Where was God?

I guess everyone is writing about the little kids that were shot in Connecticut today.  I kind of didn’t want to say anything.  I feel a little sick to my stomach, empty and on the verge of tears (interspersed with actual crying) since the shooting.

But then, a friend posted this on facebook: “20 kids murdered this morning! 
Where was god????” I like this guy, a lot.  He is so nice.  A really kind person and it broke my heart that on top of the sadness of these children dying, their friends having to deal with the trauma of the situation and their parents never getting to hold their children again – we are also lost….looking for god (or God).  Now is the time where we would need to turn to him, to be consoled to find answers and actions, but we are wondering about fundamentals.

There was a time I asked the same question.  You see, I’ve been a victim of violence as a child and as an adult.  And honestly for a long time I was confused about the whole “Jesus loves you” and the unspoken “but not enough to keep you safe from harm”.  I mean, OBVIOUSLY God is big enough, powerful enough… if he exists, right?  I was also bitter and had a hard time trusting that there was anything good, or that God, who I believed existed, really took an interest in me at all.

But I had a revelation one day.  I was thinking about God and that if he IS, if he created the universe and everything in it…. he really must be omnipresent  (everywhere).  What dawned on me was that the violence I suffered, Jesus (God) suffered too. But in a much more profound way.  Here’s how I see it….

• First: God in the world at large.  This make God a witness to the violence.  Any compassion he has would be activated.  But… so often, it seems that he does nothing to stop the very violence that makes him sad / mad.
• Second: God in me.  Violence is done to him AS it’s done to me.  It’s crazy to think that the God of the Universe allows himself to be subjected to such abuse.  But he is in me and is thereby a victim.
• Third: This may upset some of you… But Jesus / God being omnipresent… I mean, doesn’t that make him present in the perpetrator, the murderer, the one COMMITTING the violence? Doesn’t he experience the violence against the ones he loves from the other side as well. (Dont’ think that “the ones he loves” means only the victim)  If the Bible is true he came to set the prisoners free – the ones that are in jail because they screwed up, they committed violence.  Imagine if you were somehow forced to take part in harming the very child you love so dearly that you would die for them, but you were powerless to stop it. (we will come back to that)
• Fourth: God eternal.  He sees the genesis of the crime – from the beginning of time.  He sees the repercussions to the end of time. He sees the trickle down violence as people are effected more and less by the tragedy of violence (imposing my will over yours). He sees – and if my suppositions are right – feels the pain of and experiences all these iterations, throughout time.

IS God powerful enough?  Yes.  And no.  The crappy thing about being the essence of truth is that when you promise something, your very nature does not allow you to take it back. (I suppose it takes immense strength keep that promise.) Free will is the most amazing gift and the heaviest burden.  I think the weak in our world pay the heaviest price for the luxury of that gift. I call this violence. I am free to love, hate, do good or do evil and impose my will on others that may be unwilling to partake in such actions. So God COULD forcefully stop you from being an ass, from being hurtful, from doing damage to others and yourself.  He has the skill, the power, the means…  but then he would be the criminal.  He would be imposing HIS will on YOU.  So now, any authentic love, gift, choice to be kind, etc… means nothing because you are actually not CAPABLE of doing the opposite.  Good isn’t good anymore, it’s inevitable activity due to lack of choice.  I kind of think we are then zombies (just ones that don’t limp around biting others, you know)

This isn’t a freedom we generally think much about. Freedom to choose how I will act… and react.

My question isn’t “Where was God?”  My question is “Where are WE?”

As I looked at images online from the tragedy in Connecticut  I saw one that stopped me in my tracks.  Children being led out in a row, each child with a hand on the shoulder of the child in front of them. They all looked confused and somewhat distraught, but one girl, maybe 6 years old… well her face haunts me.  It was such a deep distress, disbelief and lostness coupled with fear it left me unsettled, deep in my core.  And, she reminded me of my youngest son’s oldest daughter. You know how it is, when stuff like that hits home – when you can imagine it actually touching your family, your loved ones.

The other thing that image brought to mine was the picture of the little Japanese girl whose entier backside was burned when we bombed Hiroshima.  Same kind of look.  It haunts me. At the same time I remember pictures of the faces of children my oldest son encountered in Iraq and Afghanistan.  And faces of children forced to kill their parents and become child soldiers in Africa.  And the faces of the children who are sold, and bought, and traded and abused because someone used the gift of Free Will for violence.  And so my question is…

Where are we?  Where are we when children all over the world and in our back yards are suffering violence.  We are rightly outraged when 20 die in Connecticut  but not moved to action where we can actually make a difference.

