Inclusion Leaves Room for “Old White Guys” Too

“Old white guy.” I said the words and I didn’t like the taste they left in my mouth…a bitterness I have no desire to cultivate. I didn’t say them as an honest and simple descriptor. I said them with a twinge of disgust as I was talking about Joe Biden entering the 2020 Democratic race. I said them with a rolling of the eyes. I said them despite the fact that just 3 years ago I was hoping against all hope that he would run for President.  I said, “old white guy” with the same ugly tone I hear from the talking heads day in and day out. Then, just a few days after uttering those acidic words, I went on a walk with my dad and we talked about the strength of women, the wisdom of women, the value of women. I went on a walk with an “old white guy,” and I was blessed. During our walk, I realized that I would never use those words, with that tone, in front of my dad, because he is my “old white guy,” and he is my rock, my friend, my father whom I respect and admire and love with all my being. I can’t fathom intentionally saying something that might make him feel less than or unworthy of my honor and respect. That night, I went to bed frustrated with myself for falling into the trap of binary thinking…us vs. them, either/or, in group vs. out group. I went to bed admitting that my heart hopes for life-giving conversation, but my tendency is to soak in the culture around me and thoughtlessly repeat the rhetoric I hear. I went to bed praying for the wisdom to speak up and out for those whose voices have been silenced and to do so without spreading hate or shame or fear.  

I do understand that when people say, “old white guy,” they aren’t actually referring to ALL older white men. In context, this phrase is usually being directed towards 1 person, 1 small group of people (i.e. congress), or 1 specific situation. I also understand that this is said to express the idea that the majority has been in charge long enough, and in order for much needed change to take place, others MUST be promoted to positions of decision-making power. I agree whole-heartedly with this notion. I desperately want to see women and people of color given equal opportunities to succeed and lead. I want to see them as the heroes in movies, the leads in shows, the CEOs in Fortune 500 companies, the headliners at conferences, the owners of booming business, the Presidents of universities, and on and on. I want to see an America that honors and respects minorities and embraces diversity. I want to see equality and equity for the marginalized. I want to see all people treated with reverence and regarded as equally worthy of life and liberty. I want to speak out and stand up for the rights of minorities while continuing to honor and respect the individuals within the majority who have earned that honor and respect. I don’t want to perpetuate the false dichotomy that insists we have to be hateful towards one group to love another, dishonoring to one group to honor another, tear one group down to lift up another, ostracize one group to include another. 

Let me be clear. When there is an “old white guy” who is racist, minsogynst, homophobic, power hungry, discriminatory, arrogant, intolerant, etc., I will hold him accountable in the same way I would any individual with toxic beliefs and behaviors that poison our culture. If there is a “boy’s club,” such as the hundreds of cops across the country who shared racist sentiments on social media, I do and always will strongly advocate for real and felt consequences for their bigotry and corruption. Beyond holding individuals responsible for their overt prejudice, I also see the crucial need for the privileged to understand implicit bias and to do the internal work required to break free from this damaging unconscious attitude towards others. I believe it is immensely important for white men to step up and be an ally, an advocate, a champion for women and people of color. I want to see them admit their privilege and then use that privilege for good. I want them to acknowledge their position(s) of power and then seek equality and equity for the under-privileged. I want them to thicken their skin and consider not taking every comment about white men personally. I want them to make a noble effort to hold a deeply intimate perspective of what it means to be a white man versus a woman or person of color in this country. I believe the majority has a responsibility to LISTEN to the outnumbered and the oppressed and to deeply consider the effects of historical trauma and systemic racism in our society. I believe the majority has a moral responsibility to sit with the discomfort of deeply understanding the roots of white supremacy and how white people, as a collective group, have benefitted from structural racism. I believe white men have a responsibility to bring diverse participants to the table, to build bridges of multiculturalism, to open their minds and hearts to the inherent struggles that touch the lives of minorities before they’re even born. I believe these efforts should be a daily exercise. I do not feel sorry for white men. I do believe that some white men are part of the problem, however, I do not believe that speaking about them as a collective whole in a disparaging way will lead us to the loving and lasting change many of us seek. 

I am holding onto hope that we can stand for diversity and equality without tearing others down. I’m hopeful that we can carve out those who divide us while holding close to those who unite us regardless of their race, religion, gender, ethnicity, age, and so on. I believe I can tell my dad, (my “old white guy”) that his wisdom is priceless and that I have much to learn from him while also demanding more diversity, equality, and equity in our government, our companies, our universities, our churches, our media…our country! 

