Not the most chipper title I could have, eh?! This may get rambley. The intended purpose of writing my blog was to write about things that impassion me, get my intellectual gears moving a bit, and perhaps somewhere along the way, if my words fall on some ears and have some sort of affect, then even better. Sometimes icky things just need to find their way out of us. This one is me attempting to exorcise my demon.
I spend some of my time pondering if my perspective pertaining to the topic of moral fortitude is more or less formulated from my upbringing. I wonder if my expectations of folks integrity and character are solely based off the integrity and character exemplified for me growing up? I have a close friend who makes fun of me because apparently I have spoken numerous times about how, "I come from good stock". Truth is, and apparently I'm not bashful in admitting, I do come from really good stock. Despite what has been ingrained in me since I was a child, I have observed and felt the negative effects of people around me falling short of what I deem as my moral bar. I should first classify what I'm about to say by stating that I was really blessed with an amazing village. "It takes a village to raise a child." My village was marked by solid character, integrity, long and enduring marriages, and the stamina to stick to your moral guns in the midst of adversity.
My elders never exemplified for me large decision making in the wake of emotions. They were steady. Life wasn't yanked back and forth. If mom or dad were in a bad mood or arguing, we still went to all planned events. I studied (intentionally and unintentionally) my parents, their responses to each other, situations, etc. What I have witnessed over my 30 years is that marriage takes a lot of work and a lot of love. You cannot force the love, that just has to be present. You do, however, choose to do the work. That takes commitment and MORAL FORTITUDE. As it is in any family, we've had our hardships. We've had our gut-aching, tear wrenching, world spinning, hardships but one thing I have never observed was the moral fortitude, integrity, and character of my family be compromised. Please do not mistake this as we never lost our temper, shouted things in anger, slammed doors, or lost control. I'm simply referencing the stamina and decision to stick to what you know is right in the face of trouble, heartache, and hardship; staying consistent, stable, and strong.
My Mom has always said to me that I need to quit expecting people to uphold a certain level of moral integrity. After suffering from high expectations not being met by others character, she wanted to see me grow some thicker skin. As she has also always said, "Love a lot. Trust a few. Learn how to paddle your own damn canoe". #1 problem I've had in my life is trusting folks who hadn't yet earned it. Ya give them your trust and love and they end up not being what you thought. Dad has always said, "Don't expect nothin' from no one. If ya don't expect anything, ya won't be disappointed". He's a little harder than what I can be. ;)
As hurt as I have been at times, I never seem to lose my faith in people. I'm just not hot-wired that way. I am however, learning to ease into people more. Anyone can pretend to be something they are not for a given amount of time. It's life's obstacles, trials, tribulations, AND TIME, that give way to seeing who someone really is. If you have moral courage and strength in the midst of pain and adversity; no one can dispute that you really possess those qualities. Clearly, I have a personal reason for writing about this. Clearly I've been blown away by someone's inability to stay of strong character. I'm learning that my sense of morals and values are not others and for those that do not uphold the same as me, I simply need to let them tread their own path. I am powerless over other people's decisions and character. Some folks have higher standards than me and some have lower. I am just me at the end of the day and need to do what I can to continually make myself better and exemplify those things I value most.
INTEGRITY or lack there of isn't just what you present other people with. It's also what happens behind closed doors when no one is looking. It's in our thoughts, souls, actions, and words. Character and the self are what we are left with at the end of the day when we lay our heads on our pillows at night (if we're lucky enough to have them) and hear in the quiet. I always told my clients what matters the most is who you are to yourself when you lay your head down for the night. I am powerless over others decisions and character they exude. When I lay my head down at night what matters is if I am pleased with who I am before people and away. Moral fortitude instilled in me by my family is what is causes me at my most desperate of times to still exemplify integrity and most nights go to bed well pleased with who I am and what I value. Dad is right but at the same time, I don't understand when folks equipped with knowing the difference between right and wrong choose the wrong. Thanks be to God for a moral compass and somehow the strength to go where it leads!
"Live so that when your children think of fairness and integrity, they think of you" - H. Jackson Brown
*The foundation to the above begins before you have kids….
