Archive for the ‘Thoughts on Relationships’ Category

The Giving Tree

July 31st, 2009

My husband and I both have very fond memories of reading the book The Giving Tree as children. I always thought it was a wonderful book and it was one of the first children’s books that we put on our wish list. We were very excited to receive a beautiful hard cover copy of it as a gift for our baby. So, a few nights ago I decided to open it up and read it aloud to my stomach. Ever since then I have sort of been thinking about it off and on. Something about it really bothered me when I read it the other night and it continued to bother me throughout the last few days. Today thoughts started to form around this vague bothered feeling and I want to share them here.

I’m guessing that many of you have read this book as it is a very popular children’s story, but if you haven’t here is a short recap of the story from Amazon:

“In Shel Silverstein’s popular tale of few words and simple line drawings, a tree starts out as a leafy playground, shade provider, and apple bearer for a rambunctious little boy. Making the boy happy makes the tree happy, but with time it becomes more challenging for the generous tree to meet his needs. When he asks for money, she suggests that he sell her apples. When he asks for a house, she offers her branches for lumber. When the boy is old, too old and sad to play in the tree, he asks the tree for a boat. She suggests that he cut her down to a stump so he can craft a boat out of her trunk. He unthinkingly does it. At this point in the story, the double-page spread shows a pathetic solitary stump, poignantly cut down to the heart the boy once carved into the tree as a child that said “M.E. + T.” “And then the tree was happy… but not really.” When there’s nothing left of her, the boy returns again as an old man, needing a quiet place to sit and rest. The stump offers up her services, and he sits on it. “And the tree was happy.”

Ok, so I have always thought that this story was a great example of selflessness and generous giving, but as I read it again as an adult I found a whole different story within it and it was honestly unsettling.

Let’s talk about the boy first. The little boy, who grows into an old man through the course of the story, is definitely not someone I want my son to be like. He’s selfish and an incessant consumer. He takes, and takes and takes. He knows the tree loves him and he uses that love to his own advantage to get what he wants. He has no thought for the destructive force of his actions. I do not want my son to manipulate others love for him in the way this boy did. I don’t want him to selfishly walk all over people the way this little boy did. I don’t want him to endlessly consume from others and from the natural resources around him the way this little boy did with no thought of consequences. The boy is not a character I want my son to emulate.

So, how about the tree? When I was younger I felt that the tree was the real hero in the story, the character that should be emulated. I thought the tree’s selfless giving was beautiful and fulfilling, but now I see a different story and a different side of things. It’s true the tree is selfless and giving, generous and loving and these are all characteristics that I want my son to have and strive after. But, as I read the story this time, I felt uncomfortable with the tree’s giving. It seemed unhealthy. The relationship that the tree has with the boy seems abusive and the tree seems to be victimized in the story. The tree allows herself to be walked all over and taken advantage of time and time again. As I read it I felt uncomfortable with the way that the tree enabled and sustained the little boys consumption and selfishness. I do want my son to be giving, I do want him to pour himself out on behalf of others and love others generously, but I do not want my son to become as weak as this tree and allow himself to be abused and taken advantage of like that. As I look more closely at this story I don’t think that the tree is really worthy of emulating either.

I think the story actually shows us how messed up two good things can become in a relationship. Here’s what I mean… Giving selflessly to another is incredibly beautiful and valuable. And I personally also believe that allowing ourselves to accept and receive and take from another what they freely offer us is also incredibly beautiful and valuable. Relationships need and should have both these things. We should be able to give freely and receive freely in relationships. But, I think there needs to be balance. The problem comes when the balance is lost and it becomes all giving or all taking – it’s then that the relationship can become unhealthy like that of the little boy and the tree. At least that’s what I think at this stage in my life as I read this story. Anyone else have any other thoughts on this classic children’s book??

Rejoicing in the journey -
Bethany

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Pain and Hope

July 11th, 2009

Last week a friend and I were talking and praying together and she pulled out a bible and started to read Lamentations 3. As she read some things struck me about this chapter that I had never fully noticed before even though they are fairly obvious. I guess most of the time when I’ve heard these verses I’ve heard and read verses 21-33 disconnected from the rest of the chapter, but it was the verses that came before 21 that really struck me this time.

There is such raw pain and grief and anger in these verses. The author doesn’t try and hid it or excuse it or cover over it, instead he directs his raw anger and grief directly at God saying…
“He has made me dwell in darkness…”
“He has walled me in…”
“He has barred my way…”
“He pierced my heart…”
etc. etc.
And yet it’s amidst this honest pain and anger and even amidst these accusations against God that he writes:
“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, ‘The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him’… It is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.”

