Walking Selfishly

This is not a post about money or class privilege or social structure but those things frame it. I am not poor, not right now, anyway. I'm about to marry a man who, in two years, earns about what I've done in my lifetime (admittedly, I've not earned much, having been a stay-at-home mom for much of it). We have a nice house in a safe neighborhood. Last year, however, I did not have many options. I'd been laid off from my job and with my divorce lost my health insurance and my home. I was scraping by on $880 a month in unemployment benefits and lived in a spare room of a friend's house with my youngest son. Life was challenging and sometimes required some creative accounting ("Peter? Paul? Who gets paid this month?").

Ever hear of a Standardized Patient? A SP is a person who is hired and trained by a medical school to present specific symptoms to medical students who are learning how to do patient interviewing, examinations and diagnosing. I worked as an SP at Meharry a few years ago and last October, applied to do the same at Vanderbilt. The type of SP gig I was applying to do what much more specialized than general SP work and I was asked to get an exam by the end of the week as the training was to start shortly thereafter.

By this time I'd been without health insurance and unemployed for six months and hadn't an extra cent to my name so went to the only sliding scale clinic that could fit me in quickly: Planned Parenthood (cost $125 and I wound up paying late because I didn't have that much in my bank account at the time). The exam went fine, no problems, but the result from a test came back indicating a potential problem. The next step was to undergo a test which showed a moderate not-serious-now-but-very-serious-if-not-dealt-with condition. Unfortunately, PP doesn't have the resources to treat this condition so I was referred to The Center for Women's Healthcare at Meharry.

Meharry Medical College serves the people in Nashville who don't have health insurance. In many ways, I'm sure they do the best they can with the meager resources they have. I will say that they could do a whole lot better at training their intake staff. It took 5 months to get this procedure scheduled and during that time my records were lost, I was spoken to rudely and hung up on when I tried to find out who I needed to speak with about scheduling. I've been shocked at how unprofessional some of the administrative and support staff have been. I am able to advocate for myself, I can't imagine what it must be like for someone with fewer resources.

A week ago last Friday, I went in for my pre-procedure consultation. Anticipating further administrative problems, I got to registration early and checked in. I was told to wait in the lobby and would be called when they were ready. Again my paperwork was lost in the shuffle and I was left waiting for quite a long while. As I sat, increasingly miffed, looking at the other people sitting around me, I found myself thinking, "I don't belong here." I looked around at the other people, the young Hispanic mama with her beautiful, chubby children, the woman in the K-mart sweater with a thick Appalachian accent, the colorfully dressed middle aged man with highly polished pointy-toed alligator shoes, the older couple both wearing NASCAR t-shirts, the young tough with the tattooed neck and shaved head, all of whom were there for the same reason I was-lack of other options-and had the horrible impulse that I am better than them therefore I shouldn't have to be in that environment, treated with such apathy.

I, of course, did not see my own snobbery and bigotry then, I was too caught up with indignation. It wasn't until a few days later that I recalled the feeling of superiority and disdain I had. I've been wrestling with it since. The system sucks but the individuals are not the system, they suffer in it as I do, probably a whole lot more (for instance, I create my own work schedule so can take time off for appointments and not lose income). "...walk cheerfully answering that of God in every one." Hardly. I certainly wasn't aware of the presence of the living God while sitting there seething last Friday. I wasn't rude to anyone but I certainly wasn't a loving example either. I don't anticipate having to deal with our societal inequalities nor my own inner ugliness again for a while. I pray, though, that the next time I do, I'll be aware of God with me rather than paying all my attention to poor, pitiful me.

The Chihuahua is Alright

The Chihuahua has been alive and well and completely manic for the last long while so entering into worship has been seemingly less than rewarding. I sit still with my body mostly quiet, so I suppose I appear to others to have an Old Argus mind (Argus is my dog, the most gentle, mellow, wonderful dog ever). While my body is still, my mind is racing like a young greyhound after a jackrabbit. Mark and I have tried to remember to have daily worship with one another. We sit in the Quiet Room in The Burrow for 15 or so minutes in worship and then perhaps will do a bit of worship sharing around a query or whatever came up for one of us out of worship. I sit, quiet my body, and try to quiet my mind: I express my gratitude to God for the myriad blessings in my life, sometimes try to hold someone or something in prayer but generally by then The Chihuahua has been yipping with the determination of a fly at a picnic. This has been the pretty consistent state of my mind for months and months.

