Confession.

Let’s get cliche for a minute.  Ahhhh yes, the seasons of our lives.  It seems, practically speaking, I’ve been in the “riding on fumes” season for quite a while now.  But I have to say that it’s probably been a good thing. No – I know it has.  I’ve learned to trust God in greater ways than I ever thought possible – for me at least.  You hear the stories of people turning water into wine.  Or maybe you only heard that story once.  You know, the only time it actually happened?  But you get what I’m saying.  It’s possible.  Miracles and such.  God definitely provides.  He’s provided for me over the years consistently – usually exceeding my own trivial expectations. But there are those times when gold coins do not actually fall from the sky – or when your last three peas choose not to manifest themselves into steak and lobster.  And it is during those times that you may wish to employ more practical measures.

Observe:

Last year, right around the time my son was about to start kindergarten, it occurred to me I was broke.  I wasn’t particularly busted up about this since it had become a recurring theme in my life.  But in this particular instance, it did warrant understandable amounts of angst.  In addition to the many school supplies I had not yet purchased for my son – I still had not acquired any of the necessary school uniform items he needed in order to attend.  So of course I began to cry and feel sorry for myself – immediately allowing my mind to travel to the deepest, darkest, and most self-depricating trenches that existed within it.  However, while it is strangely satisfying to occasionally indulge yourself in a classic pity party, I knew this would not render any practical solution.

It then occurred to me that there was something I could do to which I cringed inwardly at the thought of.  My eyes quickly darted to the only thing I owned that had any sort of marketable value.  My guitar.  And yes, you’ve guessed it – I took that damn guitar down to the music shop and hawked it off so I could buy school clothes for my son.  A mother’s love knows no bounds.  Shameful as it may be.

Nevertheless, I can laugh about it now.  The thought of resorting to such a desperate measure as selling off personal items to provide for your family is not pleasant.  But – there is something to be said about the lengths we’ll go to and sacrifices we make for the people we love.  Even if it means hawking something.

Liberated from the shame.

You’re no Jesus.

Yesterday I became overly irritated with a local radio guy who posed a question I believe to have been transparently rigged.  It was the kind of question you know how you should answer but also understand that reality will not permit you to do so.  However, upon deeper evaluation of the question, I found myself irate with the audacity of this radio guy who was clearly setting individuals up to fail their answers on live radio.  But I became even more irate upon realizing the answer he provided was inadequate.

As an aside, I’ve listened to this guy for the past several weeks growing increasingly irritated with the way he boasts his “ultimate authority” stature on all things biblical.  But, I am aware that we all take a strong position on our beliefs and it would be unrealistic to expect his to be any less fervent.  The majority of us, however, do not have a radio platform to shove our views down the throat of listeners who are sometimes allowed a 30 second slot to interject their views on the given subject – nonetheless, sandwiched between this radio guy’s sarcasm and disdain if not similar in position.  Whatever – I’m still listening for some reason.

So yesterday when I was driving down the road and he asked:

Would your church hire a man who was homeless and single?

I was like, “Oh great.  This should be embarrassing for anyone who chooses to subject themselves to this shamelessly baited question.”

And sadly, there still existed within me a glimmer of hope that someone out there possessed the capacity for a level of sophisticated thought that could answer his question somewhat intelligently.  Yea right.  So why didn’t you call in,  Monica?  You bet your sweet buns I tried – to no avail.  Not that I possess the level of intelligence I am referring to.

So you’ve probably guessed the majority of individuals who were able to get air time said something like: Well…my church probably wouldn’t because it’s not a good example of lifestyle for a congregation if the  pastor is homeless and single…and all the other obvious and fundamental responses radio guy’s question begged.  Such as: It’s not really a good example of character.  How did he end up homeless to begin with?  It doesn’t really convey Godly success. (Whatever that means)  A single man can’t teach on family and spousal values.  Etc.