This picture of honest grief mixed with honest hope being held together at the same time is so beautiful. But, it got me thinking how often do we allow ourselves and each other to feel both? To express both of these feelings together in our pain? I mean I think that most of us would feel uncomfortable if someone came up to us and said “The Lord has turned his hand against me again and again, all day long.” Or some of the other sentiments expressed in the first part of this chapter. I mean I think most of us wouldn’t know what to do if someone expressed that kind of raw pain and anger to us. We would probably try to steer the conversation quickly to the hope side of things saying contrived things and giving shallow answers. We wouldn’t feel comfortable with someone accusing God like that and we would quickly try to get them to stop and instead say things like, “The Lord’s compassions never fail.”

But, it struck me maybe the healthiest way to deal with pain and suffering and loss is to enter both sides of this chapter. If we run straight to verses 21 we miss out on part of the process and we bury grief and anger that will eventually resurface. We need to give ourselves and those around us the freedom to feel grief, to feel pain, to feel anger and, I think, the freedom to direct all that grief and anger at God. And yet, we also can’t get stuck there and stay there forever, we need to experience both grief and hope. We can’t rush to hope without experiencing the pain, but we also don’t want to get stuck in the pain and accusations and never move forward to “waiting quietly for the salvation of the Lord.” Maybe if we gave ourselves and others more freedom to experience the first part of the chapter we would all be more likely to move forward to the second part?

So, those were my thoughts – anyone have any other thoughts on this?

Rejoicing in the journey -
Bethany

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There goes Christ…

January 28th, 2009

The other day I was walking out of the metro and I saw a homeless man, he was clearly drunk and talking to himself. And as I saw him and old saying that my mom had taught me years ago popped into my head:

“There, but by the grace of God go I.”

My mom had taught me this saying that we could never really think better of ourselves than others because really we are just like them. Without God’s grace and different circumstances and choices in our lives we might be in the exact place. But, I realized something as I thought about this saying. It doesn’t really teach what it’s intending to teach. It’s suppose to show us that we can’t look down on other people or judge them and we should instead be thankful that by God’s grace we aren’t in the situation that they are in. It’s supposed to show us our commonality as human brothers and sisters.

But, think about this saying for a moment, “There, but by the grace of God, go I.” As I thought about it I realized that it doesn’t minimize pride it magnifies it. It focuses not on our commonalities with our brothers and sisters who suffer, but on our differences. Yes, we recognize that they are in some ways like us but in the same breath we recognize that by God’s grace we aren’t them and we have it better than they do. Yes, we say it is by God’s grace that we have it different, but doesn’t that imply that God’s grace doesn’t also extend to the needy brother that we pass by? And really don’t we sort of think that yes it’s by God’s grace, but God’s grace is extended to me because well, I’m better – I didn’t make the mistakes that person made, I haven’t sinned like that person has, etc.

As I thought about this more I could see how some could say this saying in a way that had much more in common with Pharisee in Luke 18 than with genuine humility and thankfulness.

“Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood up and prayed about himself: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men – robbers, evildoers, adulterers – or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’ But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’ I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.”

“There, but by the grace of God, go I.” Doesn’t connect people. It divides them. Even though it seems to acknowledge our similarities it says that by the grace of God that person is less than me and thanks God that I am not like him. Maybe instead of saying “There, but by the grace of God, go I.” We should say simply “There go I.” And remember that the needy brother or sister at our side is no different than us and we are no different than them. Or maybe instead we should say, “There goes Christ.” Remembering that whatever we do to the least of these we do unto Christ himself.

I think sometimes the place to start in changing our actions is changing our thought process and so I am trying to change the way I think and the language I use towards those who appear more needy than I appear to be.

Rejoicing in the journey -
Bethany

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“Friends” and Community

January 12th, 2009

“So, no one told you life was gonna be this way
Your jobs a joke, your broke, your love life’s D.O.A.
It’s like you’re always stuck in second gear
When it hasn’t been your day, your week, your month, or even your year
But I’ll be there for you (when the rain starts to pour)
I’ll be there for you (like I’ve been there before)
I’ll be there for you (because you’re there for me too)” – Friends Theme Song

So, I have a little confession. I LOVE the show “Friends”. We own all 10 seasons and I’m guessing that I’ve probably seen from season 1 to season 10 straight through in order close to 10 times. I enjoy Friends because I find it funny and a bit mindless, which means it’s relaxing for me to watch (unlike some of my other show additions, like LOST). But, I’ve realized lately that there is something deeper portrayed in Friends and it’s probably the real reason that I love Friends, because, it’s a core value of mine… Community.

I don’t know why it took watching the show for so long in order for me to realize it, but Friends is a great picture of true community. Monica, Rachel, Phoebe, Ross, Joey and Chandler aren’t just Friends they are a community. They live life together in a very real and consistent manner. I thought of so many examples of this, here’s just a few:

1.       They share meals together regularly (basically daily or almost daily)

2.       They share their homes with each other – when Ross loses his job and apartment he moves in with Joey and Chandler, when Phoebe and Rachel’s apartment catches on fire Phoebe moves in with Monica and Rachel moves in with Joey, etc.

