Let's talk vaccines: ᵀʰᵉ ᴴⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ⱽᵃᶜᶜⁱⁿᵉˢ

Buckle up, we are taking a road trip to discover vaccines. 

A great place to start talking about vaccines is at the beginning. And chances are good the beginning is not where any of us think it is.

Throughout history, there have been many illnesses and diseases. But two have caused perhaps the most deaths and illnesses throughout the whole of time. Measles and Smallpox. Thought to be the "same" thing, in 0910 a Persian physician was the first to publish a written account titled “On Smallpox and Measles” in which he describes the two diseases as being distinct and unique from each other. Which meant that two different ways of treating them would be needed, based on their specific characteristics.

But the story of vaccines does not begin with the first vaccine in 1798 - Edward Jenner’s use of material from cowpox pustules to provide protection against smallpox. Rather, it begins with the long history of infectious disease in humans, and in particular, with early uses of smallpox material to provide immunity to that disease.

Evidence exists that the Chinese employed smallpox inoculation (or variolation, as such use of smallpox material was called) as early as 1000 CE. In the late 1600s Emperor K'ang Hsi, who had survived smallpox as a child, had his children inoculated.

There were two methods of inoculation known to be used in those days. Grinding up smallpox scabs and blowing the matter into the nostril or scratching matter from a smallpox sore into the skin.

As infectious diseases swept through nations the need for a way to halt these diseases and treat them was being pursued. The Chinese method of inoculation hadn't caught on and/or people were suspicious of its ability to stop the disease. Smallpox and measles were joined by epidemics of pertussis (whooping cough), typhoid fever, diphtheria, yellow fever, scarlet fever, cholera, and polio...to name a few.

According to historical records, between 1545 and 1817 various parts of the world experienced smallpox, whooping cough, measles, typhoid fever, diphtheria, and yellow fever epidemics.

An epidemic is a disease that affects a large number of people within a community, population, or region. A pandemic is an epidemic that's spread over multiple countries or continents.

Presumably, due to an increase in travel and transportation advancements, pandemics became the concern starting with a cholera outbreak in 1817 that swept through India, Asia, and then traveled throughout the world leading to seven major cholera pandemics, each lasting several years, between 1817 and present day. Yes! Present-day!

Prior to the gaining popularity of early inoculation methods, the treatment for these diseases consisted of quarantining, providing comfort measures, attempting to bring down high fevers, bloodletting, inducement of vomiting, alcohol-laced with herbs, and praying that the person wouldn't die or suffer from physical damage due to the disease.

Once again, the Chinese made vaccine headlines (figuratively of course) when Emperor K’ang verbalized support for inoculation in a letter to his descendants in 1661. Having survived a case of smallpox before he became Emperor he wrote:

“The method of inoculation having been brought to light during my reign, I had it used upon you, my sons and daughters, and my descendants, and you all passed through the smallpox in the happiest possible manner…. In the beginning, when I had it tested on one or two people, some old women taxed me with extravagance and spoke very strongly against inoculation. The courage which I summoned up to insist on its practice has saved the lives and health of millions of men. This is an extremely important thing, of which I am very proud.”

In the 1700s variolation started to be practiced more and more as word spread that it worked. Fewer people were dying and that was looked upon favorably.

But what's variolation? Isn't it vaccination? Aren't they the same?

 

Variolation (inoculation) served as a natural precursor to the discovery of vaccination. The development, adoption, and improvement of infectious disease responses are messy processes – there's never a single “eureka” event. There always has to be a precursor, or two, before arriving at the end result.

This method of treatment was used strictly with smallpox outbreaks as the disease provided a visible form of the infection to use.

With variolation, a small amount of the pus from a person infected with smallpox was placed into the skin of an uninfected person. The thought was that the disease would then take hold in the previously uninfected person but in a mild form. It was discovered to be less dangerous to contract it through inoculation than to contract it naturally.

This method of safeguarding against dangerous diseases was never risk-free, nor did advocates of the method claim it to be risk-free. But it greatly reduced the mortality rates. Between 1% to 2% of those variolated died as compared to 30% who died when they contracted the disease naturally.

Inoculation gained popularity in the 1700s.

In 1721 Cotton Mather, thanks to the information his African slave provided him, suggested physician Zabdiel Boylston try the inoculation method as an outbreak of smallpox was ravaging Boston. 248 people were variolated and of those 248, 3% - or 6 people - died. Of those left to the disease and vulnerable to its symptoms 14% died. Thus, variolation had come to the Americas.

Meanwhile, across the pond, Lady Mary Wortley Montagu had been introduced to "engrafting" in Turkey and when arriving back in England in 1721 requested it be done to her two-year-old daughter. Her son had been engrafted while they were in Turkey. Thus, variolation had come to England.

Both Mather and Lady Montagu would come under considerable criticism for advocating variolation, a practice that slowly began to spread as its ability to protect against smallpox became apparent even in light of its fatality rates and the discovery that variolated individuals could pass the disease on to others.

In the 1770s rumors began circulating about a disease called cowpox. People who regularly worked with cattle were claiming that their exposure, and subsequent infection, to cowpox inoculated them against smallpox.

Cowpox is an uncommon illness in cattle, usually mild, that can be spread from a cow to humans via sores on the cow. During an infection, dairy workers may have pustules on their hands. Sufferers can spread the infection to other parts of the body.

Around 1774 farmer Benjamin Jesty inoculated his wife and two sons with matter from a cowpox lesion on one of his cows.

Jesty, having already contracted cowpox, believed himself protected from smallpox infection. When a serious smallpox epidemic hit his Dorset village, he, from his “great strength of mind,” took it upon himself to protect his family. His wife and children survived, and the boys, when challenged with smallpox inoculation in 1789, showed no symptoms.

Mr. Jesty, however, had no interest in systematically testing his methods or publishing his results, and so his finding was largely forgotten. Upon his death, his wife had his tombstone inscribed, “the first person (known) who introduced the cow-pox inoculation.”

Twenty-two years after Benjamin Jesty successfully inoculated his family with cowpox to avoid smallpox, Dr. Edward Jenner began testing and creating what would become the world's first vaccine.

In the 1770s Jenner had also heard the rumors about using cowpox to inoculate against smallpox but he was still in the thick of his medical school studies and residency program.

However, in May 1796 Dr. Jenner inoculated eight-year-old James Phipps with matter from a cowpox sore on the hand of a milkmaid. Phipps suffered a local reaction and felt poorly for several days but made a full recovery. So in July 1796, Jenner inoculated Phipps with matter taken from a fresh human smallpox sore, as if he were variolating the boy, in an attempt to challenge the protection from cowpox. Phipps remained healthy.

Jenner next demonstrated that cowpox matter transferred in a human chain, from one person to the next, provided protection from smallpox.

For the next couple of years, Dr. Jenner continued to test his idea on patients and saw great success. He wrote a paper for the Royal Society of his findings but they rejected it. So Jenner self-published a pamphlet called “An Inquiry into the Causes and Effects of the Variolae Vaccinae, a Disease discovered in some of the Western Counties of England, particularly Gloucestershire, and known by the name of the Cow Pox.” It outlined Jenner’s success in protecting James Phipps from smallpox infection with material from a cowpox pustule, in addition to 22 related cases. At first, the news was received quietly if received at all. But that changed when an associate of Jenner's, Henry Cline, used dried vaccine material provided by Jenner to demonstrate once again that vaccination with cowpox material prevented future smallpox infection.

The vaccine started to gain traction and quickly became preferred over variolation for its improved success and safety.

But, didn't Jenner engraft James Phipps? He took the pus from the infection and placed it under the skin of an uninfected person. That's what people had been doing for years by 1796! So how was what Jenner did different than what everyone else was doing?

