The Reason for the Season

I spent Monday evening with my bible study girlfriends and our kids filling shoe boxes with goodies for the homeless at the Open Door Mission (hats, gloves, socks, toothpaste, etc.). I spent Tuesday night with the kids at Cub Scouts as they filled plates with cookies for local families in need -- four dozen of which the hubby baked himself. (Thank you!) And I spent last night with my church girlfriends (a.k.a. the Kismet girls) enjoying one another's company over dinner. It was a nice, quiet, fun-filled evening in the midst of the snow covered Christmas rush.

This morning I was thinking about the holiday season and how people across the faith spectrum rally together to make the world a bit brighter for each other and for those in need. While I recognize that there are people of all backgrounds and faith traditions who devote their lives to helping others, I also recognize that Christmas often brings out the best in those of us (e.g., me!) who need a little more prompting. It's the time of year when non-believers and believers alike will give a bit more of themselves than they do throughout the year. When churches are SRO. When people go out of their way to share a little token of their appreciation with others. When we deck the halls with boughs of holly and share a glass of wine with our neighbors. (Mind you, the latter half of that sentence is a nightly common ritual in our neighborhood regardless of season.)

During any other time of the year, you can tell most people that you're a devout Buddhist and they'll think it's cool because we're trained from a young age to welcome, nay embrace, all religions (as we should). On the same token, at any other time of the year, you can tell most people that you're a devout Christian and they'll think you're a simpleton that needs a crutch. Born again Jesus freak. So I ask, why the double standard?

At this time of year, however, we can say "Merry Christmas" to others and it's not considered offensive. Is it because the holiday is sanitized? Because it's associated with Santa and gift giving and not with Christ? Our savior?

I wish that radical acceptance of people's beliefs, regardless of faith or sect, would be widespread year round. And I wish that radical change of my own behavior, my desire to give more to the world and dedicate my life to God, would be my driving force year round and not just on the occasional night out in December.

I want the spirit of the season to fill my very being every day of my life.

Doubt within Doubt

Whenever I'm in the waiting room at the doctor, I pick up O magazine and search for any article written by Kelly Corrigan. Her writing style and interesting family anecdotes always engage me.

In this piece picked up by CNN, she discusses her parents' faith alongside her doubts. Inasmuch as genuine faith cannot really be understood by outsiders, it's really easy for nonbelievers to claim that faith and reason (or logic) are mutually exclusive. At least it was for me. Close book. End of story. It took a perfect storm of personal experiences, coupled with sermons from a hyper-intellectual pastor, for me to grasp that intelligence and faith can co-exist. (Or maybe I'm just telling myself that to make myself feel better!) However difficult it may be at times, I'm glad that my faith journey continues.

Given all of my initial concerns about a relationship with God, I haven't yet been asked to travel on the short bus singing Kumbaya. Nor has God prompted me to give up everything and serve in a mission in Kenya. Neither seem likely at this time but as Romeo Void once sang, "Never say never." I'm open to anything.

Maybe I'm reading between the lines too much in the aforementioned article but, to me, it sounds like Kelly is embarking on a faith journey of her own. While intellectually she may be where I was years ago on this topic, spiritually she appears to be much more open minded than I ever was.

"Regardless of where I am on the spectrum from atheism to theism, I'd rather my girls be grounded in something, even something that seems too good or crazy to be true. This is why, when the girls ask me about God, I say that people believe all kinds of things and no one really knows, including me, but that I hope."

But that I hope . . .

I hope that she finds what she's looking for.

"From there you will seek the LORD your God, and you will find Him if you seek Him with all your heart and with all your soul." (Deuteronomy 4:29)

Joseph Revisited

Today, my church began a series on Joseph -- one of many stories in the Bible that I love. As my pastor was talking about different obstacles that can trip us up (e.g., from sexual indiscretion to imprisonment), he stated that oftentimes difficulties arise from taking misguided advice from people we trust. Not that they're purposefully trying to steer us in the wrong direction necessarily but they have their world views, inherent fears and vantage points, as well.

It occurred to me that I suffer most from my own internal critic. My entire life I have been surrounded by parents and friends who told me that I could accomplish anything that I wanted. I was raised in a middle class family, went to good schools, traveled a fair amount as a child and didn't lack anything. Unlike Joseph, I've basically been handed everything in life and yet still I struggle. Is this the inevitable outcome of a privileged life?

Am I doing what I'm supposed to be doing? Am I where I'm supposed to be? I haven't had a burning bush, a vision, a dream or an audible voice steering me in the right direction but there have been times when I've been awash in the pure awareness and confidence that God is present and taking care of me. Now is not one of those times.

Lately, I struggle with feeling overlooked. While I know without a shadow of a doubt that this thought cannot be true, I still take colossal amounts of time to feel sorry for myself. I try to remind myself that I am abundantly blessed. I have a job that pays well, a great family, my health and am surrounded by people who love me. But I still go back to, "Is this it?" or is there a greater plan for me? Then I'll read a book about the Holocaust and feel so unbelievably self-absorbed. I have soooo much -- why am I grousing?

Last Wednesday, I went to a funeral for the mother of one of my bible study girlfriends. During the eulogy, Kim talked about how her mom never once complained. Even when her health was failing and they couldn't figure out what was wrong, she kept repeating, "God has been good to me." As I headed back to the office after the service, I stopped for a few minutes in Durand Eastman Park to watch the waves roll in and pray.

Please let me, who has so much, be thankful for all of my blessings. And help me to firmly believe, and rest in the fact that, God cares so much about me that he knows every possible thought, dream and desire of my soul.

"Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows." Luke 12:7

Hold on to that Feelin'

From my co-worker Scott who is leaving me for greener pastures . . .



(Taken on his cell phone in the Park Ave. neighborhood.)

Blasphemous Rumours

I spent Friday night and Saturday at a church-sponsored prayer retreat on Canandaigua Lake. And it was fun. FUN. Yes, you read that right. Who knew? As Depeche Mode contends, does God have a sick sense of humor?

There were times when I was laughing so hard, with people I had only met that day, that the tears were rolling down my face. There were other moments spent in candlelit, guided meditation when God was so close that I felt he was hugging me.

And there was time spent in the sunshine just sitting on the dock with a close friend.

We had a bonfire on Friday night and watched the lightening light up the sky. (A Friday night without wine I may add!) And first thing on Saturday morning, after a walk along the road admiring all of the beautiful lake-front cottages, I forced myself into the water. It was ice cold and took my breath away. But I stayed in and swam for a while simply because I could. And I floated for minutes afterward letting the water support me.

Later that morning, in a "how befitting" fashion, our group meditation was on how Peter walked on water toward Jesus and then, when he turned his attention instead toward the wind and the waves and became fearful, he began to sink. Jesus held him until they reached the boat and said, "O ye of little faith." Until then, I had always thought that phrase was condemning. I now see how it was said in love and tenderness. Jesus didn't calm the storm; he just fully supported him in his walk. It was up to Peter to take the chance and step out -- something many of us aren't willing to do. Sure, he couldn't sustain his faith 100% of the time but he still knew who to call out to when he was failing.