7

I have my friend Steph to thank for almost ruining our Florida vacation. While staying at this very savvy resort and spending long days at the pool and beach with utter no responsibilities, I am reading this book which Steph nearly forced into my hands a few days before leaving for vacation. It's called 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess, and it's all about one woman's journey to simplify her life in order to open herself up greater to God and to generous living. This woman confronts American consumerism and Christian wealth head on and invites her readers' hearts to bleed for the homeless, the refugee, the orphan, and the hungry. In truth, I am deeply grateful to Steph for this recommendation.  It is as inspiring as much as it is challenging.

What I am trying to say is that it is impossible to be here and not be reminded that we are within the top 1 percent wealthiest in the world. That most families feel it is a privilege to send their children to school while we view it a responsibility to take our children on vacation each summer (we were actually told, "Well, you have to take your children on vacation every year," by the vacation representative who visited our room this afternoon.)  While we might stress over which restaurant or beach we must visit while here, many families are stressing over which meal to eat today.  The gross gap in equity between the rich (us) and the poor (80% of human beings) is just that... gross... shameful... embarrassing... heart-breaking.

So back to the book: 7. Jen Hatmaker, the author, took seven months and chose seven areas of her life which needed simplified and tackled each problem area for a month.  Here's her list:

• Food
• Clothes 
• Possessions
• Media
• Waste
• Spending
• Stress

Could you do this?  She ate only seven ingredients during the Food month. She wore only seven items of clothing during the second month. She gave over seven possessions away daily during Month Three.  And she (and husband and children) abstained from all TV, video games, Facebook, blogs, Internet-surfing, iPhone Apps (basically anything other than work-related) during Media month.  You will have to read the book on your own to see what she did during the last three months, as I am still reading the chapter on Waste right now, but to be sure, she gained some golden perspective which no doubt will affect their life choices forever. 

The cool thing about reading this while on a family vacation is that I've been able to talk about this with my family!  In fact, Jarred has been so kind to endure my numerous outbursts of laughter (this is probably the funniest author I have ever read) and to listen to a few "short" sections that I just had to
read to him.  We've talked about how fortunate we are that we actually can take vacations.  I've shared anecdotes from 7, like the time that Jen Hatmaker and her then mega-church husband/pastor heard Shaine Claiborne speak about the homeless shelter nearby where sturdy shoes were a great necessity. And how he challenged everyone to leave their shoes and socks at the Communion table to be donated to this shelter.  And how Jen and her husband took off their brand new, very expensive cowboy boots and went home barefoot on a winter night, challenged and changed. 

I, too, am being challenged to change.  And I'd like to invite my family and perhaps some friends,  too, to engage in some of these experiments ourselves.  I'll be sure to post more on the subject then!

For now, please find a copy of this book!  You will be challenged and changed, too!

Quaker for the Day

One thing I value as a "glo-burbanite" is learning from faith traditions other than my own.  I believe there are nuggets of wisdom found in most faith traditions if we are humble enough to listen and learn from one another.  This does not mean I adopt every belief or practice as my own... only that I am open to what truths may be expressed or experienced in ways I am not familiar. 

For example, growing up across the street from Amish neighbors provided a window into a culture that has many values worth borrowing, not the least of which are hard work, humility, simplicity, and forgiveness. I still keep in touch (and am challenged by) my childhood friend Elsie who is one of the most joyful and content women I know!

Borrowing from the Catholic tradition, I began seeing a spiritual director four years ago (who happens to be Mennonite, actually), and her mentoring friendship with me has been one of the most significant gifts in my spiritual journey as an adult.

And I began practicing yoga and meditation (which I love with my whole limber self!) a year ago, borrowed in part from Buddhist and Hindu practices.

Yesterday, I decided to visit the Quakers.  I have been wanting to visit a Friends Meeting House for quite some time now, as I find the Quakers very intriguing.  One of the "nuggets" I have learned from them is that they value the divine presence of God (often termed Light) in every human being (even in their "enemies") which has led them to value non-violence and peace-making as a way of life.

Another interesting tidbit about the Quakers is that they usually do not have spiritual leaders.  When they gather for Sunday morning worship, they sit in silence until someone feels led by the Spirit (or Light) to share something for the benefit of the whole group.  Then they return to silence and prayerful meditation until another might feel led to share. 

