Category: Love

Truth: Happy (Radiantly).

by ShethLife / Love / Relationships / Seminary / Truth TuesdayLeave a Comment on Truth: Happy (Radiantly).

“Describe a time you were radiantly happy.
What do you value most in that memory?”

I came across this journal prompt yesterday, and I’m not sure how to write about it because truthfully I’m not wired that way anymore.  I admire people who can show their emotions, express themselves freely, and others around them don’t have to guess what is going on.  Me, I’m more of a wildcard, and others around me are continually left guessing as to what I’m feeling.

I wish I could express myself freely and have those ‘radiant’ feelings of joy and happiness, those times when I can cry, laugh, and weep.  I see people around me who are so very emotive and expressive, and I get a little jealous.  Somewhere deep in my mind, I suppose I’ve relinquished the thought that I can be radiantly happy.  Perhaps out of a fear of expecting bad to follow good I’ve denied myself the chance to experience this feeling, and instead have opted to remain staid and demure.  It’s safer this way.  There’s less chance of getting hurt if I can control this side of the ups and downs of life, right?

As I laid in bed last night I peered through my past, and attempted to find a moment when I experienced happiness in this way, but most of the ‘normal’ happiness-inducing moments of my life have been clouded by sorrow.  Finding out I was going to be a father was over-shadowed by divorce papers; finishing my bachelor’s degree was marred by a severely broken leg; a promising relationship was drowned out by unemployment; seminary has been a roller coaster of financial worries.  It’s not that I haven’t had moments that would call out in my life to be radiantly happy, but life has also beaten me down a bit and has left me a bit jaded.

I was talking with some people yesterday about this journal prompt and I told them that I don’t have a lot of moments of radiance because I don’t give myself permission to feel that way anymore.  I’m scared to do it because I’m scared of the bad things that may follow.  It’s silly to live my life in fear (especially a fear of this), but I’ve done it for so long that I don’t really know how to do it any differently.  I don’t know how to be ‘radiantly happy’.

Thinking about it, I realize I have a lot of work to do on myself to understand that it’s okay to feel emotions, to enjoy them, to enjoy life with all its ups-and-downs.  I have to figure out how to find radiant happiness (and the moments that provoke it).  I have to let go of my fears and worries, and just learn to enjoy life.  But I also have to understand that maybe, just maybe, I’m not a ‘radiantly-happy’ kind of person.  Maybe I don’t experience things in that way, and I need to be okay with that.

Whichever way I discover who/how I am, I pray that God can crack my emotions open, that my life can be changed, filtered, cleaned, and re-worked to become the man the Creator made me to become.  I pray that God can help us all to express ourselves in ways that others can understand, and that we can share these emotions with others in our lives.

much love. sheth.

 

Truth: Communion.

by ShethChristianity / Love / Relationships / Seminary / Truth TuesdayLeave a Comment on Truth: Communion.

Last night a group of my friends and I came together to send off one of our fellow seminarians who has been called elsewhere.  It’s a challenging situation, and many hearts were heavy because we didn’t want to see our friend leave – we had struggled together through classes and life, sharing in both the good and bad that comes with each new day – it’s like losing a family member.

Our friend’s request before we went our separate ways was for us to break bread together – to take communion as a group.  As my friend talked about why she felt at peace about her calling, a few of us prepared the meal we were about to take, and it was quickly placed before the group.  As seminarians we sort of hemmed and hawed at who should perform this sacred rite: partially because we may have felt unworthy to do such a thing, and partially because we held fast to the belief that only those who are ordained could serve communion.

Most of us who were present had been through our worship class and had learned how to serve communion – the words to be said were firmly in our hearts and minds and the movements were still present in our muscle memory; it is safe to say that we were prepared enough to do this act.  But none of us were willing to step up and do it.  Our friend who was leaving somewhat reluctantly agreed that she would serve the bread and the wine.

And it was the most beautiful and heartfelt meal I have had in seminary.  In those moments, no words of institution were spoken as we all knew them.  No big and flowing actions were completed as the bread was fractured and the wine was poured.  In that moment we were a group of friends – a group of believers – sharing in the love, grace, and beauty of God’s amazing gift to us.  I recognized Jesus in the voices around me as the bread was passed, and I recognized Jesus in the hands as the cup was presented to each of us.

