hopeful places; places that believe in second chances. They accept what others have thrown away, given up on, discarded as un-useable, because they see the potential that remains. Recently, I found myself in a dusty and well-stocked one named "One Man's Trash...", an hommage to the saying, "One man's trash is another man's treasure." This store had a little of everything, from automobile parts, to farming and gardening equipment, to knick-knacks and artwork found in everyday households. I struck up a conversation with the older gentleman who owned the store, wondering what he enjoyed most about the antiques business. "I believe that everything can be used again, and nothing needs to be wasted," he said with a contented smile. "I love that notion." Me too.
Everything can be useful, and nothing need be wasted; sounds a little like St. Paul's counsel to the Church at Rome. How much healthier we, and our relationships, would be if this philosphy were truly embraced in mind and heart, and lived out daily? And most particularly in relationship with an inexhaustibly merciful God?!
God can and does use everything to help us grow up emotionally and spiritually, if you'll invite Him into your own personal "antique store," where there are many things that can be re-purposed, renewed, and restored with the right amount of care and attention.
The parts of our lives we're tempted to bury or hide out of shame and guilt are precisely the parts God wants to use to keep us focused on Him, and the path that leads to Life. And He is never put off or scandalized by our imperfections. Does He care if we lie, cheat, steal, gossip, abuse substances, and rebel in any number of other ways? Of course He does, because He loves us and wants the best for us. But through it all, He never stops loving us and calling us back to what is most essential, to what is true.
In all things God works for good, and He loves unconditionally. If He didn't, the manger in Bethlehem and the Cross at Golgotha would never have happened. Through our mistakes, and heartfelt acknowledgement of those mistakes, He promises to teach, to empower, and to inspire us to virtue, and to lasting peace and joy. However, all too often this reclamation project of turning "trash into treasure" is blocked by us, stalling growth and trust in self and others.
And when you're thinking of blocks to healthy and holy living, start with pride. Pride is the Queen of the Deadly Sins for a reason. It was the original sin, and all sins grow from it. It has infected humankind ever since Eden. Pride convinces us that we can do it alone, that we don't need others, that perhaps we're even better than others. Pride also tells us that how we look to others is more important than who we are. So, the great cover up begins in earnest.
Isolation is the fruit of pride. And isolation kills.
Brokenness is an essential part of our inheritance as fallen human beings, but it does not need to be our destiny. God uses everything, but we must first choose to invite Him into the mess, the chaos, the "trash." Give everything to Him: your regrets and fears, your envy and resentments, all those mistakes you feel are too terrible to admit to. Ask for help, and then move on the resources He'll send: emotional, relational, and spiritual. Do this today...and again tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and so on....because the antique store of your soul must remain open for business, and you need to show up for work every day!
"Trash to treasure"...the ultimate recycling plan!
Everything can be useful, and nothing need be wasted; sounds a little like St. Paul's counsel to the Church at Rome. How much healthier we, and our relationships, would be if this philosphy were truly embraced in mind and heart, and lived out daily? And most particularly in relationship with an inexhaustibly merciful God?!
God can and does use everything to help us grow up emotionally and spiritually, if you'll invite Him into your own personal "antique store," where there are many things that can be re-purposed, renewed, and restored with the right amount of care and attention.
The parts of our lives we're tempted to bury or hide out of shame and guilt are precisely the parts God wants to use to keep us focused on Him, and the path that leads to Life. And He is never put off or scandalized by our imperfections. Does He care if we lie, cheat, steal, gossip, abuse substances, and rebel in any number of other ways? Of course He does, because He loves us and wants the best for us. But through it all, He never stops loving us and calling us back to what is most essential, to what is true.
In all things God works for good, and He loves unconditionally. If He didn't, the manger in Bethlehem and the Cross at Golgotha would never have happened. Through our mistakes, and heartfelt acknowledgement of those mistakes, He promises to teach, to empower, and to inspire us to virtue, and to lasting peace and joy. However, all too often this reclamation project of turning "trash into treasure" is blocked by us, stalling growth and trust in self and others.
And when you're thinking of blocks to healthy and holy living, start with pride. Pride is the Queen of the Deadly Sins for a reason. It was the original sin, and all sins grow from it. It has infected humankind ever since Eden. Pride convinces us that we can do it alone, that we don't need others, that perhaps we're even better than others. Pride also tells us that how we look to others is more important than who we are. So, the great cover up begins in earnest.
Isolation is the fruit of pride. And isolation kills.
Brokenness is an essential part of our inheritance as fallen human beings, but it does not need to be our destiny. God uses everything, but we must first choose to invite Him into the mess, the chaos, the "trash." Give everything to Him: your regrets and fears, your envy and resentments, all those mistakes you feel are too terrible to admit to. Ask for help, and then move on the resources He'll send: emotional, relational, and spiritual. Do this today...and again tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and so on....because the antique store of your soul must remain open for business, and you need to show up for work every day!
"Trash to treasure"...the ultimate recycling plan!
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Controlled Burn
A few years ago I had the opportunity to hike in the beautiful, emerald forests surrounding Lake Tahoe for the first time, but midway through I was surprised to wander upon dozens and dozens of what appeared to be funeral pyres dotting the hillsides; dry brush and splintered tree limbs gathered together and neatly stacked in piles, waiting to be set ablaze in controlled burns the forestry service systematically conducts every autumn. These stacks of debris were, in some cases, only a few yards away from 100 foot pines and I couldn’t help but reflect on the control the firefighters have to have over these fires they intentionally set, to keep the burns from becoming an infernal nightmare. It is well known that to not clear space and remove excess flammable material would be to limit the sustained growth of the forest, and set the region up for a major disaster. The inherent risk of controlled burns is essential for long-term safety. To lower this risk, of course, the forestry service is very careful to choose what they burn, where they burn, and when they burn.
Anger is something like fire, burning white-hot with intensity and power. It can be used for illumination and warmth, and to clear away the emotional and spiritual debris getting in the way of healthy growth in a marriage. Or, it can be permitted to burn out of control, destroying anything and everything in its path and leaving a trail of death in its wake. As a clinical psychologist, I’m actually concerned when I hear a couple say that they never fight, and never get angry with each other. This isn’t real, and is sure evidence that at least one person in the relationship is hiding. Human beings step on toes while dancing, and occasionally stomping, through life. Even when we’re not trying to be hurtful, it’s just a matter of time, and when the hurt comes the burn of anger is soon to follow. Fine, as long as these burns are “controlled.” Like the forestry service preparing for life-sustaining burns in the mountains, time and place is critical.
Fighting in front of others, in public view, is the emotional and spiritual equivalent of the forestry firemen randomly setting anything they see that’s brown on fire, and choosing the windiest, driest day to do the burn. I’m not talking about the moments where disagreements spring up in the course of conversation. A husband and wife might disagree about any number of different issues ranging in importance, and still “contain the burn” in public by staying sensitive to tone of voice, level of anger and hurt, amount of time the disagreement is allowed to run, and the reactions of those around them. Before too long, a neutral statement like, “Let’s talk more about this later”, or “I guess we can agree to disagree” is offered and accepted. No, I’m talking here about the fighting that doesn’t have boundaries.
