photo Header_zpsc98d369a.png

Thursday, November 17, 2016

I've Got a Feeling



I have always been a little (cough, a lot) on the emotional side. Anyone who knows my mother knows that the crying apple doesn't fall far from the crying tree. If apples fell from Weeping Willows, it would be our story.

It was kind of the joke of my study abroad trip to Greece, Israel, and Egypt in college: "Ashton is crying again!"

The tour guide would tell us the Apostle Paul walked here. Cry.

"We are walking the path where Jesus carried the cross." Cry.

Here are the pyramids. Cry. Ok, I didn't cry at the pyramids...that I recall.

Being an emotional person, a feelings-driven person, a justice-oriented person seems to be the target of many jokes and eye rolls lately.

I get that, like with everything, feelings can be taken too far. But I also know that, regardless of reason, making fun of young people for seeking counsel if they need it or crying if they need to can have detrimental consequences.

It's one of the reasons I didn't go to counseling for depression and anxiety until I was 27 years old. Because I was being silly. Because my life was easy. I had no reason to be sad.

Most of these kids aren't just sad because their person didn't win. It's about who won for them. It's about their friends that are different than them.  It's about their future and their graduation. As someone who graduated during the last recession, I can say that policy decisions are sometimes worth crying over (I didn't cry until I was turned down for every job I interviewed for).

I think we also forget sometimes that Jesus was a passionate person and felt things deeply. He was a compassionate champion for lepers, for widows, for the downcast.

He often addressed religious leaders with anger, while also being distraught that he couldn't seem to soften their hardened hearts. Their behavior outraged him but their spirits caused him grief. And remember when he turned tables? His anger served a purpose and renewed the mission the temple was created to serve.

He wept at the tomb of Lazarus. He grieved intensely about the destruction of Jerusalem.

This doesn't even encompass the emotional component of Jesus. Every interaction rocked his spirit and every person he came across stuck with him as he journeyed through his time on Earth.

I think young people today have yoked themselves with this Jesus. Circular theological discussions in a classroom have been replaced with the desire to act, to make a difference, to experience. Feelings have become the beating heart and the compass.

Does this approach sometimes lead to mistakes or poor judgment calls? Absolutely. Does it sometimes not give someone the entire perspective of a situation? I'm sure it does.

But if their learning curve is in the name of social justice and compassion and making a difference, who are we to criticize them and ridicule them?

Feelings and emotions are no longer a thing to be hidden; they are no longer seen as a hindrance but a strength; they are the window to the soul and an explanation of who we are.

Times have changed. People have changed. Motivations and inspirations have changed.

And that's OK.

Instead of all the negativity and shaming, we need to accept how the world works now. We need to reach them where they are and guide them using the knowledge we have of their language and their needs.

Our maturity can steady their newly discovered emotions and their ability to tap into their feelings can get us to become more aware of our own thoughts, fears, and dreams.

The world needs us both.

Let's act like it.
 


Tuesday, November 8, 2016

Wounded



I have been very flattered by the amount of people who have said they missed me and my posts during my three-month hiatus from Facebook. I have loved to entertain and make people laugh since I was old enough to walk in front of a camera and push my brothers out of the way. Most of our home videos are just of my face and singing voice- and I'm OK with that.

So why would I walk away from this platform to entertain? 

Because beyond the "likes" and the comments and the laughs, I was left feeling empty, raw, and often wounded.

It hasn't been an easy season of life; I had surgery in September to remove some ovarian cysts and when they were in there, they found widespread endometriosis (to save you a Google, the inside of my body has more cobwebs than your neighbor's house on Halloween). 

This diagnosis explains the infertility and does give us a possible path of hope. But when this is a card that's dealt to you, it's like you're already walking around without an extra layer of thick skin. 

As a typically thick-skinned person, it's hard to get used to this new bareness that is your life. You're one comment away at any time from becoming a volcanic display of emotion. You can act cordially to someone who asks if "you're next" and then melt down at the mention of a pregnant pause in a paragraph. It's nonsense. 

Add in this year's election cycle and you have the recipe for my Facebook hiatus. 

Not only was I an outsider because I don't have children but I also felt incredibly alone in how I was affected this political season. Imagine feeling like (irrational or not) that your Christian value is not only wrapped up in motherhood but it's also wrapped up in how you vote. 

That's two strikes. That's two blows to the spirit. 

Anyone who votes for her is evil and has no place in church. 

You're talking about me. 

What kind of moron...

You're talking to me. 

Friends; churches- I beg you for grace. Every hurtful question you ask or blanket statement you publicly assert always leaves someone out. It always leaves its stinger in someone while you go about your day. 

People, like me, are walking around raw- all for different reasons- doing the very best they can. 

Back to the volcanic display of emotions, Justin read this during our college devotional Sunday night and I had to sneakily remove the lump that grew in my throat (no 30-year-old woman wants to lose it in front of the cool kids). 

Hebrews 6: 18-19 

"So God has given us two unchanging things: His promise and His oath. These prove that it is impossible for God to lie. As a result, we who come to God for refuge might be encouraged to seize that hope that is set before us. That hope is real and true, an anchor to steady our restless souls, a hope that leads us back behind the curtain to where God is." 

When he read it aloud, it was almost as if my raw self was engulfed in the words. Refuge. Hope. It is impossible for God to lie. His promises give us hope. 

It's all the words I have craved all year and not received.

May we all seek out the wounded among us and provide refuge. May we remember there is a person behind every crude comment or joke. May we be a beacon of hope rather than a quick stop of judgment. 

Thanks for your love and your patience with me.