It's just a cardigan

Most who know me know that I am slightly obsessed with cardigans.  Well, maybe obsessed is too strong of a word.  I have a very strong love for them.  They are just so practical and versatile.  They can be worn with every kind of bottom and dresses; they can be buttoned, belted or worn open for a more casual look.  Everyone really should own one. 

The other day, I was talking to a friend about the cardigan she was wearing.  It was super cute!  It was cream with little navy blue birds on it and a navy blue edging around the collar and down the front.  Anyway, she got it from Anthropologie on clearance for $19.95 – what a steal!  Anyone who is familiar with Anthropologie knows that a sweater on average can range anywhere from $100 - $250.

As we were discussing this beautiful article of clothing, a couple things crossed my mind: 1. How can I get this sweater and 2. If they don’t have it, I have to find something similar somewhere else.  The next thing that came out of my mouth took me a little by surprise.  I said, “I need to get more cardigans that have prints on them.”  Pause.  I actually paused after “need” came out of my mouth and corrected myself and said “want.”  I realized pretty quickly what I was saying, when the truth of the matter is I really don’t NEED another piece of clothing and for sure do not NEED any more cardigans.  What’s my deal?!

Well, I am human.  I know, really it’s true.  I fall into the consumer mentality myself and more often that I care to admit.  The thing that got me as I was reflecting was the fact that I said I “need” that.  That could be further from the truth.  So often needs and wants become enmeshed and we just end up with a lot of stuff.  Many times I feel a tension within myself as I desire to live a more freeing life in the midst of the limitations of my current life.  How do I incorporate those liberating aspects into the life I live?  What does that look like? 

For example, I have experienced a sense of freedom in simplifying my life in the areas of time, relationships, and material things.  When I am intentional about that, life is great.  When it comes to material things, I cannot even tell you how many times my husband and I have said that we need to go through our storage and purge stuff.  Or go through our kitchen cupboards because I know we don’t use a lot of the items that we store in them.  I, fortunately, have gotten on a good rhythm of cleaning out my closet and getting rid of clothes that I don’t wear frequently enough.  It is kind of overwhelming and exhausting to think about all of this. 

In summation, I think that I need someone to come in and conquer this huge undertaking with me, that is cleaning out our storage, kitchen, and closets.  Or for now, I need to let that go and be okay with what I can accomplish in this moment.  Maybe the real change starts within myself by becoming fully aware of the consumer in me so that I can begin to experience freedom in small, simple ways.

Better late than never

This past Mother's Day, I really tried to make space to reflect on motherhood and the gift that it is.  Even though, it being on a Sunday, my husband was gone from 7am to 9pm, with an hour or so home for lunch. It was precious though because my three year old wished me a happy Mother's Day about twenty times throughout the day.

A friend of mine explained how to mother is an experience anyone who says yes to God can encounter.  It is the joy, the struggle, the sacrifice, the evolving of oneself . . . the realization that you cannot do it alone, the fear of failure, the love poured out and received, and so on.  How true this is for mothers, yet for those who may not be and who have the courage to simply say yes to God and all that He has for them.

I came across the following excerpt from author Lynne Hybels.  For my friends who are mothers and who are not, who are women and who are not (clearly "women" could be replaced by "men" or "people"), who feel joy, sadness, fear, rejection, frustration, hopelessness . . . this is for you.

Dear God, 

May we be women who acknowledge our power to change, and grow, and be radically alive for God.

May we be healers of wounds and righters of wrongs.

May we weep with those who weep and speak for those who cannot speak for themselves.

May we cherish children, embrace the elderly, and empower the poor.

May we pray deeply and teach wisely.

May we be strong and gentle leaders.

May we sing songs of joy and talk down fear.

May we never hesitate to let passion push us, conviction compel us, and righteous anger energize us.

May we strike fear into all that is unjust and evil in the world.

May we dismantle abusive systems and silence lies with truth.

May we shine like stars in a darkened generation.

May we overflow with goodness in the name of God and by the power of Jesus.

And in that name and by that power, may we change the world.

Amen.

Namaste

Namaste is often said after completion of yoga or used to greet one another in India.  It literally means "how me you" or "I bow to you."  It is a greeting that recognizes the soul in one person by the soul in another.

This morning I had the opportunity to meet Dr. Sane.  He and is wife, Kumud, who is also a doctor moved to the area in 1971 to start Children's Hospitals and Clinics of Minnesota - Minneapolis.  Kumud was the one of the top doctors of endocrinology at the hospital.  Both doctors retired and built a Hindu temple in Maple Grove.