The Changes I Plan on Making:

  1. Instead of using the term “old white men” as if they’re disposable and should be ignored or discarded, I will say: “I want more diversity…others deserve and need to be at the table…I want to hear from someone who represents women and people of color…I desire a fresh perspective around this issue…I would like to see change, and I believe that said change would be best lead by (enter name of woman or person of color here).” I’ve decided that I do not have to say, “old white guy” or “old white men” in a tone of disgust to make the point that I would like to see very different faces and hear from very different people. 
  2. I will honor the gifts of individuals in any and all groups. I’m thankful for the wisdom my dad has to share due to his years of life experience and education. I’m also thankful for the varying perspectives and knowledge that individual women and people of color bring to the conversation. I will continue to advocate for equal and respectful treatment of minorities while avoiding disparaging the majority as a whole.  
  3. I will object to certain individuals and their behavior without objecting to the entire group of people that those individuals demographically belong to.
  4. I will encourage white men and women to do the work of understanding implicit bias, white privilege, systemic racism, and white supremacy without attaching a shaming message, and I will continue to do this work myself.
  5. I will avoid divisive language and over-generalizations to pursue conversations that are unifying, kind, loving, candid, and inviting. As I seek change, I want my words to welcome others to the table. I want my words to summon others to join me in my pursuit for social justice and I want Love to be the leader. 

I aspire to find a firm foundation in standing up for the marginalized while protecting my heart from the destructiveness of hate. I yearn to speak up and out for what’s right while being careful not to treat an entire demographic as if they are wholly responsible for every individual or small group of bad actors. I don’t want to overgeneralize in a way that labels the many older white men in my life as obstacles to a better America because they were born white and lived too long. I don’t want them feeling belittled or devalued because we’ve decided there’s no longer room for them at the table. I want to lift minorities up while maintaining respectful language for those who deserve respect. Our words carry weight. Our words matter. I pray the small changes I’m dedicated to making will bring light to my small circle of influence, and that eventually it will be easier for me to resist the temptation of using language that produces hurt rather than healing. I pray for life-giving dialogue around hard issues and grace when I get it wrong. 

If you have other ideas on how we can have hard conversations without shame and blame, or maybe there’s something you’ve said that’s kept you up at night, and you’ve decided to change your approach, I would love to hear from you!

The Perils of People Pleasing

I’ve spent a good chunk of my adult life trying to dispel the people pleasing bug that thrives inside me. I’ve done affirmations in the mirror, prayer, meditation, self-help books, empowering quotes on the fridge, and….well, you get the picture. Friends and family have gently encouraged me to remember that my value does not come from what others think of me, and I agree. My brain agrees that my worth is not determined by others, but my heart tells a different story. I’ve been thinking a lot about how this propensity for validation drives my behavior and I’ve been talking about it in therapy…praying and willing and trying to shift this perspective. I’ve explored the history behind this behavior, the advantages I’ve experienced that have kept me glued to this path. It’s obvious to me that I continue to walk this road of seeking affirmation because there is a benefit, an incentive, a pay-off. I wouldn’t plunge into people pleasing year after year if I wasn’t getting something out of it, either consciously or subconsciously. With this reflection I’ve realized that before I can change, I first must understand and believe how this way of living has ramifications that outweigh the rewards. I’ve been asking myself, “are there negative consequences to this lifestyle that outweigh the benefits?” As I’ve been seeking to understand the pitfalls of this driving desire, I’ve noticed just how ridiculously hazardous it gets for me.

Jerry Seinfeld said that most people’s #1 fear is public speaking, with the fear of dying being #2. That means that if given the choice, most people would choose death over having to give the eulogy. This is how I feel about letting others down. Letting others down = #1 fear. Death = #2 fear.

I choose pain and possible death over upsetting someone else…you think I’m kidding!!

I’ve had reflexology that was so intense I was bruised the next day, but said nothing during the treatment because I didn’t want to hurt the massage therapist’s feelings. I once laid on a massage table that was too short for me (because I am the biggest lady in the room), and rather than speak up about how uncomfortable I was, I just let my legs dangle off the end until they fell asleep. My feet were soooooo relaxed by the end of that memorable spa experience, that I couldn’t walk out of the room due to my numb stubs.

I take dangerous left turns to please others…for the love of God! I am so concerned that the people waiting behind me may become annoyed, that I find myself bolting into traffic. I fly out into the middle lane saying a little prayer that my sacrifice will be worth it, and that all the strangers will be pleased with the choice I’ve made. I can’t bare the thought of someone being irritated by my driving decisions or making someone wait to the point of impatience, so I opt to risk life and limb instead. “What if they think I should’ve gone already and they honk at me!?!?” Oh, the horror!

My sister-in-law recently shared something she read that said, an alarming percentage of those who are choking leave the room full of people and end up in a place alone where they die. I had to admit that I could imagine myself adding to this statistic. I wouldn’t want to ruin anyone’s meal or good conversation, and I wouldn’t want to make a scene. I can picture myself making a swift exit to avoid being a burden even when the 2 choices on the table are regain breath and life or die from asphyxiation.

I am a chronic apologizer

A few weeks ago, I was pulling out of a parking lot and checked to make sure there wasn’t someone behind me before I stopped to enter an address into my phone. In my peripheral vision I saw a car turn into the parking lot and at the same time I heard a honking. My immediate thought was, “Oh no! what did I do wrong? Who do I owe an apology to?” For a split second I considered gunning it in case I was in the way and inconveniencing someone. I was tentative to look to my left just knowing that I had made a mistake and I was about to meet someone I had angered. Low and behold it was a friend, excitedly waving hello and wanting to know how I was and what I was doing there. As I drove away I couldn’t help but reflect on the knee-jerk reaction my brain has without any information…the voice on repeat that says, “you’re making a mistake,” “you’re upsetting someone,” “you’re wrong.”

