Friday, July 24, 2020
Monday, May 23, 2016
Leaving 2.0
Leaving. One simple word. So many meanings, reactions, feelings, and consequences. It offers a unique perspective, as you are able to look back at what has been and imagine what may be ahead. It is a watermark, a shift.
It's a word full of joy, loss, anticipation and choice.
Our first leaving, like our last, is beyond our control. We are thrust from safe darkness into a chaotic, scary, amazing, beautiful gift of a world. We come into this thing screaming at the top of our lungs (By the way, I think we should do more of that). It's an extraordinary scene to witness. Life, even in its simplest, purest form is truly amazing.
Then, later, we leave the ground as we lift ourselves and take our first steps. Our first taste of what we will chase our entire lives. Freedom. Freedom to explore, to search, to find, to rise. And that very moment, those first steps, the thing for which the parents have been waiting so long, becomes at once their greatest joy and deepest fear. It's the beginning of their losing control. It's your first steps, your first steps toward leaving.
Sadly, on the other side of this, for too many, their earliest memories of leaving came in a childhood interrupted by a parent walking away. For those who experienced a dad or a mom leaving, it is forever imprinted on the heart. It leaves its mark on one's life, influencing every future relationship and decision. Sometimes I think we have become so used to divorce that we forget the impact it has on everyone involved. We sort of blow it off as a reason when considering why a child is struggling. Obviously, leaving is necessary sometimes. But sometimes, we just let go of each other too easily. Most parents still love, protect and mold their children; even if it's separately. But, I will never understand how some parents just leave their children behind. This leaving is life altering.
As we get older, leaving becomes a sort of passage to independence, even adulthood. It's freeing, full of possibility, new and a little scary. Do you remember when you left home? I do. I was going to conquer! It never really crossed my mind that I wouldn't achieve every dream I had. I had limitless ambition and creativity. Of course I also partied too much and made my share of mistakes. But back then mistakes were easier to rebound from. Life was a lot less complicated. Every relationship, experience, dollar made or night out was a first. When I screwed up, I just sort of moved on without feeling enormous consequences. But, not everything was great. It was also a time of wrestling with my beliefs, figuring out who I was going to be and finding out what was really important to me. Honestly, I think it was in this period of my life that I hurt the most people. I suppose I would say this is when I first experienced real regret; but also a heck of a lot of happiness. I came through this period a little wiser, somewhat more competent at life and a little damaged. I wish I could go back and experience this season of my life with who I am today.
Another kind of leaving comes with our "adult" relationships. Depending on the circumstances...and which side of the “leaving” you are on, it can be a release or a devastating process. Timing is everything. Mark Heard sings in “Strong Hand of Love" - Time marches away like a lost platoon. We gracefully age as we feel the weight of loving too late and leaving too soon. (If you don't know Mark Heard, go locate his music now. You can read this later) We often settle when we shouldn't settle, resist when we should give in, leave when we should stay and stay when we should leave.
Sometimes, our world has built up so much garbage we take a look and decide we have to start fresh, somewhere else. So, we agonize over what we will leave behind. We take inventory: our friends, our places, our routines, careers, relationships, and everything else we have collected to build a life. This leaving is not as easy or exciting as the first time we left “home.” This leaving is difficult and even confusing, with a sense of sadness and regret. It forces us to look at our “wasted time” and “unfulfilled dreams.” But it is sometimes necessary. It feels like the first time you held your breath under water. You breathe in the biggest breath you can, close your eyes and plunge. On the other side of that plunge, you emerge face to the sky, open wide your eyes and exhale! It's like being born again in a way. You feel stronger and even clearer because you have been under the weight of the water in the darkness of eyes closed. Isn't life that way sometimes? It takes going under to realize how lifeless you really have been.
Sometimes leaving is more about a state of mind. When we choose to forgive, we leave anger and bitterness behind. Other times, we choose to move on from our mistakes, leaving our shackles behind. Life always seems to be about movement. We move from one victory to a new challenge; from a deep valley to the mountaintop; from sickness to healing; from chaos to peace; and hopefully from selfishness to love.
Finally, we all leave. One way or another, we all leave this life. It's the one leaving of which we have no choice. We can't stay. If we have loved well, we will be mourned by those we have touched. They will tell stories and sing songs while they shed tears. And there will probably be good food too. But none of that will really matter all that much because we will be gone. I believe I will go on. I will see those I have lost and experience new things I only sort of understand now. I will know why everything happened and I will see love clearly, not dimly like I do now. Hopefully, my last leaving will be like my first. My expectation and peace will calm any fear I still have. My screams will turn to calm, any hazy darkness will become light and clear, and I will fall into the hands of love, just like I did at my birth.
Leaving. I'm not sure why I've been thinking about this word lately. Maybe, it's because of all the crazy events of my life this year, complete with poison spider bites, moving, major surgery, months being stuck in my house recovering from surgery, changing relationships (some ending, some beginning, some transitioning), shifting priorities, and a host of things I haven't even fully processed yet.
Then again, perhaps it's just the changing of the seasons. Winter into Spring. And now, Summer is approaching. I love the smell of the air when seasons change. It reminds me of songs I have listened to during periods of my life. I can feel the sense of new beginnings and the potential of yet unknown adventures. It urges me to leap, to try.
It also reminds me how small we are in the universe. And how we are truly not in control of everything. What a freeing thought that is. Life is controlled by fear far too often.
So yeah, it could just be all of that, the natural feeling of change that comes with seasons and transitions. Or...something big might be coming. I don't know for sure. And, that's a good thing.
-Matt
Tuesday, April 28, 2015
Perceptions (What I Learned From a Bunch of High School Students)
Diversity:
Webster: the quality or state of having many different forms, types, ideas,
etc.
the state of having people who are different races or who have different cultures in a group or organization
Student: how inside our differences, we are all the same
I knew when the students started arriving this was going to be a different kind of day. I could tell here was a different energy in the room, a special kind of excitement and anticipation. I was right. On an ordinary Friday, at a school in East Nashville, I saw hope, compassion and unity in a group of extraordinary high school students.
My colleague, Eric Johnson, has been doing amazing work with his “Diversity Day” events for a while now. I've listened to him passionately talk about how inspiring the kids who have attended these events are, but due to scheduling, I hadn't had the opportunity to participate before this one. “Diversity Day” is a sort of cultural exchange program where a rural school and a city school send a group of students to spend the day together, to “walk in each others’ shoes.” At the beginning of the day, the two schools lined up in the middle of the gym. Then the students, one by one, walked toward the middle to meet their partner for the day. The pairs then stuck together for the entire day. The two schools involved this time were Jackson County and Maplewood. Maplewood had already spent the day in Jackson County, and now it was Jackson County’s turn to spend the day at Maplewood. In addition to Eric and I leading them through activities, the students ate lunch together, toured the building, walked the halls during class changes, and attended a class with their partner.
I wish I could describe every poignant moment, but there just isn't enough space. So, I’ll highlight a few. The first thing that struck me was the visual of them simply hanging out together. In the beginning of the day, they were encouraged simply to talk and get to know their partners. I didn't see any tension, anger, or much fear at all. Black, White, Hispanic, Asian, poor, rich, rural, and urban, just talking, being with each other. Without the outside influences and noise they hear every day from the world around them, they were just kids. They were connecting.
Another moment came after lunch. We purposely divided them by the color of their eyes and treated brown eyes as if they were better than the others. They went to lunch first. We praised them. On the other hand, we made the others wait, and we talked to them as if they were second best. We then said that they were not allowed to eat with the brown-eyed students. However, once again, these amazing students rose to the occasion. During our time of processing the activity after lunch, the students spoke with determination, purpose, and clarity. Several had defied our instructions, a kind of civil disobedience if you will. We asked them why they went against the rules. The answers filled me with hope. They said they would not bend to the will of those who seek to divide. They stated that their friendship and loyalty to those they cared for, their new partners, outweighed any “societal” pressure to shun, demean, or divide. In other words, they stood up for an ideal in the face of pressure to do the wrong thing. I was reminded of the Robert Kennedy quote:
It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped. Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring those ripples build a current which can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.
Finally, I was most moved during the “Perception Line” activity. Students stood in a line across the gym, each student holding the hand of their partner, then connecting to the rest of the group. Eric read a series of statements filled with perceptions, privileges, and biases. Rooted in culture, economics, social standing, family makeup, opportunities (or lack thereof), ethnicity, and many other factors, the statements hold a mirror up to many of our societal perceptions. Each statement, based on its positive or negative impact on an individual’s status in our society, caused some students to step forward or backward, while others stood still. Students watched as some of their friends continued to step backwards. I watched as they desperately tried to hold on to their partners’ hands as they stood farther and farther apart. Even though it was just a game, a simple activity, they inherently didn't want to let go. They refused to let even one of their new friends breakaway. They didn't let anyone fall, no matter how uncomfortable it became. The students were bonded. They refused to let differences, struggles, or even space divide them. At the end of the previous Diversity Day, when Maplewood visited Jackson, one of the students said, “the only thing that separates us is a hundred miles.” Today, they found a way to close even that divide.
I may have gone there to inspire the students, but I was the one who left inspired.
Still, as if on cue, the “real world” invaded almost immediately. That evening, I began receiving messages from my friends and family in my hometown. See, I grew up in Baltimore, Maryland. I often visit. The city is part of who I am. Baltimore began descending into chaos and violence this weekend. It’s growing. Even as I write this, I’m receiving messages from family. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of reading some of the comments that follow news stories online. They are filled with hatred, violence, ignorance, and desperation. Yet, in the middle of it all, I hear the voices of the young people from Jackson County and Maplewood. I hear their hope. I see their fresh perspective. I feel their truth-filled defiance. I know, yes I know, they will do it better. They will continue to usher in change. They are ready and willing, if we provide the space, to bridge the deep waters that are between us, to bring peace in the midst of chaos, and hold up hope in a sometimes hopeless world.
I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality... I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word. -Martin Luther King, Jr.
Yes, I think I prefer the student’s definition of diversity over the Webster’s definition:
Diversity: “How inside our differences, we are all the same”
April 2015
Monday, December 22, 2014
All Is Well (Christmas 2014)
This may not have been the most chaotic, upside-down, violent year in history, but it certainly felt like it sometimes. Our world just seemed completely off-kilter. This little spinning planet was filled with new wars, old wars, disease, power-hungry politicians, corrupt leaders, hurting people, famine, and countless other atrocities. I can't answer why. I simply don't have the perspective from my vantage point in this giant universe to completely understand.
