Category: parenting

Mothering the World Right Now!

by Kay Klinkenborg

Climate change, war in Ukraine, starvation in Yemen and Afghanistan to name a few places that is happening. And a world pandemic continues.  The world is not the same.  We will not be returning to ‘normal’…whatever that was.   Pastor Paul Whitlock on April 3 gave a powerful sermon on FOMO…FLOP…FOMO.  I was quite taken with his creativity.  Fun On Moving Onward (FOMO) was his challenge.  Now what was I to do with that?  Instantly my feminine energy kicked into gear.

Mothering.  Creation has been ‘mothering’ since the beginning.  God speaks of ‘we’ in Genesis; not alone as Creator. Then other Hebrew Scriptures speak of Sophia, Wisdom; which has been interpreted by highly respected theologians as the feminine side of God. 

The Talmud also introduces the term Shekhinah to connote God’s presence in the world. Though the term is grammatically feminine, in the Talmud it is not explicitly gendered, though in some passages it refers to moments when God shares in human experiences of loneliness, loss, and exile.1

 In the case of Jewish thought, grammar at times meets theology in as much as impersonal Hebrew nouns are gendered, so that words like hokhmah (wisdom) and shekhinah (presence) over time lent themselves by virtue of their feminine.1

In fact, the personal name of God, Yahweh, which is revealed to Moses in Exodus 3, is a remarkable combination of both female and male grammatical endings. The first part of God’s name in Hebrew, “Yah,” is feminine, and the last part, “weh,” is masculine.2

I am pleased that I can attest to many men I know that use ‘mothering characteristics’ in their relationships and interactions.  I am not suggesting that this is a woman’s task at all.  In fact, I think history and biblical interpretations show us that feminine traits are revered.  And our world right now needs that kind of love!.

Remember the famous song: “What the World Needs Now is Love, Sweet Love.”  One word most will resonant with to describe that is a verb:  mothering.

Since the beginning of time…’mothering’…to nurture…to care for…to watch after’ has and does occur.  It had to have occurred or evolution would not have sustained, extended or be continuing.  As the human species evolves our archeological discoveries tell us that ‘mothering’ occurred.  It is nature’s form of care taking, survival of the species.

One major thing I have learned more about these past three years… ‘getting out of God’s way’.  My instinctual need to control, be in charge is being challenged.   I am learning more about the spiritual discipline of surrender.  Let God evolve.   There is no surprise that we have a pandemic. There have always been pandemics, disasters, wars, a disappearance of life as we understand it.  That there is a new virus is not news.  Our ownership that this can happen to us is what is new.  This is nature. This is the evolving of life in this known Universe.

I have found myself ‘shoulding’:  I should do this; I should say that; I should not be having this fear and anxiety.   A sampling of my should list.   What about ‘mothering myself’?   What about starting there in order to have the energy and compassion to extend to others?   If I can have compassion for my own journey/feelings during this extraordinary time in history, will not that enable me to understand/hear and have compassion beyond myself.  Then I am ready to extend ‘mothering’.

Only in self-compassion and owning my own emotions in this particular journey will I then have the energy and compassionate response to others to be mothering the world.  Mirabai Starr writes in her book Wild Mercy: Living the Fierce and Tender Wisdom of the Women Mystics, “…we need a mothering of the world together right now.”    We need that feminine energy that is male and female brought forth to face these challenges.

I want to explicitly point out the fact that women who have not born children… mother; men… mother,  It is part of our innate design if we own that part of ourselves.  A friend taught me a profound lesson about mothering;

One particularly Mother’s Day, I was quite depressed; estranged from our son and blaming myself for his adult choices. A friend sent me a text that day that knew of the circumstances.  “Kay, you have been mothering people your entire adult life.  As a nurse, friend, manager, counselor, consultant and the list goes on.  So today claim all the mothering you have and do. Let that bring comfort.”

So I am challenging myself as I write to this audience, let my ‘mothering show forth’; let my love be visible and make me an instrument that releases a song of ‘Love, Love, Love…’

Going on without denying any aspect of the human drama is what strength is all about. We are carved by life into instruments that will release our song, if we can hold each up to the carving.
Mark Nepo
 

1”Feminine Images of God”:  Yehudah Mirsky, Jewish Women’s Archive.

2CBE (cbeinternational.org) (Christians for Biblical Equality). “The Feminine Imagery of God in the Hebrew Bible.” Joan P. Schaupp | October 30, 2000.

What Does God See When God Looks At Me?

For Mothers

by Deborah Church Worley  – May 2013

I dedicate this poem 
to my mother, Joyce Mary Payne Church–
who put up with me as a kid;
to my kids, Sarah, Ryan, and John–
who are putting up with me as a mom;
and to all moms everywhere,
who are doing their best every day
to love their kids!

God bless you all!