I don’t feel frustration with myself or feel I am failing or doing something wrong. I accept that this is the way my brain works and have found other ways I am able to connect with God. Although I’m not generally able to feel God’s immediate presence in the stillness of worship, I am aware of God with me and around me and sometimes through me. I know God is with me when I sit in silence waiting with others, even when The Chiuhauhua is yapping so loudly I’m utterly distracted from my awareness of God.

Last weekend, when working with Mark on our goal for Couples Enrichment, I felt God’s presence intimately and purely. God was with us, guiding us, as we held our relationship in prayer. When we sat in worship together on Monday, I thought about my inability to center into mental stillness in worship but how God is so near to me. In the past, it seemed to me that when The Chihuahua held ownership of my mind, I tended to be distant from God, unable to be immediately aware of God’s presence. But for the past year, year and a half or maybe longer, I’ve been more deliberately attentive to the practices I know bring me closer to God: writing, reading and especially talking with f/Friends about God and spiritual matters. I realize that not being able to be all Good Quaker by centering and quieting and going deep into worship is ok with God. I feel sure that God is good with whatever works for each of us. My intention in worship is to become aware of God and maybe I won’t be able to do so as centeredly, weightily or consistently as other Friends, but I will do it in my way, the way God made me to be, and it will be good.

Turning Outward

Mark and I were edified this week by participating in an FGC Couples Enrichment weekend. Couples were encouraged to identify and define a goal for the next year for their relationship. Our goal is spiritual in nature. Our main obstacle is our own tendencies toward procrastination so we decided to try to do a weekly worship—like a meeting for worship for the conduct of business for us as a couple—in which we hope to listen to any leadings God may have for us, set our intentions for the week, and create structure for ourselves in order to help us meet our goal. Scheduling our time somewhat will allow us to pursue things we feel are important--worship sharing, reading, studying, writing--but that we’ve not been attentive to recently because of more frivolous distractions. We trust that seeking God’s guidance will allow the myriad facets of our lives to take their rightful places.

As Mark and I sat together discussing our vision, I was given a clear message that we are to stop being so self-indulgent and prepare ourselves to take responsibility for what we have been given. Our goal is spiritual, learning to live together in Christ, but it seems that realizing this goal is grounded in the physical reality of The Burrow and so we are to apply ourselves to readying our home to offer hospitality. I think, perhaps in a feng shui-y kind of way, the boxes of books and dusty bookshelves are symbols of inattention. Making The Burrow comfortable and interesting for guests and for our family is the beginning of a larger calling, I think.

I do not in any way believe in a “name it and claim it” kind of theology. I don’t believe that God wants us to prosper in material wealth but in Truth. When I say that all I identified as wanting to bring into my life—and more—has been given me, it has. But I believe it has because stating my desires was done while seeking God’s will for me: listening, praying, waiting and discerning. When I wrote the blog in December 2010 about what I wanted to create in my life, it was informed by years of prayer and learning, conversations with centered and trusted Friends and even a Clearness Committee. After I wrote it, I lost my marriage, my job and my home and, against reason and my own impulses, was clearly instructed by God to… wait. Waiting is hard, especially when one hasn’t a clue why one is to wait. But the message to me was clear and so I waited. It wasn’t easy; at times I felt fear, anxiety, frustration, even despair, but I trusted God to have a plan and waited.

And then Mark entered my life bringing love and great joy! Our love brought this home and the amazing miracle of all my intentions into existence. I’ve spent the past two months awed at how good God has been to me, grateful every moment for Mark and the wonder and beauty of the life we’re creating together. But especially grateful to have been given the lesson of listening and waiting, the gift of faith.

