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Monthly Archives: September 2013

Fear and ignorance could have killed me.

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I can’t let other people’s fear keep me from taking care of my health.

I didn’t get a mammogram for years because everybody told me how painful it was. Friends and comedians would joke that getting a mammogram was like slamming your breast in the freezer door, or putting it in a vise. Who would want to do that?

I didn’t go to a gynecologist because my mother never impressed on me that I should. She never went as far as I knew, once she had stopped having children. She thought that sex was dirty. Sex was something you did once a week as a duty to your husband. So she certainly didn’t teach me how to keep my female parts healthy.

Also, friends talked about how uncomfortable it was to go to the gynecologist. Awkward, unpleasant, strange – they really weren’t selling it as something I should do. They always talked about going for a checkup as a chore, kind of like how my Mom talked about sex. One even said she’d rather have a root canal than go to the gynecologist. Either she has a great dentist or a terrible gynecologist.

Then three years ago I read “The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks” and I realized that a woman in her 30s could die of cervical cancer. For some reason I thought that was an older woman’s disease. So I went for my first checkup in 20 years. I found that I had moderate to severe cervical dysphasia. Not cancer, but cancer’s next door neighbor. I had surgery to get it removed. If I had waited, I’d be dead by now from something totally preventable.

Fear and ignorance could have killed me.

Now I’m going to a chiropractor. My friends are now saying what they’ve always said about chiropractors. They are quacks. They insist you come a lot and they don’t promise anything. They heard of somebody who got paralyzed by one. But if I’d gone to a regular doctor for my slipped disc a week ago I would have been given pain pills and muscle relaxers. I still would have had a slipped disc. I just wouldn’t have cared.

I’m sure there are true stories of chiropractors who have accidentally harmed patients. But how many regular doctors have perfect records? There is a reason medical malpractice insurance is expensive. Nobody is perfect.

My chiropractor has a good point. We get our teeth checked twice a year, and if one of them goes bad we can get a replacement. We can’t replace our spine, yet we never check it.

Sure, I’m not happy about having to go several times a week, but it isn’t forever. It is just for a few months, then it won’t be that often. Plus, it feels amazing.

I like to think of my back as like a bonsai tree. Change can’t happen overnight. When I had braces it took 4 years to get my teeth straight. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and my back won’t be healed overnight.

Meanwhile I’m going to try to unlearn a whole lot of nonsense that I was taught, and try not to spread any more of it around.

Kidnapping? Or just a tired kid?

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I was on my lunchtime walk today and heard a child screaming. I looked to my left and saw a skinny man in a dingy t-shirt hauling a young girl in pink to his car. Was she not ready to go home? (The playground was nearby) Was she tired? (It was around 1:30, a common time for kids to need a nap) Or was she being kidnapped?

I stopped walking the way I was headed and started walking towards them. I considered taking a picture of his car. It was beat up, ratty, faded blue. It was a cheap car. He suited it. He had stubble and a ball cap. He looked trashy. I started to regret that there was a stream between us so I had to walk the long way around. It made me take a little more time than I wanted.

When I got there he had already put her in her car seat in the back. I stopped on the passenger side, where I could see him and her, but not put me in a vulnerable position. He had rolled down the front passenger window to cool the car off. He hadn’t driven off quickly. She had stopped crying. I thought maybe I’m jumping the gun, but I’d rather be sure. She looked to be around 7. I asked in a sing-song voice “What’s the matter?” while looking at her. I wanted to seem non-confrontational, but obviously I am confronting him. I wanted to seem like a casual observer, an interested passerby.

He told me that she didn’t want to leave. “You know how little girls are. I had a little boy once and he was fine.” Notice he said “I had a little boy once.” He didn’t say “my son”. This really didn’t feel right all over again.

I looked her in the eyes, willing her to tell me that something was wrong, or everything was alright. Nothing. She gave me nothing.