What does God see
when God looks at me?  
Does God see my elbows?
Does God see my knees?
Does God see my nose
and my misshapen toes?
The shape of my chin?
the color of my skin?
Does God see me in the morning,
when I’m looking quite scary?  
Does God see my legs,
when they’re scaly and hairy?
Does God see those bags
I’ve got under my eyes?  
Does God see jelly jiggling
when God sees my thighs??
Sometimes I wonder what God sees 
when God thinks to look at me…


What does God see
when God looks at me?  
Does God see that bulge
where my waist used to be??
Does God see the [mark of honor] stretch marks
that adorn my lower belly?
…and the muscles underneath
that have now turned to jelly??
Does God see the parts of my body
that will never again be lifted?
…and how my view of the world around me
has forever shifted…
because I am a mother?
The toughest job I could ever love (well, mostly!…)
is being a mother…  
Does God see my gratitude for this gift
that is truly like no other?
Sometimes I wonder what God sees 
when God thinks to look at me…




What does God see
when God looks at me?  
Does God see me when I’m buried
under dirty laundry?
Does God see me stagger out of bed
to feed my crying baby?
‘Cause I’d do it with a smile
if I thought God was watching…(maybe!)
Does God see the moments of panic
when I realize how true it is
that I really don’t have a clue
when it comes to this mothering biz?!
Why didn’t You send an instruction book, God,
when You sent this child to me?  
What You saw in me when You gave me this gift,
I’m not so sure I see…
Sometimes I wonder what God sees 
when God thinks to look at me…

God whispers to me, “I see it all…,”
and then in my heart I hear God call,
“You are my Beloved…

…and you are more beautiful
and more capable than you know!”

What does God see
when God looks at me?  
Does God see me putting band-aids
on banged-up knees?
Does God see me steal a cookie
when I’m making all those lunches?  
I can’t help it, God–sometimes I get
those early morning munchies!!
Does God see me put thousands of miles
on the car, going back and forth?  
And that’s not even counting their activities–
that’s just trips to the grocery store!
Do You see when I get frazzled, God,
trying to keep everything straight?  
I’ll tell You, it’s a good thing I’m married
‘cause I sure as heck don’t have time for a date!
Sometimes I wonder what God sees 
when God thinks to look at me…
 

What does God see
when God looks at me?  
Does God see me as I really am?
or as I’d like to be?
I hope God sees me when
I’m being sympathetic, patient, and kind,
and hears me when I’m inconvenienced,
saying, “It’s okay, I really don’t mind!”
I hope when I’m being crabby,
God has looked the other way,
but when I’m loving & sweet again,
has just happened to turn back my way!
Does God see me when I’m short-tempered? 
Just ask my kids–I get downright mean!
But it’s only when I’m being a good mom
that I really want to be seen…
Sometimes I wonder what God sees 
when God thinks to look at me….


What does God see
when God looks at me?
Does God see me cleaning up vomit
at a quarter to three?
Does God see me when I stay up late,
just to wash my son’s favorite shirt?  
Does God see when I want to shake him and say,
“Stay away from her–she’s just a big flirt!”?
Does God see me when I’m trying
to scrape that old gum off the couch?  
Does God see when, sometimes in seconds,
I go from “loving mom”
to “screaming grouch”?!?
I try to always keep my cool, God,
I really, really do…
but some of what I deal with from my kids
would even be trying for You!
Sometimes I wonder what God sees 
when God thinks to look at me…
 

God whispers to me, “I see it all…,”
and then in my heart I hear God call,
“You are my Beloved…

…even when you’re frazzled and crabby!
But keep breathing–you’ll make it,
and remember–all shall be well….”

What does God see
when God looks at me?  
Does God see my heart stop
when my baby screams?
Does God see I feel the same
whether she’s five or fifty-eight–
when I know my child is hurting, God,
my heart just breaks…
Do You see, God, how deeply I long to shelter
my child from life’s pain?
Yet I know that if I somehow succeeded in that,
there’d be more loss than gain…
While no one wants to go through hard times,
it seems to be how we learn best…
Does God see me pray for my child, 
for strength & wisdom when facing life’s tests?
Sometimes I wonder what God sees
when God thinks to look at me…

What does God see
when God looks at me?  
Does God see the pride that fills me
from my head to my feet?
Does God see the delight I feel
when I hear kindness in my son’s words?
when there’s compassion in his actions?
when genuine caring is felt and heard?
Does God see the disappointment I feel
when he chooses to do wrong?
and how I pray for courage for him,
to do the right thing and not just “go along”
with his friends, without thinking,
just part of the crowd…
God, help him be true to himself…
If not for his own sake,
then, God, please, for mine,
for the sake of my fragile mental health!
Sometimes I wonder what God sees 
when God thinks to look at me…

What does God see
when God looks at me?  
Does God see me hold in my concern
as I watch her climb that tree?
Does God see the slight sadness in my heart,
though overshadowed by great joy,
when she walks down the aisle in her lovely white dress,
on the arm of that wonderful boy [or girl!]?
Does God see I just want what’s best for my child,
with all of my soul and heart?  
I know I can’t live her life for her, God…
I’ve tried my best to give her a good start.
Help me to trust that she’s in Your hands,
that You love her even more than I,
And help me to remember that she belongs to You, God,
that You’re just sharing her with me for a while…
Sometimes I wonder what God sees 
when God thinks to look at me…