Monday, January 27, 2014
Friday, January 17, 2014
Fake Facebook Posts and Suicide
In the wake of yet another classmates untimely passing, I am yet again reminded of stuff I just said in a recent post. This classmates death at 30 years of age has been described publicly as "unexpected". I've had three other classmates of mine have "unexpected" deaths. I don't want to assume but prior experience says at this age, it means one thing. I talked about in a previous blog about how some of us for whatever reasons get to the bottom of our barrels and somehow manage to get out of that darkness; others succumb to it. I was specifically referencing 3 of my classmates that took their own lives. One had a family of his own and financial woes. Another reached out to me two days before he shot himself in the head. Another struggled with the loss of his 4 friends that were killed in a tragic car accident when we were Sophomores. They accidentally slammed a car into a tree going over 100mph. He had a suicide attempt once in high school and drove his car into the same tree his friends did. He wasn't successful. After we graduated he was. This week, we are left to another "unexpected" death. Word hasn't traveled through the grapevine yet for any of us to know yet but I will say this; ironically I found myself looking through her Facebook page a few weeks ago. This woman and I have been estranged since high school. I wondered how life was treating her. So naturally I Facebook stalked her just like I did with the guy that shot himself in the head just prior to his death. I noticed that she didn't have much to say or post on fb.
Alarms went off in me when I saw that (we will call him John) John had practically nothing on his fb for a long bout of time. I'm a social worker. I identify when folks are suicidal or bordering suicidal ideation. I know what to look for. I'm trained in how to handle it. I hadn't talked to John for 10 years since we graduated. John reached out to me randomly one night via Facebook messenger. I thought this to be ironic since I was just randomly Facebook stalking him a few days prior. He was so inquisitive of my life. I inquired back and he'd brush off my questions about his life. Another warning sign. Alarms going off. Since I hadn't spoken with him in 10 years, I quickly grew weary of talking about my life and not hearing anything about his. I simply said I had to go to bed. It was good catching up. Goodnight. He was so sweet to me about everything and it was odd to me because 10 YEARS!!! I thought to myself that night, "I know he's in Grand Haven. Should I call for a welfare check on him?!". It was a gut feeling I had and not confirmed by anything John had said to me that night. Two days later he blew his head off. I'm trained in recognizing that stuff. That's my job. That's what I do and God dammit! I knew.
The most recent classmate that died "unexpectedly", I ironically found myself randomly Facebook stalking her for the first time in 12 years just two weeks ago. Social media is bullshit most of the time. I'm not fooled by so many of our posts expressing that life is so grand and full. I know that for a decent amount of us, the bold, abundant, filled with smiles and happiness posts, have a darker background then what's presented. Certainly we all can't be as happy as we present. And this is where my realistic concern comes in. I've lost 3-4 classmates now to suicide; to the darkness. I've learned that it doesn't matter if you have a spouse or kids. I've learned that the decision to exit this world on your own accord isn't based on thinking about how it effects others; it's about choosing to end your own struggle; to stop the darkness. It can get so consuming sometimes, so lonely, that the only solution after so long is to just end it. I always thought about suicide (I should mention I just lost a close client of mine to completion of suicide this past Spring) as such a selfish thing. How could you leave so and so?! When we are in those most desperate places there is no one else. Mentally/emotionally we are alone and we just want to see some light and feel some peace.
I've never been suicidal but I've spent some time in the darkness that has swallowed up a few of my classmates. In the darkest places, no one was with me except my God. But I recognize that it's not that way for everyone. For some of us, it's just an empty darkness that swallows us up and we are alone. In the days to come I am confident that my small town community will talk and we will all find out what really happened to my female classmate. Regardless if it is what I suspect or not, suicide and the darkness are something that we all need to talk about. It has become increasingly apparent to me that my graduating class and I will always be bound by going through some of the most pivotal years together. No matter where we are, who we were to each other or who we weren't to each other, when one of us leaves this world, it affects us. To my graduating class, none of us are nobodies. What I hope comes from the most recent death, is conversation. Whether or not it was suicide, it's something that needs to be talked about. Whether or not, without her counting, we've lost 3 classmates to that darkness. It is my hope that somehow, since we all matter in some capacity to each other, that with this fake ass social media front some of us put on, we can look past that, reach past that, and support each other in life like we have those we have lost in death. Let us not have a reason to reflect and realize how much someone means to us after it's too late.
The darkness swallows some of us up while others get out. It's a wonder why some of us get out. I am an example of that. If we all matter…let us all care. Conversation begin…..
