Eastern or Western?

If you've read this blog much at all, you've probably already figured I'm not a proponent of corporal punishment.

To be even more clear, I am a Christian who rejects the notion that our modern spanking methods were lifted directly from Scripture.

About 8 years ago, I was introduced to the concept of gentle parenting. Some great resources I found are Gentle Christian Mothers, Arms of Love Family Fellowship, Hermana Linda's Why Not Train A Child?, Dulce de leche, and Dare to Disciple.

One of my favorite resources (and not just because he's a male voice that other men in the über-patriarchal environment of Fundamentalist Christianity wouldn't disregard on anatomy alone) is Samuel Martin's Bible Child. I am incredibly impressed with his scholarship and tremendously appreciate the work he has put into researching this topic in particular. Not only does he publish his findings on his blog, he also provides a free e-book to anyone willing to take an honest look at Biblical discipline.

In this recent post, Sam explores the prejudices we can have toward things that are unpretentious or rustic, often conflating simplistic with inferior. Also specific to my background, ideas originating in the East were viewed with suspicion, whereas theories with Western origins were often accepted without scrutiny. Eastern practices were "improved" by overlaying or combining them with Western variants.

One (relatively minor) example of this was one of my Christian school teachers discussing the Bible passage, "O how I love thy law! It is my meditation all the day." She described meditation as keeping something constantly in your mind, "not that Eastern idea of meditation where you sit cross-legged and say, 'Om.'"

Even then, my mind boggled. Wasn't the Bible written in the East? And wouldn't it stand to reason when David wrote of meditating, it would look like the Ancient Jewish practice of meditation rather than simply keeping something in mind?  (I'll grant that om is Hindi, and thus not likely something David or any other Bible patriarchs would've been familiar with!)

I've had to confront my ingrained prejudices and racism since I've begun honestly examining my beliefs. I've found there is much about the Bible that I was taught from a Western perspective that genuinely doesn't stand up to scrutiny.

It is always good to periodically re-evaluate our beliefs. Obviously, we learn as we grow and mature, so it makes sense that we come into deeper understanding of our values. We discard what we discover to be half-truths, and we explore our new grasp of wisdom.

We need not fear taking information from any source, so long as we carefully analyze it for Truth.

Irrelevant?

I know every stay at home parent can feel irrelevant when it comes to "the real world," whatever that means.

I was joking with my husband today that I needed to parody Relevant magazine and create an Irrelevant magazine for moms that contains random Tweet-like statements. Because I want to feel like I am relevant, even if it's with other people who share the same malaise I have.

I think part of my feelings result from a lot of life changes that piled up, one after the other. Some things I was in control of (getting married a dozen years ago), and some things, not so much (getting pregnant 3 months after the wedding and proceeding to have 5 kids in the next  10 years...yeah, I know what causes it).

I used to feel...useful, I guess. Like I made a difference in people's lives. Rewarded? Content? I can't seem to find the right words to describe it. Fulfilled, maybe.

And now, I feel like...a maid. A cook. A family therapist who has her own mental health issues but is so busy with clients she doesn't take time for herself and is about to go ape-sh*t crazy on the next person who slouches through the door & starts complaining about something as mundane as their partner not doing the dishes.

Um, that may have been too much.

My point is, I feel overwhelmed with the combined monotony of menial tasks and the repetition needed to teach little ones how to behave like humans. I'm sorely tempted to record myself saying things like, "Treat your siblings the way you want to be treated." "Use manners at the dinner table." "Don't hit the dog!" "Don't hit/bite/throw things at your brother/sister!" "GENTLE HANDS, already!" and play them on a loop all day. Heck, if I did that, the recording could do my parenting for me while I actually clean the house!

I long for connections with people. I want to help others, whether it be physical or emotional support. I crave the rapport of a give-and-take relationship where we all put something in and we al get something out.

I have training and experience and gifts and ideas...but I'm not in a position to use them outside the home right now. That probably contributes to my feeling irrelevant.

There are opportunities for me to use my gifts at church...sort of. I mean, sure, I could play piano or keyboard for services and sing solos or in a praise group...if I could afford to hire a babysitter to watch 5 kids during rehearsals & then bring them to church to maintain order while I'm doing music.

