A BOX AND A FRIEND

Last year I had the privilege of working with a good friend of mine in a local ministry that she founded. We share a vision to bring light and life to people through the ministry of spiritual direction. I am thankful for her life and vision and to see where God has inspired her and led her in her calling as a healer of souls.

We are very different people and I think that we are good for each other because of these differences. However, during this period of working together we hit some very rocky roads. We began to have disagreements that set us apart from one another to the point where it became clear that our working together was not a good fit for us. This was a very painful experience for me because I love my friend and I lost the chance to work side by side with her. We were able to part ways as friends and bless each other for what the future would hold for both of us.

This reminds me of the story of Paul and Barnabas in the book of Acts. Here were two good friends ministering together to bring strength and health to the people of God. They had dedicated their lives to this work and shared in this ministry together. Then one day they had a decision to make about whom would accompany them in their travels to the various churches. Barnabas wanted to take John, and Paul wanted to take Silas. They had such a sharp disagreement that they parted company. I can imagine that this parting caused grief for both of these men. They had been friends for a long time and enjoyed the work that they accomplished together for the good of God’s people.

A few years ago my husband, Bruce, founded a non-profit organization to bring healing and wholeness to the Native American community. This came out of a desire to give back to a nation of people that have had so much taken away from them.  Red Tail Woodworks has been evolving over these past few years. Part of the mission and vision of Red Tail is to honor and bring back the culture of the native community. So when a native friend

 of Bruce’s was moving away, he wanted to give him a gift to take with him on his journey. Bruce built him a box that would be used to store many of the items used in native ceremonies. When he gave the box to his friend it knit their hearts together in a very deep and lasting way. This was the first of many boxes to come.

One day as I was reflecting on my experience with my friend I began thinking about the ministry of healing that has come from the boxes that are being created at Red Tail. Bruce has told me that part of the native tradition is that when you learn a new craft, that you are to give your first creation away. So I decided to make a box for my friend. I have never had a desire to be a woodworker. I have admired what my husband can create with a piece of wood but I did not see myself participating in this skilled craft, ever! I know now that a big reason for my avoidance of woodworking was because it was vulnerable for me to try something new. I have no skills in woodworking and so for me to step into this arena I would have to submit myself to Bruce and learn from him. He is a very good teacher. He told me that while I was working on the box to let God speak to me about my friend and to offer prayers for my friend. So this activity became an act of prayer. I would work on the box for a couple of hours each day. This experience was good for me because I got to see my husband in action. He loves working in his shop and so having me experience this with him brought him great delight. Each day that I worked on the box I thought about my friend. For many days the work went smoothly and I was enjoying the process. My box was turning out great and I was feeling pretty good about myself. And then toward the final stages of building the box I made a major mistake. While I was

working on the lid of the box where I was inlaying a symbol for the Creator, I broke the lid in half. I was flooded with emotion. I felt angry that I had made such a stupid mistake. One of my inner demons is the feeling that I am stupid. So being in this position was very humbling for me. I had no grace for myself. I wanted to quit making this box and never attempt woodworking again. Fortunately, I had Bruce by my side encouraging me to stay with it. He picked up the broken pieces and told me that we could glue them together. As I stood there looking at the brokenness of my box, my anger turned to tears. I though about how this box was a metaphor for my relationship with my friend. We had been working together side by side and then one day we were split apart and the damage seemed beyond repair. Bruce helped me glue the lid back together and told me that the lid would actually be stronger in the broken places than it was before it broke. It took a lot of sanding to hide the crack where the lid had split but when the final touches were made, there was not a trace of the damage that could be seen with the naked eye.

Good friends are a treasure. Any lasting relationship will have times of trial and moments when you feel like giving up on each other. Even though Paul and Barnabas went their separate ways they remained friends. Later on we see Paul defending Barnabas’ right to be supported in ministry (1Cor. 9:6).  I gave the box that I made to my friend as a symbol of reconciliation. I still believe in her and the work that she is doing and I know that she still believes in me. My prayer is that the split that broke us apart will be glued back together so that we are stronger than we were before and eventually there will not even be a trace of the damage that was done.