It’s a joke in my circle of family and friends that they will inevitably receive an apology text from me after every gathering. As we give our goodbye hugs at the end of a party I often hear, “I don’t want any apology texts tonight or tomorrow Renee’,” and sometimes I will joke and proclaim a blanket “I’m sorry” at the beginning of an evening as to cover my bases upfront. It really has become comical and I can laugh at myself and the ridiculousness of it all, however deep down it’s that same voice that says, “you’re making a mistake,” “you’re upsetting someone,” “you’re wrong,” with an additional “and they’re not going to love you/accept you/be friends with you any longer.” The scariest words I believe are, “If you mess up, they will leave you.”

As I’ve reflected on these moderately embarrassing revelations I’ve come to realize just how unhealthy my desire for approval really is. Putting others happiness and comfortability over my own safety seems a bit (just a tad) unbalanced. I give my extreme examples to make the point that regardless of the “positive” things we’ve come to believe result from people pleasing (i.e. approval, worth, friendship, affirmation, etc.), none of that is worth our spiritual, emotional, and/or physical health.

As I continue to reflect on the results of my people pleasing habits I’m sure this list will grow longer, but as of today, these are the consequences that stand out to me.

7 Consequences of People Pleasing:

  1. Making decisions driven by fear of what others will think will either hold us back from our purpose or thrust us into something we were never made for. When I’m frozen with fear or jumpy with anxiety I must slow down, dig deep, pray for God’s guidance, and take a moment to check in with my heart. I must ask myself who I want to be regardless of the pressure to please.
  2. Joy does not come from other’s approval. Joy comes from leaning into who God designed us to be. Joy comes from tuning into our North star and knowing deep in our soul that we were created worthy, valuable, and beautiful.  When we are seeking approval from others we’ve lost sight of who God says we are.
  3. When we bend to fit other’s visions we lose sight of who we are, and this makes for unhealthy relationships, not just with them, but with ourselves. We cannot be in true authentic relationship if we’re not showing up as our true authentic selves.
  4. The expectations we think others have of us are often expectations we’ve created for ourselves. We may attribute the pressures we feel to someone on the outside, when in actuality the pressure is building from the inside based on our false assumptions of what others are thinking.
  5. Self-criticism and chronic apologizing is a flag that there’s something deeper going on. As I’ve engaged in therapy I’ve met a little girl, a teenage girl, and a young woman living within me, who all believe there was something wrong with them…that if they weren’t perfect, then there would be heartbreak. These parts of us need our empathy, our comfort, our encouragement that they are safe and loved and enough.
  6. It’s exhausting to constantly be on alert for what everyone else thinks. It takes an incredible amount of energy to try and please everyone because it’s IMPOSSIBLE. A mentor once shared a quote with me that says, “the only sure way to fail is to try to please everyone.” Living for others is a prison of constant disappointment as every person is unique in their needs, wants, and desires, and those needs, wants, and desires can change like the wind.
  7. People pleasing steals our health (physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually). The weight of wanting to be liked has me driving like Thelma and Louise, enduring torture at the spa, conjuring up reasons my friends and family must be mad at me, and possibly a future death by choking. Even without dramatic stories like these, trying to please others is a stressor that gnaws at our well-being, and keeps us from fulfilling our potential and being true to who we are.

If your examples of people pleasing are not as extreme as mine then congratulations, as you are a safer driver, and probably walk away from massage with feeling in your legs and glowing/unblemished skin. However, if this desire ever rises up in you (at any level), then I want to encourage you to consider the pressure it creates in your life and how the unfavorable consequences outweigh the gains. I want to assure you that you matter. I want to embolden you to consider who you are in God’s eyes. I want to incite you to believe that your joyful, fulfilling, soulful purpose is within you and your beautiful heart….not out there in the world’s opinion of you. I pray we can continue to move towards who we are meant to be and let the rest fall away.  

Living in the Wilderness: Starving for Nuance on the Abortion Debate


Does anyone else believe that the subject of abortion is more nuanced than the broad generalizations that shout, you’re either a murderer or you hate women? Is anyone else tired of the name-calling, the black and white thinking, the social media posts and memes with the sole purpose of shaming, stoking the fire, throwing bigger stones? It appears that gracious, respectful, and honoring dialogue is rare these days, and I’m exhausted as I observe the battles on social media. I am starving for context and nuance in this discussion and yet terrified to start the conversation myself. I don’t have answers. I don’t stand firm in one camp and shoot arrows at the other. I don’t believe half the country are misogynists and the other half are baby killers. I’m afraid to write about my thoughts on this issue. I’m afraid because I don’t cling to one side or the other with an army of supporters to back me up in case of an attack. I’m afraid that no matter what I write, 50% of my friends and family will immediately see me as the enemy regardless of who they know me to be or what they’ve come to know of my heart. I’m afraid, and YET, I have a desire to bring a conversation forward that is void of hate and name-calling. Will you help me? Do you believe we can be respectful, vulnerable, brave, smart, and kind in our exchanges, giving grace to those we disagree with? Are we up for the challenge of leading with kindness? Please join me as I try!  We will do our best and ask the Lord to take care of the rest.

