Butterscotch Candy and Feelings of Home

I'm nearly 35. And to this day, I don't pop a butterscotch candy into my mouth without thinking of my Grandma. She loved those things. But more than her love of those candies, I think about her dentures. I remember asking her,
"Grandma, why do you have fake teeth?"
With a glimmer in her eye, her response was, "I liked candy too much when I was a little girl."
That raised a lot of important questions. How much candy is too much? What if you space the candy out evenly over a long time? Will that still cause me to lose my teeth? She would just smile and dig another butterscotch out of her sweater pocket for me.

My other Grandma lived in a tiny two-bedroom condo. When my seven-member family would descend on St. Louis and stay at her condo, it was packed to the gills and was bustling with her and our excitement. She was up making breakfast before I was awake, she was up when I went to bed, and she packed our days with good things. To this day, if someone asks what my favorite city is, my default answer is still St. Louis. But it was never St. Louis that felt like a second home, it was my Grandma.

Both of my Grandmas passed away within the last three weeks, and that has left me feeling sad. Not sad for them, they were both ready. But sad for myself, and sad for my family.

I've had some good time to reminisce about my Grandmas with both sides of my families. And while there are memories that are only mine, and there are memories that are only other's, all of the memories have similar themes.

As I think back on my lifetime with both of my Grandmas, I can't remember one single time that really stands out as THE defining moment when they made a difference in my life or the ONE important conversation that impacted my life.

Instead, it was simply how they lived their lives that made the difference.

I think that each of us will have moments where we are the people who spark a defining moment in someone else's life, or when we are the person with the right words.

But, for the most part, our job is to live our lives in such a way.

In such a way that people know that they are loved. In such a way that people know that they are good and good enough. In such a way that people are left better for having rubbed shoulders with us.

When I was younger I wanted to be someone important. Now I just want to be someone who bleeds love and kindness. Let other people be famous and important, I just want to be me.

And a maybe just a little bit like my Grandmas.

I'm okay, thank you for asking!

“I’m okay, thank you for asking!”

“I’m okay, thanks!”

“I’m okay…”

“I’m OK!”

“Why do you keep asking? I’m okay.”

Why do I run from my brokenness? Because let me assure you, I am broken. Maybe I run from it because my brokenness looks frivolous next to yours, or hers. Or maybe I run from it because to engage it makes me afraid that I will lose all semblance of control. Or, most likely, I run from it because I am unwilling to admit to myself, on a deep level, that I am broken.

“I’m broken, thank you for asking!”

“I’m broken, thanks!”

“I’m broken…”

“I’m BROKEN!”

“Why do you keep asking? I’m broken.”

I’m getting more and more comfortable with this idea. I’m learning to be okay with not being okay. There is freedom in there somewhere.

“Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies,

it remains alone;

but if it dies, it bears much fruit.”

As long as we are all okay, or, as long as we all pretend we are okay, we won’t be able to connect with each other on anything other than a surface level. I don’t connect with your “okayness.” I connect with how you are broken – like me.

So, yeah, I’m okay. But, I’m also not okay. How about you?

Grace to the Liars, Thieves, Cheaters, and Murderers, but not to those who I disagree with on Politics.

I have to talk about politics for a minute. How could I not? I mean, I know I surely haven’t heard enough on the news in the last year. So I’m assuming that you are chomping at the bit to hear another perspective.

*Come back and insert a lot of angry rhetoric here later*

Anger. That is the word to describe politics and the US right now. SO much anger. And I admit, I catch myself fluctuating between anger and apathy. I read an article and I get angry, so I switch off and fall into apathy.

I don’t think either is good.

The articles, the tweets, and the comments are ugly. “You Can Be A Christian Or A Liberal, But Not Both” or “You can’t be Christian and against Refugees.”

And I’m left with feeling that there needs to be an all-out attack on finding common ground. The Christian left and the Christian right are so far apart right now. Maybe that distance has always been there, but events of the last year have just highlighted the distance.

What are we to do? What am I to do?

Extend Grace.

But you read the headlines above and it feels like a lot more needs to be done. And since I’m a man of action I came up with a couple things that I’m trying and going to try to do to bridge this gap.

1)    Aim for understanding. There is a lot of talking going on, but not a lot of listening happening. - Why do people feel and think the way they do? - It’s okay to disagree. It’s okay to feel that someone is wrong and to disagree with them. But I need to aim for understanding them. To hear them. I understand that some of us are supposed to be bold and to speak out against what we think is wrong, but can we do this with love instead of anger?

2)    Repent of my arrogance. This is a hard one isn’t it? But I need to. I have strong convictions and I won’t apologize for those. However, when these convictions cause me to be judgmental and hateful (violent), which they often do, I need to repent. I need to repent of my pride that severs relationships with people I love.

As with everything that I write, I’m not writing because I have the answers. I’m writing because I want to find the right questions and to move in what I think might be the right direction.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this.