He gave her a drink to sip on. Surely only a Dad would think to have a beverage for his kid, right? Nope. A smart kidnapper would do the same to keep the child quiet. So that didn’t help me figure this out.

I was going to have to push it a little. I looked at her and asked her – “Do you know each other?” I got nothing from her. I was a stranger. Don’t talk to strangers, you know. But I’m a small woman. I’m not threatening. But yes, I’m a stranger, and this is a strange interaction. I don’t blame her for not answering.

He got defensive. “She’s my daughter!” I pointed out that screaming like that sounds like she’s being kidnapped. I kept looking at her. Nothing. I wondered again what to do. I felt it out. I weighed everything I knew, everything I saw. I wasn’t getting that “push” feeling I get when I have to act.

I decided to let it go. His story could be true. By this point no other parent is running up. I’ve bought some time. He looks like a strict disciplinarian. She hasn’t indicated to me that anything is wrong. She also hasn’t indicated everything is right.

I backed off. I walked away. And then I stopped, looking at the car, looking at them. He drove away, slowly. She didn’t scream. She didn’t hit on the windows. I still felt like something was off, but I don’t think he was kidnapping her. I think he was her Dad, and that he was frustrated and tired and not sure how to deal with a child who is equally frustrated and tired.

I don’t know what I would have done if I’d actually thought he was kidnapping her. I could have called the police but I had no way of keeping him there until they came. Take pictures – of him, the car, the license plate? This would probably be my best option. That way I’d have something to give the cops.

I still don’t know for sure what happened. But I’m glad I stopped.

Kindergarten 9-25-13

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I was able to get to work with three children today, all of which I had before. It is amazing and delightful to see progress and disheartening to see them still stuck in some areas. Sometimes it isn’t school that is the problem. Sometimes there are home problems and school is the last thing on their minds.

V was much more focused today, which is encouraging. She likes to draw and make up stories. I’m totally for creativity, but when it is time to work we have to get cracking. She stayed working with me a lot longer this time and did great on her numbers. She still is a little wonky on her letters, but she is getting better.

At the end of my tutoring session today I found out from her teacher that yesterday was an entirely different story. Numbers were impossible. 5 fingers resulted in an answer as varied as 5, 2, and 8. But yesterday she also heard from V that her Mom was in the hospital. Mom is in the hospital because she is an alcoholic. This changes everything. Of course she is distracted. Of course she wants to make up stories. Who would want to focus when that is happening? When you are five your whole world revolves around your mom. If she isn’t well, then everything else falls apart. I will give her extra attention next week.

Sometimes what we give them isn’t learning, it is love. Sometimes the greatest thing is just to spend time with them, one on one, and let them shine. Sometimes the teacher will assign a new child to me just because something bad is going on at home. We work together on them, to help them get over the humps of life. Sometimes healing can come in the form of something as simple as reading a book together.

Today I also had S. He is a delightful Mexican boy, all smiles and sunshine. He worked hard and is doing well. I’m curious how long he will need me.

I only get the kids who are at the bottom. When they are doing better they go to the next tutor. I like the challenge of trying to figure out new ways to get the information into them. Fortunately the kids haven’t realized that there is a pattern to who I work with, so there isn’t a stigma. In fact, when I come on Wednesdays they all clamor to work with me. It is kind of cute. I try to make learning fun, so they just see it as a game. Sometimes when I “pick” a student (I don’t pick, the teacher provides a list for me) he or she will say “Yes!” and think this is great. This makes my job so much easier.

One of the students who gets excited when I “pick” him is J. I worked with him today as well. I think he might be dyslexic. I can tell learning is hard for him. I gave him easy things to work on to build up his confidence. We have a blue letter board that is really cool to work with. Letters are really hard for him, and he was mixing up h and n and u. I can understand that. They look at lot alike if they are flipped around.

