“A couple of years ago, I took a college class entitled Death, Dying, and Bereavement. It was a fascinating class. We talked about different types of death, bereavement, and the act of dying. One of the topics covered was whether people should have the right to choose their death when they are terminally ill. I learned something really important from that class.”
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“Years ago when we were trying to move out of Alaska, I half facetiously had my eye on The South. I had small children who were starting to learn what back talk is and experimenting with its use. Oh to be in The South where manners were taught, not just by me, but everyone they came in contact with!”
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“We’ve made it to 2022.
We were so hopeful for 2021, and in many ways, with COVID still raging its ugly head those hopes were dashed. I’m not sure if we should celebrate 2022 or spend time in fasting and prayer pleading for deliverance. Whatever 2022 brings, it will likely be unexpected and both heartbreaking and joyful at times.’
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What are your Christmas traditions? What makes your family belly laugh? The stuff of legends? Here’s one of ours.
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“I’ve been thinking a lot about the antagonist and protagonist lately. The antagonist makes things happen, decisions are made. Will the protagonist live up to their morals or make a mistake and have to try again?”
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A universal need.
That’s what my social work classes call it. The human need to be heard, seen, and known. It was a central feature of my first grad school class. It’s something that has been in my thoughts a lot over the past 7 weeks. I’ve talked about it with my Mom, my friends, and taught a lesson about it at church.
And here is what I’ve found.
It’s true.
We need to know that someone, somewhere knows the real us. That we are seen for who we are. That our wants, needs, and desires are heard by someone.
One of the hardest parts of living through the pandemic has been a disconnect from the ways we usually get those needs met. Friends and family have had to social distance. Events and celebrations were canceled. I met with the sisters in my church and we discovered that all of us had been feeling very alone. We felt like no one understood us. Many had felt that maybe church wasn’t the place for them anymore, they were isolated and felt like they didn’t belong.
I watched as everyone drew a huge sigh of relief to discover that they weren’t alone. They hadn’t been the only one person thinking these crazy thoughts. They weren’t the only one struggling to find a way to meet these needs. Our hearts ached as we listened to our sisters tell their stories that we didn’t know were hiding beneath their pasted on smiles.
So we made a plan.
It’s just in its beginning stages. But we realized that somehow, some way, it was vital that each of us felt heard, seen, and known. We made plans and commitments, both individually and as a group, to do even just one percent better at reaching out to each other and checking in. Because if we all did one percent better, that one percent multiplies like compound interest.
It is a couple weeks later and I have reached out to a few women who were on my mind. Nothing earth shattering has happened, but they now know that someone, somewhere was thinking about them, and if that helps them feel even a little less alone, I have succeeded.
“The first story I’ll tell you is that of a single mom. She recently discovered that her daughter had serious medical issues. All of her sick leave and vacation now go to time off for medical appointments. She has enough for this year, but next year, she will likely burn through that quickly. Vacations will now be a thing of the past while she desperately tries to balance working, being a mom, and the care of her sick child. She is lucky. She has worked with the company she works for, for over a year and therefore is eligible for the government program of FMLA (Family Medical Leave Act). This act protects her job and ensures she gets time off- though unpaid, to care for her child.”
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“HR wasn’t anything I was looking to get into, and I definitely wasn’t looking at manufacturing for a job. But every job that would have been perfect for me, that I could bring a lot of skills and knowledge to the job, or that would help in my continuing education? None of them worked out.
Instead, God brought me into a factory.”
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“We get told we’re bossy, mean, and are butting our heads in where they don’t belong. But we’ve always been asked and expected to since we were very young. We were trained to do this.”
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“When shopping in the South, there is a special code that outsiders may not be aware of. Makeup. You don’t leave the house without your face being done up.”
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