Loose Ends of Life

I was robbed. I have an olive green metal bucket
with a trio of snowmen painted on it. It has been
holding my spare change for nearly ten years now.
It sits near my computer. When I empty my wallet,
the change gets dumped in there. I was half-heartedly
saving the state quarters as they came out too. When
I got low on money in the bank, it was my back up bank
and emergency stash. I had another half-dozen state
quarters to deposit when I made the shocking
discovery that the bucket was empty. Not even a speck
of dust left.

What a horrible feeling! Anger and anxiety, fear and
frustration, puzzled and perplexed. I'll never know
who took it or why. One more loose end in life that
I must leave dangling while I go on with life.

There will always be loose ends in our lives. We will
have to let go of questions with no answers; give up on
problems with no solutions; accept that some mysteries
cannot be solved.

Why do bad things happen to good people? Why do
innocent children suffer and die each day? Why can't
we feed the hungry of this world? Or make peace a
lasting reality? Who did hide those Dead Sea Scrolls?
Is there really a Loch Ness monster?

The loss of my spare change pales in comparison to
these weightier matters. But it forces me to confront
some spiritual realities, I would rather avoid dealing with
all together.

What do "good" people do with anger and anxiety? How
do mature, responsible adults deal with fear and frustration?
When do intelligent and reasonable people give up on the
puzzling and perplexing things of life?

Anger and Anxiety
Anger is a tough call. We could be feeling justifiable,
righteous anger. Someone does something which hurts
us or someone we love. Anger is the natural and normal
emotional response. When we lash out with physical
violence, however, that is rarely justified – or righteous.
Physical activity – a long walk or a good workout at the
gym will help expend the energy in a healthy way.
Ranting and raving is essential for some folks though.
If done while confronting the wrong doer, this
will intensify the conflict along with our blood pressure.
Finding a safe place to scream and shout is a better
alternative, but not always possible Some people and
circumstances will make us angry. We need to think
ahead as to how we will deal with it.

Our anger could also be an adult temper tantrum.
We are not getting what we want when we want it,
and refuse to accept it with grace. Sometimes,
the storms of anger pass quickly and we apologize
for our outburst. Other times, we spend hours
complaining and condemning without remorse.
This is going to happen to the best of us, so we'd
best practice a few apologies ahead of time.

Anger can be our soul's way of giving us
courage. For anyone trapped in an abusive
relationship, the established routing is for
them to take whatever abuse – physical or
verbal – that the other person dishes out.
In order for them to break the cycle, they
must get angry enough to walk out. Fighting
back is not a wise option because the other
person has way more expertise. Feeling anger
means that the abused person is finally ready
to make positive changes.

Anger is not always a bad thing. It is a feeling
we must learn to understand and express in
healthy and helpful ways.

Anxiety can paralyze us. We can easily fall
into a rut of expecting and imagining the worst
possible outcome to absolutely everything.
This is called catatstrophising and we can become
very good at it.

On the other hand, anxiety may also help us.
It is like an alarm system warning us when
something awful truly is about to happen.

Anxiety is inevitable if we are alive and
breathing. It is a feeling which has much
to teach us, if we are willing to learn from
it. It can also imprison us, if we do not
learn how to get on with life in spite of it.

Fear and Frustration
Fear is full blown anxiety. It is what we
felt as children when we were sure there
were monsters under the bed, or lurking
in the closet at night. Many of us grew
up thinking that courageous people were
not afraid. We equated feeling fear with
being a coward. I was nearly thirty before
I understood that courage was the ability
to do what needed to be done in spite of
the fear one felt. Like anxiety, fear can
cripple, paralyze and imprison us if we
let it. Like anxiety, fear can alert us of
danger and help us to avoid harm.

Fear is an inescapable reality for living,
breathing human beings. It is another
emotion which we need to be able to
express and explore, without letting it
prevent joy and happiness for any longer
than it must.