God whispers to me, “I see it all…,”
and then in my heart I hear God call,
“You are my Beloved…
Your child is my Beloved…
and I have you both in my hands…
Trust me…”

 

What does God see
when God looks at me?  
Does God see my abiding thankfulness
for my family?
Does God see my gratitude
for everything that we have shared?
for all the ways and times and places
that we’ve shown each other we care?
I admit there have been moments, God,
when I’ve wanted to run away,
when it all just seemed too hard,
and I didn’t think I could do it for another day…
But I hung on, I said a prayer,
I took a deep breath, I called a friend…
And I got up again the next morning,
trusting that the rough times would eventually end…
Sometimes I wonder what God sees 
when God thinks to look at me…

But here I am, God, still a mother,
and a mother I forever will be.  
It doesn’t matter whether my child
is one week old or 103!
I’m an imperfect mom who makes mistakes,
but who hopefully gets some things right–
I hope my child knows he’s loved
when he goes to sleep at night…
I hope she knows she’s cherished and valued,
and that she’s beautiful, too…
And I hope at some point they will know for themselves 
how deeply they are loved by You…
That is my deepest and most heartfelt longing;
it’s for that I most fervently pray…
And I have to trust that You will answer that prayer, God,
in Your time and in Your way…
God, sometimes I wonder what You see 
when You think to look at me…

“I see YOU, my child!
I see it all…
and to you, my dear one, I continue to call:
You are my Beloved!

I see you as a mom,
trying your best…
Just keep loving that child–
don’t worry so much about the rest!
You are beautiful, you are capable,
yes, you’re grouchy once in a while–
but you’re allowed!  After all, you’re human!
And that’s a good thing to show your child…
You’re not supposed to be perfect–
that was never part of my plan.
I only want you to be you,
as courageously as you can!
Don’t be afraid, my dear one,
to be who I made you to be!
Accept my Love deep within yourself,
and you will truly be free–
Free to love and accept your child,
and who she is at her very core…
That’s the best gift you can give your child;
he couldn’t ask for anything more!

You ask me what I see in you
when I look your way?
I see a beautiful, capable woman
to whom I continue to say,
‘You are my Beloved!’
Hear it…Let it sink in…Accept it…
and go love on your child!”

I hear it…and I let it sink in…and I accept it:
I am God’s Beloved!

Awesome.  🙂

And you are God’s Beloved!
Let’s go love on all of our kids!!

Happy Mother’s Day!

Peak Experience

guest post by Rev. Deb Worley

“You were called to this kind of endurance, because Christ suffered on your behalf. He left you an example so that you might follow in his footsteps.” (1 Peter 2:21)

“…and I will seek You in the morning, and I will learn to walk in your ways,
and step by step you’ll lead me, and I will follow you all of my days…
…and on this road to righteousness sometimes the climb can be so steep,
I may falter in my steps but never beyond your reach…”)

For a few days of my vacation last week, I was camping with Ryan and John at Great Sand Dunes National Park and Preserve, just north of Alamosa, CO. What an incredible place! They had camped there a few years ago with their Boy Scout troop, and convinced me that one of the things we needed to do while we were there was hike to the peak. “Sure,” I said, always up for a hike with my kids (especially one that THEY were eager to do!).

We started out reasonably early Tuesday morning (about 8:45–remember these are two teenage boys who had been in the habit of sleeping in until noon or later most of the summer!), and made pretty good time…for a little while. But the air got warmer, the sand got hotter, and the dunes got steeper! More than once I had to stop to catch my breath and take a swig of water, shouting at Ryan–whose longer (and stronger!) legs seemed to cover more ground both more quickly and more easily–to hold up. John, who hasn’t quite surpassed me in height–or length of leg!–YET, more naturally kept pace closer to me. 

The midway point, looking back to
where we began (the green!)

As the peak got closer, the dunes got steeper and my needs for a break, more frequent! Walking in sand, even on level ground, is difficult; and walking up fairly steep sand dunes felt like a clear case of two steps forward, one step back! At one point, the boys told me I could stop and just stay where I was while they went to the peak, and they would “pick me up” on the way back. There was no way in heck I was going to do that!

So I plodded on…and at some point realized that it was easier to make progress if I made an effort to step in John’s (and/or Ryan’s) footsteps, if I didn’t feel like I had to forge my own path when they had already created a path of sorts for me to follow. So from that point on, that’s what I did–I no longer looked up to see how much further we had to go, I didn’t check to make sure we were going in the right direction, I didn’t feel badly if the boys got too far ahead of me. I just kept my head down and took one step at a time, focusing only on putting my feet in the footsteps they left as they walked in front of me. I figured I’d get to the peak if they got to the peak, and they seemed to know how to get there!

