Nobody Knows Your Name

Years ago there was a sitcom called "Cheers". Very popular and well-known.

It was about a bar and the group of regulars that met there. Their lives played out on the barstools of this basement tavern. Rarely did any scene venture outside of this single room. Funny and poignant - one of my favorites. The theme song is one I can almost sing from memory, with the lyrics describing it as a place "where everybody knows your name"

This past week I reconnected with a young woman I had not seen in some time. She was in a small group I was facilitating at church. In asking about her family, I found out her small son had been treated for a malignant tumor and was in the midst of a long series of chemo that had followed a hard regimen of radiation. I was totally taken back at the news and overwhelmed by the pain and suffering of not only the small child but the mom as well.

In the midst of our group discussion, a question was asked - I don't even remember what it was. The young woman started talking about an odd sleep habit she had and proceeded to tell a long, humorous, and somewhat disturbing story about an incident she had one night. As a discussion leader, I could tell this was traveling way off course and, usually, I would start trying to reel her back in. But there was a look in her eyes that made me stop myself. For a few brief minutes, the limelight was on her and she was the center of attention. It was for just a little while, totally about her, something that rarely happened anymore. This was about a physical quirk she had, not a serious malady her child had suffered. It was totally indulgent and totally meaningless in the larger than life realm of life she lived day by day. But she was there in that zone and I just let her go with it. We laughed, we asked questions, we commiserated with her -about her. Many in the group did not know her total story and in that anonymity there wsa comfort. In that small span of attention, she was the unattached center.

It truly was a place where "nobody knew her pain". It was good and just what the doctor ordered.

Falling In and Out of Love

Talking with a group of close friends last night. Touched on the word relationship. When I was a teenager, I had a friend that had been sexually abused as a child. In the day, society was not as open as it is now about such things. It is easy to look at and long for the "good ole days", but as I grow older I see that the days were good in part to the fact that I was young and naive. Also due to the realization that personal secrets and tragedies were not easily discussed or out there. There were family "secrets" and most of us were affected in some degree or another by them.

My friend had a problem with the word "Father" in addressing God. You see it was her father that was molesting her and drawing a connecting line between the two authority figures was abhorrent to her. Just recently, I had someone express the idea that the "relationship with God" was just as difficult for them. Relationships are tenuous as well as fraught with a myriad of emotions. Temporary, volatile, insincere - are just a few words they associate with that word. Evidently their experience in "relationships" was less than desirable and this was the last link they wanted to their eternal Being.

Today, my Relationship is supercharged. I am in love with a wonderful God. I can't get enough of being with Him, in Him, or reading about Him. I crave the company of like-minded friends and my fingers fairly fly over the keyboard as I write, discuss, or theolophisize (my word)with you on this page. I am diving in the depths of Him and I do not want to come up for air.

But that is this moment, this hour, this day. I know too well from past experience that this will not last. I will soon be sitting here, reading this blog, lackluster and remorseful. Where did it go? The passion of relationship, the joy of delving into the mystery of Who He is. It was here just a minute ago and I have misplaced it somewhere. I would really like to look for it, but I just don't have time right this minute. I have a new job, my husband, my children, my church are all pulling at me and I tell Him I will be right back. I place a bookmark in our relationship with all the conviction of returning after a brief respite but you know what they say about good intentions. They pretty much pave an entire freeway system with my name on it.

But the passion is still there - buried in the mire of making a living, paying bills, settling conflicts, listening to problems, resolving issues. And thank God that He does not leave me totally responsible for the unearthing. Something on the radio, a word or two from one of you, a squirrel swirling up my oak tree. All these things kick at the soil covering my passion and it still burns. It is under the debris, a few smoldering embers, that can be fanned into scorching flames by His Breath. And for a short while I am in love again.

Above the Love

I love to look up the origin of colloquial phrases. It is so amazing how words that once were used as a criticism are now a compliment. The story of the Good Samaritan, for one. The Samaritans were half-breeds, no accounts. A people not even good enough to worship with the Jews in Jerusalem.

My how that identification has changed over the years.

It reminds me of the children's song we sang when we were small, "Ring Around the Rosies". A few years back I found out it was a ditty derived during the time of the Black Plague in Europe. Folks would keep a pocket full of rose petals in hopes of warding off the illness and/or possible death. "Ashes, ashes, we all fall down". When I hear those words now, I "gets a shiver in me timbers"

I think it is also ironic how in the gospels, words such as Sadducee and Pharisee have become a moniker of evil when in reality they were the Jewish good guys. In the lectionary gospel passage, the Levite and the Priest are the low down good for nothings that pass the beaten man by. How many times has it been cussed and discussed why they did not offer their aid. The cleanliness laws, fear of being robbed and beaten, busy schedule. No one knows. But Jesus was very specific in describing them by their vocations. They were folks that "should" have stopped. They had no excuse, they were men of God. Heck, if anyone had an excuse not to stop, it was the Samaritan. In fact if the man had been conscious, he might have declined any assistance from such a person

So what is the point? Is it that I should stop and help travelers on the road when they have a flat tire? Or maybe I should realize that my neighbor may be the homeless guy sitting next to me on the bus. Maybe it is just to look at my life and see all the things that I do that are out of line. And if I am not doing them, then start.

What if I was intentional in doing things no one would expect of me. Like let someone in front of me at the check-out. Letting the guy into my traffic lane, even when I know he is cutting and not waiting his turn at the back of the pack like I did. Instead of thinking the good things about people and saying the critical things, turning it the other way around. Being transformed from Minimal Mamie to Magnanimous Mary Ann. In a world that does not expect kindness and graciousness, and just laying it on thick.

Talk about shaking things up a bit. They will wonder, why I did what I did. And then they will want to know who put me up to it. And I might just have to tell them.

Don't you love keeping folks on their toes! Have a good one...

Freedom

On this official holiday for the Holi-day before, I wish you a Happy Independence Day. I think that is cool. Having a day after to enjoy the freedom from work, the freedom from care.

I remember 4th's as a kid seeing fireworks being such an awesome thing. All day long you would think about it. My mom was a big decorator and everything was red, white, and blue in our house. It may be some corny fold out accordion centerpiece but we were true blue, literally. As kids, it seemed like the dark would never come. It is even tougher for kids today. With daylight savings, 9:30 is the firework seeing time in Texas.

And I remember the smells. The smell of mosquito repellent spray or the burning incense of the "coil". Charcoal smoke and the smell of slightly charred weiners, clinging to your seersucker short set. Proudly wearing your badge of mustard and sweet relish stain down its front.

Sitting on the ground on an old quilt at the feet of your parents and their friends. Learning as much about life from listening to them as the things you lived. The soft hum of crickets and a radio or two set on a station playing Stars and Stripes.

And the sights! The blackest black you could see, split by a shooting meteor of light, exploding with a sound of thunder filling the sky as our "oohs and aahs" joined the barking of neighborhood dogs. Unlike today, there was plenty of time between launching's to comment on the beauty of the colors or the shapes made by their residual puffs of smoke.

Nothing to compare to the displays of today, because the displays of today were nowhere to be found to compare with. Isn't that about the coolest things.

Today's best is the best because there is no tomorrow to compare it with. And it works the other way as well. Today's worst cannot compare with tomorrow's. For the simple fact, it ain't here yet. So why do I let myself get down in the dumps over something that may not happen or pin my hopes on some event that may never be. When the present is what He gives me, day by day. I can waste it away by wishing or longing. I can ruin it by regrets or fears. Or I can sit back and just enjoy what He has for me today. And have it to reminisce about tomorrow.

To top it off, if I have trouble living in the present, He can help me do just that!