Re-entry

Two days back from Mali and my heart, head and body ache a little.

God brain

A year or so ago, a brain study found that people who believe in God or have religious experiences have a different brain structure than those who don't. You can read a summary of the research here.

I find this kind of fascinating... especially given that my dad and I are on completely different ends of the spectrum as it relates to God. My father is an atheist and I am a washed by the blood of the lamb born again Christian.

But does the fact that there seems to be a physical difference between believers and non-believers actually have any bearing in whether God is real... or whether he calls us all, equally, to be in relationship with him?

I imagine the non-believing folks with non-believing brains would like to say that some anomaly in my brain is the source of my fantasy that God exists. I, of course, think it is just the opposite. For me, a person with the non-believing mind is a little like someone who is color blind. Their physiology prevents them from seeing the color red. But their inability to see it doesn't mean that red doesn't exist.

A person born blind can't see the world at all... but it doesn't mean that the beauty of the world is the figment of the imagination of those of us who are sighted.

The article about the brain physiology went on to say that the God believer brains had more real estate in the compassion and social centers. I wonder if people are born with that extra brain power, or if the belief in God somehow rewires us to be more compassionate.

The study didn't address cause and effect. It didn't research the brains of converts, before and after. To me, that would be fascinating... to see if our physiology actually changes when we become believers.

The Catholic in me....

When I was in high school in Providence, we always joked about Saki's pizza on Weybossett Street: It's the Italian restaurant with the Japanese name run by Greeks.

My religious landscape is a little like that: She's the charismatic catholic at heart who goes to a low Episcopal Church and works in an Evangelical ministry.

And maybe I am not actually a Catholic at heart. But Catholicism definitely informs how I engage with the church and the world. I love liturgy, believe that the sacraments confer God's grace, am driven by the Holy Spirit and love (LOVE) scripture. A spiritual mutt if ever there was one.

So, how does this all look on the ground? Well, for one thing, my catholic sensibilities (and I do mean catholic with a small 'c' in this case) are the very thing that have kept me from leaving the Episcopal church and finding some other place to worship. They have kept me at Grace through what proved to be a rough transition to it's new Rector. They have kept me tithing even when I didn't feel like it. And they keep me reading the psalms every night, day in and day out (with some exceptions) for 7 years now.

My evangelical friends often wonder why I don't just leave my church (or denomination, for that matter...) and my response is that if we all just left our churches or denominations every time something came up that we didn't agree with, there'd be 30,000 different churches. Oh wait, there are.

Which isn't to say that if God dropped a thunderbolt and ordered me to mosey on my way, I wouldn't.... When I was a Unitarian who had come to Christ, God did just that, on the second anniversary of my baptism. I was sitting on a beach in Duxbury MA, at a leadership retreat for the lay leaders of my church, and Jesus basically gave me a right hook across the head. That is when I left the Unitarian church.

But he hasn't done that with me at Grace. So some weeks I sit in the pew clinging to the fact that I am there to worship, because it is the one thing I can hang on to.

Then I go home and read psalms of exile.

Shakespeare it's not...

...But I have been reading over some of my earliest blog posts this morning, and it is amazing to revisit the early part of my walk with Christ. I don't think it is a coincidence that I started this blog in 2005, right about the time I left the Unitarian Universalist Church and began seeking a Christian community. This coincided with the 2nd anniversary of my baptism.

I visited a few Episcopal Churches, many of which have since closed. I visited a very soulful Roman Catholic church that moved me so much I cried through every service. It, too, has closed. I railed at God about throwing me in the desert to wander from place to place with no sense of home. Advent of that year was one of the darkest times I can remember.

But through it all I believe that God was working.

And looking over the old posts, I am moved by how evident it is that the Holy Spirit had my by the hand.

Praise to you, Lord Christ.

Living it

For several years now there has been a bible study at Grace on Sunday mornings called "Live it". I can't remember if I have ever sat in on it before, but today I got up early and joined the conversation.

