Choose Love This Easter

Unconditional love, it seems hard to come by sometimes given our human tendency to love when it’s easy, or when there’s something in it for us.

As many of you know, I grew up in church. From around the time I was in kindergarten until the year that I finished seventh grade, attending church was okay with me. The Sunday evening services were lengthy for a kid; I remember doing a lot of drawing with the paper and pencil my parents brought for me. But Wednesday nights were fun because it was AWANA night, and my parents, grandma, aunt, uncle, and my older cousins were all leaders or helpers, and me, my sister, and a younger cousin were all participants.

When we moved during the summer between my seventh and eight grade years though, things changed. We started attending a church, and school, that seemed rather strange to me, even though I grew up in church.

Somewhere during those years, I started to dread going to church, and to chapel which was a weekly part of our experience in the small, parochial school. Whenever I entered the large room with its low ceiling and complete void of windows, I felt as though the air was being sucked out of my body, and any sense of hope, peace, and joy was being stolen from my spirit.

It was as though guest youth pastors were competing to tell the most horrific story of the deaths of “rebellious teenagers.” I recall one guy who told about a teenage girl who was hanging upside down in a burning car, her mother telling her to repent, but the girl refused to do so before burning to death in that accident. While I know tragic things happen to people, the cynical part of me wonders how many of those stories were actually true.

Stories like that, and the church’s pastor’s infamous sermon illustrations in which he maligned members of the congregation, or more often than not former members, who had disobeyed the church’s rules in some way, were all part of the tyranny by fear that took place in that church and churches of the same affiliation, churches that were void of love and grace.

It took quite some time before I was able to separate the character of the God of the Christian faiths from the character of those people who had claimed to represent Him and His message.

The misrepresentation of the character of God is not limited to that extreme denomination though. I have Catholic friends and family in law, and I’ve heard the term “Catholic guilt” used on more than one occasion. It’s no wonder so many Christians could grow up with the concept of a God who is waiting to punish and destroy us at His first opportunity.

But if that were true, God would certainly have had the opportunity to have done so by now, many times over.

The God described in the Old Testament does appear to be the kind of God represented by the leaders of extreme denominations, the God who is waiting to kill us by opening up the earth and swallowing us whole. But Tim Keller presents a different picture in his study “A Journey Through Lent.” 

During this Lent season, I have been reading that study by Tim Keller. I did it last year too actually, but this year something completely different has spoken to me. It is the theme that permeated everything leading up to the crucifixion itself.

Even in the strangeness of some of the Old Testament passages, we can see the implementation of God’s ultimate plan. His plan was always to make a way for the restoration of the broken relationship between humans and the Divine.

The holiness of God does highlight our need for restoration. If we have any ability at all to be introspective, we would have to admit that we are far from perfect, and we are indeed unworthy of having a relationship with God.

Yet the God who designed humankind loved all of us from the beginning, and He loves each one of us now. 

During the Christmas season, we talk about the birth of Jesus as being the greatest gift ever given, but the greatest sacrifice was yet to come.

Look at the cross this Easter Sunday. See Jesus there, and you will see the true character of God – God’s love for each of us personified. Look into the tomb and see the hope, peace, and joy that is available to us because of Jesus’s resurrection.

Whether you choose Him or not, you can see God’s true character on Easter weekend because the cross and the empty grave are the greatest manifestation of unconditional love that humans will encounter.

 

A Female Trifecta

I’m not very good at being a girl sometimes.

I’ve never really considered myself to be a “girly girl” or a fashionista. I wasn’t a big fan of dolls when I was young. I did have two Cabbage Patch kids though, and I did play with Barbies; my Malibu Barbie had a silver corvette.

I always wanted a Corvette myself, but a deep, royal blue one. I chose to look at cars over clothes and at sports magazines over bridal magazines as a teenager. I really didn’t have a “style” of my own, but as an artist at heart, I kind of admired people who did.

As an adult woman, I’m still not great at the “girl” stuff. I use a backpack almost all of the time. I work on a college campus as a biology tutor, and I carry everything I need in my medium-sized American Diabetes Association red backpack, things like keys, a wallet, a brush, a charger, earbuds, a water bottle, and my lunch. When I go to the local elementary school to coach Girls on the Run I take my backpack. If I get on my bike and ride the mile or so to our little downtown, I have my backpack on. It’s just convenient to have everything in one place and ready to grab and go.

When it’s time for date night or church, I dislike having to find somewhere else to put my wallet, brush, cell phone, lipstick, and reading glasses. I don’t like purses, especially not those massive ones in which I could pack nearly everything I need for a camping trip. I guess I do need a purse, but I want one that’s small and that would “go” with everything because I’m not about to change purses for every date night or Sunday service.

I mean no disrespect to those of you who know exactly what fabrics to wear together; what styles will be in before the season even starts; and how to put together the perfect look for every occasion. In fact, I rather envy you at times.

It’s just not my thing though.