Letters are hard. They are just symbols after all. We take for granted how easy it is to read, but really it hard because it isn’t a native intelligence. It is all symbols. This shape doesn’t “mean” this sound at all. There is nothing logical about it. It is rather arbitrary. Nothing drives this home more than teaching a five year old his letters.

At the end I wrote up my impressions. This helps the teacher know what are their strengths and weaknesses. Interestingly they will work differently with me than with her. She and I see different faces. When one is obstinate on one area with her, he will be perfect with me.

When I came in to return my impressions and pick up my keys, J hugged me. Hugs from kindergartners are so sweet. When I first got hugged three years ago I wasn’t sure what to do. I was caught off guard.

We have rules that we learn. Don’t touch strangers. Hold your emotions in.

Kindergartners don’t know these rules yet. Sure, they know me, a little. They know my name, and I work with them a little every Wednesday. But adults who know me better don’t hug me. It is just a social rule. We are a very hands-off kind of society.

But hugs from kindergartners are the best. They are so loving and open. I think the world would be a better place if we all had that kind of love and were able to show it. I think this may be the answer to everything.

Hug more. Cry when you are sad. Go play outside for an hour every day. Color. Take a nap with a teddy bear. Make up stories.

Maybe being a kindergartner is the secret to happiness.

Praying in color 9-23-13

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I’m not able to do this every day. Or, to be more honest, I don’t make time to do this every day. But here’s what I got recently. It is kind of like a fishing trip. Sometimes I get something, and sometimes I don’t.

For those of you who don’t know, “Praying in Color” isn’t my idea. I got the idea from a book of the same name. The idea is that you take out your pens or colored pencils and you doodle. You pray beforehand, with a specific prayer intention. It can be a prayer for a friend who needs it, or something for the world, or a specific question that you have that you need help with. While doodling, answers or feelings come back.

As for me, I write down my intention at the bottom on the back, and the answers above that. I’ll get answers throughout the process. I use watercolor pencils, and I’ll “paint” the finished piece afterwards if I feel like it. This is a good medium for me because it is quick – I can get something in about ten minutes. It is simply a way of accessing a different part of your brain so that God can get in.

I drew this piece on 9-23-13 after my second visit to the chiropractor. That is when I found out I have scoliosis, and a lot more visits (and a lot more expense) in my future. This is what I prayed about. How can I afford this? How do I deal with the pain? I feel like I never get ahead – that the moment I gain, something comes up and I go back again.

pray 9-23-13

The answers –
We hold on to the shore because we are afraid.
Even if you have nothing, you still have something.
This teaches us that good (art) can come out of bad situations.
“How many reminders do you need to know that I am with you?”

Sometimes the answers are just feelings, and sometimes they are direct words. Sometimes I write more than this, but I always know when it is over and time to stop. Here are my reflections on the answers:

Change is frightening to us, but if we don’t let go of the shore we’ll never learn how to swim. We are funny creatures – we hate change, but we also get bored easily so really we want change. We are never happy.

There is always something to be thankful for. Find it. Celebrate it. Even if you are without a house, you still have your life and your mind. If you aren’t thankful for what you have, how will you be thankful for anything else? Be thankful, and everything opens up.

Good comes out of bad. Pain is a great teacher. It focuses us. It limits us and forces us to decide what is important. Bad childhoods can result in careers where we choose to serve others, because we understand their pain. If everything stayed even all the time, we’d never have to grow or stretch or get stronger.

The last one says it all. God is constantly with us, and we constantly forget. God will never forsake us.

These are for sale if you are interested. Please comment with your information if so. They are about 4.5 inches by 6 inches, on watercolor paper. The price is whatever you would like to offer.

What causes what? On pain – mental and physical.

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Do we have physical pain because of psychological trauma, or do we feel psychological pain because of physical trauma? Are they really separate – and can we fix one with the other? Can we use physical manipulation to work out psychological issues? Can we use our minds and different ways of thinking to work out physical pain?