As I wrestle with this complex issue, please stick with me. Please understand that I’m a person seeking love and grace…to give it freely and receive it fully. Please know that I do not claim to be right or to know right or to live right. If I miss a perspective in this post, forgive me and please share your heart, your desires, your perceptions. I want to hear from you. I want to learn from you. I’m doing the best I can to listen to all viewpoints while building bridges between us versus burning them down. I’m doing my best to see both sides from a place of love and grace, so that I can embrace people regardless of our different postures and points of view. I have no desire to plant my feet in cement and scream at the crowd across from me for the rest of my life. There are many amazing, loving, smart, kind, giving people on all sides of this controversy, and I am broken as I watch us throw stones at each other from our glass houses. I don’t want to choose sides on every debate, but I do want to love all people well.

I have never seen good come out of vitriolic rhetoric, healing from hate, salvation from fear, grace from judgement. I truly believe humbly loving and serving one another is the path to restoration, love and healing, healthy community. As a fan of Jesus, I believe love is the path through confusion and darkness…the weapon that defeats the grip of hate. I believe in the redeeming power of love and I feel myself collapsing under the weight of cruel assumptions, bitter accusations, vicious words without an iota of loving consideration. I feel this burden regardless of the side serving the venom.  

My Reaction to the Pro-Choice Rhetoric:

When I hear or read pro-choice advocates claiming that pro-life/anti-abortion supporters don’t care about women’s rights, I wince. I struggle with the idea that someone attempting to protect what they believe is a vulnerable and voiceless human being is equivalent to not caring about women or women’s bodies. Caring about the outcome of a babies life and caring about women’s rights are not binary choices. We can and should care about both. If we see abuse of a newborn, we report it. We report it to protect the baby. We report abuse even with the understanding that the mom may lose her rights to parent that child. This does not make the reporter of suspected abuse hateful or sexist. If I’m someone who believes that the entity within a woman’s womb is a human life, then naturally, as another loving human being, I feel the need to protect that life. If I believe there is a body….a somebody inside a woman’s womb, then doesn’t it make sense that I should care to protect them both? That I shouldn’t weigh one’s worth over the other? That I should support them equally in their right to life? That I would choose to fight for both of them to live regardless of their age? If I believe personhood begins in the womb, then isn’t it imperative that I act as a voice for the voiceless and defend the defenseless, not because I don’t believe in a woman’s autonomy, but because I believe in protecting the unprotected?

It makes sense to me that people who believe a fetus is a life would advocate for birth and fight against abortion. They literally believe they’re saving lives, and in that case, “her body, her choice” doesn’t apply, because they believe there’s more than one body being discussed, and that one choice affects the lives of 2 people. With that being said, of course we can and should have the difficult and nuanced discussion around when the fetus becomes a life requiring protection. This is one of many questions that will have different answers, but different doesn’t mean that those on one side are appalling and those on the other have it all figured out.

My Reaction to the Pro-life Rhetoric:

When I hear or read pro-life/anti-abortion advocates calling pro-choice supporters murderers and baby killers, I cringe. I struggle with the idea that someone attempting to protect women’s rights and privacy due to their belief that the embryo or fetus is not a human being, is equivalent to hating or wanting to kill babies. I disavow the assumptions I see in reality-distorting memes suggesting that there are lots of women waiting until their 3rd trimester to abort a perfectly healthy baby. With abortion being more accessible in the first few weeks of pregnancy, and women understanding the pain, the fatigue, the erratic hormone shifts, the difficult and irreversible changes that happen to her body throughout pregnancy, I reject the notion that there are numerous women enduring all of that while they weigh the decision for 6+ months. I find these presumptions hurtful and harmful, not just to having a productive conversation, but to those dear women who have had to make impossible decisions late in their pregnancy, in the midst of the worst times of their lives. There are many men and women who love children and have, or plan to have children, who also support a woman’s right to choose because they do not believe that the embryo or fetus is a person. It seems clear to me that there aren’t millions of people who desire to execute babies, but rather millions of people who support a woman’s right to choose whether or not she will carry a group of tissue and cells inside her womb to the point of personhood. There are women who are healthy with a healthy embryo who choose to abort for a whole host of reasons (age, financial, mental health, physical environment, timing, hopes, fears, etc.) that are personal to them and their circle of support. There are reasons for abortion that I don’t understand or agree with, however if someone believes the potentiality for life is NOT equivalent to life, then naturally it follows that they would  believe they have the right to choose what to do with the entity inside their own body. It is also important to remember that this issue covers more complex scenarios. There are women who opt for a therapeutic abortion because their baby is not viable for life outside the womb. There are women who opt for abortion due to the irreparable damage of being raped or surviving incest. There are women who opt for abortion because their life is at risk. Regardless of the reason, again, it comes back to the nuanced discussion of when we believe the fetus becomes a person. If I believe the fetus is not an individual until a certain point in the pregnancy, then it makes sense for me to believe that a woman has the right to choose whether or not she will carry the embryo or fetus up until that point.