There are moments in church when we say certain things and do certain things to refresh our memories of why we’re doing those things.  We are presented with beautiful prayers and words to mark the importance and full information of why we’re partaking in those actions.  We do all this stuff because it returns us through history to the very earliest churches who met in homes; small groups of men and women gathered together to hear the Word, to offer up themselves, and to eat together.

Truthfully, I believe that’s what made last night so beautiful – we were doing exactly what Christ had instructed us to do, and we were doing it as the early church had done.  There were no boundaries between anyone and the meal and there were no special words to be spoken; last night we were the church.  We were a group of people madly in love with one another, and madly in love with God, sharing a meal together to remember who we are, who loves us, and who our brothers and sisters are in our eyes and in God’s eyes.

I thank God for my friend who is preparing to leave – I thank God for her wisdom, her courage, her strength, her understanding, her compassion and love for everyone around her, and for her willingness to discern what the Divine is saying and to heed that voice.  And I thank God for her desire to break bread with us before she leaves – this moment has solidified our relationship, and I know that no matter where God chooses to place her (or me, or any of us), I know that she and I (and we) are connected forever.

That’s what communion is about – it connects me to God, and me to those who are enjoying it with me.  It brings about the remembrance of the beautiful sacrifice of Jesus, it solidifies our relationship with the Creator, and it unites people who are continually torn apart by society and life.

May God bless and bring peace to my friend’s heart (and mine, and yours), and may we continually remember those beautiful moments of eating together with our (and God’s) loved ones.

much love. sheth.

Truth: Comprehension.

by ShethChristianity / Essay / Love / Prayer / Seminary / Truth TuesdayLeave a Comment on Truth: Comprehension.

My grandmother’s frail hands slightly shook, uncontrolled, as they waivered over the opened Bible in front of her.  She looked at me, then back to the text, and then back at me.  I could see the frustration in her eyes: she was frustrated because she wanted to talk to me and ask me questions about the book, but she was also frustrated by the book itself.  She pushed her weakened voice until a tiny sentence came out, ragged and quiet, “How do I read this?”

In her 95 years my grandma encountered the Bible many times – she had been to church for nearly all those years, had a close relationship with God, and fostered the love of her Creator in her children and grandchildren.  Over the last few years of her life she occasionally admitted to me that she had struggled in reading and understanding the Bible and all it entailed.  Her beliefs never waivered much, but she wrestled with comprehending the words she read.

In that moment as we sat together in the nursing home, I desperately wanted to say something profound and inspirational to her.  I wanted to say something that would console her in her final weeks on this earth; I thought for a second and blurted out, “Keep doing what you’re doing.  Read, ask questions, pray, re-read, pray, ask questions.  And repeat that again and again.”  I smiled and held her hand, but I knew my answer wasn’t entirely profound, and definitely not inspirational.  I knew that my words frustrated her even more.

It was hard to guide my grandmother at that moment in how to read the Bible because she knew the Bible – she lived out its pages all her life as she fed the hungry and gave to the needy (Proverbs 31:20), raised a good family (Proverbs 31:28), encouraged her friends (Hebrews 10:25), talked with others about God (Mark 16:15), brought my grandpa utter joy and love (Proverbs 12:4), built a strong household (Proverbs 14:1), and tried to understand the Word (Proverbs 1:7).  She wasn’t just a hearer of the word, but a doer (James 1:22).

My grandma sought after God and found what she was looking for in spite of her doubts, fears, and frustrations.  She may have thought she wasn’t doing this Christianity thing right, but she was doing it exactly the way it should be done.  She plowed forward and fought to find God so she could hear that still, small voice in the deserts of her life.  She professed her love of God with her voice, with her smile, with her love for others.  She understood the Bible more than she thought she did, and taught many others around her how to understand it as well.

Truthfully, I would do well to heed the same words I gave my grandma and act as she did because I, too, struggle to understand the Bible.  Despite the classes I’ve taken in (and out) of seminary, I often feel that I don’t know much of anything, and I often wonder if I’m doing anything right.  I suppose part of my struggle is that I want to do everything correctly and honor what I read before I put it into practice, but I’m putting it into practice and not perfection.  I’m going to screw up, I’m going to make mistakes and errors (a lot – trust me, I will), but thankfully God gives me (and you, and my grandma) lots of leeway to try and figure it out as we go.