Think of the last time you were at a family gathering, or double dating, or just sitting in a public space, and you observed two people fighting. It may have had a loud and emotionally violent quality to it, it may have been cutting and sarcastic, and it may have been chillingly quiet, but you felt the toxicity in the air and probably wanted to head in the opposite direction as quickly as possible. It’s incredibly uncomfortable to be around. Fighting in public is rude and selfish, with the implied message being, “Our problem is more important than your peace.” It chokes community and friendship. Specific to your marriage, when you fight in public you disrespect yourself, your spouse, and the very marriage vows you made.
You won’t always like the person you’re married to, and sometimes that dislike may even tempt you to hurt the one you love publicly, but don’t let that push you beyond appropriate social limits. If you do give in, trust in yourself and your partner will erode, and the cancer of disdain grows. Fight, but be careful to choose where, when, and how. Otherwise, you could be setting a forest fire in your marriage that does irreparable damage.
Anger is something like fire, burning white-hot with intensity and power. It can be used for illumination and warmth, and to clear away the emotional and spiritual debris getting in the way of healthy growth in a marriage. Or, it can be permitted to burn out of control, destroying anything and everything in its path and leaving a trail of death in its wake. As a clinical psychologist, I’m actually concerned when I hear a couple say that they never fight, and never get angry with each other. This isn’t real, and is sure evidence that at least one person in the relationship is hiding. Human beings step on toes while dancing, and occasionally stomping, through life. Even when we’re not trying to be hurtful, it’s just a matter of time, and when the hurt comes the burn of anger is soon to follow. Fine, as long as these burns are “controlled.” Like the forestry service preparing for life-sustaining burns in the mountains, time and place is critical.
Fighting in front of others, in public view, is the emotional and spiritual equivalent of the forestry firemen randomly setting anything they see that’s brown on fire, and choosing the windiest, driest day to do the burn. I’m not talking about the moments where disagreements spring up in the course of conversation. A husband and wife might disagree about any number of different issues ranging in importance, and still “contain the burn” in public by staying sensitive to tone of voice, level of anger and hurt, amount of time the disagreement is allowed to run, and the reactions of those around them. Before too long, a neutral statement like, “Let’s talk more about this later”, or “I guess we can agree to disagree” is offered and accepted. No, I’m talking here about the fighting that doesn’t have boundaries.
Think of the last time you were at a family gathering, or double dating, or just sitting in a public space, and you observed two people fighting. It may have had a loud and emotionally violent quality to it, it may have been cutting and sarcastic, and it may have been chillingly quiet, but you felt the toxicity in the air and probably wanted to head in the opposite direction as quickly as possible. It’s incredibly uncomfortable to be around. Fighting in public is rude and selfish, with the implied message being, “Our problem is more important than your peace.” It chokes community and friendship. Specific to your marriage, when you fight in public you disrespect yourself, your spouse, and the very marriage vows you made.
You won’t always like the person you’re married to, and sometimes that dislike may even tempt you to hurt the one you love publicly, but don’t let that push you beyond appropriate social limits. If you do give in, trust in yourself and your partner will erode, and the cancer of disdain grows. Fight, but be careful to choose where, when, and how. Otherwise, you could be setting a forest fire in your marriage that does irreparable damage.
Friday, June 18, 2010
How are you looking?
When we first bought our house several years ago, there was a great deck in our backyard. From a distance it looked attractive, sturdy, functional. But as one got closer, it was clear that the deck was sagging in places. And standing on it confirmed that it was structurally unsound and needed to be torn down. I think of that old deck when I think of the deadly sin of envy.
“Envy rots the bones,” says the author of Proverbs. What an image! Of all the deadly sins it is the most pathetic, and arguably the most common. St. Thomas Aquinas defined it as “sorrow at another’s good.” Pathetic. Envy is the only deadly sin without even a moment of gratification. And it typically begins very early in life, as one feels an increasing sense of inecurity and competition with those around him or her: for love, for attention, for acceptance. Life for the soul struggling with envy is a series of competitions, and the envious always feels one-down....and is in fact collapsing at a foundational level, emotionally and spiritually.
But as deadly as envy is, it can be helpful in letting us know what we value most and this awareness can be the beginning of healing. Envying another’s good looks may tell us that we put too much importance on physical beauty. Envying a house, a boat, or a car, may be an indication that we base too much of our self-worth on material objects. Envying someone’s popularity may be a clue that we have not been good friends to others, or even to ourselves. Envy can help us take stock of our lives, and re-prioritize our values. The word envy comes from the Latin "invidere", which means "to look askance." Thus, it is in how we look at others, their talents, material possessions, and/or moral virtues that must be carefully considered. Envy focuses one’s vision on the negative aspects of life. The envious, with eyes narrowed, look for faults in others and opportunities to minimize their virtues and successes. This bitter disposition will eventually consume the envious person’s entire world if not challenged. This is why Spenser presents Envy riding atop a ravenous wolf in his pageant of the deadly sins, with venom dripping from its mouth. “For where you have envy and selfish ambition, there you find disorder and every evil practice” (James 3:16).
Recently, I heard about an inspiring incident that occurred at a Special Olympics track meet. A group of mentally and physically challenged children lined up for the 100-yard dash, and when the starter’s gun sounded they were off toward the finish line, running for the gold medal. About ten yards into the race, one little boy tripped and fell. As he lay in the dust crying one of his competitors, a little girl with Down syndrome, heard him. She slowed, stopped, and then turned and went back to see how he was. One by one every runner in the race joined her, encircling the fallen athlete. The little boy was kissed, consoled, and encouraged to get up and rejoin the race. Then, as the stunned crowd looked on, all ten runners spontaneously grasped hands and ran the race together, crossing the finish line at the same time.
Charity, like envy, has everything to do with how one sees the race, the competition, and the prize.
“Envy rots the bones,” says the author of Proverbs. What an image! Of all the deadly sins it is the most pathetic, and arguably the most common. St. Thomas Aquinas defined it as “sorrow at another’s good.” Pathetic. Envy is the only deadly sin without even a moment of gratification. And it typically begins very early in life, as one feels an increasing sense of inecurity and competition with those around him or her: for love, for attention, for acceptance. Life for the soul struggling with envy is a series of competitions, and the envious always feels one-down....and is in fact collapsing at a foundational level, emotionally and spiritually.
But as deadly as envy is, it can be helpful in letting us know what we value most and this awareness can be the beginning of healing. Envying another’s good looks may tell us that we put too much importance on physical beauty. Envying a house, a boat, or a car, may be an indication that we base too much of our self-worth on material objects. Envying someone’s popularity may be a clue that we have not been good friends to others, or even to ourselves. Envy can help us take stock of our lives, and re-prioritize our values. The word envy comes from the Latin "invidere", which means "to look askance." Thus, it is in how we look at others, their talents, material possessions, and/or moral virtues that must be carefully considered. Envy focuses one’s vision on the negative aspects of life. The envious, with eyes narrowed, look for faults in others and opportunities to minimize their virtues and successes. This bitter disposition will eventually consume the envious person’s entire world if not challenged. This is why Spenser presents Envy riding atop a ravenous wolf in his pageant of the deadly sins, with venom dripping from its mouth. “For where you have envy and selfish ambition, there you find disorder and every evil practice” (James 3:16).