Frustration can undo us in a heartbeat
no matter how mature and responsible
we think we are. Have you ever been
done in by a childproof cap? Have you
been heard uttering four letter words
while trying to follow the instructions
and assemble a child's toy on Christmas
Eve?

Frustration is also an inevitable
and inescapable human emotion.
I find it best to walk away from whatever
is causing it and come back again later –
cool, calm and collected. Or, better yet,
call someone else who has better skills
than I do for the task at hand.

There are times, when our frustration
will force us to admit defeat and give up.
These occasions serve the spiritual purpose
of keeping us humble. I don't know why
God designed life this way. Another
loose end with which we must learn
to live.

Puzzlement and Perplexity
These qualities are assets, unless we
expect life to be free of loose ends.
Curiosity about how things work and
why things happen means we will keep
on learning as long as we are alive.
Our inability to completely understand
how things work, or to answer why
things happen the way they do, means
that we will hit the brick wall of frustration
from time to time. When we are puzzled
and perplexed, we may also fear what
we cannot understand or control. When
we are puzzled and perplexed, we may
respond with anger and anxiety at the things
we do not understand and/or have no
control over.

For a few weeks, the mystery of who took
my spare change will preoccupy my thinking.
Meanwhile, I'll start saving my pennies,
nickels and dimes again, double check the
locks on my doors and windows and let
the whole thing fade into the web of loose
ends woven into my life. It will take time
to let go of it and get on with life without
thinking of it. But sooner or later, this loose
end will blend in with all the other loose ends
I expect God to tie up when we meet face
to face. Until then, I'll just keep racking up
those loose ends one day at a time.

Transportation Daze

August 21, 2006

As a child, my brother and sisters
and I rode our bikes fearlessly up and
down our road. I grew up in the country.
There was little traffic on our road. We
weren't supposed to ride out of sight of the
house. That was the rule. Some days though,
we were given permission (and some days we
did it without permission) to go around the curve
and down the hill past the nearest neighbor's house
to the east. What a thrill it was to speed down and
then coast up the other side of this little hill,
going as far as we could without any pedaling.
We would then make a u-turn and repeat the process,
perhaps stopping on the bridge at the bottom to check
for frogs, snakes and the occasional fish in the creek.
We could ride nearly two miles in the opposite direction
of our house and still be visible. There was little challenge
or thrill in going west. It was all level road. Naturally,
we whined, begged and pleaded for the privilege to ride
around the curve and down the hill, pouting and grumbling
when limited to the safer alternative.

I just got back from Chicago. I did NOT ride my bike.
I took the overnight train. It seemed like a good idea
at the time. The price was right. The seats looked
comfortable in the online pictures. They were not –
at least not for sleeping. If I ever take the overnight
train again, I will spring for a sleeper. The motion of
the train moving along the tracks feels like one is
rocking in a hammock – quite gentle and soothing
unless you are trying to walk down the aisle or use
the restroom. Unfortunately, the seats are
nowhere near as comfy as a hammock would be.
Sleep comes in fits and starts. The footrest is too
far away for short legs. I was told, it was too close
for long ones, too. The leg rest is sloped and left my
feet dangling in mid-air. The seat slopes and short
bodies slip slide down and must keep scooching back
up. Bringing one's own pillow and blanket are a
must which I did NOT know before I left.

There is a Lounge, a Bar and a Dining Car where one
can go for a change of pace and position. Betsye and
I lumbered down the aisle, balancing ourselves like
tightrope walkers, and made our way to through a few
passenger cars, then through the Lounge to the Bar.
I got a bottle of water which cost $2. We tried to scare
up some card players for a round of Euchre, but there
were no takers. We settled into a booth and dealt the
cards to play two handed. We had played exactly two
hands when we were informed that the lounge was
closing and we would have to return to our seats.
The train was overbooked and the lounge was used
for passengers the rest of the trip. I was trapped in
my uncomfortable seat, in the dark with a sleeping
seat mate. My friends were in the front of the car.
I had boarded in Rochester instead of Syracuse.
My assigned seat was in the same car but
not close enough for conversation. We arrived in
Chicago around 8:30 am – twenty minutes late, a bit
stiff in the joints but grateful to walk on solid ground.
Getting our luggage took awhile but we were
soon standing on the curb of Canal Street in the big
city of Chicago.