So, how are variolation and vaccination different from one another?

Both are using infected pus to infect, in the hopes of immunity, uninfected people.

The difference is subtle but very important. Variolation used viral matter from smallpox patients, usually pus from a light case of smallpox. Jenner's vaccination, meanwhile, used matter from the milder cowpox virus. As a milder disease carrying the same immunities, cowpox matter was much safer. Both methods are also called inoculation because inoculation is the process of introducing a small amount of viral matter into the body in order to teach the body’s immune system to fight off the virus, thus making the patient immune to future infection.

So step one in what would become today's modern vaccination was successfully tested and completed. As is the case with any invention, the first workable treatment would be replaced with an improved option and that cycle would continue until we arrived at the year 2020 and the need for a new vaccine presented itself.

But, that part of the story is much later.

Between Jenner's successful test run of the smallpox vaccine in 1796 and 1879, the vaccine creation and delivery methods stayed the same. In order to meet the demand vaccine farms were created, voices of government endorsed the method, variolation was outlawed in certain parts of the world, and other infectious diseases were being dissected in hopes of developing vaccines.

In the last decade of Jenner's life smallpox mortality rates in Britain declined by approximately 43% thanks to the vaccine.

So what happened in 1879 to push the vaccine forward yet again toward what we know it as today?

What happened was Louis Pasteur was born in 1822.

Between his birth in 1822 and 1879, Pasteur grew up and became an accomplished academic. In 1831 he witnessed firsthand a rabies outbreak and that gave him the desire to solve that problem as well as others. Between 1840 and 1847 Pasteur earned at least 4 degrees. He was found in 1849 teaching Chemistry. In 1854 Pasteur began studying fermentation which would end up being crucial to the next step in modernizing vaccines. Despite a stroke that left his left arm and leg permanently paralyzed, Pasteur persevered in his research and produced the first laboratory-developed vaccine in 1879. It was a vaccine for chicken cholera (Pasteurella multocida).

A happy accident led to this step in vaccine production as Pasteur's assistant didn't follow instructions and the bacteria was exposed to oxygen. Turned out that the oxygen exposed bacteria weakened the disease enough to make it effective in providing protection against the full-strength bacteria.

When Louis Pasteur died in 1895 his life's work had accomplished advancements in vaccine production; he had proved that germs cause disease; he developed vaccines for anthrax and rabies, and he created the process of pasteurization.

{You can find all the sources I used by clicking here.} 

Trading in FOMO for JOMO

I'm an introvert so I don't mind missing out on things. But social media has been different, it's changed me in ways I'm uncomfortable with. 

At first, it was just a way to stay in touch with people. But then, with its growing population came content. So much content that it's overwhelming and it makes one feel as if they are missing out if they don't keep up with all the content. 

It has the ability to make people feel unimportant if they don't know someone's latest status update. 

For something that was supposed to increase our social interaction it has ironically isolated us and diminished our ability to be authentically social. 

It's created weird popularity contests and fake personas. 

It's introduced fear into our lives. Fear that we can't keep up with "the Jones' " whose life looks so perfect in all those pictures shared, I mean do they ever not smile? Actually, yes. They don't smile more than they do but who wants to see that? So the smiles get shared and the comparisons get drawn. But if all you and I see are the smiles we are forced to conclude that the Jones' are incredibly happy and successful and fill in the blank. 

It's introduced a whole new platform for rude, crude, and disrespectful behavior. People have forgotten their manners when *interacting* on social media. As people log in to their accounts it seems like they put their humanity on hold and forget that who they will be interacting with is a human as well. 

It's become a battle ground for all the biggies and then things that shouldn't be big but are made so by the attention they receive on social media. 

It is a hotbed of misinterpretation, innuendo, assumptions, false information, and one-up-man-ship. 

But I didn't want to miss any of it. I wanted to be in the know of who said what to whom and what the relationship status is of so and so and how the most recent catastrophe was gaining attention and and and. The list goes on like that damn energizer bunny. 

And then I wanted to miss it all. I couldn't breathe. It was, it is, too much. TOO MUCH. My phone was dinging with notifications, my computer would (it seemed) open up on to Facebook, I felt behind (with what I'm not sure) if I didn't check in a couple times an hour at least. (Pst. Nothing had changed that was significant.) In 2009, 2012, and 2016 I went overseas and my ability to check in on social media was zero to limited. It was a huge relief. HUGE. It was a relief to not think about what kind of insightful, quippy, and/or meaningful status I was going to post. It was a relief to get a break from all the content that populated my home page feed. It was a relief to remember there was life apart from social media. It was a relief to know I could miss out because I wasn't really missing out on what mattered. 

In 2018 I took Facebook off my phone completely. I logged out of Facebook and changed all my logins that used Facebook to logins through my email. I removed Facebook from my bookmarks and then left Facebook for a month. It was good, no it was great. Somehow people still managed to get a hold of me and I of them, who knew it could be done outside of social media?! But I came back to it for a couple of reasons. And I was frustrated that I even had the reasons I did. So I started thinking harder and longer about leaving it all together and what that would mean for me and my relationships. I became insanely envious of my brother who hasn't touched Facebook with a ten foot pole and hasn't been sucked into the social media vortex. Lucky guy. I started thinking through what was the most important thing to me about having a Facebook account and could there be a work around? Of course the answer is yes. There is always a work around. It might take some adjustments and transitioning but isn't that just part of life? 

So as we rounded the corner on 2019 and 2020 came into sight, I knew it was time. Listen, I'll be honest people - I can't do another election season on social media. The last one was so brutal that I am still trying to recover from it and no, I'm not joking or exaggerating. That's great if *you* have thick skin and don't care if your humanity is called into question. I'm not like that and frankly I don't want to be. 

FOMO, in my life, is all about missing out of the non-essential things. I sure as hell hope that my tribe knows how to communicate with me outside of social media and will do so when the chips are down and the stakes high in their lives. If you are in my tribe, Facebook should not be our sole means of staying in touch. That's a superficial connection that is easily broken. My tribe and I should have stronger threads holding us together...and I think we do.

So JOMO is my goal. As an introvert, it's a more attainable goal than it may be for others and I still have that twinge of FOMO but I'll get over it, I practically am already. 

My (MIS)adventures on the yoga mat

I almost suffocated at yoga today. My boobs and my nose met up and my boobs sucked in my nose like they were quicksand grabbing on. I had visions of my obituary reading something to the effect of "she died during an awkward yoga session when her boobs smothered her." I pulled up for air just in time.

Yoga is supposed to increase your awareness. Oh, I'm aware all right.

I'm aware of every roll, every fold, and every inflexible muscle I have. I'm aware that I don't know how to breathe (how I've stayed alive all these years is beyond me) and I am in fact as klutzy as I have thought myself to be. I'm aware of the sweat as it drips down my forehead, travels in a torturous way down my neck and pools between my boobs, all while I'm holding some quivering pose and can't wipe it away.

I'm also aware of my mind. "I can't", "This is ridiculous", "It's too hard", "I'm too big to do this", "I'll never...", and the litany of phrases marches on while I'm trying crow pose...or really almost any pose. I'm aware of my heart beating, not in the physical way but in the emotional sense. It beats and sometimes my eyes tear up and I don't know why. I'm aware I am uncomfortable, not just physically but mentally. I attempt to keep to myself, to make my large body as small as possible. Sometimes that awareness is when my eyes tear up. I'm aware that I am fidgety, distracted, and it's hard to just be.

So I suppose yoga is working. I'm definitely more aware when I'm practicing it.