Recently, I heard about an inspiring incident that occurred at a Special Olympics track meet. A group of mentally and physically challenged children lined up for the 100-yard dash, and when the starter’s gun sounded they were off toward the finish line, running for the gold medal. About ten yards into the race, one little boy tripped and fell. As he lay in the dust crying one of his competitors, a little girl with Down syndrome, heard him. She slowed, stopped, and then turned and went back to see how he was. One by one every runner in the race joined her, encircling the fallen athlete. The little boy was kissed, consoled, and encouraged to get up and rejoin the race. Then, as the stunned crowd looked on, all ten runners spontaneously grasped hands and ran the race together, crossing the finish line at the same time.
Charity, like envy, has everything to do with how one sees the race, the competition, and the prize.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Thank you, Coach....
Funny the things that come to mind when you hear that someone you knew has died.
I knew John Wooden in passing. He was friends with my father, and he was gracious enough to accept the Humanitas Award at our second Stillpoint Family Resources Gala. A week before the event, I had the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to meet with him at his home in Encino. He graciously autographed a basketball for our auction, and then chatted with me for about thirty minutes. I left knowing that I had been in the presence of greatness.
He'd spoken about basketball, but also about poetry, philosophy, and faith. The man was profound, and I was transfixed. Toward the end of our meeting, I was able to mumble that I'd had the privilege of attending four of his summer basketball camps, and how much I'd enjoyed them. He smiled and asked me if I remembered the drills. I did, actually. But what I remembered more had nothing to do with basketball.
I remember how Coach was with his wife. As a boy of eight, I noticed how he responded when he'd see her arrive at the camp. He seemed to explode with joy. This sports immortal, the "Wizard of Westwood", greatest coach in the history of college basketball (and maybe all of basketball), totally and unabashedly joyful about his wife. She'd enter the cafeteria and he'd get up, go to her, embrace her, and usher her to his table where they seemed to have a date...at least that's what it felt like. In the middle of a noisy cafeteria, at a basketball camp for kids, they were alone. I was eight and I noticed. What does that tell you about the power of their love?
John Wooden wasn't a great man because he won a lot of basketball games. He was great because he loved. He loved God, he loved learning, he loved people, he loved basketball, and he especially loved his wife. I smile to think that John and Nellie are finally together again tonight, forever.
Requiescat in pace, Coach. Thank you for teaching about what matters most.
I knew John Wooden in passing. He was friends with my father, and he was gracious enough to accept the Humanitas Award at our second Stillpoint Family Resources Gala. A week before the event, I had the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to meet with him at his home in Encino. He graciously autographed a basketball for our auction, and then chatted with me for about thirty minutes. I left knowing that I had been in the presence of greatness.
He'd spoken about basketball, but also about poetry, philosophy, and faith. The man was profound, and I was transfixed. Toward the end of our meeting, I was able to mumble that I'd had the privilege of attending four of his summer basketball camps, and how much I'd enjoyed them. He smiled and asked me if I remembered the drills. I did, actually. But what I remembered more had nothing to do with basketball.
I remember how Coach was with his wife. As a boy of eight, I noticed how he responded when he'd see her arrive at the camp. He seemed to explode with joy. This sports immortal, the "Wizard of Westwood", greatest coach in the history of college basketball (and maybe all of basketball), totally and unabashedly joyful about his wife. She'd enter the cafeteria and he'd get up, go to her, embrace her, and usher her to his table where they seemed to have a date...at least that's what it felt like. In the middle of a noisy cafeteria, at a basketball camp for kids, they were alone. I was eight and I noticed. What does that tell you about the power of their love?
John Wooden wasn't a great man because he won a lot of basketball games. He was great because he loved. He loved God, he loved learning, he loved people, he loved basketball, and he especially loved his wife. I smile to think that John and Nellie are finally together again tonight, forever.
Requiescat in pace, Coach. Thank you for teaching about what matters most.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
In the beginning....
“Whatever did not fit in with my plan did lie within the plan of God.”
-St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross
I remember the call like it was yesterday. It woke me from this wonderful dream about my beautiful wife and my brand new, perfectly healthy son. "We need you to come back to the hospital. We believe your son has some genetic issues we need to discuss with you and your wife." The pediatrician sounded like she was a million miles away. Of course she was already distancing herself emotionally...what news to have to give to a first-time father who six hours earlier was sent home with the promise that everything was fine.
The doctor gave the phone to Jenni, without telling her anything about "genetic issues". "Ross, what's going on?" All I could mumble was, "I’ll be there in twenty minutes and we'll figure it all out." I hung up the phone and collapsed into a chair. Figure it all out? The doctor was talking about Down syndrome. I don’t know how I knew, but I didn't even have to ask. My head started to swim, and my breathing suddenly became very shallow. I tried to tell myself that the doctors could be wrong, and that there was no way two healthy young parents could have a child with Down syndrome. Besides, throughout the entire pregnancy none of the screens or ultrasounds had picked up any sign of problems. This couldn’t be.
But as I sat there in our kitchen, looking out at the start of a bright sunny day, I knew that the doctors were not wrong, and that two healthy young parents could have a Down’s baby, and that not all screenings and ultrasounds pick up irregularities in a pregnancy. Most of all, I was overwhelmed by the realization that my life had just taken a sharp turn and that nothing would ever be the same again. John Michael Porter, miracle, mystery, perfect gift of God was born with strawberry-blonde hair, blue eyes, and 47 chromosomes. In addition, he had two major heart malformations and needed his first heart procedure at three days old to save his life. Over the next two years, he would have pneumonia and two more open-heart surgeries. If John Michael had been born twenty years earlier, he would not have survived one week. The technology that saved his life had not yet been developed.
I know without a doubt that I would be a very different person if I had lost my baby boy. I would still believe deep down that giftedness was best defined by I.Q. tests, and the formula for success was a good education coupled with a high paying job, and that “retarded” people couldn’t be teachers. I’ve found that this is the worldview of most people in our society…especially if they haven’t experienced the beauty of a special needs person face-to-face, and heart to heart. People who carry this bias are not bad, they’re just mistaken…like I was mistaken for the first thirty years of my life.
Some lessons can only be taught in the context of a relationship.
Tomorrow, May 31st, the Feast Day of the Visitation, our John Michael turns 16 years-old. The little boy Jenni and I had baptized at 16 hours old, because we thought it would be the last thing we could do for him before he returned to God, is about to turn 16. Amazing. My heart is so full of gratitude for the gift of his life, and for the gifts all our special needs children are. But my heart is also heavy, knowing how frighteningly few of these precious children are even given the chance to live, to love, and to change the world around them with their smiles, and hugs, and innocence.
Please join me in praying for those who are, or will become, pregnant with special needs children; that they are able to see with eyes of faith the gift they've been given, and that they will receive the support they need to embrace life. Because if they choose life, they will be changed forever...and the world will be a better place.
And thank you John Michael for being my hidden grace, my greatest teacher, my heart. You're daddy loves you beyond words.
-St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross
I remember the call like it was yesterday. It woke me from this wonderful dream about my beautiful wife and my brand new, perfectly healthy son. "We need you to come back to the hospital. We believe your son has some genetic issues we need to discuss with you and your wife." The pediatrician sounded like she was a million miles away. Of course she was already distancing herself emotionally...what news to have to give to a first-time father who six hours earlier was sent home with the promise that everything was fine.
