Why did I wait so long?

As a writer with a B.A. in literature, you'd think I'd have read Wendell Berry by now. He was on my list of authors who I was embarrased to say I'd never read. Don Delillo's also on the list. And Walker Percy. You can't see me, but my cheeks are burning with shame.

The other day I was sitting in the Pediatric ICU with my friend Jane, as her dear little 7 month old daughter was recovering from her second heart surgery. Between the alarming beeps from all of the machines, and our visits to her bedside to see if she was opening her eyes, and between the annoyingly chatty nurse who kept interrupting our conversation, we managed to talk about what we were reading. "I just finished reading Hannah Coulter by Wendell Berry" said my friend. 'Oh my gosh, I"ve always wanted to read Wendell Berry"! I said. Thankfully, she didn't look at me like I was a total poseur for claiming to be a woman of letters and never having read Berry.

Next time I saw her she loaned me the book and I finished it in two days. Why did I wait so long? Maybe because I felt like I "Should" read Berry....and "Should" is never a very good motivation for me.

But now I am motivated to read more of his work. Two memorable passages will give you an idea why:

"I began to know my story then. Like everybody's, it was going to be the story of living in the absence of the dead. What is the thread that holds it all together? Grief, I thought for a while. And grief is there sure enough, just about all the way through. From the time I was a girl I have never been far from it. But grief is not a force and has no power to hold. You only bear it. Love is what carries you, for it is always there, even in the dark, or most in the dark, but shining out at times like gold stitches in a piece of embroidery."

and...

"...The chance you had is the life you've got. You can make complaints about what people, including you, make of their lives after they have got them, and about what people make of other people's lives, even about your children being gone, but you mustn't wish for another life. You mustn't want to be somebody else. What must do is this: "Rejoice evermore. Pray without ceasing. In every thing give thanks." I am not all the way capable of so much, but those are the right instructions."

Thanks, Jane, for encouraging me to read this wonderful author. Now, does anyone have a copy of "Falling Man" they'd like to loan me?

On living boldly

I feel a bit disconnected from you....(all five of you)....my dear readers. And I feel a bit disconnected from myself. For the past 6 months I've been crazy with work. That, for a freelancer, is a very good thing. However, the downside is I haven't been able to come up for air. And haven't had time to even think....which is necessary for a writer. It's not just the time to sit down and WRITE, it's the time to THINK.... to mull things over, figure out what they mean, come to some kind of opinion or thought, and then form a cohesive sentence. I haven't had time to feed my creative soul, much less try to produce something of substance.

But now, after 6 months of frenzied work, there's a lull. This is both good and bad. I'm looking forward to the next week of organizing my office, working out, reading, writing, getting centered again. But if it lasts too long, I'll become a ball of anxiety, fearful that the work has dried up for good, which is a creative block in and of itself.

Even though I haven't had time to think -- life keeps throwing things at me. Lots there to mull over when I have the time. Like the fact that I went to a funeral yesterday for a baby girl who didn't live long enough to see the faces of her parents. And that during the funeral I was sitting next to my friend who's 7-month-old baby girl has had a precarious life so far, and at times we didn't think she would make it. I feel so priveledge to be friends with these mothers -- these women who are teaching me so much about life. This baby stuff....having children....losing children.....loving sick children.....and the pain of not being able to have children....leaves one raw and vulnerable and exposed. And the fact that these mothers are dealing with it gracefully and honestly and allowing those around them to be a part of it. This is the stuff of Christian community. I'm learning so much from them.

And it shows me how much I want to insulate myself from that pain. I'm afraid to have kids, to be honest. It's a risky enterprise. To allow myself to be open to that pain? I see others on the quest to parenthood try to insulate themselves from that risk as well. That's why there's genetic testing, and the quest to find the "perfect"' egg donor, and the quest for the "perfect" adopted child. I find myself going down that road as well. But then I realize that life is just plain risky if you actually live it. We can insulate ourselves from this pain. It's messy but in that mess is beauty and wisdom and growth. That's what I'm learning from my friends. And seeing them living in the midst of the pain and messiness makes me less afraid.

This summer David and I had the chance to host a couple of Russian orphans for a summer camp -- with the ultimate purpose of adopting. But I hesitated. Our lives weren't "perfect" enough. I felt too insecure about my work situation....and with David going back to school I wondered if we should, and then there was the issue of our small condo. And I worried about the expense of Russian adoption, and the diffuculties of adopting older kids. Basically, I was living out of fear instead of trust. And I'm regretting it.

So I waited about a week before emailing the summer hosting director. By then it was too late. The small window of opportunity had closed. I still think about those two little girls. I walk by the girl's clothing section at Target and imagine the clothes I would have bought for them. I rearrange the office furniture to figure out how we could have fit bunk beds in our small space -- it could have worked.

I want to live boldly. I don't want to live in fear and perfectionism.

I've done it before. I know I can do it. Like when I met my husband and married him 8 months later. And when I sponsored a refugee family without having any extra money. And when I flew to Kosovo, despite my fear of flying, to work in an orphange. I know I can do it and those are the times when I felt like I've been living life to the fullest. I think that's what God wants. And that's what I want....if I can just get over my fear and hesitation.