Still, I don't think the story of Christmas is at odds with our current state of existence. It tells, in a rather beautiful way, how peace entered a violent, chaotic, and lonely world through a fragile, innocent vessel. Not unlike today, the rulers, religious leaders, and desperate people of the day expected a political or military leader to lead them to victory over real and imagined enemies. But, that is not the story we find. Instead, we read of strength, power, peace, and life, through the birth of our most basic need in human form. Love.
Love is an unstoppable force. It lives everywhere, showing itself in even the most unexpected places. I certainly stumbled upon it this year. It was all around me. I heard it in the sound of music playing through my MP3 player. And it washed over me at live concerts. I read it in the words of authors and poets. I saw it in the kindness and patience of those who work to educate children and help families. I was comforted by it through the listening ears of those I call Friend, in my most difficult moments. I was inspired by it through the courageous words of young people I was honored to speak with and train. I believed in it again because of companionship I never expected, or deserved. And I was saved by it, over and over, in the quiet solitary moments, when a peace I will never understand fell on me.
Our world will not stop turning around us. Bad things will still happen. But, if we are willing to see, we will find glimpses of hope, life, love,and goodness all around us. And yes, if we are open, we will even find peace. I think we all could use a little more of that these days.
(I put the following video together rather quickly, using pics from around the internet. The pictures are not always the highest quality, but they work. This is one of my favorite Christmas songs. If you've had a hectic, crazy, difficult day...or year, sit back and watch/listen)
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
Moments Of Clarity
(Originally posted on 6/17/10)
Movies, books, plays and even great songs have them-those moments when everything changes. Someone figures it out. Someone makes a move. It might be Sherlock Holmes putting all the clues together, or when Harry finally realizes he should have been with Sally a long time ago-a really long time ago. Maybe it was the first time Superman realized he was able to "leap tall buildings in a single bound," or when Will realizes he should go see about a girl, or...well, the list goes on and on. Moments. Moments when everything changes.
This is story. Something inside of us relates to it. Buried in our DNA is a connection to the arc of a story. Writers didn't invent these ideas. They respond to them. Think about your own life. What if there were never any conflicts or tough decisions? What if there weren't any times of struggle or loneliness? It sounds great on the surface, but it would be, in reality, a terribly boring life. Without struggle, we wouldn't understand accomplishment, or the feeling of winning. Without conflicts, we would all think exactly the same way, at the same time. Without tough decisions, we wouldn't know courage or gain experience. Without loneliness, we wouldn't know how incredible companionship is.
The problem is, we don't always realize we're in these moments. We tend to stroll through life, dealing with issues as they come, trying to smooth everything out, so that we can get to our two week vacation to Disneyland. We don't listen to the cues that life gives us. We miss the subtle whispers nudging us to go somewhere, to change course, or to sit still.
We end up living decent lives, but not great lives, not the lives we dreamed of when we were kids. Don't you remember? Maybe you were supposed to be a fireman or an astronaut. Maybe you daydreamed of being a ballerina, a football player, a missionary, or president.
Perhaps, you were supposed to be a musician and writer. You were going to tour the world and write songs that would race up the charts. I was. I used to escape the world around me when I closed my eyes. The darkness would turn to pictures of me singing in front of thousands. Of course, in many of my “visions”, after achieving fame, I would develop a drug problem and become suicidal. Only my inner circle of real friends could help me come back. Then, I would return to greater stardom than before. You know VH1 Behind The Music style.
Anyway, I think I wrote my first real song at 11, but I had been putting on concerts in my house long before that. Music, acting and writing were everything. So much so, one of my majors in college was music. I moved to Nashville in 1995 and everything was working. I recorded an album, performed all over the place. Beyond just the music and all that, I genuinely wanted to change the world. I wanted to make things better. The problem was that throughout the years, I had developed huge fear. No one knew it really; not even me. I also got real comfortable and developed some habits that shouldn't have come until after I was famous. I was a kid who grew up with very little and now I had pretty much everything I wanted. So, I exchanged my dreams for comfort. I pushed things aside to have friends, things, strangers' respect and, of course, a girl. I'm not diminishing my life. This is not a sad story. This isn't about my career choices. I just want to illustrate a point. I've done good things in my life so far. I ran a group home for kids in need. I've counseled hundreds of people through the toughest and greatest times of their lives. I have great friends and family. And, I've been so fortunate to start recording and performing again over the past few years. Life is good. But there could have been greatness. Thanks to grace, there still can be. I see fantastic things coming. I've completed a book that is going through the editing process. My speaking schedule is full, taking me just about everywhere. I can't think of a time when I was so completely prolific in my songwriting. I'm ready to find my other half. Life is a good thing and I am greatly loved.
But, what if I had stayed on my original course? What if I never stopped? Where would I be? What if I had listened along the way to those whispers, and sometimes shouts? I've been taking inventory of my life, trying to learn from my good decisions and bad decisions. From this vantage point, it's all completely obvious what I should have done. Yet, I didn't.
But, I did wake up. It started in 2002. I was attacked in my home when a client came into my bedroom and tried to kill me. Imagine waking up to a fireplace poker missing your face by less than an inch. I fought off my attacker for about 30 minutes and ran out the front door in my boxers. You'd think I would have heard that cue. But, I didn't right away. I'm sort of slow like that. But, something started happening in 2005. I started coming back to life. I was writing, recording...living. I even had a spiritual awakening after years of numbness. Then, on October 16, 2006 (the day after my birthday), I went to get out of bed and I couldn't walk for a short time. Over the next few weeks, I started forgetting how to do things, passing out, etc. I was scared as hell. Then on Halloween night, I ended up in the emergency room and my long journey of recovery began. I'm not going to get into all the details here. It's too much information. But, I'm doing well. I had surgery and went through some treatment. I still take lot of medication and many, many tests. But, it looks like I'll live a relatively long, healthy life in spite of my illness. I have to say, I wish I would have listened earlier. I listened this time.
I had my moment. Different people call it different things. Oprah calls it your “aha" moment. Christians may recognize it in a person's decision to “get saved” or in someone "listening to the Spirit." Those from the Jewish faith may say it's a “burning bush” moment. Mental health professionals sometimes call it a “moment of clarity." It's that moment when it clicks. It makes sense. And more than just knowing it in your head, you feel it in your soul. As a person who counsels people for a living, it can get incredibly frustrating when the person you are working with knows what to do, but doesn't do it. You feel like you're banging your head against the wall, giving them cues as to what to do. But they don't do it. They just babble on about the way they do things...even though the way they do things isn't working. I'm sure everyone reading this has felt this way with friends or family or someone else. Have you? Don't get discouraged. They're just not ready. They hear you. They have the information. They just aren't ready for their moment yet-their moment of clarity. Instead of continuing to preach to them, stand by them, support them, love them and gently point them in the right direction. And don't get mad when they come to you one day, changed, because someone else told them exactly what you have been telling them for years. You were a step along the way. You were part of the foundation. Celebrate with them in their moment. More importantly, help them make it last.
That brings me to my last thoughts on this. When you have your “aha” moment, don't stop with the feeling. How many of us have watched some program about a cause that moved us, but we did nothing? The feeling wore off in a few days. When your moment comes, do three things: feel it deeply, make a decision and take action. There's a scene in (I know I shouldn't reference this movie because I will lose whatever “guy credentials” I have, but...) My Best Friend's Wedding when the Julia Roberts character and the “best friend” guy are on a boat and they are about to go under a bridge. Julia Roberts had been trying all day to tell him she was in love with him. The guy says that his “fiancee” (Cameron Diaz) says that if you feel something, you should say it. Just say it, right away, or the moment will pass. As he's saying this, they pass under the bridge and Julia Roberts lets the moment go. It's a terrible moment. But it illustrates what I'm saying perfectly. Don't let your moments of clarity pass without motion. Otherwise, you' might be missing out on who you truly should be.
So, listen. Truly listen to the whispers, the cues. Don't let your moment pass. No matter how many mistakes you have made, or wrong roads you have traveled, the past does not have to be your shackles. The past can be steps, watermarks. When your moment comes, fall on the grace you have been given and breathe in the future. Take it all in...and move.
Take care of yourself,
Matt
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
From the Road
Life on the road is a curious thing. It can feel completely the same and completely different, fully new and utterly old, all at the same time. It's a good thing in my life.
My view is a lot different out here. I don't have all the distractions of home. My entire focus is bringing a message of hope to young people and the adults who speak into their lives daily.
Most of the time I travel with a team (The times I travel alone form a completely different experience...I'll save that story for another day). Our team is a special group. We all come from different worlds, surrounded with our own joys and complications. At this point it's a well oiled machine. But, trust me, it took time, work, experience, and patience. Each one of us has a very strong personality, with our own gifts, biases, and agendas. Yet the differences are the reason it all works. See, all these variables come together to make the one thing, the one goal we have in common, stronger. This team, these people, all want to bring hope and light to those we encounter on the road. That's why it all works. This is the intersection where differences and vision come together to create action and change. Our own agendas are secondary to our shared purpose. We want to see people live more peacefully, with less violence, hate, hurt, and strife. We believe each and every soul we encounter has a purpose, even if they don't know it yet.
And this is why the road is a good place to be. Sometimes I grow tired. At times, I'm downright exhausted. But, the payoff is worth it. I get the absolute honor and privilege to help facilitate the changing of lives. Even on my worst days, when my attitude isn't right, I still get to share words that may grip someone's heart, cause inspiration, shift a view, or even alter a life's course. Wow. I am blessed. And, without a doubt, I am absolutely amazed, amazed beyond understanding.
So today, as we drive away from another event in a small town most people will never hear of, I am whispering thanks here in the backseat. How can I not?
Oh, and the best part is yet to come. You see, now I get to wonder when I will hear the first amazing story from this little community. And, believe me, I will. I always do.
Friday, July 4, 2014
Morning Peace
Every once in a while, a
moment catches me unguarded. Whether it's a crisp morning breeze, the
sounds of spontaneous laughter, the subtle dawn waves on the beach,
or sudden silence, these moments capture my attention. It's as if
time pauses for a reflection, and I can't look away.
Unfortunately, we try so
hard, so often, to leap past these short whispers of peace. I know I
do. I know I shouldn't. So, I turn on music, television, my phone,
another argument, the internet, a book, or whatever other distraction
I can locate to avoid these unrealized gifts. Let's admit it, it's
actually easier to embrace chaos, conflict and even war than to find
an armistice.
It's difficult to stop
moving, be still, reflect, and be alone with our thoughts, regrets,
and even hopes. Fear exists in that space. But fear is not something
from which we need to turn. No, it is something we need to feel, and to
walk through, in order to understand calm.