The doctor gave the phone to Jenni, without telling her anything about "genetic issues". "Ross, what's going on?" All I could mumble was, "I’ll be there in twenty minutes and we'll figure it all out." I hung up the phone and collapsed into a chair. Figure it all out? The doctor was talking about Down syndrome. I don’t know how I knew, but I didn't even have to ask. My head started to swim, and my breathing suddenly became very shallow. I tried to tell myself that the doctors could be wrong, and that there was no way two healthy young parents could have a child with Down syndrome. Besides, throughout the entire pregnancy none of the screens or ultrasounds had picked up any sign of problems. This couldn’t be.
But as I sat there in our kitchen, looking out at the start of a bright sunny day, I knew that the doctors were not wrong, and that two healthy young parents could have a Down’s baby, and that not all screenings and ultrasounds pick up irregularities in a pregnancy. Most of all, I was overwhelmed by the realization that my life had just taken a sharp turn and that nothing would ever be the same again. John Michael Porter, miracle, mystery, perfect gift of God was born with strawberry-blonde hair, blue eyes, and 47 chromosomes. In addition, he had two major heart malformations and needed his first heart procedure at three days old to save his life. Over the next two years, he would have pneumonia and two more open-heart surgeries. If John Michael had been born twenty years earlier, he would not have survived one week. The technology that saved his life had not yet been developed.
I know without a doubt that I would be a very different person if I had lost my baby boy. I would still believe deep down that giftedness was best defined by I.Q. tests, and the formula for success was a good education coupled with a high paying job, and that “retarded” people couldn’t be teachers. I’ve found that this is the worldview of most people in our society…especially if they haven’t experienced the beauty of a special needs person face-to-face, and heart to heart. People who carry this bias are not bad, they’re just mistaken…like I was mistaken for the first thirty years of my life.
Some lessons can only be taught in the context of a relationship.
Tomorrow, May 31st, the Feast Day of the Visitation, our John Michael turns 16 years-old. The little boy Jenni and I had baptized at 16 hours old, because we thought it would be the last thing we could do for him before he returned to God, is about to turn 16. Amazing. My heart is so full of gratitude for the gift of his life, and for the gifts all our special needs children are. But my heart is also heavy, knowing how frighteningly few of these precious children are even given the chance to live, to love, and to change the world around them with their smiles, and hugs, and innocence.
Please join me in praying for those who are, or will become, pregnant with special needs children; that they are able to see with eyes of faith the gift they've been given, and that they will receive the support they need to embrace life. Because if they choose life, they will be changed forever...and the world will be a better place.
And thank you John Michael for being my hidden grace, my greatest teacher, my heart. You're daddy loves you beyond words.
Friday, May 14, 2010
A thing of the heart
When one speaks of courage, images that jump to mind are of heroic action: the first responders on 9/11, a teen-aged St. Joan of Arc leading the army of France into battle, the soldiers who stormed the beaches at Normandy. Certainly these are all outstanding examples, but can also lead people to believe that courage only happens on the largest of stages, with lives in the balance. We miss the full beauty of this virtue if we don't recognize that courage is just as fully presented in the "little things"...victories that can't be quantified. Victories that can only be measured by the heart.
In fact, the word Courage comes from the Latin for "Heart". Courage takes the "thought" to do good, and puts it into action. To resist giving in to obstacles, and to take positive action...that's courage.
And there was plenty of courage, heart, on display yesterday at the Chaminade College Preparatory baseball diamond.
My dear friend and colleague Joe Sikorra was there with his son John. John is blind, and struggling with the devastating effects of Batten disease, a neurodegenerative disorder. But his dream has always been to play high school baseball. He's been on the team as a "coach" this year, but that wasn't enough. He wanted to hit, and he wanted to run, and he wanted to score.
So, yesterday at the start of the game, the manager chose John to be the leadoff hitter. The visiting team took the field, honoring the moment with their cooperation. A ball tee was placed at home plate, and Joe led John to it...and then stood back and let him swing for the fences. And did he ever! As John, led by his father, rounded the bases the crowd rose and cheered, a boy's dream was realized, and this weary world seemed just a bit brighter.
Courage. It's the virtue of battlefields and burning buildings. But yesterday it was also the virtue of a high school baseball diamond, when a beautiful young man running short on time and his proud father grabbed hands and together charged past fear, and indifference, and passivity and into an immortal moment that all of Heaven cheered...along with a couple of hundred people on earth.
In fact, the word Courage comes from the Latin for "Heart". Courage takes the "thought" to do good, and puts it into action. To resist giving in to obstacles, and to take positive action...that's courage.
And there was plenty of courage, heart, on display yesterday at the Chaminade College Preparatory baseball diamond.
My dear friend and colleague Joe Sikorra was there with his son John. John is blind, and struggling with the devastating effects of Batten disease, a neurodegenerative disorder. But his dream has always been to play high school baseball. He's been on the team as a "coach" this year, but that wasn't enough. He wanted to hit, and he wanted to run, and he wanted to score.
So, yesterday at the start of the game, the manager chose John to be the leadoff hitter. The visiting team took the field, honoring the moment with their cooperation. A ball tee was placed at home plate, and Joe led John to it...and then stood back and let him swing for the fences. And did he ever! As John, led by his father, rounded the bases the crowd rose and cheered, a boy's dream was realized, and this weary world seemed just a bit brighter.
Courage. It's the virtue of battlefields and burning buildings. But yesterday it was also the virtue of a high school baseball diamond, when a beautiful young man running short on time and his proud father grabbed hands and together charged past fear, and indifference, and passivity and into an immortal moment that all of Heaven cheered...along with a couple of hundred people on earth.
Friday, April 23, 2010
The Tiger You Know...
Are you familiar with the saying, “The tiger you know is better than the tiger you don’t know?” It originated in India, with townspeople that lived on the edge of jungles inhabited by tigers. Inevitably, a tiger would wander out of the jungle and through the town, looking for food. This was certainly an immediate danger, but over time the town got to know the tiger’s habits, his routines, and when he would come calling. They chose not to kill the tiger, because they knew that another would soon replace it, and bring new habits they were unfamiliar with. This new tiger would be more dangerous than the old because the new one would be unpredictable.
This “settling mentality” may be the right strategy for Indian towns dealing with tiger problems, but it is a slow death for marriages, a quitting that is just as final as a divorce.
Marriages get into ruts, and stay in ruts for many reasons, but at the core is a fear of change. We are always free to make changes, adaptations in our marriages, big and small. True, our freedom is not unlimited but there are always choices…always. However, there will invariably arise a serious temptation to deny this personal freedom, and give excuses for why we must remain stuck.
Anxiety comes with all change, because change brings us face to face with possibility, with the great unknown, with new challenges and responsibilities. And anxiety is an uncomfortable feeling to say the least. It may sound crazy but many marriages stall, and remain stalled, because relative dissatisfaction is seen as preferable to all that potential healing and growth would bring. “True, I’m not wonderfully happy, but it could be worse.” The tiger you know…
Spring is the season of new beginnings. See if now isn't the right time to re-discover why you first chose each other. What first drew you to each other, and what you origninally fell in love about....and begin that wonderful process of falling in love all over again!
This “settling mentality” may be the right strategy for Indian towns dealing with tiger problems, but it is a slow death for marriages, a quitting that is just as final as a divorce.
