I, as many, have been drawn to the shooting of twenty individuals--the killing of six. Others are well-equipped to address the motives, proper criminal adjudication, appropriate legislation to enact. I am responsible to communicate my beliefs to my Senators, and Representative.
Yet, for now, my attention is stuck on the brain injury of Gabrielle Giffords. As I understand it, the bullet went through the left hemisphere of her brain, and came out the other side. My interest is not academic. No, I have never been struck in the head by a bullet. No, I am not a doctor, nor do I play one on television.
My interest in Gabrielle Giffords' current condition, and the future impact of her brain injury, rests in my experience being born with cerebral palsy. My umbilical cord was wrapped around my neck five times at birth, which caused the oxygen supply to the left part of my brain to be cut off for several seconds. I remember those facts better than any fact entrusted to me in my 50 years of living.
Speech loss, and difficulty regurgitating what has been spoken to you, has been mentioned a number of times. Though feared at my birth--rarely, not always, but rarely--am I at a loss for words. Yet, when it comes to retaining what has been spoken to me, that is another story. I do not have a proclivity for the sciences, but, I do have a deep fascination with--appreciation of--the interworkings of the brain. They are truly miraculous.
I remember an imbalance of anticonvulsants left me coherent in my written communication, and understanding, yet, wholly without short-term memory for three weeks. I was an outsider to the human thought process. I recognized people I knew, I remembered their names.
Yet, spoken words, and instructions were beyond my grasp--they floated by as a kite on a March day. I was frightened that my short-term memory would never be returned to me, as if it was My Possession to keep.
My short-term memory never has been my best of friends. Yet, she and I are coming to an understanding. If I listen, she will tell me when she may no longer serve me. She and Intuition have formed a partnership. Both commit themselves to serve me--to serve the sharing of my person each day.
May Gabrielle Giffords be given the service of her brain--her speech, her short-term memory, all of the amazing gifts of her brain. May no pressure be added to her brain as to what her future may be--may allow. Only God knows what she--what any of us--may do a moment from now, much less a day, week, month, year or more from now. An accident, or an injury deceives us into thinking that anticipating the future is possible to accomplish.
May we live each day, not for what it might be, but, for what it is. May we find some appreciation of the "is" that is beneath what we hope it "might be," as if it were ours to dictate. May we be given the hope, and the strength to seek what "might be" without being embittered to what "is."
God grant me hope. God grant me strength. God grant me laughter. Thank God for the Written Word.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
The King's Speech...Stolen Dignity
The King's Speech, a portrayal of King George VI, invites us to listen to Dignity's words. This film opens the door to the childhood--the ascension of--a boy, who stutters, to the English monarchy.
Queen Mary and King George V became the parents to a boy they named, "Albert Frederick Arthur George." Royalty dictated that the honor and heritage of the House of Windsor be carried forward. Such a name fit the bill.
Yet, "Albert Frederick Arthur George" was a name not befitting of the young boy--of his person. The boy had a speech impediment--stuttering--that was the excuse used to pardon his family for their mistreatment.
As a child, his family wanted nothing to do with his stuttering. It was a shame for them to have to confess, if they were to embrace him fully, as any son--any child--deserves from their parents, their family, everyone who meets him deserves.
"They just did not understand. Forgive them." We say that of the House of Windsor. The King and Queen did not bequeath to their son the honor and heritage of the House of Windsor. Queen Mary and King George V bequeathed to their son Stolen Dignity.
Yet, let us not follow their lead.
Dignity? What is it? Dignified. What does it look like? What does it sound like?
Dignity is prerequisite for royalty. Dignified is a royal requirement.
Dignity speaks to us today, if we are listening to Her words.
Yes, forgive them, but, do not let forgiveness be an excuse for not pursuing the dignity worthy of everyone's life--each person's gifts regardless of class.
Immersed in his family's view of him, Albert Frederick Arthur George accepted their view as gospel. He was to be shunned, ridiculed at best. At worst...the worst is unspeakable, at least by him.
