Suck It Up And Let's Stop It

Life is filled with moments. I know, I know, I've said it before. But, it's true. Daily, we are living those life moments as the clock ticks on. Maybe you've read a blog, something online, skimmed a book, watched a series on television, or listened to a lecture on life moments that help to form who we are.  In fact, I can almost guarantee that you've heard/read/seen/listened to this type of "the moments of your life" stuff before.  I'm not the first person to write about it.  Do you know why?  Because we all have MOMENTS.  Whether we have the avenue or ability to share with others or not, our moments in life account for something.  So, if you're thinking this post might be about something you've read before, you're probably right.  Except for one small factor....I'm writing it.  Maybe you could say, "that sounds like an article I read last week" or "Man, I could've written those words".  But, that's only true in that it sounds similar and familiar.  My life and my moments are my own and your life and your moments are your own.

The inspiration for writing this came from a few recent meetings I had.  As I listened in those meetings,  I was reminded that life is ugly sometimes.  No, not that people are ugly, but the experiences that we have with other people can leave us with ugly, pain, and abuse (you put in your choice words). That ugliness can linger and overshadow our moments. Now, I'd like to say something regarding that last sentence...we live in a "suck it up" society, but we don't have to do that.  When ugliness enters our life, sometimes all that's keeping us alive is the air that God is putting into our lungs and the routine of life that keeps us getting up in the morning.  "Suck it up" is rarely appropriate in true, pain-filled life moments. I believe that the "suck it up" saying and implication started sometime and somewhere long ago. And I'm not to say how or why it was originally used, but I'm almost positive that it stemmed somewhere from a lack of empathy. Perhaps it was a situation where a person didn't know what to say to another's pain or vulnerability.  So, "suck it up" was the easiest way to shut down the pain in that moment. Thus, it became a living, breathing part of acceptable speech in our society.  But is it?

Ugliness, pain, cheating, lying (again, you put in your choice words) damages something in our heart and in our person.  They're not just words that can be erased by an eraser (for you younger ones: an eraser is on the end of an implement called a pencil.  It is commonly pink.  If you're still unsure of what it is, ask someone born in the mid-90's or earlier).  Ugliness, pain, cheating, and lying aren't just words.  They're actions.  They're actions that enter our lives that are sometimes out of our control and almost definitely NOT desired. Come on, no one says, "I hope that my co-worker secretly starts dating my spouse". Being out of control of painful situations leaves a deeps sense of abandonment, rejection, anger, sadness......

So, what and why am I writing all of this?  I'd like to say to the world, er, uh....okay, REALISTICALLY, myself and my six readers: Let's stop it!  No, not the pain, ugliness, and lying. Remember, we went over that part.  "Suck it up" isn't the same as "let's stop it".  We are surrounded by hurting, sad, and maybe grieving fellow humans.  And it's okay for them to be sad in their moments of ugliness. Now, I don't mean a pity-party or living in a constant state of entitlement (I'll save entitlement for a future post).  But, real pain and another's personal ugly situation is real to each individual person.  No two situations are the same.  That doesn't mean we have to know the right thing to say to a fellow human experiencing big, undesired pain.  It just means we have to try.  Sometimes the right thing to do is to say nothing at all and just be present.  I think we've lived behind the smoke screen of "suck it up" for far too long.  And, I have to be honest in that I have to examine my own life, too.  Don't we hide our secret pain?  Sometimes when others are experiencing a deep pain, result of abuse, lying, cheating, etc., it can touch on that thing that we tried to suck up so long ago.  Maybe those words are used because someone said it during our own ugly situation....So, no matter where you are in experiencing painful actions that resulted in ugliness in your life, it's ok to be the helper or the helpee. Those of us that see someone hurting, try to put yourself in their shoes.  And those of you who are hurting, tell someone; reach out. (I think) We've all been doing too much of holding and focusing on our technology versus holding onto those hurting and focusing on their needs.

"Two are better off than one, in that their cooperative efforts yield this advantage: If one falls down, his friend can help him up.  But how tragic it is for the one who is (all) alone when he falls. There is no one to help him get up." Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

One day the sun will shine again in that person's heart and that pain will look different, not necessarily gone, but different. But before that day comes, no matter how long it takes, they must travel down the road of ugliness and pain. Maybe you'll be there to witness the whole process, but maybe not.  But we cannot ignore the road and the process of getting to that next stage.  We just have to be there in the moment that we have with that person and not dislike the pain and ugliness and try to hurry them up to the "sun will shine again" moment.  Let's stop that.  Let's be vulnerable and open.  That might be scary to many.  It might mean stepping out from behind the smoke screen we've put over our hearts and the technology that we can so easily hide behind.  We have to step off of our island and out of our box, figuratively speaking.  And, when you do so, you just might surprise yourself.  Your own road to healing, helping, and forgiveness might come when you travel down someone else's road with them. 