We
live in a loud world. Still, every so often, in the middle of the
noise, peace enters. It always has. It's very nature is a
contradiction to the world around us. It jars us, heals us, scares
us.
Peace
seldom arrives triumphantly. In rebellion, peace more often arrives
in the quiet. At times, it even appears in silence. Silence is
amazing. It is here, when I listen, I find something true.
Yes,
this morning I woke to peace. I chose not to war with it this time.
Instead, I loosened my fists, lifted my arms in surrender, felt it's
presence, listened to it's calm, and looked directly where it lead my
eyes. I now have its memory. I will not soon forget.
Friday, July 5, 2013
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
"Us" Thoughts on Family
The following is a simple poem I wrote for my mother during the Christmas holiday...
"Us"
Thoughts on Family
Who are we
Who are we
What makes us?
These are the colors
Painted by life's brush.
Shades of joy are found
Sheltered in our walls
Comfort fills this house
When all around us falls.
Partially defined
By how we overcome
Struggles we have faced
Battles justly won.
Unsteady, we have have been
Then, solid, bold and strong
In moments, cracked and fragile
Yet, repaired before too long.
At times, separated
By words, miles and conflicts
Still, never found beyond
That which can be fixed.
More than simply friends
A family so sublime
Broken by mistakes
But tethered by our time.
Never once abandoned
Though sometimes deeply burned
Always healed by truth
Of lessons we have learned.
We are this
This is us
Bound by grace
Marked by love.
Matthew Gress
December 2012
Saturday, December 22, 2012
All is Well
The link at the end of this post is to a video for one of my favorite Christmas songs,"All is Well." It seems even more poignant this Christmas. I know statistically it wasn't the most chaotic, upside-down, violent year, but it certainly feels like it was. We experienced more war, flooding, a horribly divisive election, drought, and of course, the terrible loss of innocent children and adults last week. I can't answer why. I just don't have the perspective from my vantage point in this giant universe to understand. Still, I don't think the story of Christmas is at odds with our current state of existence. It tells, in a rather beautiful way, how peace entered a violent, chaotic, and lonely world through a fragile, innocent vessel. The rulers, religious leaders, and desperate people of the day expected a political or military leader to lead them to victory (sound familiar?). But, that is not the story we read. We read of strength, power, peace and life, through the birth of our most basic human need in human form...Love. Our world will not stop turning around us. Bad things will still happen. But, if you remain open and willing to see, you will find glimpses of hope, life, and goodness all around you. And yes, even peace.
(I put this video together rather quickly using pics from around the internet...not always the highest quality, but it works. If you've had a hectic, crazy, difficult day...or year, sit back and watch/listen)
Watch "All Is Well" on YouTube
Friday, March 23, 2012
Why Hugo Shouldn't Buy a Zoo (And A Few Other Things I Believe)
"I'd imagine the whole world was one big machine. Machines never come with any extra parts, you know. They always come with the exact amount they need. So I figured, if the entire world was one big machine, I couldn't be an extra part. I had to be here for some reason. And that means you have to be here for some reason, too. "
"Maybe that's why a broken machine always makes me a little sad, because it isn't able to do what it was meant to do... Maybe it's the same with people. If you lose your purpose... it's like you're broken."
-Quotes from the movie "Hugo"
I dare you to remember for a moment who you were going to be when you were young. Think about the things you were going to conquer and people you were going to love. Are you there? Close your eyes, quiet the room, and let the memories roll through your mind like a movie and water your soul with the hope that existed then. Did you forget about some of those dreams and ambitions from the younger version of yourself? For just a second, feel that loss and disappointment.
Now, for just a moment, let go of all the stresses and busyness of life. Ask yourself, "Why can't I still get there?"
What have you filled your life with to stop thinking about things like dreams, hopes, grand adventures and real love? Is it stuffed with too much of something, like work, TV, food, or noise? Are you disconnected from the people around you? When was the last time you really talked-really talked-to your spouse or close friends? When was the last time you really laughed with those people? I'm not talking about the shallow, social laugh. I mean the guttural, deep laugh that leaves you aching with joy. Life gets so tangled up sometimes. Even worse, it gets "normal" and mundane. We tend to settle into routines that help us manage our lives, rather than experiencing real living, breathing, feeling, adventuring, changing, and loving. Why can't you still invent something? Why can't you climb a mountain somewhere in Europe? Or, write a book? Record some songs? Play baseball? Dance? Act? Become a chef? Change some lives?
Or, love your wife or husband better?
I believe the quotes at the beginning of this post contain truth. I do not think there are any "extra parts" in this world. I believe we were created carefully and deliberately. And yes, losing your purpose is like being broken. We're all a little broken. Age does that. Whether it's physical, or it's more about a wounded spirit, we are all in need of repair. Some need a little, and some need a lot. But instead of seeking real healing, we look for quick fixes, like the latest self help guru, super preacher, prescription, or diet.
Bars don't thrive because of alcohol. They thrive because of loneliness. You can drink a bottle of rum at home for a lot less money.
Crooked TV evangelists don't get rich because they have life changing things to say you can't hear at any local church, surrounded by people who really care for you. They get rich because they seem larger than life and offer "1,2, 3" plans that will fix everything, while making you rich and happy...for a small donation.
There isn't a new ab machine every year because it is groundbreaking technology. No, they show up because there is always a new crop of people (or old crop frustrated by the lack of results from last year's machine), hungry for a new fast way to a great body that will make them happy, healthy and attractive.
In order to really find happiness, we have to go deeper. And yes, we have to work harder...at least up front. We have to open ourselves up and take chances, knowing we may get hurt or fail miserably. But, that's part of it all. That's what makes life worth it.
Without the lows, we wouldn't really feel the highs. Without the hurts, we wouldn't know how good it is to be healed. Without loss, we wouldn't understand found. Without empty, there would be no complete. Without lonely, we wouldn't know love when she comes home.
Michael Jordan once said, "I've missed more than 9000 shots in my career. I've lost almost 300 games. 26 times, I've been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I've failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed."
Mickey Mantle said, "During my 18 years I came to bat almost 10,000 times. I struck out about 1,700 times and walked maybe 1,800 times. You figure a ballplayer will average about 500 at bats a season. That means I played seven years without ever hitting the ball."
It takes courage to stop the numbing and dream again. It takes a leap to let yourself want again. But it's a good risk.
Still, don't stop with the feeling. Be bold and write your vision down. Then, get really crazy and outline a plan. Write down where you want to be in 7 days, 7 months, and 7 years. Then, every week, update it. Post it where you can see it everyday. Long term goals easily get hazy and we lose our way. For most of us, especially those of us with attention issues, having shorter watermarks along the way help keep us going in the right direction. By the way, these goals and visions aren't supposed to just be about fantastic accomplishments, or career. Some can be. But, hopefully you'll also write things like, "In the next 7 days, I hope to laugh with my wife the way we used to." In seven months, "I will have my book finished." "I will forgive my dad...and tell him." "I will forgive myself...and move on."
Hope is empty without action. Love's just a feeling without commitment, work and hard choices. Do not say you will start tomorrow. Start now. I invite you to wake up from dreaming and create a new reality.
Emotion must be followed by action or you will settle back into your old life. In the movie We Bought A Zoo, the character Benjamin Mee says, “You know, sometimes all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage, just literally twenty seconds of just embarrassing bravery. And I promise you, something great will come of it.”
I dare you to take off the mask, let people know you. I dare you to love enough that you can be hurt. I dare you to speak loud enough to be heard, and be silent enough to hear. Believe enough so that others laugh at you. Be sober enough to feel, courageous enough to fail.
I believe in miracles and healing. I'm not talking about someone growing a new leg. I've never seen that. Though, I believe just about anything is possible. No, I'm talking about more amazing miracles. I've seen the broken become whole and the lost find their way home. I've seen the fatherless become fathered, the unloved become loved, the losers win, and the outcast invited in. But these miracles aren't possible without us. They won't happen unless you and I awaken, open our eyes and take a few steps. We have to start the journey. And, along the way, we have to pick up someone else and walk with them a while...maybe a lifetime. Don't be afraid to ask for help yourself. Pray.
I wish you happiness. Even more, I wish you peace. Not the substitute type of "peace" that is really just numbness; but, the kind that comes from knowing you have a reason, a purpose, an adventure.
Don't live someone else's purpose either. Think about the two movies I referenced above. Imagine if Hugo would have bought a zoo instead of repairing machines. What if Benjamin Mee lived behind a clock, fixing machines, instead of loving his family and restoring a neglected zoo? Neither movie would have ended well.
Another quote from We Bought a Zoo that seems to fit comes from little Rosie Mee. The movie starts shortly after the death of Rosie's mom. One night, when the neighbors are having a party, with lots of friends, laughter and music, she says, "Their Happy is too loud." I hope nothing less than for you to come to a place where your happy is "too loud."
Now, stop reading this and go start a new adventure...
"Maybe that's why a broken machine always makes me a little sad, because it isn't able to do what it was meant to do... Maybe it's the same with people. If you lose your purpose... it's like you're broken."
-Quotes from the movie "Hugo"
I dare you to remember for a moment who you were going to be when you were young. Think about the things you were going to conquer and people you were going to love. Are you there? Close your eyes, quiet the room, and let the memories roll through your mind like a movie and water your soul with the hope that existed then. Did you forget about some of those dreams and ambitions from the younger version of yourself? For just a second, feel that loss and disappointment.
Now, for just a moment, let go of all the stresses and busyness of life. Ask yourself, "Why can't I still get there?"
What have you filled your life with to stop thinking about things like dreams, hopes, grand adventures and real love? Is it stuffed with too much of something, like work, TV, food, or noise? Are you disconnected from the people around you? When was the last time you really talked-really talked-to your spouse or close friends? When was the last time you really laughed with those people? I'm not talking about the shallow, social laugh. I mean the guttural, deep laugh that leaves you aching with joy. Life gets so tangled up sometimes. Even worse, it gets "normal" and mundane. We tend to settle into routines that help us manage our lives, rather than experiencing real living, breathing, feeling, adventuring, changing, and loving. Why can't you still invent something? Why can't you climb a mountain somewhere in Europe? Or, write a book? Record some songs? Play baseball? Dance? Act? Become a chef? Change some lives?
Or, love your wife or husband better?
I believe the quotes at the beginning of this post contain truth. I do not think there are any "extra parts" in this world. I believe we were created carefully and deliberately. And yes, losing your purpose is like being broken. We're all a little broken. Age does that. Whether it's physical, or it's more about a wounded spirit, we are all in need of repair. Some need a little, and some need a lot. But instead of seeking real healing, we look for quick fixes, like the latest self help guru, super preacher, prescription, or diet.
