No People Are Uninteresting

I wanted to share my favorite poem. This is most definitely connected to my last blog post (Let The Great World Spin). It is by a man named Yevgeny Yevtushenko.

No people are uninteresting.
Their fate is like the chronicle of planets.

Nothing in them in not particular,
and planet is dissimilar from planet.

And if a man lived in obscurity
making his friends in that obscurity
obscurity is not uninteresting.

To each his world is private
and in that world one excellent minute.

And in that world one tragic minute
These are private.

In any man who dies there dies with him
his first snow and kiss and fight
it goes with him.

There are left books and bridges
and painted canvas and machinery
Whose fate is to survive.

But what has gone is also not nothing:
by the rule of the game something has gone.
Not people die but worlds die in them.

Whom we knew as faulty, the earth's creatures
Of whom, essentially, what did we know?

Brother of a brother? Friend of friends?
Lover of lover?

We who knew our fathers
in everything, in nothing.

They perish. They cannot be brought back.
The secret worlds are not regenerated.

And every time again and again
I make my lament against destruction.

Yevgeny Yevtushenko

Let The Great World Spin

I am reading a new novel called, Let The Great World Spin by Colum McCann. Danggggg.
So, I started this while in Hawai'i and am now in the middle. A lot is going through my mind.
Parallels, revelations, insights, convictions.
Once I sort them all out, I will share.

For now, I will just tell you that the story is surrounding an event on August 7th, 1974. A man named Philippe Petit, a french acrobat, tightrope walked between the 110 story Twin Towers in NYC.

But more profoundly, the story is about moments that make you stop; make you really "be", make you connected to people around you, moments that incompass the sense of loneliness or the sense of interconnection we can feel if we seek it out (if we let it). The book follows several people who one day, in the biggest and most lonely city of all, look up to see this tight-rope walker. This moment is described with lyrical beauty in the book and is the glue between the characters.

This is important to me right now. I've been thinking a lot about it. About people. About our connections to each other. (About our lack of connections to each other).


I keep getting drawn to this theme. So much that I find myself at Old Toad some nights, with a German beer in one hand writing movie ideas and themes in my moleskin with the other (I don't even write movies, I don't ever think about writing movies). But I can't shake this.

I've been looking at people and wondering about their life. About how they got to that particular restaurant that night. About why they are eating alone. What they had for breakfast. What kind of milk is in their fridge.  I see people on first dates and wonder what their previous relationships have been like. I fast forward their relationship that hasn't even started yet in my mind as they are talking (as I'm watching them like a creep from the corner, scribbling notes in my journal, remember?) and imagine their next 6 months. On a screen in my minds eye I play over dates at the beach, picnics, movie nights, meeting parents, and a sad breakup. (Or happy marriage?).


I see people and wonder if they are on match.com
I watch men check out at Wegmans at 1am with TV dinners and wonder if they are divorced. I wonder where they work.
I see a group of young men at the bar discussing life, school loans, and college and wonder if they are almost graduated; on the brink of a new life undiscovered. I connect myself to these emotions they must be having, these seasons I have already passed or haven't been to yet. Many times I get the sense that we all pass through the same seasons. It's an odd feeling. Mine is gone. Mine is something new. But once I was in your season. And soon you will be in mine. Or you are in that season now, but I won't be there for another 40 years. Maybe you remember mine now? Maybe you forgot. But here we are in the same moment of time. Different seasons. Different beers. Same Old Toad.
I sit around restaurants, pubs, parks...and I just want to find these things out. Most of all, I want to introduce a game of Taboo or Guesstures and bring us all together for one night.
Is that weird?
So what.

Ever seen Wall-E? Don't make fun! That silly Disney movie gets more profound every time I see it. Sometimes I think we are headed in that direction. In a world where we don't really even see people, where we can be right next to each other but we're watching and interacting through screens. Where friendships are comprised of facebook comments, picture "likes", text messages, and wall posts.

I want to know if your water is too hot.

I want to know what board in your floor always creaks.

I want to know what you think about when you are all alone.

I want to know your favorite spot to read.

(Reminds my of my favorite poem posted in one of my other blog posts.)

I want to imagine a world where we somehow are all connected. Movies like Crash. Movies like Requiem For a Dream (but a little less intense, geesh. That movie messed me up!).

And I think I just really like that this man decided to do this. That for one moment in a city where everyone is in their own world, he brought them together. To have the air be suddenly shared. People started talking, started looking at each other, started cementing a shared memory they'd have the rest of their lives.
That he was just crazy enough to want that to happen.

