Sr. Wantabee walked to church last night to fill her communion kit for taking communion to shut ins today. On the way home, walking down the alley in her inner city neighborhood she recognized a man she had passed earlier loading his car, now unloading it in her neighbor’s garage. He used a stick to prop his trunk open and so he had caught her attention. They greeted and his story poured out.
Struggling with “a handicap”, he was unable to find work but he was making ends meet and “the good Lord must have a reason to keep him alive.” He took one of the “don’t park on this side of the street” signs and turned it into a guitar and stood at the exit from the freeway dancing to his music. People were getting to know him. Coming home from work, minds burdened with the trials of the day, they would see him dancing at the exit and they would give him a dollar or two and their gloom would leave. Many now recognized him and could not give at the beginning or end of the month when bills needed to be paid but (dare I say) tithed to him midmonth. Others went home and fixed him a sandwich. Police would come by and encourage him and spend time chatting. He is known as Dancing ……. Now he is sweeping the sidewalks in the neighborhood and becoming known. He’s making it, helping people in the way he is able…even though he can’t hold down a job.
Sr. Wantabee reflected as her salary is “support” raised through prayer. People who believe in her and her husband’s ministry send in monthly gifts that enable them to visit shut-ins, give communion, work for the church. How very similar our lives are.
Sr. Wantabee went home encouraged on Palm Sunday that God is present and active in our world in all sorts of ways.
Pietism meets Social Justice
April 2, 2012
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How Can It Be?
August 10, 2011Sr. Wantabee was getting ready to give up her writing career but today calls her to pick up pen again. What’s wrong with this picture?
My church is hosting Camp Noah to help elementary children debrief from the tornado that struck our area several months ago. The normal inactivity of the week has been replaced with a flurry of volunteers, workers and perhaps 50 children. Sr. Wantabee arrives about 8:30 am to help with registration. To her surprise, as she rounds the corner, she sees a young adult man who looks somewhat like the youth worker, hunched down on the curb across the street with a young lady with her head between her hands. They are sitting on the curb of a block that used to be an elementary school but the school was closed and a police training center was established.
A bit confused, Sr. Wantabee and her husband parked the car and headed to the entrance to the church where Noah was standing in garb, welcoming children unloading from the van collecting them. The man on the curb rose and approached Sr. Wantabee. “I’m not a bad person and I’m not begging but my girlfriend hasn’t eaten for three days. Would you have a dollar for a MacDonalds meal?” Sr. Wantabee had a cell phone in her pocket and her glass case with her driver’s liscense in it. Her husband though, pulled out his pocket planner and pulled out their $5. He handed it to the young man. The guy was shocked. Sr. Wantabee warned her husband, you are suppose to give them food, not money. Her husband approached the young man and his friend and took them to MacDonalds.
Sr. Wantabee continued to the entrance of the church. The van driver asked if the couple was ok as he had noted them. The church secretary asked how the couple was as Sr. Wantabee passed into the church as she had been told to call 911 and report the couple. A lady at registration said she had found the couple sleeping under a blanket on the grass and told them they could not loiter.
A distressed young couple, sitting across from a busy church with lots of people who notice them. A young couple, sitting on the curb of a block with a police training school. The solution that comes to mind is to call 911. What’s wrong with this picture?
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Trees and Tornadoes
June 5, 2011Sr. Wantabee lives on the edge of the tornado “disaster zone” in N. Minneapolis.. Blue tarped roofs greet her eyes and crumpled garages, blown out windows and reorganized lives. But the big victim in the zone is the thousands of trees that lay crumpled, blocking roads, fallen on houses, snapped, broken, delimbed, uprooted, roots exposed for the world to see. One or two human lives were lost but thousands of trees gave their lives protecting their homes that they shade from the heat of the day, that they adorn with colorful leaves in the Fall, that they silently stand guard over. How like the “war zones.” She thought of the children who’s lives are changed, innocent victims of violence they don’t understand. She thought of the ripples and reprocussions from our greed and lust that go out and affect the innocent people that stand around us. Sr. Wantabee is very, very, very sad.
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Feminism
March 4, 2011Sr. Wantabee was at the hospital today. During the morning “huddle” with the other chaplains, it so happened that only women were present. The conversation turned to feminism as one of the women had been confronted by a man the day before about her “feminist” approach to life. The man, himself studying to be a chaplain, refuses to read all those labels that define a person on their charts. She, with us, pondered how anyone can engage with another human without applying labels. One woman decided that the man must be white and male and hence has never experienced being an oppressed minority. We chewed the topic for awhile and realized how deeply our feminism impacts our interpretation of life.
Sr. Wantabee headed to the floor. Her last visit was an eighty year old woman who had been in a car accident. The driver of the other car had tail lights covered with mud and snow and so by the time the woman realized he was not moving, it was too late. She lifted her gown to show her bruised body that matched her bruised face. But then her face turned to smile about her family that was supporting her. She had been married 58 years, and in 24 of them had twelve children, all living, and two that have passed. She now has over twenty grandchildren and about ten great grandkids. The physical therapist walked in so Sr. Wantabee begged time for a quick prayer. The woman, a Catholic, only had one wish. She now attends Mass two or three times a week and would love to receive the host. Sr. Wantabee prayed and found the Eucharistic minister and informed him.