I get very angry after I eat chocolate. I know, weird, right? Most people feel really happy after they eat chocolate. But remember some medicines say that they may cause drowsiness or excitability. These are polar opposites. Chocolate is like that for me.

It took me years to figure out that there was a connection. Twenty minutes after eating more than like half a bar of chocolate I became the meanest person in the room. It was like PMS on steroids. Everything made me angry. Everything felt wrong. I was a huge pessimist, and everybody around me was stupid and worthless.

Somehow I managed to figure out the connection. I stopped eating chocolate – or if I had any it was just one piece.

Then one day I decided to do an experiment. Nobody was around for me to yell at. This seemed only fair.

I ate some chocolate, determined to feel whatever feeling it was going to present. I wanted to see it head on and not turn aside from it. This time it was different. I felt a physical pain in my shoulders. There was a tightness that had not been there before. I’m wondering if that was always there after eating chocolate, and because I was in pain, I got angry. Perhaps it has always caused that pain, and I didn’t notice it. Perhaps I felt bad because of that pain and it came out as irritable.

Pain makes people not themselves. Pain transforms people. Pain can also be a great teacher. It can let you know that something is wrong, or that you are resisting when you need to let go.

I’m trying to come to grips with my back pain. Sure, I’ve seen the x-ray. I have scoliosis. A disc slipped out of place because of it. But is this a symptom? Is there some emotional issue that is coming out? Mental pain tends to take the route of least resistance. I’m reading “You Can Heal Your Life” by Louise Hay, and some of it is quite intriguing. Some of it sounds like “blaming the victim” however, so I’m skeptical. She says that back problems are a sign of “repressed rage.”

And I thought I was doing well. I just recently got to the point that I could admit I was angry. There are a lot of things that I’m not happy about, things that I think should have gone differently in my past and things that I think should go differently now. I’ve dug down to the root and found grief. Somewhere on that journey the two cancelled each other out and I found some measure of calm. It all stems from not accepting what is. It stems from not accepting, period. Sometimes the biggest pain comes from fighting the situation.

Don’t we need to fight situations sometimes? Shouldn’t we get upset about certain things? Otherwise slavery would have continued. Otherwise women wouldn’t be allowed to vote. Otherwise all sorts of things that some people thought of as normal and other people thought of as wrong would have continued, unabated. Anger can be a force for change.

But there has to be more to this. “Repressed rage”? That sounds really harsh. Nobody wants to have rage. Rage is anger gone crazy. Rage is ugly. Rage is a sign of a lack of control. The Hulk has rage. All the super villains are filled to the brim with rage. It is their undoing.

How do you get rid of rage? No really, how? Sometimes I do things backwards, and what seems really simple to me is really hard for everybody else – and what seems really hard for me is really simple for everybody else. I got labeled “gifted” in second grade but that doesn’t mean that I know how to take care of a house or plan a week’s worth of meals. In many ways I’m very backwards. So I think I’m doing it right, and then my back flares up again. Maybe it just isn’t time for that part of the game yet. Maybe I am missing that puzzle piece.

Sometimes I feel like when I reach an impasse in my life, it is like I’m stuck in an adventure game.

Yes, I like that metaphor. I use it a lot. It works. Perhaps adventure games are modeled on life, instead of the other way around. Whatever. Work with me here.

I’ve been all over the first level inside the mansion, and I can’t get out to the garden to continue on with the rest of the game. Sometimes I can find a hint, and it refers to something I should have noticed four screens and twenty minutes ago. It was right there – the green heart! I needed it to put in the statue so I could get the code for the box that has the key to the garden. The green heart was in plain sight on the bookshelf. I didn’t notice it because I was distracted by something else on that screen.

So life is like that for me. I miss things that should be obvious, while figuring other things out that should be hard. Meanwhile I get stuck, wondering how to get out of the situation and go on with things.

