Coming this March…

There are some moments in our life that stand out more then others, our first kiss, the first time we see our parents cry and know that we are the cause, the moment we recognize our passion and calling and move towards the path of fulfilling it, or the first time we take a sip of coffee and understand that if everything in life falls apart this one thing is worth living for. (Maybe that last one is just me).

In February of 1983, I had a moment that would come to define me as a person. It was, in one moment,  a tragic adolescent event of near biblical proportions –pause for dramatic effect — and has become a touchstone for my understanding of compassion and empathy.

It was Valentines Day, and I was in love.

“I am glad it cannot happen twice, the fever of first love. For it is a fever, and a burden, too, whatever the poets may say.” 

― Daphne du Maurier, ‘Rebecca’

I sat at my desk, watching each kid walk to the front of the room to collect their valentines bags, the day before each one of us had been given a white paper bag, red and pink construction paper and the instructions to decorate a bag that would be taped to the chalk tray of the blackboard, then tomorrow, on Valentines Day each person will put their valentine cards in each students bag, a ritual that was repeated year after year in elementary schools all over America. This year I was especially proud of both my choice of Valentines Day cards and my bag decorating skills. I had convince my mom the night before at Walgreens to shell out the extra buck so I could get the more expensive E.T. (the Extra Terrestrial) cards, each one depicting a different scene from the movie.  My favorite was the card with all the kids taking off on their bicycles, flying above the cop cars and FBI agents with the words “Love is in the Air” written on the bottom.  I was saving that one particular card for her, Gina Carroll, the love of my life. I stood there in the card aisle, staring at the picture of E.T. sitting in the basket on the front of Elliot’s bike, blanket draped over his head so that his big alien eyes stuck out, and thought of Gina’s big brown eyes looking back into mine. She would read the card and know how I felt, and she would confess her undying love for me and the two of us would hop on our own bikes and fly into the sky only instead of using the telekinesis of a marooned alien, we would soar into the clouds on the waves of our mutual affection.

Or at the very least I could get her to kiss me behind the equipment shed at recess.

Elliot: He’s a man from outer space and we’re taking him to his spaceship. 

Greg: Well, can’t he just beam up? 

Elliot: This is *reality*, Greg.

-From E.T. the Extra Terrestrial 

One by one my fellow 4^th graders walked to the front of the room and peered into their bags as they pulled them off the wall and walked back to their desk to wait. Our teacher Mrs. Fenderdine, always with a flare for the dramatic (along with teaching, she was a staple in the local Shakespeare in the Park troop) was making us wait until all the students had gotten their bags before she read a poem by Keats, then we could open our bags and examine the cards. I have to admit that I actually loved her for this pomp-and-circumstance; it made the whole process more intriguing.

The anticipation was killing me, I kept glancing over at Gina, four seats over on my left.  She had been one of the first ones to collect her bag. I could see her sneaking looks into the bag and around the room. The anticipation was getting to her too. I wondered if she knew, if she had any idea of my feelings for her, if she shared the same feeling for me, I wondered if she had, had the same conversation with her mother for a particular pack of cards that would convey just the right sentiment towards me? I was lost in my thoughts when Mrs. Federdine called my name.

“Pleasure is oft a visitant; but pain / Clings cruelly to us.”

 -John Keats 

I got up from my desk and slowly walked towards the front of the room, I was zeroed in on my bag hanging on the bottom of the chalk board 3^rd from the left. As I said before I was very proud of the job I did decorating my bag, I had spent a lot of time making it perfect  . I wanted it to reflect both my personality and the spirit of the day. It was covered in cut out pink and red hearts some had these springy folded up accordion style slips of paper behind them to make them look like they were bouncing off the bag. Not to toot my own horn, but my bag really stood out. With all these feelings of young love and creative pride I was troubled to realize that another feeling had begun to take hold of my being…

dread.

Something was wrong, as I got closer and got a good look at my bag hanging there from a small piece of tape on the aluminum lip of the chalk tray it noticed it wasn’t hanging low, struggling to hold the weight of all the colorful cards stuffed inside, instead it just sat there just as I put it up the day before. The two bags on either side looked like they would fall to the ground and burst open at any minute.