As I was growing up I was given the impression that yoga was for hippies and it was evil. I'm not joking. In the circles I lived in, yoga was considered "new age" which was evil. So like any good lemming I have spent a good part of my life thinking yoga was bad. Very very bad. And then I decided to not believe that any longer because all of a sudden it didn't seem true and it seemed a little far-fetched that yoga, a practice in which you move your body for health and wellness, was evil.

Around 2012-2013 I started talking about beginning the practice of yoga. I took one class in 2017 and continued to talk about it. July 2019 I finally started, for real, the practice of yoga. It only took me 6-7 years...better late than never I suppose.

I'm an awkward yogi. Okay, I'm not really a yogi but go with it. The point is I'm awkward. For the first few classes I would find my mat folded up underneath me and I couldn't figure out how it had moved. I've figured out that issue but I still find myself more often than not somehow laying on the mat wonky. An aerial view would show the mat and I making an X. I don't know how this happens. A few times I have found myself with my whole lower body not even on the mat. Do I really not understand how to center myself? Well, since I'm so aware now, thanks to yoga, the answer is no I don't. I don't know how to center myself, literally or figuratively. But I'm going to learn.

After I almost suffocated in my boobs today I did a few things I was really proud of. I was in chair pose, I then went into airplane pose with my upper body. The the instructor suggested we raise ourselves up on our toes and balance in the half-chair, half-airplane pose. I immediately thought, "There is no way on God's green earth that's happening" and then I did it. It had to be a fluke. But then I did it again on the next flow. I was inwardly elated. I also did a few other poses today that, at first, I was like "psh, not happening" and then just did them. So I guess something else I'm more aware of is that I can be, and am, wrong about myself. I'm not giving myself enough credit, I can do more than what I think I can.

Why Self-Checkout is the Least of Your Concerns

I think I've heard it all...

"Self-Checkout is stealing jobs from people." NOPE. They aren't.* I work in a original size Target store and we have four self-checkouts (see above picture). Target hires people to specifically oversee the self-checkouts and it's more work and more stress than being a cashier at one register. Why? One person has to oversee four registers versus just one. Trust me, it ain't a cake walk especially when the technology fails or a guest has a question/complaint or it's a rush hour situation.

"Self-Checkout is evil." REALLY? What about human trafficking? Drug problems? Abuses? Systematic racism? Broken educational systems? I could go on and on but hopefully you catch my drift.

"If I can get your employee discount I will use the self-checkout." HUH. Don't be that person. I mean really, don't be an ass.

Listen, I'm pretty sure self-checkout isn't the thing you should be getting your panties in a twist about.

I'm serious.

Self-checkout is going to be the hill you die on? Really? I see people get seriously worked up about the self-checkouts and it makes me wonder...how worked up are they getting about people being abused? Or about people being forced into "modern day slavery"? Or the declining state of the educational system in America? Or the environment? As I said above, I could go on and on but I'm really hoping you are picking up what I'm laying down.

In the big picture is self-checkout the thing to rally against? It's a microscopic presence in your life so why are you expending so much energy on it rather on something that is worth getting worked up about? It is a brain boggler.

So what IS worth getting worked up about? Well I've already mentioned a few things, some of them more than once. And we all have a part. A part, not the whole. It doesn't rest on just our shoulders, it's a shared thing. Think, "What can I do in my own world and circles of influence to create positive change?" Do not think, "What can I do to change every single person on the planet?" One way of being worked up will bring about change, the other way will not - it will just anger and alienate people.

Anger about self-checkouts just anger and alienate people - trust me on this. And it's because in the big picture of life self-checkouts aren't worth an ounce of energy, they shouldn't even hold on a spot on anyone's list of "Things to be Worked Up About." If you are worked up about self-checkouts then you are living a tunnel-vision life. Expand your vision and really see what is worth putting energy toward.

Going to use the self-checkout? I double dare you.


*Don't just take my word for it Forbes and Zip Recruiter (among many others) have both written about it. I mean if you can't believe Forbes when it comes to business then who can you believe?! Are you going to find articles that say it is stealing jobs? Sure BUT for every one article that claims it is stealing jobs there are approximately three than support it not doing so.

Words Fail Me

I've lost something. Not my mind, although some days it feels like I am. It's my words. I've lost them and I can't find them. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of them and think they might be returning but then they disappear again. 

It's not the words about the weather and my favorite TV show that have been lost. Those are still present. It's the important words. The words that reveal who I am, what I'm thinking, my grief, my joy, my anger, even my indifference. 

Ask me how I am and you'll get an awkward moment of silence before I answer, "I'm fine." Except you and I both know I'm not being totally honest. Here's the thing - I'm not lying. I am fine. But words fail me to elaborate on the always lame "I'm fine" answer. Words fail me to answer in any other way than "I'm fine." I open my mouth and nothing comes out. I can't find any words beyond "I'm fine."  

I noticed this loss of words begin a few years ago. It started with a suppression I was experiencing at my then workplace. My voice - literally and figuratively - was increasingly being squashed and criticized.  In my personal life my voice was changing like one does in puberty - it was cracking and would raise and lower in pitch as I was settling into it. A couple of major events led me to speechlessness by March 2017. And I have yet to gain my speech back. 

Because I feel things - situations, injustices, conflicts - so deeply the words get buried underneath the feelings. There's so much I want to say about it all that I can't say anything at all. I can't find words to adequately express what I'm feeling and thinking and I find myself mute. The words I want to say these days are colored with anger, disgust, disbelief, confusion, judgement and to let loose those words colored with those emotions would be something I would regret. They would hurt people, alienate me from instead of endear me to others, they would not be the model of shalom I am committed to learning and practicing. 

One gift of my failed words is that of listening. Learning to listen is leading me down roads of understanding into people, cultures, faith expressions, genders, politics, and more. Listening has encouraged me to practice critical thinking. Listening has led me to be more like Jesus to people I interact with. 

So "I'm fine" until words return - words that will build up not tear down, words that will introduce life, words that convey the beauty of shalom, words that will be evidence toward the listening I have tried to do. Until then.

Ross Geller Tells Me What To Do

There's this later episode of Friends in which Chandler and Monica are getting married. (#sorrynotsorry for that spoiler alert - what do you mean you haven't watched Friends yet?!) Chandler has disappeared due to cold feet and Ross is trying to find him. When Ross finally finds Chandler he talks him off the ledge by getting him to do just one thing at a time with no thought for what comes after. He gets him to take a shower while not thinking about what comes later. Then he gets him to put clothes on while not thinking about what comes later. And so it goes until Chandler finds himself watching Monica walk down the aisle to meet and marry him. By then he's calmed down because he faced his fear one small step at a time, not all at once.

The other day I heard Ross tell me to just get out of bed, nothing more. See, I didn't want to. I physically was able but mentally and emotionally I was stuck in bed, unable to face the day. I thought about that episode and Ross encouraging Chandler to take those small steps so I got out of bed. I had an appointment that day and I felt very unwilling to go. I wanted to pick up the phone and cancel. But Ross told me to take a shower while not thinking about what comes later. And then he told me to put on clothes because I couldn't go around naked. So I did. And so it went until I found myself in the parking lot where the appointment was.

Call it coincidence, call it whatever you want but in my appointment - the one I was able to get to with the help of Ross - my doctor told me to take small steps and keep my eyes on the task in front of me, not the door I needed to walk out of an hour from then. Basically, she was telling me what Ross had just that morning.