Cry Baby

What is the worst name that you can remember being called as a kid? For me it was being called a Cry Baby. I spent years of my life running from both of these words. I learned at a very young age that crying made me vulnerable to the actions of others. So I developed a wall of protection for myself by shutting off my tears. I worked very hard at not letting others see me cry. When I did cry, I sought solitude. After all, if I needed to be weak I could do that alone. 

This is such a distorted way of seeing. I have the privilege of listening to the lives of others as a Spiritual Director and very often what I hear comes from a deep place of pain and suffering. How can we exist without our tears? However, when a person sitting before me is moved to tears, more often than not they will apologize for crying and try to stop as soon as possible. I have also done this myself. Why do we do this? Because we see our tears as an embarrassing intrusion when in reality they are a gift to us. When we are moved to tears this is a sign that we are alive and that we feel things deeply!

Several years ago I was at a spiritual direction retreat and a woman stood up and shared how she had been living without her heart for many years. The pain in her life had become unbearable and so she just tuned out emotionally. In that moment I felt a prick in my own heart and how I had also been living without my heart in various ways. And so I set out on a journey back to whole living. The journey back to living a whole-hearted life has been excruciating at times and I have shed many tears along the way but I am more alive today than I was before embarking on this road to wholeness. 

I have asked God daily to give me eyes to see and ears to hear and a heart of understanding for myself, for others, and for my world. However, the answer to this prayer does not come without a cost. To really see and hear and understand the reality of my world causes me great pain. I believe that as God continues this work of awareness in me, that I  am becoming more of a whole person. What I also receive is the gift of tears. Being alive to the world means being aware of the joys and the sorrows of the world. So each day I can see the darkness and the light that is all around me. The goodness of God surrounds me in the beauty of creation. I see the power and majesty of God in the lives of people. It takes strength and endurance to live in a world that is filled with suffering. The longer I walk on this earth the more I see people of courage who are willing to open their lives and hearts to a hurting world. 

I want to be a person of compassion that offers healing and hope to the  weary of this world. Sometimes I feel very powerless in this desire and then I am reminded of the words of Mother Teresa who said to start by helping the one that is before you. The older I get the more I see that changing the world starts first with myself and then to the one that is in my presence whoever that may be.

I still do not like crying in front of other people but I am learning to let go of my fear. I do not want to be afraid of tears anymore because they remind me that my heart is still beating. They are a sure sign of my love and compassion for my world. I am still here on this earth and so I will continue to seek the path of living from my whole heart. This is the way of Jesus.

During the days of Jesus' life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with fervent cries and tears to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission. 

                                   Hebrews 5:7

Love Your Enemies

This guitar has a history. It has been with me for about thirty years now. I received this guitar from my husband, Bruce, as a gift. I spent many years enjoying the music that came from this instrument by the work of my hands. Some years later my daughter, Emily, learned to play the guitar and found her soul through singing and songwriting. Her spirit comes through her music and when I listen to her sing I am deeply moved. After all she is my daughter. Choosing the life of a musician takes much courage in todays world.  I admire Emily for living from her true self. For many years she could not afford to buy a guitar of her own so she played mine. It was not her guitar of choice but she brought forth beautiful music from it and I delighted in sharing it with her. This is the guitar that she used to create her first CD.

A few weeks ago when thieves came into our home, this guitar was one of the things they snatched. It was sitting out in plain sight in my bedroom. I have often thought about passing this guitar along to one of my grandchildren or selling it because I do not play it anymore. So when it was taken I figured that that was that. I never expected to see it again. Then a few days after the robbery, the police called us and asked us what kind of guitar we had stolen and if we had a picture of it. Because we had pictures from Emily's CD we were able to recover the guitar plus many of the other items that were taken from us. When I saw the guitar it had some damage to the face. The people that took it did not bother to care for its condition. The police tracked down the thieves and informed us that they were heroin addicts. So my guitar was an opportunity for their next fix. The sad part of this is that this guitar does not have much monetary value anymore. I doubt that they would have received much money for it had they been able to pawn it off. So now it is hanging back up in my bedroom after its adventure into the drug world and after taking a beating. 