Could it be? Was it possible? My mind raced as I slowly drew closer, I played back every interaction I had with my fellow students over the past few weeks replaying any actions or words that I might have done or said that would result in me not getting a Valentines Day card from someone. I did laugh at Elroy Metter when he farted during silent reading last Tuesday, and then there was the time I borrowed Samantha Greenburg’s eraser and lost it, and of course there was the lopsided trade I made with Matt Carson at lunch the day before, but I mean come on who trades a Twinkie for half a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich anyway? Could any of these people be so vengeful over these trivial events as to deny me a valentine?

“I’ve been making a list of the things they don’t teach you at school. They don’t teach you how to love somebody. They don’t teach you how to be famous. They don’t teach you how to be rich or how to be poor. They don’t teach you how to walk away from someone you don’t love any longer. They don’t teach you how to know what’s going on in someone else’s mind. They don’t teach you what to say to someone who’s dying. They don’t teach you anything worth knowing.”

-Neil Gaiman 

I stood there looking down at my bag, I was frozen. I literally couldn’t move. It was if I had simultaneously been punched in the stomach and had cold water thrown on my soul.

My bag was empty.

I don’t mean it only had one or two cards in it, I mean it was devoid of all contents. My brain screamed at me out of pure self-preservation to grab the bag and pretend that nothing was wrong, to go back to my desk with a smile on my face. But I couldn’t move, my eyes began to water and my throat was getting tight. I prayed harder in that moment then I had in my whole life up to that point, begging God not to let me cry. My trembling hands reached out and took hold of the empty bag, the tape holding the bag to the tray decided to have a little fun of its own and held steady causing the top of the bag to rip, the sound echoed in my head. The bag had no weight at all; it was if it didn’t even exist. As I turned and walked back to my desk my feet felt like they were made of marble, each step took more effort then the last.

Despite my broken heart – and being a glutton for punishment – I looked over to where Gina was sitting. She was giggling and whispering to Tonya Byer, her best friend who sat behind her.  In that moment watching her without a care in the world, ignoring the full bag of adoration spilling out in front of her, I came to realize that life was going to be as lopsided as my lunch trade with Matt the day before.

That some people; the beautiful, the popular, the rich, the lucky, would always have full bags and that others; the invisible, the ordinary,  the forgotten, would go through life desperately tying to overcompensate by dressing up their empty bags only to have them ultimately get torn and ignored.

I dropped into my seat and put my head down on the desk, I didn’t care who saw me, I couldn’t pretend anymore that I wasn’t in pain. I let the tears come, squeezing my eyes shut tightly feeling them make tracks down the side of my nose and drop onto the desk top making a small pool that I wiped away with my sleeve. I sat there with the sound of my own breath echoing in the cavern I had created with my folded arms, my mind drifted off, struggling to get away from the pain of the past few minutes, minutes that seemed to have always been and would always be. Every time I inhaled I could feel the rejection as though it was something physical, like slivers of glass working their way deeper into my chest. The sounds of my classmates opening their bags and rummaging through them looking for the cards with candy hearts attached became something ethereal and far away. Slowly my mind began to clear…

And I began to remember a movie that we had watched in class a few months back. It was one of those movies that you were convinced the teacher was showing because she needed a break  and not because it has any kind of educational value.   It was called “Cipher in the Snow” and it was about some loner teenager who gets off the school bus and drops dead for apparently no reason.  It turns out the kid died from being ignored; he just gave up living. Remembering that movie jolted me out of my introspective funk and for a second I thought it might actually happen to me, with that fearful realization the pain of being overlooked was forced to morph into a numb apathy, my body begun to adapt and my emotions had already started constructing a defensive armor that would both protect and distance me from others. I took one more painful breath wiped my nose and slowly lifted my head, the lights hurt my eyes and it took me a moment to adjust to what was going on around me, to refocus and take stock. I was still at my desk, my bag was still empty, my spirit was still bruised, but I wasn’t laying face down dead in the snow, and at that moment, that was enough.

I wish I could tell you that things got better that day, that there was some simple explanation for why my bag was empty, some misunderstanding or bad practical joke that went too far. Truth is I still struggle with the lingering feelings of rejection from that experience, even now almost 30 years later.

Get over it, right?

I’m married to a wonderful person who makes me feel like the most important person who ever lived, I have two amazing kids who are funny and sweet, why dwell in the past? Actually in many ways I have “gotten over it” but what that experience did was open up a window that I have never been able to fully close — and honestly I hope I never do — because it has helped me to see that we are surrounded everyday by people just like us, who are struggling with rejection and loss.