Same place, looking toward the peak
(the farthest, highest point!)

And we made it! And it was awesome! Well, truth be told, it was brutal! A killer hike! Way harder than I had expected it to be!! BUT…we did it. We all made it. Even the 50+ year old mom in the group! And did it feel good when we got to the peak! Really, really good. And not just because the worst was over (although I confess, there was tremendous relief in knowing that!). But because we had worked so hard to get there. Really, really hard! 

In some ways I feel like we are all doing something like that in these times. We are doing a hard thing, living in and through these uncertain times, doing things that are harder than we had expected them to be, with these “things” lasting longer than we thought they would….

And even beyond “these times,” just living life presents us all with hard things. Things that wear us out and wear us down, things that necessitate stopping for a break, sometimes more frequently than at other times. Challenges in our lives that cause us to feel like others are forging ahead with more ease and strength, more clarity of direction and purpose….

In those times, and in these times, perhaps we can take some comfort in following in Jesus’s footsteps. 

In those times, and in these times, perhaps we can, at least for a time, stop trying to figure out “how much further” we have to go, and stop worrying about whether we’re going in the right direction, and let go of our need to compare our progress to that of anyone else around us…

In those times, and in these times, what if we focused on just taking the next step, and doing what we can to make sure that that “next step” is one Jesus left for us to follow, trusting that the direction his footsteps lead us is where, in fact, we want to be going…. 

It might be a hard path to follow. In fact, I can almost guarantee it will be a hard path to follow. It might even be harder than we expect it to be.

But I have no doubt that the destination will be awesome. 

Peace, and persistence, be with us all…as we follow in Jesus’s footsteps, one step at a time. 

Bribery Works!

by Abigail Conley

“Bribery works” is my very best parenting advice. I don’t have kids, but it’s born out of personal experience. Bribery works and works fairly well. I wouldn’t have made it through Kindergarten without it. 

In the summer of 1989, I went to KinderCamp, the transitional, two-hour version of Kindergarten for kids entering school that fall. Preschools weren’t really a thing then, especially in rural areas, so this was new for most of us. Even full-day Kindergarten five days a week was new at that point. My birthday is in August, so I was barely five when the whole endeavor began. But really, the problem started at KinderCamp. 

KinderCamp was held with Mrs. Robinson, a soft-spoken, incredibly patient teacher whom I was certain would be wonderful. (Years later, I babysat her kids. I remain confident in the opinion of five-year-old me.) A few weeks later, a decision to close a nearby school came down, and I got Mrs. Nelson instead. She was nearing retirement and very kind in many ways. She also was nearing retirement and was very done in a few ways. She was especially done with raising her voice, so she used a whistle to get our attention. 

Barely five-year-old me hated the whistle. I was scared by it, and also an incredibly shy little kid. As a result, I both hated the whistle and wouldn’t tell anyone I hated the whistle. And so begins the year of Keeping Abby In School: A Community Effort. 

Step 1: Let’s begin with the bribery. That was my grandfather’s idea, and he funded the bribes. He had a knack for figuring out little kid problems, so it was a solid plan. He previously had great success ending bedwetting by giving me a flashlight so I didn’t have to walk through the dark to the bathroom. His bribery plan was simple: fifty cents a day to go to school and not cry. I would report to him when I saw him on Friday and he would pay me for every day I went to school and didn’t cry. Fifty cents was the cost of a can of pop from the school vending machine. Back then, sugary snacks at recess were expected. My best lesson in money management comes from the whole bribery endeavor, but that’s a different story. 

Step 2: Next up was getting me to school. I had loved watching my sister get on the bus each morning, but was not so keen on getting on myself. My dad started dropping me off on his way to work. The fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Swint, always took the early morning bus duty. She was waiting in the gym for me, ready to take me from my dad. I’m told I was both cute and pitiful, wiping tears from underneath my Mickey Mouse glasses as I went from my dad to Mrs. Swint. Who knows how long it took her to settle me at the Kindergarten table. 

Step 3: Breakfast. I started to write food, but we should talk about the two school meals separately. I have never been great at mornings. Food has never been great for me in the morning, and I stopped believing the “you’ll grow out of it” promises around age thirty. I need to be awake for about two hours before I eat in order to not feel sick after eating. I was also a strictly cereal child, with limited likes. This resulted in my mom packing a baggie of cereal for me each morning, and buying milk at school. The lunch ladies would always give me a bowl so that I could eat my breakfast at school. This was the system unless the state inspectors were coming and we couldn’t break the rules. They would make sure and tell me this so I could adjust my plans.

Step 4: Then, lunch. Yes, I was a picky eater. My mom would pack my bologna, cheese, and ketchup sandwich if needed, but preferred if I would eat school lunch. While we received the monthly menu, it would occasionally change. This meant a phone call to my home early in the morning to notify me of any changes, especially if the lunch ladies knew it was something I didn’t like. They would make a peanut butter sandwich for any kid in a school where many kids didn’t have something to pack. They also knew I didn’t care for peanut butter sandwiches. (We were a peanut butter crackers family.) A phone call was an easy way to make everyone involved much happier. 