We are mostly at home, or the gym, or the bar, or at work being comfortable – happy we don’t have to deal with such things, blissfully unaware they exist.  Until we are briefly reminded they do and someone asks, “Where are we?”

My question for myself is, “How can my actions help free a child?”  I can’t change the course of events in Connecticut today.  I am sad about that.  I am haunted by it.  And any kind or good actions on behalf of children the weak the taken advantage of won’t effect the families in Connecticut.  But, I don’t just want to be saddened only to return to my normal life until the next tragedy makes the news.  They are all around us.  What if I used my free will differently than that?

 

Party like it’s 1999

Were you afraid?  Maybe a little worried?

Do you remember Y2K? I do.  I remember people stock piling goods – not to mention doing other “end of the world preparation” type stuff.  Was I one of those people? No.  It’s not like I didn’t BELIEVE everything was going to crash.  I just didn’t really know how to prepare – and, honestly,  I wasn’t really convinced.  But I was a little scared.

Why am I talking about this now?  Well, for the past few weeks, every once in a while when I got out of my car there was a penny laying on the ground. Right next to the driver’s side door.  I usually just leave them. But the frequency had my interest peaked.  So this morning, when I got out of my car, there was a penny – again!  I picked it up and sat back down pondering the meaning, if any.  I wondered, “What year is it?” After a frantic search for my glasses, I thought it said 1999.  Then it hit me.

This penny thing is about the unknown, fear, powerlessness and faith. Which is ultimately about letting go.

The unknown. The scariest movies aren’t the ones with the most blood, they are the ones where you know you don’t know what is going to happen next, right?!

1999.  No one really knew what was going to happen. The big thing about the unknown is that it messes with our illusion of control. Come on, don’t shut down here.  You know you don’t REALLY have control over much of anything right?  Maybe your own thoughts and actions…. that’s about it.  Sure, you can influence… stop a ball from rolling – if you can catch it, if you don’t trip, or someone doesn’t get in your way… You can influence a decision, but we have ALL seen our attempts at influence (ahem, control) backfire.  Am I alone here?  Can I get an amen?

One of the most defining tennets of my faith is recognition of my powerlessness. Oh! aAd embracing it. As much as I like to help, guide, and be available to the people around me… I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am not in control, I do not own, nor can I at times even influence the people I love.

It’s scary. I fear the unknown.  Will my friend’s decisions lead them away from me?  Can they make it, do they want to? If they break, can they recover? It feels like there is a lot of personal ‘risk’ of losing (what is dear to me) for me. But that is the illusion. I never really could count on, know or control the outcome of what people will think or do next.  So what if I thought differently from the onset?

What if I realized that faith is tightly holding on to the powerlessness in my life.  That is truth. And what happens when I accomplish this?  The people in my life get to grow, get to become who they will.

With these pennies and especially this 1999 penny, I feel like God is saying, “Remain powerless, live in the unknown and have faith, in Me and my relationship with those you love.”

To live well with Christ is to let go, of everything, often… focus on my own life, choices, acts of love and, of course, to have faith.

It’s just hair, right?

I have this friend… he is a Kung Fu teacher in Aurora, Il. While working out with his MMA guys I asked if maybe I could promote this “Anti-Traffiking” Fundraiser I was doing. I put my poster up in his window and he asked me who the model was. I told him it was a self portrait and that I shaved my hair to raise money for a little boy with Leukemia just a few months before. It was kind of funny, because, you know, when you do something yourself, well – you aren’t very impressed with it, cause you did it already and you are ‘on to the next thing’. Right? But Sifu (teacher in Chinese) was visibly impressed. He asked lots of questions about why I did it and when we were done he said, “I am going to grow my hair out and then donate it!” He was bald at the time. I told him it would take at least a couple of years, but he said he was IN.

This was a challenge for Sifu. He had never had long hair and his hair is… well, unruley. I didn’t really every hear him complain, but I could tell it was pretty much a daily inconvenience.

Well, here we are a couple of years later. And I had the honor of ‘finishing’ this journey with him through the following pictures. I really wanted to tell a story about who Sifu David Luna is – so as you look at these images try to imagine him talking to nature, trying hard to give me the poses I wanted, enjoying every moment and obliging me GREATLY by taking his hair OUT of the pony tail!

There is one picture that feels a little “haunting”. Sifu’s hair is cut off, sticking out to the side and he is looking at himself in the mirror. He asked me, “Why am I so emotional about this? It’s just hair, right?” I think even giving up things we aren’t particularly fond of can be tough. I think that the hacking away at his pony tail with my horrible scissors was also cutting away the 2 year commitment that, honestly, he could have quit any time. But he didn’t. Because he promised…. me.