Our next transportation adventure was a taxi. Betsye
had a strap on her side of the cab. I did not. I learned
it was best not to watch traffic as the driver weaved
and bobbed with impunity and a recklessness that was
scary to me, but appeared essential to making any
headway in the busy city streets. We were dropped off
at the hotel where we unloaded our luggage and
navigated the revolving door with everything intact.
At the registration desk, we discovered that we were NOT
expected though all three of us had made reservations.
Surprise! There is more than one Hyatt Regency Hotel
in Chicago – and we were at the wrong one. Back through
the revolving door, back into a taxi and soon we were at
the right hotel. But our rooms were not ready. We
could not check into the hotel until after noon.

We could, however, check into our conference. We
checked our bags at the front desk and followed the
signs for the Conference Registration on the other
side of the hotel. It would be Thursday, just before
we left, when I realized that the Convention Center
was across the street as well as across the hotel.
The walk across the street was much shorter than
the route we had to take across the hotel. Oh well,
I got more exercise walking across the hotel.

Betsye was brave and took the El to one of our
dinners at the oldest United Methodist congregation
in Chicago. Others took the bus. I opted for sharing
a taxi ride. Shared with others, it was reasonable
cost-wise, and driving styles varied widely – some
more sane than others.

Betsye did get the three of us to take the El on
Thursday. The conference was over at noon
and our train did not leave until 8 pm. The El
is the elevated railway that takes folks all over
the city of Chicago economically and quickly.
You must know where you are going, be able to read
a train schedule and be prepared to stand
at rush hour. If I lived in Chicago, rather
than visiting, I would ride the El daily.
An automobile is not practical. Parking is expensive
and limited. Apparently, the citizens of
Chicago are not deterred by these facts,
for cars fill the streets at all hours. The lights
at crosswalks actually have a countdown. The
number 20 comes up in red when you have 20
seconds left to cross and goes down – 19,18, 17,
etc... It is quite the adventure to cross the street.

Our next transportation was a trolley. I think
it was a bus made to look like a trolley. There
are lots of them traveling the streets transporting
tired tourists. There are free trolleys to take you
around the block. Then there are trolley tours.
We paid $25 for an all day pass which meant
we could get on and off wherever we wanted.
It was a two hour tour of the whole city. We
got seats – big comfy window seats. Except
that there was no window – just open space,
great visibility and a welcome breeze. We
took pictures, craned our necks to see what
the tour guide was talking about along the way
and occasionally dozed off.

We got off one stop before the end of the tour,
about a block from where we started, and struck
out on foot across Millenium Park. We heard
a Jazz Band rehearsing in the outdoor band shell.
We heard and saw the Navy's Blue Angel fighter
jets doing maneuvers over our heads. We watched
children laughing, playing and splashing in the
wading area. We saw ourselves reflected in the
Cloud Gate sculpture – known locally as "The
Bean." And finally we found the public restrooms.

Bedraggled and sorry looking, we nonetheless,
made our way to the elegant Russian Tea Room
for afternoon tea and scones. Gennett and I
ended the day at the Art Institute. It was free
admission after 5 pm. Betsye took the El back
to the hotel, gathered up our luggage, engaged
a cab and came back to the Art Institute to pick
us up and we headed for the train station – and
our journey home..