This inability to even get out of bed isn't fear based for me, it's my continuing struggle with depression. It's when my eyes open for the first time each morning and my first thought is, "I.can't. I.just.can't." But then nature prompts me to get up. Literally. So I'm up, what now? Ross, and my doctor and my therapist (oh I didn't mention she also chimed in on this?), suggests I stay up and brush my teeth or shower, something that keeps me up for just a few more minutes. Those few minutes tumble on each other like a domino train that has been started and before I know it I am in my car and adulting. And the depression doesn't win that time because as I take each step and progress toward adulting for the day I discover that maybe, just maybe, I can. I can interact with people. I can stay out of my bed. For me the saying, "Keep my eye on the prize"  means each small step I take every day is a prize. My depression paralyzes me because I try to look at the whole day all at once, Ross tells me to do the next thing while not thinking about what comes later.

There's another episode of Friends where Phoebe thinks a cat is her mom reincarnated. But the friends find the cat's real owner and Ross is the only one saying Phoebe has to be told. The friends reluctantly agree and Rachel exclaims, "I hate it when Ross is right!" I imagine depression must say the same thing when I choose to listen to Ross over it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go - Ross just told me it's time to take another step toward winning over depression today.

Stirring the Pot

Recently I shared my tips on how to get fired from your job. I know. Usually the tips are centered around how to not get fired but I like to do a twist on things from time to time. *grin*

One of the reasons I was fired was because I was perceived to be a pot-stirrer. You've heard about those kinds of people before right? They are divisive, toxic, trouble makers, unhappy - and they make the people and organizations they are in and around unhealthy.

Or do they?

Certainly there are pot-stirrers that are divisive, toxic, trouble makers, and without a doubt unhappy. But not all pot-stirrers are. In fact, the kind of pot-stirrers I'm talking about and was accused of being are a necessary component to the health of an organization and personal growth. So let's talk about that.

Before I got fired and during the time that the weak leadership at my organization was "building their case" against me I found myself stirring a pot one evening as I was assembling dinner. The directions on the recipe I was following said, "Stir constantly to avoid burning." Good advice. If I didn't get the ingredients moving around they were going to stick to the bottom of the pot, char, and become inedible. I had to keep stirring the pot to keep things moving along and so that all the ingredients could blend together to make the dish I wanted.

One could say, "Beth. C'mon. Stirring the pot for cooking and being a pot-stirrer in life are two very different things."

But are they?

When people and organizations don't allow themselves to be stirred, complacency happens. And complacency in life is strikingly similar to allowing ingredients to settle at the bottom of a pot, char, and become stuck there - not very palatable. People and organizations who are complacent are not relevant to very many. And being irrelevant is equal to being inedible.

When I stir the pot of ingredients I am ensuring that all the ingredients combine together and nothing is left out of the mix. I've made the mistake before of not stirring like the recipe instructs and have found, sitting in the bottom of the pan, one of the ingredients mostly intact and not incorporated. And you can taste the lack of it when eating the dish. Had it been incorporated by the stirring I slacked off on then the dish would have had a lot more flavor and depth.

Now take that idea out of the kitchen and into life.

An organization is made up of many different kinds of people who bring with them many different life experiences, talents, abilities, education, etc. Combine them all together and don't slack off on the stirring. When the pot is stirred they all combine to create a palatable experience. When the pot isn't allowed to be stirred some of those people are going to sink to the bottom and get burned. This charring will affect the whole pot. Oddly enough, it will be the people who didn't get stirred in who get blamed for the ruination of the experience. But it wasn't their job to bring the ingredients together. They asked to be stirred in, they even tried to get themselves stirred in but the person holding the spoon didn't believe in the necessity of variety. So the experience is now bitter for one or several people because they were left to get burned. The experience is flat, just one note that is bland.

Here's the thing about being a pot-stirrer in life; oftentimes the so-called pot-stirrer is unaware they are the pot-stirrer. Why? Because *all* they are is one ingredient, they aren't in charge of stirring. All they are doing is being themselves and living life as they are gifted to. The one holding the spoon is threatened by this because they have to be in charge and who does this person think they are to come in and suggest a different approach, way, mindset, practice? The one holding the spoon is in charge and the people listen to them, period. Except because they refuse to include everyone, the pot is not coming together and that's when toxicity happens.

The burned get labeled as pot-stirrers because they tried to incorporate themselves into the mix and the person holding the spoon doesn't have a tolerance for anything other than themselves. So either all the people need to be like the person holding the spoon or they get labeled as a bad fit. That person - that organization - is missing out on providing their employees and clients with a rich and deep experience because they refuse to incorporate all the people with their different and unique offerings.

Many, many years ago I made a recipe that we loved. But it called for an ingredient that I had 1) never heard of before and 2) dismissed (mostly because of reason #1). But one day I decided to try it. I purchased this spice I had never heard of and stirred it in. HOLY DELICIOUSNESS BATMAN! It took this dish we loved and elevated it to a whole new level of yummy. And I realized we had missing out on the super yummy and settling simply because I was unwilling to stir something in that was unfamiliar to me.

Are you the unfamiliar to a person or organization? Get in there, incorporate! Fingers crossed you have better success at getting mixed in than I did. *wink* I'm cheering for you - I believe what you have to offer can and will take people and organizations to new, amazing levels if they will take a chance and stir you in to the mix.

Are you the person who is holding the spoon and reluctant to stir because you want to be ingredient number one? GET OVER YOURSELF. You are wasting the offerings and talents of people in your life and organization because of your pride. You are missing out, your organization's employees and clients are missing out on a deeper and richer experience because of your silly pride.

Start stirring, you will not regret it. 

I got fired. Here's how you can too!

A year ago today I was fired. If you know me you are thinking, "Whaaaaaaaaaaaaa? How is that even possible?" Right. It shouldn't have been possible but it was for the organization I was working for. I've been fairly quiet about this organization and my firing the past year.

Until now.

To mark the one year anniversary of being fired from this organization that is led by hypocritical, ungodly, and weak patriarchs I thought I would share a few tips on how you too can be fired.

Tip #1:
Be a woman.

Tip #2:
Be someone who has their own opinions, methods, and beliefs about all manner of things and thinks that there is room at the table to present them for consideration.

Tip #3:
Be someone who takes the organization's mission statement at face value and attempts to practice it.

Tip #4:
Be kind.

Tip #5:
Be concerned about the overall health and well-being of the the employees of the organization which impacts the overall health and well-being of the organization itself.

Tip #6:
Don't bow down and worship at the feet of the insecure leadership.

Tip #7:
Don't enable the women in the organization who are kissing ass and compromising themselves to win favor with the weak patriarchs.

Tip #8:
Don't fawn over and stroke the egos of those who are underqualified to do their jobs.

Tip #9:
Be a woman who doesn't think that the man is always right, has all the answers, and is the best at everything he does.

Tip #10:
Don't pretend like the organization's leadership and Human Resources care about the employees and do what's best for them.

One might think I am being sarcastic with my tips, for this particular organization one would be mistaken. The above tips are literally why I got fired for "not being a cultural fit." I didn't get fired for anything that had to do with my actual job and the work I did - in fact, I was commended after I got fired for the excellent work I did and the way it helped the department I was working in.

I got fired from this faith-based, non-profit organization for wanting and pursuing health and well-being for the employees and therefore the organization.

I got fired from this faith-based, non-profit organization for taking at face value the mission statement based on Hebrews 10:24, "Let us encourage one another to love and good deeds." The COO didn't approve of or like how I took that verse to heart and tried to live it out at the workplace. It made him uncomfortable because he felt it was highlighting his deficiencies, his lack of compassion, and his inability to genuinely connect with people. Guess what? It did do that but that wasn't my motivation or even my purpose. He made it all about him when it was never about him.

I got fired from this faith-based, non-profit organization for being a woman that refused to kiss the feet of the men and stroke their egos.