Da

When I was about 12 or 13 my father took me to see the Tony-award winning play "Da" by Irish playright Hugh Leonard. The play deals with Charlie's relationships with the two father figures in his life: "Da" (an old-fashioned Irish nickname meaning "Daddy" or "Papa"), his adoptive father, and Drumm, a cynical civil servant who becomes his mentor.

After the play, we went to dinner and I remember ordering jumbo shrimp. I even vaguely remember the dress I wore. I don't know why just the two of us went out for a night on the town, but I think my dad wanted to spend more time one-on-one with his kids and he thought I would like seeing a play. He was right. Being the 4th daughter and an introvert, I always got lost in the shuffle of our large family. So a night out with my dad was something special.

There are other things I remember -- how he gathered us all onto my parents bed and read us poetry. The times he took us hunting for arrowheads....telling us about the wildlife and foliage we saw as we tromped through the woods to get to the next plowed corn-field that was ripe for arrow-head hunting. The nights he took us snowmobiling across the moonlit river bottoms. How he never missed one of our basketball games or swimming meets.

I have enormous respect for my dad. He worked hard to support us. Taught us to love reading. Was (and still is) honest to a fault (if there is such a thing). Showed us how to have compassion for those less fortunate (until recently he served on the board of a homeless shelter, and mentored a young boy from the inner-city). He gives money away like it's water. And when my mother died, he picked himself up from his bone-crushing grief and was determined to get on with his life. He was -- and is -- the rock that our family needed.

I hope I have inherited his integrity, compassion, constancy, faithfulness, and wisdom. I love him very much and am so thankful I have him as a father.

Monster Pig is really a pet named Fred

You may have read about the 11 year old boy who shot and killed a "wild" pig that weighed over a ton and was 9 feet long during a hunting outing with his father. It was in all of the papers because the size of the pig set some kind of record. Anyway, turns out the pig was raised as a pet named "Fred" from the time it was 6 weeks old. Then the owners got tired of it and sold it to a "canned hunting" farm in Alabama. These are places where animals are released into an area enclosed by fences. Hunters then pay money to go and hunt the animals. But the animals can't get away. The hunt isn't fair. It's like cheating.

Fred the pig was shot 4 days after it was released onto the farm. Needless to say, I"m appalled.

Read the Humane Society's story about it here.

Pomp and Circumstance

Nephew #1 (out of 10 nephews) graduated from college a few weeks ago. Then last weekend, Nephew #4 graduated from High School. We sat in a hot gym and listened to the middle school jazz band (with nephew #6 performing) play Pomp and Cirmcumstance. It brought back memories of oh, say....almost 25 years ago. Yikes. I feel old.

What do I wish I had known then, when I was an awkward and self-conscious 18 year old? Well, pretty much everything. I'm sure the graduation speech 25 years ago was fine (I don't even remember who gave it...the principal? who knows), but I'm the type of person who craves knowledge but doesn't really learn something until I live through it. So whatever was said went in one ear and out the other. And isn't that the way it is with most people? An honest gradution speech would be something like, "Whatever I'm going to say to you won't really matter because even if you try to absorb it all, you won't really understand it until 20 years from now when you've lived a little. So I'll just stop now so you can get on with your life."

But, just in case a little advice does work to make life richer or a little easier or more meaningful for the next generation, this is what I want to tell my nieces and nephews.

1. You are loved...by me, but mostly by God. Sometimes you won't feel like you're loved by God, but you are. Even when you don't feel it.
2. Success isn't about how much money you make or how much you achieve, but it's about your character and how you love others.
3. The most interesting people in life usually aren't the best looking or the most wealthy.
4. Giving a bag of clothes to a refugee family is more fulfilling than buying a new couch.
5. Travel, Travel, Travel.
6. Read, Read, Read
7. Beauty isn't about how you look, but how you look at others.
8. Don't end up in a job where you have to sit in a cubicle.
9. Figure out what you love to do, and do it. If you can't figure out what you love, that's okay too. Try a lot of things until you figure it out.
10. Work isn't always fun, but it's fulfilling to work hard and get paid for it. And even when it isn't fun the money will allow you to do the things you love to do.
11. Your work isn't who you are.
12. You achievements aren't who you are.
13. How you look isn't who you are.
14. Take big risks. When you do something that is beyond yourself, it allows God to step in and do the rest. And that's the coolest thing.
15. Exercise. It's good for the soul
16. Surround yourself with people who you admire, who you want to be like, and who love you and love God.
17. Your story will be your own, not your brother's or your sister's or your parents. You're writing a unique story...you're co-authors with God. Don't be jealous or wish you were living someone else's story. When you focus on your own, you'll see how cool and exciting it is.
18. Own a pet. Animals make us more compassionate.
19. When someone's going through a hard time, just sit with them and don't try to fix it.
20. Take naps. I can't really take naps, but David swears by them. I wish I could take more naps. I think I'd be a nicer person if I felt more rested.

So there you have it. Feel free to add your own graduation advice.