During March, which has been designated Women’s History Month, the #LetsTellHer campaign has been circulating on social media. I had chosen to participate as public posts made during the month of March using the #LetsTellHer hashtag would result in a donation to the Girls on the Run program.

As I thought about what I wanted to post, I thought about the definition of “being a girl,” about the vast differences in our personalities – our interests, our hobbies, our styles, and about our interactions as women.

In looking for something to post on my Facebook page, I found a meme that was perfect: “Be a girl with a mind; a women with attitude; and a lady with class.”

I believe it is vitally important that girls are encouraged from a young age to “have a mind,” to be allowed to be curious, to question, to explore, and to learn. I believe that girls should be challenged in areas of math and science as well as the areas of study, such as writing and performing arts, more traditionally designated as strengths of the female sex. I believe that girls should understand how to interpret information that is presented to them in a logical manner.

Successful adult women need that kind of mental dexterity. We need to know how to test ideas for validity. We need to be confident in exploring our interests and in expanding our roles in a variety of areas of life. We need to be women with attitude.

One formal definition indicated that “attitude” is reflected in one’s behaviors. As I think about “attitude,” I think it can be expressed as integrity, courage, confidence, boldness, decisiveness, and strength.

Given the way that “attitude” is sometimes represented to young women today though, I believe that maybe the most important line of the meme is about being “a lady with class.”

I’ve always thought of a lady as being someone who certainly has herself together, and who even has some attitude. But when I think of a lady, I think of that woman who may be among the most intelligent, confident, and decisive people in the room, but she is also among the most subtle, gracious, and thoughtful – in every way – people in the room. She knows she can handle herself and her business, yet she is above all else discerning. She can fight when she needs to, but due to her wisdom, she rarely needs to.

I believe that these three personas are not mutually exclusive – the girl with a mind, the woman with attitude, and the lady with class. Often I still think of myself as a girl; that self-image feels like freedom to be myself, riding a bike, enjoying a cupcake, learning about something new. Though I am an adult woman now – with my share of attitude, I definitely aspire to be a lady with class.

A

 

 

It’s My Party, Or Not Really

What makes a birthday meaningful?

My birthday is coming up at the end of March. My husband and I usually do something fun, and for the “big” birthdays I often get to spend time with my family as well.

I had plans for this birthday as this year began. It’s my 45th, not necessarily one of those big ones, but a number I happened to like, being a fan of odd numbers and of fives in particular.

Though I’ve run some Girls on the Run 5ks, the last time I ran a race that was for me was just after my 40th birthday when I ran the Illinois Half Marathon. Lingering injury issues have made returning to running challenging so I knew a half marathon was out of the question, but I thought about something fun and close like a Maple Syrup Festival 5k near where one of my sisters and her family lives.

I had thought of fun things to do other than running to celebrate my 45th too, like going to Dirty Dog Jazz Café again since my husband and I had enjoyed that so much when we celebrated our anniversary there.

I awaited my husband’s March schedule to see what we might be able to do on, or near, my birthday. It’s on a Thursday, and I figured it would be our luck that he would be working that day, but that would be okay because he would have the Saturday following off. Usually he’s off every other Saturday, and when he works Saturday, he usually has Thursday off, so either way it would be good.

It didn’t turn out that way though.

Not only is he working both Thursday and Saturday that week, but he’s also working open to close Wednesday through Saturday because his manager has vacation time. And when his work schedule is that way, that means I get a very annoying schedule myself. I’ll be on campus from 7:50 to 6:40 the Wednesday before my birthday then back on campus at 7:50 on my birthday.

I work shorter days on Thursdays, and though I’m committed to coaching Girls on the Run on Tuesdays only this season, I’ll go some Thursdays to help out. I thought perhaps spending my birthday Thursday with our GOTR team would be fun, but they’re on spring break that week.

In December I was talking with a former professor on the day that another former student of his believed to be either the day before or the day of his birthday. I said to him, “So rumor has it your birthday is very soon.”

His answer was something about how he definitely had a birthday because he had been born, but as I expected, he didn’t reveal the date.

I knew that it was close to that December day though because he had said his daughter had called to say that they couldn’t get together with him on his birthday and wondered if they could do it another day. He had said it was fine with him because it was just another day.

He added that when people know it’s your birthday they “bother” you by dropping by your office and wishing you a happy birthday and wanting to talk, which really isn’t fun because you’re not getting the things done that you need to be getting done. I expressed that I pretty much agreed with his thoughts about birthdays being just another day.

As adults, we have come to expect that birthdays will indeed be just another day filled with the routine and the mundane. We know that the world does not pause to celebrate our existence like it did when we were kids.

Still, though I might want to be, and though I thought I was, I guess I’m not yet as stoic about my birthday as my former professor seems to be about his.

