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.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
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.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Think Small
Mother Teresa, the saint of Calcutta, was fond of saying, "We can do no great things, only small things with great love." Mother, no doubt, had a bit of the trickster in her...for she knew better than most that when you do something with great love, it ceases to be small. Love is eternal, and it infuses everything it touches with Eternity. Can't get much bigger than that.
Her challenge, historically known as the "little way," is a great one for all of us as we face the New Year. I believe that people too often think that anything less than finding a cure for cancer, or solving the economic crisis, or donating a ton of money to some well-deserving non-profit organization is not significant enough to tilt the world. But the reality is that when you love another, you move yourself and that person toward Heaven. BIG tilt. Honest to God.
Start with yourself and those closest to you, and work your way outward from the center. What little things can you do today, right now: offer a smile? an affirming word? a quick prayer? a menial task done without being asked? a "love letter" on a post-it? some minor sacrifice for another that stretches you a bit?
Resist the temptation to think that "little acts of love" don't matter, and strive for consistency. Resist the temptation to get perfectionistic about your actions, and move in freedom. Resist the temptation to need someone/anyone/everyone to notice how loving you're being. This plan is good for you, naturally and supernaturally. And the fact that God notices and is pleased is a pretty good reason to be at peace also!
Everyday, make a decision to do little things with great love...or as much love as you can muster up. And the world will become a better place. Happy New Year...think small!
Her challenge, historically known as the "little way," is a great one for all of us as we face the New Year. I believe that people too often think that anything less than finding a cure for cancer, or solving the economic crisis, or donating a ton of money to some well-deserving non-profit organization is not significant enough to tilt the world. But the reality is that when you love another, you move yourself and that person toward Heaven. BIG tilt. Honest to God.
Start with yourself and those closest to you, and work your way outward from the center. What little things can you do today, right now: offer a smile? an affirming word? a quick prayer? a menial task done without being asked? a "love letter" on a post-it? some minor sacrifice for another that stretches you a bit?
Resist the temptation to think that "little acts of love" don't matter, and strive for consistency. Resist the temptation to get perfectionistic about your actions, and move in freedom. Resist the temptation to need someone/anyone/everyone to notice how loving you're being. This plan is good for you, naturally and supernaturally. And the fact that God notices and is pleased is a pretty good reason to be at peace also!
Everyday, make a decision to do little things with great love...or as much love as you can muster up. And the world will become a better place. Happy New Year...think small!
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Careful Where You Dig
A couple of summers ago King Tutankhamen visited our city again. It had been over twenty years since the boy king, who died in 1339 B.C., was on tour along with artifacts from his tomb. As impressive as the exhibit was, though, I found the story of his discovery as interesting as the treasures that lay inside his almost perfectly in tact final resting place. Howard Carter, the English archaeologist who found Tut’s tomb, had searched carefully, persistently, purposefully for ten years in the blazing Egyptian desert. And when he finally found the entrance to the tomb, almost accidentally, the work was still not finished. Locating a treasure is not worth very much if you destroy it in the unearthing process. So, Carter and his team ever so gently, almost reverently, explored the interior of the tomb, and the person that lay within, foot by foot, observing, studying, learning with great respect. After ten years of searching, you can imagine how much Carter might have been tempted to rush, to hurry, to take control of his find and exploit it for personal gain. But he maintained a remarkably unhurried and cautious pace, not wanting to damage in any way such a precious find. The process was more important to him than any individual agenda. Howard Carter’s approach to King Tut and his world serves as an apt analogy for how spouses should explore their partners’ respective pasts. In relationships, we must be careful when digging…archaeology with a heart!
Wanting to explore the mystery of your beloved, spiritually, emotionally, and physically, is an essential part of intimacy. If you’re not curious about how your partner has become the person he or she is, there’s a problem. After all, how else can you learn how to love him or her more and more fully. In order to make discoveries, we must do some digging into the past; not everything lies on the surface. There are great treasures that lie buried in history, but we must proceed with great care and gentleness.
A few guidelines for this “archaeological process” are sure to help your “dig” remain helpful and not harmful.
First, be clear about your motivation. Why are you asking the questions you’re asking? Is it to know your partner more fully so that you can love him or her more completely? Is it that you want your spouse to feel cared for, attended to, celebrated? Or, is your agenda less about love and more about control? Are you attempting to gain the upper hand in an argument, shame or guilt your partner into a subordinate role, make yourself feel significant.
Second, keep in mind that prior relationships, prior choices (both good and bad), prior experiences must be understood within the contexts they happened. A huge mistake would be to judge your spouse for something that happened years ago, with no respect for time, place, or culture. This would be a little like Howard Carter criticizing King Tut for his burial attire, or the way his tomb was organized. Reality check: ask yourself if you and your world have changed at all since you were in high school or early adulthood. Have you learned anything new about life and love, responsibility and freedom since you were 18 or 21 years old...or even since last year? My hopeful guess is that you have.
Finally, there must be freedom to share what one is comfortable sharing…and permission to say “I’m not ready to go there” or “not now” if the questions begin to feel uncomfortable, or the tone of the discussion begins to feel less like intimacy and more like an inquisition. If this occurs, put the breaks on and figure out what the emotional discomfort is about. It might be related to the here-and-now, the style or tone of the conversation, but it may also be linked to pain from the past that has not been fully healed. If the latter is the case, consider red-flagging the issue and revisiting it individually and/or as a couple with a trained third party (i.e. a counselor). Remember, discovering a treasure is wasted if, in the handling, we destroy it.
Wanting to explore the mystery of your beloved, spiritually, emotionally, and physically, is an essential part of intimacy. If you’re not curious about how your partner has become the person he or she is, there’s a problem. After all, how else can you learn how to love him or her more and more fully. In order to make discoveries, we must do some digging into the past; not everything lies on the surface. There are great treasures that lie buried in history, but we must proceed with great care and gentleness.
A few guidelines for this “archaeological process” are sure to help your “dig” remain helpful and not harmful.
First, be clear about your motivation. Why are you asking the questions you’re asking? Is it to know your partner more fully so that you can love him or her more completely? Is it that you want your spouse to feel cared for, attended to, celebrated? Or, is your agenda less about love and more about control? Are you attempting to gain the upper hand in an argument, shame or guilt your partner into a subordinate role, make yourself feel significant.
Second, keep in mind that prior relationships, prior choices (both good and bad), prior experiences must be understood within the contexts they happened. A huge mistake would be to judge your spouse for something that happened years ago, with no respect for time, place, or culture. This would be a little like Howard Carter criticizing King Tut for his burial attire, or the way his tomb was organized. Reality check: ask yourself if you and your world have changed at all since you were in high school or early adulthood. Have you learned anything new about life and love, responsibility and freedom since you were 18 or 21 years old...or even since last year? My hopeful guess is that you have.
Finally, there must be freedom to share what one is comfortable sharing…and permission to say “I’m not ready to go there” or “not now” if the questions begin to feel uncomfortable, or the tone of the discussion begins to feel less like intimacy and more like an inquisition. If this occurs, put the breaks on and figure out what the emotional discomfort is about. It might be related to the here-and-now, the style or tone of the conversation, but it may also be linked to pain from the past that has not been fully healed. If the latter is the case, consider red-flagging the issue and revisiting it individually and/or as a couple with a trained third party (i.e. a counselor). Remember, discovering a treasure is wasted if, in the handling, we destroy it.
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