A Public Lynching….Bullets Instead of Rope

At dinner tonight, David asked if I had viewed the latest reports on the news. 

Only a little – is how I responded. 

I haven’t been able to watch a lot of the coverage without bile rising into my throat. A deep grief. A sickening feeling that doesn’t match the hurting of those families. 

David, in response to me, said it best, “It was a public lynching.”

Yes it was. Only it was carried out with a spray of bullets instead of a course rope. 
Evil….disguised as a 21 year old boy, walked into a church, sat among members who were vulnerable and exposed as they prayed to God. The Spirit of God was among them and they showed kindness to a stranger. 
None of the members present seemed alarmed at the marked differences between him and them. They saw an opportunity to love and disciple. 
Evil used the opportunity to separate and bring about a sense of fear.  
Charleston, South Carolina. 
One of my favorite cities. Its nearby town, Folly Beach, the place I love to visit, the place where I visit and dig my toes in the sand. A town with a rich, but dark history of America’s Antebellum time – a time of grandeur, made possible by the toiling hands of men, women and children brought to her harbors in crowded and disease-filled boats. 
A state who still flies the Confederate flag with a sense of Southern “pride”. 
Pride?
Whose pride?
It is a relic of history that deserves space in a museum, in the context of a by-gone era, but not worthy of public display. 
It seems lately that sentiments from generations long since passed, have resurfaced and made the fabric of our democratic society rough, edgy and hard to understand. 
As we look at this young man with his sparse images dotting social media, we see a disconnected, perhaps a coldness that seems other-worldly.
Research has proven that babies in all cultural settings are born with only six emotions hard-wired by the brain. Prejudice and hate are not on that list of six.
Where?
 Where did he learn such contempt for his fellow man? Contempt that drove him to sit among the innocent and open fire?
When did the people closest to him perceive a problem? 
Did they take his “jokes” lightly? 
As if they were deemed appropriate by his audience for the mere fact of his geographical location and the twisted history that lies within its courthouses, jail houses and the minds of some of its residents.  
To assign a mental disorder or diagnosis is only a convenience.
Truth?
The truth is….the actions of this disturbed young man are nothing less than terrorism. 

Not terrorism of religion. Terrorism based on skin color. 
His actions are no different than if ISIS landed on our shores and had taken arms against the people of America. 
Terrorism. Plain and simple. 
So, where was God last Wednesday?
He was moving among those in attendance who were gathered in His name. 
He was pouring out His love on those who were praying for His will…His love….his peace….and His blessing on this country and those around the world.
And at the moment of indescribable violence, He was waiting to usher in the next batch of saints into their eternal home….next to Him. 
See, it was easy for them. 
Their work was done. 
It is much harder for those of us who remain. We must find a way to forgive. We must find a way to seek love instead of revenge. We must find peace through the wounds that are bleeding among our brothers and sisters. 
Let love win. Every. Single. Time. 

Thoughts on a Rainy Weekend

The rain has settled in for the remainder of today. 

My windows are open. There is a rhythmic drip, drip that falls from the gutters. Cars splash through water that has collected along the street. David has found the perfect jazz station to set a reflective tone for the remainder of our day. 

Rainy days at home call for snuggles, hot coffee, dogs by your side and time for reflection. 

My friend Sherrie is not a fan of rainy days. I don’t mind them as much. It seems that with age, I satisfy my soul with a healthy dose of introversion. So a steady rain helps me.   

I won’t lie, Reader. This has been a tough week. 

This time of year is hectic at work and it seems that I can’t find my way above the never-ending list of things to accomplish. I know David has felt the same with projects and deadlines. The week even took its toll on Grace and Anna. They ran in two track meets on Thursday and Saturday. Exhausted – all of us. 

But even with everything going on, God has sprinkled lessons, hope, wisdom and just enough comfort to remind me that He is there and able. All I must do is believe. 

  

On Thursday, I was part of a three person team sent to a local university to represent my school district at an education Job Fair. To be honest, the timing of this little trip was terrible. I had so many things at work that needed my attention and I felt distracted when we first arrived. But as the afternoon progressed and we met with almost 80 students who are just a few weeks from graduating, I felt caught up in their excitement for the opportunity to be part of the community of educators. They didn’t bemoan and complain about the high stakes accountability for teachers based on students’ test scores; nor did they talk about the frustrations when parents refuse to take responsibility for their children and want to blame the schools; I never heard one of these young people feel defeated by a public perception that public educators are failing or that people discount how hard we work. 

I heard none of that. Instead, I heard enthusiasm and a determination to make a difference in the life of a child, no matter what. They didn’t ask about salaries and benefits. They asked about opportunity and the chance to leave a mark on someone’s life. 

Suddenly, I was transported back to 1993 when I too was a giddy, idealistic 22 year old, ready to set a blazing trail of knowledge in every class I taught. Yes, our work is hard. Yes, it takes everything out of me from time to time. But it is good work. It is necessary work. 