Since Jarred was in Boston for the weekend at a conference and the kids had spent the night with their grandparents, I decided that I'd go and visit the Maidencreek Meetinghouse, a small stone structure built in 1759, near Leesport, PA.  These are my reflections from my journal...


Struggling to find my turn off of 61, I tried to silent my pumping heart like a good Quaker girl. (Rushing into a silent room doesn't seem to be the Quaker way.) I found it, a blessed ten minutes before 10:00, and was, a little awkwardly, only the second person to enter the meetinghouse. "Oh no," I thought. "What if it's just me and that man?" Then I heard another car pulling along the stone drive. Phew...

One by one, the faithful strolled in.  Sometimes I glanced their way and received a smile or "good morning." There were twelve of us altogether (the same number Jesus thought would be good to change the world.)  ;-)

This one was a silent meeting. No words were needed today. Personally, I thought the setting was a beautiful sermon in its own rite.  The old stone building with its wide, wooden-beamed floor and long straight wooden benches--covered by faded orange cushions--sang with total tranquility and sacred tradition.  The open windows and doors were just that... open.  They welcomed not only the nameless strangers such as I, but the breezes and the bees and the flies.  Had a skunk walked in the door, I think he would have been offered a seat.

Instead of a choir, we had the birds.  And let me tell you, their voices echoed beautifully over the lake and the trees, filtering into our sanctuary. 

As the hour passed, I shifted my posture now and then, as well as my thoughts.  They drifted to loved ones, my friend who just moved away and to my brothers.  They drifted toward the members in the room... What are their stories?  How long have they been "Quaker"?  What do they think of me?  They drifted to myself... I need to stretch.  Can I clear my throat silently?  I'm getting sleepy.  

I thought about other moments where I've sat in silence with others--at the beginning of Nar-Anon meetings, before our sung prayers at the Pilgrimage of Peace retreats in West Virginia, at youth group events when we'd spread out for silent prayer or devotions, during the evening Scripture meditation at the Kairos retreat back in January.

I've decided I like sitting in silence.  (Almost as much as I love gabbing with friends.)  Both are good. Both nourish the soul.  Both communicate truth and love if we have ears to hear.  And so I think I will practice Quakerism more often. 

How about you?  Have you ever experienced a faith tradition outside of your own?  What did you learn from it? 

Thanksgiving Crumbs

"A desire to kneel down sometimes pulses through my body, or rather it is as if my body had been meant and made for the act of kneeling.  Sometimes in moments of deep gratitude, kneeling down becomes an overwhelming urge, head deeply bowed, hand before my face."  

~Etty Hillesum

Do you ever feel like that?  So overcome with gratitude and joy that you could drop to your knees?  The closest I feel to that sort of gratitude is when I am taking a quiet walk by myself, my eyes drinking in the beauty of trees, skies, flowers, sun and my ears absorbing bird songs and dancing breezes among the leaves.  Except rather than bowing low, my head, heart, and sometimes arms reach high up wanting to gather the beauty and goodness of God into my soul.  

And yet days and weeks can go by to the hum-drum of daily life or to the sad tune of heartache without my knees bending or my arms stretching wide in gratefulness.  I'm learning that these long stretches need not be.  I'm learning that the hum-drum days and even heartache days contain their beautiful, even glorious moments, if only I have eyes to see them.  Macrina Wiederkehr calls these moments "crumbs" for the soul, and I love that analogy. A warm, thick slice of bread is most delicious to the soul, such as the moments I am walking amid the beauty of an autumn day, but crumbs can be savored, too.  Indeed, when I take the time to savor them, rather than gulp them down without a thought, my soul is that much more satisfied.

"Crumbs are those small things that the world would toss aside, seeing little value in them.... Everything in life can be nourishing.  Everything can bless us, but we've got to be there for the blessing to occur." (A Tree Full of Angels, Introduction, xiii).