The last two months with Mark have been a honeymoon, learning the day-to-dayness of how to live together, share, work side-by-side, balance needs, and rely on one another. We’ve had a marvelous time playing, laughing, and loving together. I wouldn’t say we’ve been irresponsible; what I would say, though, is that we’ve spent a lot more energy between us than directed outward. "To everything turn, turn, turn…" It wasn’t inappropriate for us to do that for a time. When we talked about our goal for the year, however, I had the clear message that it is time for us to use our energy to begin to actively bring the gifts we’ve been given to fruition. It is time to act.

I’ve no idea where this is going to lead, no clue what the outcome will be. God’s guidance is like that of a GPS—you only get the next little bit of the map, the part you need right now to act. Mark and I are learning to pray, wait, listen and discern together. When I said that I felt God clearly telling me that we are to begin turning our energies outward, he responded by saying the leading sounds true to him. I feel blessed beyond words to have this kind, passionate, hilariously funny man who is also my true spiritual helpmeet.

A Year of Releasing, A New Year of Embracing

Many changes in the past year. In reading through blogs I wrote, the theme, over and over, was about resting in the unknown and trusting God. I let go of/was relieved of so many things. I was uprooted from the life I’d known for 20 years. Although Frank and Nancy have been unfailingly kind and supportive, it was very hard to live with my son in one room in a friend's house. It was a serious test of patience and frugality to have no job and no income other than unemployment. Living with few certainties was usually stressful and often frightening. I had little that I could know, almost nothing to count on. I did have friends, my children and parents and I had complete faith that it would all make sense one day, that God would guide me to where I should be and I would eventually see the meaning.

Everything is changing again.

Mark and I established a casual friendship over the course of several years as Friendly Adult Presences (chaperones) in the Quaker teen program in our region, SAYF, and it was through this that we were able to connect, which led to us exploring a romantic relationship and falling in love. Although it seems sudden, we feel we have been guided by God. As we got to know one another as unmarried individuals, we found we have an amazing number of things in common. Our faith, the way we experience God and our values are the most important but we also share taste in food (we’re both vegetarian and for the same reason), music, writing, word play and games. We both have a desire to make Christ our center, living God’s will for us in all we do.

Mark and I began talking in April, dating in May and we bought a house together this week. He will be moving here immediately after Christmas. We plan to marry in the spring, if it be God’s will for us. We have prayed about each step of our relationship, asking, questioning, wanting it to work but trusting God to know what is best for us and we feel clear that where we are and the vision we share is good.

I look back over the last year and I thank God for everything. I am so grateful that I was without work for those 7 months so I could be with my best girlfriend through a difficult health crisis last June. I am grateful I could travel with Finn this past summer, visiting family and doing interesting things together. But especially I am grateful for the time with Mark. I’m grateful I was able to listen, trust and wait as God was telling me to do. If I had rushed or pushed or forced my life forward (by applying to any and all jobs and then taking the first one offered, by renting an apartment, etc.) I would not have learned to listen nor been available when Mark (re)entered my life.

This is from my friendlymama blogpost last New Year’s Eve:

I desire a life of submission to God’s will. I will actively do what I know will increase my awareness of God in my life, writing, prayer, fellowship, community. I will try to be open to new leadings and new directions. Not my will but Thine.

I would like to live a frugal life, relatively financially independent. I don’t want to think about retirement but about what kind of impact I am making on the world right now. I would like a low-stress job which would allow me the time to write and build community. Or, I would like to create a business that I can do from home such as owning an apartment building or running a hostel. Or, I’d like to find my own “right livelihood”. I trust Spirit to guide me.

Anyone who knows me or reads my blog knows I want to be automobile independent. In Nashville, with children in school and with a job, I don’t think this is possible. I would like to build into my new life as much freedom from auto-dependence as possible. I may still need to own a car but I would like to walk, (learn to) bike and ride buses whenever possible. I trust Spirit to lead me.