A man who refuses to define her as female. A faith that sees her only as female. A family that calls her “mom.”
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The Past
February 27, 2011“The past does hurt, but the way I see it, you either learn from it or run from it,” says Rafiki in Lion King. This is one of Sr. Wantabee’s favorite lines. She met a patient this week who was turning 90 years old, a darling little ole person. The woman shared of her fifty year marriage to a marveleous man she met on the dance floor and who helped her raised her son and their four grandchildren. She had worked faithfully in three or four companies but now was struggling with a body that is beginning to give out. As the story unfolded there was mention of an earlier marriage. In fact the first short marriage that produced the son, kept circling through the conversation. She finally shared that her first husband’s mother was of a different country and that he was actually a wrestler. Sr. Wantabee thought it funny that the past was so present and looked at the patient, “Did he beat you?” The woman teared, “Not really but he did slap me in the face and across the ear.” She left the man to protect herself and her son back in an age when divorce and single parenthood marked a woman. But in God’s grace, she met a wonderful man who enfolded her and her son in his love and honored her faith and family. Yet, now, over 55 years later, the tears still flow. The past does hurt and forgiveness is hard to believe all the time. Perhaps that is why there needs to be a cross to remind us symbolically of God’s love.
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A Landmine Turned Atomic Bomb
January 15, 2011Sr. Wantabee and husband have a simple room for their teenage kids, a boy and a girl. To play on the weekend, we expect a decent attempt at school and a decent attempt to keep your bedroom striaght. A respectful please and thanks are always welcome in exchange for the transport we supply. Friday afternoon her son, who had been down with a migraine headache for two days, perked up to do some homework and one load of wash before dancing out to be with “his crew.” He’d be home by 10 pm. The daughter on the other hand, had attended school, had play practice that went late so went via lightrail to her babysitting job, being retreived by her father at 1 am! But, a messy room. When the son returned, he found the garbage removed from his room and some furniture moved around to get to all the trash. Realizing he would be upset, we did not anticipate the atom bomb that exploded. “It is MY space!!!” “I was going to do it!!!!” The daughter is in bed by 2 a.m. and up at 9 a.m. for a concert performance. On the way, Sr. Wantabee pointed out that the room was not straight, she was tired and so going out priviledges were suspended. Another atom bomb exploded. “That is MY room!!” “I plan to clean it!!!” “My friends and I need to spend an evening unwinding together as we have had a VERY stressful week, MOM!!!!” How did these landmines turn into atom bombs?
As I pondered this and Sr. Wantabee realized she had never had her own room after age 2. She had always shared with her sister or a roommate. She was not adopted and did not realize the importance of a designated voice. Likewise she had been raised by a mother who was a stay-at-home mom, spending her life cleaning and cooking while Sr. WAntabee’s job was to do well at school. As a young adult, she was a professional and had roommates who enjoyed nesting and considered Sr. Wantabee inept. In Kenya, she had maids and supervised housework. Now, back in the States, she has her own home for the first time in her life and at ae 64 is trying to be a professional and feels the responsibility for the home. Even though she may not be a good housewife, she knows it is her realm as she seeks to be professional.
Sr. Wantabee’s husband is an only child who never had to compete for space and who was raised in Africa with maids at home and when at school, everyone had one job in the door. He just does not understand the fuss.
The kids, born in Africa, are the real Americans, greatly gifted far beyond the mother of the 50-60s or the father raised in the bush of Africa. They have not shared space since age 7 ie 11 years and as teenagers feel they have inherited bedrooms from their now 28+ siblings and deserve the same respect and total trust at age 15!
The result, a cultural atom bomb as the three cultures in one family collided over, “Pick up your room if you want to go out.” The blessing of diversity and the tension exploded. Relationships are repaired but… where is the next landmine?
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“NO”
July 17, 2010Two little letters, what can I say
I used them with my daughter the other day.
“Maybe” wasn’t good enough,
Huff and puff, and huff and puff.
Mother, I want to do it, don’t you see,
You must be about as dense can be.
If you really heard my heart,
You’d see my point from the start.
You’d agree of that I’m sure,
If you only your heart were pure.
How can you say “no” to me.
I’m your daughter don’t you see.
I want this thing with all my heart.
Just say “yes” and do your part.
It only costs two hundred bucks,
I’ll pay you back when I have luck.
Mother, “no” is not the word,
Your mind is closed, you’re so absurd.
Why do you have to be this way,
I’ve nothing more to you to say.
You’ve broke my heart
I’m off the chart.
I’m not your friend
I’m round the bend.
I don’t like “no”, I want a “yes”
“Yes” is the answer that is the best.
If you say “yes” then I confess,
I with you will no more mess.
If you say “no” you close the door,
With you I can not say any more.
I close this talk I have with you.
A “no” has made me very blue!