It is rarely appropriate OR helpful to paint with broad strokes, especially when discussing such a complex topic. There are so many women grieving the unthinkable loss of their baby who are retraumatized by the lack of grace and understanding that explodes onto social media every time there’s a hot button court case. It breaks my heart that so many women are thrust back into pain and shame without a chance to tell their story…without anyone even stopping to ask what their story is.

This dispute has always felt very grey to me, but I have always considered myself pro-life, with exceptions of rape, incest, and the mother’s life being at risk. However, when I was pregnant with my first-born, my eyes were opened to just how personal and murky this debate really is. My brother died in a tragic accident when I was 11 weeks pregnant with my son Isaac. The night before my 12 week prenatal appointment I was suffering from extreme anxiety and panic, as I feared there would be something horribly wrong with my baby, and I knew I could NOT survive another loss. My entire family gathered around my parent’s kitchen table and prayed for me and the life growing inside. After that terrifying appointment, I began to imagine what it would be like to be told that my baby wasn’t viable for life outside the womb, or that he didn’t have a heartbeat, or any number of horrible announcements from a doctor that change the trajectory of a pregnancy…change the trajectory of all the lives involved. Around this time, I received a prayer request for a woman who knowingly and courageously was giving birth to her stillborn baby. It was in that EXACT moment (reading this gut-wrenching prayer request) that I knew I could never live through laboring and delivering my dead son or expose my family to such trauma as we were still reeling with grief over the unexpected loss of my brother. I would never have recovered from this fate. If I had faced that horrible reality, I would have chosen a therapeutic abortion, as I truly believe that I couldn’t have endured the alternative at that time in my life. I would have opted for an abortion and I would have been thankful that it was an option. Contrary to many of the memes and hurtful mud-slinging I hear and see, I don’t believe that decision would’ve made me Godless, faithless, heartless, or a murderer. I believe most of us make decisions based on advanced medicine/science and the intimate knowledge of our own capacity to live with our choices, and doing so we can still walk faithfully with God through it all. It was this experience that gave me a more nuanced perspective than I had ever had before. It made me realize how our experiences so often drive what we’re willing to fight for and that maybe sharing our stories with each other could narrow the divide.

Rather than spreading hate from both sides, I truly believe we could introduce love to one another by taking the time to have a conversation and listen…really listen. Listen to the woman who has lived through rape. Listen to the woman who had an abortion and now wishes she had made another choice. Listen to the woman who labored and delivered her lifeless baby. Listen to the young girl who survived incest and is now carrying her father’s child. Listen to the woman who cannot have children and couldn’t fathom ever choosing not to. Listen to the family that lost their mom, their wife, their daughter, sister, aunt during childbirth. Listen to the mom who struggles to feed her 3 kids and now must make the hardest decision of her life. Listen to the woman who was harassed at Planned Parenthood when she went in for a therapeutic abortion because her very much wanted and loved baby was not viable for life outside the womb. Listen to the woman who chose to be a teenage mom. Listen to the woman who had the abortion when she was 14 and has no regrets. Listen to the couple living through IVF. Listen to the family that loves a child with disabilities. Listen to the fostered child. Listen to the adult who seeks therapy from the trauma of foster care. Listen to the adult who praises the blessings gained from foster care. Listen to the stories of miracles and the stories of loss, the stories of regret and the stories of gratitude. I can only imagine the countless ways this issue affects women and families and I can only imagine the overwhelm that comes with each decision. And, because I can only imagine, I’m thankful for those who have shared their stories with me. I believe it is these conversations that have landed me in a place where I no longer make assumptions about the kind of person you are or the heart that you have based on where you land on this issue.

Where I “Think” I Land

I believe all life has value and should be protected, but I will openly admit that I don’t know where I land on the timeline of a fetus becoming a life. I believe a woman’s body must be treated with honor and respect and if that is violated, she should have the right to proceed in whatever way is necessary to heal rather than perpetuate that trauma. I have always considered myself pro-life AND I believe that a woman should be able to receive a therapeutic abortion if she has been raped, the baby isn’t viable for life, or the mom’s life is at risk. I have always considered myself pro-life AND making abortion illegal concerns me because I don’t want women pursuing life-threatening options or ending up in jail for seeking an abortion as that defeats the entire purpose of advocating for life and family. I believe all life has worth and should be treated with love and respect  including those who disagree with me and/or those who’ve made choices I “think” I wouldn’t make. But, the truth is we have no idea what choice we would make until we’re in those shoes, breathing that air, crying those tears, screaming those prayers. I am thankful I never had to make that choice, but I do not stand in judgment of women who have.