That same evening, David and I watched Grace and Anna as they competed in a county-wide track and field meet.  These two creatures, who are the very reasons I am a mom, amazed and astounded me with the grit and determination they brought to the track that night. One picture that David captured of Grace, shows a fierceness and perseverance to complete the race before her – no matter what. I couldn’t have been more proud of them at that competition and the one they found themselves in on Saturday. They amaze and humble me. Being their mom has made me a better person. 

While sitting in the stands at CAK yesterday, we struck up a conversation with a couple whose son was running for Bearden H.S. Track team. David and I had watched this young man’s performance, speed and agility with awe all afternoon. Our conversation with Mr and Mrs Foster was special, to say the least. They have been married for 26 years, have two sons who not only are successful in sports but academically as well. They both had an infectious laughter and ease between them as a couple – down to earth. I thought of them later as David and I ate dinner. Odds are, we will never cross paths again. But their love story and friendship was so encouraging to us – the 6 month newlyweds. 

  

While our newlywed love story received some encouragement yesterday,  earlier in the week, a childhood friend of mine announced that she and her husband had made the painful decision to divorce. 

My heart immediately broke for her and her family. She was courageous and announced their decision publicaly on Facebook so as to avoid other people’s careless assumptions about their private life. 

Many years ago, I didn’t have that kind of courage. As a result, my private life was chewed up into little pieces and  spit back at me by small town gossip. That is hard to recover from. What I dread for my friend is the inevitable awkwardness that will accompany this break-up. Friends and family members won’t want to take sides and yet they will. Conversations and interactions – even simple mannerly greetings will be awkward. Some people will have the maturity and courage to do what is right in their treatment of you – others will not. 

I used to take such treatments personally. Age and experience have taught me that such encounters are a reflection of the other person and not me. Case in point: Yesterday  at the track meet, David and I were completely ignored by a couple that mean the world  to us. Completely. We both tried to get their attention to say “Hello”, but our efforts were ignored I’m sure it was directly related to who they were sitting with. But it was so obvious, even my daughters noticed. This observation elicited a barrage of questions as to why they would so blatantly ignore us in public. I could not give them an answer that would satisfy or help them to understand all of the complexities of the situation.  I sat there and tried to imagine any possible scenario where David or I would purposefully ignore them and to be honest, I couldn’t think of one. I reminded myself that this was a reflection of them and not of us. 

I later discovered that one of those people had sent me a text saying they weren’t trying to offend anyone – it was just an awkward situation. I chose not to respond but ponder and acknowledge the hurt I felt. The situation has been awkward for a number of years but this was the first time we were ignored entirely. Offended? No. Hurt? Without a doubt. 

 

Mostly today, I am reflective and grateful for the simple things I do have that make my life colorful and more wonderful than I feel I deserve. 

Today, I am thankful that I married my best friend – he always has my back, his love is deeper than any ocean, he makes me laugh and I feel safe in his hugs. 

Today I am amazed at my two daughters who show me more about life than I could ponder alone. 

Today, I am grateful for friends and family who are simply the best at making me laugh and encouraging me to be better than I thought possible. 

Today, on this rainy Sunday, it is good to be alive. 

Be blessed…..

One Last Time….For Now

Well Reader…..here we go, one last time as we have known it.

Since Jan 2009, I have opined and reflected on the mysteries of life and love in an open, public blogging forum either as “Twisted Elf” or “Elfinfun”. During this time, I have enjoyed expressing myself through writing and many of you have indicated that in some way, big or small, my words have been a source of inspiration. I am humbled….

However, since my uncle’s death last July, I have failed to produce or write anything that I felt worthy of uploading for the “World Wide Web” to read. Oh, it’s not that I didn’t try; there were many times that I opened my laptop with the intent of producing an essay with some sort of pithy insight into this life we all find ourselves working through.

But, every single time I sat down and stared at the screen and blinking cursor, I couldn’t type. The reason? Well, in all honesty, I had nothing to say. It was more than writer’s block. That wasn’t it. No, I just had nothing to say. After a couple of months, I stopped trying to write a post. I stopped trying to force myself to reflect and then spew forth the wisdom I thought I had gained. Instead, I took a look at the landscape of my life and inside my heart to search for the answers as to why I had stopped posting on “Bent, Not Broken”.

After all of these months, I have found my answers.

For the past five, almost six years,I have been on a very personal journey and I invited all of you to join me. I’m not sure if that was a very wise decision, but I made it anyway. More often than not, the stories I have written over the years were done so for my benefit, even if I didn’t recognize it at the time.

This journey of mine has been filled with public disgrace, failure, redemption, forgiveness, loss, discovery, struggle, success, and glimpses of love. I have grown professionally and personally along the way, but in some respects, it has come at a great cost.
My actions have hurt others and I have been hurt by the action of others. I regret those hurts I have caused, more than anyone could possibly understand. As painful as it was to be hurt by the words/actions of others in my life, I can’t say I ever regret having those experiences. The brokenness I experienced, allowed the light to get in.

