A Day Without Running Water

 Today I had an experience that stopped me in my tracks.

For over 6 hours, there was no running water in my apartment.  A water main had broken down the street, and the city shut off the water on our side of the break until they could get it fixed.

Justin was off today and I was just getting off work around noon when he texted me and told me that the water was shut off.  I quickly made a beeline for the nearest restroom before heading out to my car!

I had quite the experience when I got home.  Justin said the toilet tank had enough water in it for just one more flush.  We could add more water to the tank, but the grand total for bottled water in the apartment at that moment was only about two and a half gallons.  If the water stayed shut off for longer than a day, we would have to either pay through the nose for bottled water at the store or get creative and fill up our gallon jugs elsewhere.

When the water came back on late in the afternoon, I immediately decided two things:

1.)  I had never been this grateful for running water in my life!  (I’m so glad no one was there to see the look on my face when we could FINALLY flush the toilet!)

2.)  I had never been this adamant about stocking up on bottled water for the future.

I wanted to share this because it caught me completely off-guard.  If the water had to stay off for longer than a day, it would’ve been a huge headache because we weren’t as prepared as we could be.  So let me step up on the “emergency preparedness” soapbox just long enough to say this:

Do yourself and your family a huge favor.  Stock up on as much bottled water as is reasonable for your living situation.  You don’t know when you might need it.

Alright, I’m stepping down from the soapbox now :).

When Homelessness Has a Name

During the past few weeks, I have been experiencing something that I have no grid for.  I have wanted to share this ever since it started, but I had been holding back for a couple of reasons.  First of all, I wasn’t sure how much I should share about this on the internet.  Second of all, I have been skeptical as to whether or not the readers would be able to wrap their minds around this.  But since M. decided she wants her story out there, I figure I should take the plunge and just tell it like it really happened.

 In the past few weeks, I have developed a friendship with a woman who is homeless. 

 Before this beautiful relationship came into my life, my understanding of homelessness and homeless people was pretty limited.  I have plenty of junk in my background, but I have never been in a place where I needed to worry about having a roof over my head, food to eat, and clothes to wear.  I always had enough.  I grew up surrounded by people who, for the most part, always had enough.  I knew that there were people in the world who did not have enough, who were “down on their luck.”  Like most average middle-class people, I didn’t look at them as being ordinary people in the same sense as me.  I did little things to help here and there, but I’m sad to say that was it for the longest time.

 Then something happened that changed everything.

 Homelessness got a name.  M.  (For security purposes I am using an initial, at least for the time being.)  Once homelessness got a name, it was no longer this abstract condition that affected thousands of people I knew nothing about.  It became a very real problem that was making life a nightmare for this woman and her two children.  Like many women, M is homeless as a result of leaving a domestic violence situation.  Not only do the three of them not have a home, but M is trying to navigate her way through a social service system that is essentially structured to work against the people it’s supposed to serve. 

 As M’s story unfolded, I began to get very angry at the church.  I reached out to several church leaders, in my own church as well as collectively.  For the most part, I was met with indifference.  For the sake of the other members of my congregation, I’m glad I lack the upper body strength needed to flip the tables in the great hall, because this past Sunday I definitely had a “Jesus flipping the tables in the temple” moment.  Both Christian and secular organizations seem to bend over backwards to address socioeconomic problems overseas.  But if you mention homelessness happening in your own state, people look at you like you have three heads.

 At this point, you’re probably wondering, what does she want me to do with all this?  I don’t have a straightforward answer to that question.  You need to search your heart and ask yourself what would be the best course of action.  Maybe you’ll decide to start by educating yourself on homelessness in your state or nation.  Maybe you’ll decide to volunteer at a homeless shelter so you can shatter your stereotypes about homeless people.  Maybe you need to talk with other people who have worked with the homeless in one way or another.  Maybe you need to do more in terms of activism.  Change.org is a great place to start.  I don’t care what you do, but I do want to challenge you to do something. 

 If there was just one thing I want everyone to take away from my interaction with M, it would be this:

 Homeless people are people just like us.  They are no better or worse than people who have a permanent address.  They have likes, dislikes, strengths and weaknesses.  They have things that make them laugh and things that make them cry.  They have favorite movies and foods.  They have quirks.  They have the same need of companionship and connection.

They are just like us.  So this is a problem that should break our hearts. 

Jesus Wept: Pondering the Absence of Grief in Western Culture

I know I’ve been horribly inconsistent in my blogging.  As I said in my recent love/hate update, I am currently going through a lot of experiences that I don’t have much of a grid for.  I think the only thing to do is take it one step at a time and write about things as I have the words for them.

One of the things I am wrestling with is the issue of grief.  You probably cringed as you read that sentence.  Grief is not acceptable in our culture.  But my dear grandmother is at the end of her life, so it’s just around the corner for me, culturally acceptable or not. 

Recently, I had a couple of interesting conversations about grief that I want to write about.  The first friend I talked to, who is much older than I am, told me that she chose to wear an article of black clothing every day for a year after her father passed away.  This external symbol of grieving acted as a spiritual discipline of sorts.  This really resonated with me, as I will probably want to wear black for at least a little while after my grandmother’s passing. 