Alarms went off in me when I saw that (we will call him John) John had practically nothing on his fb for a long bout of time. I'm a social worker. I identify when folks are suicidal or bordering suicidal ideation. I know what to look for. I'm trained in how to handle it. I hadn't talked to John for 10 years since we graduated. John reached out to me randomly one night via Facebook messenger. I thought this to be ironic since I was just randomly Facebook stalking him a few days prior. He was so inquisitive of my life. I inquired back and he'd brush off my questions about his life. Another warning sign. Alarms going off. Since I hadn't spoken with him in 10 years, I quickly grew weary of talking about my life and not hearing anything about his. I simply said I had to go to bed. It was good catching up. Goodnight. He was so sweet to me about everything and it was odd to me because 10 YEARS!!! I thought to myself that night, "I know he's in Grand Haven. Should I call for a welfare check on him?!". It was a gut feeling I had and not confirmed by anything John had said to me that night. Two days later he blew his head off. I'm trained in recognizing that stuff. That's my job. That's what I do and God dammit! I knew.
The most recent classmate that died "unexpectedly", I ironically found myself randomly Facebook stalking her for the first time in 12 years just two weeks ago. Social media is bullshit most of the time. I'm not fooled by so many of our posts expressing that life is so grand and full. I know that for a decent amount of us, the bold, abundant, filled with smiles and happiness posts, have a darker background then what's presented. Certainly we all can't be as happy as we present. And this is where my realistic concern comes in. I've lost 3-4 classmates now to suicide; to the darkness. I've learned that it doesn't matter if you have a spouse or kids. I've learned that the decision to exit this world on your own accord isn't based on thinking about how it effects others; it's about choosing to end your own struggle; to stop the darkness. It can get so consuming sometimes, so lonely, that the only solution after so long is to just end it. I always thought about suicide (I should mention I just lost a close client of mine to completion of suicide this past Spring) as such a selfish thing. How could you leave so and so?! When we are in those most desperate places there is no one else. Mentally/emotionally we are alone and we just want to see some light and feel some peace.
I've never been suicidal but I've spent some time in the darkness that has swallowed up a few of my classmates. In the darkest places, no one was with me except my God. But I recognize that it's not that way for everyone. For some of us, it's just an empty darkness that swallows us up and we are alone. In the days to come I am confident that my small town community will talk and we will all find out what really happened to my female classmate. Regardless if it is what I suspect or not, suicide and the darkness are something that we all need to talk about. It has become increasingly apparent to me that my graduating class and I will always be bound by going through some of the most pivotal years together. No matter where we are, who we were to each other or who we weren't to each other, when one of us leaves this world, it affects us. To my graduating class, none of us are nobodies. What I hope comes from the most recent death, is conversation. Whether or not it was suicide, it's something that needs to be talked about. Whether or not, without her counting, we've lost 3 classmates to that darkness. It is my hope that somehow, since we all matter in some capacity to each other, that with this fake ass social media front some of us put on, we can look past that, reach past that, and support each other in life like we have those we have lost in death. Let us not have a reason to reflect and realize how much someone means to us after it's too late.
The darkness swallows some of us up while others get out. It's a wonder why some of us get out. I am an example of that. If we all matter…let us all care. Conversation begin…..
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
My Cup Only Has Drips In It; It is He that I Seek
Standing alone in my apartment tonight I found myself starring off into space at my bookshelf. It's filled to maximum capacity with Christian non-fiction books (mostly from undergrad), picture frames of a few beloved friends, and my old journals. I had nothing on the schedule. Nowhere to be. No thoughts to be had. Empty room and space for me to zone out or create. I found myself reaching for an old journal of mine. I've always had this habit of starting a journal and then stop writing in it a quarter of the way because I didn't care for the course my life was on and thought if I started a new journal some new story would begin.