I got fired from this faith-based, non-profit organization for not allowing bad behaviors to go unchecked but bringing them forward into the light as necessary and appropriate.

I got fired from this faith-based, non-profit organization because my boss - a weak man - decided to kiss the ass of someone he doesn't even respect or like. He decided that he was too tired to continue to do right things and stand for right behaviors.

I got fired from this faith-based, non-profit organization because the Director of Human Resources - an insecure woman - would rather live her life suppressed and because I wasn't willing to do the same she fought to get me fired, along with her boss - the jackass COO.

They said I wasn't a "cultural fit." I replied, "You are right, I'm NOT a cultural fit with this organization." Left hanging in the air behind my reply was the reasons I'm not - see above for those reasons. They knew what they were doing. They knew that I was making them uncomfortable and insecure. We humans don't like to be uncomfortable and insecure, we are so f*&%ing prideful about ourselves. So we seek to eliminate people and things that poke at us and cause us to be unsettled. So they eliminated me.

Except "I" won't go away. Life doesn't let off us the hook that easily. Someone else will come into those people's lives, that organization, and poke at them some more. Someone else will come along and continue what I unknowingly started. By being myself I stirred the pot of unease within the hearts of men and women in that place and someone else will come along and continue to stir the pot. Of course I don't know who that person is - I don't know their gender, I don't know when they will come along but someone will.

So if you want to get fired - specifically from a faith-based, non-profit - follow my tips above. If you don't get fired for following my tips above but instead are welcomed and embraced for them then I have two questions:

1) Where do you work?
2) Are they hiring?

Spouse? I do not think spouse means what you think it means.

I was on Pinterest the other day and saw the below list. My attention was caught so I started reading through the list. I've been married for almost 23 years and getting a few new-to-me ideas is never a bad idea. But by the time I got to number 5 my attention was caught for a different reason. I didn't want to overreact so I finished skimming the list before I allowed what caught my attention to bloom into a full "What in the world?" 

Do yourself a favor, skim the list yourself and then meet me below. I'd love to know if you noticed the same thing I did. 

The title of the list uses the word "spouse." I looked it up to make sure I was clear on the definition of the word "spouse." For the record I was right - it means husband or wife. 

Okay so now that I know the definition of spouse is husband or wife, and you do too, read that list again. 

Do you see what I see? 

One pronoun is prominent and one is not to be found. So is the list for spouses or is the list actually for wives about husbands? 

Why is this spouses list for wives only? Why is the only pronoun used male when a spouse is male or female? 

Historically women are more consistent in saying "I love you" in numerous and creative ways so this list rubs me the wrong way. In fact, this list is an enabler of the idea out there in culture that women are responsible for relationships. 

Then I saw this and about lost my shiz...

Does USPS know that women are out there - deployed - and perhaps their male significant other should send them a care package? The ad literally says "wives" and totally disregards the fact that many wives are deployed while the husbands are at home with the children.

Now this one gets what spouse means, note the use of both pronouns - her and him. I'd also like to point out the ones that don't use a pronoun which means either him or her can do it! 

74 Simple Things You Can Do to Brighten Your Spouse’s Day

This is the year 2018 - are "we" still so ignorant about what spouse actually means? And are "we" still so blind to the equality a relationship requires - each person contributing to the health and well-being of the partnership. Yes, partnership. And yes, each person in the relationship flirting, washing the other's car, sending a care package across the ocean, driving for the other when they are tired, letting them choose the TV show to watch/restaurant to eat at/candle scent to light, etc. C'mon. We can do better than spouse meaning him. We can do better and we need to do better. 

The Care & Feeding of Someone Struggling with Depression

I've written quite a bit on my personal journey with depression. I've shared my thoughts on what it is like to be a person with depression. I've decided perhaps it is time to write some thoughts down for those who aren't depressed but who have someone in their life struggling with depression. Truly there is nothing new under the sun as there are many articles and resources out there about "what not to say to someone with depression" etc. But those articles weren't written by me, someone you *know* personally, and sometimes knowing the person who is saying it makes all the difference.

Do you know someone struggling with depression? 

Have you wondered why they go some days without practicing hygiene or why they don't respond to a text or private message you have sent them? 

Have you wondered why they seem to have enough time to binge watch Netflix but don't have time to meet you for a drink? 

Have you felt like they aren't being truthful about how they are doing when the comments they make on people's Facebook posts seem normal and upbeat but they say they are depressed? 

Have you sent them a message, you have seen they read it but didn't respond and thought they were just being rude or blowing you off? 

If any of those questions resonated with you or you have asked similar ones about someone in your life then you are in a relationship with someone who is most likely struggling with depression - and they may or may not even know it themselves.

Everything each of us does takes a certain amount of energy. For some people the more interaction they have with people the more energized they become - they are called extroverts because of how they are energized. Other people, like myself, are drained by interaction with people - especially people we don't know at all or well. People who are drained by interaction with others get their energy replenished by spending time alone to recharge - these are introverts. This has nothing to do with depression because regardless of how you get energy you can be gripped by depression, but I bring up energy because it's important to the care & feeding of those with depression. 

A person who is depressed has low to zero energy for pretty much anything - even if they normally have high energy when in a healthy emotional state. For example, some days taking a shower requires digging deep into energy reserves. Some days energy is easier to come by but depending on how many people I have to interact with depends on how quickly that energy is used up. On lower energy days I don't even have the ability to respond to texts or private messages on Facebook, and I am definitely not answering the phone if it rings. Those who have never experienced true depression (which is very different than being sad) find it very hard to understand these low-to-no energy levels that keep those who are depressed from being unable to even respond to a text. It takes no real energy to respond to a text right? Wrong. Wrong if you are a depressed person. Any kind of interaction, virtual or in person, takes energy that sometimes we just don't have. When I'm having one of those days and I see texts come through I sigh - deeply. Because I know I just can't. I can't find the energy to try and find the words to respond or try to find the enthusiasm to respond or to answer the question that perhaps is being asked. And it doesn't matter who it is - my parents, my husband, my three's and twelve's, my children, etc - if I don't have the energy I don't have the energy, period. And to try and conjure it makes me even more exhausted. People who don't have depression covering them can work up the energy to do what needs to be done, people with depression can but it comes at a great cost, at least in my life it does. 

My most recent experiences with depression came at a time when I didn't have the luxury to stay in bed with the covers over my head like I wanted. I had to get up each day, go to work, interact with co-workers - some of which were triggers for my depression, do my job....basically I had to work up enough energy to get through an 8 hour work day and each night I sat in my recliner, unable to talk to my family or do stuff around the house or socialize with friends. The next day I had to do it all over again. Weekends I never strayed far from my recliner and I holed up trying to fill up my energy reserves for the work week ahead of me. Could people at work tell I was depressed? For the most part, no. I worked it and faked it until I made it each day but it was personally expensive. I had nothing left for family and friends. It was exhausting. 

So, how can you participate in the care & feeding of someone in your life who is gripped by depression? Here's a few ideas based on my experiences:

1) Understand they hate this depression and what it does to them more than anyone else does. It's not their choice to be this way in this season or for the entirety of their life. 

2) Be patient with them - give them the space they need, they will communicate and interact with you when they are able. 

3) Find ways to let them know you are not going anywhere, that when they are ready you are there for them. I have friends who find ways to keep engaged with me but it's no pressure for me - like talking about TV shows, books, and things that are easy to talk about but don't feel like too much effort is involved. 

4) Get on Voxer! You can leave each other messages and it's a no pressure way for them to respond back to you when they have some energy. I have friends who pop on to Voxer just to say they are thinking of me and wanted me to hear their voice. When I have the capability I can leave them a message back. It makes us feel connected especially in the times when I am radio silent. 