Or I could teach Children's Church...to a bunch of other little kids + my own when what I really need is adult interaction to help keep my brain from atrophy.

I feel stuck between a rock and a hard place. I want (need) to do something involving interaction with others, something that feeds their souls and mine.

I need to take care of my children, rather than pushing them off on others for the purposes of my own gratification or self-aggrandizement.

So I go to church, feeling like I'm wasting everyone's time when I wrangle kids, pass crayons or toy cars, shush childish voices with volume settings of loud and louder, and basically distract others while I miss whatever message I was supposed to hear from God. (Random aside: If God is a still, small voice, how does the Almighty expect parents of little ones to ever hear whatever message is trying to come through? Why can't God just shout over their noise like everybody else does?)

The rest of the time, I stay home, trying to teach little people how to pick up after themselves (over and over and over and freaking over), how to have patience (because I have it in spades, y'all - my middle name is Job, can't ya tell?), how to treat others kindly (because I'm never unkind when I yell in frustration), how to balance self-care and servanthood (because I have it nailed...and I never, EVER act like a martyr when I'm folding mountains of laundry and whine that I don't get time to do fun, stimulating, adult stuff with real people instead of these tiny, people-like leeches who, despite their adorableness, somehow suck all my time and energy from me).

Really taking a look at all of this, though, I am relevant. I am extremely relevant to my kids as their mom and to their dad as his wife. Perhaps, then, the issue is not so much being irrelevant as is it my own issues with needing approval.

Let me tell you, there is no approval from a child when you are enforcing "you make a mess, you clean it up." There is no approval from a child when you grab her just before she runs into the road to get something shiny. And there is no approval from anyone, ever, when you make vegan split-pea soup for dinner because that was all you could make with what was left in the pantry and crisper.

But being relevant? Yeah, I got that.

Choosing Relationships Over Being Right

I don't know about you, but I love the feeling of superiority that comes with being right. The "I'm better than you because I know more" high. The feeling of being worthy.

And because of that, I can focus too much on dichotomies: picking a side and debating it, even if it really doesn't matter.

I've had to work very hard at not being obnoxiously dogmatic when stating my opinion. I'm a naturally passionate person, and when you combine that with the black-and-white thinking I was raised with, you get some serious arrogance.

Time has mellowed me. I've learned that not everything is black and white. I've learned that issues often have many, many more than two sides. And I've changed my mind about a lot of things.

For instance, I've embraced panentheism. I support gay rights. I am politically pro-choice while remaining personally pro-life. I believe women can be pastors. I believe in an egalitarian view of marriage. I am leaning toward a universalist view of salvation. I practice gentle, grace-based discipline. I believe in theistic evolution. Any of which could get me labelled a heretic at my current church. Or a liberal. (They're the same, you know.)

So, why do I attend a church that on the surface is so at odds with my personal views?

I value people and relationships over being right.

The people at my church love me. They care about me as an individual much more than my stance on issues. And I love and respect them enough to let them believe and live their convictions without trying to change them.

When someone is saying something incredibly narrow-minded (like, "A real Christian can't believe in evolution."), yes, I will speak up. I say something like, "Just because someone has read the Bible and come to a different conclusion than you doesn't make them any less Christian. If they love God and love the Bible, they are your brother or sister in Christ, even if you differ in your beliefs in this area."

I most certainly have confronted those who I believe are damaging in their dogmatism, but not to prove I am right. Frankly, I'm not certain I am right about anything, anymore! I just point out that there are people and feelings involved, and denigrating someone else's convictions because they differ from your own (whether based on your interpretation of the Bible or simply personal opinion) is inappropriate, at best. At the very least, that attitude of "I'm right and they're wrong" is not humble; it's not exemplifying the spirit of being wise as serpents and harmless as doves.

Because life is not about being right. It's about how you relate to others - whether you agree with them, or not.

You're Beautiful...Just the Way You Are!

You're beautiful. Did you know that? Has anyone ever told you?

You are. I believe everyone is beautiful in their own way. What's absolutely contemptible is that at some point in your life, someone tried to hide or change the thing that is most beautiful about you.