"Being there" or being grateful is a spiritual discipline, a practice that nourishes the soul.  Sometimes I practice this at the end of the day when I am lying in bed.  I think back upon my day and ask myself what "crumbs" I gathered.  Usually, they are the simplest of moments: a snuggle with my daughter in the morning, the sight of the red maple in our backyard, the conversation with a friend which left us each a little lighter, the smell of muffins baking in the oven, the laughter from my children and their father as they wrestled and tickled on the living room floor.  I think back on these crumbs, savoring them, rolling them around on my tongue.  My heart beats stronger with thankfulness, and I go to sleep at peace.  

Thanksgiving may be over, but there are crumbs on the table of daily life, if only we stop to look, to savor, to nourish our souls.  What crumbs have you gathered from today?  

Gag Me with a GPS

Do you ever feel suffocated by technology?  I do.  I remember when DVDs came out.  We were newlyweds and were invited over to another newly-wed couple's home to watch a movie on their new DVD player.  The guys were in ecstasy.  They couldn't get over the quality!  (I could barely notice a difference.)  Almost overnight, VHS videos and players became history.  I hated how there was this sudden pressure to "convert to DVDs".  It meant buying a DVD-player, exchanging a VHS collection for a DVD collection, and increases in movie rentals.  I resisted it with every fiber of my being, until I finally decided that the conversion was inevitable.  So for Christmas I bought my husband a DVD player, using my 20% employee discount at Sears.


I also resisted getting a cell phone.  You mean pay how many dollars a month so that you can be interrupted at any moment, even when you're enjoying a long, quiet drive?  But after having two young children and watching pay phones fade into oblivion and almost getting lost one night on back country roads, it seemed like a wise investment.  So in 2005, Jarred bought me a cell phone for Christmas. 

Then it was laptops.  Then the GPS.  Then iPods.  Then Nintendo Wii.  Now iPhones.  Does anyone feel like screaming?!  Don't get me wrong.  There is plenty I absolutely love about technology.  The internet is the most amazing resource, and I love keeping up with family and friends on Facebook.  I'm enjoying the blogging world.  It's great to have a cell phone to call AAA when I have car trouble, to let a friend know I'm sitting in traffic, to catch up with my mom while on that long, quiet drive.  (Did I just admit that?  ...I don't text while driving!)  And texting is a very efficient means of communication when you don't have time for a long conversation.  The verdict on the GPS is still out for me.  That little box has led me astray more than a few times.

But with most wonderful things in life, there are also downsides.  (And here is where the ranting begins...)  I begin with the iPhone.  All I can say is that the thing is lucky to still be "alive."  It's so darn disruptive with its beeps and buzzing, alerting its user whenever a text comes through or a reminder alarm goes off.  And it's a constant temptation to "get connected," as if you are a poor lonely soul on a deserted island without internet connection.  And have you seen the couples out on a "date" at a nice restaurant, sitting across from each other, staring lovingly into.... the screen of their iPhones?!  Gag me!

Then there is the money thing.  Why is it that everyone has to upgrade every year?  These electronic industries are pretty smart and a whole lot greedy.  Every new gadget quickly becomes passe', and every gadget that replaces it comes with new accessories... chargers, ear buds, remotes, payment plans.  Can you hear the "cha-ching! cha-ching! cha-ching!"?

Probably my greatest complaint has to do with the time and attention theft that electronics bring along with their packages.  How many nights have I stayed up way past my bedtime being sucked into facebook alerts, only to experience the consequences the next day of being tired and grumpy?  And how often have we argued with our son over how much time he can spend in front of a screen or what he's allowed to watch in front of that screen?  And how many conversations have been interrupted by a cell phone ring?  And how many important moments have we missed with our children because Jarred and I are "just finishing up an email"? 

I certainly don't have the answers on what is a balanced use of the wonderful world of electronics.  I do know that I have sometimes longed to unplug it all and move to an intentional community which is intentional about avoiding an overuse of technology.  But I think intentionality is what is important when discussing electronic use.  My husband and I have sat down on many occasion to discuss what boundaries we will put on our children's use.  We've had discussions with one another about our expectations of the other's use. But I think we could do even better.  It's easy to look around and say, "Well, everyone else has this gadget or that cable plan; I guess we need it, too."  We can't forget to count the cost of constant connection, constant stimulation, constant conversion to the latest and the greatest.  I believe all this comes with a really high cost, and one that needs evaluated from time to time.