It's moments like these when I realize and understand that God does exist and is an active force in my life.
.
We were on our way home from work one night this week and decided to take the bus instead of the train thinking that rush hour was mostly over and it may be faster. As the bus ride progressed I began to realize that the bus ride is taking a lot longer than planned. Thoughts rushed through my head: "we should have taken then train. This is taking forever. It's crowded and loud. I'm really tired and just want to be at home. Why did i decide to do this? Gah, that was stupid. We would have been better off on the train." Then, a seat opened up next to a middle-aged African American woman towards the front of the bus. I sat down next to her having no idea what was about to ensue.
She started playing the ringtones on her phone at a high volume. Then she noticed the Hispanic toddler sitting on his dad's lap across the way turn to look at her. She held her phone closer to him and started singing along. I could hardly understand the song... beat, yes. lyrics, no. She played the same ringtone about four times for him. He seemed less than enthused. Then she brought it back to her right ear which, on a bus, is not far from my left ear. For roughly 15 minutes we bounced and nodded and hummed and sang to about 6 different ringtones on her phone. I said to her, "I wish I knew the lyrics! I would totally sing along!" She didn't even take a breath to listen! She just kept being her joyful self and continued singing along.
"Now approaching Vermont and Olympic." It was my time to get off the bus. So I rose to head to the door, turned to her and said, "Thank you. You made my day." She asked me my name, I told her, and she said, "My name's Sandy. It's lovely meeting you. God Bless. Have a good night!" "You too Sandy!" And off I went.
.
God surprises me all the time.
.
Another moment that only proves to me that God exists in people.
Last week I took Thursday and Friday off of work. Monday when Dave and I get to the bus, we get on and the bus driver (who we tend to see more frequently than others) says, "You're back!!" Dave turned around and said, "She noticed you were gone."
Seriously, LA Metro drivers have awful jobs, as far as I can tell, and yet this bus driver payed enough attention to notice I was missing for a couple days.
.
The ways in which I feel loved are sometimes the least expected.
Friday, October 29, 2010
[it's not ok]
Sexism has never been more apparent to me than it has been in these past few months. While most all -isms come up in my work-- racism, ageism, ableism, homophobism, etc-- none has been more apparent to me than sexism. I've never lived with guys before and my friend base has, for the most part, consisted solely of women for most of my life so perhaps this is the change that has propelled my sudden anger and rage towards comments and messages of blatant or accidental or hidden sexism and the over/misuse of women's bodies for any number of things.
.
Let's start here: I know, I know... I set myself up for this: I am volunteering with a Catholic organization... but what kills me is that I have three incredibly passionate and intelligent women in my house who have never once thought of being in ordained ministry because in the religion they were raised, it isn't allowed. I had a conversation with another female JV the other day who sounded really passionate about the church and wanting to become a lay person within the Catholic Church. However, it was discouraging because I see in her qualities for church leadership, but she won't grasp onto them because she feels as though she can't go farther than a lay position. On one hand I respect the commitment to one's tradition... but when your tradition stifles your Holy call in the world, something's not right.
.
Then there are the comments. We have gotten into debates within our house because one of the guys said something they didn't realize was offensive. Fortunately, we accept it as a learning moment and move on. But when those kinds of comments are repeated over and over with no regard for another person's gender, it's not ok. I walked into the house today after being out to lunch with Shannon... Dave and I engaged in conversation:
Dave: How was lunch?
Emily: It was great!
Dave: Did you have some good girl talk?
Emily: Um, firstly, no; secondly, I don't like that phrase. It suggests gossip and implies things.
Dave: Do you just hate everything with the word "girl" in it? And I don't think it means that.
Emily: Then what does it mean?
Dave: Talkin' about boys!
Emily: Um, no.
----
So, whether or not he was joking, I don't know. However, it's "jokes" like these that make me angry. They're unnecessary... particularly when guys make jokes abut them because they don't know how else to deal with the bigger problem. It's sad and pathetic.
.