Bars don't thrive because of alcohol. They thrive because of loneliness. You can drink a bottle of rum at home for a lot less money.
Crooked TV evangelists don't get rich because they have life changing things to say you can't hear at any local church, surrounded by people who really care for you. They get rich because they seem larger than life and offer "1,2, 3" plans that will fix everything, while making you rich and happy...for a small donation.
There isn't a new ab machine every year because it is groundbreaking technology. No, they show up because there is always a new crop of people (or old crop frustrated by the lack of results from last year's machine), hungry for a new fast way to a great body that will make them happy, healthy and attractive.
In order to really find happiness, we have to go deeper. And yes, we have to work harder...at least up front. We have to open ourselves up and take chances, knowing we may get hurt or fail miserably. But, that's part of it all. That's what makes life worth it.
Without the lows, we wouldn't really feel the highs. Without the hurts, we wouldn't know how good it is to be healed. Without loss, we wouldn't understand found. Without empty, there would be no complete. Without lonely, we wouldn't know love when she comes home.
Michael Jordan once said, "I've missed more than 9000 shots in my career. I've lost almost 300 games. 26 times, I've been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I've failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed."
Mickey Mantle said, "During my 18 years I came to bat almost 10,000 times. I struck out about 1,700 times and walked maybe 1,800 times. You figure a ballplayer will average about 500 at bats a season. That means I played seven years without ever hitting the ball."
It takes courage to stop the numbing and dream again. It takes a leap to let yourself want again. But it's a good risk.
Still, don't stop with the feeling. Be bold and write your vision down. Then, get really crazy and outline a plan. Write down where you want to be in 7 days, 7 months, and 7 years. Then, every week, update it. Post it where you can see it everyday. Long term goals easily get hazy and we lose our way. For most of us, especially those of us with attention issues, having shorter watermarks along the way help keep us going in the right direction. By the way, these goals and visions aren't supposed to just be about fantastic accomplishments, or career. Some can be. But, hopefully you'll also write things like, "In the next 7 days, I hope to laugh with my wife the way we used to." In seven months, "I will have my book finished." "I will forgive my dad...and tell him." "I will forgive myself...and move on."
Hope is empty without action. Love's just a feeling without commitment, work and hard choices. Do not say you will start tomorrow. Start now. I invite you to wake up from dreaming and create a new reality.
Emotion must be followed by action or you will settle back into your old life. In the movie We Bought A Zoo, the character Benjamin Mee says, “You know, sometimes all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage, just literally twenty seconds of just embarrassing bravery. And I promise you, something great will come of it.”
I dare you to take off the mask, let people know you. I dare you to love enough that you can be hurt. I dare you to speak loud enough to be heard, and be silent enough to hear. Believe enough so that others laugh at you. Be sober enough to feel, courageous enough to fail.
I believe in miracles and healing. I'm not talking about someone growing a new leg. I've never seen that. Though, I believe just about anything is possible. No, I'm talking about more amazing miracles. I've seen the broken become whole and the lost find their way home. I've seen the fatherless become fathered, the unloved become loved, the losers win, and the outcast invited in. But these miracles aren't possible without us. They won't happen unless you and I awaken, open our eyes and take a few steps. We have to start the journey. And, along the way, we have to pick up someone else and walk with them a while...maybe a lifetime. Don't be afraid to ask for help yourself. Pray.
I wish you happiness. Even more, I wish you peace. Not the substitute type of "peace" that is really just numbness; but, the kind that comes from knowing you have a reason, a purpose, an adventure.
Don't live someone else's purpose either. Think about the two movies I referenced above. Imagine if Hugo would have bought a zoo instead of repairing machines. What if Benjamin Mee lived behind a clock, fixing machines, instead of loving his family and restoring a neglected zoo? Neither movie would have ended well.
Another quote from We Bought a Zoo that seems to fit comes from little Rosie Mee. The movie starts shortly after the death of Rosie's mom. One night, when the neighbors are having a party, with lots of friends, laughter and music, she says, "Their Happy is too loud." I hope nothing less than for you to come to a place where your happy is "too loud."
Now, stop reading this and go start a new adventure...
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
New Compilation of Songs - Available for FREE!
I am in the process of writing for a new project and decided to glance back for a moment or two to see where I've been. The songs on this compilation span over a decade of writing, creating and living. "The Nashville Sessions" were actually recorded in the 1990s! Time sure does have a way of moving forward...fast. While I was compiling these songs, I was taken back to the point in time each represents. In one way or another, they all still have elements that are true for me even today. And, thankfully, some of the sentiments have passed...gone but not forgotten.
Some of these songs are fully realized. Some are demo quality. Some...unfinished. Some...in progress. Some...well... just hold a unique sentimental place for me.I hope you connect somewhere. At the very least, I hope you are entertained, and maybe even moved. Until the new stories are completed and unveiled, I hope these add to your journey.
-Matt
Click on the following link, or the one on the right side of this page under links, for your free 22 song digital download.
http://noisetrade.com/mattgressunderconstruction
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Hello Again
My blog has moved...as you can see...since you're here reading this.
I figured the night before another new year was the perfect time to unveil the thing.
Anyway, I'm really glad you stopped by to check out the site. Feel free to take a look around. I will be adding new blog posts and content on a regular basis. So, stop by often and don't hesitate to leave comments. I hope this is the first of many conversations we will have as we experience and share this thing we call life.
I hope your world is good right now. If not, it is never too late to begin again. If you need to end a bad thing, do it. If you need to start again, you can.
Just take a deep breath. If you need to, close your eyes. And run, walk, crawl, or ask someone to carry you...whatever it takes...just move...
Happy New Year wherever you are!
I am where I am,
Matt
Leaving
(Originally posted on 9/29/11)
UCVKMZJ7RGC7
Leaving. One simple word. So many meanings, reactions, feelings, and consequences. It offers a unique perspective, as you are able to look back at what has been and imagine what may be ahead. It is a watermark, a shift.
It's a word full of joy, loss, anticipation and choice.
For too many, the first experience of leaving came in a childhood interrupted by a parent walking away. For those who experienced a dad or a mom leaving, it is forever imprinted on the heart. It leaves its mark on one's life, influencing every future relationship and decision. Sometimes I think we have become so used to divorce that we forget the impact it has on everyone involved. We sort of blow it off as a reason when considering why a child is struggling. Obviously, leaving is necessary sometimes. But sometimes, we just let go of each other too easily. Most parents still love, protect and mold their children; even if it's separately. But, I will never understand how some parents just leave their children behind. This leaving is life altering.
As we get older, leaving becomes a sort of passage to independence, even adulthood. It's freeing, full of possibility, new and a little scary. Do you remember when you left home? I do. I was going to conquer! It never really crossed my mind that I wouldn't achieve every dream I had. I had limitless ambition and creativity. Of course I also partied too much and made my share of mistakes. But back then mistakes were easier to rebound from. Life was a lot less complicated. Every relationship, experience, dollar made or night out was a first. When I screwed up, I just sort of moved on without feeling enormous consequences. But, not everything was great. It was also a time of wrestling with my beliefs, figuring out who I was going to be and finding out what was really important to me. Honestly, I think it was in this period of my life that I hurt the most people. I suppose I would say this is when I first experienced real regret; but also a heck of a lot of happiness. I came through this period a little wiser, somewhat more competent at life and a little damaged. I wish I could go back and experience this season of my life with who I am today.
Another kind of leaving comes with our "adult" relationships. Depending on the circumstances...and which side of the “leaving” you are on, it can be a release or a devastating process. Timing is everything. Mark Heard sings in “Strong Hand of Love" - Time marches away like a lost platoon. We gracefully age as we feel the weight of loving too late and leaving too soon. (If you don't know Mark Heard, go locate his music now. You can read this later) We often settle when we shouldn't settle, resist when we should give in, leave when we should stay and stay when we should leave.
Sometimes, our world has built up so much garbage we take a look and decide we have to start fresh, somewhere else. So, we agonize over what we will leave behind. We take inventory: our friends, our places, our routines, careers, relationships, and everything else we have collected to build a life. This leaving is not as easy or exciting as the first time we left “home.” This leaving is difficult and even confusing, with a sense of sadness and regret. It forces us to look at our “wasted time” and “unfulfilled dreams.” But it is sometimes necessary. It feels like the first time you held your breath under water. You breathe in the biggest breath you can, close your eyes and plunge. On the other side of that plunge, you emerge face to the sky, open wide your eyes and exhale! It's like being born again in a way. You feel stronger and even clearer because you have been under the weight of the water in the darkness of eyes closed. Isn't life that way sometimes? It takes going under to realize how lifeless you really have been.
Sometimes leaving is more about a state of mind. When we choose to forgive, we leave anger and bitterness behind. Other times, we choose to move on from our mistakes, leaving our shackles behind. Life always seems to be about movement. We move from one victory to a new challenge; from a deep valley to the mountaintop; from sickness to healing; from chaos to peace; and hopefully from selfishness to love.
Finally, we all leave. One way or another, we all leave this life. It's the one leaving of which we have no choice. We can't stay. If we have loved well, we will be mourned by those we have touched. They will tell stories and sing songs while they shed tears. And there will probably be good food too. But none of that will really matter all that much because we will be gone. I believe I will go on. I will see those I have lost and experience new things I only sort of understand now. I will know why everything happened and I will see love clearly, not dimly like I do now. Hopefully, my last leaving will be like my first. My expectation and peace will calm any fear I still have.
Leaving. I'm not sure why I've been thinking about this word lately. It might just be the fact that Fall is here. It's my favorite time of the year (Except for Christmas of course). I love the smell of the air, the crispness of the evenings, the deep sense of change and the content melancholy.
Yea, it could just be that. Or...something new might be coming.
-Matt
UCVKMZJ7RGC7
Leaving. One simple word. So many meanings, reactions, feelings, and consequences. It offers a unique perspective, as you are able to look back at what has been and imagine what may be ahead. It is a watermark, a shift.
It's a word full of joy, loss, anticipation and choice.
For too many, the first experience of leaving came in a childhood interrupted by a parent walking away. For those who experienced a dad or a mom leaving, it is forever imprinted on the heart. It leaves its mark on one's life, influencing every future relationship and decision. Sometimes I think we have become so used to divorce that we forget the impact it has on everyone involved. We sort of blow it off as a reason when considering why a child is struggling. Obviously, leaving is necessary sometimes. But sometimes, we just let go of each other too easily. Most parents still love, protect and mold their children; even if it's separately. But, I will never understand how some parents just leave their children behind. This leaving is life altering.