There are a lot of things I have started doing in the morning to reduce stress. I think of them as taking a multi-vitamin for the day. I eat a healthy breakfast, I read the Daily Office, I do some light yoga, I write, and if I can, I draw. That is a lot of stuff to try to do in the morning. Somehow I can never manage to get up when the alarm goes off so I miss 30 minutes of that time. Just trying to shoehorn all that in along with checking email and Facebook just seems to be stress-inducing itself. So I’m trying to reassess what I do.

Exercise is good for burning things out too. I go to the Y and I exercise at least three times a week. I walk at lunch for 20 minutes. I write while I walk, and while I eat lunch. Perhaps I’m trying to do too much. Perhaps I need to spend some more time doing “non-productive” things and start reading more fluff and less technical stuff. Perhaps I need to stop having so many rules about what is safe and healthy to eat. But then I worry about that too, and I don’t want to backslide.

I know moderation is the key. Balance is important in everything. Walking the middle path, and not going to extremes, and all that.

The funny part is, I’ve been here before, with other things. This is the same story, but just with different characters. And I know that God has already given me everything I need to get to the next step. I feel that it is right in front of me and I just can’t see it. Sometimes I feel that life is just one series of pop quizzes from God after another.

My spiritual advisor says to “invite Jesus into it.” I’ve done that. He’s not answering the phone. Or he is, and it is just such a simple answer that I can’t believe it so I’m ignoring it. Kind of like the story of Naaman and the prophet Elisha (2 Kings, chapter 5 if you want to look it up). It sounds too easy, so it can’t be true.

Or I just want the quick fix, when really it is going to take a while.

Last night I was feeling really anxious about something, and instead of trying to jump right past it and get to the not-feeling-anxious feeling, I decided to stop and just look at it, and just see it as a feeling. Just see it, as it was, and not label it as “bad” but just as it is. Poof. It disappeared.

Maybe it is time to not run away from my pain and what very well might be rage. Maybe it is time to see it and accept it. Maybe it is time to sit down with Jesus and say “Here is my rage. What are we going to do about it?”

And maybe Jesus will hold it, and me, tenderly, and cry with me about it.

Bonsai Betsy

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I found out today that I have scoliosis. This is why the disc in my back slipped out of place last week. The bend in my back isn’t so bad that I’d noticed anything wrong before now. Now that I know, I can see the signs. The wear pattern on my shoes is a pretty good clue.

My chiropractor says I need three adjustments every week for about a month, then it will taper off and I won’t have to go as often. Even with insurance this will cost me $45 a visit. This is a lot of money, especially after all the other expenses I’ve had recently.

I’m not happy about having to spend more money right now. We’ve got money in savings but I like having more of a cushion for emergencies. I’ve got plenty of sick time and there are extra people in my department right now so I can take time for appointments. It is doable, but I’m not happy about it.

But I need my back. If my car didn’t work I could figure something out. I could get a ride to work, or I could borrow my husband’s car and he could take the bus to work. There are ways. But there is no getting around needing a spine that works correctly.

It isn’t like having crooked teeth and getting braces. Well, kind of it is. That too takes a long time and isn’t cheap, and it hurts. I had braces. I remember. But surgery isn’t recommended for what I have now, just adjustments. That alone is something to be thankful for.

Essentially the doctor is doing body-shop work on me. Essentially my body was in a very slow collision with life and gravity and possibly genetics. I need a front-end alignment on my back end. I’m a bonsai tree that hasn’t been tended properly.

I never knew I could amuse myself so much talking about my deformity.

I have a feeling that there is a punch line coming up. I have a feeling that there is a plan for all of this. I trust God. I know that everything has a reason, and everything happens because it is part of God’s plan.

I also know that sometimes we don’t get to see that reason, and sometimes we are the collateral damage.

People like resolutions. We like to know what the ending is. We like to know that the guy gets the girl and they both ride off into the sunset together. But God doesn’t work that way. God works in God’s time and in God’s ways and there is just no getting around that.

God isn’t in the storm. God is the still, small voice.

God never said this journey of life would be easy, but instead promised to always be with us.