Marriages get into ruts, and stay in ruts for many reasons, but at the core is a fear of change. We are always free to make changes, adaptations in our marriages, big and small. True, our freedom is not unlimited but there are always choices…always. However, there will invariably arise a serious temptation to deny this personal freedom, and give excuses for why we must remain stuck.
Anxiety comes with all change, because change brings us face to face with possibility, with the great unknown, with new challenges and responsibilities. And anxiety is an uncomfortable feeling to say the least. It may sound crazy but many marriages stall, and remain stalled, because relative dissatisfaction is seen as preferable to all that potential healing and growth would bring. “True, I’m not wonderfully happy, but it could be worse.” The tiger you know…
Spring is the season of new beginnings. See if now isn't the right time to re-discover why you first chose each other. What first drew you to each other, and what you origninally fell in love about....and begin that wonderful process of falling in love all over again!
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Facing Pain
"There is no coming to consciousness without pain." -Carl Jung
Jung is right, of course. There is no coming to consciousness, no "waking up to reality" if you will without pain. Whether it arrives physically, emotionally, or spiritually, pain will come knocking. C.S. Lewis once said, "God whispers to us in our pleasure and shouts to us in our pain." This is reality, this is life on planet earth. Lots of wonderful, beautiful, fun, loving experiences, but always with a pinch of pain tossed into the mix here and there (and sometimes even more than just here and there). This is not Heaven.
The point of this life is to learn how to love and grow up, to help others learn to love and grow up, and to prepare for eternity. This doesn't happen without pain. Sure wish it did, but it doesn't.
But as someone who feels pain, as someone who works with people in pain all the time, and as someone who (like millions of others around the world) is trying to embrace all that is Holy Week, simply feeling pain is not enough.
People in pain can be quite dangerous, destructive, crazed...like wounded animals. They have not come to "consciousness," to awareness and mindfulness. Or maybe they have, and concluded that objective reality is not what they're willing or able to embrace.
What do we do with pain when it comes? This is the key question. Do we pretend like we don't feel it? Do we get busy, compulsive, frantic with activity? Do we isolate? Do we go to war against real or perceived enemies (anger is a popular hiding place for those attempting to manage pain)?
Or do we feel, and bring the pain into relationship with trusted others (asking for accountability, guidance, support, and love). Feel, and work to place the pain in a larger context of meaning and purpose (what can be learned about the world, human nature, and all that I have to be grateful for?). Feel, and choose to let the pain educate us about where we need to grow up (immaturity, entitlements, and illusions). Feel, and choose to purify, mortify the parts of us that need to die (pride, sloth, greed...shoot, just choose your own favorite deadly sin and insert here)?
Life is difficult. Pain is inevitable. No use denying. So let's learn what we can, seize the opportunity for transformation, face reality as head-on as possible, stay connected to life-giving people and institutions, and recognize that the pain we feel (however debilitating, terrifying, crushing, or maddening) is only part of the much larger reality of our lives. Let's not hide... for our sakes, for the sakes of our loved ones, and for the sake of this hurting world. Because if we can summon enough courage to live in truth, pain will not have the final word. And resurrection will become much more than a theory.
Jung is right, of course. There is no coming to consciousness, no "waking up to reality" if you will without pain. Whether it arrives physically, emotionally, or spiritually, pain will come knocking. C.S. Lewis once said, "God whispers to us in our pleasure and shouts to us in our pain." This is reality, this is life on planet earth. Lots of wonderful, beautiful, fun, loving experiences, but always with a pinch of pain tossed into the mix here and there (and sometimes even more than just here and there). This is not Heaven.
The point of this life is to learn how to love and grow up, to help others learn to love and grow up, and to prepare for eternity. This doesn't happen without pain. Sure wish it did, but it doesn't.
But as someone who feels pain, as someone who works with people in pain all the time, and as someone who (like millions of others around the world) is trying to embrace all that is Holy Week, simply feeling pain is not enough.
People in pain can be quite dangerous, destructive, crazed...like wounded animals. They have not come to "consciousness," to awareness and mindfulness. Or maybe they have, and concluded that objective reality is not what they're willing or able to embrace.
What do we do with pain when it comes? This is the key question. Do we pretend like we don't feel it? Do we get busy, compulsive, frantic with activity? Do we isolate? Do we go to war against real or perceived enemies (anger is a popular hiding place for those attempting to manage pain)?
Or do we feel, and bring the pain into relationship with trusted others (asking for accountability, guidance, support, and love). Feel, and work to place the pain in a larger context of meaning and purpose (what can be learned about the world, human nature, and all that I have to be grateful for?). Feel, and choose to let the pain educate us about where we need to grow up (immaturity, entitlements, and illusions). Feel, and choose to purify, mortify the parts of us that need to die (pride, sloth, greed...shoot, just choose your own favorite deadly sin and insert here)?
Life is difficult. Pain is inevitable. No use denying. So let's learn what we can, seize the opportunity for transformation, face reality as head-on as possible, stay connected to life-giving people and institutions, and recognize that the pain we feel (however debilitating, terrifying, crushing, or maddening) is only part of the much larger reality of our lives. Let's not hide... for our sakes, for the sakes of our loved ones, and for the sake of this hurting world. Because if we can summon enough courage to live in truth, pain will not have the final word. And resurrection will become much more than a theory.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
World Down Syndrome Day
HAPPY WORLD DOWN SYNDROME DAY TODAY - 3/21 is World Down Syndrome Day. The date was chosen because it points to the third chromosome that attaches to the 21st, causing Trisomy 21, or Down syndrome.
Why do we celebrate this day? Because it is a chance to recognize the giftedness and beauty of our Down syndrome children, and the eternally significant lessons they teach with their very beings. In a larger, deeper sense, though, we should also be celebrating this day because it makes a statement about the inherent value of human life...every human life.
Thank you God for our John Michael, the inspiration for so much including Stillpoint Family Resources. And thank you God for all special needs persons. Our world is a kinder, gentler place because of them.
Why do we celebrate this day? Because it is a chance to recognize the giftedness and beauty of our Down syndrome children, and the eternally significant lessons they teach with their very beings. In a larger, deeper sense, though, we should also be celebrating this day because it makes a statement about the inherent value of human life...every human life.
Thank you God for our John Michael, the inspiration for so much including Stillpoint Family Resources. And thank you God for all special needs persons. Our world is a kinder, gentler place because of them.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Attaching the card to the gift
Words matter, especially when it comes to loving: there is no getting around this fact. Love is just too powerful and too important to leave mute. In the midst of one memorable marriage therapy session, I had a husband actually say to me, in front of his wife: “I said I loved her on our wedding day, and if that ever changes, I’ll let her know.” Now, before you judge this man to be a complete jerk, let me say that he is actually a good man…verbally challenged, but a good man. He did many things that communicated love to his spouse and his kids, but these acts of charity were often lost in the busyness of everyday life. Working 50 hours a week in order to provide financial stability for her, responsibly putting away money for their retirement years, and remaining faithful to his wedding vows in mind and body were all ways he believed he was communicating love. And this was true. However, relationships are strengthened when words accompany deeds.