And perhaps the worst response of all, coming from a women, ugh: The church should not hire a homeless single man because the Church is not only a place to worship but also a business that needs to make money.

LOL WHAT?!?!?  OMG.  This was the one time I was okay with radio guys sarcasm which this women was unsurprisingly oblivious to as his commentary propelled her in a downward spiral of shameful, Christianese spectacle.

And yes, you’ve guessed it…radio Guy’s simple response to anyone else who demonstrated an eversion to the idea of their church hiring a single and homeless man as a pastor was as follows:

“Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” – Luke 9:58

Was this idiot really using this verse as the simple solution to the question he posed?  Seriously?  Some of you reading this might even be confused as to why I am so up in arms with this.  It’s true – the son of man had no place to lay his head and was never married.  This didn’t hinder him from being regarded by the majority of humans as the greatest teacher of all time.  Yes.  All true.

But let’s think about this for one second.  This radio guy seemed to have left out one crucial piece of the puzzle when lumping all potential pastors who are homeless and unwed into the “son of man has no place to lay his head” category…

Jesus was perfect.

The last time I checked there were no perfect people identified in the last couple thousand years besides Him.  So when considering the perfect life of Christ – in relation to his homelessness and singledom – it seems obvious that those pieces had nothing to do with his ability to preach gospel and appeal to the masses.

However, when considering how flawed the vast majority of humanity really is – even pastors – it hardly seems fair to offer a simple solution to the dillemma of hiring a single and homeless pastor.

It’s true that a qualified individual shouldn’t be ruled out on the basis of their socio-economic/marital status alone.  I mean, he could be living like a monk and of the highest ethical and moral stature – a real saint.  But let’s be real – it’s highly unlikely.  It’s possible that a candidate could have been dedicating his life to mission work – traveling here and there, like Jesus, with no real place to lay his head, never having married, and deciding to seek employment as a pastor…possible.  But it seems unlikely that a qualified candidate for a average corporate church would be coming from a situation of homelessness and singledom unless their circumstances stemmed from the previously stated scenarios.  So that if they were homeless and single it seems much more probable they have some underlying situation – which upon further investigation – might reveal an individual not possessing the appropriate character necessary to assume the role of pastor.  For serious. This ain’t no fly-by-night gig.  I’ll paraphrase:

Woe to you who be messing with my flock. -God

Whatever the case, I’m irritated by the simplicity of the response offered, nay, proclaimed as being the end all solution to a scenario far from simple.

Please Radio Guy.  Please.

What do you think?

can you hope in man?

It’s clear that life is full of disappointments.  Perhaps the most painful being those that rely on  relationships to produce a desired result.  We cant very well stay angry or hurt with our laptop or coffee maker if they fail to deliver what we expect. Although – I have screamed explanetives at my laptop a time or two.  However, the emotions are fleeting once realizing my exertions are being wasted on an inanimate object.  But people – oh yes – people.  Who can illustrate the depths of their failings – the offenses they carelessly impose on us. . .or seemingly so.  Is it possible to separate the individual from their actions and see something bigger –  or maybe not so big?  And more, can we remove all the layers of garbage we bring to the equation – the shit colored lenses we sometimes view the world through, in an effort to gain objectivity?  What is objectivity anyway?  What is real? I think  - therefore it is.  Is it?

How do I get outside of my own warped perceptions, above the clouds where the sun shines bright, to see the beautiful and complex truth of my circumstances?  Nothing is ever straight forward, as much as I’d like it to be.  There is a lesson in everything – some simple wisdom to be gained, perhaps.  At the very least, a fail leading to disappointment or consequence should hardwire a caution that hopefully equips us in avoiding the next plunder.  Right?  But our steps are ordered – can we be okay with the sovereignty of our existence – accepting struggles as lessons that refine?  I’d be lying if I said I have this figured out and I’m okay with all this.  