"All the lives we could live, all the people we will ever know, never will be, they are everywhere. That is what the world is."'

-Aleksandar Hermon, The Lazarus Project

Just something I'm thinking about.

xoxo,

mp

Health Care

So, I'm uneasy writing about my feelings on health care (or politics/international affairs/etc). I don't by any means want this to become a forum to pontificate. So instead, I wanted to address this more as an experience I had. Make no mistake, I definitely have an opinion about it. However, I also don't consider myself an expert on the intricate details of government policies. I realize there isn't a silver bullet. I realize it's been paved by a lot of corruption and self-interest. But I, like many others, am just trying to wade my way through the mess and come to a conclusion that's just. I guess the angle I am coming at this with is more of a 25 year old, single, female who got really sick one day.
(Whew.)

I want to confess something. I am an over-privileged, Caucasian, female who has never appreciated health care before. How could I really understand it's value? I am rarely sick and when I am, it's quickly remedied. A few weeks ago, I realized how much of a basic need and right health care is.

I'm a little stubborn (all confessions are pouring out). I became sick, thought I could fight it off, waited too long to take care of congestion, and ended up with an ear ache/tooth ache/pretty nasty sinus infection (that could have just been a head cold). It's not like I was lately removed from a gall bladder. But you'd be surprised how scary a seemingly small thing like a sinus infection can be.

And there I was smack dab in the middle of a Sunday afternoon. I was desperate. I was feeling awful. I needed to see a physician.

Luckily, I have a new housemate to help me out while I was a hot mess looking through google for urgent care. (Here comes confession # 3) I chose the one in Victor. That must be "safe", right? So there I am, eyes closed in the passenger seat driving to Victor's Urgent Care, using Kimberly's windshield sun shade as an eye protector, head pounding, tooth hurting, and miserable.

And it's about this time I realized just how lucky I was.
I didn't worry about whether or not they would take my health insurance. My health insurance is fantastic.
I didn't worry about health insurance at all. I'm not one of the 47 million Americans without insurance.

But I was at the mercy of urgent care,
Thrown amidst a world of paperwork and cold receptionists (how dramatic sounding).
I was cattle.
Pushed through the doors, quickly inspected, and even more quickly pumped full of antibiotics.
And listen, I'm grateful for it all.
I'm definitely not complaining.

But I realized how special my mom is. She is one of those nurses who meets you in the waiting room at your time of crisis on a Sunday afternoon, warm smile and big hug.

My nurse wasn't like that.
But at least I had a nurse.
At least I had urgent care.
At least I had a prescription.
At least I had health insurance.
At least I had a car to get to Wegman's.
At least I had a Wegman's (everyone should have a Wegman's).

And in the middle of this juxtaposition; feeling so lucky and so frustrated, I got my prescription 15 minutes later.
Copay?: 0 dollars.

What if I was a 25 year old, separated, mother of 5, living alone with the same symptoms, no vehicle, and no health insurance.

I really appreciate health care. But, it's hard not to feel guilty. Maybe guilty is the wrong thing to feel. But in a world where there's a dearth of empathy...I'd rather feel guilty than nothing.
And more importantly, in addition to feeling something, I really want to DO something. 

Without getting bitter.

With a level head.

With character and integrity.

But with passion.

So what do we do?

(let me know if you figure it out.)

Just something I've been thinking about...
xoxo,
mp



Melt Me

(Picture by Lara Jade. Taken from my friend Bethany)

 "I'll take my cold, cold heart. I'll take my un-renewed mind. I'll take Your Word in my hand and then I'll give You time to come and melt me." -Misty Edwards

God is melting me, my heart, my pride, my inability to accept love.

I remember years ago a conversation I had with Jesus. It came from a very honest place in my heart. It went something like this:

Me: Jesus, everyone talks about how much they love You. I don't think I can say that. I don't think I love You. When I say it out loud, it feels silly. It feels weird. It feels fake. I'm sorry.

Jesus: ....

Me: I want to love You. Actually, I don't think I even know You. I want to know you, too.

Jesus: ...

Me: Jesus, I really want to know what it's like to LOVE YOU. To KNOW YOU. To be able to really say "I love you, Lord".

Jesus: ...

The Misty Edwards song goes on to say, 

"I can't even love You unless you call my name. I can't even worship unless you annoint my heart, God. I can't even want You unless you want me first. Come fan the flame."