Then there's the more serious issue of safety. As far as I'm concerned, no man will ever understand what women go through walking down the street-- between the whistles and the "cat calls" and the comments, it is degrading. One of the guys in our house thinks it is ok to walk around downtown Los Angeles at 12:30am in the Warehouse District with three girls. Nothing about this screams "ok." I was told by a wise friend that when a group is together, you bend towards the most vulnerable... if that means a gay male, ok. If that means a female with past sexual trauma, ok. If that means the person that feels the least safe, ok. But you change your ways to accommodate for the vulnerable.
.
Why is it that Rihanna gets abused and then sings lyrics such as, "I like the way it hurts." ?? What kind of message does that send? And why are other musical artists singing songs that speak of not wanting to disrespect a girl, but then lists off all the things he likes about her body? Why is that appealing to people? Our minds become numb to societal ills when these are the things we are fed.
.
Society has built these assumptions about women that oppress them... us... in ways that cannot be broken. Why is it that my desire to show the world what I've got has to go through barricades of stigma and beliefs and societal walls based on lies and fear?
.
How do we fight back? Education (as we are doing in our house) is a first step. But what can we do beyond that to stop the abuses?
.
Let's start here: I know, I know... I set myself up for this: I am volunteering with a Catholic organization... but what kills me is that I have three incredibly passionate and intelligent women in my house who have never once thought of being in ordained ministry because in the religion they were raised, it isn't allowed. I had a conversation with another female JV the other day who sounded really passionate about the church and wanting to become a lay person within the Catholic Church. However, it was discouraging because I see in her qualities for church leadership, but she won't grasp onto them because she feels as though she can't go farther than a lay position. On one hand I respect the commitment to one's tradition... but when your tradition stifles your Holy call in the world, something's not right.
.
Then there are the comments. We have gotten into debates within our house because one of the guys said something they didn't realize was offensive. Fortunately, we accept it as a learning moment and move on. But when those kinds of comments are repeated over and over with no regard for another person's gender, it's not ok. I walked into the house today after being out to lunch with Shannon... Dave and I engaged in conversation:
Dave: How was lunch?
Emily: It was great!
Dave: Did you have some good girl talk?
Emily: Um, firstly, no; secondly, I don't like that phrase. It suggests gossip and implies things.
Dave: Do you just hate everything with the word "girl" in it? And I don't think it means that.
Emily: Then what does it mean?
Dave: Talkin' about boys!
Emily: Um, no.
----
So, whether or not he was joking, I don't know. However, it's "jokes" like these that make me angry. They're unnecessary... particularly when guys make jokes abut them because they don't know how else to deal with the bigger problem. It's sad and pathetic.
.
Then there's the more serious issue of safety. As far as I'm concerned, no man will ever understand what women go through walking down the street-- between the whistles and the "cat calls" and the comments, it is degrading. One of the guys in our house thinks it is ok to walk around downtown Los Angeles at 12:30am in the Warehouse District with three girls. Nothing about this screams "ok." I was told by a wise friend that when a group is together, you bend towards the most vulnerable... if that means a gay male, ok. If that means a female with past sexual trauma, ok. If that means the person that feels the least safe, ok. But you change your ways to accommodate for the vulnerable.
.
Why is it that Rihanna gets abused and then sings lyrics such as, "I like the way it hurts." ?? What kind of message does that send? And why are other musical artists singing songs that speak of not wanting to disrespect a girl, but then lists off all the things he likes about her body? Why is that appealing to people? Our minds become numb to societal ills when these are the things we are fed.
.
Society has built these assumptions about women that oppress them... us... in ways that cannot be broken. Why is it that my desire to show the world what I've got has to go through barricades of stigma and beliefs and societal walls based on lies and fear?
.
How do we fight back? Education (as we are doing in our house) is a first step. But what can we do beyond that to stop the abuses?
Sunday, October 24, 2010
[Psalm 118]
Love this. Love them. this is how I'm feeling these days.
.
[sidenote... we need to decrease the use of "he" as a pronoun when referring to God...]
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
[food for thought]
Jesus said, “You will indeed listen, but never understand, and you will indeed look, but never perceive. For this people’s heart has grown dull, and their ears are hard of hearing, and they have shut their eyes” (Matthew 13:14b-15a).