And what most of them need is the same thing that all of us crave, acceptance and love. A simple smile or nod on the street or in the mall that lets another person know that they are noticed and that their existence is not invisible; that we are all in this strange experiment called humanity together. I hope that we never get so bitter, apathetic, and jaded that we ever forget that.

Sometimes I wonder. It’s hard to have hope when you turn on the news and hear about all the things that separate us as a culture; politics, religion, economics, etc… it can become almost overwhelming. But, as we sit there and consume all those things that divide us, may we also find time to look for those things that knit us together, things like hope and love, compassion and empathy, gratitude and appreciation…

And Valentines Day cards.

Sometimes I think it’s important for us all to take a step back and appreciate life and all the little things that we sometimes forget about or overlook. I have been on a mission lately to say “thank you” more, to let people in my life know that I truly appreciate who they are and what they do for me and other people. The responses I’ve gotten to my new emphasis on appreciation have been interesting to say the least. Often time people don’t know how to take a thank you, I had one lady at the Post office lightheartedly call me a “smart-ass” I’ve had more than one person say “thank you” for saying thank you, which then starts a Möbius Strip of never ending thank you’s,

But, for the most part, people just smile.

And in the end isn’t that what it’s all about? Just helping one person for one fleeting moment feel appreciated and loved enough to crack a smile, to release a momentary surge of endorphins, to create if even for the briefest of moments a real human connection with another person simply by acknowledging that they are not a something but a someone.

So, in this weeks post I want to share some appreciation, I want to take a page from the many awards shows that have been broadcast over the last few weeks, and mention a few individuals and things that make the day a little better. Spread a little positivity! I want to give props to some of the unsung heroes out there, who seldom, if ever, get their due.

So THANK YOU in no particular order…

• To my Mom, it just seemed like the right place to start.
• To Coffee, lets face it without you life is boring and unproductive
• To the people who grow, pick, and package coffee
• To the makers of coffee cups and travel mugs
• To that strange guy who’s always hanging out at the Manheim/Mount Joy exit off 283, you’re yelling at someone and I can only imagine they deserve it!
• To William Barclay your Commentaries have helped define much of our collective understanding of theology.
• Rye Bread, you make the best toast and you know it.
• To anyone toiling away in their basement inventing something to improve the human condition…lets hope it’s a jetpack.
• To anyone who has been put down, bullied, or told that they are “second class citizens” and still manage to get up each day look at themselves in the mirror and smile…you are my hero!
• To anyone who has been put down, bullied, or told that they are a “second class citizens” and still manage to get up each day look at themselves in the mirror without smiling…you are my hero and know that until you can, I’ll be smiling for you!
• Beer.
• To anyone who gets up day after day to go to a job they hate to provide for their family.
• To grandparents who raise their grandkids.
• To the guy who replaces the light bulbs on radio towers…I actually know a guy who did that…thanks!
• To the square pegs being forced into round holes.
• To people who smile and say thank you to people they don’t know.
• To kids who still dream of becoming astronauts.
• To anyone who has devoted their lives and sacrificed their own comfort and social standing to make a stand for what is right, even if their views aren’t popular.
• To the person who invented the machine that puts the cream filling in Twinkies…my hat is off to you!
• To those who not only aren’t afraid to create something new and beautiful, but refuse to destroy something else to do it.
• To single parents who never get the break they need, nor the credit they deserve.
• To Jesus for completely and utterly ruining my life…in a good way.
• To marshmallows, I got to be honest I’m not a huge fan, but without you there would be no SMORES and that just doesn’t seem right.
• To anyone who plays an instrument and or sings without the need of any digital alteration.
• To old guys who fart in public cause they just don’t care anymore what people think.
• To Anne Lamott, J.J. Abrams, Dr. Victor Frankel and Steve Jobs. Why those four? Why not!
• Did I mention coffee?
• To dreamers, doubters, seekers, searchers, and anyone else who looks outside of what they know of truth with an open heart and mind.
• To communities that pool their resources and live simply so they can share with others in need.
• To people who still rock the mullet.
• To the Westborough Baptist Church, for making almost everyone else in the world look sane in comparison…alright that was a bit snarky, sorry.
• To the LED’s, for putting a nail in the coffin of overhead fluorescent lights…those things suck at my soul.
• To my wife for being sexy.
• To all the volunteers and coordinators of the Trevor Project, a help line for LGBTQ teens (1-866-488-7386)
• For people who have to wear suits to work, there but by the grace of God go I.
• To the amazingly beautiful people of Haiti, see you again soon.
• To Charles Elmer Doolin inventor of the Cheetos, my orange stained fingers salute you.
• To teachers who still believe that they can make a difference, and fight for the rights of their co-workers and kids, you deserve better!
• To anyone who has been hurt by a religious establishment and has been able to move past the bitterness and pain to begin again down the path of spiritual experience.
• To Dragonflies, in my humble opinion the coolest of the flying insects.
• To the small business owner who has had the same salary for years so they can give their employees Christmas bonuses.
• To anyone who has been challenged, confronted, or touched by cancer, which statistically speaking is all of us.
• To shrimpers, truckers, crabbers, loggers, fisherman, and swamp people who don’t have a show on cable.
• To the people who are still reading this!
• To the fine folks at Chaco for making superior footwear, my new clogs might just be the only thing I ever put on my feet again…sorry Sanuk.
• To those who have made the ultimate sacrifice for so that strangers can sleep safe at night.
• To all those people who are hurting and afraid right now, who think that no one cares or understands what it is you are going through. Know that you are not alone, and that there are still great pockets of love in the world. Heck, call me I’ll listen 717-575-1087
• And finally to you, for making it to the end. I would love to hear your “shout-outs” if you feel so inclined and I bet I’m not the only one!

