They Will Know We Are Christians...

"So we have come to know and to believe the love that God has for us. God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him." 1 John 4:16

When I was a young girl, growing up in the Presbyterian church, I learned many traditional hymns. It was the sixties and seventies era, so contemporary Christian music was starting to become more popular, as well. Young people, disillusioned with war, concerned for the earth, and  searching for answers, became what our family called "The Jesus People".

Our farm was about a mile from the county park, where there was a mud bottom lake you could fish or swim in, a small playground and a picnic pavilion.

In the summer, the Jesus People would come to the park and set up their guitar amps and microphones. When we heard them start playing this hippy, Christian music, my parents packed us kids into the station wagon and drove a mile up the road to check out these modern day apostles, singng  "Put your hand in the hand of the man from Galilee..."

I learned that song by heart and love it to this day!

At home, we had a piano in the living room and two hymnals were always on it. Other music might be on top or in the piano bench. The hymnals, however, were displayed right on the front and Mom would sometimes play while Dad and we children sang hymns. We learned to stay on melody to Mom and Dad's harmony. This, too, is music I can still sing and enjoy.

Beyond the music was the message. The one I learned in our Christian home and in Sunday School was that God loves us, Jesus died for us and feels mercy toward us, and if I believed that, then I'd go to heaven someday. Pretty simple ideas, yet later in life, harder to reconcile.

(Palestine started it for me)

Fast forward, and my faith today is a shell of what it once was. That has not been an easy thing to reconcile, that I could lose faith in the God they taught me about, the one they promised would help. 

But, in the end, to believe that "shit happens" and it is often for no apparent reason, is becoming liberating. 

I have a fairly mild concern for what my destiny in the afterlife will be, or if that even exists. 

The events I see unfolding now around the world are chaotic and harmful to others, in many cases. We hear of that "light in the darkness", the story that "restores our faith in humanity". We enjoy the relief that brings from the stress we feel. But, personally, I can't stay there.The chaos still reigns. 

So, I appreciate the lighter, more loving things I find, the wonderful people I meet, and the family and friends who enrich my life. 

However, unless I go off grid in a Ted Kaczynski manner, a complete recluse that has sworn off this world, then I still have choices to make. I still have things to learn and do, and those things are not always peaceful or comfortable on the inside.

As I watch the genocide being committed in Gaza, I think of the sort of Christianity I was taught to be, growing up. Matthew 25 says to do unto the "least of these", is to do it unto Jesus himself.

I think of seeing the Vietnam war protests 

 as a young girl, and I think of the slaughter at Kent State, a symbol of the State against the people.  I remember the "race riots" from that chaotic time, as well. I am seeing division now like nothing that we've seen since "Occupy" and Vietnam. But now, that can get you detained and even deported, as an "anti-Semite". 

Today, as I try to hear what those Jesus People were saying and singing that made me grow to love them, I am perplexed. My confusion is not in what my patched together faith is telling me about right and wrong. No, that is crystal clear in my mind. 

My consternation is with the old hippies who forgot after Vietnam, how to be hippies! The Jesus People need to truly be those people now! 

It would seem that for a few, walking to the garden in a grass skirt and milking a goat is Zen enough to be satisfiying, as they shake  their heads at the rest of us who are squaring off. 

In the end, I think about the Tracy Chapman song "Across the Line" and I think to myself that those Jesus People of old could be as inspirational today as they were back then.

A few of those hippies have stayed or come back out.

 But, it's not nearly enough of them (of US!)...

They are dying off now. A new generation of college protesters are being arrested and shot at today. They dare to oppose genocide in their name, paid for with their money, as they struggle with  student debt. They are angry, and rightly so. Yet, they are vilified for their outspoken views and actions. 

As for me, I am trying to quell that fear of the consequences of speaking out. Recently, I have lost family and friend relationships over my views.

But, I am putting my hand slowly back into the hand of the man from Galilee. I think "he's got me" on this. Jesus once used his righteous anger to clear the temple. Our righteous anger must clear the hatred from our land and from the world!

Black Veil Brides (acoustic) - In The End

https://youtu.be/brhYdmaHBMo?si=7p3LXVH1icXN6qbP

"In the End"  is just one of those songs that speaks to me.

It is asking an important question.

What will I be remembered for and will it be good?

(Thank you to Black Veil Brides for this beauty!)

Do you remember how we used to wonder what we would be when we grew up?

I do. I wanted to be a nurse. My second choice was to be a teacher. My choices were no doubt influenced by typical gender roles in the late 60's and early 70's. But, regardless, I knew I wanted to help someone  else. To support myself by making things better for others was my dream!

