Wednesday, November 27, 2013

The Y in Why- Part 2

So apparently some folks didn't follow me when I took the left turn and started talking about all the "T" stuff. Let me try again.  So T is me hearing that my job at YFC has been terminated (because I just care too much). In other words a traumatic, disturbing, and/ or difficult situation.   T+1 is the hour, or day or whatever time fragment you choose desire after finding out that I have lost my job.  Make sense?

So my last suggestion was that I am leaning to believe that God is not in the why of the "T", meaning that God did not push the lever that caused my boss to fire me.  For me to look for and ask God "why?" may be doing myself an incredible disservice because I can possibly miss out on creating meaning for the event.  I think I'm confusing myself, but I am suggesting that the meaning of the "why" in an event only comes in our defining it with what we do with it.

I'm almost ready to erase this because suddenly it seems that I'm trying to make something that is pretty simple complicated, but maybe there is some good that can come out of this car wreck.

If I see God not in the "why" of the event, in other words "for what meaning did God do this" but rather I see God in the T+ moments then perhaps that does a couple of things.  First, it allows me to let God "off the hook" so to speak and allows me to trust Him faster.

Second, it allows me to see myself not as a pawn on the board just waiting for someone to give me my next move, a passive boor that hopes that good will come out of an awful event,  but rather a willing player (and more importantly a partner) that has a tremendous amount of power in creating the meaning after the event has happened.

So if someone asks, "why would God allow you to get fired?", my answer really needs to be (if I'm following my own script), "well, let's find out."  The meaning is to be created and I am a partner in that with God.

I remember one of those "Ah Hah" moments in one of my first counselling classes as I started seminary.  Dr. Russell talked about Genesis 1, about the chaos that existed and God moving into the chaos to create something new.  Dr. Russell then suggested that as counsellors (pastors, teachers, nurses, any vocation with people as your widget) our job is to move into the chaos that people bring into our offices and together with God, partner to create something new.  That was a metaphor that was very powerful then and continues to be today.

Now I know this brings up a whole bunch of theological stuff regarding the ability of God in space and time.  I can't touch that right now (both for the sake of time and for the sake of my ability).  However, my point and suggestion is this.  What if you could let God off the hook with pushing the button that created the awful thing in your life?  What if there is a possibility that when that awful thing happened that God said, "oh dear, that's going to leave a terrible mark and I wish it wasn't so."

And what if the meaning of the awful thing has everything to do with what comes T+ and you get to play an active role in it?


Wednesday, November 20, 2013

The Y in the Why

I've been contemplating different things as of late, one of which is meaning.  My view of providence (God's interaction with the world and us) has been all over the map as of the last decade or so.  One of the books that is on my list to finish is Terry Thiessen's "Providence & Prayer."  Dr. Thiessen was a professor at Providence Seminary when I did my post-secondary work there and he is a theological genius (not on his business card but likely tattooed somewhere on his body).  It was his course that really propelled my interest in providence and as I work with people who are hurting it is a topic that often will bubble to the surface.

In short I struggle with the idea that God is active in our daily events.  Maybe that's not it.  Maybe I struggle with the idea that God organizes daily events.  Truth be told I can really be drawn to the idea that God is distant is His interactions with us.  It makes things simpler in many ways and strangely I find it comforting.

Often I hear people ask the question, "why would this (insert troubling, tragic, disappointing, life altering event here) happen?"  This makes sense of course because naturally we want some form of meaning to appear since our body systems are in the business of trying to keep us safe.  Having a "why" answered may allow us to avoid catastrophe in the future and/ or it may insulate us and allow us to continue feeling that we're immune to awful things popping into our lives.

Quite frankly I don't know if God "allows" things into our lives.  Somehow I feel like God allowing it and God giving us the goods are connected at the hip.  I think I get that it's different.  I mean as a parent I can allow something to happen without initiating it like watching my son walk around with a clothes hamper on his head.  "That's going to end badly", I think.  But maybe bumping into the wall will help him understand that it's likely a poor idea.  Plus it's cheap entertainment.  But if I know that Cooper will fall down the stairs and cause himself significant harm I'm (likely) to stop that from happening.  I don't know my point in that but perhaps you see my struggle?   If you can't it's this: I feel like God "allowing" something to come into our lives with full knowledge of the devastation it causes is the same as God pushing it on us.  And it makes me very uncomfortable.

I'm no theologian and many people can slap me sideways with Scripture that may lay out their counter to that proposal.  I'm fine with that and I'll be the first to say I have not done exhaustive exegetical work on this.

In some ways I guess I've come to the place (which could be very temporal) that the "why" is completely insignificant and if I could be so vulnerable I would lean to the side of suggesting that God isn't in the Point T "why."  I do believe that He is in the T+1, 2 and so forth "why" though.

Let me quickly explain this.  T is the event (accident, loss, diagnosis, etc) and T+ are moments post-event.