In these years, I have learned…

….the power of forgiveness from both ends of the spectrum – as one who needed forgiveness and as one who needed to forgive in order to move forward.
….life is short and we need to get busy living.
….there are two sides to every story.
….I have not been given permission by God to judge anyone, neither have you.
….people are fickle and you can’t be offended by that. Some friends can live with you through your mistakes; some cannot. It is best to sort those individuals out early on, and then get busy moving on.
….divorce is not necessarily an indication of failure; sometimes it is the way in which two people can learn to become better people – alone.
….when someone shows you who they are the first time – believe them. A leopard never changes his spots.
….change is sometimes necessary for growth. It is scary, though.
….setting clear, defined boundaries in your life is a healthy way to live. You owe no one an apology or explanation for those boundaries. You do it because they are right for you. Period.
…..real, true, gritty friendships are the best gifts in the whole wide world – Kate, Karen, Ruthie, Amanda, Ashley
…..when you least expect it, you will meet someone who knows your history and will love you anyway.
….you must be careful who you tell your story to. If you tell it to the wrong people, it becomes part of your debris field.
….there is no shame in having a personal therapist. I love having a third party person to bounce things off of and help me to see things with greater clarity.
….being vulnerable is indicative of being real.
….prejudice/bigotry is a learned behavior. There are people all over the world who don’t live like me, believe like me, or look like me and yet have taught me more about living life and what it means to be human.
….kindness never goes out of style.
….I don’t have to know God’s plan. I just have to trust that He is in charge. That is enough for me.

There have been so many “A-HA” moments over the years and so much of who I am has changed – for the better. There are still things I am working on and probably will for quite some time.

These days, my life is so full and complete and some of that has kept me away from writing on my blog. My girls keep me busy….being a school administrator and professor rounds me out professionally…I am writing my first fictional novel…I am formulating a new relationship that is loving, respectful, kind, normal and healthy. I have travel destinations to explore and moments to capture with words and photos. I am making plans today that will lead me to a beachside cottage in the future.
Most importantly, I think the reason I stopped writing is because I have come to a place of peace. I have made peace with my past, who I am, and the possibilities for what my life can be in the future.

My blog as “Elfinfun” cannot exist as it has in the past.
“Bent, Not Broken” is who I am today. I don’t know what my blog will look like after writing this piece. I am still trying to find my “new” voice. I promise that when I do, I will invite you to come along on whatever fantastic journey I decide to embark upon. I hope you will join me.

Live well, Reader.

The Beauty of Scars

There comes a point with most people when it becomes helpful, if not necessary, to take inventory of the life we have lived. A review of where we have come from and the choices we have made is helpful in seeing how we have reached where we stand today. This inventory is crucial in determining the path we will take for our future.

As we age, I think we gain a better perspective on certain phases in our life that once caused us great pain. I know in my own life, I have a better sense of what mercy, grace, and forgiveness look like and the importance it plays to my peace and the peace of others. Further, I can look back at my choices and see the pivotal role they have played in who I have become and where I find myself on this life’s journey. While difficult to look upon, I see their value. Forgiving myself has proven to be more of a challenge than forgiving others. But in doing so, I have found the beauty that comes from these moments; beauty that reminds me of the greatness of my God.

To drive this point home, I would like to share with you the lyrics from the song “Heal the Wound” by the Contemporary Christian group, Point of Grace. Take time to read through these lyrics and drink them in like a fine, aged wine. Let the power of God’s greatness infuse your spirit and further enrich your life’s journey.

“Heal the Wound”

I used to wish that I could rewrite history
I used to dream that each mistake could be erased
Then I could just pretend
I never knew the me back then.

I used to pray that You would take this shame away
Hide all the evidence of who I’ve been
But it’s the memory of the place You brought me from
That keeps me on my knees and even though I’m free

Heal the Wound but leave the scar
A reminder of how merciful You are
I am broken, torn apart
Take the pieces of my heart
And heal the wound but leave the scar

I have not lived a life that boasts of anything
I don’t take pride in what I bring
But I’ll build an altar with the rubble that You found me in
And every stone will sing of what You can redeem

Heal the Wound but leave the scar
A reminder of how merciful You are
I am broken, torn apart
Take the pieces of my heart
And heal the wound but leave the scar

Don’t let me forget
Everything You’ve done for me
Don’t let me forget
The beauty in the suffering

Reader, grow in the knowledge that our past has placed you in this precise moment in time…Be assured that the thing that God has started in you, will not be forsaken…Have hope in the future that God is laying out to bring you to in His perfect time…

I leave you with this thought:
“Some people see scars and it is wounding they remember. To me, they are proof of the fact that there is healing.” ~ Linda Hogan

Live well Reader…