May we read, ask questions, pray, re-read, ask questions, pray, and re-read the word of God until we comprehend the tiniest of details, and may we act according to what we read, even if we don’t understand fully how to do it.

much love. sheth.

Truth: Flying Solo.

by ShethChristianity / Life / Love / Relationships / Seminary / Truth TuesdayLeave a Comment on Truth: Flying Solo.

.In order to shut my mind down at the end of the night, I often imagine myself in certain situations: super-secret spy, lonely drifter, inspirational teacher/coach, or mountain man. This last one tends to capture my interest a lot as I place myself in the wilderness of British Columbia, hundreds of miles from civilization with only a few small items to survive. I usually imagine going to this place to get away from it all and to live my life in peace, seclusion, and quiet.

While my imagination can take with this scenario a thousand different ways, I almost always run into a snag – there are certain times when I need help, either with lifting the beams for my hewn-log cabin, or carrying a moose through the swamplands, or fending off a pack of wolves. As much as I would like to imagine living life in solitude, I still run into the fact that I need others in my life.

I’ve tended to follow this train of thought in my real life as well, “I can do this on my own!” only to realize that a board is too heavy, or my car will fall on top of me, or I can’t face having a difficult conversation alone. The truth is I need people in my life to push me forward, to help me when I need it, to encourage me, to chastise me, to keep me accountable…I can’t do this life alone.

I had a sampling of beer with a friend yesterday and as we were talking about seminary, life, family, and my future, I realized how important this relationship is to me. Over the past week of being back in my hometown I’ve met with seven friends who truly care about me and want to help me succeed. They desire nothing but the best for me and hope I can become the real ‘Sheth’ they know is within me. These relationships move me beyond myself and my selfish thinking (that I can do life alone) and they help me realize that others care deeply about me.

As hard as we try, we need relationships with other people. Recently, I ran across this show “Mountain Men” on the History Channel and it intrigued me for a number of reasons, but mainly that these tough, rugged, scraggly people in remote locations depend on other tough, rugged, scraggly people for their survival. They reach out to one another to hunt, build homes, farm, raise their kids, chase off mountain lions, pick berries, drink wine, laugh, and play games. All people need people.

I’m about to wrap up my time in Salida and probably won’t be back for a few months, but I know I have a large group of people here who will always be there for me, will prod me on in life, and will call me out when needed. And as I return to Austin, I know I have a large group of friends there who will do the exact same thing. I shake my head at my former self for trying so desperately to go at it alone, but now I know the importance of living snd doing life with others.

May God grant us wisdom to reach out for others, and may the Creator place people in our lives who will help us to be who we are meant to be.

much love. sheth.

Truth: In Love.

by ShethChristianity / Life / Love / Relationships / Truth Tuesday1 Comment on Truth: In Love.

I’ve tried to look at myself through God’s eyes, and usually the only thing I can say afterward is, “Ugh…don’t bother.” I know me, the things I’ve done, and the person I am, and I can’t imagine God looking too kindly on me. But the Divine doesn’t have my vision. God knows that I’m not who I think I am – God knows me for who I truly am and keeps close by me: propping me up, giving me food and drink, and helping me through life. God keeps close to me and stays by my side because God loves me – not for anything else, not for any personal gains – the Divine just loves me.

For the past two years my parents and my aunt took care of my grandmother as she lived out her final years in the local nursing home. Essentially a full-time job and taking shifts, the three of them made sure that my grandma’s needs, wants, and desires were met. They gave her more attention, care, and love in one day than most ever receive while coming to the end of their lives in that building. The three of them sacrificed their own wants, their own desires, their own needs for the sake of their mother. They did it because they loved her – not for anything else, not for any personal gains – they just loved her.