This shoot felt very spiritual for me. Deep feelings of gratitude, honor, loss, giving and the fight with ‘self’ were rampant and palpable.

I hope you enjoy the images – click the picture below:

Gifted

Oh oh oh!  Look at you!  Here again for another ONE WORD post!  You might wonder how “gifted” fits in here.  But remember these posts are about things I am ashamed of, haven’t figured out or that maybe scare me a little.  Gifted fits those categories.  Read on… if you dare.

I’m a photographer.  I have been taking pictures since forever, with varying equipment, skill and understanding. I’ve always kinda liked my work, but never really took myself ‘seriously’.  Just took pictures cause I liked it… I wanted to share with other people how I see things;  to celebrate the beauty in what I saw.

As a photographer, I recognize giftedness in others. You don’t have to be a photographer for that, though.  You just look at a picture and it ‘speaks’ to you – or it touches you someplace deep in your soul and you think, “Wow. What a great photo!”  Right?

Well, here’s the thing I am kinda ashamed of or embarrassed about.  I look at my work (often) and think that. (Wow. What a great photo!) The words change of course, substitute “photo’ for “moment”, “lighting”, “composition”, but the idea is the same.  I’m proud of my work.

So, why ashamed?  Because you aren’t supposed to be proud.  What if I just THINK it’s great, but it isn’t REALLY?  Now, if I were hearing you say that, I would laugh (in a friendly sort of way) and say, the only person who needs to like it is YOU!  But, that isn’t true, no matter how badly I want it to be.  We are humans, I believe we are created for community, togetherness, to need and fulfill need where others are concerned.  So I do need you to like my work.  Not ALL of you.  Just enough of you.

I suppose ‘real’ artists create for the sake of artistic creation itself, like they can’t HELP but create stuff.  I can go for long periods without taking a picture – I don’t like it, but I can.  I create for artistic expression.  I certainly don’t need to express me to me!  right?  I want you to find value in what I do.  There’s the rub. I am embarrassed (ashamed a bit, I suppose) that I need you to like my work.  Sometimes it’s intense, other times barely noticeable. But I think that strong people don’t need that.  I am probably wrong in most instances. But it’s one of the lies I have picked up somewhere along the line – that I am the only one who cares (a lot) what others think of my work. And it makes me less of a (mature, wise, strong…) person.

The good thing about that is, with 6 billion+ people in the world the odds of NO ONE liking my work are pretty slim. Example: My husband can listen to a local band and think they are the best ever.  I listen and think, “Why are they letting that person sing lead? They are tone deaf.”

The other thing about liking my own work…thinking I have a gift where photography is concerned is that it feels prideful in one sense (see above) and burdensome in another.  If someone gives me a gift that is awesome and to be used to help fill the needs of others, I better take GOOD care of it.  I better not suck, or be lazy with it, or throw it in a corner and do nothing with it. Right? I better add skill and intentionality with it.  I better treat it with respect. I better not mess it up. (laughing) But I think that.

I don’t know about you.  You may not struggle with these thoughts at all. Your self esteem is beautifully in tact. Your sense of self worth is undented. My guess is, though that most people reading this think like this – whether or not you have been able to put it into words.

I don’t want to give the impression that everything comes easy.  That everything is second nature to me.  That I just boldly charge forward in whatever endeavor I start. Something inside of me compels me to start, to champion, to fight for truth and beauty for me …and for you, if you need it.

Here are the latest photos I thought, “wow.” about:  Thank you, Emily for being beautiful and letting me show it through my camera lens.

  

Alone

Number 3 in my “One Word” posts.  Again, you are not so lucky as to show up here to read just one word.  That’s just the title. So if Two or more words are too much reading for you… move along.  The rest of you get to hear my thoughts on being alone in a world full of people… loneliness.

Sometimes I wonder if loneliness is simply a state of mind, which implies I have the power to change it – you know, how I think.  It’s a tempting thought… “If I would simply change my thinking, my loneliness would go away.”

But here is the rub.  One of my biggest fears is believing things that are not true.  Tricking myself into thinking things are “ok” when they are indeed NOT “ok”.  Perhaps I a  the free 70′s and the “magic of thinking big” 80′s and 90′s. There were a lot of self-help books about how you think… and if you can think it you can achieve it.  I don’t get it.  Or perhaps I don’t have that kind of drive. idk. Either way, I don’t want to pretend every thing is fine.  I want to be aware, ready, open.  Living in reality. Even if reality sucks.