I really was hoping for – something. Honestly I don’t know what though. I’ve never been one who likes the spotlight, nor have I been one who is into big crowds or crazy parties, and I don’t see the need to spend excessive amounts of money even for birthdays. To race again would have been nice, but our schedule and my body just aren’t cooperating this year.

I suppose that what I really want for that day is what most of us want every day, a fairly easy and peaceful one without life’s big stresses and drama. I can’t be with most of the family and friends with whom I would choose to celebrate the day, but I’ll be happy knowing they’re doing well when the day comes to its close.

Perhaps being more concerned about the people I love than about myself this year will make this birthday meaningful.

 

My (Controversial?) Something New

I have what I would call a standing new year’s goal. Each year I aspire to try something new.

When I added that goal to my list for 2018, I had no specific “something” in mind, but I figured I had all year to find an interest or have a new experience.

As it turns out, I met my goal fairly early on. Last week my husband and I went to Cincinnati on my winter break. We went for the sunshine, unseasonably warm temperatures, and of course the regionally famous Cincinnati chili.

While we were having lunch at Blue Ash Chili, one of the restaurants that serves the local dish, my husband mentioned that he thought it would be interesting to do something he hadn’t done before, and he thought I hadn’t done before.

Intrigued, I said okay….

He said that he was interested in going to a range and firing a handgun as he had only done so once really, and he thought I had never had that experience. I confirmed that I hadn’t. I was interested in the idea, but I continued eating thinking that this was a “someday” type thing, not a “within the hour” type thing.

As it turned out, there was a shooting range about a mile from the restaurant, so we drove over to see if we could rent a spot on the range for half an hour.

While I really wanted to go, I kinda didn’t. I was feeling rather intimidated, but that bit of nervousness was mixed with intrigue. Because I don’t see all that well, I thought I might suck, and I said that out loud to my husband as we neared the range. But I had fired long guns before, a 22 and even a shotgun, so I did have a little experience handling firearms.

If you’ve never handled weapons before, or have never been to a shooting range, I will tell you that responsible people take the experience very seriously.

The first time I shot the long guns, the 22 and the shotgun, I was with my husband, my family, and a friend of my family on an outdoor range that was set up on the family friend’s large piece of property in northern Michigan.

We were given the rundown of the expectations of the property owners for people using their range and their targets. My husband gave instructions about using the guns to those of us who hadn’t shot before, and once we were all prepared to begin, we spent some time on a warm, autumn afternoon shooting the two guns.

My dad had served in the Army, and he really seemed to enjoy shooting the rifle again. We all had a good, and safe, afternoon.

Though there were appropriate safety precautions taken on that casual afternoon in northern Michigan, the experience we had at the range in Cincinnati last week was much more formal. It was clear that they took their business seriously.

The range was located in an industrial park type of area in a large, solid building. We walked into the showroom which was lined with aisles of ammunition and glass cases that contained various guns for sale.

We went to the area where people check in to use the range. We read the rules, presented our ID, signed in, paid the fees, and collected our safety equipment. We were instructed to put on our safety equipment, ear protection and safety goggles for me (my husband’s prescription eye glasses were valid eye protection according to the man who checked us in) at the counter before we entered the range. We were also told that a safety officer was on the range in case we needed any assistance. Of course, he was also there to enforce the rules.

My husband did receive some instruction from the safety officer, who was quite good – knowledgeable and courteous – since he hadn’t used the specific type of handgun that we had rented before. Then we put up our target, that looked something like a Sesame Street lesson on number, colors, and shapes, and began our half hour on the range.

The gun we had chosen was a 22, but a handgun rather than a long gun as we were at the range to shoot something different. It was light with little impact to the shooter upon firing. It was easy to load and to use. Though I got used to the scent and the sounds on the range, one thing that I always find kind of annoying is the flying shell casings.

All in all, it was a positive experience. I definitely hope to do it again.

For me this experience was not dissimilar to when I go with my husband to the driving range at the golf course. I like hitting balls off the tees and putting on the practice greens. I’m not a golfer and presently don’t intend to become one, but I have fun when we do that together.

I don’t own a hand gun and presently don’t intend to purchase one, but I did find the experience at the range to be a fun way to spend some of an afternoon on vacation.

I was never comfortable sharing this experience on social media last week. I found that a little sad, but given recent events, I felt like I might be subject to some criticism.

With the current tendency of some people to categorize other people in an all or nothing manner, I could see someone taking my post, that never was, about how I had gone to a shooting range on vacation and turning me into an NRA member who is “responsible for millions of deaths by association.” Yes, that is a quote; it is the belief of the owner of a popular spice company who embeds verbose political posts in his marketing emails.

incidentally, I am not an NRA member nor even exactly a big supporter of the organization, however I certainly do not believe that every NRA member,  or gun owner who isn’t an NRA member, is personally responsible for millions of deaths. That is an invalid and illogical conclusion.

I really didn’t want to put myself in a position to be put into such boxes. I just wanted to enjoy something new with my husband on our all too short vacation, and I did.