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Avatar Eyes
July 11, 2010Wantabee got to do the children’s sermon this morning. The text was the very familiar “Good Samaritan” story where the lawyer asks Jesus how to get to heaven. Jesus responds by asking what the law says. The lawyer correctly replies that one needs to love God and love neighbor as oneself. Correct. All confirmation students know that. So to justify himself, he asks, “Who’s my neighbor?” Sr. Wantabee and the kids contextualized the story so that the congregation would not fall asleep with a very familiar text.
A principal was chosen and given a very big clock. His job was to walk across the front at the apropriate time and say, “I’m late, I’m late, for a very important date. No time to say hello, goodbye, I’m late, I’m late, I’m late.” Next a teacher was chosen and give a big pair of gloves. Her line was, “I wash my hands of this. It is not my responsibility. I’m not on yard duty.” Lastly the students were to be at a pep ralley because the Minnesota Viking were to play the Green Bay Packers (arch enemies!). Viking reps were given red pieces of paper as their colors are maroon and gold. The other side of the room was given green paper for the Packers. The boy to receive the first piece grimaced and totally drooped to think that he would have to represent the Packers as he was a loyal Vikings fan. (The point was made right there!)
A young Vikings fan was walking to a pep ralley when a neighborhood bulley jumped out of the bushes and grabbed her cell phone, her ipod, her bus pass, her lunch money…everything…roughed her up and ran. Our sheroe lay in the middle of the isle, sobbing, a victim of identity theft with out even ear phones to listen to music.
The principal walked past chanting “I’m late…” The teacher with gloves walked past chanting “I wash my hands of this.” Next came the Green Bay Packers fan, looked at the girl sobbing in the isle, “Oh my gosh, you’re hurt. Let me help you to the nurse’s office.”
Jesus’ question was, “Which person in this story saw the girl with Avatar eyes?” The bulley saw the girl as a source of resources – cell phone, ipod etc. The principal saw the girl as an interruption to his agenda. The teacher saw the girl as not her responsibility. Only the scorned Packer fan saw the girl as a fellow human needing help. Only the Packer could say, “I see you!” The others looked but did not see. Jesus sees us, how will we look at others this week? Will we see them?
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“That Was a Trip!”
July 2, 2010For the last two weeks Sr. Wantabee has been visiting in Los Angeles as a reward for finishing her internship and her first year of teaching ESL. Trips are fantastic because they get you out of your normal setting so you get a different perspective as you search for words to paint a verbal picture of reality for people who live elsewhere.
“Density” took on a new meaning flying into LA, driving on their freeways, and visiting homes. It felt like for every house that had been there in 2002, there were now two, if not three. For every car on the road there were now double the number. Get onto the side streets was a life threatening experience. The glare of neon signs was blinding and confusing. Six lanes of traffic on each side of the freeway can stream along at 70 mph, even at midnight, full!! But somehow in the mass of humanity, motion, lights and sensory grabbers, friends mingle and form a social bubble that keeps them focused.
Meeting with family that knew the “old time” stories from youth, before marriage, before ministry, before whatever brought a whole new level of integration to life. People who hadn’t gotten together, got together because Sr. Wantabee was in town, and stories flew. “Tell me the big fish story again!” “remember the time” “How is…” Hours were spent recreating the past and informing the present.
Thirdly, the “I’ve got your back” phrase took on a new level of meaning. At the supporting church of her husband Sr. Wantabee was able to ask, “And what happens if my husband dies…” (as widows and widowers are now appearing in her social circles.). “We’re aghast you ask! You’re one of us!” We’ll see but those were nice words. And the retirement policy is tied to social security. suddenly Sr. Wantabee realized she was married to a man who is turning 64 next month. How did that happen? The importance of community took on a whole new level of meaning as Sr. Wantabee reflected on her life.
Home? Home is a place she chooses to be because that is where her family, her new friends, and her life calling is now. But those roots from the past that make the present even more wonderful the trip a trip to remember. “That was a trip!”
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Guess Who Came to Dinner
June 18, 2010Sr. Wantabee is in LA! She flew in yesterday, right before the tornado was predicted for her home area and before the earthquakes here. Oh, that’s down in San Diego, her friends said as they walked after all their work together. After walking together to support one of them who needed to walk a half hour a day for a work place competition, they went home and then reconvened a half hour later with others for dinner with Sr. Wantabee. How special is that! These friends and Sr. Wantabee had gotten married the same year back in the 70’s and had stayed connected through her years in Africa and so catching up on kids and family dynamics was definitely on the chit chat agenda.
Sr. Wantabee commented that where she is now, seldom to people get together for dinner nor do the churches have a strong enough middle aged or aging couples group that merits this kind of friendship and so part of coming to LA was to connect socially and be fed. We chatted about the change in church dynamics and social dynamics in our lifetime. Was it because of our new digital TV’s that we cannot figure how to get register with an antenna? Was it the breakup of the family? Was it women working? Was it evangelical vs mainline mentality? It was a roaming conversation through the decades and the changes in social dynamics.
Tonight she will go to one of the couples homes where they host a movie night on Fridays for whoever wants to drop in. They’re following a Alfred Hitchcock theme right now. What fun! Sr. Wantabee is wondering who will come that she can touch base with. Fill my cup Lord and let it overflow!
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On the Way to Wonder 