So.  Being alone. My life has changed a lot this year.  I don’t have the same old people around me to fill the dark spaces, to distract, to keep me company and to be ever-present reminders that I am not REALLY alone.  I used to work in an office with 10 people I still consider my friends. I used to visit my Mom and Dad – now I visit my Mom.  I used to play with my granddaughters, hear my son sing and watch my daughter-in-law laugh (I love her laugh). I used to talk to my friend Perry about important things (including how I fail and try again).  Sometimes I still get to do some of these things. Mostly not.

It’s a kind of stripping away that’s happening.  I think it will turn out for the best.  But for now it feels lonely. When I think about these things, I am alone.  Inside my heart, inside my head. No one else fits in there, really. But more importantly, there is no one to distract me – from the inside of me.

These posts are about things I am maybe ashamed of, or haven’t gotten my head or heart around – so here it is.  I am ashamed that the love of the people around me doesn’t seem to be enough to distract me from the reality of feeling alone – loss.  That I can’t just replace loss with the love of the people around me. That I can’t just be fine and keep moving forward. Unburdening the people that love me.

If the table was turned, tho… I would want to be burdened with your sorrow, loneliness and grief. Until you were restored to the awesomeness of life again. I wouldn’t want you to feel the need to hide, or lie – in your head, in your heart, or with your mouth. And THAT is why I am sharing.

I just saw an old 1968 photo  of 2 Olympic medalists standing with fists raised* (getting them expelled from the games) saying with no words that some things in life suck and we want to change them together – no matter the current norm.  It made me cry because too seldom do people stand with fists raised saying, “No more hiding. No more faking.  No more believing things that simply are not true.” We are too afraid. Much too afraid for such a short existence.

I am not sure it’s a psychological principle or not but I think that I have this ability to live in the suckiness of THIS moment because I believe in the awesomeness of all the moments combined.  It gives me space inside my heart.  I know the bad can never push out the good.  It can never be permanent.  There are too many good things that tip the scale, that re-fill the dark spaces as the darkness gets pushed out.

 

*disclaimer: no… I am not saying that my personal inner angst is ANYTHING like the magnitude of  the civil rights issues these men were protesting.  I am saying that our Americanized “be tough, don’t show your pain, fake it till you make it” attitude tends to oppress emotionally when applied as a blanket solution to life’s real pain.

Pain

(You have stumbled upon #2 of my ONE WORD posts.  And you are astute enough to notice that this post is more than ONE WORD. The ONE WORD is the title.  A word that maybe I am embarrassed about or afraid to admit or haven’t figured out how to handle.)

Being a ‘bad-ass’ Body Combat (Les Mills group fitness MMA-based cardio class) instructor means that pain is my companion. Any fitness instructor I know will tell me that if they are not hurting, they know they haven’t been working. I’m not talking about broken bones, or messed up joints or the kind of pain that means you should be home icing (or applying heat) with water, protein and rest!

I’m talking about the kind of pain that happens when you push your muscles just past their current limit, causing muscle breakdown that leads to building mass / strength. That’s good pain, pain that represents growth.

You can read lots of articles about that kind of pain online.  Try fitness sites.  This isn’t about that kind of pain.

I used to have fibromyalgia. (I linked to Mayo Clinic since they diagnosed me) It’s a kind of dull ache pretty much everywhere, that increases exponentially when pressure is applied.  I say ‘used to’ because since I added regular, intense exercise I haven’t really had that kind of pain. I used to call it ‘fake’ pain.  No real reason for it, no real fix for it, no beginning, no end.  Elusive and exhausting. Mentally and physically.

Once, I was almost in a car accident and the shock of the situation sent pain shooting through my body. Not because of a jolt or some kind of physical contact, but just the surprise of it.  All the way to my toes and finger tips.  If Guy brakes fast, same thing. Pain, shooting all over.  It’s weird.  I tell myself that it’s unnecessary, but I don’t know how to listen to myself and stop it.

So now I’m not surprised that emotional pain shows up as physical pain for me. I sometimes think that if I cried more…you know, if I ‘got it out’ it might fix that. But I cry plenty

Here’s the deal: Pain sucks, for sure. Some pain you can’t really do anything about. Some pain you medicate. Some pain is left over pain like fibromyalgia flare ups or arthritis from an old injury. Other pain is acute, immediate. The body’s way of screaming “I DO NOT LIKE THIS!”