Relativity of Decision

This past week I was invited to hear a man from Africa speak about his life.  His name is Lazare. He was born and raised in such a remote place in Congo that there was, and still is, no electricity (i.e. no technology or reason for it or way to even bring there), no type of plumbing, and no running water.  There were no schools or stores or any medical facilities. His life and the life of his tribe were surrounded by war and felt the immediate affects of it.  He lived among children who had to raise themselves, due to being orphaned by the war.  It was a dark, grim, and fearful place and way to live. Even to travel there, one would have to take a helicopter or travel for many, many days by vehicle.

As he shared that information, I began to think about how that way of life would affect him on a daily basis.  His reality is so different than mine.  He didn't select to be born there, but he was and it is his life.  He didn't get to choose it.  He was only able to respond to it.  And, even though he didn't choose all those above factors, He did have one area of choice: he was able to make decisions for his life (within his culture and tribe). Despite all of my and Lazare's vast contrasts, as it relates to the relativity of decision making, I began to realize that we weren't so different.

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No matter who we are or where we are from, our lives are formed by a constant process of decision making.  Daily we choose.  We make physical decisions: should I exercise today?  We make emotional decisions: am I going to stay mad at that person...they really DO deserve it?  We make mental/psychological decisions: is reading this literature going to affect my outlook on life in a negative way?  We make spiritual decisions: is there a God and who is He, do I need to find out? Then, of course, there are the decisions that are completely out of our control.  Those also have a big test on us, as we have a responsibility to respond (a decision) in a way that represents us, challenges our character and integrity, and will influence for positive decisions in the future. 

Moreover, everything we do is a decision.  Even if our day is going seemingly "normal", that normality still involves decisions.  Some of those decisions will only affect us in the moment. For instance, choosing ice tea over lemonade at lunch is most likely not going to change the course of your life (unless there's something you know about lemonade that I don't.  If so, please share.). If I flashback to when I was a small child, when having to decide if I wanted to have a Nerds Blizzard or Cherry-Dipped Cone from Dairy Queen seemed like the biggest decision of my life (which it wasn't), it still was MY decision and I got to choose it.

Even a decision of HOW we think affects us.  Our minds are constantly working.  We are inundated with a barrage of information that requires us to filter what we deem as important or not important.  We can react instantly or spontaneously to new information or we can mull it over and over (and over) until we reach a reasonable or peace-filled decision.  But because decisions are relative to individual situations and moments in time, respectively, our reaction may be ever-changing.

As difficult as it is, one of the many hard moments comes when we have to decide how to respond when another's decision affects our life. They're not the type that we would necessarily pick for ourselves; great, deceitful, loyal, bad, honest, disrespectful or ugly ones. Because we have a feeling of ownership for our own life and our own decisions, when we are caught in the web of another's' choice, good or bad, the outcome can seem as if it's in violation of our life ownership. I have injured people by judgments I've made and words I've said.  I cannot take those back, I can only ask for forgiveness and reconcile what I've done.  Certain moments like that happen.  But therein lies another decision...what actions can/should/will I take next time? 

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Lazare paused after he shared about how war has ravaged his country.  He didn't talk about it for very long, only a few moments. He leaned forward, capturing the attention of all those in attendance.  He then shared a decision he had made.  He had decided at some point to stop talking of the details of the wars, as they were ugly and promoted that ugly.  He humbly and genuinely said that he wanted to focus on rebuilding community and care for people.  He spoke of purpose and value of all people.  His vision was to bring education into the remote area.  He had vision and faith.  He didn't have workers or money or supplies, or EVEN ways to get supplies.  There was no electricity.  There were no building materials.  There was nothing.  But he still had a vision and he spoke about it and told the people of his tribe and surrounding area what his vision was.

He said, "I am because we are".

 

This man's vision changed people. Every person that he met, he told them what he was going to do.  I don't even understand it all because I am so far removed from Congo, but I do understand having to make a choice in the most impossible circumstance.  As Lazare continued, all those in attendance marveled as he described how the miracle of his vision unfolded.  He would invite all people he came in contact with to come and see what his vision was, and, they came.  People donated time, love, work, service, support, friendship, supplies, and community.  And while there is still no electricity, there is a school and a THRIVING university there.  As he describes, in the middle of no where, it is still a place of beauty and re-built hope.