I don’t want to hope in people – for it is clear that every individual I’ve come close to disappoints me…in one way or another.  Do I crucify them for it?  No – of course not.  I most assuredly piss them of from time to time as well.  Maybe more than I am willing to admit.  What can I reasonably expect from my personal relationships then?  Respect at a most basic level.  But even the gas station attendant respects me to some degree – and frankly, that’s not enough.  It’s clear we are all looking for intimacy, loyalty, love.  These are precious commodities – especially in a world that thrives on instancy.  Because there is no immediate intimacy, loyalty is earned, love is developed.  

If it’s true that God can satisfy these needs in us alone, then please, somebody show me the way.  I’m tired of the religious cliches.  I want something real, permanent.  Please.  But just don’t let me be governed by expectations that cannot be fulfilled by man anymore.  It’s time to come up higher.  What am I learning here?  It’s fire…and it burns.

shifting disbelief to belief.

Things shift rather quickly with some minor adjustments to our thought life.  There is a force greater than our circumstances which is always at work within us.  We magnetize our will by fixating – demanding the best or expecting the worse.

Consequently, what is at work within most of us is naturally inclined to attract what is best.  When we resist this through our negative thought patterns, we neutralize its ability to bring us into all the good we hope for. We must change our thought patterns, align ourselves with what is good, expect the best, dream big.

If we simply discard all that does not align with what we hope for, replace it with the acceptance that we already have everything with limitless recourses already belonging to us, we will finally begin to actualize.

Faith?  Indeed.  It’s there to be discovered.  Seeing some light.

dirt.

dig a hole.

climb into it.

gone.

i need more God.

I saw a statement the other day that really burned me.  One of those things you read and immediately find yourself formulating a rebuttal to unravel the assertion.  It may or may not be something worth examining – but to me, it conjured an inner dialogue that’s lead to some pretty important revelations.

Ladies, don’t be a woman that needs a man.  Be a woman a man needs.

Okay – hold on a freaking second.  Seriously?  This really pissed me off.  Let me tell you why.

Any dummy could deduce that this statement wildly contradicts its command.  I believe the underlying message is that women should be whole and complete, not needing a man to pick up their lack or fill some sick void.  I get it, nobody likes a needy woman.  Although, I’ve seen many situations where the man enthusiastically assumes the role of caretaker to his woman and the woman eagerly submits – stands by her man, if you will – and they look to be happier than pigs in shit.  But I understand what this person was trying to say, wholeness is attractive.  And really, we should be whole characters before we unite ourselves with someone else, because we all know they will never be able to reconcile our need for self actualization.

However, I was concerned when I read this because it hardly seemed fair.  Why should the woman not need the man, but rather, be a woman the man needs?  So it’s okay for a man to need a woman but not the other way around?  Was I missing something here?  Perhaps I could have benefited from a bit of clarification.  I thought about what a woman could possibly have that a man could not live without.  What is it that women, exclusively, bring to the table that makes it okay for a man to need her?  I think my mind went too far.  Because I immediately conjured a visual resembling a 1950′s kitchen appliance ad.  Happy little housewife adorned in a ruffled apron, make-up neatly done, wielding a spatula with dinner on the table at 5:00pm sharp.  I mean honestly, what more does a man really need from a women other than her skills in domestication and sex – and we can even argue those as being a luxury and non-necessity.

Despite my disdain for the remark, I was forced to examine my own motives and desire for marriage.  What exactly was it I was hoping to glean from finally meeting the man of my dreams?  What could he offer me and likewise, what could I offer him?

I had to think about the history of my relationships with men, the dymamics, and what ulitmately caused the breakdown in all of them.  Yes, its true, they all broke down because I am presently single.  I wondered what from each of them was satisfying and on the flip, what was not.  Sadly, I came to a sobering conclusion.  At risk of outing myself as not being perfect I’ll go ahead and say it – I’m pretty sure I’ve been correlating my value to the degree in which these men expressed their desire for me.  Fail.

