The doorbell rang again today, I am home for an hour between meetings and was surprised to see our 9 year old neighbor [L]. It's parent teacher conferences in Minneapolis today, which is a fact I missed. A few days ago, [L] and Kohls made themselves squares on our white board. Richard left them each a message this weekend. [L] literally clapped his hands when I told him that he had a message on his square.
He wanted to leave a message for Holly, so he had to erase a message that he had left Holly a few days earlier.
"Now that you've seen the message from Richard, should we erase that one too?" I asked him.
"No, not yet. I like having a message."
It was funny to me when Richard left the messages for Kohls and L. I just thought that it was a silly thing. But to the kids it means something much more. It means that someone in our house cares about them, that they matter, that they have a presence here.
Positive psychologists say that hearing your own name brings happiness for three reasons. We experience pleasure when we hear our own name; we feel engaged when we hear our own name; and we feel that we matter and therefore have a deeper sense of meaning and purpose when we hear our name.
I don't know what the psychologists say about reading our name on a white board at a neighbor's house. But I suspect the findings would be similar. I'm grateful that Holly and Richard were able to show L that he matters today, even if they are at work.
My students in youth group are doing a study on "Becoming a Young Woman of God."
In our last lesson we looked at a list of characteristics, the girls circled what they wanted to be: popular; mean; kind; sympathetic; passionate; musical; arrogant etc.
In that lesson we talked about the ways that our choices determine the women that we become. We watched clips from 13 going on 30 and had a very good time.
Tonight we talked about goals, about short term and long term gratification, and about the steps we need to take to become the women God is calling us, and we want to be.
The name of this blog is becoming what we love. It was a quote I had just come across this quote "We cannot help conforming ourselves to what we love."by Francis de Sales on the Sojourners blog, and it really struck a chord. I want to be loving, I want to be kind, I want to be generous. I want to be a reflection of Jesus. Yet, my life shows that I'm conforming to something else far too often. There are things that I love that cause me to conform to different patterns than those that I want to be.
One of the verses that we read tonight was Proverbs 14:12*
12 There is a way that appears to be right,
but in the end it leads to death.
So here's my prayer for myself, and maybe it will become your prayer as well.
Lord, help me to fall more in love with you, so that the thing that I conform to is you. Help me to make choices that help me to become the woman [or man] that you'd have me to be. I want to be like you, I want to love you.
*For Richard's take on this verse check out his posterous "Vespa de los muertos." (When I told him that we had read this verse he started repeating it but SCREAMING the word "death." so that it lasted at least as long as the rest of the sentence.)
We have a new friend at our house, she shares a name with a popular store, so she introduces herself by saying, “My name is [let’s call her Kohls] but I don’t shop at Kohls I shop at JC Penny’s." Holly was looking for work all summer and had lots of free time at home, she got to know Kohls and many of our neighbor kids, it’s an incredibly diverse group of kids: Somali, Lao, African American, and Mexican, boys and girls, all younger than ten.Several times each day the doorbell rings, “is Holly there?”The rest of us were starting to feel like second class neighbors since no one ever asked for Leah, Wanda or Katie.
Last week as I was in a total rush to pack up my textbooks and laptop before school on Monday night the doorbell rang. And rang. And rang. And rang. And rang.(we’ve gone over some rules for visiting the house: no playing on the porch if you don’t have an adult from the house out there; ask before you open any door or drawer; say please; say thank you – but somehow “please don’t ring the doorbell 79 times,” hasn’t sunk into the collective consciousness of our neighbors.
“Hi Kohls.What’s up?”
“Is Holly home?”
“No she’s not, can I leave a message for her?”
“Yes, um, can you tell her that Kohls stopped by?”
“I will. Have a good day Kohls.” (shutting door)
“Wait, Katie can you play with me?”
“Nope, sorry, I have to go to school now.”
“Oh, you go to school?”
“Yep.”
“High School?”
“Nope, Seminary, it’s college for Pastors after college.”
“Oh.”
“Bye Kohls.”
“Ok, bye.”
It’s reading week, so Richard and I don’t have class tonight.At 5:15 the doorbell rang, and rang, and rang, and rang, and rang, and rang.
“Hi Kohls.What’s up?”
“Is Holly home?”
“No she’s not, can I leave a message for her?”
“Yes, um, can you tell her that Kohls stopped by?”
“I will. Have a good day Kohls.”
“Katie, you have class tonight don’t you?”
“No actually, my class was cancelled tonight.”
“Oh, well then can you play with me?”
“ummm… No, I need to take a shower and do homework, and I have a dinner date and… actually why don’t you come back in a half hour and we can play a game of uno together Kohls?”
“I don’t know how long is a half hour.”
“5:45, come over at 5:45, and we can play a game of Uno, after I take a shower.”
Sure enough at 5:45 on the dot Kohls was rang the bell, she had 4 of her trick or treating candies in her hand.She had picked out 4 candies specifically for the four women living in this house.“This one,” she said handing me a dark chocolate kit kat, “is for you, it’s a black kit kat.I’m going to put everyone elses candies in their mailboxes.”