When I had to leave a nursing career that provided this level of fulfillment, it was very difficult to "redefine" myself. My generation came with parents who stressed that who you ARE is what you DO! So, I felt rather disconnected from my own identity.

I was physically unable to work, due to health issues and chronic pain. If my work was who I was, then who am I now? 

What do I want my "legacy" to be now? 

Some questions don't have easy answers.

Let me know your thoughts! How do YOU define yourself? What will you leave behind? 

 

My Choice

In August of 2005, my husband and I experienced a completely unplanned pregnancy. It would not have been as frightening had we not already had two children with autistic spectrum disorders. The younger of the two was also mentally retarded and had Tourette Syndrome. The older boy had ADHD and Oppositional Defiant Disorder. It seemed like we had run the gamut of diagnoses and seen more specialists and therapists than we dreamed even existed.
At  the age of forty-one, my suspicion that I was pregnant again filled me with anxiety. I tried to tell myself that I was simply stressed and my period would surely arrive soon. No amount of worry, however, could account for the swollen breasts and the fact my pants were getting difficult to zip.
With the doctor's confirmation of my condition, I was reduced to tears. I simply looked at him, sucked in my breath and said quietly, "I don't think I can do this." I was on a cocktail of medications for fibromyalgia and depression at the time, some of which were known to cause birth defects. I was just coming off my third trip to the psych unit for the year. My mother was battling cancer and needed me. To top it all off, my marriage was not exactly a bed of roses. Thus, the thought of bringing another child in to this three ring circus seemed impossible and even cruel.
At this point, my doctor gave me a kind smile and said, very calmly, "It's pretty early. You have plenty of time. Go home, think it over, talk to your husband and then you let me know what you want to do." There was no pressure from him one way or the other, no look of shock or judgement. In a small rural community of mostly church going people, I did not expect him to be so understanding. He was a doctor during the week, but the Lutheran choir director every Sunday!
I took a deep breath, wiped the tears from my face and walked to my car for the short drive home. All I could think about was how much I loved babies and how the odds that this one would be normal were horribly stacked against it. My husband and I had discussed all this before my appointment and he had said it was my decision. He would support me either way.
I am not sure exactly when it hit me, nor how many lines on that short stretch of highway went by, but suddenly I knew what I had to do. I was so scared but there was no other option for me. I pulled in the driveway and called my husband to tell him the news. Then, I asked him, "Would you think I was crazy if I said I want to have this baby?"
He sighed but I could sense a smile behind it. He replied,"Yeah, but I've known for years that you were crazy." We both laughed and that was that. Come what may, we were going to have another child. We would love it, normal or not, and face whatever lay down the road, together. 

That was 2006.
Today, in 2010 as I write this, I am watching him play with the neighbor kids. He has tousled blond hair, a bit longer than a boy's should be, and dimples in his full, rosy cheeks. He looks for all the world like his father, except for those big, brown eyes and the long lashes any girl would be jealous of. Those are an inheritance from me. Around that precious mouth, that is constantly either grinning or pouting, lies a face that is rarely clean.
I smile as I watch him run up and down the steep, grassy embankment by our apartment building. Next, he takes a riding toy to the top and careens downhill with stunning showmanship. Shirtless in the late afternoon sun, he is at this moment so carefree it nearly makes me feel jealous. I can see him being a true heart breaker someday.
He is in kindergarten now and all indications are that he is just fine, mentally and emotionally. Each morning when I watch him walking away from me, usually last in line for the school bus, my own heart aches just a little. In my head, I hear that Kenny Chesney song, "There Goes My Life".(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xP-Sxfntdb4&ob=av3e. 

The driver swings the door shut and my boy is gone from my sight. As the bus pulls away, I wave goodbye.
I look up at the sky and I say, "Thank you, Allah/God, for giving him to me."
I know when I decided to accept this gift, it was the best choice I had ever made.

Update: 2025

All of this said, I still completely support reproductive choice. After all, when left in charge of our own lives, women usually make good decisions for themselves and their families, no bans or court orders needed! 

I will rejoice on the day that this fact is acknowledged,  and every pregnancy is treated as the unique event that it is. 

I certainly would not have wanted the fate of my pregnancy decided by anyone except my husband and myself.

I am of the strong opinion that no one should subvert a woman's right to choose. 

If I'm capable enough to have a baby, I'm also capable of making my own choices.

And I made a great one all those years ago!