The whole thing takes place out in the narthex. (Foyer). And because we are who we are, the group is made up of a mash up of folks. Today we had a retired priest, a few folks from Crossroads, the facilitators and me.

I like the format. They use the readings from the Revised Common Lectionary. We read the collect, the Gospel lesson, some of the letter from Paul to Timothy and more from my friend Jeremiah. After each reading we talked about them.

God breathed

And gave us scripture

And today I was so happy to be reading it with friends, new and old.

Back to Africa

In January I am heading back to Mali for a couple of weeks. I have already started packing.

I am not excited. No. Not at all.

This time, I am bringing my eldest son with me. About a month ago I asked him if he wanted to go and at first he said no. But after thinking about it and talking to a friend, he decided that he did want to go. I am beside myself.

There will be an interesting group of us traveling together. 2 teens, a 20 something year old drummer from a rock band, a middle aged mom (me) and possible a 60 something drumming student from my church. Pack us all up in my Honda Fit and we'll make the trip to NYC to take a plane to Mali via Casa Blanca. The entire journey will take at least 24 hours. But traveling, as with everything, breaks down into a series of steps. First the drive to NY. Then the flight to Morocco. A long layover. A flight to Mali. And then we are there and the world expands before our very eyes.

Lord, I praise you for the beauty of your creation.

Might be time to read Jeremiah

I have been keenly aware of the pressure I am under, especially at work. It is a tough job, heading up a charity that depends 100% on donations to survive. Not only am I about supporting my staff and keeping the organization on an even keel, but I am also a figure head that represents the organization out in the world. And there are times when that feels like a very heavy load to carry. Because, lets be honest, I am just as much of a goof ball as the next guy. It is crazy that the way people feel about me would have anything to do with whether they support the ministry... but I know it does.

About Babylon:

I will admit, there are times when I feel like I am in exile. We have a new priest at my church and the transition has been way harder than I expected. Right at the moment when I need stability, the rug has been pulled out from under me. The bible study I have been attending for 4 years just got canceled. Lectio Divina isn't happening on Sundays anymore. I have no relationship with the new guy, so I really can't imagine talking to him about any of this.

Lord, I know you have a plan for all of this. I will pray for strength and courage and perseverance.

I'm thriving, thanks.

My local hometown bird cage liner (The Providence Journal) has recently started a themed section called Thrive that appears on Monday mornings. This section of the paper is entirely devoted to New Age spirituality in all it's various forms. There are articles on Feng Shui, yoga poses and 'finding your inner strength'. Today's version had story after story about how women are leaving churches in droves to seek God within themselves. They described a bookstore where you can find crystals that will help you channel your inner healing energy to treat your cancer, or buy a smudge stick of sage to get rid of negative energy in your house.

I've been there, done that, believe me. I was the high priestess of the church of what's happening now, following every rabbit hole for a sense of peace and serenity. I did smudge sticks, runes, tarot cards, astrology, new agey music and chakra healing. I tried to manifest my destiny with positive visualization and crystal meditations. For the majority of my adult life, I was a seeker. What I didn't realize until after I was a 'finder' was that the very thing I was seeking was a deeper relationship with God.

And you know what? That seeking led me to get baptized in a pond in Chepachet. And in that pond I found out that a deeper relationship with God requires only one thing- Jesus. No crystals, no trances, no mystical music, no burning weeds or pseudo native spirituality. No purchases in New Age bookstores. None of it could bring me to a place of peace. Always, always, my soul was restless within me.

In fact, I think that a great deal of spiritual damage has been done by the New Age stuff. There is a perpetual sense that if only you were more spiritual, you would handle life better. If only you could visualize more powerfully, your cancer would go into remission. If only you search more effectively within you, your relationships would be great, your friends kind and generous and your dog would stop pooping on the rug. When you become God, you end up responsible for everything in your universe.