Richard happened to come over just as we were starting the Uno game so we dealt him in.We only had time for one quick game but we got to play a game, laugh and share the kit kat.
There were two things that left me a little unsettled.
One, this eight year old remembered a brief rushed and stressed out conversation that I had with her a week ago.She knew that my schedule meant that I had to go to school at night on Mondays.I’m so self centered I have a hard time remembering the schedule of my best friends, roommates and family who I have known for ages, Kohls remembered a neighbors school schedule.I feel like I’m the one who is supposed to care about her, not vice versa.The flip was heartwarming for sure, but also slightly unsettling.
Two, this eight year old brought presents for us.Not just for Holly, who is clearly everyone’s favorite roommate, or for me who had offered to play Uno with her after I took the time to shower, but for each and every roommate, and she picked out candies that she thought that we would like.Holly and Leah got plain kit kats, Wanda got a hersheys cookies and cream bar and I got the dark kit kat.Kohls wanted to bless us and share some of her trick or treat bounty with us.
There’s a quote from Jean Vanier that I learned when I was living in St. Louis.“People may come to our communities because they want to serve the poor; they will only stay once they have discovered that they themselves are poor.”
It’s hard to escape the white savior, colonialist, patriarchal frame of mind.I’ve lived in the house for more than five years now, worked at an urban church, am majoring in Community Ministry Leadership in seminary.I know, intellectually and practically that viewing the haves as the rescuers of the have nots is never going to lead to a meaningful harvest.I need Kohls and her family, the Somali families that ring our doorbell, “pipe-smoking-cat-walking man” and even “Eight dollar man” more than they need me.
PS- Richard reminded me about this classic Sesame Street video a couple of weeks ago when I started whining about the number of times that the doorbell rings. Enjoy
I am slightly embarrassed to admit how much I LOVE the Old Spice commercial "The Man Your Man Could Smell Like." I'm not sure how healthy it is as far as the objectification of African American Men, or even for the objectification of women, but it's so funny. And now Sesame Street has a parody of it that makes me laugh a lot.
We just completed a chapter on the Imago Dei in seminary. This phrase, "Made in the Image of God" has at least 4 major different interpretations. One of the big questions theologians ask is this - While human beings were made in the Image of God in Genesis, how much of that image remains now that we are living in a sinful, unjust world?
I believe, and I think that the strongest argument can be made, that while the Image of God in us has been marred by sin and injustice, there is some image of God in each person, regardless of religion, race, age, ability, history, gender, orientation etc.
One of the side effects of trying to be "The Perfect Woman", is a tendency to make all or nothing decisions. Resulting in misunderstanding of grace towards the imperfections of myself and others.
Either I'm perfect - OR - I'm a failure
Either He's a spiritual person - OR - he's a hypocrite
Either She's a good friend - OR - She's a terrible friend
Either that church cares about the community - OR - they're self-centered.
Again there's a problem. If members of our community or community groups are being held to an impossible, all or nothing standard, we miss opportunities to love them.
So we're becoming what we love, if we love perfection, if we love clear cut, black and white, all or nothing, we'll continue to put people into boxes, hold them on impossibly high and wobbly pedestals or relegate them to small boxes where there is no hope for redemption. Certainly, some things are "black and white." But I suspect that for many things there is much more gray (or grey if your an Anglophile) then we let ourselves believe.
In community, there must be gray.
Well not Macy Gray, but since you were asking for a flashback to the year 2000 here you go.
Plus did you see Andy on The Office cover this last week? Hulu it "Andy's Play" about minute 19, so sweet. (Did I mention that all 4 of us have been sick over the past week? I've watched a lot of TV).
One of the challenges in the book is to examine the things that we women tell ourselves. I started by making a list of "should"s that I tell myself often, some include:
I should always look cute, but professional, attractive but not slutty, trendy but not trashy
I shouldn't care about how I look, not be superficial
I should eat wholesome, homemade, healthy, carefully prepared organic food.
I should take less time cooking and more time doing homework, work, and chores.
I should give 110% of myself to my job
I should give 110% of myself to my studies
I should give 110% of myself to my relationship, family and friends
I should lead a perfectly balanced life, and remember to take a weekly sabbath, and quarterly vacation, get 8 hours of sleep every night and an hour of physical activity every day.
I should speak my mind assertively
I should question the things that are coming out of my mouth.
Do you see the problem? You can't both strive to look cute, professional, attractive, and trendy, while simultaneously not caring what you look like.
You can't give 330% of yourself, neither can you give even 100% of yourself to any activity.
I want to be conformed more and more to the image of Christ. I want know more deeply that it is His love that defines me, not how well I live up to my list of "shoulds." I don't want to want to be perfect. I want to want to be His.
We had lots of illness at the house this week, I haven't forgotten about the "perfect woman" series, but I wanted to share this. I'm sure 7 of your friends have already shared it on facebook, but just in case.