Step 5: Keep up steps 1-4 for an entire school year. 

Step 6: Make special allowances on days when things do not go as normal. One day we had a substitute teacher and I freaked out. Mrs. Kenni, the secretary, let me sit in the office with her, which was just fine with me. She even showed me how the giant safe worked and let me lock myself inside and let myself out. She made her son try it first, so she knew it worked and I couldn’t actually get stuck in there. I’m sure there were other things, too, but I mostly remember her rescuing me the day Mr. Mason was there. 

I should mention that there are failed steps, too. My mom thought I missed my family so she sent me with pictures. She was wrong on that one. My dad likely tried, “Dry it up,” a few times; that was his standard response to crying. I’ve also probably forgotten the ineffective attempts to help. I realize things would have been much harder in a different school. My class had twelve or thirteen kids at any given time; once, we might have gotten up to sixteen. My school had about a hundred students. 

Still, let me tell you: bribery works. 

Laying Out the Napkins

by Karen Richter

There are a couple of questions that have captured my imagination in adulthood. The first one is “Do I want a contemplative life?” This question came to me in the midst of training as a spiritual director at Hesychia. The program (it’s awesome, by the way) assumes that participants are approaching maturity in their spiritual practice. My Hesychia cohort and my own spiritual director have been immense help in wrestling with this question… which remains open for me and serves as a guidepost.

The second question is “What does contemplation during the season of raising children look like?” This too is an open question, but I will share with you one answer that I’ve discovered.

Contemplation is laying out the napkins.

My children are older (22, 17, and 13 yikes) but most nights we still sit down together to a meal that I’ve prepared. Often evenings feel hurried. People have places to be and things they want do be doing. Yet there’s a moment – the microwave has beeped and the pasta has drained. The carrots are cut and the sauce has thickened. Everything is ready. But I pause. I lay out napkins and fill water glasses. I pause and I breathe before I call everyone to dinner.

It’s nothing, really. Just seconds, a mere moment of being present and grateful. Silent retreats and long sessions of prayer might be a larger part of my life in another season. For now, I’ll continue laying out the napkins.

Performance

by Karen Richter

I love reading Slate’s advice columns. Recently, I read advice from teachers to parents at the start of the school year. The first response involved a teacher asking parents to think through their request for extra information about their child’s school experience. Specifically, the teacher said that parents often tell her, “Share with me everything always.” And of course, this is not really feasible or even beneficial for most families or most teachers. 

But it got me thinking: why would a parent even say that? Is Parent X really expecting a daily stream-of-consciousness report from their progeny’s teacher? Probably not.

Here is my suspicion: We say things that we assume others are expecting to hear, and we say things that give others a certain impression of who we are. In this specific situation, there is a special kind of anxiety for a parent when meeting with their child’s teacher. Many parents would admit that it’s important that their child’s teacher have a positive impression. We want to be “good parents,” with all the baggage of expectations that label entails. In all kinds of situations (not just parenting at the beginning of the school year), we’re prone to the same behavior: performance. We humans are always asking, “What is expected of me?” The game of managing, meeting, exceeding the expectations of others around us takes a lot of our energy. It’s exhausting, actually. To make matters worse, the more time we spend on The Performance Game the more difficult it becomes to recognize when we’re playing it.

What if we stopped?

What if our churches became places where people practiced NOT performing? A few years ago, a friend from church talked with me about a Sunday morning struggle. There are those weeks, she explained, when you and your partner are fussing and cranky with one another, the children are slow in getting ready, and the counter top is sticky. So you rush through the routine, pile in the car to get to church… and plaster a believable-enough smile on your face and pretend to be happy and normal.

And then we might wonder why our relationships seem to be shallow and why we carry around a vague sense of malaise and ennui all the time. We might wonder why our churches are so often seen as ineffective or even hypocritical.

What’s the cure for The Performance Game?

As usual, the cures are simple but not easy. Here are my top 3 Performance Anxiety Busting Superstars:

  1. friendship

Have friends and let them really see you. Friendship magic happens when we stop cleaning up before friends arrive to our home. This is also one of the greatest blessings of rough times: when it is obvious (so so obvious!) that our lives are not perfect, we can stop pretending that they are and let our real selves show up. I am writing today all the things I need to practice the most, and this is a big one. Slowly but surely, I’m starting to recognize and appreciate what Real Me sounds like and how she’s different from Performing Me.

I take comfort in the friends of Jesus… how they were continually bumbling and misunderstanding, jockeying for power and getting it 100% wrong. Yet Jesus trusted them with All. The. Things. 

2. nature

Get yourself out-of-doors! Let the lovely imperfections of creation teach you.

3. meditation

Don’t be tempted by a special edition of The Performance Game: The Spirituality Expansion box. I’m writing again to myself. The pull of performance and the desire to have others see us as ‘spiritual’ is strong in me. 