This experience got me to thinking about the words of Jesus:

“But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. If someone slaps you on one cheek, turn to them the other also. If someone takes your coat, do not withhold your shirt from them. Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back.  Do to others as you would have them do to you."

We live in a very broken world. The people that broke into our home are living desperate lives. Their lives are more valuable than anything the stole. Are they my enemy? Yes, I suppose they are. They threatened my world. In their desperation, they brought harm to me and my family. They mistreated us and took what belonged to us. I am thankful that no one in my family encountered the robbers while they were in our home. My son-in-law was out working in the shop that is located on our property that day. He could have very easily walked in on them. Surprisingly, my response when I heard that we had been robbed was sadness. When we went to the police station to retrieve some of our possessions, I again felt a deep sadness. In the foyer of the police station there is a glass case filled with pictures and

Brad Crawford

memorabilia of my brother-in-law. Ten years ago, he was killed in the line of duty. I have seen the memorial before but not for many years now. I do not have much reason to visit the police station. We lost Brad because he encountered desperate people. Are they my enemy? I suppose they are. They took a good man's life and robbed our family. The pain of losing Brad will never go away. 

So how do we love our enemies? By treating them the exact opposite of the way they have treated us. We choose the way of love. We do good rather than evil. We bless rather than curse. We give rather than take. Choosing to treat our enemies in this way is what will change the world. This is the way of Jesus.

What is in your purse? or Where is your treasure?

Yesterday someone broke into my home and stole several thousand dollars worth of possessions from Bruce and me. They also stole some things from me that were passed down from my grandparents and my dad who is no longer living. I am sad that someone chose to invade my life and help themselves to what did not belong to them. Such is the brokenness of the world we live in. Here are some thoughts that this event churned up inside of me.

I have the great pleasure of being in California this week spending time with my family. I love my family. No one knows me like they do and they choose to love me anyway. I have been blessed with a family that will stick by me through thick and through thin. We have shared many joys and many sorrows together. Sometimes our relationships have been tested but we have always turned back toward one another. We do this because we are a family and so we choose love.

When I was a little girl and a member of the youngest generation of my family I had a great since of belonging. I felt like I was a part of two tribes. One was my dad’s family and the other was my mom’s family. They were very different tribes and I loved being a member of both of them. I learned how to relate to God, other people, and the world through the influence of my family. Children learn through observation and I remember doing a lot of watching and learning as a child. I was the youngest child in my immediate family and I had thirty-two first cousins that were older than me so I had many people to look up to.

As a young adult I began having children of my own and I began the cycle all over again for my children. I wanted my children to grow up with a strong tribal connection to their family. Bruce and I cultivated a close relationship for our children with their grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. I believe that it is important to know who you are and where you come from because this gives us  a sense of belonging and grounding in the world. I love the influence that my parents and Bruce’s parents have had on my children as they have been finding their way in life. I’m thankful for the relationships that exist with my children and their aunts and uncles. This gives them someone to look up to and learn from as they journey through the ups and downs that life brings. I’m thankful for the relationships that have developed with my children and their cousins. These are their peers and hopefully, they will be a strength to them for a lifetime.

Now my children are having children. It is time for them to pass this heritage on to my grandchildren. I love being with my grandchildren. Yesterday, I was reading and my grandson, Noah, who is five years old asked me what I was reading about. I told him that I was reading about relationships. He said, “What is a relationship?” I explained to him what our relationship was and then what other relationships were with other people in his life. It is so much fun to have these spontaneous moments with him. He is a very inquisitive child and we have great conversations. Being a grandmother is the greatest gift in the world. I love that Noah asks everyday that I am staying at his house how much longer I am going to stay. He never wants me to leave. It feels good to be so loved and wanted by him. I believe that this is how God sees me and loves me. God looks forward to being with me everyday. God doesn’t want me to leave because of the love relationship that we have with one another.

So where is my treasure? It is with things that are eternal. My relationships with the people in my life are eternal. The things that will have lasting meaning for me are the relationships in my life. My tribe will carry on long after I have taken my last breath on earth. Many generations will come after me and although I will be forgotten, my life will carry on into eternity.

Sell your possessions and give to the poor. Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will never fail, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys.  For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

                                                                                 Luke 12:33-34