This journal that I held in my hands has a cover that says, "Lord, make me an instrument of your peace". This is a prayer of St. Francis. I quickly realized that the majority of the journal was actually wrote in! Over the course of a couple of years I wrote a lot. I stuck with it and this journal. This occurred between Sophomore year at Hope College through the first half of Senior year. What a special gift to have this time period wrote down! Journal entry after journal entry was prayers to God and thoughts of a spiritual nature. My humanness and sin wrote down with the dichotomy of Hope, forgiveness, and restoration. In reading some entries, I've come to a conclusion that I have apparently many times before; one must give out of the overflow of their cup. If their cup is empty at all, one cannot give to others like they could or as God may wish for us. In my reading I also had something re-affirmed. God uses those in some of the most special of ways when we think we are of no use at all. Comparatively speaking to my faith filled college days, I am currently so far astray and dry. Comparatively speaking, in college when I was at my most distant from God, I was so close to Him.
I read my words, I see my handwriting, and I hear my prayers over again. It would appear as if some Christ-filled, passionate, woman possessed my body at that time. There have been multiple times over the years of distance that I've reflected on the closeness I felt in college when supported by fellow Christian brothers and sisters, chapel 3 times a week, and then The Gathering on Sundays. Insert Bible studies into that and loads of spiritually packed conversations and times of prayer. Most people don't believe me when they tell me how they partied their way through college and I say, I prayed my way through college. Truth be spoken, I had a much different focus. I reflect on those pivotal years engorged with spiritual passion and a much more finely tuned ear towards the Lord. Upon reflecting over those years, I've often found myself feeling very disconnected from the woman I was then. I find myself missing her, missing the prayers, missing the ear towards the Lord.
Truth is, ironically that woman lives in me. I've always looked back longingly and somewhat lost in this world. Hope College made faith easy compared to being out in the real world (especially as someone who deviates from the sexual norm). Truth is, I've been scared and relying on myself for far too long. Truth is, all of that was runs low key through my blood every day and is still my foundation. Time to fill my cup! Sometimes we get so far into OUR lives, dreams, hopes, visions, that we forget that it's not OURS to begin with. Sometimes we get so lost in the worlds we create for ourselves and our understanding of them that God has no choice but kick our asses back to step 1, recreate, and restore.
This journal that I held in my hands has a cover that says, "Lord, make me an instrument of your peace". This is a prayer of St. Francis. I quickly realized that the majority of the journal was actually wrote in! Over the course of a couple of years I wrote a lot. I stuck with it and this journal. This occurred between Sophomore year at Hope College through the first half of Senior year. What a special gift to have this time period wrote down! Journal entry after journal entry was prayers to God and thoughts of a spiritual nature. My humanness and sin wrote down with the dichotomy of Hope, forgiveness, and restoration. In reading some entries, I've come to a conclusion that I have apparently many times before; one must give out of the overflow of their cup. If their cup is empty at all, one cannot give to others like they could or as God may wish for us. In my reading I also had something re-affirmed. God uses those in some of the most special of ways when we think we are of no use at all. Comparatively speaking to my faith filled college days, I am currently so far astray and dry. Comparatively speaking, in college when I was at my most distant from God, I was so close to Him.
I read my words, I see my handwriting, and I hear my prayers over again. It would appear as if some Christ-filled, passionate, woman possessed my body at that time. There have been multiple times over the years of distance that I've reflected on the closeness I felt in college when supported by fellow Christian brothers and sisters, chapel 3 times a week, and then The Gathering on Sundays. Insert Bible studies into that and loads of spiritually packed conversations and times of prayer. Most people don't believe me when they tell me how they partied their way through college and I say, I prayed my way through college. Truth be spoken, I had a much different focus. I reflect on those pivotal years engorged with spiritual passion and a much more finely tuned ear towards the Lord. Upon reflecting over those years, I've often found myself feeling very disconnected from the woman I was then. I find myself missing her, missing the prayers, missing the ear towards the Lord.
Truth is, ironically that woman lives in me. I've always looked back longingly and somewhat lost in this world. Hope College made faith easy compared to being out in the real world (especially as someone who deviates from the sexual norm). Truth is, I've been scared and relying on myself for far too long. Truth is, all of that was runs low key through my blood every day and is still my foundation. Time to fill my cup! Sometimes we get so far into OUR lives, dreams, hopes, visions, that we forget that it's not OURS to begin with. Sometimes we get so lost in the worlds we create for ourselves and our understanding of them that God has no choice but kick our asses back to step 1, recreate, and restore.
Thanks be to God for never letting us go. The Anchor of HOPE founded in God.
"Nevertheless I am continually with you; you hold my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will receive me with honor. Whom have I in Heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire other than you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever". - Psalm 73: 23-26
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