I ran into a friend who is fully in the grip of the New Age stuff. I asked how she was doing and it was clear that she was really having a hard time. Life has been a challenge lately, and she believes that she is somehow responsible for all of it. She believes that if she were just more focused, things would magically resolve. It is a heavy burden, I tell you. One that I carried for years. (Why oh why can't I just manifest the thin, rich, happy woman I think I should be?)

When I saw my friend, I wanted to just shower her with the REAL love. The love that has only one source. The love that is not dependent on us in any way. The love that flows freely whether we deserve it or not. I wanted to shake her and say 'Put down your copy of The Secret and try this instead' and hand her the New Testament. It's all there, my sweet friend. All the secrets we need to know are right there.

For me, no more searching. My spirit is no longer disquiet within me. I am armed with scripture, an abiding trust in Christ and a religious community in which I can grow as a Christian.

And finally, my dear friends, I am thriving.

My heart is not proud, O Lord,

my eyes are not haughty;

I do not concern myself with great matters

or things too wonderful for me.

But I have stilled and quieted my soul;

like a weaned child with its mother,

like a weaned child is my soul within me.

O Israel, put your hope in the Lord

both now and forevermore.

Psalm 131 NIV

A secret love

I have been playing djembe for over 4 years now, but I have to admit, I have always wanted to play the dun duns. Dun duns are the big bass drums in the West African drum ensemble. They are the booming, melodic backbone upon which the other drums weave their magic spells. It is a heavy responsibility to carry the whole rhythmic structure of a piece. If the dun duns mess up, the djembes, the dancers, the whole thing comes to a screeching halt.

Dun duns are big wooden cylinders covered on both ends with thick cowhide. You play them with sticks made out of a very light and fibrous wood that is remarkably strong for being so light. They are about an inch in diameter and have a hammer head embedded in one end.

My teacher has lent me his set of dun duns and I am learning a few songs. I have been practicing like crazy over the last couple of days and having a ball doing it. I have put the set of big drums in the corner of my dining room and every time I walk by I pull up a chair and play for awhile.

Hey, do me a favor. Don't tell my djembes, ok?

On why we need clean carpets at CareNet

Have you ever seen images of Pope John Paul II at prayer in his chapel?

He would lie face down on the floor, white robes notwithstanding.

We at CareNet have found ourselves in that position a few times recently. Lying face down, or kneeling with our heads pressed to the floor. Sometimes prayers of petition. Often prayers of thanks.

Yesterday, we were praying that our financial dry spell would come to an end so that we can get on with the business of saving lives (mothers, fathers, babies) without being distracted by money worries. By late in the afternoon, a donor came forward promising to pay for our fundraising banquet next month.

If, a few minutes later, you had peaked in the window of CareNet, you would have found several women on their knees, thanking God (and the donor) for his provision.

And it is not just money. We pray for our clients too. And each other. And our donors and supporting churches. Our volunteers.

In Mali you can recognize the devout because they have dents on their foreheads from praying 5 times a day.

I am working on mine.

On success, and other random ideas

I found out that one of my oldest childhood friends just won the genius grant from the MacArthur Foundation. I am really happy for him. This is a kid who knew what he wanted to be from the time I can remember. In 8th grade he was practicing his calligraphy during math class.

When you hear news like this, inevitably, such a thing invites you to a bit of introspection. It is pretty clear that I am never going to win a MacArthur grant. (Even if they DID give them out for things like being a mom, running a little non-profit or going to Africa because nothing but God himself brings you the kind of joy that a street party in Mali does....)

Mine is not a life of superlatives. I have grown content with mediocrity.

At one point I learned that many years before, when I was heading to high school, I was offered a shot at a private boarding school. I never knew this at the time. My parents, through a series of strange decisions, chose to send me, instead, to public school... and later to an alternative high school. I remember when I first discovered this missed opportunity, I imagined what life would have been like had I gone to the private school. Different friends. Different college. Different path altogether. I am quite sure that the opportunities would have been different, too. Maybe I would have had a bigger sense of the success drive if I was surrounded by over achievers. Maybe I would have gone on to do something that the world sees as significant.