This is really important to remember. Trusting God, loving God, serving God isn’t about everything being awesome all the time. In fact it can be pretty awful. But part of it means trusting that God is in charge, and God has a plan, and that everything will work out the way it needs to work out.

We often can’t see around the corner. We often live with uncertainty. We often don’t know what to do. So we pray, and God tells us, one instruction at a time.

Stay here. Move forward one step. Go this way. Stop. Wait. Move back one. Wait.

When Abraham started listening to that still, small voice, he did that in faith. When Noah built that ark and gathered up all the animals, he did that in faith. When Peter walked out on that water towards Jesus, he did that in faith.

This is what we do, when we walk with God. It isn’t easy. It is pretty scary sometimes. It is like walking on a tightrope, with our eyes closed, with no net.

Passing the test.

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Did you ever see Stan Lee’s TV show “Who Wants to be a Superhero”? The contestants were assigned tasks, but there was a hidden assignment that they didn’t know about. In one they had to get from point A to point B really fast – but there was a distraction. A young girl was on their route, crying loudly about how she was separated from her mom. Unbeknownst to the contestants, she was an actress – and this was the real test. The ones who passed the test that round were the ones who stopped and helped her. They didn’t worry about being late on their time – their focus was in helping.

How often do we notice what the real test is? How often do we stop and take time to help?

I admit I’m terrible at it. I have a lot of excuses why I can’t help.

I’m late getting to work. I have ice cream that is going to melt. I don’t know how to help. I don’t have the tools, the training, the time.

So I don’t stop. I drive on by. A lot.

When I do stop, I find that I actually do have everything that is required. I think it is going to require a cast, and really it requires a band-aid. I think it is going to require a therapist, and really it just requires a hug. I’m starting to think that I certainly don’t have to stop for everything, but the things I do get over my fear and stop for turn out to be things that are within my power.

Sometimes my problem is that I don’t want to get too involved. I don’t want to make personal connections. It is way too common that people I help start to see me as something other than a servant. They start to see me as special. They mistake the messenger for the message. They start trying to follow me instead of the One I follow. They ask for my phone number. They want to become friends on Facebook.

It isn’t me. It isn’t me at all. It never was me. I’m just the face that God wears sometimes. I’m just the hands that God uses sometimes. When they see me again, I’m more than likely just going to be me, plain old me, not special, not sparkly.

So sometimes I don’t want to get involved for me, and sometimes I don’t want to get involved for God. I don’t want people to mistake me being me as a slight. Because when God is working through me, it is really amazing. There is a connection. There is understanding, and healing, and compassion.

Me? I’m an introvert. I feel lost in a crowd. When I’m just me and the Spirit isn’t there, I’m not all that. I’m not bad, but I’m not what they think I am.

Sometimes I warn people if I think I’ll see them again. I had to do this a lot in college. The energy often isn’t there the next time. That energy doesn’t mean that “we are meant to be together.” It doesn’t mean that we should “hook up.” It doesn’t mean I’m going to be your guru or your girlfriend. It just meant that God needed me to help you right then, and I listened.

Does this mean I’m passing the test, or failing it? While I think it is essential to always point people towards God, I think it is also important to always be a vehicle for God. I’m not, always. It is tiring. It is hard. But then again, so is exercise, and I do that because I think I’ll get stronger if I do it. Perhaps this faith-walk is the same.

I still don’t think I’m going to stop to change out a tire for somebody, especially when I have just bought ice cream.

Keeping the Sabbath at home.

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Recipe for how to keep the Sabbath at home: intention, exercise, silence, and tea. You don’t have to go to a retreat to have the benefits of going to a retreat. You can have this at home.

For me, part of it is that I go to the YMCA first and exercise. I suspect any exercise would be good, anywhere. Going for a walk and admiring God’s creation even if it is just walking around your neighborhood is always good. Get some sunlight and fresh air, and strengthen the temple that is your body. As for me, I like going to the YMCA because it is one of the few public places where I can talk about God with like-minded people. I get to strengthen my faith as well as my body.