I couldn't help but be in awe as I listened to this man speak of a true miracle that all started by making a decision. He made a decision to promote people and not the destruction.  He had faith, he prayed, and his decision of faith affected (is still affecting) all who he comes in contact with.  His vision isn't for himself, but for future generations to have an opportunity to not repeat the ugliness of the past and to pave a way for the bright hope for tomorrow. 

As most inspirational moments do, this one was caused me to analyze all my present decisions.  Just like Lazare, I cannot change my past.  It is gone, it already happened.  I cannot change it.  But, what I can do is think about my present life and choices.  Whatever I am choosing for my life, whether it is conscious or not, is affecting my life and future generations.  Nothing about my life will magically change if I keep doing the same things I'm doing right now.  I am guilty of taking time to analyze decisions that are healthy for me and others that I eventually "put on the back burner" to re-evaluate at a later time. Soooo, basically I just allow those decisions to stay on the back burner and I live in a state of neutrality. I know that sometimes that is necessary, but it's a hindrance to my future when I stay there indefinitely.

I can't help but think that sometimes I stay in a state of "living on the back burner" as I wait for what is next.  Instead of making a decision that is filled with vision, I decide to wait (I'm not talking about waiting when it's healthy or the right decision).  But, again nothing about my life will magically change if I keep doing the same thing I'm doing and expect a different result.  I am really saying all this for myself, but in the big picture of life, making vision-filled decisions really relates to all of us (because we're all in this together). 

So, what to do? Because decision making does shape my life, success, faith, strength, and hope, those things will only come when I value my life and the lives of others (not when I base my decisions on what anyone else is doing).  It takes a gulp of humility to analyze the place of neutrality.  And, it takes an even bigger gulp of bravery to step away from the decision (or indecision) that been holding me/you there.  I can't help but think that we all have a little bit of Lazare in us, we all have vision.  We all have value.  We all have gifts within our person that can affect change. It just takes us making a decision to do so. 

So, as I challenge myself, I also offer the challenge to you: as it is relative to your own personal life, are the decisions you're making promoting vision?  Or are they on the back burner?  Why not today be the day to make a decision to step away from that hindrance or neutrality?  Why not today be the day to make a choice to add value for your life by inspiring vision, within you and toward others.  Each of us is unique. We all have something to give.  And no one can make the decision except you.

The Primary School in Eastern Congo.  It opened in Sept. 2014.

Photo credit belongs to http://www.ueemi.org

Juxtaposition

I uncrossed my legs and got up off the couch.  I set my half-full tea cup down on the kitchen counter and went into the bathroom to take out my contacts.  Upon finishing, I walked into my bedroom.  Without turning on the light in the bedroom, I walked over and I felt around on the top of nightstand for my glasses.  I then remembered they were exactly where I had taken them off this morning.  They were on the kitchen table.  Before leaving, I bend over and grabbed my laptop from its storage place.  Reaching the kitchen, I placed the laptop on the table and placed my glasses on.  I turned on the stove to heat water for my, now, lukewarm beverage. After re-filling my tea cup, I powered up my laptop and pulled up my blog.  I opened a new document and began to type.  That is what you are reading now.

So, here I am.  My last post on this blog was after re-entry into the U.S. from Israel. The experience of re-entry has been one like getting your first tire blow-out on the freeway at 60 mph.  No one expects or plans a tire-blow out.  No one wants one (at least no one that I know of).  It is a surprising and shocking experience and your brain and reflexes have to remember what to do.  Brake or not, use the gas or not?  What am I supposed to do?  Who do you call for help?  Do you replace the tire like normal?  

I don't claim to be some poet who lived in the mountains for the past 16 years.  I didn't sell all that I own to move to a country that most people have never heard of to help with a grossly, inadequately-staffed orphanage.  I am not a highly trained, undercover, special-operations military person who has been on 19 life-saving missions.  I just decided to write a blog about my experiences and I like to call those experiences "my life".  I cannot compare "my life" to the poet in the mountains or the brave person who helps with that orphanage.  I can only compare it to my own life and all the moments as I live them.  All those moments have shaped me as a person.  Some I will not and cannot share, some I proudly and openly share, and some moments were surprising, unexpected and they entered my life in a way that only surprising and unexpected moments can.