Thank you and Godspeed

-erik

This Sunday we got together for our first gathering of 2012 and along with some killer French Toast courtesy of Christy we spent some time looking at the calendar and discussing some of the new goals of the DC. But, before we get into that, I wanted to quickly share a couple thoughts. So if you’ll indulge me, I would like to spend a minute or two (depending on how fast you read) and let you in on some things that have been bouncing around in my chapeau-covered noggin.

I recently had a conversation, via the inter-web, with a former college chum who shared his concern with the spiritual direction of the Definition Collective and my personal “salvation”.  This was followed with another conversation that I had with a local friend who was wondering if my gifts of “effectively communicating the gospel” were being fully utilized. Having both of these dear friends share their concerns with me caused a great deal of self- doubt (something I have a tremendous talent for) and introspection. I want it made clear that I love both these folks and respect their opinion and concern for me, and my connection with the divine. Which is why I have taken their insights to heart and while I don’t feel the need to delve into a comprehensive defense of my personal theology, I did think that this topic might make for an interesting conversation. So let me just say this…

I love Jesus; I think he’s cool.

It’s that simple.

You see Jesus and I have been through a lot together. We’ve had good times and bad times. Some of the stuff we have been through together is funny, or at least it’s funny now, some times it’s been profoundly moving one could say “life changing” but there have also been many times we have gone without speaking because of feelings of pain and abandonment. Sometimes I share with people, if it fits in the conversation, about those times; but, when it comes to the depth of our relationship well, that’s when I tend to keep things to myself. It’s kind of like the relationship I have with my wife. I love my wife; I think she’s cool and we’ve been through a lot together, some good some bad and I love telling people about my wife and hopefully after getting to know me a little you will be able to see the love and respect I have for her, you wont need me to put a bumper sticker on my car or wear a t-shirt that says “I love my wife” you’ll just know it, because you know me. With all that said there are some parts of the relationship my wife and I have that I don’t think is appropriate or necessary to share with everyone because those things are just between her and I. And I kind of feel the same way with my relationship with Jesus, I don’t say that to be rude, it’s just that there are certain aspects of our relationship that are private, special, intimate.

I am also fully aware that a lot of my friends have had different experiences with Jesus and think he’s a jerk. Some are more interested in Him as a historical figure, a great teacher or philosopher but are no more interested in exploring a relationship with Him then they would Gandhi or Abraham Lincoln. Sometimes I think He takes the blame for things that aren’t his fault, and when that happens I try and stick up for him, but most of the time I just try and listen to other peoples’ stories. I think that’s what I’m supposed to do. Listen. And I do that because I honestly care, sounds cheesy but it’s true. I made the decision a long time ago to devote my life to spiritual pursuits, to try and understand the mystery of God, it’s what I’m passionate about. 10 years ago the perfect day for me would have been to spend the day locked in a room with the complete works of G.K. Chesterton, F.F. Bruce, Bonheoffer, and Barclay but now it would be sitting in a room with a full pot of coffee and a bunch of different people with vastly different backgrounds and listen to their stories about their encounters, doubts, frustrations, questions, joys, triumphs and challenges with God.