Royalty, aspiring royalty, was to radiate dignity. When Queen Mary and King George V conceived their son, dignity dictated his name to be, "Albert Frederick Arthur George." God forbid too short a name be given. Royalty dictates "proper" distance be maintained. His long name did just that.
Royalty demanded being steeped in the honor and dignity of the House of Windsor. Yet, the bequest of such a long name, regardless of any speech impediment, hinders the formation of intimate friendship.
Albert Frederick Arthur George's story offers that exaggeration we need to stop. Let us consider the sheer length of the name stood between him and anyone he was to meet.
As an adult, his wife sought help for her husband's stuttering. The speech coach, Lionel Logue, asked what his name was, to which the future king said, "Albert Frederick Arthur George."
That would not do. "Bertie" was the name given to him, a name that helped to free him of the weight of expectations. "Bertie" and Lionel grew to be trusted friends. Lionel helped Bertie to become the next King of England, who succeeded his father, King George V. Ironically, his ascension to the throne led to his being named, "King George VI."
With Lionel's help, trust, and friendship, Bertie surmounted any burden from the past that becoming King George VI may have placed on him.
Through Bertie, Albert Frederick Arthur George was transformed into King George VI.
Queen Mary and King George V became the parents to a boy they named, "Albert Frederick Arthur George." Royalty dictated that the honor and heritage of the House of Windsor be carried forward. Such a name fit the bill.
Yet, "Albert Frederick Arthur George" was a name not befitting of the young boy--of his person. The boy had a speech impediment--stuttering--that was the excuse used to pardon his family for their mistreatment.
As a child, his family wanted nothing to do with his stuttering. It was a shame for them to have to confess, if they were to embrace him fully, as any son--any child--deserves from their parents, their family, everyone who meets him deserves.
"They just did not understand. Forgive them." We say that of the House of Windsor. The King and Queen did not bequeath to their son the honor and heritage of the House of Windsor. Queen Mary and King George V bequeathed to their son Stolen Dignity.
Yet, let us not follow their lead.
Dignity? What is it? Dignified. What does it look like? What does it sound like?
Dignity is prerequisite for royalty. Dignified is a royal requirement.
Dignity speaks to us today, if we are listening to Her words.
Yes, forgive them, but, do not let forgiveness be an excuse for not pursuing the dignity worthy of everyone's life--each person's gifts regardless of class.
Immersed in his family's view of him, Albert Frederick Arthur George accepted their view as gospel. He was to be shunned, ridiculed at best. At worst...the worst is unspeakable, at least by him.
Royalty, aspiring royalty, was to radiate dignity. When Queen Mary and King George V conceived their son, dignity dictated his name to be, "Albert Frederick Arthur George." God forbid too short a name be given. Royalty dictates "proper" distance be maintained. His long name did just that.
Royalty demanded being steeped in the honor and dignity of the House of Windsor. Yet, the bequest of such a long name, regardless of any speech impediment, hinders the formation of intimate friendship.
Albert Frederick Arthur George's story offers that exaggeration we need to stop. Let us consider the sheer length of the name stood between him and anyone he was to meet.
As an adult, his wife sought help for her husband's stuttering. The speech coach, Lionel Logue, asked what his name was, to which the future king said, "Albert Frederick Arthur George."
That would not do. "Bertie" was the name given to him, a name that helped to free him of the weight of expectations. "Bertie" and Lionel grew to be trusted friends. Lionel helped Bertie to become the next King of England, who succeeded his father, King George V. Ironically, his ascension to the throne led to his being named, "King George VI."
With Lionel's help, trust, and friendship, Bertie surmounted any burden from the past that becoming King George VI may have placed on him.
Through Bertie, Albert Frederick Arthur George was transformed into King George VI.
Children of God....People of God
Christian maturity consists in “growing up” enough to become a child, dependent on and totally confident in God. To be “saved,” is to become a child.
Rev. Richard Gabuzda
http://onlineministries.creighton.edu/CollaborativeMinistry/123110.html
I have been addressed as a child of God in one parish, and as a person of God in another. I treasure both. I strive to be both--a child of God, and a person of God.