It was just as foreign to move to Israel as it was to move back to the U.S.  I cannot say that the experience would be like that for everyone, but it was for me.  Living in Israel was a whole person involvement: emotionally, spiritually, physically and mentally.  Preparing for, moving to, and living there is an entire moment of reality in my life.  But in it, is little and miniscule moments that make up that whole. When I packed up to come back to the states, including my whole emotional, spiritual, physical and mental moments of reality I had just been apart of, I got on the plane to fly back to the only home I had ever know, the U.S.  As I stated in the allegory above, re-entry was like getting a tire blow-out on the freeway at 60 mph.  It wasn't smooth, comfortable, or nor did I like it.

You see, I didn't realize that my life and what I saw and experienced would change my perspectives on so many things.  How can a civilian, who lives in a warzone (for however long or short it is), not be a changed person?  I'm not trying to be poetic.  Definitely not.  It's just the truth.  There were many other life-changing events that happened while I lived in Israel, but none changed me as much as living in that warzone.  I learned as it was all unfolding before me; what a siren sounds like, what the faces look like while sitting in a bomb shelter, what the adrenaline feels like as rockets were intercepted overhead or when they hit the ground a mile from that bomb shelter.  I cannot describe all that went on in that learning. I don't know what exactly changed me, I just know "it" did.  So, with that comes the juxtaposition.

In great moments of reality that shift our perspective, we have (are compelled, forced) to compare our past and our present.  We are compelled to compare what we used to know and what we now know (or usually what we THINK we know.  I'm mostly referring to myself, here).  You may be wondering why I didn't include the future.  Well, we don't get to compare our future perspective.  We can plan for tomorrow and all of the tomorrows after that, but we really don't  know beyond each breath.  So, back to the past and present....I stepped off the plane in the U.S. and began to realize HOW my perspective had changed.  I didn't see or view all aspects of life the way I had before.  And that was just plain hard.  I could try all day long to try to describe to any person what my experience was like living in the Middle East, but even with the best explanation, it's not the same as living it.

I say all this because coming back home to the U.S. has felt like coming to a crossroad.  That crossroad mostly involves my personal perspectives and views; how drastically different the countries and cultures are from the U.S. and the Middle East, what it's like to stare the possibility of death in the face and how that forever changes the perspective on what really matters in life.  It has taken time to re-adjust and filter all the past and present moments of reality in (my) life. 

When we meet a crossroad in life, we all have a choice.  We can keep doing what we've always done or thought or we can take that challenge of the crossroad, the juxtaposition, and see where it takes us.  Even if we don't get a choice about taking the crossroad (i.e. something out of our control or an unexpected change) we still get a choice about our attitude as we meet that crossroad.  As we transition at the juxtaposition, crossroad, it's often not easy.  It's often not easy because we don't really know what is coming next.  We only have our past and present perspectives to take with us at that crossroad. 

As I began to travel down the "crossroad", it has been a time of discovery for me.  Most of this discovery has been strange, and I'd like to admit honestly, I have not been "enjoying this moment, for this moment is my life".....but as the horizon becomes more clear, my attitude has been shifting.  As that shift has been happening, I've had to throw out some of my old perspectives.

Through this juxtaposition, crossroad, and time of discovery, I've done a lot of thinking, praying, walking, pondering, and analyzing.  For there to be a lasting perspective change, I have to change.  The first place to start (and always focus on) is yielding to the change in me.  'Cause if I don't, there won't be no change!  Now, with this, I unfortunately can't see what will happen tomorrow.  Change takes time and only later will I be able to look back and see that change.  Until then, everyday that I've been gifted is filled with little crossroads, some easy and some hard. 

So while re-entry hasn't been a smooth ride, I am trying to embrace the transition from one perspective to the next.  HOW my perspective has changed has presented me with new outlooks and viewpoints that definitely aren't very "popular".  But change isn't always very popular, is it?

 

home

As I am typing these words, I am standing the exact same location as when I wrote my first blog entry.  I am standing in the same apartment in the same spot.  I look around my meager little apartment and nothing has changed since I left it six months ago (Well, besides the house plants.  They will need some t.l.c. to return to their once glory.).  Everything is exactly as I left it.  Now, as I stand here, the only thing that has changed is me.  I apologize for being so Shakespeare-ish, but nothing could've prepared me for what was ahead and nothing can bring me back to the girl that stood in this spot six months ago.  The mystery of adventure and unknown has a way of doing that. 