As we get older, leaving becomes a sort of passage to independence, even adulthood. It's freeing, full of possibility, new and a little scary. Do you remember when you left home? I do. I was going to conquer! It never really crossed my mind that I wouldn't achieve every dream I had. I had limitless ambition and creativity. Of course I also partied too much and made my share of mistakes. But back then mistakes were easier to rebound from. Life was a lot less complicated. Every relationship, experience, dollar made or night out was a first. When I screwed up, I just sort of moved on without feeling enormous consequences. But, not everything was great. It was also a time of wrestling with my beliefs, figuring out who I was going to be and finding out what was really important to me. Honestly, I think it was in this period of my life that I hurt the most people. I suppose I would say this is when I first experienced real regret; but also a heck of a lot of happiness. I came through this period a little wiser, somewhat more competent at life and a little damaged. I wish I could go back and experience this season of my life with who I am today.
Another kind of leaving comes with our "adult" relationships. Depending on the circumstances...and which side of the “leaving” you are on, it can be a release or a devastating process. Timing is everything. Mark Heard sings in “Strong Hand of Love" - Time marches away like a lost platoon. We gracefully age as we feel the weight of loving too late and leaving too soon. (If you don't know Mark Heard, go locate his music now. You can read this later) We often settle when we shouldn't settle, resist when we should give in, leave when we should stay and stay when we should leave.
Sometimes, our world has built up so much garbage we take a look and decide we have to start fresh, somewhere else. So, we agonize over what we will leave behind. We take inventory: our friends, our places, our routines, careers, relationships, and everything else we have collected to build a life. This leaving is not as easy or exciting as the first time we left “home.” This leaving is difficult and even confusing, with a sense of sadness and regret. It forces us to look at our “wasted time” and “unfulfilled dreams.” But it is sometimes necessary. It feels like the first time you held your breath under water. You breathe in the biggest breath you can, close your eyes and plunge. On the other side of that plunge, you emerge face to the sky, open wide your eyes and exhale! It's like being born again in a way. You feel stronger and even clearer because you have been under the weight of the water in the darkness of eyes closed. Isn't life that way sometimes? It takes going under to realize how lifeless you really have been.
Sometimes leaving is more about a state of mind. When we choose to forgive, we leave anger and bitterness behind. Other times, we choose to move on from our mistakes, leaving our shackles behind. Life always seems to be about movement. We move from one victory to a new challenge; from a deep valley to the mountaintop; from sickness to healing; from chaos to peace; and hopefully from selfishness to love.
Finally, we all leave. One way or another, we all leave this life. It's the one leaving of which we have no choice. We can't stay. If we have loved well, we will be mourned by those we have touched. They will tell stories and sing songs while they shed tears. And there will probably be good food too. But none of that will really matter all that much because we will be gone. I believe I will go on. I will see those I have lost and experience new things I only sort of understand now. I will know why everything happened and I will see love clearly, not dimly like I do now. Hopefully, my last leaving will be like my first. My expectation and peace will calm any fear I still have.
Leaving. I'm not sure why I've been thinking about this word lately. It might just be the fact that Fall is here. It's my favorite time of the year (Except for Christmas of course). I love the smell of the air, the crispness of the evenings, the deep sense of change and the content melancholy.
Yea, it could just be that. Or...something new might be coming.
-Matt
Loss, Brokenness, Healing
(Originally posted on 3/23/11)
*Re-posted on Facebook May 9, 2011 after the passing of my grandfather.
Note: My original draft of this was actually written several weeks ago, shortly before the death of my friend Brian. He was a friend and much more to many in my family of friends and acquaintances. Because of this, I greatly delayed the posting of this blog. This wasn't because I thought the timing was wrong. In fact, it was probably the right time. No, it was delayed because I...well....I had to go through my own process before I revisited it. I've written on the topic of grief before; but this time it holds a much more personal meaning. In addition to our loss, many I know have lost other loved ones over the past year or so. I hope this helps in some small way, whether you are the griever or the comforter.
This is dedicated to those who have left us, we who are left, and those who comfort us.
Loss is one of the most difficult things for us to deal with in our society. It's not a concrete thing with easy answers and tangible hope we can touch. However, the feelings, effects, consequences and pain are real. Very real. I can't speak definitively for everyone else; but for me, it feels hazy, disorienting, draining and sometimes empty and lonely. After the recent passing of Brian, I even had dreams in which I had died. I found myself thinking of my own mortality. It was unnerving. When someone leaves us, it feels destabilizing, like there is no gravity to hold us to our foundation.
Unfortunately, people often just don't know what to do or say when someone is grieving a loss (myself included). Death in particular forces us to acknowledge that we will die too. It also exposes the empty hole we all feel sometimes. It makes us face our own feelings of disconnection and loneliness that everyone feels sometimes I've seen and heard many responses to someone grieving. They range from “You gotta get up and move on!” to endless scriptures and quotes.
Let me address the first one. Contrary to what modern society says, you do not have to “get up and move on.” At least not right now. We are forced to grieve way too fast these days. Someone we love passes on. We cry for a few days. Then, it's back to work a week or so later. If you look at history, at other cultures, people grieved for extended periods of time...until they were ready to move on. And it was healthy and right. Now, I know we can't physically check out for extended periods of time today. We'd lose our jobs, etc. In addition, it is healthy and helpful to get back into a routine when going through the grieving process. I'm simply saying that we don't have to push down our feelings, abbreviate our healing process and smile for everyone's viewing pleasure. Don't ever feel like you are somehow weak or less spiritual because you still feel a little angry or sad when others have seemingly moved beyond these things. Just don't isolate. Don't fall into despair. Feel, acknowledge, work through, reach out, listen, let others help and heal. The missing of them will never go away. But, it will get better.
Second, in terms of quoting endless scriptures and inspirational quotes to someone. These things are important and helpful in context. They certainly speak to someone's faith. However, I promise you, a person of faith already has these in their arsenal and “know” all the right things to believe. But, often, when these things are thrown at people who are grieving, over and over and over, they start to sound hallow and sometimes even accusatory. For instance, if “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me,” then why do I feel weak? If “God is my comforter,” why am I feeling so empty and chaotic? "I must be doing something wrong." I'm not saying don't share these things when appropriate, especially one on one, in the context of relationship and conversation. I'm just saying, throwing a million inspirational quotes at someone is not going to do it alone. In fact, I know for myself, I'd rather hear or read a personal note of comfort and empathy from someone rather than something that can be stitched on a pillow.
On that note, one of the things my faith does tell me to do is to “weep with those who weep.” One of the most powerful things we can say to someone grieving is...nothing. When you don't know what to say, just be with them. We often feel like we need just the right word or phrase to say. But, honestly, not much of what we say will even get through the haze of grief. An author once referenced this as “the fog of a broken heart” (which I, of course, stole and turned into a song...). That is a true description. Maya Angelou has a great quote that is true as well: “People will forget what you said. People will forget what you did. But people will never forget how you made them feel.” Be with someone. Support them. When they want to cry, cry with them. When they want to laugh, laugh with them. And when they want to talk, listen. Really listen. Speak when necessary. The wonderful thing about grieving with someone is that when they are ready to get up, you will get up together. Your strength will be there to lift and offer a safe place to land when the stumbling comes. An author named Donald Miller tells a moving story he heard in regards to a “rescue." I'll attempt to retell it here:
There were a group of POW's who had been in captivity for a very long time. They had been tortured and mistreated, toyed with and lied to. They had been so hurt and torn down that there was no need to shackle them. They had little hope. The American government finally found out where they were and staged a rescue. The team began the daring rescue of their fallen comrades. They came in with force and then a few of them entered the place where the POW's were kept. They were on the floor, beaten, tired and fearful. One of the commanders
began loudly proclaiming that they were from the U.S.A., there to rescue them. He forcefully told them to get up and come go with them to safety. However, the men were scared and did
not believe them. They had been played with before. Their shock and trauma kept them on the floor. Then, one of the rescuers noticed what was happening. He gently approached the men on the floor, carefully put his weapons down and laid down on the dirty floor in the middle of them. He reached out and put his hand on one man's chest and said quietly to him “You're safe now. We are from America. We are here to rescue you. Will you stand up with me? I'll help you if you need me to.” The man slowly rose with his rescuer. Then seeing him move, the others began to follow. Soon, they were in the air, on their way home.
This is one of my favorite stories. I try to remember it when I am attempting to help someone. Sometimes you have to become like them to help them . Sometimes, you have to get down in the dirt and be with them.
I don't have all the answers. There isn't a concrete path to go from brokenness to healing. But, we can heal. There may be obstacles and setbacks. In grief counseling, we know there are steps: shock, denial, anger, bargaining, sadness and acceptance. But, these can get jumbled up. You may go back and forth a little or feel a few, or all, at once. Don't be discouraged. I do want you to hear this though. If you fall into prolonged depression, please reach out. Get help. You cannot do it alone.
In closing, for those of us who find ourselves on the broken side of grief, take heart. It will get better...but on your own timetable. None of us are alone. When you do feel restored, though not the same, reach out to others and return what has been given to you. Bishop Tutu, when putting together the HRC, once used the term “wounded healers.” When assembling the team that would be a part of the restoration in South Africa after Apartheid, he said he did not want angry, vengeful victims, but instead he desired “wounded healers.” I hope that is who I am. For those of you who are comforting, be patient and truthful. Get down in the dirt. Offer hope. Then, we will all find our way to the other side of grief. And one day, we will see those we miss again...in a much better place.
(Feel free to leave comments here or on Facebook where this was linked)
*Re-posted on Facebook May 9, 2011 after the passing of my grandfather.
Note: My original draft of this was actually written several weeks ago, shortly before the death of my friend Brian. He was a friend and much more to many in my family of friends and acquaintances. Because of this, I greatly delayed the posting of this blog. This wasn't because I thought the timing was wrong. In fact, it was probably the right time. No, it was delayed because I...well....I had to go through my own process before I revisited it. I've written on the topic of grief before; but this time it holds a much more personal meaning. In addition to our loss, many I know have lost other loved ones over the past year or so. I hope this helps in some small way, whether you are the griever or the comforter.
This is dedicated to those who have left us, we who are left, and those who comfort us.