5) Don't assume that because they are commenting on Facebook posts or other social media platforms that they are not struggling with their depression. Social media has become a way for shy people, depressed people, socially awkward people, etc to be social without leaving their comfort zone. They can appear to be extroverted or happy or socially adept but not actually be. Social media is a big mask that we all can use - and probably do use to some extent - to hide behind. 

6) When your person engages be grateful for their interaction and engage back! Don't feel all snippy about the lack of interaction they have had with you and everyone else. Just be grateful. 

7) Don't take their radio silence personally. Don't make their inability to engage about you, it's not personal. 

8) Don't be passive aggressive and make comments or behave in ways that try to induce them to guilt that they aren't behaving the way you want them to. Remember - they hate this about themselves more than anyone else does. 

Being in a relationship with someone who is depressed takes patience, a lot of it. In all my seasons, content or depressed, I try to make sure the people in my life know I appreciate them - I appreciate their willingness to be patient with me when I go radio silent, I appreciate their enthusiasm for my ability to be present and engaged when I can be, I appreciate them not pressing me to conjure up energy I don't have, and I appreciate them still calling me friend even when I'm not a very good one. Some people in my life aren't able to have patience with me, we've drifted apart. That's okay, I get it. The ones sticking it out with me are worth more than gold, I know it can be hard to be in a relationship with me. 

If you have experience with this, either as the depressed person or as the person who loves someone struggling with depression, what are your tips for the care & feeding of depressed people? 

GPS Fail

This past summer my family and I were driving through Germany. We were extremely grateful for the English speaking GPS that came with the vehicle. She was a bit bossy but since we were in a foreign country we let her have her way. :) During one trip we followed her directions precisely. Precisely to a dead end. The road ran out, literally! Huh. So that's what those signs must have meant a half mile back...*grin* We turned around and made our way back to the road we knew was the right one. She told us to stop as soon as we could and turn around. We did, just once, thinking she had re-routed and was sending us a different way. Nope. We arrived back at that dead end. Driving down the wrong road, which honestly was more of a dirt path, we all had the feeling it was wrong but she kept telling us to keep on so we did. Turns out we were right and she was wrong. She didn't know what we had discovered, there were signs telling us what she could not. So we had to take matters into our own hands - in Germany where we couldn't find English speaking people. So we decided to get back on the main road and force our GPS to re-route. She didn't like it. She kept telling us to stop and turn around. We kept telling her no. We were lost and had to find ourselves, the GPS could either help us out or stay quiet.

A few years ago I made a job change. I was at a place I loved, a place that I fit in with, doing work that was fun. I was under-utilized but otherwise it was one of the best places I had found myself in in a very long time. But I had to make a change for my family. So I went looking. And something came up, so quickly and unexpectedly that it felt a little whirlwind-ish. It was, I still believe, an answer to many people's prayers. I made the move reluctantly but with determination. On my third day at my new place of employment, my former workplace called and offered me what I needed for my family. Conundrum. My internal GPS of this new workplace was telling me I was headed for a dead end but I had made a commitment. I had given my former workplace some opportunities and none of them had worked out until now. So even though I had the expectation of a dead end, I had the hope of a different outcome. I had to, painfully, turn down my former workplace and stay at the new place. It still hurts my heart to think about it. 

For a couple of years the hope of a better outcome than I expected at this place of employment was stronger than the knowledge that this wasn't going to end well. But then things started to change. Signs started appearing along the road. The reality of who I was became too much for certain people within the organization. They liked the idea of me. When interviewed they liked that I practiced biblical conflict resolution, that I was a lay counselor and so therefore a safe person to talk to, that I was interested in the morale of a workplace, and other things. But two years in and they figured out that the idea of me was also reality and they didn't like the reality. Biblical conflict resolution is uncomfortable and it made some people very squirmy. Having someone in the office that was a lay counselor and safe place became a threat to some of the more insecure people. My ways of encouragement and morale boosting seemed immature to one and threatened a small handful of others. 

For the last two years of my time at this organization I was called a gossip, I was named by name to new employees as someone that wasn't trustworthy, I was isolated from the majority of the office by being a person nobody was allowed to speak to or be seen with, when conflict came up I became the target of it, and I was told that I was no longer allowed to do any sort of encouraging or morale boosting with the employees. One of the org's core values is Hebrews 10:24 but I was specifically told that I was not allowed to live that value out in the office. If you know me then you know already what happened. I got lost. This org was giving me bad, and wrong, directions and I was headed for a dead end in the middle of nowhere where nobody else was speaking my language. My gut knew it, but for several reasons I continued following the directions. There's always the spark of hope that things will right themselves and turn around. 

A few years ago I was following Google maps to a destination I had plugged into the GPS. And I followed Google's directions but all the while with the feeling that something didn't seem quite right. I was in the right area and even on some of the right roads but the directions to turn left or right felt wrong. My gut instinct, even though I didn't know where this place was exactly, was telling me Google was wrong and I was more right. And when I reached the destination, according to Google, I was on a dark street in some part of my city I didn't even know existed. I was definitely not in the right place. My gut knew it but I followed Google anyway. I was lost and needing to figure out how to get to a familiar place. I made a call to a friend, "Help! Find me!"

If you drive around lost for too long you run the risk of depleting your energy supply. In a vehicle's case that would be fuel. In a heart's case that would be life. The longer I drove on the road this org had me on, the weaker I became. I gained A LOT of weight. A LOT. I quit taking care of myself externally - i.e. I quit wearing any makeup, I quit fixing my hair, I quit dressing the way I knew I should be for the position I was in. I forgot how to search out sugar to make lemonade.  I forgot how to be and do a lot of things. It was all there inside me still, but every time I tried to express it I was reprimanded. I became fearful of people again. ICK. I was losing all the ground I had gained in the years prior. I hated the way I was feeling. I hated that the people who had met me during my time at this org didn't know who I really was, they only knew the version of me that was trying to survive this dead end road I was on. (They were the ones who made a choice to defy the "suggestion" that they not interact with me at all.) I made a comment to a newer friend one day that I hated she didn't really know me. She replied back, "Beth, I see you. I do." I cried. I didn't see how anyone could see who I really was with all this toxic sludge covering me up. A three in my life kept making observations that I had gone missing, she wasn't wrong. I was missing. All the life-giving parts of me had been suppressed despite the struggle to keep them alive. Driving on the roads of this org had sucked the life out of me. I was depleted, I was MIA in my own life.  

But I had made a promise. My GPS at the organization, in other words - my boss, asked me to make a promise to stay on the road the org had built and after discussions with some important people I made the promise, even though I had put my blinker on and was ready to exit. Conundrum. It felt like the third day at this new place when the former called and offered me what I wanted and needed. It was painful to make the promise but it wasn't just about me, I had a family I needed to consider as well. Making that promise was the exit sign that I drove right on by. Yet as I drove by it, I knew the dead end was up ahead and the person acting as my GPS didn’t know the signs were there so he just told me to keep moving forward. So I kept moving forward, the signs increasing but the GPS insisting he was leading me the right way. I was hoping to get back to a main road and go it on my own but the dead end was getting closer and closer. And then we arrived. I had fulfilled my part of the promise to the GPS, but the GPS let me down. He didn’t listen to me when I told him about the signs. The choice to re-route was available. The GPS could have re-routed but he didn’t. He insisted I keep going along the roads the org had made. The roads of this organization are cracked, there are deep potholes littering it, the speed bumps are not rounded but pointed at the top and cars get hung up there, the repair jobs are very temporary – the decay and the damage reappearing almost as quickly as the repair attempt happens. These are not safe roads to travel. And those who do travel them feel the damage quickly. In the end it’s a very costly trip to take and the only place it ends up is a dead end.