.
“Today it is fashionable to talk about the poor. Unfortunately, it is not fashionable to talk with them.”
- Mother Teresa
.
.
“Today it is fashionable to talk about the poor. Unfortunately, it is not fashionable to talk with them.”
- Mother Teresa
.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
[sacred text]
Love from the center of who you are; don't fake it. Run for dear life from evil; hold on for dear life to good. Be good friends who love deeply; practice playing second fiddle.Don't burn out; keep yourselves fueled and aflame. Be alert servants of the Master, cheerfully expectant. Don't quit in hard times; pray all the harder. Help needy [people]; be inventive in hospitality.
.
Romans 12:9-13 (Message version)
.
Romans 12:9-13 (Message version)
Sunday, October 3, 2010
[Petey's]
this is why I love Petey's (the more affectionate name for our market at which we purchase the majority of our produce, PeterPan Market).
.
13 apples
5 tomatoes
5 oranges
10 carrots
2 avocados
1 head of lettuce
5 peaches
.
$11.10
.
And we're supporting locally.
.
love it.
.
13 apples
5 tomatoes
5 oranges
10 carrots
2 avocados
1 head of lettuce
5 peaches
.
$11.10
.
And we're supporting locally.
.
love it.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
[music]
I love. love. love. love. that music breaks cultural barriers.
.
When a Korean pop song manages to lay a tight beat, you know you're in good company. Even if you're surrounded by nothing familiar, a good rhythm really sooths the soul.
.
.
When a Korean pop song manages to lay a tight beat, you know you're in good company. Even if you're surrounded by nothing familiar, a good rhythm really sooths the soul.
.
Friday, October 1, 2010
[Violation and Love]
Below is the article I wrote for the Nov. church newsletter.
.
Sometime between 6 and 8:30pm on Thursday September 23rd, my community's house was broken into and burglarized. Two doors were found open, a screen taken off and window opened, a drawer thrown onto someone's bed. Immediately I realized two computers, someone's purse, and a whole bunch of precious jewelry. Gone. Sensations of violation and anxiety rushed to my head and my heart. It felt as though the ground had fallen out beneath me. I was panic stricken and angry. My computer was gone. Someone had broken into our house. Trespassed our private property. Violated our space and our being.
One of my all time favorite songs is by the Gabe Dixon Band and says, "All will be well... even after all the promises you've broken to yourself." On some level, I promised myself I would be safe. We all knew going into JVC that nothing was guaranteed. We were told to not bring valuables with us for the year because theft was always possible. But never... NEVER did I think that it would be us. For the first time in my relationship with this song I thought, no... all will NOT be well. Our safety has been tossed to the wind and blown away. Our sense of comfort was suddenly no where to be found. The police, who we called three times over the course of 4 hours, never showed up that night. We felt ignored. JVC couldn't do anything for us at the time and our landlord wouldn't answer his door. We felt helpless.
With that said, I have two options: The first is to explain to you my "God moment" when I realized that my cup overflows from all the people that love me and support me. Then there's the second: to explain some thoughts surrounding the feelings of violation, which, believe it or not, was also a "God moment." Because I couldn't decide which to share with you, here are two different alternate endings, if you will, that came from this experience.
ONE: Of course, I immediately called my mother. Then I called two of the most comforting and beloved friends in my life. Both of them in some way told me to look for God's blessing or to just simply look for God in the situation. My friend Zayna said to me, "I know it will be hard to see but God is there for you somehow right now. Keep an eye out." What God said in her words was "keep an ear out" because in those moments of feeling helpless, alone, violated and angry, I had found God in the conversations that happened that night. I realized that the love and support from people in my life outweighed all the awful feelings that came from this experience.
Yes, our house was broken into, our stuff was stolen, and our safety was now in question. However, God's faithfulness to and love for us overcomes all the fear and anxiety and danger that has settled in my heart. We sang in church this week, "Great is Your faithfulness, great is Your faithfulness. All I have needed, the Lord has provided... strength for today, bright hope for tomorrow. Great is Your faithfulness, God unto me." I have never believed that more than I do right now in the midst of chaos. God has been faithful through and through. With every breath I take these days I praise my Creator because with God "all will [always] be well."