Words clarify intentions, and don’t leave too much open to interpretation (or mis-interpretation). When you give people gifts during the Holidays, you attach a card, right? You let them know who gave them the present by signing your name. Why? Probably because you want them to know you were thinking of them, caring about them, confirming that they matter to you. You don’t typically leave a package outside the doors to their rooms or their houses and silently slip away. The gift is nice, but what matters more (and lasts longer) is that the people receiving the gifts feel loved. Don’t leave them guessing. Say the words that affirm, “I love you,” and make sure your gift is received in the spirit it was given.
Consider your family members, starting with your spouse. How does your husband or wife know you’ve loved him or her today? “I fixed dinner, “I came straight home from work instead of going out with my co-workers,” “I washed the car,” “I did the grocery shopping”: attach an “I love you” to these deeds, and clarify what they meant to you, and what your partner means to you!
“My kids know I love them.” Really, how? Because you are planning for their futures, or paying for their piano lessons, or praying for them at night after they’ve gone to bed? These can all be statements of love, true, but your kids can’t read your mind. And even if they could, there is still something deeply formative about hearing you affirm their preciousness. They don’t always see the world the way you do. Their feelings are not your feelings. Don’t assume; “sign the card”.
Words clarify intentions, and don’t leave too much open to interpretation (or mis-interpretation). When you give people gifts during the Holidays, you attach a card, right? You let them know who gave them the present by signing your name. Why? Probably because you want them to know you were thinking of them, caring about them, confirming that they matter to you. You don’t typically leave a package outside the doors to their rooms or their houses and silently slip away. The gift is nice, but what matters more (and lasts longer) is that the people receiving the gifts feel loved. Don’t leave them guessing. Say the words that affirm, “I love you,” and make sure your gift is received in the spirit it was given.
Consider your family members, starting with your spouse. How does your husband or wife know you’ve loved him or her today? “I fixed dinner, “I came straight home from work instead of going out with my co-workers,” “I washed the car,” “I did the grocery shopping”: attach an “I love you” to these deeds, and clarify what they meant to you, and what your partner means to you!
“My kids know I love them.” Really, how? Because you are planning for their futures, or paying for their piano lessons, or praying for them at night after they’ve gone to bed? These can all be statements of love, true, but your kids can’t read your mind. And even if they could, there is still something deeply formative about hearing you affirm their preciousness. They don’t always see the world the way you do. Their feelings are not your feelings. Don’t assume; “sign the card”.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
The Fruit of Love
Love is dynamic: it is always in motion, always impacting, always expanding. It cannot be contained! A sure sign that a family is loving in word and deed is that they don’t just love each other: they reach outside of their home and love those around them. Mother Teresa of Calcutta put it this way, “The fruit of love is service.” This service to God’s family will necessarily take you beyond your comfort zone, beyond where you’d travel if it was just about you and yours. Service, empowered by love, will be inclusive, because God’s love is inclusive and it is He Who is ultimately loving through us.
I recall that a tradition of my family growing up was to adopt a family at Christmas time through our Church. My mother would always organize this event, and I admit that at the time I didn’t grasp the full significance of this annual ritual. Frankly, at 46 years-old I’m still processing the meaning: love, and the fruit it bears, is a great mystery. The first few years, I mostly experienced our adopt-a-family project as a disruption to my weekend plans. After all, this process took a little time, asked me to get outside myself for a few hours, and didn’t seem to provide any tangible benefits…not terribly compelling for a typical teenager. We’d all go shopping for food and toys as a family, and then deliver the goods to our church where someone else would drive the gifts to the adopted family. But one December my mother, God bless her, decided we were going to deliver this taste of Christmas in person…as a family. I remembered feeling uneasy as we drove up to a dimly lit apartment building, in a neighborhood I had never ventured anywhere close to. A cheerful mother answered the door and invited us in. Before the rest of us could think of an excuse, my mother was saying thank you and moving through the threshold. There were at least ten people in this little two-bedroom apartment, a mix of children and adults: three generations of family sharing a new start in a foreign land. I couldn’t believe how crowded it all seemed, and how happy these beautiful souls appeared.
When I arrived back home that night, I sat in my room reflecting on the life that surrounded me…all the goodness and blessing…and it looked a little different. Like tectonic plates moving miles below the surface of the earth, slowly reverberating up until an earthquake is eventually experienced at ground level, the impact of that evening took time to consciously reach me, but I still feel the impact today some twenty-five years later. Antoine de Saint-Exupery said, “Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking together in the same direction.” That direction needs to eventually be outward.
We need to be of service to those outside our own families. We need to learn to give to those less fortunate then we are, not because of their poverty but because of ours. God understands perfectly our tendencies to become too self-involved, too insulated from the larger family of humankind, too self-congratulatory in our private realities. This society we are a part of has become alarmingly divided, splintered, alienated: we have too often forgotten who we are and who we are meant to be. This is why He calls us to action.
The family that truly loves will follow the lead of Love right out the front door of the home, and into the big wide world. It will love in the spirit of the Good Samaritan, who sacrificed for his neighbor even when his neighbor was supposedly a sworn enemy. It will love in the spirit of the religious family of the Sisters of Charity around the world, who like their little Albanian foundress find people of all religions and races in muddy gutters, and dark alleys, and all kinds of wretched squalor, and joyfully care for them. And it will love in the spirit of my mother, who challenged her family time and again to move beyond the limits of comfort toward greater meaning and purpose.
Happy Valentine's Day....let's try to live the spirit of the day in word and deed all year round!
I recall that a tradition of my family growing up was to adopt a family at Christmas time through our Church. My mother would always organize this event, and I admit that at the time I didn’t grasp the full significance of this annual ritual. Frankly, at 46 years-old I’m still processing the meaning: love, and the fruit it bears, is a great mystery. The first few years, I mostly experienced our adopt-a-family project as a disruption to my weekend plans. After all, this process took a little time, asked me to get outside myself for a few hours, and didn’t seem to provide any tangible benefits…not terribly compelling for a typical teenager. We’d all go shopping for food and toys as a family, and then deliver the goods to our church where someone else would drive the gifts to the adopted family. But one December my mother, God bless her, decided we were going to deliver this taste of Christmas in person…as a family. I remembered feeling uneasy as we drove up to a dimly lit apartment building, in a neighborhood I had never ventured anywhere close to. A cheerful mother answered the door and invited us in. Before the rest of us could think of an excuse, my mother was saying thank you and moving through the threshold. There were at least ten people in this little two-bedroom apartment, a mix of children and adults: three generations of family sharing a new start in a foreign land. I couldn’t believe how crowded it all seemed, and how happy these beautiful souls appeared.
When I arrived back home that night, I sat in my room reflecting on the life that surrounded me…all the goodness and blessing…and it looked a little different. Like tectonic plates moving miles below the surface of the earth, slowly reverberating up until an earthquake is eventually experienced at ground level, the impact of that evening took time to consciously reach me, but I still feel the impact today some twenty-five years later. Antoine de Saint-Exupery said, “Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking together in the same direction.” That direction needs to eventually be outward.
We need to be of service to those outside our own families. We need to learn to give to those less fortunate then we are, not because of their poverty but because of ours. God understands perfectly our tendencies to become too self-involved, too insulated from the larger family of humankind, too self-congratulatory in our private realities. This society we are a part of has become alarmingly divided, splintered, alienated: we have too often forgotten who we are and who we are meant to be. This is why He calls us to action.