I see it in my childhood. I talked too much and too loudly, I moved my hands too much when I talked, my voice was too sing-songy, too high-pitched. (I decided the last two on my own after hearing recordings of myself.) I was fat (really, I wasn't; I have a rounder body type, but my weight was in the normal range). I was ugly - that random kid at camp told me so when I was 8 years old.

I learned those lessons well. It wasn't until I was in high school, suffering with constant sore throats that I decided to pitch my voice higher. I sing in the soprano range, but I was speaking consistently near A below middle C. No wonder my throat was sore!

I spoke in a near-monotone unless I was reading; then I was super-expressive. Teachers loved having me read aloud. My kids still love hearing me read because I give each character its own voice - like radio theater! It's a lot of fun for me, too. But it wasn't until recently that I allowed myself to be expressive in my daily speech. In fact, when I first began speaking with my (natural) lilt, my oldest son thought I was making fun of him!

I did struggle with weight in 6th grade, but I'd lost 20 lbs. by 8th grade. I steadily gained weight throughout high school, but I was still within normal limits and wore a size 8. I now am a size 12, which isn't bad for a mom to 5 with no time for any kind of regular exercise. I am truly content with the shape my body is in at this stage of my life.

I did internalize the ugly comment. I wore glasses, and I felt plain. I look back now at pictures from my childhood, and gosh, I was so stinkin' CUTE! I mean, truly adorable.

I have had to work at feeling beautiful. I took negative comments and false beliefs and let them define me. Perhaps you've done the same?

No more! I am living the truth of who God made me to be. I am effervescent. I am gregarious. I am fun. I am a superb storyteller. And you know what? I'm pretty darn cute, with my purple glasses, trendy haircut, and warm, welcoming grin that invites others to come laugh with me!

I am beautiful.

What I want is for you to revel in the truth of who God made you to be, too. You may have been told you are too this or too that. You need to "tone it down" or "lighten up." NO! God made you perfectly you; to water down your personality  because someone else said to do so is a complete travesty.

I don't know if you're into affirmations, but if you are, I want you to write affirmations for those areas you were told to change and say them for a week. See if you notice a difference! Immerse yourself in the truth of who you were meant to be. Stop letting others' opinions define the choices you make in how you live your life.

Because you? You are beautiful. Just the way you are!

Finding My Voice

I apologize for the hiatus from blogging. (I'm sure you were waiting with bated breath for my next post, weren't you? No? OK, then.)

Frankly, I think I set myself up for failure with my grandiose idea of blogging about "finding God in my life and parenting."

Because God is omnipresent, so I don't have to really find the Almighty, y'know?

Because I am a random person and the thought of having to make my posts fit into specific parameters is kinda soul-sucking. (And boring. Which makes me rather unenthusiastic about writing.)

Because my life is crazy and fun and messy and sometimes hair-pullingly frustrating and trying to make it into something serious and/or inspirational is not working for me.

And finally, because I am still trying to find my voice. I still (in my mid-thirties) am discovering who I am. Maybe you can relate?

See, I grew up in Fundamentalist Christianity. I had no voice. As a child, I was ruled by adults who mostly loved me, but believed they were my "God-given authority" to dictate who I was to be.

I went to a Fundamentalist university, where (again) I was under the authority of "God-given leadership" who dictated how I dressed, where I went, and what I did.

I married and attended Fundamentalist churches. I was under the authority of my husband, and gracious, loving submission (code for subservience) was the litmus test of how good a wife I was.

Perhaps (un)surprisingly, I carry some baggage from that. I find it extremely difficult to speak up appropriately. I sound as if I'm making a suggestion, or else I come across as rude and demanding. Finding my voice will require the practice of actually using it.

Also, my writing style wasn't true to me. I was taught very well how to write in a semi-formal style, so others would take me and my words seriously. There is nothing wrong with writing that way, but this is a blog, for cryin' out loud.

My blog.

My words.

My voice.

I have gone from being voiceless to trying to imitate others' voices. I've learned I'm no prophetic Sarah Bessey, nor warrior-poet Preston Yancey, nor exhorter Rachel Held Evans, nor truth-proclaimer Elizabeth Esther.