TWO: Reflect back: In what ways have you experienced violation before? (And don't look over those "small" violations... because any size violation is violation.) It is an awful feeling, right? If violation is not something you experience everyday, reflect on how you dealt with it the first time for a moment...It's been a week (as I write this) and I am still stuck in this reflection. For a few days following the robbery I tried to make sense of it. Make sense of what I was feeling, what I was thinking, how to respond, what to do, what to say, how to express my anger. Then it hit me. I realized that it wasn't that easy to process particularely because I had never been violated before.
The night we were robbed I realized that my clients here at My Friend's Place and, for that matter, vulnerable people all around the world are violated every day. Whether their possessions get stolen, their bodies get used, or someone steals their identity, they are violated. On many occasions (a number which amounts to more than we could ever imagine) this happens every day of their lives. Some of the youth here at MFP get their stuff stolen daily. Others (if not the same youth) are taken advantage of because their mental illness does not allow them to comprehend the danger. The list could go on. However, here in Los Angeles I am experiencing a little bit of what the Jesuit Volunteer Corps really wanted me to experience. But more importantly, I am experiencing that to which Jesus calls us. I am living in solidarity with the poor and the vulnerable. It is a gift to experience this and I wouldn't trade these feelings for all I've learned.
.
Sometime between 6 and 8:30pm on Thursday September 23rd, my community's house was broken into and burglarized. Two doors were found open, a screen taken off and window opened, a drawer thrown onto someone's bed. Immediately I realized two computers, someone's purse, and a whole bunch of precious jewelry. Gone. Sensations of violation and anxiety rushed to my head and my heart. It felt as though the ground had fallen out beneath me. I was panic stricken and angry. My computer was gone. Someone had broken into our house. Trespassed our private property. Violated our space and our being.
One of my all time favorite songs is by the Gabe Dixon Band and says, "All will be well... even after all the promises you've broken to yourself." On some level, I promised myself I would be safe. We all knew going into JVC that nothing was guaranteed. We were told to not bring valuables with us for the year because theft was always possible. But never... NEVER did I think that it would be us. For the first time in my relationship with this song I thought, no... all will NOT be well. Our safety has been tossed to the wind and blown away. Our sense of comfort was suddenly no where to be found. The police, who we called three times over the course of 4 hours, never showed up that night. We felt ignored. JVC couldn't do anything for us at the time and our landlord wouldn't answer his door. We felt helpless.
With that said, I have two options: The first is to explain to you my "God moment" when I realized that my cup overflows from all the people that love me and support me. Then there's the second: to explain some thoughts surrounding the feelings of violation, which, believe it or not, was also a "God moment." Because I couldn't decide which to share with you, here are two different alternate endings, if you will, that came from this experience.
ONE: Of course, I immediately called my mother. Then I called two of the most comforting and beloved friends in my life. Both of them in some way told me to look for God's blessing or to just simply look for God in the situation. My friend Zayna said to me, "I know it will be hard to see but God is there for you somehow right now. Keep an eye out." What God said in her words was "keep an ear out" because in those moments of feeling helpless, alone, violated and angry, I had found God in the conversations that happened that night. I realized that the love and support from people in my life outweighed all the awful feelings that came from this experience.
Yes, our house was broken into, our stuff was stolen, and our safety was now in question. However, God's faithfulness to and love for us overcomes all the fear and anxiety and danger that has settled in my heart. We sang in church this week, "Great is Your faithfulness, great is Your faithfulness. All I have needed, the Lord has provided... strength for today, bright hope for tomorrow. Great is Your faithfulness, God unto me." I have never believed that more than I do right now in the midst of chaos. God has been faithful through and through. With every breath I take these days I praise my Creator because with God "all will [always] be well."