Loss is one of the most difficult things for us to deal with in our society. It's not a concrete thing with easy answers and tangible hope we can touch. However, the feelings, effects, consequences and pain are real. Very real. I can't speak definitively for everyone else; but for me, it feels hazy, disorienting, draining and sometimes empty and lonely. After the recent passing of Brian, I even had dreams in which I had died. I found myself thinking of my own mortality. It was unnerving. When someone leaves us, it feels destabilizing, like there is no gravity to hold us to our foundation.
Unfortunately, people often just don't know what to do or say when someone is grieving a loss (myself included). Death in particular forces us to acknowledge that we will die too. It also exposes the empty hole we all feel sometimes. It makes us face our own feelings of disconnection and loneliness that everyone feels sometimes I've seen and heard many responses to someone grieving. They range from “You gotta get up and move on!” to endless scriptures and quotes.
Let me address the first one. Contrary to what modern society says, you do not have to “get up and move on.” At least not right now. We are forced to grieve way too fast these days. Someone we love passes on. We cry for a few days. Then, it's back to work a week or so later. If you look at history, at other cultures, people grieved for extended periods of time...until they were ready to move on. And it was healthy and right. Now, I know we can't physically check out for extended periods of time today. We'd lose our jobs, etc. In addition, it is healthy and helpful to get back into a routine when going through the grieving process. I'm simply saying that we don't have to push down our feelings, abbreviate our healing process and smile for everyone's viewing pleasure. Don't ever feel like you are somehow weak or less spiritual because you still feel a little angry or sad when others have seemingly moved beyond these things. Just don't isolate. Don't fall into despair. Feel, acknowledge, work through, reach out, listen, let others help and heal. The missing of them will never go away. But, it will get better.
Second, in terms of quoting endless scriptures and inspirational quotes to someone. These things are important and helpful in context. They certainly speak to someone's faith. However, I promise you, a person of faith already has these in their arsenal and “know” all the right things to believe. But, often, when these things are thrown at people who are grieving, over and over and over, they start to sound hallow and sometimes even accusatory. For instance, if “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me,” then why do I feel weak? If “God is my comforter,” why am I feeling so empty and chaotic? "I must be doing something wrong." I'm not saying don't share these things when appropriate, especially one on one, in the context of relationship and conversation. I'm just saying, throwing a million inspirational quotes at someone is not going to do it alone. In fact, I know for myself, I'd rather hear or read a personal note of comfort and empathy from someone rather than something that can be stitched on a pillow.
On that note, one of the things my faith does tell me to do is to “weep with those who weep.” One of the most powerful things we can say to someone grieving is...nothing. When you don't know what to say, just be with them. We often feel like we need just the right word or phrase to say. But, honestly, not much of what we say will even get through the haze of grief. An author once referenced this as “the fog of a broken heart” (which I, of course, stole and turned into a song...). That is a true description. Maya Angelou has a great quote that is true as well: “People will forget what you said. People will forget what you did. But people will never forget how you made them feel.” Be with someone. Support them. When they want to cry, cry with them. When they want to laugh, laugh with them. And when they want to talk, listen. Really listen. Speak when necessary. The wonderful thing about grieving with someone is that when they are ready to get up, you will get up together. Your strength will be there to lift and offer a safe place to land when the stumbling comes. An author named Donald Miller tells a moving story he heard in regards to a “rescue." I'll attempt to retell it here:
There were a group of POW's who had been in captivity for a very long time. They had been tortured and mistreated, toyed with and lied to. They had been so hurt and torn down that there was no need to shackle them. They had little hope. The American government finally found out where they were and staged a rescue. The team began the daring rescue of their fallen comrades. They came in with force and then a few of them entered the place where the POW's were kept. They were on the floor, beaten, tired and fearful. One of the commanders
began loudly proclaiming that they were from the U.S.A., there to rescue them. He forcefully told them to get up and come go with them to safety. However, the men were scared and did
not believe them. They had been played with before. Their shock and trauma kept them on the floor. Then, one of the rescuers noticed what was happening. He gently approached the men on the floor, carefully put his weapons down and laid down on the dirty floor in the middle of them. He reached out and put his hand on one man's chest and said quietly to him “You're safe now. We are from America. We are here to rescue you. Will you stand up with me? I'll help you if you need me to.” The man slowly rose with his rescuer. Then seeing him move, the others began to follow. Soon, they were in the air, on their way home.
This is one of my favorite stories. I try to remember it when I am attempting to help someone. Sometimes you have to become like them to help them . Sometimes, you have to get down in the dirt and be with them.
I don't have all the answers. There isn't a concrete path to go from brokenness to healing. But, we can heal. There may be obstacles and setbacks. In grief counseling, we know there are steps: shock, denial, anger, bargaining, sadness and acceptance. But, these can get jumbled up. You may go back and forth a little or feel a few, or all, at once. Don't be discouraged. I do want you to hear this though. If you fall into prolonged depression, please reach out. Get help. You cannot do it alone.
In closing, for those of us who find ourselves on the broken side of grief, take heart. It will get better...but on your own timetable. None of us are alone. When you do feel restored, though not the same, reach out to others and return what has been given to you. Bishop Tutu, when putting together the HRC, once used the term “wounded healers.” When assembling the team that would be a part of the restoration in South Africa after Apartheid, he said he did not want angry, vengeful victims, but instead he desired “wounded healers.” I hope that is who I am. For those of you who are comforting, be patient and truthful. Get down in the dirt. Offer hope. Then, we will all find our way to the other side of grief. And one day, we will see those we miss again...in a much better place.
(Feel free to leave comments here or on Facebook where this was linked)
The Rescue
(Originally posted on 12/12/10)
Life is truly a messy thing. There are those days when everything is right. You could easily be driving on an open road with the top down in a world that is yours under a sky that seems to open up all around you. But, sometimes it seems like you are downtown in traffic during rush hour...late...again. Sometimes, it feels like a cold Winter day, with gray skies overhead and a chill that smacks you in the face. Yea, life is definitely messy.
Justin knows this well. He and his wife were on their way to the doctor's office for a check-up. His wife was several months into her first pregnancy,nearly ready to make that final trip to the hospital. The young couple was excited. Then, out of nowhere, the crushing force of a speeding car collided with the passenger's side of their car. A few moments later, Justin snapped out of his daze and looked over to see his wife unconscious and trapped. She was bleeding. She was not waking up. But, he couldn't help her. He felt completely helpless and alone. All he knew to do was hope and pray and scream. In that moment, Justin, for the first time in his life knew what it means to need a rescue.
A few days ago, a longtime friend stopped by work to see me. She and I have seen a lot together. She works in the business of mental health like me. We help people. That's what we do. We try to get people to understand they have to talk sometimes. They have to reach out and accept help when they need it. Yet, we are not always so good at following our own advice. However, she and I have that trust. So, the other day I listened as she shared about the stress and struggles she has faced lately. In turn, I opened up a little and told of similar things in my own life. It was good. She needed a small rescue. I needed to be there.
About two years ago, I was driving in a storm. I wrapped my car around a telephone pole driving through an alley. That wasn't fun! I got out relatively unscathed (Thank God for Volvo...It may be the safest car in the world). The body of the car was ok, but the axle was torn in half. The car was totaled. So, a few days later, I was waiting at a McDonald's in downtown Nashville for my buddy to pick me up and take me to buy a car. It was a really crappy day. It was January, cold and miserable. It's funny how when you're in the middle of something like that, you start over-analyzing your life. At least I do. That day it went something like this: "Man, I'm just not where I wanted to be. I don't have everything I thought I would. I've been in and out of the hospital too many times with this stupid neurological illness. I'm tired of treatment and medication. I've had too many bad relationships" On and on. Then, in the middle of my self analysis (pity party), I was interrupted. A young man came up to me and asked. "Mr. Matt? Are you Mr. Matt?" I answered "yes" while faking a smile. He looked vaguely familiar. He continued, "I was at the group home when you ran it. I'm __________. Do you remember me?" I did ( I was the program director of a group home in the 90's). I had tried very hard to help this kid. We had given him care and compassion, and structure and love. But, ultimately we had to kick him out of the program. I thought "Uh oh, here it is. I'm going to be killed in a McDonald's. What a really crappy end to a crappy week!" Then he said, with a smile, "You kicked me out. You don't know this. But, you saved my life. You guys cared about me. Nobody else did. I have a wife and kid now. I have a job. I'm not gonna do what my parents did. I'm gonna be a good dad. Thanks for all you did...and for kicking me out. I learned." I told him I was proud of him. That seemed to be important to him. Then he left. All I could do was thank God. That kid might think I rescued him; but he returned the favor that day.
We all need rescuing sometimes.
But, not many of us are willing to let go. Not many of us will ask. We have to realize that, yes, rescues sometimes show up out of the blue; but most of the time, they don't. How is anyone supposed to know we need help if we hide behind our busy schedules, parties, work, or fake smiles? Asking for help or just an empathetic ear is not weakness. Every once in a while, we have to send up a white flag to signal our need.
On the other side of that is the truth that we need to watch and listen-really listen-to those around us. This past week a young man laid down on train tracks in front of an elementary school and gave up his life. He attended a school in a county where I do some work. People have had comments and questions about it this week. "Why did he do it?" "I knew him. He was happy." I can't really answer those questions. But, I can say, listen. Listen to those you love. And, if it's you in need, send up the flag. I was facilitating a weekly recovery group the other day. The kids were talking about the boy who took his life. I took a moment and asked how many of them had experienced suicidal ideations in the last 6 months. Every one of them raised their hand. Every one.
People are in need of rescue.
Rescue isn't easy. It doesn't always go smoothly. It doesn't always feel good.
Sometimes you need to be drowning to come back to life ( I think that's why I find beauty in the ritual of baptism). At times, you have to be helpless to be helped; hopeless to find hope; hurting to find healing; broken to be fixed; abandoned to be found; lonely to be loved; and completely surrendered to be rescued.
Be prepared, no matter which side of the fence you are standing on, to act when the time comes. And, if necessary, send up the white flag. Someone will see.
-Matt
*Justin and his wife welcomed a beautiful baby girl into their lives shortly after the accident. Mom and baby...and Justin are fine. Oh, and I got another car.
Life is truly a messy thing. There are those days when everything is right. You could easily be driving on an open road with the top down in a world that is yours under a sky that seems to open up all around you. But, sometimes it seems like you are downtown in traffic during rush hour...late...again. Sometimes, it feels like a cold Winter day, with gray skies overhead and a chill that smacks you in the face. Yea, life is definitely messy.