3.       They take care of each other when one or more of them is in a difficult financial situation – Chandler pays for most of Joeys expenses while Joey’s trying to make it as an actor, Ross gives Monica money for rent when she loses her job, Phoebe loans Monica money to start a catering company, they all pitch in to pay for Rachel to go on a vacation with her family, etc.

4.       They encourage each other and cry with one another through break ups and deaths and job losses and infertility and everything life throws at them

5.       They are always there for each other even when it means sacrificing something that they wanted – for example when Rachel brakes a rib and Ross takes her to the emergency room instead of going to his TV interview

6.       They know each other inside and out and share their secrets, hopes and fears with one another.

7.       They fight with each other – they are real and open and themselves around each other and sometimes that leads to fights and messy situations and they don’t try to avoid that or just put on a mask, they are real and that means they get angry with each other and show it – but they are also always able to work past it and forgive each other

8.       They go above and beyond the norm in order to make each other happy and fulfill each other’s desires and dreams – with this I think of the time when Ross found out that Phoebe never had a bike and so he goes out and buys her a bike for no real reason other than care for his friend.

All of this happens largely by choice – each person chooses to love and care for each of the others. But, it also happens largely by proximity. For most of the show at least four of them live across the hall from each other and the others aren’t far away either. This allows for things like sharing breakfast together before work, meeting at the coffee shop down stairs after work, and hanging out countless other times together. When you spend that much time that close to another person it becomes so much easier for you to meet their needs and be there for them because you know what their needs are and you are already present in their lives. When you live in that close of a proximity with someone else it’s also really difficult to be fake and put up a mask – because that person is always there they naturally start to see the real you.

I enjoy Friends for a lot of reasons, but I think the reason I love Friends is because it’s a picture of what I’ve always wanted… real, honest, authentic, caring, holistic community.

Rejoicing in the journey -
Bethany

I recently read this post written by Alan Knox at The Assembling of the Church and think he has some great things to say about community.

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The Beautifully Broken Body of Christ

November 9th, 2008

Yesterday I realized something…

Let me set the stage: I was making lunch for a community gathering/retreat we were having. I had all these thoughts bouncing in my head about the communion experience I was helping to plan and about our community and what it means to live in community. I was feeling nervous about the time we were going to have together. The culmination of all this was the thought that would lead to my realization:

 “This is my body broken for you.”

With each tear of the lettuce and each cut of the knife the thought came:

“This is my body broken for you.”

As I set out the elements for communion:

“This is my body broken for you.”

And then I started to think about and pray for different members of our faith community the thought came again even louder this time:

“This is my body broken for you.”

I had never before thought about that statement as being about anything besides the bread of communion and Jesus own physical body broken on the cross. But suddenly it dawned on me that we have TWO things that we are told ARE the body of Christ Jesus: the bread at communion and the church (or the family of God). And it suddenly felt very real to me that when Jesus says, “This is my body broken for you” He is talking about how he himself will be broken, and about how the bread will be broken, AND about how his church and the members of his church will be broken. And this weekend I experienced that a little bit.

I feel like I experienced my brokenness and my past story and my personal expectations rub up against the brokenness and past stories and expectations of others in my community.

And it hurt…

… but today I find myself thanking God for it.

Thank you, Lord that I am part of your broken body!

Thank you for the darkness and the tension and the differences.

Thank you for hurting me so that I could more clearly see my own biases and brokenness.

Thank you for a community that is willing to be open with one another, and share our hearts and hurts with each other even when that’s really hard and when doing it might be really difficult.

Thank you for a community that is willing to love each other, and love the differences we see in each other even when those differences hurt us.

Thank you for a community that is willing to stay in it together instead of choosing the easier path.

Lord, thank you, thank you, thank you, for sending your son to be broken like we are.

Lord, I know and I trust that you are a God of restoration and redemption and resurrection. I know and trust that you love to take that which is broken and make it whole again. That’s what I see you being about and that is what I want to be about. Lord, forgive me for the ways that I have broken instead of redeemed, forgive me for the ways I have done that even tonight. Lord, continue to work in me – don’t give up on me – work in me to take all my broken pieces and make me whole. Lord, work in us as a community and make us whole. Make us a community that is about restoration and redemption and resurrection.

Tonight I still feel a bit sad and tired, but I also feel deep hope.

Tonight I was reminded of why I choose to be a part of this community, and why I love each of the unique members of this community.

Tonight I experienced more of what it means to actually live in real community.

Tonight I feel thankful.

Tonight I am encouraged to be part of God’s broken body and I look expectantly towards the resurrection and wholeness that is coming.

Rejoicing in the journey -
Bethany

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