So I remind us both: Just sit and breathe. Your mind will wander and distract you with thoughts because that is what minds do. Just keep sitting and breathing. 

Prayer for Today:

Spirit of Life, You are Reality Itself. I so want to be real too. Remind me of the realness in my faith tradition: the women who sang victory, the boy who shared lunch, the friends who stayed close, the dreamers and the pray-ers and the poets. Thank you for the gifts of friendship, simplicity, creation, and breath. Amen.

Getting Started with Our Whole Lives

by Karen Richter

Does your congregation have an Our Whole Lives program for children or adults? Have you thought about it but aren’t sure where to start?

Our Whole Lives (often abbreviated OWL) is a holistic, factual, and values-based set of human sexuality curricula designed and supported jointly by the Unitarian Universalist Association and the United Church of Christ. And OMG…it’s so awesome. Positive and affirming sexuality education is like the Gospel – it’s Good News!

As an Our Whole Lives facilitator and trainer, I see the bedrock of OWL like this: Sexuality is a gift from a loving Creator. Shadow Rock folks have heard me use this language: “When we say that God loves everybody, that means God loves Every Body!” Even when the program is presented as a secular educational opportunity, this life-giving mindset comes through.

Our Whole Lives “angel tree” helps Shadow Rockers feel connected to our OWL program and fills our cabinets with necessary supplies.
Our Whole Lives “angel tree” helps Shadow Rockers feel connected to our OWL program and fills our cabinets with necessary supplies.

 

Want to think about this a bit more? Here are some places to start:

  • Karen’s Our Whole Lives YouTube playlist
    These are not official Our Whole Lives videos, but they can help you start thinking in an OWL-ish kind of way.
  • Facilitator Training
    You can see upcoming training on the UCC’s OWL pages.
    Shadow Rock will host secondary level training (grades 7-9 and 10-12) in November. The training weekend is a great experience – intense and formative – even if you don’t have plans to lead the curriculum immediately.
  • Do some reading! For children, I recommend Robie Harris’s series and Corey Silverberg’s fantastically inclusive What Makes a Baby. For adults, check out Christopher Ryan’s Sex at Dawn: How We Mate, Why We Stray, and What It Means for Modern Relationships. My favorite read of 2018 so far is Sonya Renee Taylor’s The Body is Not an Apology.
  • Reflect a bit on your own sexuality education. What was good about it? What was missing? What are your hopes and dreams for your own children or for the children in your neighborhood and community?
  • Let’s talk! There are very few things that I am more enthusiastic about than Our Whole Lives. If you’re in central AZ, let’s have coffee. If you’re not, shoot me an email and let’s find a time to chat.

Our Whole Lives is a gift TO the United Church of Christ and a gift FROM the United Church of Christ. Let’s make the most of it!

Karen Richter serves on the Board of the Southwest Conference United Church of Christ and is an All-Levels Approved Our Whole Lives Trainer and Facilitator. You can get in touch with Karen via email karen@shadowrockucc.org.

Letting Go

guest post by Rev. Dr. Don Longbottom, South Central Conference Minister

The clock reads a little past 5am and I am sitting on the aisle seat of a Southwest flight to one more meeting.  As I await take off, I am aware that one of my 4 children, Joshua, is in a 25’ sailboat that he has completely rebuilt over the past year.  Josh is, at this moment, crossing the Yucatan Channel that runs between western Cuba and Cancun, Mexico.

The memory of Josh in Superman “underoos” and a cape his mother sewed for him remains crystal clear.  Shortly thereafter, carried away by his imagination, he jumped off the top of a first story balcony. Already a tough kid at five, he was fine, but 35 years later, not much has changed.

Maybe 2 years ago, Josh took a leave of absence from the UCC Kansas Oklahoma Conference, and decided, post-divorce, to take a little sail boat and navigate from Kansas down the Mississippi and out into the Gulf of Mexico.  Eventually, hugging the coastline because the little sailboat belonged only on a lake, he made his way to Pensacola, Florida. “Dad” was not sanguine concerning this “boondoggle.” Having lost one son to SIDS in 1980, I do not live with the luxury of denial. Awful things can and do happen to good people, people that I love.

Call it “kismet,” “God’s providential care,” or even luck, Josh met some characters in Pensacola who make their way in life refurbishing people’s high dollar sailing boats.  Several of these were also “blue water” sailors, free spirits to be sure, who travel the world on the wind, “the breath of God.”  Over the last 18 months they helped Josh to learn the mysterious ways of blue water sailing and sailboats.  It was during this period that he acquired an almost derelict Bayliner 25 he named “Tish.”  As good friends do, and with beer in hand, they gave guidance as he poured himself into the Herculean mission of re-furbishing this vessel.