As it is, I went to an ok high school, a public college and a series of lower level management positions in the corporate world until bagging it all to have kids.

Not the stuff of fellowships.

But eventually, the stuff of happiness. Somehow my path lead me to find Jesus, in whom I find joy. I love my husband and my kids. I cherish my friends more than can say. I now have a job that takes me to the front lines of my faith on a daily basis. And I have come face to face with the reality that I am never likely to do anything of much significance except love God with all my heart and soul and mind, and love my neighbor as myself.

And play my drum at soccer games.

And dance until I throw up.

And hug my kids and kiss my man and thank God that even though I am a half assed goofball, He loves me anyway.

St. Andrews by the Sea

Today I had the pleasure of speaking at St. Andrews by the Sea to help them kick off their Episcopal Charities Fund campaign. I was invited by my former Rector, Bob Brooks, to talk about CareNet Pregnancy Center of RI.

And I will admit, I was more nervous about it than I have been for any other speaking engagement. It was my first time speaking at an Episcopal Church. Since the Episcopal Church tends to be socially liberal, members are just as likely to be pro-choice as pro-life. I understood that I really needed to try and find common ground, while at the same time challenging people, gently, to at least reconsider their position on the issue.

The scripture readings were a true gift from God, as they made an excellent jumping off point.

First, we heard about Abraham's negotiations with God to save Sodom and Gomorrah for the sake of a few righteous men. Then, in the gospel reading, Jesus teaches us how to pray the Lord's prayer... and goes on to encourage us to be persistent in our prayer. But he also says that we should have faith that when we pray, God will give us all that we ask for. He asks if we, who are evil, are smart enough to give our children a fish instead of a snake, or an egg instead of scorpion, how much more likely is it that God, who is Holy, will give us only good things?

Which made me realize that when we pray and don't get what we think we wanted, Jesus is assuring us that what we get is, indeed, an egg, not a scorpion. We, sadly, just don't see it sometimes.

As we read the Luke version of the Lord's prayer, it struck me that Jesus might be telling us that the Kingdom is already come. We just can't see it. As Christians, we have to have more faith that the kingdom is all around us though... especially since Jesus expressly tells us so in the gospels. And it strikes me that Christians who are pro-choice may need to strengthen their faith muscles. Why do they think that the world's solution, (death) is really the only option when a woman faces an unplanned pregnancy? And do they really think that God would give these women snakes when they asked for fishes?

After being involved with CareNet for several years now, I can tell you, without a doubt, that there comes a point when these young women finally see their babies for what they are. Not scorpions. Not snakes. But the greatest gifts they will ever receive.

Maybe we should just pack it in. Sell what we can. Give away the rest. Walk away.

The SBA told us today that it won't even give us a minimal loan to cover the repair of our machinery unless we sign our house on as collateral. And you know what? After 20 years of been there, done that, I am just not willing to do it again. We finally got out from under the SBA last year when we sold the building, and after 9 years of being unable to refinance because of them, I am simply not willing to do it again.

I am so tired. Why did they tell us we wouldn't be required to do this? It would have saved me so much time and heartache if I had known this in the beginning. They told me we would not have to sign away our home. Why did they tell us that? Why?

Thank God for our friends. That is all I can say.

In which our heroine testifies in front of the RI House Committee on Health, Education and Welfare

I was invited by Barth Bracey, the executive director of RI Right to Life, to attend the RI House hearing on the Woman's Right to Know act last Wednesday. (H7377)

In a stunning show of spinelessness, the committee, before hearing any testimony at all, voted to send the bill back for further study. That means that it is left to languish in committee for year number 16.