So here I am, lost and needing to figure out how to get to a familiar place. I’ve made some calls to some friends, "Help! Find me!" but just like in Germany this past summer, I’ve got to find myself as well. I can’t rely on others to get me back to the main road, I’ve got to make my way there with friends holding the right signs along the way. 

Selah

I did it. Nobody thought I would. I guess that's fair, maybe I didn't think I would. But I did it. Inked. I put ink on my skin permanently. Not just any ink of course. Ink that means something, ink that when I look at it or when my peripheral catches it I am reminded. On one wrist I inked the Hebrew word shalom, you've listened to my thoughts about shalom before. (For a refresher or if you haven't you can click here.) On the other wrist, the right one, the Hebrew word selah. Say what? Selah.

If you've been around me enough you've heard me say the word. I'll use it to respond to a particularly moving or profound statement/insight. I'll use it when reacting to an event that is touching or special. And it kind of makes people hesitate. "What did she say? Selah? Where have I seen that word before?" Let me help you out. The Book of Psalm. You've seen it if you have read in the Book of Psalm. It shows up right away in Psalm 3 and is frequently used throughout the book. What does it mean? What is its purpose? Why is it used? All three of those answers are fortunately found in one answer, the answer of selah.

Selah* is a mystery word. Its origins are unknown so they have been guessed at and its meaning is unknown so it has been guessed at. As with many words/phrases it is possible it came into being to mean one thing but has evolved into what the modern meaning is for today. And the modern meaning is my focus, my intent, and the very reason why I permanently inked my skin with the characters, jots, and tittles that make up the Hebrew word selah.

The word caught my attention years ago. It's easy to zoom past. It's generally italicized and off to the side in perhaps smaller font. One might dismiss it, move past it with the thought, "Oh that's just some Hebrew thing that doesn't apply to me today, now, at all." One might be wrong. If it's there at least give it some attention to find out its purpose. When you write something you don't include a word for no reason do you? So what's up with this word? In the Amplified Version of the Bible, which is one of my favorite versions because it expounds on the words and gives them depth that our english language doesn't possess, the word selah is expanded to mean this: pause and think on that. In other words, stop for a moment - don't rush past what was just said - reflect on what was just said about God or what God himself just said - how does what was just said apply to your own life - pause for just a moment on what you just read/heard and consider it.

We rush. And if it's something we have heard or read before we rush even quicker through the passage like it's a checklist and we just need to mark it off so we can move on. We are uncomfortable with taking the time we might need, that the passage might need, that the moment might need, to find understanding and reflect. But really, what's our rush? Do we have a deadline? The fact is we don't have any deadlines but our reality has somehow convinced us that we do. So we rush through, missing the jots and tittles of meaning, missing the richness of the word, missing the moment we could have had.

And so I did it. I placed a permanent reminder, on my dominant (and therefore very busy, always rushing) side. A reminder to pause. A reminder to slow down. A reminder to stop rushing when there's no real rush. A reminder to not miss the jots and tittles of moments with people, with events, with God himself. A reminder to consider before I go forward with either action or word.

A reminder, forever, to build my life around selah combined with shalom.


*For wikipedia's background on selah click here.

The Freedom in Unpacking

We've been talking about baggage recently. Not the kind of baggage you can see but the kind that is felt. It can be, and it is, felt in everyday interactions with other people or in how a situation is handled and approached.  And we have this unspoken, maybe even unacknowledged, expectation for other people to carry our baggage for us. We press them into service as a personal sherpa. And that's not anyone's job in life - to be the personal sherpa for another's emotional baggage.

Galatians 6:2 talks about carrying the burdens of life for one another. And I hate to break it to *you* but carrying doesn't mean what you might want it to mean. It doesn't mean that we enslave another person to carry our stuff. It actually means that we come alongside someone, help them shoulder the burden in ways that help to lighten, heal, and sort it out. It doesn't mean that we assume responsibility for someone's baggage. It does mean that we can help them unpack it.

Packing is a lot different, at least for me, than unpacking. When I pack for a trip I fold things, roll things, consolidate as much as possible. If someone opened my bag to search it they would find a rather organized pack job. But coming home? That's a whole different story. Forget folding, rolling, and even consolidating. I shove it all in, haphazardly, and hope the bag doesn't pop open or get searched. It's a mess. Our baggage, the felt not the seen, is a lot like the coming home packing. We've taken hurts, anger, and other things and shoved them in without paying much attention to them.  As a result our baggage is close to bursting.

Have you ever had your luggage explode open on you? What a mess. What an embarrassment (hello undies)! What an inconvenience. Have you ever exploded? It's messy right? It can be embarrassing, if not right away then later on. And it can be very inconvenient depending on who is around when the explosion happens (job loss, relationship loss, etc). Instead of walking around wondering when my baggage is going to explode I prefer unpacking it as quickly as possible. It's true, I could repack it for the trip home in a more organized way - that's always the plan. But usually I get to that moment and I just don't want to think about that item any longer, I just want to pack it away. Cue the haphazard pack job.

Galatians 6:2, between the lines, means helping one another to unpack. That is what carry means in that particular scripture. But unpacking is a little weird right? I mean you've got your dirty undies and your stinky socks. I know I don't want anyone having to see, handle, or deal with those - I don't even want to myself! That's why we usually try to unpack our baggage alone. But sometimes we can't. We just can't. It's too messy, too hard, too hurtful, too much. Sometimes, actually I would argue all of the time, we need help unpacking our "felt" baggage. But it can't be just anyone. It has to be "the right one."

Ecclesiastes talks about seasons in chapter 3.  And just like there is a season for everything we experience in life there are also people for different times of our lives. I've had people be the "right one" for certain seasons and then suddenly they no longer are. God knows our needs and he knows what kind of people we need for each season and for each piece of baggage that needs to be unpacked. So the "right person" may be just right for popping open the bag for us. Or maybe they are going to help us sort the mess inside. Or, and this is the biggie, maybe they are going to help us handle the dirty and stinky and get it cleaned up.

And not every piece of baggage we carry is the same. Just like literal baggage comes in a variety of sizes, materials, and functions so does our "felt" baggage. Some of our emotional baggage is small and compact, easily unpacked and forgotten. But some of our emotional baggage is like what I call one piece of baggage I have. I call this suitcase the "Mack Daddy." This piece is HUGE. It was a gift from a dear couple and it weighs - empty - something like 12 pounds. It is massive. And while Mack Daddy is great for packing a lot of stuff, it is cumbersome. It's large (understatement). It can become that piece of luggage that everyone avoids. (Thank goodness for its wheels!) Sometimes our emotional baggage resembles Mack Daddy - cumbersome and the piece that everyone avoids. Sometimes we have a piece of emotional baggage that is so stuffed full it exceeds weight limits (of the heart and mind that is). So as varied as our "felt" baggage is so will be the variety of "right people" in our lives to help us unpack.

And the flip side is true. We will be someone's "right person" to help them unpack and our role won't always be the same - it will depend on the person who needs help unpacking and the size of their baggage. I've participated in all the roles - zipping it open for them, sort the mess out, and even the biggie. I've helped some handle and unpack the dirty and the stinky and get it cleaned up.

Everyone has baggage. Let's love each other enough to refuse to haul it around and offer to help unpack it instead.

Sherpa for hire?

That's it, *we* need to have a talk.

I am not *your* baggage claim and *you* are not mine. Listen, we all have our baggage - that's not the point. The point is I have my own to haul and you have yours. Don't make me get yours, I don't have the capacity, and I won't make you pick up mine. I can't be responsible for your baggage just like you can't be for mine. So quit trying to make me pick yours up, assume responsibility for it, and carry it yourself.