That’s what I hope the “spiritual direction” of the DC is, and will continue to be at least for the time being.  I hope it will be a place to share and collect God stories. I know that it’s not for everyone. It’s a whole different thing to be “spiritually fed” from a conversation when you’re used to a sermon. It’s awkward to worship God through sharing burdens when you grew up singing hymns. I understand that, it’s not better or worse, wrong or right it’s just different.

I spent 18 years talking about God, sharing my thoughts and stories at churches, schools, camps, conferences and retreats and maybe someday I’ll do it again. But, only after I have taken some time to hear other peoples’ stories, other peoples’ thoughts……

Only after I have taken more time to listen.

I hope it goes without saying that this is not a defense but an answer, and I share these thoughts not in any misguided attempt to “clear my name” because I don’t think that either one of my friends were accusing me of anything. They were simply doing what I am hoping to do with this post, to get us all thinking about our faith and candor. Or what is productive and also counter-productive about how our faith plays out in our lives. I personally am a big believer in the old adage that you “say more with less words”. I often get the feeling that those who are the most vocal about their faith are often the most insecure and the last thing I want is to let people into my insecurities (because it’s vast…and they would get lost) instead I quietly, passionately want my life to reflect love, the love of God and the love of those friends and family that I am surrounded with. So this week lets all spend a couple minutes thinking about the “us” that people see, I know for me this has been a great exercise, looking at myself from the outside. And then maybe we can try and implement some ways to either let more of ourselves shine, or maybe pull back a bit and let our actions speak louder then our words.

speaking of which…

…as I mentioned 700 or so words ago,  we spent some time this past Sunday looking at a few aspects of 2012. The first one of note is that at each brunch this year (still the first Sunday of every month) will be devoted to discussing, planning, and brainstorming for that particular months Clever Love project.  This months project will be on Sunday the 29^th when we will be spending time in one of Lancaster counties more underfunded or forgotten nursing homes running a BINGO game in their Common Room.

More details will be coming out soon but for right now, we do need folks to do some prize shopping (Dollar Store, Wal-Mart, Kmart, etc…) just grab a couple things that can be put on the prize table, think “fun necessities” make sure to share any ideas or thoughts on the Clever Love Facebook Page .

I know that the idea of spending time in a nursing home can be intimidating or out of your comfort zone, maybe like me, just setting foot in a place like that can bring up painful memories.  But, I have come to see that there is a huge population of “forgotten” people in our culture, they are the elderly, the physically and mentally challenged folks that live in many specialized apartments. For us to spend a couple hours playing games and talking to them can make a world of difference and all it costs us is a couple minutes of awkwardness. Please call me if you have any questions about this months project or if you have some ideas for this or future Clever Love campaigns.

Godspeed and thanks for listening:)

-e

NEW YEARS BRUNCH
SUNDAY JANUARY 1st 2012
11:30am

This Sunday we will get together at the Ewing’s house for our first brunch of the new year! Please bring something yummy to share (I think we can all agree NO MORE COOKIES!) At the brunch we will spend some time catching up, showing off those new Christmas duds, and pretending that we only had one glass of champaign at midnight the night before…and that’s why we’re so tired, right!?!

We’ll also, as we talked about many moons ago now, devote the discussion time to strategizing and chatting about “Clever Love” ideas for the month, Something we will be devoting every brunch to in 2012.

And because it is the morning after New Years let’s go ahead and bump that gathering time back to 11:30am what do ya say?

Alright, I think thats about it for now…hope everyone is having a great week and that everyone had a relaxing and peace-filled Christmas. Thanks again everyone for all your hard work with the cookie selling/baking/wrapping/delivering in case you haven’t heard we raised over $500.00 and were able to share the holiday spirit with 3 families here in Lancaster County on Christmas Eve.

As always let us know if you have any questions 717-575-1087 or erikewing@mail.com and hope to see you all on Sunday!

Godspeed
-e