Continuing his journey, the first big test is crossing from Key West 90 miles to Cuba.  This is a far more challenging task than one may realize. Between Florida and Cuba flows a river of water named the Gulf Stream, which is powerful and unforgiving.  If you’re not competent you can become caught in the current and find yourself swept away from Cuba and out into the Caribbean where not everyone or everywhere is safe.  Weather as well can spoil your crossing as wind and wave can conflict, and when this occurs, 25 feet is not a lot of boat. There is an inherent risk in sailing, especially small boat solo sailing.

My self-serving gift to Josh was a marine equipped Garmin, plus a subscription service that utilizes satellites.  I am able to track my child…anywhere in the world.  It also provides a limited texting platform as well.

Well as “luck” would have it, checking the tracker mid-voyage to Cuba…the track disappeared from the screen.  Dad’s “worst case scenario” mindset immediately kicked in.  I imagined a 600-foot tanker plowing through my son and his boat.  I have a great imagination.  My emergency text to Josh was soon answered, “Calm down Dad, I am fine.”  It was a tech glitch and Garmin provided a fix.

The moral of this extended narrative is that your five-year-old in “Underoos” is still that same child in your heart no matter their age.  I have tried to teach my children to take a big bite out of life, question authority, chart your own course, fear no man and live your life to the fullest.  But, I must admit that it is hard to let go!  I am blessed by strong-willed, fiercely independent children who are good human beings and I would not change a thing.  But it is hard to let go! The love of a parent (biological or otherwise) for their children is as strong a current as there is anywhere anytime.

Here, at last, is my point.  I do not care what party or President.  I do not care be it an Obama, a Bush, a Clinton, or a Trump.  Any government that would take a child from its mother or father’s arms, (save for abuse) is morally reprehensible.  Jesus said, “Let the children come unto me.”  He also noted that anyone harming one of these would be better off to have a millstone tied around their neck and thrown into the sea.

Jesus Christ taught us to turn the cheek when struck and I for one believe that he meant what he preached.  I believe as well that Jesus practiced non-violence, not as a tactic but as a way of life.  Anyone attempting to take my child from me would be the greatest test of faith that I could imagine.  Jesus taught us to be non-violent but he did not teach us to be silent.  It is time to stand up and to speak out!

As I write these final words, Josh is within easy distance of Las Mujeres. He has done well and is safe.  One of his friends from back in Pensacola, Leroy, a true veteran of the sea, watches over Josh’s progress and keeps me aware that all is well.

Thanks be to God for good friends and fair winds.

All Pointed in the Same Direction: Body Acceptance, Grace, Nonviolence, and Our Whole Lives

by Karen Richter

Advent is short this year, y’all. Because Christmas Eve morning is the fourth Sunday in Advent, the season is 6 days shorter than usual! It’s a great time to do something pondering on the incarnation. I like the incarnation as a metaphor to help us have a healthier understanding of sexuality.

I’ve heard lots of people talk about incarnation as a one-time, limited engagement kind of thing – that it’s just about Jesus. I’ve heard lots of people use the incarnation as an exclusionary doctrine to clobber people who believe differently. And I’m not interested in that at all.

I want to make a case for keeping the incarnation… not in a literal “special Jesus” way but in a life-giving metaphorical way.

The shame around sexuality and BODIES in our culture is the best reason to keep the theology of incarnation! The Word became flesh and lived among us for a time (John 1.14)! Full of grace and truth :: when Jesus was fully human he was full of grace and truth. WE ARE TOO. We are full of grace and truth! Who is full of grace and truth? You are, friend!

We know this. This is not new to us… except sometimes this is new to us.

Living it out  – living INCARNATIONALLY – means having a different relationship with our bodies than we are accustomed to. Living it out means treating ourselves and everyone around us in ways that our culture thinks is downright odd.

Living INCARNATIONALLY means “have you lost weight?” is not a compliment. Yeah, you heard me.

Living INCARNATIONALLY means that “I hate my thighs” goes against my faith.

Living INCARNATIONALLY means shoving your 5 year old forward with instructions to “Go kiss Auntie Jean” tears down that child’s body autonomy.

Living INCARNATIONALLY means that a school dress code that shames young women and holds them responsible for the learning environment is offensive and just plain wrong. “What was she wearing?” is always the wrong question… whether the setting is a darkened alley or a college party or a public school classroom.

On the positive side, Living INCARNATIONALLY means that when we show up for one another in embodied ways… with hugs or casseroles, on yoga mats or in the dugout, with fist bumps or shared tears, with birthgiving and diapering and nurturing, and yes, with sexual intimacy…  holy space is created.

Living incarnationally means that when we say God loves everybody… we MUST mean that God loves Every. Body. including our own… or we are liars. I like to say it like this: “God loves Every PERIOD! Body PERIOD!”

OWL - Our Whole LivesSo… The United Church of Christ and the Southwest Conference support Our Whole Lives. We do this for wonderfully practical reasons: because we value our young people, we want them whole and healthy. We want them to experience sexuality as part of God’s good gifts of embodiment and creation. And OWL does a great job at teaching sexual decision-making, values, safer sexual behaviors, and consent. In so many congregations, there are these awesome trained facilitators… they live this out, showing up for our students. At Our Whole Lives here at Shadow Rock, we eat together, we ask questions… we do many ridiculous role plays… It’s so fantastic.