When I get home, I try to commit to using no electronic devices – no TV, computers, tablets, Kindle, smartphone – you get the picture. The idea is that you are only communicating with God, so silence is optimum.

Pick an amount of time that works for you. At least an hour is a good start.

Read holy scriptures. This is essential. It is your choice as to how you interpret that.

Having a candle burning while you read can be useful.

Also, pick some non-reading activity. You can garden, paint, bead, or draw for instance. Just don’t do anything that is a “have-to” or an assignment. Do stuff that kind of distracts you enough to let God get a word in edgewise.

God can speak to us through anything. The trick is to give God space to talk to us. We spend so much time talking to God, we forget to pause long enough to listen. It is just like talking to a friend. You have to make space for your friend to answer.

For me, it is mandatory to have tea and cookies at the end.

Give thanks to God for the time that you were able to spend, and for any answers to prayers that you received.

Coming out as Christian in public.

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This may sound strange, but I’ve noticed that I get emotional when I feel free to talk about God with people. And I mean with, not at. I mean I get a little weepy when I’m around people who are on the same page with me when it comes to how awesome God is.

I wonder if this is the same as coming out. I feel more like myself when I’m around other people who “get” God. I feel like I’ve had to hide who I am for a long time.

Now, this may sound strange because I live not only in America, but in the South. Christians are in the majority here. The South is sometimes jokingly referred to as “the buckle of the Bible Belt.” Yet there is a stigma. So many Christians don’t want to be associated with “those” people who say they are Christian but they act anything but. You know who I mean. Those people who hold up “God hates…” signs and burn the Koran. Those people who take pride in their cultural ignorance and in telling people who aren’t exactly like them that they are going to hell.

Out of self defense a lot of actual Christians are really subtle about their faith.

In a way it is like a Mason finding another Mason. The signs are there if you know what to look for. When they do find each other they connect and communicate on a different level.

I never want to make other people uncomfortable, especially when talking about God. This is why the blog helps. Don’t like it, don’t read it. It isn’t pushy like an in-person encounter would be. I’m comforted by the number of friends who are atheists or agnostic or pagan who read my blog. I’m unabashedly Christian, but they still like to read what I have to say.

In public it is different. I often wear a cross, because I want to let people know it is safe to talk about God with me. It is like speaking another language. Somehow we shift how we talk when we realize that each other is on the same wavelength.

I’ve learned other languages and about other cultures. I try to figure out where other people are coming from so I know how to communicate with them. When I was working at the Chattanooga Choo Choo, the most common non-English language was German. I could talk in German for quite a while. This is true about other cultures as well. Wherever you are from – culturally, religiously, socially, I’ve probably read something about your story. I think it is part of being a good neighbor and a global citizen.

It is something I like to be able to do – I want to make other people feel comfortable. I like being able to adjust how I talk so that we can communicate. I get to where they are, rather than expecting them to get where I am. But it takes a lot of work. After a while it is very tiring. It is far easier and more relaxing when I don’t have to do this.

It is kind of like how I feel when I go to a science fiction convention. I feel I’m finally around people who are like me. We can talk about the things we love and not feel like we are weirdos because of it.

I’m still angry that I didn’t find that kind of feeling and camaraderie at my old church. I’m still angry that my priest actually told me to stop talking about God talking to me. I’m starting to feel that she did me a favor because otherwise my spiritual growth would have remained stunted. I was starting to resemble a bonsai, with tiny roots and a stunted, artificial shape. God wants us to have deep roots, so we are strong. God wants us to grow to our full potential so that God is glorified. Some ministers feel threatened by their congregants getting strong and growing in their faith, but that is just a sign of their own shaky ground.

