Honoring Life

**This post was first written prior to the new year and feels more befitting now, as we remember the atrocities of the Holocaust, face the disservice and discriminatory courses being set under this new presidency, and continue to battle each other over who is really fighting for justice.

I've watched this from childhood and firsthand: honor without accountability distorts the truth. We all see it. Privilege that separates destroys us. Disgrace abounds among public figures. Life after "admired life" is cut short because the limelight burns too close. How many families of every sphere are destroyed by the abuse of power and addiction to esteem?

On Facebook today, I warned about treating our leaders like idols. I specified those in uniform because of the relativity to some of my own experiences. However, we must watch how we show respect to any leader, be they soldier, preacher, actor, teacher, politician. Whether highly visible or not, when someone is given the responsibility of a role, a title, a uniform, we must not place them on a pedestal.  Set them up on a ledge, we set them up for a fall.

These people are people. Like you, like me, with purpose and potential, they are still broken, messy, flawed, prideful people. By holding them too high, at arms length, we isolate them and leave them to their own defenses, distorting their place in the community. We dishonor them. Want to give what you believe is due them? Then, more than hollow recognition, give them your friendship. Work alongside them, to thank them, hear them, care for them, pray for them. Hold them accountable, but never out of reach. Follow, but never blindly.

Another distortion is disregard. Countless leaders (like the common person and the destitute) will never get recognition in pay or with publicity, but they're no less worthy of respect. There are those in our families, at our workplaces and on our streets whose existence we distort by our indifference. Enacting outright discrimination is a problem that goes unsaid. No, we must consider the disparity of when the only lives shown sincere regard are the ones in blue, the ones in the womb or the ones that look just like me or you. Call apathy its mother. Such an aberration ignites terror, war, genocide!

Be not a respecter of persons but respect life itself. Every life. Be mindful of yourself and open up. Fight every prejudice within. Stop drawing dividing lines with your words and attitudes. Every good cause can embolden the next. Mourn those who die alone, grieve the forgotten. Listen to the broken-hearted as well as the enraged. They're the same. Notice someone you have never noticed. I repeat, thank them, hear them, care for, support and befriend them as you do your leaders and those revered by the masses.

This kind of honor is the pedestal. In its proper place, it will serve as a foundation for all of society, all of humanity to be built on. Then, all that is living might have a chance to flourish.

Life is a gift that belongs to all. Honor it by honoring all.

I'm back

I guess I'm back on Blogger with tales to tell in a whole new place. A literal one this time.

We moved to Colorado over the summer and now live in the one of the country's richest, "safest," cleanest places.  In Boulder County, the beauty alone evokes pleasure, strength and venture with every daybreak! The receptiveness from everyone we meet is wonderful and it frees us to be ourselves. It’s nearly too much to comprehend how many facets of opportunity this culture provides to enrich our lives.  This is a season for restoration and enlargement.

Intriguing, then, are the frequent dreams at night that I have of home in NJ. With all the celebration I'm taking in, I'm not longing to go back. They’re not leftover nightmares about troubled days, either. But they do cause heartache.  Sometimes the prostitutes appear, the homeless, the drug dealers, the imprisoned.  They’re all there, with our other neighbors and friends, going about their usual business like any other day in Millville.  And I’m there with them.

As major changes go, it's natural to miss what's familiar, and our neighborhood was the thing most palpable, dynamic and affecting to me.  It wasn’t relatives nearby, our church friends, the other places I frequented or my regular escapes into nature. Life was a struggle on our troubled street, but it was home.  And it’s where I loved and found Love.

I’m paying attention to these dreams and the feelings welling up, to the grief over how much tragedy occurs and how many lives are ever-stuck in emptiness, darkness and despair.  I’m considering how it all translates into life here and the now-distant relationship to Millville.  Yet I recognize the need to let things play out as they will, in their own timing, so to enjoy the gift of the present.

Years ago, Kenn gave me Mother Teresa’s A Simple Path.  I do prefer weightier books but decided to read it another time.  It’s straightforward, like the life of Teresa and her fellow missionaries: all sincere yet most unsophisticated.  Except for their love.  To simply love, with no questions asked (or strings attached) and no judgments made, this is the most profound way of life.  It is The Way.

Almost daily, I celebrate how our NJ days rooted us deeper on that Way.  Those times enlighten these, like a preface to a book. How will this story of Love go on?  Let's let the Artist do the unveiling.

Unfold the Tapestry.

prayer and a life sentence

this week, a young man was sentenced to 68 years in prison. four years ago, he took another man's life. now he'll likely spend the rest of his locked up. he murdered a man from our town, one who's brother is an acquaintance of ours, a committed community leader and a pastor of a nearby church.

i read the story online, watched a video taken at the sentencing, and began to pray. first for his fianceé and the ones closest to him. for our pastor friend and all the "victims" of this crime. even for others involved in the proceedings. finally, i looked at the face of this convicted man (barely a man, really) and then was my spirit overwhelmed. i pondered what a life he faces, the life he ultimately chose, and i could not help but weep for him. within seconds, i was wishing i could stand beside him, a friend ready to walk with him, no matter his demeanor, conscience or plea.

the more common reactions from any one of us could likely be a shrugging off of such tragedy as all-too-common, a ranting of opinions on how the case was handled, or maybe a shaking of heads in prideful pity thinking we could never be so evil. perhaps we're burdened for the ones who lost their loved one in this dreadful way. or God forgive us, we may even vengefully delight in this young man's demise.

i believe what happened in me had much to do with prayer. i brought my thoughts and feelings into conversation with God and my mourning came, my deepest compassion flowed for the criminal. prayer can do this. not like magic. prayer isn't a game or trick or formula for getting our wishes. when we truly practice prayer, we let ourselves receive God's dreams and understand his passions, even while bringing ourselves before him. choosing to pray this way is yielding, it's placing ourselves at God's mercy. full of mercy that he is, we find that mercy flowing for us. and one day, it overflows to others.

if you're feeling the need for kindness or really want a different heart, try more prayer. give a little more time and grant the Spirit a little more space. into the most empty (emptied) places, the most mercy will flow.

have mercy on our souls.