The bill basically requires that women who are seeking abortions be given information on the nature of the procedure, the risks involved and the development of the fetus. Then she has to wait 24 hours before the actual abortion can take place.

In a state that requires a 5 day waiting period to buy a firearm, doesn't a 1 day wait for something like this seem reasonable? 30 other states have already passed laws like this. Our senate has already passed it. Our house has sat on it for 15 years.

The representatives from Planned Parenthood said that they already give women enough information for informed consent and tried to say that the 24 hour waiting period would be too much of a hardship, especially for their poorer patients.

I decided to go check out what Planned Parenthood tells women about the abortion procedure. On PPs national website, if you read the descriptions of the aspiration abortion it states:

# A tube is inserted through the cervix into the uterus.
# Either a hand-held suction device or a suction machine gently empties your uterus.
# Sometimes, an instrument called a curette is used to remove any remaining tissue that lines the uterus. It may also be used to check that the uterus is empty. When a curette is used, people often call the abortion a D&C — dilation and curettage.

For the dilation and evacuation abortion it says:

# In later second-trimester procedures, you may also need a shot through your abdomen to make sure there is fetal demise before the procedure begins.
# Your health care provider will inject a numbing medication into or near your cervix.
# Medical instruments and a suction machine gently empty your uterus.

The italics are mine.

Gently empties your uterus. The bill before the house would require that a woman seeking an abortion be told about fetal development. Most of us have been told for decades that before 12 weeks of pregnancy you are dealing with a cluster of cells. That is simply not the case. You are, in fact, dealing with an individual life that is fully distinct from his or her mother. He has his own circulation system, his own blood supply, hands, feet, brain, spinal cord, the works. At our center, even women who are only 7 weeks past their last menstrual period can see an actual human being when they get an ultrasound.

Fetal demise. That means they inject a shot into the uterus to make sure the fetus is dead.

Planned Parenthood claims that they give women enough information to make a fully informed decision about the procedure they are about to undergo.

If their website descriptions are any indication, what they offer is a sanitized version of reality that is specifically designed to deceive women. They cannot be trusted to provide accurate information.

We need this bill to pass. Please write to your state rep and demand it.

A first stab at a post-diluvian wrap up

Today marks the end of the 4th week after the flood.

Status: The shop is still not fully functioning. Most of the machines are running, but at least two are still needing repair.

We have mostly given up on the idea of a Government loan. Apparently we can reapply, but frankly are too busy with getting on with things to jump through all the SBA hoops (again) so it will have to wait until things are actually back up and running.

Personally we are doing fine. Our friends and family have been supporting us in all kinds of ways, from sending checks to cooking meals to arranging for groceries to be delivered. We are set for at least the next couple of months, which is a HUGE relief.

I am, for the most part, on the other side of the chaotic emotional roller coaster and seem to have found a sense of serenity about it all. I met with my spiritual director this morning and described what the last month has been like.

It was like I was two people experiencing everything simultaneously. One side of me was resting in God's love, aware that things were unfolding according to his plan, feeling safe in the knowledge of his love of us. There was a bedrock of peace on which I was relying and it never left.

The other side, however, went through a lot of emotional distress, grief, anger, sadness, you name it. I never knew, from day to day, what frustrations were going to emerge. I was in a maelstrom that just kept swirling around me.

Both of those things were going on at once. Looking back, I realized that the existence of one truth did not negate the existence of the other. I was experiencing them both, and could not necessarily reconcile them.

And maybe it is not our job to reconcile such things. Maybe that is God's role. I am just grateful that for today, the despair has dissipated and the resting in God's hands part remains.

A tiny breakthrough

Finally, finally, I got to speak to a real live human being at the Department of Labor and Training. And she was very kind and concerned and took care of our problem with the unemployment benefits within about 32 seconds. Boom. Done. We were able to check on the status of Nguyen's employees too.

Yesterday I was really in the pits about all of this, so this phone conversation was a huge gift. My spirits lifted immediately. Thank you, God.