It was crowded. It was noisy. It was hot.
I was tired. I was grumpy. I was not looking
forward to another 13 hour train ride. First
there was the line for checking luggage. It
was only a 20 minute wait but to my feet,
it felt like an hour. Thanks to Betsye for
saving my place in line and letting me sit down.
Then there was the boarding line. It filled
the waiting room which was meant to hold
half the number of people who were there.
Three other friends taking the same train
had been wise enough to get there an hour
early. They were at the head of the line.
Betsye and Gennett got to go to the head
of the line because they were both over 62.
Which left me, standing alone – well, as
alone as one can be when packed into a
room like sardines – and waiting for another
forty minutes. The train was supposed to
leave at 8pm. We did not even start boarding
until 8:20pm.

By Cleveland, we were an hour and a half
behind schedule. There was construction on
the tracks. We kept having to pull off and
stop to let freight trains go by. I was supposed
to arrive in Rochester at 8 am. It was 11 am
when we pulled into the station. At least on
this trip, I had been able to spend time in the
Lounge stretching out my back muscles.
A young man who had been on the train since
Tuesday – he was traveling from California
to Massachusetts – struck up a conversation
and we played cards for a few hours. It made
the time pass more pleasantly. And I had
brought my own pillows, too.

My friends and I ate breakfast in the Dining
Car. That was enjoyable. But I praised God
when I was finally able to get out of the train
and into my sister's Tracker – with its open sunroof.
And happier still, when I got behind the wheel of
my own car and headed for home.

As a child, riding my bike up and down our road
was effortless joy. I could do it for hours and not
feel the slightest bit tired. Mom had to threaten
punishment to get us to come home.

As a college student traveling across Europe
by planes and trains, my journeys were adventures
that I could not get enough of – and didn't want
to end. Lack of money usually determined
when the trip was over.

As an aging adult, I wish traveling was effortless
but I'm old and achy and it takes much effort.
Journeying is still an adventure but I quickly
get enough of it and periodically need a big
comfy bed and a good night's sleep.

The conference – 1500 United Methodist Women
Clergy celebrating 50 years of full clergy rights
for women – was awesome! More on that another
time. The traveling to and from reminded me
that I am no longer a child, no longer a fearless
adventurer and would return home in a heartbeat
if I heard Mom calling me.

Trust and Truth

August 7, 2006

Have you ever heard of Rev. M. R.
Watkinson of Ridley, Pennsylvania?
He wrote a letter to then Secretary of
State, Salmon P. Chase in November
of 1861. Eventually this led to the adoption
of our national motto in 1956. Do you know
what that motto is? "In God we trust."

Rev. Watkinson was afraid that the world
would think we were a heathen nation unless
these words – or something like them – were
imprinted on our coins and currency. It took
years for it to happen.

Trust is essential for peace. Trust is the
foundation of any meaningful relationship.
Trust is the foundation of faith – in God,
in other people, in one's self.

In today's world, trust is a quality in short
supply. Maybe it always has been.

In today's world, trust is hard to hold onto.
Maybe it always has been.

In today's world, trust is exploited to make
money. Maybe it always has been.

Drug companies advertise. They want you
to go to your doctor and ask for their product.
In spite of the daunting list of side effects
included in the ads, we do. These "name"
drugs may or may not be what we need.
Trust me, the drug companies are out to
make money, not healing miracles.

Remember the days of doctors who made
house calls? Doctors knew your name
and everyone in the family. There was a
one on one relationship. There was trust.

I listen to radio shows from the 40's.
The ads are woven into the show. The
stars sing the praises of their sponsors'
products without stopping the show.
Nowadays, we are subjected to 5-10 ads
inserted into the program, using very
sophisticated selling techniques targeting
different age groups with the latest products
before the show resumes.

Keep in mind that the object of any ad
is to convince us that we NEED what the
ad is selling. Ninety-nine percent of the time,
we don't need it. Ninety-nine percent of
ads are misleading, sometimes outright lies.