TWO: Reflect back: In what ways have you experienced violation before? (And don't look over those "small" violations... because any size violation is violation.) It is an awful feeling, right? If violation is not something you experience everyday, reflect on how you dealt with it the first time for a moment...It's been a week (as I write this) and I am still stuck in this reflection. For a few days following the robbery I tried to make sense of it. Make sense of what I was feeling, what I was thinking, how to respond, what to do, what to say, how to express my anger. Then it hit me. I realized that it wasn't that easy to process particularely because I had never been violated before.
The night we were robbed I realized that my clients here at My Friend's Place and, for that matter, vulnerable people all around the world are violated every day. Whether their possessions get stolen, their bodies get used, or someone steals their identity, they are violated. On many occasions (a number which amounts to more than we could ever imagine) this happens every day of their lives. Some of the youth here at MFP get their stuff stolen daily. Others (if not the same youth) are taken advantage of because their mental illness does not allow them to comprehend the danger. The list could go on. However, here in Los Angeles I am experiencing a little bit of what the Jesuit Volunteer Corps really wanted me to experience. But more importantly, I am experiencing that to which Jesus calls us. I am living in solidarity with the poor and the vulnerable. It is a gift to experience this and I wouldn't trade these feelings for all I've learned.
[love]
[Allow my head to think quickly and my fingers to type immediately for just a moment.]
.
My heart has broken.
.
I had realized this before but never to this extent.... the fact that some of these youth have no one in their lives to love them.
.
A client told me today that he comes in to MFP everyday and thinks, "These [staff members] have good jobs, people to love them... they are livin' the life..." He's right. I have people to love me...
.
I didn't realize how much the love of friends and family during the deepest, darkest moments of my life meant to me. How much that love flowed through me and encouraged me to keep on keeping on. I have taken love, one of the most precious gifts someone can give, for granted.
.
But now I do realize that love is necessary. The mandates to "love your neighbor" and "love your enemies" are crucial. How could I ever forget that now? I can't. Love overflows.
.
So, my job is to make him (and the rest of the clients) feel loved without overstepping boundaries. But how? Fortunately, I realized at the end of our conversation that he believes in God (that's one approach). I feel like saying, "God loves you... and wants the best for you... " but if I had been homeless and on the streets for 10+ years, I'm not sure how I would feel about that statement... then again, it isn't about me.
.
I'm reading Copenhaver and Daniel's book, "This Odd and Wonderous Calling" (which is awesome by the way) and this morning I read a chapter on prayer by Copenhaver in which he explains the only way to learn how to pray is to pray. I suppose this means for me that the only way to learn how to talk about God and ask those questions of strangers is to do it.
.
All I can do is try. Maybe it will work and maybe it won't. Here's to learning by trial and error in the efforts of making all people feel loved in some way.
.
.
My heart has broken.
.
I had realized this before but never to this extent.... the fact that some of these youth have no one in their lives to love them.
.
A client told me today that he comes in to MFP everyday and thinks, "These [staff members] have good jobs, people to love them... they are livin' the life..." He's right. I have people to love me...
.
I didn't realize how much the love of friends and family during the deepest, darkest moments of my life meant to me. How much that love flowed through me and encouraged me to keep on keeping on. I have taken love, one of the most precious gifts someone can give, for granted.
.
But now I do realize that love is necessary. The mandates to "love your neighbor" and "love your enemies" are crucial. How could I ever forget that now? I can't. Love overflows.
.
So, my job is to make him (and the rest of the clients) feel loved without overstepping boundaries. But how? Fortunately, I realized at the end of our conversation that he believes in God (that's one approach). I feel like saying, "God loves you... and wants the best for you... " but if I had been homeless and on the streets for 10+ years, I'm not sure how I would feel about that statement... then again, it isn't about me.
.
I'm reading Copenhaver and Daniel's book, "This Odd and Wonderous Calling" (which is awesome by the way) and this morning I read a chapter on prayer by Copenhaver in which he explains the only way to learn how to pray is to pray. I suppose this means for me that the only way to learn how to talk about God and ask those questions of strangers is to do it.
.
All I can do is try. Maybe it will work and maybe it won't. Here's to learning by trial and error in the efforts of making all people feel loved in some way.
.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)