Being involved in youth ministry over the years, I have witnessed parents struggle with how to deal with their teenage children. I’ve heard (and continue to hear) countless stories of kids having reckless sex, experimenting with drugs, behavioral issues, academic struggles, broken friendships, betrayal, lies, deceit, manipulation, depression…the list is as long as there are kids in this world. These parents are often at their wit’s end – not knowing what to do, where to go, or how to deal with their children. These parents read books, attend seminars, watch videos, ask questions, and keep their doors (to their houses and their hearts) open for when their kids are ready to return home. They do it because they love their kids – not for anything else, not for any personal gains – they just love them.

I’ve witnessed friendships turn to turmoil as the balance shifts from give and take to just take – one person sapping money, time, and possessions from the other. These friendships were once strong, with each giving and receiving equally with generosity and gratitude, but for whatever reason the relationship devolved into something terrible and greedy. The friend who is taking may not realize that the balance has shifted because there are deeper issues that they’re dealing with. But the giver keeps giving out of love for their friend and hopes that they will return to old times soon. They do it because they love their friend – not for anything else, not for personal gains – they just love them.

Over the past few months I’ve wrestled with love in my own life: I have a friend who became a romance, and while it was well and good, she was not entirely well and good, and wasn’t quite ready for a relationship. As we ended things, I was heartbroken because I had begun to invest my heart in her and had hoped for something more. For me, it’s easiest to end the relationship with a complete omission of that person from my life. But with her, I choose to remain friends and I continue to spend time with her – going to the store with her, meeting her in raggedy bars, studying with her, breaking bread with her, praying with her, discussing books with her, watching bad reality TV shows with her. I remain in her life, and she in mine, because I love her – not for anything else, not for personal gains – I just love her.

Truthfully, love isn’t always hearts and flowers and happy times (though sometimes it is) – usually love is mundane, chaotic and occasionally the undesired things and moments in life. Love is the good and the bad, the ugly and the pretty, the messy and the organized. Love is found in taking care of others, relentlessly holding out hope for the lost, sacrificing self, in waiting, and in being present.

May we love as unconditionally and wildly as we have been loved, and may we never back away from it.

.much love. sheth.

Truth: Breaking Point.

by ShethChristianity / Life / Love / Relationships / Truth TuesdayLeave a Comment on Truth: Breaking Point.

I’ve often wondered if Jesus ever got fed up with the disciples.  Did Bartholomew ask one too many questions, to the point that Jesus just got up and walked away?  Was there ever a moment when Jesus actually called out Judas’ for his sticky fingers in the moneybag?  Did Andrew ever ‘flat-tire’ Jesus, thinking it would be funny, but it only annoyed the Master? When Jesus was questioning Pete about the depth of his love, did Jesus need to ask three times, or was it just because the fisherman couldn’t get the concept?

Certainly, most wouldn’t want to read about Jesus snapping at his closest friends because it seems like that wouldn’t be very “Christ-like”.  But we can’t assume that Jesus allowed everyone to walk all over him in his state of love, either.  There must have been a balance – some way to be divinely loving but still humanly emotive.  He must have had boundaries, coping mechanisms, and friends who knew when to back away and recognize that He needed to be left alone.  I think Jesus demonstrated that the choice to love people is, more often than not, a difficult and trying act.

This past spring I had a flood of emotions as I realized just how beautiful, lovely, and amazing everyone around me is – both to me and to God – and I had a small taste of what God sees both in me and in the world.  But lately it’s been exhausting to just love (and love and love and love) in spite of what others say or do.  Little things annoy me with my classmates, my community, and my world.  Big things dig at me and grate at my patience.  I’m living life on the edge (and not the cool, wicked-awesome edge) of snapping.  Lately I have been wondering a few things: how the heck did Jesus just love others without going off the handle?  How do I balance between loving someone but still not having to like someone (is this even possible)?

My life right now in seminary has often been compared to a family…or a workplace…or a marriage…any way you make the comparison, the fact is that we are a group of people incredibly close together.  We are in class together, we are studying together, we are eating together, we are living together, we are going to the Local together…we are always together.  I imagine Jesus and the disciples in a similar situation.  They wandered Galilee like a traveling football team, but without the proper equipment.  They traveled to various towns performing miracles, feeding people, teaching them, giving completely of themselves and sleeping somewhere in the woods at night.