Advertisers study what makes us tick.
They know how to capitalize on our weaknesses.
They know how to intensify our fears.
They know how to infiltrate our imaginations
without our even knowing it. Today's advertising
tactics can and do wreak havoc with our ability
to trust in any absolute and divine truth.

How many ads have you seen, heard or read
today tempting you to indulge in a chocolate bar?
How many ads have you seen, heard or read
offering a miracle weight-loss product – some
insisting that you can still indulge in chocolate
bars and lose weight?

Is anyone else bothered by the content of
feminine hygiene and toilet paper ads ? When
did we invite laxative suppositories and erectile
dysfunction ads into our living rooms?
Do we really believe that we're going to
get a "huge" deal on a new or used car?
How much truth about menopause or prostate
cancer are we likely to learn from a TV ad
promoting a certain product?

As adults, we are savvy enough to believe
less than half of what we hear. Our children,
however, who have grown up being targeted by
advertisers do not always have the skills needed
to know what is true and what is not. Their
ability to trust is compromised – whether they
believe these ads or not – unless we teach them
otherwise. They have a hard time telling truth
from lies when they see sugar coated cereals
and fast-food restaurant meals bringing such
joy to the children onscreen.

Trust depends on truth. Once someone lies to us,
it is harder to trust. When enough lies have been
told, trust evaporates, as does the relationship.

"In God we trust." It has to be something we are
taught. It has to be based on truth. It has to be
a personal choice we make – day after day, year
after year.

In today's world, there are many children who are
not taught to trust God. I recently encountered a
young man of 10, who could not tell me what book
I was holding. It was The Holy Bible.

In today's world, there are lies, half-truths,
misinformation, disinformation and manipulation
of almost all that we hear, see or read. We have to
be able to read between the lines and constantly be
suspicious of any news we hear, see or read. Does
the person telling us any given set of facts, have an
ax to grind? Are there aspects of the situation they
refuse to see or acknowledge? Lies are passed
off as truth every day – especially in TV ads and
on the internet. It is not easy to tell truth from fiction.
Even for adults.

We have the difficult task of choosing – who is
trustworthy enough to teach us about trust? Who is
trustworthy enough to tell us the truth, the whole truth
and nothing but the truth?

There are no easy answers. There are no easy choices.
Keep this in mind: If it sounds too good to be true, it
probably is. Trust depends on truth. It is hard to tell
who is telling the truth. Many give up and stop trusting
all together. I pray for that we will have the courage to
keep trusting in God. I pray that we will all have the
privilege of finding trustworthy people we can love and
trust. I pray that we will all strive to pass on a legacy
of trust and truth for all the generations to come.

Sympathy and Empathy

July 31, 2006

When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd,
he had compassion on them...
because they were like sheep without a shepherd.
So he began teaching them many things.
Mark 6:34

According to Webster's Dictionary, compassion is
sorrow or pity aroused by the suffering or misfortune
of another. Jesus had more than sorrow or pity for
those people. He understood their feelings from the
inside out. And, based on what he sensed they
needed, he began to teach them things that they
needed to know. For some, there were healing
miracles that transformed their lives. For others
there were lessons given which they were not willing
to learn. For most, Jesus was God's love – a power
beyond comprehension, yet right at their fingertips.

Jesus had the gift of empathy. When one person can
feel another person's feelings as if they were their own,
it is called empathy. This ability is both a blessing
and a curse, as Jesus was finding out. He was sorely
in need of some time off, some quality time out.
Yet everywhere he went, folks followed him
and expected miracles – to be fed like he fed the
five thousand with five loaves and two fish, to be
healed like he did with so many and to be entertained
with hours and hours of teaching stories.

Jesus' ability to understand what people were going
through made it hard for him to stop working. No
matter where he went, there were people who needed
him. His reputation got around and the number of
people who wanted him to help them just kept getting
bigger. No wonder he would seek out a solitary place
to pray – even if it meant getting up at the crack of
dawn and sneaking off without telling anyone.
Whenever we are hurting, we need empathy.
Instinctively, we try to find someone who can
listen – and understand.