Well, if I've learned anything in this walk with the Lord it's that when you are raw and open with the Lord, when your requests to Him match His desires...they are answered in some radical ways. Not long after this prayer, I came into a season that I think back on now with a few key words, "Jealous love, pursuit, faithfulness, beloved" This was the season Jesus started to show me He is captivated by me, that He created me, that He is in love with my heart, that He delights in me even right where I am. He started to prove to me His faithfulness, and speak to my heart in daily things. This was when I started talking about "Jesus kisses". Ask anyone around me and they will tell you how crazy I sounded back then. Sometime, I'll talk more about this concept that was coined. Basically, it's as if you have a boyfriend wooing you with gifts and tokens of affection except the boyfriend is Jesus and He makes sunsets and heart-shaped leaves instead of chocolates for you.

So, Jesus started wooing me. And just like any relationship, there comes a point when you are captured by all of the beautiful, butterfly-type love; the esthetically pleasing things. And then it gets serious. Commitment is asked of you and issues bubble up. At the core, I didn't understand unconditional love and faithfulness. And this was when He began to prove Himself faithful. Like a boyfriend proving to a girl he loves, who has been hurt too much, that he is unlike the others and will never go anywhere, Jesus began very consistently showing me that nothing I could do would ever push Him away.

And believe me, I tried to push Him away.

I cheated, I lied, I held back love, I ignored, I got angry. But at the core of all of this was just distrust. I didn't believe that He was really faithful. I thought that eventually I would do something and He would leave. But He says that, "neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Romans 8:39). I think it might be appropriate to also had in there "yourself" in terms of the "anything else in all creation". We really get in there and mess it up.

Ever met someone who is hell bent on destroying something good out of fear? Maybe things are going really well but you don't think it can really happen. It's called self-destructive behavior. (ha) I may have been trying to ruin this thing subconsciously. Not because I didn't want it but because I so desperately did. If He really is who He says He is and He really does what He says He does and He really thinks about me what He says He thinks about me...than He has power over me. Power to disappoint, power to hurt, power to leave me vulnerable. After all, everyone else has left, has cheated. At some point I become too much for everyone else, why is He different? Well, He is.

And in the middle of this season of our relationship, after the excitement and request for commitment, and testing of His love...He reminds me of where we started. The little inside secrets we had. The "Jesus kisses", the wooing, the whispers about balloons that He ignited in my heart.

Listen, I don't know why I love balloons, ok. It just came out of nowhere, but I'm obsessed. 

And here is the end of my story (or beginning maybe?).

The other day I was driving past an abandoned building I had gone to with some friends and explored. I go by this building often. The other day, I drove by and looked as I always did and what I saw almost brought me to tears. Right next to the building, for no other reason that a blatant Jesus kiss there were 7-10 colored, ginormous, helium balloons staked into the ground. So what else could I do? I dragged my housemate out with me and I investigated. And I stole one.

 

I want to cry just now even thinking about it. And look, some of you may be thinking, "Listen, you emotional hot mess, it's just balloons by a building." And maybe you're right. But maybe, just maybe, the whispers in secret between you and the Maker of Your desires could actually be orchestrated into a random display of devotion and understanding. You see, He is the only one who really knows me. He knows me so much that before I understand why I love this balloon-thing, He understands. 

And what else do we really desire in life than to truly be known by someone?

If this is all true, it's scandalous.

That means that after all the times I turned on Him, traded Him in for a more immediate physical relationships, infidelity on my part, disbelief, and anger...He still looked foolish for my sake. He layed down what everyone else would say He deserved...and He chose me. He pursued me instead.

And it worked.

Something in me recognizes that although it's hard to accept, He is not going anywhere.

That a God that I can't see and that I can't touch really speaks to me and passionately pursues me.

That a God that created sunsets with the brush of His hand is jealous over my heart.

What now?

My first blog I ever posted on here talked about sending unrealistic expectations of ourselves and others as well as anxieties up in a balloon. And I think it's appropriate I do it now.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Maybe, this week, look for some "Jesus kisses". They're different for everyone.

Maybe, this week, stop fighting it.

I'm going to let Him melt me.

xoxo

mp

PS- The adventure ended with a quote from Kimberly pretending we were about to get caught my a cop as we walked back to my car. It went something like this, 

"Hello officer. What had happened was, my hippie Jesus freak friend thought Jesus put these balloons out here for her. So we drove out here, illegally parked in this vacant, off-limit lot, trespassed private property, stole city property, and returned to the car with said contraband because Jesus told her to. You understand, right?"

I love her.

Plodding Through the Mist.