The family that truly loves will follow the lead of Love right out the front door of the home, and into the big wide world. It will love in the spirit of the Good Samaritan, who sacrificed for his neighbor even when his neighbor was supposedly a sworn enemy. It will love in the spirit of the religious family of the Sisters of Charity around the world, who like their little Albanian foundress find people of all religions and races in muddy gutters, and dark alleys, and all kinds of wretched squalor, and joyfully care for them. And it will love in the spirit of my mother, who challenged her family time and again to move beyond the limits of comfort toward greater meaning and purpose.
Happy Valentine's Day....let's try to live the spirit of the day in word and deed all year round!
Friday, January 29, 2010
Reverie and rosemary bread....
“Earth is crammed with heaven, and every common bush afire with God…” -E.B. Browning
For the Porter family, Friday nights have become synonymous with dining at Nicola’s Kitchen, a friendly little neighborhood restaurant that our kids love. They love being recognized by the waitresses, they love the familiar surroundings, and they love the bread. Nicola’s makes this warm rosemary bread, and serves it as a wonderful appetizer. John Michael, in particular, likes it and for him it is the dinner. On one occasion, a family friend joined us for this Friday night meal and was soon enthralled with the way John- John was eating his bread; gently, lovingly, and with great joy. “Look at how into the bread he is; it’s like a religious experience for him.”
If we had only observed John Michael in this state of reverie while eating at Nicola’s we could easily explain it as him enjoying his favorite food, end of story. But we see John Michael enraptured by simple things all the time, certainly enough to say that this is one of his gifts. He has a remarkable ability to live fully in the moment, a moment most of us miss in our rush to get on with the "important" issues of life. And in these given moments, filled with simple things, he is able to identify and accept the gifts God offers there. This all occurs in the course of everyday activities because God wants us to see, and hear, and understand in a certain way.
He wants us to value what the powers of this world have deemed insignificant and small. These blessed moments carry glimpses into eternity…of peace, love, communion, and everlasting happiness…and remind us of how close Heaven is to us all the time. They appear in many different contexts because God likes variety. Time of day or night is irrelevant because they come from outside time. Location is inconsequential as well because all of His created world is sacred. God is always reaching out to us, calling to us, showing us His reality. We are all sent these moments, kairos moments, moments that are not measured chronologically because they cannot be measured at all. How can one quantify things of the Spirit? These moments, and what they bring, ultimately escape words. One can talk about the felt experience, but descriptions fall short in the end. Mystics and poets would agree.
In a world that lives too often for the moment, with a grabbing-and-hoarding orientation, John Michael’s gift of receptivity in the moment stands out. Heaven has begun on earth for him. Antoine de Saint-Exupery, in The Little Prince, wrote, “It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” While those of us who are not special needs (in medical terms, anyway) see with our eyes, John Michael sees with his heart. He has an intuitive knowing about what is essential in life, and is not distracted by the things that God has not deemed truly important.
Recently, a friend was sharing with me his deep concerns about whether his son would be accepted at his alma mater Yale University. As I listened, I found myself thinking about all the issues I’m anxious about: ‘Is this person upset with me?’ ‘Did the audience truly like my speech or were they just being polite?’ ‘How will I afford college tuitions for my children?’ ‘Will the Stock market rebound?’ These concerns matter on some level, but are they really worth the amount of time and energy I give them? It can be easy to shrug off what others might consider anxiety provoking, but consider for a moment what the anxieties are in your life…the concerns that jerk you out of the present moment and either throw you back into the past, or catapult you into the future? Jesus promised that God would care for all the needs of His children. How much do we believe this? How differently would we live if we really believed it deep down in the depths of our souls? And I wonder about John Michael, who will not be applying to Yale University, does not worry about whether someone is saying nice things about him, will not need to pay for his children’s college tuitions, and doesn’t even know what the Stock Market is. What, if anything, is he anxious about? He doesn’t have the vocabulary to tell me explicitly, but his behavior tells me that anxiety is not a burden for him.
True, his medical diagnosis places him in a different category than you and me. But if we believe what our faith tells us, we don’t have to be Down syndrome to live as freely as my son does. John John’s secret lies in his commitment to living in the moment, and enjoying the simple things God gives him there. I can almost hear the echo of St. Paul writing to the Church at Philippi from his dark, dank prison cell in Rome, while he waited for his certain execution: “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances…”
John Michael enjoys ecstatic moments over more than bread; a gentle breeze caressing his face, bright lights on a Christmas tree, a grape flavored popsicle, dappled sunlight kissing him through a canopy of trees, a prayer being recited in church, and raindrops dancing around him in the garden. His eyes may widen or close, he may sit silently and motionless, head titled slightly back, or jump up and down in place, giggling and waving his hands in joy. He has many more facial expressions than words, but during these times he’ll occasionally say, “God power,” or “beautiful”, or “church people.” I so wish I could see what he sees, know what he knows. My son seems to be taken into a world of wonder, through a portal I can’t recognize until he’s through it. I feel like I’m a step behind him because I’m moving too fast. He’s with me, but not. Then, he’s back and the moment is gone. There is no short-cut technique that could force open the door; his entry ticket is his way of being. He just is…and these moments come with remarkable regularity for him. I wonder if they come for all of us and we just aren’t paying enough attention? How different would our lives be if we lived with sensitivity, and openness, and respect for the simple things? What if we weren’t so busy; busy being productive but not fruitful; important but not meaningful; pious but not holy; successful but not faithful; knowledgeable but not wise. Would heart attacks and cancer be such epidemics? Would we constantly be on the brink of war, as individuals and as a nation? Would people still be dying of starvation in our own cities? Would the earth be so polluted? There is so much to attend to, but how much of it is eternally significant…and how much do we miss? I think the holy often wears the ordinary as a disguise.
God comes to us in and through the natural world. He is the God that guides with a pillar of cloud by day, and a column of fire by night. He is the God of the burning bush and the rushing wind. He leaves His fingerprints on sunrises and sunsets, points the way with a star, chooses birth in a stable, baptizes with water, heals with mud, and gives Himself to us in bread and wine. Why, then, should it come as any surprise that He would use a Down syndrome boy who experiences a taste of Paradise in rosemary bread to teach a seminary graduate about the deeper issues of faith…and life?
For the Porter family, Friday nights have become synonymous with dining at Nicola’s Kitchen, a friendly little neighborhood restaurant that our kids love. They love being recognized by the waitresses, they love the familiar surroundings, and they love the bread. Nicola’s makes this warm rosemary bread, and serves it as a wonderful appetizer. John Michael, in particular, likes it and for him it is the dinner. On one occasion, a family friend joined us for this Friday night meal and was soon enthralled with the way John- John was eating his bread; gently, lovingly, and with great joy. “Look at how into the bread he is; it’s like a religious experience for him.”
If we had only observed John Michael in this state of reverie while eating at Nicola’s we could easily explain it as him enjoying his favorite food, end of story. But we see John Michael enraptured by simple things all the time, certainly enough to say that this is one of his gifts. He has a remarkable ability to live fully in the moment, a moment most of us miss in our rush to get on with the "important" issues of life. And in these given moments, filled with simple things, he is able to identify and accept the gifts God offers there. This all occurs in the course of everyday activities because God wants us to see, and hear, and understand in a certain way.