Some folks listen, nodding as if they understand, but
we know that they don't. They politely wait until
we are finished rambling. Then they leave – or
change the subject.

Some folks tell us right off that they are too busy
to listen but hope we are feeling better soon. And
they avoid us until they hear we are over the current
crisis. Frequently, when someone gets a diagnosis
of terminal cancer or some other disease, friends
and family stay away. They don't know what to say.
They think they know how the person must feel
which is awful. Those who stay away are most
likely fleeing from their own feelings about death –
and, in the process, failing to be their for their
friend or loved one.

Then, thank God, there is the person who lets us
talk as long as we need to talk, holds our hand or
gives us a hug and says just the right words. We
have no doubt that they understand and they care.
That alone, makes whatever crisis we are facing,
easier to handle.

Sympathy and empathy are used as if they mean
the same thing. Here's my take on the difference.
Empathy means feeling compassion – like Jesus
did – knowing another's feelings from the inside
out. Some people have this gift. Some do not.
Sympathy is a willingness to offer comfort even
though we only understand another's feelings
from what we see on the outside.

Empathy means that we can truly put ourselves
in another person's shoes – or that we have been
where they are and know exactly how the human
soul muddles through a certain situation. With
compassion, empathy walks with the other person
no matter how hard the journey becomes.

Sympathy means that we can see how hard it is
for the other person to walk in their own shoes,
but prefer to keep our distance. Either we know
we do not understand and walk away to let others
who are more qualified help; or we could also be
making a quick getaway – denying our own feelings –
or fears, in the case of death.

If we are offering empathy, we do not
stand on politeness. We do not try to
say the "right" thing. We do not expect
that the crisis at hand has a simple
solution. We do not offer a magical
or miraculous formulas for coping.
We listen. We stand in the circumstances
with our friend no matter how difficult
or painful. We know that sometimes
silence is louder than any words could
be. We know that the hard blows of reality
are complicated and long-term. We offer
no quick fixes.

On the other hand, when we offer sympathy,
we are polite – following age-old protocol
which we have learned from childhood.
We do and say the "right" things. We assure
the other person that we understand and are
there for them. We may or may not mean
it. We may or may not follow through.

I do not know if empathy can be learned.
I was born with it – or have had it as long
as I can remember. I used to think that
everyone had it – and that some chose not
to use it. I think now that some have it
and some do not. Some choose to develop
their empathy – as Jesus did – to help, to
teach, to comfort and console.

Whether we can offer empathy
or sympathy, the world needs
more of both. God was telling us
in Jesus: Never underestimate
the importance of your presence
in this world. Each person is
important. And we are each
important to each other – well,
we are if we live life in a spiritually
meaningful way.

God is telling us in Jesus: Even if
you don't have the 'right' words to
say, don't run away from the "tough
stuff" in your own life – or anyone
else's. Try to walk a mile in another's
shoes. Do your best to understand
what they are going through.

There will be times when neither
sympathy or empathy will help.
There were people that Jesus had to
give up on, too. We need to focus
our healing, helping energies on
those who want it as much as they
need it. Just as some folks offer
sympathy and run, there are some
folks who want neither sympathy
or empathy. They choose to cut
themselves off from help – and no
amount of compassion is going
to change that.

Still in all, we need to look at how
we are responding to the people
in our lives. Are we offering
polite sympathy when they need
a hands-on empathy? Are we
getting in their face with our
empathy, when they truly need
some time alone? Are we cutting
off the sympathy and empathy
our friends are offering – because
we don't want it; or because we
are too stubborn to admit that we
need it.

As human souls, we are fearfully
and wonderfully made. We are
also frightfully complex. God
gave us a lifetime to try to figure
it out. That's all the time we have
to share whatever sympathy or
empathy we find in our hearts.