I recently went through an epic breakup.  I met the person totally happenstance and it took off like a shot.  One of those sort of relationships where you spend the first week staring at each other, drooling and then counting the ways, over and over and over again.  It was amazing.  I thought to myself, “wow, this is what it’s supposed to be like.”  I really thought I’d arrived – and even tricked myself into its validity by comparing it to a sad cliche related to turning 30 and having everything fall into place.  Yes, I had just turned 30 and thought this was the prize.  I’d made it 30 years, overcome much, and now God was blessing me with the cherry on top.

The thing that made this feel so amazingly epic were the non- stop affirmations this person offered me – even going so far as to bring God into it – “God showed me this about you…”, “When I look at you I see God”, “You are a gem”.  Not saying these are bad things to say or hear, but I’m pretty sure it did something for me that wasn’t necessarily in balance.  It was almost as though while hearing these things I was thinking to myself, “Really?  Wow.  Okay, yea.  It must be true.”  That was the problem.  Did I not already know those things?  I thought I did.  But the events that followed have proven to me that sadly, I did not.

Through a bizarre twist of events, my “God sent” relationship unravelled instantly for seemingly no reason at all.  There was no fight, no blowout, not even a conversation indicating things were failing.  Everything just stopped.  And all at once, I was paralyzed.

Now it’s easy to understand that anyone would probably be confused and hurt by the situation.  But I feel my reaction transcended the realm of “healthy”.  Outwardly, I demonstrated the normal behaviors that might accompany a situation like this. But my inner struggle was far worse than what I have been able to admit until now.  I’ll just say it, I actually wanted to go to sleep and not wake up.  How could this happen?  What was wrong with me?  How could someone say all those things then disappear? None of what he said was true.  Or was it?

Therein lies the dilemma.  I let this person tell me how valuable I was.  No – I let him define my value – and that is very hard for me to admit.  But I’ve accepted it.

I’ve traveled a long road of pain and healing.  I’ve worked through more than most people would in a lifetime.  I’ve come out on the other side pretty together – and I thank God daily for my life and where I am going.  Along the way I’ve developed a healthy confidence and respect for myself.  I really believed I had a handle on things.  But the one thing I’ve realized I haven’t quite gotten a hold of is this:

My value is not contigent upon anything other than who God says I am.  No man, job, or circumstance can ever add to or subtract from who God has created me to be and what He calls me.

Yes, I know, DUHS!!  Yea-yea. I get it.  Elementary stuff.  But it’s where I am at – realizing I really haven’t gotten a hold of this truth.  God help me.  Because THAT can never happen again.  I can’t let another man tell me who I am.  I just can’t.

So yes, I understand that I cannot be a woman that needs a man.  But I’d challenge that statement, altering it to say:

We cannot be a people that need ANYONE other than God.

I think that about covers it.  Any maybe now I’ll stop eating so many cookies.  Because I know what I really need.

some days.

I often say, “some days are not great.”  I’m not setting that up as if it were some original thought.  No. Indeed we’ve all had bad days – and have undoubtably thought the very same thing.  Maybe in that exact phrasing.

I am, by nature, an optimist.  I think God was gracious enough to design me that way, knowing it would come  in handy on the road I’ve traveled. Indeed – humor was the salve that soothed many of my scrapes and bruises.  But despite the optimism and mostly congenial personality, one fact remains – some days are not great.

Today was not great.

In realizing that, I took some time to examine how I might define or measure greatness as it relates to the overall success of my day.  What truly makes it great?  Did I win something?  ”What do we have for her, Bob!?!?!”  Did I accomplish a long term goal?  Help a person out?  I further asked myself, “Am I measuring my day’s greatness based on some gooey feeling I am expecting to accompany a success – however that may translate?”

BINGO!