I would like an open house, that is, a house which is open and warm and inviting. I want to offer hospitality and to welcome people with food and generosity. (I’d really like a country kitchen, good for baking bread.) I would like my home to be a gathering place for my friends and my communities and my children’s friends. I trust Spirit to use me.

I would like to have greater compassion coupled with a more effective ability to act. I want to be a member of the Body of Christ on Earth, doing God’s work. I trust Spirit to teach me.

When I read that post and I think of all the loss and now all that is being given, I am awed. A year ago, I couldn’t imagine entering into a new relationship and yet God brought this amazing man into my life who supports and facilitates all those things I feel God is calling me to do. Besides the fact that I’m heels-over-head crazy in love with him, Mark seems the mate God created for me. He shares my desire to make our homelife an extension of our spiritual community. The home we now own, which we are calling The Burrow due to its abundance of space, is perfect for offering hospitality and living in community. It is in a neighborhood which will allow us to be much less car-dependent. We are hoping to rent the front third of The Burrow to a single parent to build community and to allow us to have an amount of financial flexibility. I most likely could not have bought this home without Mark and I am grateful beyond my ability to express that God put Mark in my life to be my mate, this man who loves me purely and truly, who accepts my love like a priceless gift and who shares with me the yearning to live in God.

On Name Calling, Karma, House Buying (and falling in love)

So what if I call him a jerk (or something slightly more colorful)? He doesn’t know and will never know. We’ve never met; will most likely never meet. The nature of our relationship is based on anonymity, ensured by each of us employing an agent to conduct our transactions for us. Our agent, who is just about the sweetest person one could ever meet, calls him a jerk—not in so many words, but still. His agent has begun implying that he feels his client is acting in a jerkish manner. I have confirmation and validation. Dude is being way uncool. Being in agreement that the price was fair, we offered what Seller was asking without attempting to negotiate a lower price. The contract, as is usual, stated that Seller would pay closing costs. Seller refused. Seller refused to pay for termite treatment. Seller tried to force inspections to be done within one week and then, after we capitulated on all the standard contract stipulations he refused, when he finally agreed to the other terms, he is now demanding that the closing take place within 3 weeks. You can imagine that I’d love nothing more than to be in my new home within 3 weeks after having been homeless since May but the mortgage company has everything to do with it at this point.
Hmmm…background, background and perhaps a little more background is in order. Where to start?

I’m buying a house. With Mark Wutka, who has become my beloved and my betrothed (but about whom there is so much to say it should be, and I’m sure will frequently be, subject for other blogposts). The house we are buying is in Nashville and Mark will be moving here to be with me after Christmas.



I’ve been looking at houses for YEARS. Dreaming, hoping, escaping, wishing, longing-plenty of pocketa-pocketa-pocketa Walter Mitty stuff-but also lots and lots and lots of research about neighborhoods and cost-per-square-foot and schools and energy efficiency and structural integrity and real estate as investment and so much more.

Being unable to afford private school tuition and realizing the need to commit to living in the area with the good public schools so we don’t have to go through the stress and rigmarole of figuring out which school will best meet Finn’s needs each year, I decided to put down roots in Sylvan Park (ironically, we’ve just begun homeschooling again, but that’s grist for yet another post).

This house we are buying, which we are calling The Burrow, has been on the market since 2008. It is big-4,000 square feet big-and ugly: it was originally a nice little house that a contractor added a 3,000 square foot box onto the back of in 2006. It was built as a triplex but is legally zoned for single family occupancy so can’t be used as an investment property and will require a lot of work to remodel into a single family dwelling. It is also a weird property, with a very random and illogical floor plan (hence The Burrow, for we Harry Potter fans). It’d been on the market for almost 3 years and then was sold in April of this year and then almost immediately put back on the market. The price was reduced a couple of times and when I called the listing agent to look at it in August, he said the buyer bought it to flip, turned down an offer shortly after it was listed and hadn’t gotten a nibble since then. The price was again lowered a couple of times when Mark and I began to talk seriously about buying a house together so we got a recommendation for a marvelous realtor, Angela, from our friends J&C and The Burrow was the first of 2 places we looked at. It has 9 or 10 bedrooms, 6 & ½ baths and 3 kitchens. It’s huge and odd and quirky but it seemed to fit us and our needs very well. Mark and I both feel a powerful call to center our lives in God and to make our home a continuation of our spiritual community by living near people who share our faith and also through hospitality. We would like to live independent of cars as much as possible and The Burrow is within walking distance of much of what we need and want to do, including Nashville Friends Meeting (we can’t wait to walk to meeting for worship every week!).