He wants us to value what the powers of this world have deemed insignificant and small. These blessed moments carry glimpses into eternity…of peace, love, communion, and everlasting happiness…and remind us of how close Heaven is to us all the time. They appear in many different contexts because God likes variety. Time of day or night is irrelevant because they come from outside time. Location is inconsequential as well because all of His created world is sacred. God is always reaching out to us, calling to us, showing us His reality. We are all sent these moments, kairos moments, moments that are not measured chronologically because they cannot be measured at all. How can one quantify things of the Spirit? These moments, and what they bring, ultimately escape words. One can talk about the felt experience, but descriptions fall short in the end. Mystics and poets would agree.
In a world that lives too often for the moment, with a grabbing-and-hoarding orientation, John Michael’s gift of receptivity in the moment stands out. Heaven has begun on earth for him. Antoine de Saint-Exupery, in The Little Prince, wrote, “It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” While those of us who are not special needs (in medical terms, anyway) see with our eyes, John Michael sees with his heart. He has an intuitive knowing about what is essential in life, and is not distracted by the things that God has not deemed truly important.
Recently, a friend was sharing with me his deep concerns about whether his son would be accepted at his alma mater Yale University. As I listened, I found myself thinking about all the issues I’m anxious about: ‘Is this person upset with me?’ ‘Did the audience truly like my speech or were they just being polite?’ ‘How will I afford college tuitions for my children?’ ‘Will the Stock market rebound?’ These concerns matter on some level, but are they really worth the amount of time and energy I give them? It can be easy to shrug off what others might consider anxiety provoking, but consider for a moment what the anxieties are in your life…the concerns that jerk you out of the present moment and either throw you back into the past, or catapult you into the future? Jesus promised that God would care for all the needs of His children. How much do we believe this? How differently would we live if we really believed it deep down in the depths of our souls? And I wonder about John Michael, who will not be applying to Yale University, does not worry about whether someone is saying nice things about him, will not need to pay for his children’s college tuitions, and doesn’t even know what the Stock Market is. What, if anything, is he anxious about? He doesn’t have the vocabulary to tell me explicitly, but his behavior tells me that anxiety is not a burden for him.
True, his medical diagnosis places him in a different category than you and me. But if we believe what our faith tells us, we don’t have to be Down syndrome to live as freely as my son does. John John’s secret lies in his commitment to living in the moment, and enjoying the simple things God gives him there. I can almost hear the echo of St. Paul writing to the Church at Philippi from his dark, dank prison cell in Rome, while he waited for his certain execution: “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances…”
John Michael enjoys ecstatic moments over more than bread; a gentle breeze caressing his face, bright lights on a Christmas tree, a grape flavored popsicle, dappled sunlight kissing him through a canopy of trees, a prayer being recited in church, and raindrops dancing around him in the garden. His eyes may widen or close, he may sit silently and motionless, head titled slightly back, or jump up and down in place, giggling and waving his hands in joy. He has many more facial expressions than words, but during these times he’ll occasionally say, “God power,” or “beautiful”, or “church people.” I so wish I could see what he sees, know what he knows. My son seems to be taken into a world of wonder, through a portal I can’t recognize until he’s through it. I feel like I’m a step behind him because I’m moving too fast. He’s with me, but not. Then, he’s back and the moment is gone. There is no short-cut technique that could force open the door; his entry ticket is his way of being. He just is…and these moments come with remarkable regularity for him. I wonder if they come for all of us and we just aren’t paying enough attention? How different would our lives be if we lived with sensitivity, and openness, and respect for the simple things? What if we weren’t so busy; busy being productive but not fruitful; important but not meaningful; pious but not holy; successful but not faithful; knowledgeable but not wise. Would heart attacks and cancer be such epidemics? Would we constantly be on the brink of war, as individuals and as a nation? Would people still be dying of starvation in our own cities? Would the earth be so polluted? There is so much to attend to, but how much of it is eternally significant…and how much do we miss? I think the holy often wears the ordinary as a disguise.
God comes to us in and through the natural world. He is the God that guides with a pillar of cloud by day, and a column of fire by night. He is the God of the burning bush and the rushing wind. He leaves His fingerprints on sunrises and sunsets, points the way with a star, chooses birth in a stable, baptizes with water, heals with mud, and gives Himself to us in bread and wine. Why, then, should it come as any surprise that He would use a Down syndrome boy who experiences a taste of Paradise in rosemary bread to teach a seminary graduate about the deeper issues of faith…and life?
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Building a culture of care
Alfred Adler defined empathy as “seeing with the eyes of another, listening with the ears of another, and feeling with the heart of another.” To build empathy, one must invest time in the relationship: quality time to explore the mystery of the other. One must also try to be humble and patient, and be more interested in understanding and true reconciliation than in being “right” and in control. In other words, empathy is a rare and beautiful virtue. At its core, empathy is the ability to step out of your shoes and into those of the person you’re interacting with: to experience the world from his or her perspective, and broaden your worldview in the process.
My friend and colleague Joe provided a great example of this when he rolled up to a staff meeting one day in a convertible Jeep Wrangler he’d just purchased. I asked him about the change, wondering to myself (in a rather un-empathic spirit) if this wasn’t a midlife impulse buy. Joe simply explained that he wanted his boys to have more of an experience of driving as they entered their teen years, and a bouncy, loud, roofless jeep would provide this much more than a typical sedan. How is this empathy? Joe’s two sons are both blind. Empathy is the stuff of saints.
When individuals feel cared for and respected, the home becomes a sanctuary, and relationships and souls are safeguarded. I may be nervous about something I’ve done, or unsure of a direction to take, but in a family working toward health and wholeness I don’t have to worry about being shamed, ridiculed, manipulated, or rejected. This doesn’t mean there will be total agreement amongst family members. There won’t be, but that’s not the ultimate goal anyway. We’re talking about a family here, not a cult!
If I know there’s someone who will really work at hearing me, seeing me, and loving me as I share, then I will risk, and heal, and grow….and so will my family!
Who do you need to practice more empathy with? Get started now, and keep trying in little and big ways each day….asking, listening, and then acting in generosity.
My friend and colleague Joe provided a great example of this when he rolled up to a staff meeting one day in a convertible Jeep Wrangler he’d just purchased. I asked him about the change, wondering to myself (in a rather un-empathic spirit) if this wasn’t a midlife impulse buy. Joe simply explained that he wanted his boys to have more of an experience of driving as they entered their teen years, and a bouncy, loud, roofless jeep would provide this much more than a typical sedan. How is this empathy? Joe’s two sons are both blind. Empathy is the stuff of saints.
When individuals feel cared for and respected, the home becomes a sanctuary, and relationships and souls are safeguarded. I may be nervous about something I’ve done, or unsure of a direction to take, but in a family working toward health and wholeness I don’t have to worry about being shamed, ridiculed, manipulated, or rejected. This doesn’t mean there will be total agreement amongst family members. There won’t be, but that’s not the ultimate goal anyway. We’re talking about a family here, not a cult!
If I know there’s someone who will really work at hearing me, seeing me, and loving me as I share, then I will risk, and heal, and grow….and so will my family!
Who do you need to practice more empathy with? Get started now, and keep trying in little and big ways each day….asking, listening, and then acting in generosity.
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