What wakes me in the middle of the night is the thought that some people I love dearly will say that I’m anti-woman for these beliefs and some will say I’m an assassin of innocent life. I stand in the middle somewhere as I try to consider the nuances and it is a lonely place to stand. I don’t belong to a camp because I see good people in both camps, and because I see good people in both camps, none of the camps will have me. The world tells us that we have to plant our flag on one side and despise the other, be disgusted by the other, call the other godless, evil, ignorant, misogynist, and on and on. To Brene’ Brown’s point in Braving the Wilderness, I don’t want to connect with a group or bond with others because we hate the same people with equal intensity. I want to find my relevance in a group that is built on who we can love and how much we can love them. This middle ground, this desert, this wilderness is isolating and scary and I’m hoping that I will eventually bump into others who live here too. I hope that even if we disagree we can commune respectfully and thoughtfully with our hearts and arms wide open for a warm embrace. Brene’ wrote a chapter titled, “It’s Hard to Hate Close Up,” and this is why I believe sharing and listening to each other’s stories is so important in the quest to love each other better and create a space of belonging. I would like to be on this journey with you.    

As I continue to tell my story and listen to others, I want everyone to know that the God I serve loves all of us, regardless of the choices we’ve made. I want everyone to know that God is not up in heaven wagging his finger, shaking his head, and saying “shame on you!” I want every person to know that they are loved and worthy of that love. I hear God saying, “grace on you!” God’s love is the example I seek to follow and I pray that I will connect with others on the same journey for life-giving grace and unabashed love.

If you relate to these struggles I would love to hear from you! I believe we can speak hope and love into each other’s lives. As I mentioned earlier, if I’ve missed a perspective and you would like to share your story and your thoughts, I would also love to hear from you! I believe it’s the sharing of the history behind our narratives that can build bridges. If you think a more nuanced conversation is valuable, please share this so that we can continue a conversation void of hate and hurt and filled with grace and the desire to listen and love well!

Hope In Times of Uncertainty

Have you ever struggled with self-doubt? Have you ever approached an ending or a beginning and wondered, “how did I get here?” Have you ever felt hopeless in changing the trajectory of your life? Have you ever taken inventory of your environment and thought, “this is not how I imagined it would be?” Do you ever lay awake at night asking, “Is this where I belong? Am I on the path that fulfills my purpose?” Have you ever struggled to give yourself grace in your circumstance? If you answered yes to any of these questions, you are not alone and there is hope my friend. A new day is coming.  

This past week I’ve been feeling stuck. Struggling with purpose. Searching for meaning. I’ve felt lost with an ache in my soul that fears it’s chasing something that doesn’t want to be chased. There’s a voice telling me I’ve run out of ideas, I have no more worthwhile thoughts to share, nothing left to say or write. This has me feeling dispirited and exasperated with myself for not being more thoughtful and creative, for not running deeper and longer. The voice is saying, “you have nothing to offer and quite frankly, you never did!”

I’m not sure where these feelings stem from. It could be that I turn 40 this year. It could be that we’re in the season of all the hard anniversaries that bring back the grief of losing my brother before his time. It could be that I truly need a shift in my life and quite a bit more therapy. It could be (and probably is) a combination of all these things. One thing I know for sure is that these are lies from an enemy that is doing his very best to tear me from the inside out with distortion and deceit. The truth is that we are all wonderful and beautiful creations with purpose and callings that we are uniquely equipped to fulfill.

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly. John 10:10 ESV

I heard a timely message on Easter Sunday that struck a chord in me. It was the simple reminder that His love brings resurrection. The love of Jesus brings life! When we are feeling lost, lonely, worthless, hopeless, small, insignificant, we can look to the promises of Jesus for light and life, hope and joy, restoration and resurrection. He breathes a new spirit into our tired hearts and worn out souls.

This message reminded me of my own Jesus-breathed renewal. I laid in chronic pain for months, depending on others to care for me and my newborn son, most days believing that my life as I knew it was over. And yet, there came a day when I rose from my bed and the pain fell away. There was a day that I woke up and with the arms of Jesus wrapped firmly around me I slowly re-entered life. Jesus carried me through the shadows of pain and defeat into the glow of victory. I walked hand in hand with Jesus into a new morning of hope and joy and I knew I had been given a second chance at life. I embraced a gratitude for life at a depth and width I had never experienced in all my 33 years. This was my new becoming. In that moment I celebrated the joy that comes with knowing my Father will never leave me, that he is always faithful, that he loves me unconditionally, and that his plans for me are always good. I was a new woman in Christ. I embraced life with a new fervor. I felt a peace and strength and confidence in him that I had never before experienced. He had resurrected my heart and spirit and nothing would ever be the same. 

IMG_1845
My hopeless place. My storm.

img_4700
My resurrected place. My new day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Easter message was a timely reminder that there is hope in each new day. A timely reminder that this broken place we may find ourselves in today is only a small moment in time on our journey with the God of love. A timely reminder that he is a God of new beginnings and he continues to lay a path before us, whether we see it or not. A timely reminder that we are all precious in his eyes, adored by our creator, and made for a great love and abundant life in him and him in us!