Justin knows this well. He and his wife were on their way to the doctor's office for a check-up. His wife was several months into her first pregnancy,nearly ready to make that final trip to the hospital. The young couple was excited. Then, out of nowhere, the crushing force of a speeding car collided with the passenger's side of their car. A few moments later, Justin snapped out of his daze and looked over to see his wife unconscious and trapped. She was bleeding. She was not waking up. But, he couldn't help her. He felt completely helpless and alone. All he knew to do was hope and pray and scream. In that moment, Justin, for the first time in his life knew what it means to need a rescue.
A few days ago, a longtime friend stopped by work to see me. She and I have seen a lot together. She works in the business of mental health like me. We help people. That's what we do. We try to get people to understand they have to talk sometimes. They have to reach out and accept help when they need it. Yet, we are not always so good at following our own advice. However, she and I have that trust. So, the other day I listened as she shared about the stress and struggles she has faced lately. In turn, I opened up a little and told of similar things in my own life. It was good. She needed a small rescue. I needed to be there.
About two years ago, I was driving in a storm. I wrapped my car around a telephone pole driving through an alley. That wasn't fun! I got out relatively unscathed (Thank God for Volvo...It may be the safest car in the world). The body of the car was ok, but the axle was torn in half. The car was totaled. So, a few days later, I was waiting at a McDonald's in downtown Nashville for my buddy to pick me up and take me to buy a car. It was a really crappy day. It was January, cold and miserable. It's funny how when you're in the middle of something like that, you start over-analyzing your life. At least I do. That day it went something like this: "Man, I'm just not where I wanted to be. I don't have everything I thought I would. I've been in and out of the hospital too many times with this stupid neurological illness. I'm tired of treatment and medication. I've had too many bad relationships" On and on. Then, in the middle of my self analysis (pity party), I was interrupted. A young man came up to me and asked. "Mr. Matt? Are you Mr. Matt?" I answered "yes" while faking a smile. He looked vaguely familiar. He continued, "I was at the group home when you ran it. I'm __________. Do you remember me?" I did ( I was the program director of a group home in the 90's). I had tried very hard to help this kid. We had given him care and compassion, and structure and love. But, ultimately we had to kick him out of the program. I thought "Uh oh, here it is. I'm going to be killed in a McDonald's. What a really crappy end to a crappy week!" Then he said, with a smile, "You kicked me out. You don't know this. But, you saved my life. You guys cared about me. Nobody else did. I have a wife and kid now. I have a job. I'm not gonna do what my parents did. I'm gonna be a good dad. Thanks for all you did...and for kicking me out. I learned." I told him I was proud of him. That seemed to be important to him. Then he left. All I could do was thank God. That kid might think I rescued him; but he returned the favor that day.
We all need rescuing sometimes.
But, not many of us are willing to let go. Not many of us will ask. We have to realize that, yes, rescues sometimes show up out of the blue; but most of the time, they don't. How is anyone supposed to know we need help if we hide behind our busy schedules, parties, work, or fake smiles? Asking for help or just an empathetic ear is not weakness. Every once in a while, we have to send up a white flag to signal our need.
On the other side of that is the truth that we need to watch and listen-really listen-to those around us. This past week a young man laid down on train tracks in front of an elementary school and gave up his life. He attended a school in a county where I do some work. People have had comments and questions about it this week. "Why did he do it?" "I knew him. He was happy." I can't really answer those questions. But, I can say, listen. Listen to those you love. And, if it's you in need, send up the flag. I was facilitating a weekly recovery group the other day. The kids were talking about the boy who took his life. I took a moment and asked how many of them had experienced suicidal ideations in the last 6 months. Every one of them raised their hand. Every one.
People are in need of rescue.
Rescue isn't easy. It doesn't always go smoothly. It doesn't always feel good.
Sometimes you need to be drowning to come back to life ( I think that's why I find beauty in the ritual of baptism). At times, you have to be helpless to be helped; hopeless to find hope; hurting to find healing; broken to be fixed; abandoned to be found; lonely to be loved; and completely surrendered to be rescued.
Be prepared, no matter which side of the fence you are standing on, to act when the time comes. And, if necessary, send up the white flag. Someone will see.
-Matt
*Justin and his wife welcomed a beautiful baby girl into their lives shortly after the accident. Mom and baby...and Justin are fine. Oh, and I got another car.
She Will Not Be Forgotten: A Look At Bullying and Harassment
(Originally posted on 11/29/10)
“I can't take one more day of this. Why did they pick me”
-7th grade boy
“I do it because at least I can control this pain.”
-8th grade girl talking about cutting her arms
“I will not be back tomorrow. You can call the hospital. I don't care. I will get out...and I will kill myself.”
-10th grade boy
“Please make it stop. Please.”
-6th grade girl
“Maybe they're right. They are right. Look at me. I'm disgusting.”
-9th grade girl
“They call me everything...just walking down the hall...every minute of everyday. What will you do that's any different than what anyone else has done to stop it? Nothing.”
-9th grade boy
These are real children. Real lives. Real pain. I hear these things more often than I should; kids looking at me, begging me, to help them. And quite honestly, sometimes I can't. Unfortunately, many adults, including those in education and counseling, think that bullying is not a big deal. They believe it is a rite of passage, something everyone goes through. But that is simply not true.
I often speak to and train adults and children about bullying/harassment prevention and intervention. It is a part of my overall focus on violence issues. When I first became involved with the issue of bullying, I was skeptical. I mean, I came from a family with 3 brothers, lots of sports and some big egos. But as I learned more, saw the numbers and became aware of the effects on those who are bullied and those who bully, my attitudes began to shift.
First, I had to realize that bullying wasn't that back and forth picking that goes on between friends. Heck, if that were true, my friends and I would all be victims and bullies. Bullying takes place when someone who has more power than someone else hurts someone, physically or emotionally, over and over again. That power definitely does not always translate to size. More often than not, it has to do with status or popularity. Bullying takes different forms: physical, emotional and social. Many means are used. Some were around when we were kids. But, many were not. Consider cyber-bullying. If someone had a bad picture of you when you were younger, it could be destroyed. Now, it can live on forever in cyber-space. It can be altered to look like anything and posted all over the web. Hateful words a kid would never say face to face now get sent with the simple touch of a cellphone button. Then, that same message or picture can be sent to countless people in an instant.
Approximately 150,000 kids stay home from school daily because of fear. Yes, you read that right. Many more suffer in silence day in and day out. Suicide is the third leading cause of death for 15- to 24-year-olds, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), surpassed only by accidents and homicide. The number each year is approximately 4500. Four thousand five hundred young people. That is 4500 too many.
Children who are bullied are more likely to drop out of school, experience illness and depression, use drugs and/or alcohol, and yes, have thoughts of suicide. On the other side, children who bully also have negative consequences. By the age 24, six out of ten youth identified as bullies will have a criminal record. Unless they are taught and develop empathy, they will continue down the negative path.
Not every child can stand up to bullies on their own. Many need extra support and understanding. This does not mean they are weak or “wimpy.” It doesn't mean they will always be bullied. Most children who are given the support they need and taught the skills they need will go on to be healthy, productive adults. Young people are amazingly resilient.
We need to intervene to stop the bullies as well. If a school is not taking the necessary steps to stop it, go higher. Do not stop until it stops. Unfortunately, I have too many stories I could share about parents living with horrible guilt after their child's suicide. They told the school. They thought they had handled it. They didn't follow up.
Put aside whatever biases you may have. Every child is our child. Every boy and girl should be protected until they can protect themselves. Mentor. Model the right behaviors and responses to overcome the struggles they face. Treat others the way you want your child to treat others; and the way you want them to be treated. Things aren't the same as they were when you and I were kids. True, there are some common themes. But, the youth of today face obstacles, challenges and behaviors we did not have to face. Listen to what your kids are saying-not just with their words. Pay attention to their lives. Be aware of changes like frequent illnesses, a drop in grades, loss of interest in social events, becoming withdrawn, sadness that lasts more than a few days and any other sudden changes. Kids speak to us in many ways and very little of what they have to say actually comes from their words.
I carry the picture of one young lady in my head to remind me why I do what I do. She was called all those words we are, unfortunately, so used to hearing; words that kids hear everyday. Fat. Ugly. Whore. Stupid. Dumb. She took her life on a very lonely afternoon. She will not be forgotten.
-Matt
*If you would like more information about bullying, there are many good places to look. Two sources I recommend are www.starsnashville.org and www.olweus.org .
“I can't take one more day of this. Why did they pick me”
-7th grade boy
“I do it because at least I can control this pain.”
-8th grade girl talking about cutting her arms
“I will not be back tomorrow. You can call the hospital. I don't care. I will get out...and I will kill myself.”
-10th grade boy
“Please make it stop. Please.”
-6th grade girl
“Maybe they're right. They are right. Look at me. I'm disgusting.”
-9th grade girl
“They call me everything...just walking down the hall...every minute of everyday. What will you do that's any different than what anyone else has done to stop it? Nothing.”
-9th grade boy
These are real children. Real lives. Real pain. I hear these things more often than I should; kids looking at me, begging me, to help them. And quite honestly, sometimes I can't. Unfortunately, many adults, including those in education and counseling, think that bullying is not a big deal. They believe it is a rite of passage, something everyone goes through. But that is simply not true.
I often speak to and train adults and children about bullying/harassment prevention and intervention. It is a part of my overall focus on violence issues. When I first became involved with the issue of bullying, I was skeptical. I mean, I came from a family with 3 brothers, lots of sports and some big egos. But as I learned more, saw the numbers and became aware of the effects on those who are bullied and those who bully, my attitudes began to shift.
First, I had to realize that bullying wasn't that back and forth picking that goes on between friends. Heck, if that were true, my friends and I would all be victims and bullies. Bullying takes place when someone who has more power than someone else hurts someone, physically or emotionally, over and over again. That power definitely does not always translate to size. More often than not, it has to do with status or popularity. Bullying takes different forms: physical, emotional and social. Many means are used. Some were around when we were kids. But, many were not. Consider cyber-bullying. If someone had a bad picture of you when you were younger, it could be destroyed. Now, it can live on forever in cyber-space. It can be altered to look like anything and posted all over the web. Hateful words a kid would never say face to face now get sent with the simple touch of a cellphone button. Then, that same message or picture can be sent to countless people in an instant.
Approximately 150,000 kids stay home from school daily because of fear. Yes, you read that right. Many more suffer in silence day in and day out. Suicide is the third leading cause of death for 15- to 24-year-olds, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), surpassed only by accidents and homicide. The number each year is approximately 4500. Four thousand five hundred young people. That is 4500 too many.