Truthfully, I think Jesus was able to cope with his disciples because he often went off alone.  He took the time to go do things by himself.  The text in Luke says that Jesus, “…would withdraw to deserted places and pray.”  In our minds I think we picture Jesus in benevolence before his father pouring out his heart about the world and the things going on around him – we imagine the divinity of Jesus in this moment.  But if we switch our minds over to thinking of Jesus’ humanity in this moment, the picture somehow changes and he becomes more like us.  Maybe he withdrew to go fishing; maybe he went off to shout and scream and complain about the disciples to God; maybe he went and just drew pictures in the sand; maybe he went for a hike.  Jesus had the weight of the world on his shoulders and the burden of discipling 12 men – he had a lot on his plate!

Jesus never loved any less in these moments – if anything he loved more because he knew he needed that space to re-center himself and his purpose.  If he was going to be useful, helpful, and a good teacher, he knew he needed some solitary time to do things for himself.  I’m sure in these moments he admitted that he didn’t always like the way Philip drank from a well, or was furious when they all argued over who was the greatest disciple, or was frustrated with people following him everywhere and never giving him a moment of peace.  He might not have liked these things, but he still loved the people.

There will be moments when people really annoy us and when we just don’t like others.  I love my friends, but I still have moments when I think I should just ditch them and start over (and I write this knowing they’ll read this, but they’ll understand).  We all have that point where we need to take a break from others and love ourselves.  It’s the most responsible thing to do, honestly, and it keeps relationships alive.  If Jesus – God-incarnate – needed time away from those he loved, I think it’s safe to say that we have permission to do so, as well.

much love. sheth.

Truth: Planning.

by ShethLife / Love / Truth TuesdayLeave a Comment on Truth: Planning.

This past weekend I joined my family in laying my grandmother’s remains to rest. She lived 95 incredible years on this earth – growing up in the wake of the Great Depression on dusty farmland in Illinois, raising a family on pennies a day, and traipsing across the country with my grandfather where he worked for the National Park Service in then-remote places like the Grand Canyon, Jackson Hole, and the Grand Tetons.

As I looked out at those in attendance at her service, I realized that there weren’t many people in the seats, but it’s understandable because she out-lived most of her friends. In 95 years she’s seen and done and been to more places than most will ever experience. She witnessed countless wars and recessions, the evolution from small airplanes on this planet to spacecraft on distant planets. She lived as the Supreme Court made gigantic, landmark decisions that changed our country. She saw people born, live their lives, and pass away. In her life on this earth she did more than she ever dreamed, more than she ever imagined, more than she ever hoped.

I was talking with a friend recently about long-term goals in life and neither one of us have ever seriously sat down and made goals because we never expected to live long-term. Both of us had contemplated suicide as youths and assumed that we didn’t need to make those kinds of goals. I was telling my friend about being in my high school career planning classes and having to write down five- and ten-year goals for my future and I couldn’t do it – I never dreamed that far ahead. At the time it seemed pointless and a waste of time. Even now I don’t regret my choice to not make those kinds of plans in life because I was dealing with larger issues than dreaming of the future. I was trying to survive the present.

And truthfully, now it’s a bit of a relief knowing I can do anything. I have no big goals that I have to attain or fail to achieve. The world and my future is wide open. I think that’s the way my grandmother lived her life, too. She didn’t have plans for her life: she went where she chose to go, learned to love the people and places she encountered, and made the best of any situation. No doubt she dreamed about doing things and going places, but she wasn’t let down when she couldn’t. She used her time to enjoy the people and places that were in her presence and didn’t get disappointed with the lost prospect of being somewhere else.

Certainly I have broad hopes and dreams – to be in a loving and committed relationship, serve others with all I have, care for my family…but these are all things I can do at any time. There is no telos to these hopes and dreams; I won’t think, “Well, I’m married. Good work, Sheth. I’m done with that.” I will have to work hour by hour, day by day on that relationship. These hopes and dreams I have are part of my ‘being’ – am I being loving today, am I being caring and compassionate to others, am I being a servant? I’m living my life in the present and doing what I can to enjoy each moment as it happens.

May the Creator of the present give us sight to be present and relish our time.

much love. sheth.

Love Sport

by ShethLife / Love / Poetry / Relationships / WritingLeave a Comment on Love Sport

In my debut to the game,
I broke Christine’s heart in 1997.
The volley was returned by
Lisa, Jessica, and Brittany –
each breaking my heart:
1-3.