Dr. Sane gave us a tour of this amazing temple that sits just five minutes from where I work.  This building was beautiful.  He briefly explained the Hindu religion and all of the statues in the place of worship.  We saw some worshippers performing some rituals while we were there.

Not only was I impressed the detail and intricacies of the sculptures, but I was really impressed with Dr. Sane and Kumud.  They were such cool people who very clearly love others.  I hope that our paths cross again.

It's complicated

My friend eloquently communicates the tension and struggle I feel about this historic event.  It is complex.  Justice and peace have not been attained as this unfortunate cycle of hatred and murder continues on.  Justice does not equal punishment.  Have mercy on us.

Reflections on the Death of Osama bin Laden
           Today has been a strange day.  Upon hearing about the death of Osama Bin Laden, I was immediately struck with a profound sadness.  Throughout the day I found myself tearing up and fighting off waves of emotion.  I’m sure some of the emotion is a result of not sleeping well and the grind that life has been for the last several weeks.  But I also think there is more.  Something about the events of Bin Laden’s death causes me to mourn something bigger.
            As I read through the Twitter feeds and Facebook posts, I realize I don’t relate to what a lot of people are feeling.  There is no joy in me what so ever.  I don’t feel relief at all.  Thinking things will change or that this will bring an end to Al Qaeda seems absolutely ridiculous.  For many, this feels like justice.  I don’t even know what that means.  How can you want justice for one and not for all?  Isn’t justice what most people like Bin Laden say they want as well?  Is their justice less important than ours?  Who decides what’s just and what isn’t?
            A few years ago I heard Desmond Tutu speak in Minneapolis.  After a few minutes of talking about how all of humanity is connected to each other, he started talking about God’s perspective.  I remember him saying, “With God, there are no outsiders.  Everyone is an insider.”  He quoted Jesus’ words when he said, “When I am lifted up, I will draw all people to myself.”  The word that he parked on for the rest of his talk was “all.”  As Archbishop Tutu preached and began to talk about God’s love for “all,” people began to clap and cheer.  Then, he brilliantly began inserting specific people in relationship to the “all” of God’s love.  I remember him pushing the envelope further and further and listening to people continue to clap and cheer.  The second to the last person he referred to as being part of the “all” was President George W. Bush.  People laughed but kept cheering.  However, the last person’s name to be shouted out that night by Desmond Tutu was Osama Bin Laden.  When he yelled out his name, people didn’t know what to do.  The clapping slowed, the cheering quieted, and Desmond Tutu knew that he had reached the limit of what the room could handle.  He responded by yelling “all, ALL, ALL!!” 
            I’ll never forget that moment.  What I realized is that we have a limit to our love.  The pain of 9/11 was never truly dealt with in our country.  We carry it and it lies hidden until someone comes along and pulls the cover off.  The pain is still there.  Today we see it expressed in various ways all over the news and social networks.
            The words that have stuck with me all day are the words of Jesus talking about how God “causes the sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and unrighteous.”  He then calls us to “be perfect therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect."  So much of Evangelical Christianity has been built on the premise that we will never be perfect, and yet Jesus calls us to be perfect like God is.  I think the point of the passage is that God’s love is perfect.  In other words, God loves all the same.  If God loved one more than another, then His love wouldn’t be perfect.  It’s hard for me to comprehend God loving Osama Bin Laden as much as Mother Teresa., but it has to be true for perfection.  We celebrate the death of one and mourn the death of another.  The perfection Jesus calls us to isn’t about getting everything right, it’s about loving everyone the same.
            I think my sadness today comes from realizing how far humanity is from the call of Jesus to be perfect in love.  My own imperfection comes out when I read stories of people cheering for death, celebrating revenge, and lifting up violence.  What they hate about Bin Laden, I hate about them.  The speck of dust in their eye is a chip off the plank in my own.  I’m disappointed in the violence in me and in all of us.
            A few years ago, one of my mentors talked to me about mercy being a higher value than justice.  I’m not sure Bin Laden deserves mercy, but I’m also not sure that I do.  The hope that I carry today is that despite my imperfection of love, God is still perfect in His.  His story is a story where mercy comes in over justice.  That's good news for all of us.  We need mercy more than ever if we are ever going to deal with the pain, anger, and violence that lies beneath the surface of our humanity.  I mourn for our world today.  The cycle of violence continues while we continue to push away and ignore the pain that lies at the center.  Mercy, we need You to lead.