If you are hearing a voice that says, you’re not where you should be, a voice that doubts you have what it takes, a voice that says you’re not enough, a voice that says you’ll never find your path or purpose, a voice that calls you a failure and tells you that your circumstance is hopeless, I want you to know and believe that voice is a liar…The Liar. You are on a journey with peaks and valleys, midnights and mornings and it is the journey with Jesus that brings you wisdom and strength. It is the journey that equips you to shine love and light into the lives of those around you. It is the journey that brings you into a new morning and a new life. You were created for wholeness and he will make you whole. Have hope my friend, there is a new day dawning! 

You are enough! You are worthy! You are loved!

 

Dear Parkinson’s. Dear Mom.

Dear Parkinson’s

 

You will not have my mom.

You may take her outer strength,

but her inner strength blooms on.

You may take her voice,

but her love is loud and strong.

 

You may change her movement,

stiffer, and sometimes slow.

Fatigue may settle in,

and changes surely show,

but her spirit still shines large

and her beauty only grows.

 

You may be the reason

that she stops to take a rest,

but you can’t keep her heart from

pouring out kindness.

Our hero and our warrior

forever more, never less.

 

She’s mightier than you

in soul, and guts, and heart,

a solid pillar of peace,

you cannot pull apart.

No disease can steal the grace

that she perfectly imparts.

 

No amount of symptoms

could change her legacy.

No illness diminishes that

she’s all I want to be.

No consequence of aging can shrink

my mom, my hope, my peace.


Mom, you recently asked a dear friend about your value and belonging now that you have Parkinson’s. You wondered about your purpose as you struggle with no longer being able to serve others in the ways you always have. I am here to tell you on behalf of everyone that has ever known you, that your value and belonging have never been defined by what you could do for others. Your value and belonging have ALWAYS been defined by who you are and whose you are.

You are the most Godly, loving, kind, generous of spirit, selfless, peace-giving, and gracious person I’ve ever known. Parkinson’s will NEVER take away all the lovely and life-giving qualities that make you who you are!

What you’ve always given and continue to pour into your family is an everlasting love…a grace that surpasses a lifetime…an agape love that has wrapped itself around each of us for eternity…a kindness that is warm and unconditional…an endless lesson of how to care for others with compassion and servanthood.

My hope has always been and will always be that I could grow each day to be more like you. This prayer doesn’t change as you struggle with the symptoms of Parkinson’s. Parkinson’s can’t steal your value…nothing can! Mom, your value isn’t in how much you can do…how many hours you can help…how many “yes’s” you can say…how many brownies you can bake (although those are amazing!). Your value has and always will be the beautiful fruit of the spirit that you display every day of your life. Your value has and always will be the heart and spirit that God created in order for you to love others in ways they’ve never been loved. Your value has and always will be from a Father who loves you as mightily now as he did the day you were born.

You must know, and more importantly, believe that your family values you as much today, in this moment, as we did when you fixed breakfast every morning, sang us to sleep every night, attended every choir concert and ball game, took us school shopping, and helped raise our children. It has never been what you do for us…it has always been about how you love us. The love that pours from your soul has not changed with Parkinson’s, and no disease could ever steal our love from you. You belong. You are valued.

There truly are not words to describe how proud I am to call you mom. Jesus is Love and so are you! The love you share shines bright into the hearts of those who know you and that light is passed from person to person eventually touching people you’ve never met. The light you have imparted in other’s lives will never extinguish, nor will the legacy of your life.


My Mom

 

Love pours from her so fiercely

as she wraps you in her peace.

Her arms are warm and steady,

kindness plays across her face.

 

She holds you up in prayer,

puts you first, because that’s love.

Serves hope with steady wisdom,

points our eyes to Him above.

 

An image of perfect grace.

A heart that wants to serve.

She gives with all she has,

wanting nothing in return.

 

She’s strong and full of beauty.

Wise and believes the best.

She quickly finds your worth.

Chooses service over rest.

 

Forgiveness given freely,

no judgment does she bring.

She looks to help others heal,

chasing out shame’s sting.

 

She’s mighty and she’s humble,

powerful and kind,

She’s everything I hope to be

I’m so blessed that she is mine.

 

My perfectly made, lovely, beautiful mom.                                                                                           

                                                                        

 

 

 

A Letter to Mormons

Dear Mormon Neighbors,

Having lived in Gilbert for most of my life, we have been visited by many young, passionate, Mormon missionaries throughout the years. Recently they have been offering their help with anything we may need assistance with. These exchanges always include the typical pleasantries where I thank them for their generous offer, and add that, “no, we don’t need help with anything at this time.” After their last visit however, as the young men pedaled away, I realized that I do have a request. A request that has been bubbling beneath the surface, unspoken for quite some time now. A desire that began formulating in my grade school years and has been refined since having children of my own. The next time a Mormon missionary asks if there’s anything they can do for me, I’m going to humbly and vulnerably reply as follows:

  • Please teach your children to be inclusive of my non-mormon children and please guide them to carry that inclusion past grade school, into middle school, and throughout high school.
  • Please encourage your children to sit with mine in the lunchroom.
  • Please permit your kids to invite my kids to their slumber parties, birthday parties, and weekend get togethers even AFTER my child has made it clear that he or she is not interested in attending fireside, seminary, or church with your family.
  • Please allow your teen to go with mine to school dances, athletic events, and group dinners trusting that just like you, my husband and I have done the best we know how to raise a teenager who knows right from wrong.
  • Please welcome my children into your homes and permit your children to visit ours.
  • Please ask your kids to consider how isolating it must be on “Seminary (extra credit) Days” for those kids who do NOT come to school dressed for church.
  • Please reflect on the fact that adolescents spend the majority of their waking hours comparing themselves to their peers, so when they recognize that it would never be “acceptable” to date your son or daughter or be your son or daughter’s best friend, it is, at best, damaging to their delicate self-esteem.
  • Please call to mind your younger years when your primary objective was to be loved and accepted for who you were without having to pretend you were someone else.
  • Please understand that my families faith also emphasizes the importance of loving others, giving of ourselves, forgiving those who have wronged us and seeking forgiveness when we wrong others, doing what is right and turning from evil, seeking a relationship with God, spending time in prayer, and living a life inspired by Jesus.
  • Please support your children in having open, vulnerable, honest, transparent, loving, kind, accepting conversations with my children about what they believe and why. In fact, while our kids are having that “grown-up” conversation, I also hope to enter into this depth of sharing with you…the Mormon parent.
  • Please know that I hold your child in the same regard as any other child who shares my family’s faith or who prescribes to no religion at all. Your child is special, and beautiful, and worthy of my love and caring regardless of doctrine or theology.
  • Please believe that I see our differences as an opportunity for us to grow together in loving-acceptance. God did not call us to “tolerate” our neighbors. He called us to Love. I love and welcome you, your family, and your faith because we are all children of God made in His image. Your faith is a sizable component of who you are, and you are God’s creation with gifts and beauty and a soul that has the ability to positively transform my life with each encounter.

As these hopes for my children spill out, I realize that these are the same yearnings I had when I was too young to express them and they remain yearnings for me now. I would like to know my Mormon neighbors. I would like for us to share our celebrations and mourn our losses together. I would like to enter into deep relationships with you that allow us to celebrate our differences and lift each other up versus silently judging one another from across the street or the backyard fence. I would like us to hug and share dinners, and text jokes, and go to movies, and have pool parties, and discuss politics, and cry and laugh, and live life together. These desires have never been expressed because I never felt important enough to express them, but now that I have children there is nothing more vital than ensuring they have a deep sense of belonging to this village we chose to raise them in.

For decades now I have felt an invisible yet palpable partition between my family and our mormon neighbors…a silent criterion that has said, “we can’t be that close…we can’t walk this life together too often, we can’t be intimate friends unless we share the same faith.” I want to tear down this barricade and abolish this silent destroyer of fellowship. I fear we are forfeiting valuable friendships and life-changing communion with one another as we allow religion to segregate our lives.

We are not that different. Our children are not that different. We are all living in a beautiful yet broken world doing the best we can with what we have. With inclusion and acceptance we can lighten each other’s burdens and love each other through the brokenness. We are all damaged humans, so let’s be damaged together. As our fractured pieces are assembled together, we will transform into a magnificent and vast tapestry of vibrant hues and unity…we can weave our hearts into a community of “us”…dynamic threads of surviving souls stretching out to reach each other, love each other, understand each other….staying true to ourselves while supporting one another. Loved and loving! Fully belonging!

Sincerely,

Renee’ (your hopeful neighbor)

P.S. I am not proposing that Mormons are the only religious group that could receive a request comparable to this one, or that this applies to every Mormon. I’m also not assuming that I wouldn’t, myself, benefit from reading the same words and applying them to my life with regards to another group or an “other,” an “outsider.” I believe every religion and every denomination could benefit from being more inclusive, but I write this letter in relation to my own experiences and memories and the concerns I have for my children. My Jewish/Agnostic husband could write an identical letter, based on his history, and just change the greeting to Dear Christians or Dear Italian Catholics. We can all admit that it feels good to belong to a group, but too often it’s at the expense of living a life void of those who are different from us, and I believe this is a tragedy. It is exhausting to correctly locate and consistently remain in the good graces of the right “club” these days. Race, ethnicity, religion, sexual orientation, gender, political affiliation, socio-economic status, neighborhood, state, coast, country, profession, and the list of ways we etch the invisible line goes on and on. I find that when I try too hard to belong to a particular group I lose sight of God’s vision for my life, which starts with loving “others” the way He loves me. We are created for community, and I believe our lives will always be richer if we truly follow God’s commandment to love our neighbors as ourselves. I pray that God will give us the courage to knock down walls, the strength to build bridges, and the grace to love with out qualifiers. I pray that my children will grow up loved and loving! Fully belonging!