It occurred to me – I often measure “greatness” on how I feel, while failing to look at what good may have been birthed out of a seemingly NOT great situation.  Seemingly because maybe it was uncomfortable – or maybe even painful.  Does this sound lame and shallow of me?  Maybe.  I must be the only one struggling here.  It’s okay – I’ll own it.  But really – who goes through pain or discomfort and says, “hey that was grrrreat?”  You may not choose option B: masochists.  Let’s generalize here and apply that question to the collective majority.  w/e

Yea – today was not great.  Or was it?

I found myself in a rather difficult spot – faced to recognize that I was unprepared for the level of responsibility that was required of me to move into a role I’ve only dreamt about.   Shirking bureaucracy and corporate structures – I cringed at my reprimand.  ”This is a bad day”, I thought to myself.  I demonstrated the outward appearance of humility – because afterall, that’s classy and we are all about appearances, right?

But not five minutes later I was forced to evaluate the same concern by a different individual.  My ears began to ring.  But not out of disdain.  My goodness, I am being given the opportunity to learn something here.  I paid careful attention and hung on to every single word of my superior.  There are those moments in life of the burning bush caliber – when you know for certain that God is speaking to you.  Today he was like, “Yo Moni B, listen up!  You got something to learn here.  GROW!”

It was the shaking I needed.  I get it.  And there is comfort in knowing that with a swift reprimand, if you choose to learn from it and grow, you are always pushed to new heights.

I am so grateful to be surrounded by people that I can learn from.  People who can mentor me.  How can I be better?  Well – today that question was answered.  And while under different circumstances and at a different point in my life I may have said, “today was not great”.  I am pleased that I have come to a place in my life when growing pains now translate to: today was great.

 

Well, most of the time.  Constantly growing.

Kahlil Gibran

Your pain is the breaking of the shell
that encloses your understanding.

Even as the stone of the fruit must break,that its
heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.

And could you keep your heart in wonder
at the daily miracles of your life, your pain
would not seem less wondrous than your joy;

And you would accept the seasons of your
heart, even as you have always accepted
the seasons that pass over your fields.

And you would watch with serenity
through the winters of your grief.

Much of your pain is self-chosen.

It is the bitter potion by which the
physician within you heals your sick self.

Therefore trust the physician, and drink
his remedy in silence and tranquillity:

For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided
by the tender hand of the Unseen,
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips,
has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter
has moistened with His own sacred tears.

- Kahlil Gibran

clone

God are you out there?  I can’t hear you right now – feel you.  I’m throwing punches in the air.  Feels like cutting through nothing. Completely unsatisfying. Like painting with the color: clear.  I’m living the soundtrack – Atonement.  There is an unsettling.  I pray you settle, dust.

People.  In and out like tides – I, the moon pushing them back and forth.

Lasso me – buffalo gals…

What draws them – only to wane them away – away with you.  What purpose do the start stops serve?  I’ve many half read books lying around.  Always coming – forever going.

you cannot come this time

instead you will write

type

send me a love poem

the “oh but if i coulds”

you will not

you will never be mine

valentine

cut from the same cloth

one with you

one with me

kid, you equal everything

i’m feeling strong now

we have to stop

just ten minutes more

no more

and what is it all for

the thrill of the

pretend i can have this

laptop lover

discover

we live inside

a fiber wire

carry me home now

my home is in you

we are the same

we are alone

clone

unavailable.

romantic a.m. car rides through the fog

you could show me how to work my electronics

buy external hard drives

paint

silk screen

we could make a movie together

shot on a flip cam

the soundtrack would be epic

night time beach walks

then sits

then lays

farmers market together

get some veggies

grill and drink wine

get all tangled up

braid our hair together

knock knees

beneath denim

sit on leather

together

dialogue about art

argue about art

then make up

wink wink

pick out hard wood floors

furnish the home

argue about that

and make up

could you please put your dirty clothes in the hamper?

sorry baby

wanna make up?

flower surprises

chocolate on pillows

love letters

poems

baths

for two

go to me

I’ll come to you

lets make waves

the ebb and flow

of how we do

each other

let’s sync up

upload me

in

to  you