I’ve currently been piecing together my own version of a faith community. I have a friend who hosts a circle gathering quarterly where about a dozen people share their hearts. We listen together. Many people in this gathering are former members of an alternative church. They went there because they’d been ostracized from “normal” church. Even that wasn’t what they needed. I understand this feeling. I also go to a spiritual director monthly. I’ve learned more about how to drive this “bus of faith” from her than I ever have from any minister. I have another friend who is a spiritual director and she hosted the retreat I recently went on.

All of these experiences are healing to me. It is so refreshing to be around other people who are comfortable talking about how much they love God and what God is saying to them.

But then these are expected circumstances. I expect to find people who are comfortable talking about God at a circle gathering or a retreat. It is when I find like-minded souls out in “the real world” that I get emotional.

I needed to find a chiropractor recently. My coworker had recommended hers months ago but I’d forgotten his name. Rather than call her, I pulled up the doctor directory for my insurance and prayed. I asked God to show me who to pick. One name shone out. I called. They were taking new patients. I could see him in an hour. His office was nearby, and in fact close to another doctor I go to. I felt a lot better that I didn’t have to find a new place. That eased my anxiety. This is a new thing for me to pray before something as mundane as picking out a doctor. So these positive signs helped confirm that I’d heard correctly.

Then there was a sign on his office building with a quote from Paul – “All things work together for good…” – this helped. It was something I needed to see. I’m having a hard time trusting this whole experience as being part of God’s plan because it hurts and it is expensive. So that helped. He had numerous signs that I could “read” as being Christian, but they weren’t obnoxiously so. Hopefully you know what I mean.

I felt comforted, and affirmed. I felt like I’d heard God’s call correctly. I felt at home, which is a good thing to feel when you are in pain and in an unfamiliar environment. And I felt like I could relax and be myself. That alone was healing.

It is exhausting having to hide who I am. I’m grateful to be able to blog about what being a Jesus-follower means to me. I’m grateful to find people who are fellow pilgrims on this journey – it is like finding an oasis. I look forward to finding a new faith community, so I can drink of this living water more often.

“What you focus on expands”

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I don’t have children. I read a lot of child-rearing books though. Whether someone is three or thirty, the same rules apply. Often you can learn about how to deal with adults by reading books about how to deal with children. Sometimes adults are simply children in bigger bodies. Getting older doesn’t always mean getting wiser.

I know a lady who insists that dog-training books are useful for learning how to deal with husbands. I know I’ve certainly learned a lot about customer service by watching “the Dog Whisperer.”

Either way, energy is energy. It is all about how you direct it and how you spend it. It has nothing to do with changing the other person. It has everything to do with changing yourself. If you present positive energy, you’ll get positive energy back. If you expect trouble, you’ll find it. So change yourself first.

The basic message that I’ve gotten from these sources is that any attention is better than no attention. So if you ignore your child (or dog, or coworker, or customer) when he is behaving correctly, and yell at him when he is misbehaving, he will keep misbehaving. Ignore the bad behavior, and praise the good.

Ignore what you don’t want. Don’t give it any energy.

People want energy, and they will take it any way they can. Even if it is negative, it is better than nothing.

Workplaces do their employees a huge disservice when they only communicate with their employees when they have made a mistake. It is far healthier to praise them for doing something right.

I have had several bosses who never got this. Their opinion was that you should know when you were doing right. You should know how to do your job, and take pride in it. They only talk to their employees when they messed up.

To them, they messed up a lot.

There is a lot to be said for praise. There is a lot to be said for letting people know that they are doing well. We all need to hear when we have done well.

Now, does this apply to everything? Can we take this and apply it to all things –not just people? Can we apply it to pain, and loss, and hurt? Can we apply it to physical as well as emotional pain?

Maybe. I’m working on it.

It seems like focusing on the good is always a good idea. Oprah says “What you focus on expands.” This seems very useful. You just have to be mindful of what you focus on – what you give attention to.

I’m reminded of the phrase “You’ll either find a way, or you’ll find an excuse.” It is your choice.