I'm me. My purpose, my voice, my calling is different.

I empathize. I encourage.

I scatter sunshine like fairy dust to life's dark corners. I breathe hope into the gloomy dungeons of desolation. I buttress wavering faith and weave gold threads into the damaged tapestries of relationship.

How that works as a blog? I have no clue. None.

But that's ok. I promise -to you, my readers and to myself- that I will use my voice, follow my calling from now on.

I hope you enjoy reading the real me.


Sincerely,

Korrine Britton

Forgive us as we forgive others

God has forgiven me of much. I am a former child abuser. Never having been reported to CPS or never having a record of my crimes does not change the truth. Yes, I have sought help, and yes, I have changed by the grace of God. Although my past doesn't dictate my future, my present doesn't erase my past.

I realize not all parents are abuse survivors who struggle with breaking the cycle of abuse. But we all struggle with forgiveness from time to time.

It is so easy to get wrapped up in our injuries, the slights and disrespect toward us that we fail to see how we have injured and disrespected others.

Yes, we are all broken people. No, I am not excusing those who intentionally hurt or abuse others physically, emotionally, sexually, spiritually, or otherwise.

I think, though, that we often have an unrealistic view of forgiveness. Somehow, we've gotten the message that forgiveness not only erases a debt, it obligates us to continue to put ourselves in situations where we can again be hurt or taken advantage of. Such is not the case.

Forgiveness means forgiving a debt. When someone has wronged me and I choose to forgive, I am releasing that individual from the obligation I feel they owe me. I am choosing not to let resentment over that obligation build, and I am choosing to move on from the situation. I am NOT ignoring any damage that was done, and I am NOT going to put open myself to being wronged again, especially if that individual is in a pattern of abuse.

I have found that forgiveness, especially in cases where I have been deeply wronged, is a process. I have to continue to choose forgiveness instead of resentment. I must choose to erase the debt instead of expecting certain behaviors or responses from the offender.

I find, though, that I am quick to seek forgiveness and grace for myself, and quick to seek justice for others' wrongs against me.

The parable of the unforgiving servant in Matthew 18 always speaks to me.

Christ tells of a king who was taking account of his servants. One servant owed the king 10,000 talents. We have no idea whether the talents were gold or silver, but frankly, it doesn't matter. A talent is 57 pounds, which means in today's market, the servant owed $896,610,000 in gold or $16,530,000 in silver. For most of us, that is an unpayable debt!

The servant resorted to his only recourse: begging for mercy and promising that he would pay the debt over time. The gracious king forgave the servant's debt, no strings attached.

The relieved servant went out from the king's presence and chanced upon another servant. The second servant owed (from what I can deduce) something akin to $4,100 to the first servant. While still a lot of money to most of us, it is a debt that could realistically be repaid.

One would think the first servant, high off his recent experience with grace, would be anxious to share such mercy with his peer. Instead, he grabbed the other by the throat and demanded immediate restitution! When the second man couldn't immediately come up with the funds, the first had him thrown into debtor's prison.

The other servants saw this injustice and told their king. The king immediately called the first man to him and reminded him of the great debt that had been forgiven, and asked why the servant had not had compassion on his own debtor. Apparently, the king was so angry, he rescinded his forgiveness of the original debt and delivered the unforgiving servant to jail.

This is where the phrase "Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors" comes into play.

I think the take away from this parable is not just the injustice of being forgiven and refusing to forgive, but it's also how we forgive (or don't) affects how God forgives us.

That's a mind-bending concept.

One is tends to think that a gracious God forgives because He is gracious. We often forget that God is also a Being of justice.

Why, then, should I harshly punish my children for slights against me (back talk, failure to follow instructions, etc.) when God has forgiven me of so much more? Why do I expect those who have offended me to come groveling in humility while I too often wave my hand or roll my eyes when confronted with my own offenses?

"Father, forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors." Help me to remember the debt I owe You, and let it soften my responses to others.

Church Relationships

Relationships are messy. Church relationships can be even more so, because the spiritual and the personal, the heart, the mind, and the soul are all tangled together in one beautiful, chaotically broken, mended package.