Then I was explaining this to another friend who is also in her twenties.  She commented that wearing black as a symbol of grieving is old-fashioned, but since I like a lot of things that are considered old-fashioned, she was not surprised that I wanted to consider it.

This response is what I want to talk about.  No offense to my friend, but this is the typical Western view of the subject of mourning.  I want to point out this little known fact:

It is only in Western culture that external symbols of grief are considered abnormal, inappropriate, or out-of-date.  In Jewish culture and other cultures, expressions of grief are perfectly normal and acceptable.

Here in the West, grief is not something we know how to handle.  So we respond the way we always respond when we are faced with something that’s uncomfortable:

We ignore it.  And usually things go okay.  For a little while.

Then the grief starts to grow like cancer, slowly damaging our minds and our hearts.  And as it grows, it evolves into anger, depression, anxiety, numbness, or any combination thereof. 

Grief that is expressed and addressed in a healthy way will not grow into any of those things.  If you have lost a family member or a pet, you have to find a way to express your pain. 

And that is why I will wear black for as long as the Lord leads.  It will be my way of saying, “The world just lost a wonderful person who was very important to me.  I’m not okay right now, but I will get to the point where I can live with it.” 

I plan to do more research on the Jewish customs for mourning.  If you know of any books or webpages that would be helpful, please post a comment!

Love/Hate Update for 2/13/13

I know I have been beyond horrible in terms of blogging consistency.  I have been going through a lot, spiritually and otherwise, and I haven't been sure of what to share and what is best kept off the internet.  I have been having a lot of thoughts and honest questions on headcovering and other subjects.  I want to blog about all that as soon as I can get my thoughts together.  For now, I will do another love/hate update for the past couple weeks. 
 

Loves:

-a wonderful birthday date night with my husband!

-my dad has been done with chemo for over a month

-being able to stay connected with my sister via texting and the internet

-the birthday box I received from my sister today

Hates:

-feeling the unpopularity that comes with being Christian and anti-military and anti-violence, especially with the rising number of professing Christians who want to rush out and buy guns

-having lots of honest questions about spiritual matters and not knowing where to find the answers

-all the prejudice, misunderstanding, and animosity I receive from professing Christians because of my decision to cover my head.  I expect that from non-Christians, but I get it from Christians way more often.

Quarter of a Century Celebration! (A.K.A., 25 Random Things About Me)

 In celebration of the fact that I have been hanging out on this planet for 25 years, I've compiled a list of 25 random things about me.  I'm sure there are people out there who see this as a sign that I'm incurably self-absorbed.  I respectfully disagree.  I have taken some pretty hard knocks in my life.  It took awhile to get to the point where I could see in myself the same person that God and all my loved ones see.  Being in the place where I was able to make this list was a bigger step than you might think.

So, without further ado, here are my 25 random things!

1.)  My right thumb is double-jointed.

2.)  I’ve fractured my collarbone, my finger, and my hand.

3.)  I started reading when I was 3.

4.)  I’m terrified of snakes, spiders, and cancer.

5.)  I hate bananas, but I love banana bread. Go figure!

6.)  I played the flute for 7 years in grade school.

7.)  This dates me, but one of my favorite TV shows as a kid was “Lamb Chop’s Play-Along.”

8.)  In my dreams, I am always hearing.  I don’t remember ever having a dream in which I was wearing hearing aids.

9.)  My favorite color is green.

10.)  I love Italian food and I want to learn how to cook more Italian dishes.

11.)  I met my husband while laying sod at the church I was attending at the time.  Our gardening tools smacked into each other.  I kid you not!

12.)  I started writing when I was in 6^th grade.

13.)  I love all things peppermint.

14.)  I am about half British/Scottish and a quarter German.  The remaining quarter of my ethnicity consists of Swedish, Norwegian, and Irish.  There may be some Finnish in there, too.

15.)  I learned to knit when I was 6.

16.)  My hair was light blonde when I was a kid.

17.)  The year I was born was a leap year, and I was due on leap day!

18.)  The two most common misconceptions people have about me are that I am left-handed and I’m a vegetarian.  No idea how either of those got started!

19.)  My younger sister and I have been mistaken for twins on more than one occasion.  That always cracked us up, since we’re two and a half years apart and look nothing alike!

20.)  I am definitely a small-town person.

21.)  I don’t touch raw cookie dough.  I got food poisoning from it once.

22.)  I’ve had a round of braces and I’m currently on my second night-time retainer.  Apparently my teeth are as free-form as the rest of me!

23.)  I have attended just about every type of school there is: public, Montessori-style, parochial, and a homeschooling-type program.  My best experiences were in the public schools and the private Montessori-style school.  Parochial was, hands down, the worst.

24.)  I’ve gone sea-kayaking off the coast of Alaska

25.)  I have gone without makeup since my wedding day in 2011, and even then I only wore a little bit.  I love having a “naked” face!