I'm adjusted to the way my baggage rolls, the way it feels when I handle it, and the quirks it might possess (wobbly wheels, sticky handle, stubborn zipper, etc). I can get around pretty smoothly with my baggage because I know it. But when someone else pushes their baggage on to me, expecting me to keep the same pace with this additional load that isn't mine, then I slow down. I get clumsy and unsure.

I recognize my baggage right away. It has a distinct marker on it so I don't have to guess at which is mine. But if I'm made to get someone else's baggage then I have to look at each tag as it glides by me on the carousel. It slows everyone down.

There's a reason why airlines ask if you have left your baggage alone at any point in time or if someone you don't know has asked you to carry theirs. Because airlines recognize that sometimes it isn't safe or wise to take on someone else's baggage.  If the airlines get that then surely *we* can too.

Lately I've been having some baggage issues. Some of my own baggage got opened and searched and some of my co-workers have been attempting to make me their personal sherpa's and haul their baggage around. Listen, I'm not here to haul your stuff around for you. I'm not here to carry it for you. I'm not here to be your proxy baggage handler. Do you see me foisting my baggage on to *you*? Yeah, I didn't think so.

Galatians 6:2 tells us to carry one another's burdens. That doesn't mean what *you* might want it to mean. A few years ago I was taking a big trip. I had never taken this kind of trip before and I was at a loss as to how to pack for it. One of my three's came over one day and packed me up. I helped some but she took the lead and showed me the way. She helped to carry my burden of baggage for a season but she didn't assume responsibility for it nor did she come along on my trip and act as my personal sherpa. I had to take care of my own baggage, I alone was responsible for it. She helped me to carry it, sort it out, and lighten up but she couldn't, and didn't, take it on as her own. That's the living out of Galatians 1:2. God doesn't mean for us to haul other's burdens - that's not what "carry" means in this case. He means for us to walk alongside, shoulder some of it in ways that help lighten, heal, and sort it out. If someone else carries my baggage for me I'm not going to learn what it is like to carry my own and sort it out for myself. We each have to learn how to handle our own baggage and not attempt to transfer ownership to someone else.

Listen, I can't, and shouldn't, haul your baggage around for you just as you shouldn't for me. But I am willing, like one of my three's did, to help you - not pack it up but rather unpack it. When it comes to the kind of baggage we are hauling around with us everyday we don't need any help packing that up thankyouverymuch, but am I right when I point out that when it comes to unpacking we could use a hand, well actually a heart, to help us?

Click here for "Part Two"

You mean, not everyone likes me?

This morning I heard of a game night that happened with a bunch of people I know. Most of them from work but some of them I knew from before my current workplace. I wasn't invited. Let's be honest, I probably wouldn't have gone anyway but it still stung a wee bit that I wasn't invited. I think I know why I wasn't, I can speculate with a pretty decent degree of accuracy why I wasn't. Still, it stung just a wee bit. And then I got over myself.  

Reality check.
I am not for everyone. My humor (or lack thereof), my personality (hello rare INFJ), my expression of faith (I observe Biblical Festivals and eat Kosher say whaaaa?), my work style (Type A which means I procrastinate until I can do it "perfect"), my laugh (I'm betting someone is annoyed by it), my tone of voice (same - someone is annoyed by it), my inflexibility when it comes to treatment of people (yeah, I'm so weird - I think grace should win), my inability to be brief (this post is shaping up to be a good example of that), my hermit tendencies (I go off the grid every weekend possible), my uncanny discernment abilities (makes people squirm), and so much more.
Reality checked.

I am not for everyone.
Oh guess what? Neither are you.
There's your reality check.

But there's good news.
Really good news actually.

You are for someone and I am too. There are people out there who "get" me and "get" you too. They understand, tolerate, maybe even like our idiosyncrasies. Not everyone has to like us and we don't have to like everyone. It's really okay. We are looking for quality over quantity anyway. Right? (Nod your head yes) Quality is always better than quantity and let's be honest, I'm not quality for some people and they aren't quality for me and it's okay. It's really okay.

One final thought.
I'm not for everyone and not everyone is for me BUT. But that doesn't mean I don't extend grace, kindness, compassion, and courtesy to everyone. Treating people with courtesy regardless of the relationship I have with them or they have with me is a non-negotiable.

It's a non- negotiable for me.
Oh guess what? For you too.

Radio Silence

{Continued Tales of Melancholia}

When the static begins I notice, as anyone does when static comes across the airwaves. Before fiddling with the dial to try and adjust past the static I wait to see if it corrects itself. Sometimes I know I'm just in a "dead spot" and in a matter of seconds the static will disappear and the frequency will be crystal clear again. But other times the static persists and so I start to fiddle with the dial - go up just a smidge, go down just a smidge. When my fiddling doesn't change the static I go radio silent. That static is annoying, right?

As it turns out static doesn't happen just on the airwaves, it happens in my life too. Sometimes the static that begins is a blip, a momentary "dead spot" that I know will disappear after a good night's sleep or a book (or two) read. But when the static doesn't clear up I start fiddling with my dials - adjust a smidge here and a smidge there. And when the fiddling doesn't change the static I go radio silent. My transmitter needs some maintenance.

The static comes without warning and I have yet to figure out its triggers. At first I thought it might be time of year/season related but then I went radio silent when I didn't expect. So the conclusion is it happens when it happens and I need to stayed tuned in to myself. The problem with the static that leads me to radio silence is I go silent with everyone in my life - without warning or notice I basically drop off the grid, I go underground, I retreat. I go silent.

Things have been static the past month or so. I've been fiddling with my dials but in the past few days I have noticed that I'm off the grid as much as I can be considering I work full time. Going radio silent shows up in different ways. I watch more TV, I read less, I have to talk myself out of bed and into life every day, I'm listless, I'm indifferent, I can't find energy to respond to the simplest of texts, I procrastinate, I quit engaging with my 3's and 12's, and more.

I know what dials to fiddle with. I may up my morale boosting activities, purposely schedule coffee and lunch with friends, take naps as often as I can, find a project at home or work to focus on, give myself some space to clear the static, I keep to my routine and commitments as much as possible. And sometimes that fiddling works and hardly anyone is the wiser to the static I just had to clear.

I go radio silent when the fiddling doesn't work and that static gets so annoying that I have to power down. I cannot gather myself enough to even send out an alert to people who should know I'm dropping off the grid. It just happens and I leave in the silence people who I love and care about and who love and care about me. And then one day, out of the blue (pun intended), I'm powered back on and no static is present. My transmitter is working again.

I can't explain these static filled and silent times. And they make me feel guilty for friends and family lost in my radio silence, perplexed at why the static didn't clear, literally exhausted physically and mentally. I wonder when I power back on who will still be hanging around, understanding that I had retreated not because of them but because of me, loving me in spite of my sudden and confusing silence. I don't blame people when they drift away - it's hard to be in close relationship with someone who goes radio silent with no warning. I'm always awed when people close in around me even though I'm not aware they have until the static clears and I'm back on the air.

I work for a radio station so I have learned a very small amount about the airwaves, transmitters, and such. When we have storms in our various markets and the signal goes to static or silent we hear about it from our listeners. I imagine over the years we have lost some listeners in some of our markets that seem to perpetually be static or silent but we also have retained a lot of listeners because they understand things happen and as wonderful as technology is, it is also subject to breakdown from time to time. We are grateful for the listeners who hang in there with us, through static and silence. I, too, am grateful in my own personal life for those who hang in there with me, through the static and silence.