Since my last entry (only!) six days ago, I said all my "until next time" hugs and got ready to transition from one way of life to another.  It seems like a whirlwind of activity that took place and I cannot believe that I even had any time to sleep in between.  Although I know they won't be the last "until next time" hugs, the closing of one chapter in life produces lots of pensive thinking.  While trying to enjoy every minute of the last few day with those who have become my "adopted" family and friends, the heart knows to ache for the ending of something so indescribable.  It is indescribable for many reasons, but I will not get ahead of myself.

To end the last days of my adventure in Israel, I was thankful (yet, pensive for the ending...) for some great moments.  Those great moments left a sweet savor in my mind.  From a "Goodbye Celebration" Party, the beach at sunset at Caesarea, going up to Rosh Hanikra, going down to Tel Dor, eating my last shawarma and devouring all the fresh passion fruit and mango my tummy could handle, the ending of the adventure proved full.  All of that last bit of adventure was an overload to me, but I am glad for experiencing it.  Those last days held the "last" of many things.

Goodbye Celebration Party

A peek into what a car ride looks like with eight passengers in a small Israeli vehicle!

 Tel Dor

The view from Rosh Hanikra looking South down the Israeli coast.  Rosh Hanikra is the Northern most point before Lebanon.

The beach and aqueduct at Caesarea 

 

When I woke up on the morning of my departure, I rolled over and looked out the window. Yep, it was sunny again.  Just like every other day I lived there.  Sunny. Always sunny.  I never had to wonder what the weather was going to be like.  I looked at my suitcases laying on the ground and thought about what this day held and what it meant.  In life, anyone can give you advice on what to do or not what to do.  They can tell you about what an experience is going to be like, why to try something, why you should give a person a second chance, why it's a good idea to save your money, and why not to wear a spandex romper.  Opinions of others can give us insight and direction for a positive or negative way to think or live.  But NOTHING can prepare us for the moment when we experience whatever "it" is for ourselves. 

The life adventure I had in Israel made Israel a new home for me.  I cannot describe it in words, but it did.  A home is where you feel safe and welcome.  Home is where you feel accepted and you can let your guard down.  Home is where people like you.  Israel will forever be a home to me.  The memories, friendships, and lessons I learned there have made it that way.  I learned to love a people, their customs and culture as if they were my own.  My heart beat with all the fellow Israeli's when terrorism threatened our lives.  I mourned and grieved the loss of the innocent during Operation Protective Edge.  I will never forget the sound of the Code Red Siren, feeling the power of rocket and Iron Dome explosions, and running for my life to a real bomb shelter.  How can this make it my home, you may ask?  Well, here is a question for you: How can it not?  I grew in grace for others and had to face areas of my own selfishness.  I fell in love with people who I look at as if they were my own flesh and blood.  Daily, I as I taught, I watched four children grow in their love for learning.  I saw them gain confidence and value (and awesome cursive skills).  The sweet savor of experiences made an unlikely and unique adventure feel like home.  Israel will always be my "other home", as it is filled with family, friends, loved ones, strangers, foods, and customs that I can proudly say I love.  That is the best I can do when trying to describe the indescribable.

When I got on the plane to leave for my other, other home,  I tried to figure out my navigational/directional bearings.  When living in Israel, I lived in Savyon.  Savyon is less than ten miles from the airport.  I thought that if I could figure out where I was maybe I could see my Israeli home one more time during take-off.  That idea was well and good until the plane began down the runway.  At that moment, I looked out the window at the land that I had fallen in love with.  As the plane gained speed, my heart filled with a brokenness that I can only liken to a loss of someone or something irreplaceable.  The indescribable of how Israel affected my heart began to well up in my eyes (Warning: transparent, raw emotion to follow).  Even now, as I type, the memory of that same feeling is producing those same emotions.  I didn't care what others thought as I sat in 33A and cried.  Though my tears, I watched Israel get smaller.  No one plans to cry, it just happens.  I can't describe why I cried, I just did because of all that I was watching go.

 The last moment of Israeli sun....

 Check out the looooong line I had to wait in.  Just kidding, I'm the one at counter with no line.

Arriving to my other, other home, I knew a new adventure awaited me.  I don't know what that will be.....but when do we??  I do not look at my time in Israel as being over.  It is not over because a piece of it will be forever with me.  Life adventures are never over.  They are forever woven into the stories of our lives.  My story continued and continues on as I embraced my family and friends back at my other, other home.  While it all seems a little surreal, I can't help but be grateful for the people, memories, moments, and "homes" I have in two countries.  

The below pictures are of some of the beauty that greeted me back at my other, other home.  There is nothing quite like it.

Hypericum Berries and wild Himalayan Blackberries

Homecoming moments with Aunty!

Final and on-going thoughts on life in general