 (Source)

Much-Afraid is a character in a book I have been reading entitled Hinds Feet on High Places. At this point in the allegorical novel, she has overcome a lot of different obstacles on her journey to the High Places. Fear has crept in, lies have been listened to, and many tears have been shed. Every time, however, she has learned a valuable lessons and has moved on to the next step in her journey. And right when I'm feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, when I am soaking in all the ineffable beauty that is Jesus in this book, page 144 reminds me of a scary part inside myself:

"She began to realize that, cowardly though she was, there was something in her which responded with a surge of excitement to the tests and difficulties of the way better than to easier and duller circumstances. It was true that fear sent a dreadful shuddering thrill through her, but nevertheless, it was a thrill, and she found herself realizing with astonishment that even the dizzy precipice had been more to her liking than this dreary plodding on and on through the bewildering mist.
In some ways the dangers of the storm had stimulated her; now there was nothing but tameness, just a trudge, trudge, forward, day after day...
 able to see nothing except for white, clinging mist which hung about the mountains without a gleam of sunshine breaking through"

When I came across this part in the book, I had already been thinking a lot about the moments that make up our hours, our days, our lives.  I had actually, only days earlier, posted a status on facebook that read,

"While the 'highs' are exciting, and the 'new' is refreshing...most of your life is determined by how well you handle the boring, the seemingly unimportant, the ordinary moments, and your determination to really commit to the things that are not, at least at that time, 'exhilarating'."

I feel like God is whispering this to me now. Preparing me for a season to come. You see, up until this point it has all been exciting. Everyday is a new adventure with Him, or a lesson to be learned, or trials to go through, or sacrifices to make. It's painful, it's hard, but as Much-Afraid put it, "the dangers of the storm stimulated me".

And that's not to say it won't be exciting again or that it won't be exciting a lot-it will. But I have just cut a lot of strings. Those things that held me down, tripped me up, kept me in the same cycles of behavior and thinking-they're gone. But those were also some of the strings that kept it exciting. Painful excitement, but excitement. And so what's left?

Maintenance. Commitment. 

Remembering what the Lord said last time He said something and sticking to it. Realizing the small moments of dullness and obedience are just as important as the larger more exciting moments of fire and trial. That the moments in the secret place are more important than the moments everyone can see.

And you know what? Maybe if I commit to the unexciting I will develop the character I so very much want in the mundane. Maybe if I cherish doing things in the secret, I won't care as much about anyone seeing them done outside. Maybe I will start to look at the small moments different. I want to have integrity and decency in those small moments when no one else is looking. Those moments I am responding to crazy Rochester drivers or Wegman's line budgers. After all, there are far more opportunities for those than for one moment I will change the world.

I think life is made up of a lot of little moments.

So this week, I'm going to really pay attention to and not despise the times where I'm putting away groceries, doing dishes, getting up again at 6am, taking another shower, doing attendance, getting up again at 6am, secretly blessing a friend in need, taking another shower, doing more dishes, etc. Also, I'm going to look for opportunities inside those moments to be kind, patient, and glorify God.

And when too many of these moments build up without some thrill or adventure from Jesus, I'm going to commit to the daily trudge anyway; day after day. Even when it's boring, even when I don't want to.

Because I think that really makes up your person.
Anyone can do it when it's exciting or there's an audience.
I want to be able to follow Him when it's not.
I want to be able to glorify Him when no one else sees it but Him.

Laura Hackett put it well,
"I will not build my life upon the passing sands of how I feel inside from one moment to the next. But I will love you Lord, my Rock, my God, my Strength. A precious cornerstone."

xoxo,
mp

Palm It.

Happy May 1st! I love the beginning of each month. It feels like a fresh start.

Here is a quick lesson I learned yesterday while a few friends and I took a walk in this wonderful weather;

you can only do it if you lean on someone else.

My new housemate showed me a trick. We were walking on the railings together, both flopping and falling off, arms outstretched like a bird trying to maintain our balance. The funny thing is, we really couldn't do it. I was stubborn, though. I kept trying because surely I could muscle my way through it or acquire the skills necessary to learn how. Jokes on me.

Just then she tells me to stretch out my arm, as she did with hers, and said to me "palm it".

It's called weight-sharing. Get this; the idea is...you share the weight (ha). It creates an easier sense of balance.

So arms stretched out, palms pushed together, we slowly started walking on opposite ends of the track.

And you know what? It worked. We walked. It was so easy. And it was fun.

I learn a lot from the "silly little things". God uses those to teach me really big lessons more than anything else.

So, thank you everyone in my life that frequently practices this with me.  This weekend (or for life, rather)- palm it.