Our soon-to-be home is big enough to rent out the front 2-3 bedroom section to someone, preferably a single parent with a couple of children who wants to live in community or a single Quaker.

Removing the front third of The Burrow from consideration, we will still have 3,000 sf of living space which includes 7 bedrooms, 4&½ baths and 2 kitchens. Mark and I will share an office and bedroom and Zan and Finn will each have their own bedrooms. In addition to that, we will have a room for Mark’s granddaughters, a music room and a library, all of which will also act as guest rooms. The upstairs kitchen/dining area will be rec room/laundry room. We will be able to comfortably and easily welcome friends, visitors, travelers and host lots of parties, gatherings, worship groups and potlucks. We are excited that we will be able to practice hospitality in our home.

Back to the jerk, er…Seller. Mark, kind man that he is, does not call Seller rude names. To do so, he explained, would be to make assumptions that may color our behavior toward him. My argument was that we will never meet Seller and so how we refer to him in our private conversations will have no bearing on him. But now I think of this in terms of hospitality.

Hospitality to me means welcome, generosity, warmth, sharing, acceptance. I don’t know Seller’s story or anything about him. He made a very foolish business investment hoping to make a quick profit and it seems that he is digging his heels in and stubbornly insisting on squeezing every last cent out of it rather than being grateful to be out from under it. One could make assumptions about his character based on that but when I think about my definition of hospitality, my perspective shifts.

Mark and I became acquainted as unmarried people in April and began dating in May. It was pretty clear to both of us that we fell in love shortly thereafter. Since our initial conversation, it has seemed we stepped into The Slipstream and are being carried by God. Way has opened for us every step of our growing relationship. I could go on and on about how perfect we are together but I’ll spare you that (for now). What I will say is that I hadn’t really believed there was anyone in the world I would ever find perfect.

I accept, up to a point, the idea of karma, in that I accept that you get back the kind of energy you put out. I don’t have any connection to the idea of past lives or creating karma that is yours at your next birth, hardwiring conditions of your life. I have felt, however, that I must have accrued some seriously good karma to have been blessed with the gift of Mark. Whatever the circumstances, whether it was karma or, as I feel is more true, that God has brought us together for a purpose because we belong together as partners while we serve God, I know we should have hospitality in mind.

And in thinking about Seller in the context of karma or of hospitality, referring to him as “The Jerk” does not feel right. He may not be the most lovable person but Jesus didn’t tell us to love only the people who make our lives easy. I wouldn’t call Seller my enemy but it is an easy step to go from calling him The Jerk to thinking of him as an adversary and what does that do? When I call Seller a jerk, I’m not affecting his karma nor changing him in any way but I am creating negativity and an inhospitable mindset. Out of bad experiences we learn and grow and carry with us the potential for transformative purpose. Although Seller seems to have given us a hard time for no good reason, who is to say that Seller isn’t giving us an opportunity for good? Maybe, instead of calling him The Jerk, I should be praising him? This is life and we have no way to know what will come. I spend my life trusting that what I’m learning will have meaning and a use one day. Maybe the lesson right now is to not call people names even when they seem to be deliberately unpleasant, a lesson I should have learned at my mother’s knee but which I obviously did not heed. Maybe the lesson is further patience; maybe it is something about which I currently have no inkling. Whatever the case, I am trying to let go of negativity and assume the best. My life has love aplenty to share and I needn’t be so narrow minded as to think it should only be shared with those who will return it. Blessings for Seller with no stipulations like hope for a softening of his heart: simply blessings for him.