Children who are bullied are more likely to drop out of school, experience illness and depression, use drugs and/or alcohol, and yes, have thoughts of suicide. On the other side, children who bully also have negative consequences. By the age 24, six out of ten youth identified as bullies will have a criminal record. Unless they are taught and develop empathy, they will continue down the negative path.
Not every child can stand up to bullies on their own. Many need extra support and understanding. This does not mean they are weak or “wimpy.” It doesn't mean they will always be bullied. Most children who are given the support they need and taught the skills they need will go on to be healthy, productive adults. Young people are amazingly resilient.
We need to intervene to stop the bullies as well. If a school is not taking the necessary steps to stop it, go higher. Do not stop until it stops. Unfortunately, I have too many stories I could share about parents living with horrible guilt after their child's suicide. They told the school. They thought they had handled it. They didn't follow up.
Put aside whatever biases you may have. Every child is our child. Every boy and girl should be protected until they can protect themselves. Mentor. Model the right behaviors and responses to overcome the struggles they face. Treat others the way you want your child to treat others; and the way you want them to be treated. Things aren't the same as they were when you and I were kids. True, there are some common themes. But, the youth of today face obstacles, challenges and behaviors we did not have to face. Listen to what your kids are saying-not just with their words. Pay attention to their lives. Be aware of changes like frequent illnesses, a drop in grades, loss of interest in social events, becoming withdrawn, sadness that lasts more than a few days and any other sudden changes. Kids speak to us in many ways and very little of what they have to say actually comes from their words.
I carry the picture of one young lady in my head to remind me why I do what I do. She was called all those words we are, unfortunately, so used to hearing; words that kids hear everyday. Fat. Ugly. Whore. Stupid. Dumb. She took her life on a very lonely afternoon. She will not be forgotten.
-Matt
*If you would like more information about bullying, there are many good places to look. Two sources I recommend are www.starsnashville.org and www.olweus.org .
We Will Rise
(Originally posted on 9/29/10. Update on 5/11/12.)
"We Will Rise"
We all fall apart
We all do
We all fall apart
But we will rise
We will rise
And I'm coming back together
I'm standing up again
I want you next to me
I need you with me my friend
When we rise
We all fall apart
We all do
We all fall apart
But we will rise
We will rise
And I see the other side of this
It's better than before
I'll carry you my friend
We'll run, we'll walk, we will crawl
And we'll rise
We all fall apart
We all do
We all fall apart
But we will rise
We will rise
This world will not steal our life
This earth won't drain all our strength
I know you're sick, I know you're tired
But I will stare down death with you
And you will rise
We will rise
We all fall apart
We all do
We all fall apart
But we will rise
We will rise
My friend
We will rise together.
What is friendship? What does it mean to be with someone, really be with someone? What are we promising when we say we will stand together? Can we honestly tell someone we will walk beside them no matter what? What if doing so will result in your own reputation getting damaged? What if the choices they are making go against your own moral code?
We throw around statements of commitment so easily when life is good and our friends haven't betrayed our trust in some way, or made huge mistakes.
What kind of friend am I?
I can't say that I have always stuck around when someone to whom I claim to be connected has stepped outside my comfort space. What would you do if you found out your closest friend was committing some moral "crime"? What if they committed an actual crime? What if you discovered they were in the life draining hold of addiction? Would you claim “tough love” and distance yourself until they are back on their feet again?
We are all broken.
We are all in need of healing.
Over the past few years, I have, with each passing day, been trying to live a better story. Instead of being a character that is good for a few laughs and some decent times, I'm trying to be a person of substance, surrounded by people I love well. I refuse to be quick to let go. With every good thing in me, I am trying to intentionally stay.
No matter what mistakes are made.
The lyrics at the beginning of this post are from a song I am in the process of writing. I began writing it recently after a very long conversation with someone I was considering walking away from. It's devastating to watch someone slowly take their own life because they are completely trapped in the hands of something they no longer control, but controls them. I deal with these things professionally, but I find I have a lot less patience in my personal life than I do in my professional life. I can listen to clients detail their choices in every dark detail and not miss a single beat. I'm not so measured personally. In fact, I sit in judgment far too often. I'm not saying we shouldn't speak into the lives of those we love. Part of friendship is giving a metaphorical kick in the backside when we see a friend messing up their life. We should. But, then we can't just walk away. I'm not talking about staying in unhealthy relationships (That's an entire blog itself). I'm focusing more on our brothers, sisters...friends.
When someone struggles with cancer or other health problems, we immediately rally to their side. It's easy. Who wouldn't stand up for someone literally staring death in the face? It gets a little less clear when the infliction is seemingly self-imposed. It gives us an exit.
Well, I don't want to make that exit anymore.
Those of us who believe in a grace given to us freely need to remember that gift more often. I love the following lyrics from the song "Beyond Justice To Mercy," written by Billy Smiley, Paula Carpenter, and Susan Ashton:
The common ground we used to share
Is harder to find but I believe that it's still there.
I don't know if now is the time
To surrender the silence between your heart and mine
But the love that I've chosen cries out to be spoken
Leaving the heartache behind.
Chorus:
We must reach out beyond justice to mercy
Going more than halfway to forgive
And though the distance seems so far
The love that used to hold our hearts
Longs to take us beyond justice to mercy.
It doesn't matter who's to blame
The love that I have for you is still the same
A tender voice is calling me
To that place of compassion where hearts run pure and free
Where the hunger for vengeance gives way to repentance
Where love will teach us to see.
We can reach out beyond justice to mercy
Going more than halfway to forgive
And though the distance seems so far
The love that used to hold our hearts
Longs to take us beyond justice to mercy.
And when the fallen one gets back up, I want to rise with my friend. I want us to tell the story together, a little messier, but stronger than we were before. We will not be weighted by shame, but lifted by lessons well learned and scars fully earned.
No matter how broken, mistaken, abandoned, or wrong we might have been, it is never too late to begin again.
We will rise. We will rise.
-Matt
"We Will Rise"
We all fall apart
We all do
We all fall apart
But we will rise
We will rise
And I'm coming back together
I'm standing up again
I want you next to me
I need you with me my friend
When we rise
We all fall apart
We all do
We all fall apart
But we will rise
We will rise
And I see the other side of this
It's better than before
I'll carry you my friend
We'll run, we'll walk, we will crawl
And we'll rise
We all fall apart
We all do
We all fall apart
But we will rise
We will rise
This world will not steal our life
This earth won't drain all our strength
I know you're sick, I know you're tired
But I will stare down death with you
And you will rise
We will rise
We all fall apart
We all do
We all fall apart
But we will rise
We will rise
My friend
We will rise together.
What is friendship? What does it mean to be with someone, really be with someone? What are we promising when we say we will stand together? Can we honestly tell someone we will walk beside them no matter what? What if doing so will result in your own reputation getting damaged? What if the choices they are making go against your own moral code?
We throw around statements of commitment so easily when life is good and our friends haven't betrayed our trust in some way, or made huge mistakes.
What kind of friend am I?
I can't say that I have always stuck around when someone to whom I claim to be connected has stepped outside my comfort space. What would you do if you found out your closest friend was committing some moral "crime"? What if they committed an actual crime? What if you discovered they were in the life draining hold of addiction? Would you claim “tough love” and distance yourself until they are back on their feet again?
We are all broken.
We are all in need of healing.
Over the past few years, I have, with each passing day, been trying to live a better story. Instead of being a character that is good for a few laughs and some decent times, I'm trying to be a person of substance, surrounded by people I love well. I refuse to be quick to let go. With every good thing in me, I am trying to intentionally stay.
No matter what mistakes are made.
The lyrics at the beginning of this post are from a song I am in the process of writing. I began writing it recently after a very long conversation with someone I was considering walking away from. It's devastating to watch someone slowly take their own life because they are completely trapped in the hands of something they no longer control, but controls them. I deal with these things professionally, but I find I have a lot less patience in my personal life than I do in my professional life. I can listen to clients detail their choices in every dark detail and not miss a single beat. I'm not so measured personally. In fact, I sit in judgment far too often. I'm not saying we shouldn't speak into the lives of those we love. Part of friendship is giving a metaphorical kick in the backside when we see a friend messing up their life. We should. But, then we can't just walk away. I'm not talking about staying in unhealthy relationships (That's an entire blog itself). I'm focusing more on our brothers, sisters...friends.
When someone struggles with cancer or other health problems, we immediately rally to their side. It's easy. Who wouldn't stand up for someone literally staring death in the face? It gets a little less clear when the infliction is seemingly self-imposed. It gives us an exit.
Well, I don't want to make that exit anymore.
Those of us who believe in a grace given to us freely need to remember that gift more often. I love the following lyrics from the song "Beyond Justice To Mercy," written by Billy Smiley, Paula Carpenter, and Susan Ashton:
I know we don't see eye to eye
We've let angry hearts flare and the bitter words fly The common ground we used to share
Is harder to find but I believe that it's still there.
I don't know if now is the time
To surrender the silence between your heart and mine
But the love that I've chosen cries out to be spoken
Leaving the heartache behind.
Chorus:
We must reach out beyond justice to mercy
Going more than halfway to forgive
And though the distance seems so far
The love that used to hold our hearts
Longs to take us beyond justice to mercy.
It doesn't matter who's to blame
The love that I have for you is still the same
A tender voice is calling me
To that place of compassion where hearts run pure and free
Where the hunger for vengeance gives way to repentance
Where love will teach us to see.
We can reach out beyond justice to mercy
Going more than halfway to forgive
And though the distance seems so far
The love that used to hold our hearts
Longs to take us beyond justice to mercy.
Then, in the song "We Are Not As Strong As We Think We Are," Rich Mullins offers this thought:
Well, it took the hand of God Almighty
To part the waters of the sea
But it only took one little lie
To separate you and me
Oh, we are not as strong as we think we are
Well, it took the hand of God Almighty
To part the waters of the sea
But it only took one little lie
To separate you and me
Oh, we are not as strong as we think we are
Arrogance isn't really strength. It is simply insecurity dressed up in loud costumes. Individuality doesn't require that you stand alone, never asking for help. And justice doesn't have to mean there are no more chances.
I want to wrap every ounce of mercy that I have around those with whom I travel this life. I want to release any strength I possess to those who are powerless. I want to give my companionship to those who suffer alone (even when they are surrounded by many).
And when the fallen one gets back up, I want to rise with my friend. I want us to tell the story together, a little messier, but stronger than we were before. We will not be weighted by shame, but lifted by lessons well learned and scars fully earned.No matter how broken, mistaken, abandoned, or wrong we might have been, it is never too late to begin again.
We will rise. We will rise.
-Matt
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