How does one handle the minor offenses that are bound to happen when people from different backgrounds and opinions come together for corporate worship? Frankly, I think a lot of stuff that is just preference can be acknowledged and accommodated to a point. 

For instance, some people don’t like having the offering plate passed in church, but prefer an offering box to sit at the back of the sanctuary. Some people prefer the offering be received after the worship portion, but before the sermon, and some people prefer to give the monetary offering at the very end of the service.

None of these are right or wrong; they are simply preferences. Perhaps a church where several people have expressed their differing preferences could compromise by changing the offering format month to month. It’s fairly simple to do and it shows that the members’ thoughts and opinions are valued.

Perhaps new members have voiced frustration that the church seems to have a lot of “unwritten rules” they are not privy to, and have asked that expectations be clearly communicated. These particular “unwritten rules” are not oppressive or bad; they are simply part of the fabric of this particular church and are well-known to the long-time members of the congregation. 

A simple solution would be to write down the expectations so all members and attendees are aware of potential land mines that could cause unnecessary and unintended offense and frustration.

Or maybe, individuals have expressed concern that the church leadership seems to need exercise a lot of control over every aspect of church ministry. Perhaps communication from the senior choir director to the children’s choir director must be filtered through the pastor when it would be simpler for the two directors to speak directly to each other without a go-between.

Since a pastor is an over-seer, he could allow the music ministers to do their jobs and simply require them to submit final plans for the services to him. There is no real need for the pastor to be privy to every detail of the decision-making processes of the music ministers as they plan for choir rehearsals and church services. By reviewing the final plans, the pastor would still be involved and apprised, without being controlling.

But what if you’ve unintentionally offended someone? What if their communications with you in person are polite, but stilted? What if communication outside of church has completely ceased? What if you’ve asked for an explanation and apologized for any offense caused (and also asked to be told the offense), only to receive a terse, “Thank you for your communication.” or no response at all? What if you’ve sought reconciliation through the pastor, and the pastor (after having spoken to the other party) insists no one has issues with you and refuses to arrange or sit in on a meeting between you and the other person?

What then?

Ordinarily, I would advise continuing to go to church as usual. If the other party insists nothing is wrong and no offense has occurred, all you can do is take him at his word. Treat this individual the way you always have, with love and kindness and honesty. It could be this person has something else going on in his life that is effecting all his relationships. It is quite possible you have indeed done nothing to offend, and this individual is simply distancing himself for an unrelated reason.

But what if, after you’ve attempted reconciliation and have been told no one has cause for offense, you are invited by your church leadership to visit other churches?

What then?

I suggest accepting their invitation, hurt though you may be, and seek fellowship elsewhere. It is hard (nigh impossible) not to take such a situation personally, but do try to assume positive intent on the part of the church. Perhaps they believe that they are failing in ministering effectively to you and have concluded that a church with different resources may better meet your needs. Perhaps they see that you and they have different spiritual goals for the church and believe you would be more comfortable in a church that has goals more in line with your own. Perhaps the pastor believes what you intended as constructive criticism is a sign of your discontent or your asking “permission” to be released from membership. Perhaps the leadership believes your theology is divergent enough that in time, there could be a large, painful rift between you and they are seeking to prevent a potential church split.

It would be nice if the church leadership would assume positive intent on your part as well, but you are in control only of yourself and your decisions in this case. If the leadership sees you as either a liability or a threat when your intentions are merely to further the spread of the gospel of Jesus Christ through improvement of church ministry, there is, sadly, not much more you can do.

Remember, too, that “church” doesn’t have to look like what you are familiar with. God has promised “For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them.” Church can happen while folding laundry with your children and speaking of God’s goodness, or while having coffee with a friend for informal Bible study. Church can happen when conversing with a stranger who is a believer in the DMV line. Church is not confined to brick walls and stained glass, a routine of singing followed by four (alliterated) points and a poem, or the daily liturgy.

Church is meeting with God, and since God is omnipresent, church can (and should) happen everywhere. I advise finding a church (in whatever form) full of broken people who not only acknowledge their own brokenness, but delight in welcoming and worshipping with other broken people. After all, Christ shines brightest through the broken places.