BUT HERE TODAY, I WANT TO TAKE IT FURTHER. I want to move Our Whole Lives, and bodies, and incarnation, and sexuality to the heart of my own faith.

We believe that each human person is unique and unrepeatable. So in the OWL classroom and beyond, we foster a culture of consent… moving through the world in such a way that each person’s individuality is honored.

When consent become part of our basic operating system – when consent is entrenched as part of our core value of JUSTICE – when anything other than consent is anathema to us… we begin to move through the world in a non-harming way.

Consent and body autonomy are part of nonviolence for me. Nonviolence is not just nice (‘nice’ being a pretty low bar) – nonviolence is even beyond kindness (although kindness gets us closer). It’s a way of being – a kind of showing up – that’s marked by life-giving interactions with other earthlings.

Life-giving interactions with other earthlings. I have SO MUCH WORK TO DO on this. My way of showing up is way too often characterized by materialism and greed and arrogance.

But continuing to lead Our Whole Lives, even when the students are a little squirrelly… this helps.

Remembering that at my best, I too am full of grace and truth – this helps.

Being here, with you all in the Southwest Conference, being part of a group of OWL facilitators and trainers that embodies the Our Whole Lives values of Self-Worth, Sexual Health, Responsibility and Justice & Inclusivity… this helps.

Knowing in my heart in my bones that God loves me – that I am part of Every. Body. … this helps.

Our Whole Lives

So in this season of Advent, I invite you to be gentle, to remember how this idea of incarnation  – of the Word becoming flesh – makes us all siblings together, God’s children, full of grace and truth. Amen!

 

Tips for Interacting with Newer Humans, in Your Congregation and in Their Natural Habitats

by Karen Richter

My feminism became much more real when my daughter was born. She’s a native Georgian (with the double name to prove it), born where dressing and grooming your girl child is an expensive and full-time hobby. I was known for being a somewhat relaxed parent (maybe even a slacker), so I got this helpful advice from a friend,

“Oh for gosh sakes, don’t bring her to church with her diaper showing.”

There are, you see, cute, preferably monogrammed, little lace bloomers that one purchases to cover diapers when Baby Girl is wearing a dress.

Gigantic bows and lacy bloomers are not part of family culture in Arizona, for the most part. But it still seems that folks don’t always know how to interact with children in respectful, non-gendered ways. And we so want to make children and families feel welcome in our faith communities! Here are some things to try with young humans in your congregation.

  1. Recognize that children have moods just like adults. I have been in faith communities where the children’s behavior is seen as a direct reflection of the parents’ character. It was not fun. Accept that children don’t always welcome interaction with adults they don’t know well. Smile, and move on. It may be that we can learn something from kids who don’t hide their cranky moods, even at church. They are being real – you can do it too.
  2. Physical touch needs consent. When you see a child upset or sad, ask, “Would a hug or a back pat help?” For happy kiddos, you can say, “Are we fist-bumping today?” This can feel a little awkward at first. Practice… and know that you are doing a small part of changing our culture around consent and body autonomy! Plus it’s good for Safe Church culture. New families and parents visiting for the first time may be wary of adults who seem overly familiar with their children. When safe adults model consent, it makes unhealthy adult behaviors more obviously out-of-the-ordinary and protects all children.
  3. Strive for gender-neutrality. OMGoodness this can be hard! I’ve observed that adults most often make comments to little girls on their appearance and comments about ANYTHING ELSE to little boys! Discipline your reactions; respond mindfully and intentionally. Here are some conversation starters you might try…
    • How are you today? (It’s a classic!)
    • Is there something you’re looking forward to this week?
    • I saw a bunny/lizard/fast car on my way to church this morning! Did you see anything cool?
    • We are singing ‘Blahblahblah’ this morning… it’s my favorite! Do you have a favorite church song?
    • Replace “Boys and Girls” as your default way of addressing a group of children! Try Young Ones, Friends, Beloveds, Children of God… Be creative and find what feels natural for you.
  4. Learn kids’ names and help them learn yours. It feels good to be known by name. Decide how you would prefer to be called by children: Mrs. Smith or Ms. Sally… Mr. Johnson or Bill. Parents may feel uncomfortable with family titles like Grandpa Joe.

Are you cringing, thinking about that sweet kid just the other week whose sparkly shoes and hairbow you complimented? Or are you annoyed… seeing my suggestions as political correctness run amok? I recognize that our culture doesn’t encourage open-minded open-hearted ways of communicating with young humans. It’s a place where we can grow and learn – because there’s never a time in which children don’t deserve our best efforts. We must find ways of talking with one another – at all ages – that are true to the values of inclusion, respect, and inherent human dignity.

Let’s keep talking!