I have run out of time to finish this off so I'll let this stew (more for myself than anyone actually reading this) and catch up soon.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

"And Our Hearts Nodded"

Brief post as I sit in between clients on my Wednesday.  I read over Bill Mallonee's latest Blog Post and it's a good read that I would recommend.  I'm a Mallonee fanatic, have been for a while but have recently come to terms with it.  By that I mean that I used to feel silly for following and listening to one artist so closely. After all, there are many, many fantastic songwriters out there.  Why put so much energy into just one guy that most people haven't heard of?  As I've mentioned before it's because he "brings it" over and over again.  Sonically he can be hit and miss sometimes, I'll admit that.  But in terms of songwriting, I don't think anyone resonates with me as deeply as Mallonee.  He puts out a tremendous amount of music (57 albums and counting) and so I figure that if I love something and the amount of work to finger through is that deep and wide then perhaps it's a worthwhile endeavour to spend so much time with him.

In the aforementioned blog post Bill runs through his latest albums, sketching each song and their roots. I haven't listened to it yet, but the notes for track 2, "And Our Hearts Nodded" jumped out at me:

"How did those prophets, poets and troubadours “know?” How did they give nomenclature to the truths that cascade in rivers with us? How were they able to enshrine those same truths we so often close our ears to. Pain, suffering, deprivation, mortality." 

Bill was referencing the fact that as get older you gain appreciation and respect for writers and others whose work reflects the depth of life.  "Pain, suffering, deprivation, mortality", that is both what keeps us from listening well and the recipe for the ability to peer well into life.

And that "recipe" is what I see often in my vocation and why my vocation has become both a source of deep meaning for me and a reason that some days I just want to not think about my work.

But what I get to see is courage, hope, understanding, frustration, bravery, rage, heartache, sacrifice and, well, you fill in the blank.  And if I'm smart about it I'll take what others have seen and experienced from "a life on the road" and use it as backing and fortification, softening and empathy in my own sense of self. Character is built largely through the "recipe" listed above but I hope that I can borrow what has been learned and built from others.  Partly because I'm terrified of building my own character through my own personal suffering and partly because I think it's how we're created; to be able to "lean in", listen well to each other's stories and feel our "Hearts Nod."  In many ways this is why I often wonder if I'm a bigger winner than many of the people I work with.  They teach me far more than I can ever teach them.

From "Cities of Ruin"

"They say in heaven you'll get your real name

Carved into a precious stone
Drifting through those cities of ruin
On your way back home"

Thursday, November 7, 2013

Scene 12, Take 14

If you haven't figured it out by now there is some pattern to my posts.   Outline a character, put them in a context, share an amusing or challenging anecdote and then fill in some of the blanks with what can often look like a hard luck story.

I do this all on purpose of course, but not to play Russian Roulette with your emotions.  I don't intentionally get you laughing and then pull the rug out, but it does happen from time to time.  Which is what happens on a continual basis when you work with people in general and people with extremely difficult stories in particular.

But the reason I have adopted this tactic is to (hopefully) give you a rounder picture of the people I work with and (hopefully) of people in general.  If you would see a Keith or Vicki on our streets you would likely ask the question, "what's wrong with them?"  They don't look that appealing truth be told.  But they are people with great senses of humour, deep insight, quirky ideas and though they at times smell worse than most people you encounter (depending on your line of work) they are pretty normal.  The exception on the "normal" tag is often the profound hurt and loss that they've experienced in their lives.  Acts of commission and omission on their lives have left marks (at times cavernous) deep and wide through their hearts, souls, brain chemistry and ability to be whole.

How different are you and I?

We all have a suitcase (sizes may vary) with "stuff" that has shaped us and continues to shape us and informs our perceptions, reactions, etc.  What I've discovered and encountered is that people almost always have good reasons for what they do.  It's almost never random or off the grid.  Often when I hear stories from our tenants that help me understand their own story I am convinced I would make similar choices (or worse ones) if I had their script to read from.

This doesn't excuse, rather it reveals.  Awareness brings understanding and often compassion, or at least on good days.  And awareness also brings responsibility to put in the necessary work to be different.  But that doesn't take away from the power of the script.

So I tell the stories of the people I work with in order to allow them to be people and not simply characterchers, and to give you just a tiny sliver to help explain why they are like they are.

Wouldn't it be nice to let other people in sometimes so they could see why you get defensive when someone asks you about your parents, why you look away from their gaze when they ask you how you're doing, why you feel a numbing cloud that seems to come over your mind when someone is upset with you?

Wouldn't it be nice if you knew the answers to those questions first?

I digress.  The bottom line is we all have a script that we read from and it's more than dialogue.  It's actions, it's direction, it's commentary.  So kids, the message today is have a deep compassion for yourself because there are good reasons why you do what you do.  As you're doing that remember to extend that compassion to your family, friends, co-workers and even that SOB neighbour of yours.  It's hard and quite frankly sometimes nearly impossible depending on the amount of hurt that you have experienced and are experiencing.

So start with yourself and then extend.

In the wise words of Bill Mallonee and his song All That is Dear to Your Heart:

We're blind folks reading the braille of our heart
We're all spies breaking codes everyday
Sooner or later it comes down to love
Received then given away