America Has Shut Down in More Ways Than One

There were a lot of opinions flying around about the government shutdown this morning. I popped on Facebook, and just about everyone seemed to have something to say about what's happening.

Some posters were emotional, sharing stories about the personal cost of the shutdown in terms of jobs lost. Others voiced frustration about what they saw as a lack of compromise. Still others put a human face on what they saw as the imperative need for national healthcare with stories of loved ones lost or sick and suffering without it.

I wondered as I read, do we even hear what others have to say once we realize they don't share our views? Once we decide we are right, do we listen to opposing viewpoints in order to understand their perspective?

I don't think we do.

Think I'm wrong? Go to your Facebook page and choose a shutdown discussion that you keep tabs on for the rest of the day. Watch how quickly the conversation devolves into insults about the GOP or Obama, getting into name-calling and insults.

I'm not a Pollyanna. I don't think people will or even should always get along. But how we disagree has much to do with whether or not we will ever be able to agree on anything.

We claim we want Congress to stop playing games and with the one-upmanship. But I think they reflect the attitudes of the American public pretty well.

We just don't like what we see.

What do you think? Respond in the comments below.

Big Step, Feeling Like a Creep

First thing in the morning, I'm gonna apologize. 

Usually, I make things worse when I try to talk my foot out of my mouth (One girl once actually just said "Stop. Talking." Yeah, we're not cool anymore, but that's a different post for a different day). But the woman I met today has the makings of a new friend, so I want to give it a shot.

It all started earlier this afternoon with two blessings. First mine, then hers. 

Today, I visited the church of a former pastor of mine to sing the Chaplet of Divine Mercy. For those who aren't familiar with it, the chaplet is a beautiful, thoughtful and calming devotional prayer for God's mercy on our individual and collective souls. Many believe that the prayer, which can be chanted or sung, was given to the world by Jesus himself through St. Faustina. 

Anyway, I've sung the chaplet there for the past three years, and have always been shocked at the impact the devotion has had on those present. I've had scores of people come up to me afterward and say that it's blessed them and that they've cried as I sang. I often cry too, so I'm not too surprised at that. But this year, I was floored by some of the responses I received. 

The soon-to-be apology recipient shocked me by ranking my singing of today's prayer as one of the most moving church experiences of her life.

"Wow," I said. "That's so creepy."

I've spent nearly a THIRD of my life writing, made a living by choosing words to succinctly, clearly, accurately convey information, and I chose CREEPY. Oh, Lord. No problem coming up with words now: AMAZING, WONDERFUL, HUMBLING, SPECIAL....Ugh!  

Man. "Creepy" leaped out of my mouth like a superhero.

On the way home, I replayed the afternoon in my head. Why did I say that?! By the time I settled down for dinner about an hour ago, I'd figured it out. 

Her comment terrified me.

God bestows us all with gifts and talents, and we should put them to good useblahblahblah.....We've all said it in some way to others and we've had it said to us. 

Truth be told,  I didn't think that saying applied to me. Not really.

Okay, I think I'm a decent writer, love working with people through my Mary Kay (I'm chatty and it's so fun servicing people). I also sing. Got a high school letter in chorus, performed in a few college musicals, sing in some choirs and in church. But this is something else. THIS is someone telling me I have a GIFT. THIS is people telling me that I made them feel like they'd spent time in heaven. THIS is people stopping me to say thank you to me for blessing them and saying they're as moved by my singing of that prayer as anything they've heard in a long time.

By the time this extremely sweet lady paid me her compliment, I thought I was being pranked. 

We went on talking about something else, and she gave me her phone number before we each drove away. By the time I pulled into the garage, I knew that saying I was sorry to her would be the first thing on my list of things to do tomorrow. 

Fact is, I've become an instrument of God's grace. Even as I write that now, part of me is thinking  "Girl, take a tick, sit down and get over YOU. Don't forget, you've had people listen to you and describe your singing as "alright."  I also think of weirdness that was Dan Ackroyd and John Belushi in the Blues Brothers.

We're on a mission from God.

It's like Julia Roberts asked in Pretty Woman: "Why is the bad stuff always so much easier to believe?"

Understanding this role means accepting more responsibility and accountability, and no more acting like I don't know better. Play time is officially over. 

Excuse me for a minute....

(You know, Lord. I'm perfectly content to keep just giving change to folks on the street and saying a kind word to those who seem to need to hear it. That was going really well and I liked it. Just sayin.'Let's just keep things the way they are, K?)


Sigh. Yeah I knew that answer before I even asked.

What's Been Left Behind

The written word soothes me. Always has.

I am comforted by their familiarity - not a day goes by when I don't need them to gather and provide the information that tethers me to those around me - and terrified by the vastness of their power.

As a journalist, I often grew irritated by the rules that surrounded what was considered legitimate writing. As a occasional poet, I find myself lost in dizzying searches for the perfect written expression of my thoughts and feelings.

Now that I consider myself neither poet or reporter, I find myself lost, adrift.

Like something is missing. It's been driving me nuts, in a vague way, kinda like knowing you've forgotten to do something important, but can't remember for the life of you what it is. Maybe in my effort to make a clean break from my past, I left something behind that I needed.
Maybe I'm looking for a way to reconnect to words in a way that will recharge my spirit in a way nothing else ever has.

We'll see.

The journey toward that connection begins today.