Today, the weight of that is gone and I am feeling much lighter about all of it.

Nguyen was in the shop until very late last night. He is working so hard. His employees are too. All they want is to get back to business. I pray, today, that they will soon.

And then there is the part of me that thinks that because I am not handling this well, I am a bad Christian. Because I feel fear, anger, loss, grief, I am not trusting in God.

Forgive me, Lord, if that is so.

I need healing.

3 weeks down

and the recovery is excruciatingly slow. Just yesterday Nguyen and Don were able to get a repair technician in from Maine to look at the CNCs. He diagnosed the problems and made his recommendations. They are having motors rebuilt and circuit boards replaced. All reasonable expenses after a catastrophe like the floods 3 weeks ago. None of which will be covered by the fabled FEMA grants or elusive SBA loans. The good news is that the machines can be repaired. The bad news is that we are going to have to max out our credit, beg, borrow and steal to pay for it.

I feel such a sense of loss and I am not sure what it is, even. Grief.

My poor husband can't sleep without a tv on, so he has been on the sofa in the living room because we don't have one in our room. He had a nightmare that his building was on fire and being vandalized and no one would come to help. No fire trucks, no police. When he told me about it the next morning, I cried because it was actually true.

Every day there are articles in the paper urging businesses to apply for the SBA loans, but they never say that you are likely to get rejected. They never disclose that over 50% of the applicants have been denied. They never say anything about the fact that just getting the app in in the wake of a flood is, in itself, a herculean effort. Today I finally called a reporter from the Projo to tell him to ask the SBA how many of their loans are being denied and why aren't they printing THAT statistic every day?

The shop has been closed for 3 weeks as of today. My husband and his brothers and employees have been in there working, for no pay, every day. I go to my job and leave my problems at the door when I get there. I can't think about it. I can't talk about it. And then I come home and pick up where I left off, trying to get through to unemployment, trying to remember the name of the person who called us the first day and told us she would help, trying to get a new inventory together for the SBA so we can make another run at a loan. Trying to remember that God is in control.

It's a process

I will admit, I have been feeling a sense of anger and frustration about the lack of government support for the flood victims. At every turn we seem to hit a brick wall. Yesterday, it all finally came to a head. I had been trying for days to get the unemployment situation straightened out. I was unable to reach a human being and could not figure out what to do with the conflicting information they had mailed me. It all culminated with a call to Senator Reed's office begging them to help me navigate it all. I also got to speak with the head of the RI SBA, who sounded just as angry as I was.

Last night my father and step mother commented that I had seemed angry for a week. Of course their comment made me angry, LOL. But then I had to admit that it was true.

I think that anger is part of a process. Kind of like Elizabeth Kuebler Ross's stages of dealing with death. And there has been a death of sorts. Maybe we should have known better after watching New Orleans, but I suppose it came as a shock to recognize that despite all the good words and concern from the FEMA people and the SBA people and the RI Dept. of Labor and Training people... at the end, there was going to be nothing. I had to process through the shock and disappointment of that.

But now I am done.

And there are lots of things for which I am very very grateful. Friends and family who have been amazing. Dinner miraculously appearing on our table for days on end. Total strangers showing up to clean the shop for hours and hours. Easter lillies and prayers.

And this trial, which I pray will bring me closer to the trials of my savior. I offer it to you, Jesus.

Nothing

That is exactly what the government is offering us to rebuild our business after the flood. Zero. We were rejected for the SBA loan because our business lost money for the last two years.

Well, duh.

RI is in the midst of the worst recession EVER. The fact that we are still open is a miracle.

I am trying to figure out it if it is someone's best interest for a little business like ours to fail. Is someone in Washington going to benefit from RI's economy collapsing? They are sure acting that way.

In the mean time, Nguyen and I are Gideon. We can be stripped down to absolutely nothing, but if it is God's will for us to succeed, we will... to his glory.