The craziest thing about pain though is that it separates you. From yourself, your happiness.  From the people around you. It’s non-bonding.  No one else can feel MY pain.  It’s alienating. Outsiders (people outside of me) don’t know how to intervene, to break the circuit that carries the pain from one place to another.  …wait.  I take that back. That cycle of pain has been broken many times. Visits from friends, phone calls, online chats, hugs, requests for work… lots of things short the circuit.  But I guess the problem really is that it’s only a temporary sort of interruption.

When things get quiet.  Thoughts start turning.  Reality, not real reality – not my normal, hopeful, optimistic kind of reality, sets in. Reality that I am sad…still.

But… I am optimistic.  I am excited about my future and the amazing things that happen in my life.  I still think that the world is beautiful, friendly, kind, happy, loving – broken, too. I have complete faith that this pain will not last forever.  I am reminded that if I feel like this there are many people who do too.  I am not talking about comfort through the kinship of pain, because there is no comfort in being a part of other people’s pain along with your own, I don’t think. But I do think that some of those people have maybe fewer or less capable friends, less resources, less satisfying outlets. I am determined to learn the lessons swimming around in my head. I’ll need them, you might need them.

If you know me personally, thanks for being here..reading, calling, telling me jokes and more importantly laughing at mine!

NOTE: (maybe it’s a disclaimer) I am always a little afraid to write these posts.  I don’t want it to look like I am losing it.  Or like I am begging for attention. Or like I don’t need attention. Or that my friends aren’t good enough or that they are perfect. I don’t want people walking around worried or feeling sorry for me. I do want people to follow their hearts without manipulation.  I guess the big deal is that people don’t USUALLY talk about pain, loneliness, sadness and the day in – day outness of it.  I don’t want us to be walking around carrying all our burdens by ourselves-  acting like we don’t have them, or like no one can understand.  I don’t want us all pretending.  It just seems like a lonely waste of time.  So, again, thanks for listening.

Afraid

Today begins a new series of ONE WORD self expression blog posts.

No, you are not so lucky as to come here for only one word.  But my title and twitter updates for these posts will be ONE WORD.

Today I am starting with ‘Afraid’.  I wanted to start with Lonely, Broken, Empty, Sad or… well, you get the idea.  I chose ‘Afraid’ because I was afraid to just tweet “Broken” this morning.  I have been afraid to post ANYTHING not positive since my Dad died and my youngest son and his family moved away.  Who needs to read that anyway?  Broken?  What does it even mean????

Instead I tweeted: What do you use social media for? Getting info? News? Getting to know people? Self expression? Changing the world? #whypostatall

I wanted permission to be me. To use Twitter to express myself.  I wanted it because I don’t know WHY I am tweeting. I am unsure of the impact or who I reach.  I wanted permission to be lazy.  To not think thru my purpose.  And in writing that tweet I remembered… I want to change the world.  My self expression is just for that.

“How can the one-word-tweet “Broken” change the world?” you might ask.  I don’t think it does.  It could, tho, in small incremental ways, with some help… with some understanding.

Here’s what I mean:

I had a friend tell me how well I was doing.  Like he could hardly tell I was grieving. Like he maybe couldn’t tell that my heart hurt, my chest ached and I cried every day.  Like he thought that people not KNOWING you’re sad is an achievement. 

This is what I want to change.

Maybe it’s because I am already broken, but hiding and faking and thinking that pretending will change reality makes me most sad.  It’s like sadness heaped on top of sadness.

I don’t think I have to pretend I am happy to BE happy.  Happiness comes.  Happiness can be honestly found in the middle of sadness…it just pops up.  You might be looking at a flower, or a friend just smiles at you and you remember about hope and that you are loved and…. and there’s happiness popping up.

What is most sad is the lack of honesty, honest feelings, honest expression of the quiet parts of your heart. Or the loud parts. Sometimes my heart seems to be screaming from inside my chest.  Fighting for truth about the good things and about the sad things.  But, I am afraid… that you won’t be able to hang with me, that all those feelings will scare you away, that you aren’t really ready to be honest and it scares you more than it scares me.  And I lose you.  My expression comes at the cost of you.

Selfishly, I lose. I am alone. Globally, we all lose. We lose the real, pure giving of yourself – which is what you are here for.

However, I have decided to face the “Afraid” and opt for changing the world. Small, incremental one-word-twitter type changes for those who listen and may be afraid, but want to be a part of change, growth, life altering healthy honesty.

Thanks for listening. and I do wish just ONE WORD could do the trick.

 

(related: http://bethkolar.wordpress.com/2012/01/25/breaking/)