I went on a run of my own:
Kristen, Melissa
Hannah, Marie.
No longer new to the sport,
I was on fire:
5-3.

My heart, being broken
by Amber and Julia,
balanced out the score
and it’s all tied up:
5-5.
Match point.

I think my next opponent
should be my last.
A long game that ends
in a tie, and we leave
the field together.
The score no longer kept.

Truth: Complex Simple Sentences

by ShethHome / Love / Truth TuesdayLeave a Comment on Truth: Complex Simple Sentences

After 95 years, my grandma moved from this life and into the next, and while expected, it is no less difficult. I’ve cried, prayed, and cried some more. I’ve called or messaged family and friends who needed to be notified. And I’ve thanked the fullness of where she is now for the values she instilled in me and the unending love she gave me.

While it’s difficult to mourn the loss of someone so great, if I were truthful I’d admit that the difficulty I’m having right now is being apart from my family and sharing in the grieving. I could share my stories and memories with my friends here in Texas but it’s not the same; I have to set up the context, describe locations, find pictures of certain items, cars, and breeds of dogs.

If I were with my family I could easily say something like, “Grandma’s cinnamon rolls at the table in Coaldale around Christmas…” and I wouldn’t even have to finish the sentence. Everyone in my family knows what every word in this sentence means, feels like, smells like, and tastes like. While my Texas friends might have a general understanding of cinnamon rolls, being with a grandma, and the feelings surrounding Christmas, to me and my family it’s different.

Our grandma made cinnamon rolls from scratch and when she would serve them the plate would be swallowed up by their size. The warmth was visible from the steam that came off of them as they were straight from the oven, and the scent of cinnamon and butter filled the house. We would get to eat them at least once when we visited, and they would be served with a tall glass of cold milk.

The table where we sat was stained dark and the table itself was thick and sturdy. At the head of the table sat my grandpa, while the rest of the family squeezed in where we could. At the height of family gatherings we would have 15-20 people around a table built for eight. But we didn’t just eat at this table – we played Skip-bo or UNO for hours on end; we planned out hunting trips while poring over topo maps; we shelled peas, shucked corn, and prepped green beans; we drew pictures, decorated Christmas ornaments, and dyed Easter eggs; the adults talked and the kids listened all around this one table.

Coaldale was where my grandparents chose to spend their retirement and they built a house in the hills, far removed from any city. When I would go to my grandparents’ I got to experience ‘country’ life: dirt roads, no traffic, and a slower pace. I would get to be in nature, too: climbing pinion trees, chasing away magpies, stalking deer, and catching lizards. The house itself was different from the houses that were crammed together in the suburbs of Denver: constructed of cut logs, their house had wood floors and ceilings, and was heated by a wood-burning fireplace, but it never felt overly ‘rustic’. My grandpa, dad, and uncles spent hours building this place and took pride in its completion. It was comfortable, warm and inviting, quiet, tranquil, and filled with scents that ranged from cooking ingredients, to my grandpa’s Old Spice after shave, to the fresh spring breezes that brought in the smells of blooming sage and pine.

Holidays were the times when, in spite of everything that may have been going on, my family would always get together; nearly every year I would spend either Christmas or Easter at my grandparents’ house. And we would go to their church – usually on the holiday itself, but if not, then soon before or after; my grandma would always give us grandkids a quarter to place in the offering plate. As a child those holidays held more than just the religious meanings for me. Christmas was filled with presents, hot chocolate, games, sledding, watching TV while laying beside the fireplace, trying to stay awake and listening for any hints as to what I’d be getting as gifts, laughter and smiles, childish fights and scuffles. The Easter weekend would be spent going to town, getting eggs and PAAS egg dying kits and then attempting to craft the best egg we possibly could (my dad usually out-doing everyone with his intricately drawn designs using markers).

All this (and so much more that cannot be described) is wrapped up in the simple and incomplete sentence, “Grandma’s cinnamon rolls at the table in Coaldale around Christmas…” I look forward to being with my family in the coming weeks so we can share in these stories and the memories they hold. Until then, I will rest on my own memory and cherish the unending gifts my grandma gave me.

much love. sheth.