Charleston: More non-anxious

Charleston: More non-anxious

“Let's do something surprising. In the midst of anxiety, let us be unafraid. In the time of anger, let us be peaceful. In the heart of turmoil, let us be a steady center. How easy it is to run with the crowd, driven by sound-bytes and rumors, racing to catch the news, chasing hope as if it were running to hide. Let us do something different. Let us be the rallying point for faith, the constant and consistent presence of a love that embodies justice, the quiet truth that knits lives together.” Steven Charleston Daily Facebook Message

My heart aches. I awaken with frequent thoughts about how we can help support and bring refugee families to this country. I see a posting on Facebook from a friend also wondering what we can do. Then I read Charleston’s call to be unafraid and be the steady center, what Gibran tells parents, to be, to remain the steady bow to their children, what family systems tells us to do in a situation, to remain the least anxious presence. I am calm.

Then I remember the news when our borders were closed to immigrants from Syria indefinitely, when people from seven predominately Muslim countries linked to concerns about terrorism were bared entry into our country for 90 days. Refugees on their way to our country were held up at airports. A Syrian teenager was detained at the airport in Little Rock Arkansas!  

This is not my country. I keep remembering that we are a country of refugees except for the native Americans. My daughter-in-law’s father grew up in Syria. If he had not come to this country, we would not have the beautiful family we now have.

 How do I remain a non-anxious presence when I see so many families being harmed, especially the dreamers who registered to be safe and now are at risk for deportation? It is so easy for fear and anxiety to take over. I know there are people who feel differently about this than I, but  my core beliefs are to try to care for those in need, especially strangers, just as I was cared for.

Right now, I know I can write about it, be present to those I personally know who may be in danger, and help to educate myself and others about the issues.

Perhaps I can pray about it. Yes, that is what I would tell others, to pray about it, meditate on it and hope the answer will come.

We are called to on the alert for a just solution that is not made in anger, that will help, not harm.

Joanna  joannaseibert.com

Estes: the Creative Life

 Estes: The Creative Life

“Some say the creative life is in ideas, some say it is in doing. It seems in most instances to be in simply being. It is not virtuosity, although that is very fine in itself. It is the love of something, having so much love for something—whether a person, a word, an image, an idea, the land or humanity—that all that can be done with the overflow is to create. It is not a matter of wanting to, not a singular act of will; one solely must.”

Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Women Who Run With the Wolves, inwardoutward, Daily Words, October 12, 2016.

Suzanne and Laura

In the past two weeks my husband and I have been on a motor trip of over 2500 miles back to towns and farms where I grew up reconnecting to my cousins as well as old childhood friends. I have been reunited with women who loved me no matter what I did.  I have been with friends and family like Liz, Kelly, Janie, Debbie, Laura, Jean, Christine, Betty, Anne, Wanda, and Suzanne who encouraged me to be the person God created me to be, and they still do.

Traveling by car is conducive to long periods of silence and introversion and thinking of people especially women who made an impact on my life. I grew up in a small coastal town in Virginia. There were thirty-three in my high school graduating class. I went to college in North Carolina and eventually decided to study to become a medical technologist. Then the summer before my senior year, I worked in that field and realized I thought I might have the training and education to become a physician as well. In my college graduating class of a thousand women there were only two others who were going to medical school. No women in my family had become doctor. The only female physician I knew was Dr. Shirley Olsson in my small hometown.

I now realize that Dr. Olsson is someone I most admired and unconsciously wanted to become the authentic caring woman and physician she embodied.  She modelled in her everyday living how it is possible for a woman to be a good doctor and still have a family and a fruitful life. By chance I would often run into her at the post office when I was home from medical school.  I believe she is still alive now in her nineties. I did not see her on this visit but will try to make contact soon. I am sure she has no idea how she influenced my life just as I had no idea how she unconsciously formed and shaped decisions in my life. 

What I have learned on this trip is to try to be a little more aware of how I can support others to become the person God created them to be just as Dr. Shirley and Laura and Liz and so many others encouraged, sustained, and stood by me.

Joanna joannaseibert.com

Buechner: A Good Steward of Pain

 Buechner: A Good Steward of Pain

“I am sure there are one hundred and six ways we have of coping with pain. Another way is to be a good steward of it.” Frederick Buechner, A Crazy Holy Grace, Zondervan, p. 21.

Two book clubs in which I am participating have been reading A Crazy Holy Grace, a new collection of some of Frederick Buechner essays about pain and memory. In one story taken from a previous book, The Eyes of the Heart, Buechner writes about a special series of rooms in his home that makes up his sacred space. He describes his writing space, the library, the largest room with ceiling-high shelves of books with the Uncle Wiggily Series, the first editions, the unique objects that are meaningful to him, framed autographs of heroes such as Elizabeth I, sermons of John Donne, inscribed portraits of heroes such as Mark Twain and Anthony Trollope.

In his imagination Buechner then invites people from his past into what he calls his Magic Kingdom. He carries on this loving and humorous conversation with his ninety-four-year-old grandmother, Naya, whom he obviously dearly loves. She describes their relationship as “a marriage made in heaven. I loved to talk and you loved to listen.” Buechner asks her about death. Naya describes it as “stepping off of a streetcar before it has quite come to a stop.”

Buechner has written extensively about his mother who deals with her pain by burying or forgetting about it and his father who deadens his pain with alcohol and finally a tragic suicide when Buechner is ten years old. Buechner seems to have worked through difficulties in those relationships by writing about them. However, he still cannot invite his parents into his sacred space because of fear that they may be too much or too little.

Buechner is modelling for us two ways to allow God to work through our pain from the past. First, we can bring back in our imagination to a sacred space those with whom we feel safe and let them guide us through our pain. Second, when we are not comfortable dialoguing directly with those with whom we had difficulty, we can dialogue with them on paper. God works to heal us in both ways.

Joanna joannaseibert.com