In 1987, I attended a parish led by an Irish priest--Father Phillip McArdle. Most of the parishioners were in their 70s, and 80s. I was 27. They were married. I was single. Other parishioners were well-established in their faith life. I was searching to establish mine. I was liberal in my thoughts--I had been unchurched structurally. Father McArdle was fairly traditional. All but three of Father McArdle's words are lost to my memory.
Yet, as clearly as I am here today, I can hear Father McArdle's invitation to wonderment, "Children of God." Father McArdle radiated a faith-filled joy that I treasure.
I was engaged intellectually in a campus ministry following my college graduation.
In 1998, I joined a vibrant faith community. The invitation Father Leo offers is, "People of God."
I pray I may be a person of God, who listens keenly, and responds lovingly. I pray I yet may be a Child of God, who is filled with Wonder, and not Jaded by Life.
Rev. Richard Gabuzda
http://onlineministries.creighton.edu/CollaborativeMinistry/123110.html
I have been addressed as a child of God in one parish, and as a person of God in another. I treasure both. I strive to be both--a child of God, and a person of God.
In 1987, I attended a parish led by an Irish priest--Father Phillip McArdle. Most of the parishioners were in their 70s, and 80s. I was 27. They were married. I was single. Other parishioners were well-established in their faith life. I was searching to establish mine. I was liberal in my thoughts--I had been unchurched structurally. Father McArdle was fairly traditional. All but three of Father McArdle's words are lost to my memory.
Yet, as clearly as I am here today, I can hear Father McArdle's invitation to wonderment, "Children of God." Father McArdle radiated a faith-filled joy that I treasure.
I was engaged intellectually in a campus ministry following my college graduation.
In 1998, I joined a vibrant faith community. The invitation Father Leo offers is, "People of God."
I pray I may be a person of God, who listens keenly, and responds lovingly. I pray I yet may be a Child of God, who is filled with Wonder, and not Jaded by Life.
Stolen Dignity
Seeing The King's Speech brought to the fore two words, stolen dignity. Albert Frederick George Arthur was raised with established expectations of what he should have, what he should offer to his life of royalty.
It is so easy to demand of ourselves, and of our daily lives, that we be "equipped with" very basic tools by which to live. When our demands are not met, we meet an unwelcome guest--Stolen Dignity. Many speak with a seemingly cavalier spirit, in which they declare--demand--that we respect all human life. In the same spirit, many declare the dignity of all human life.
If I am misreading the intent of those, who so speak, I welcome the correction. I leave to God to know the true intent of such speech and thought.
Yet, I am called to share a very different form of dignity that speaks with a whisper, if that. What do we expect--demand--that we be equipped with in our body, mind, and emotion, so that we may share our gifts each day? How do we respond when our daily demands are not met?
Stolen Dignity. The withholding of such "equipment," and the deaf ear we are given in response to our demands, teeter at the brink in "Stolen Dignity."
How do we reclaim Dignity? What "equipment" are we to seek? What transformation are we called to seek, so that we may be blessed with Dignity?
With Stolen Dignity, we are stripped of our crisp, white shirts, and ascot-adorned coats. But, what is the prayer that transforms Stolen Dignity? How does that transformation appear to our eyes, and resonate within us?
It is so easy to demand of ourselves, and of our daily lives, that we be "equipped with" very basic tools by which to live. When our demands are not met, we meet an unwelcome guest--Stolen Dignity. Many speak with a seemingly cavalier spirit, in which they declare--demand--that we respect all human life. In the same spirit, many declare the dignity of all human life.
If I am misreading the intent of those, who so speak, I welcome the correction. I leave to God to know the true intent of such speech and thought.
Yet, I am called to share a very different form of dignity that speaks with a whisper, if that. What do we expect--demand--that we be equipped with in our body, mind, and emotion, so that we may share our gifts each day? How do we respond when our daily demands are not met?
Stolen Dignity. The withholding of such "equipment," and the deaf ear we are given in response to our demands, teeter at the brink in "Stolen Dignity."
How do we reclaim Dignity? What "equipment" are we to seek? What transformation are we called to seek, so that we may be blessed with Dignity?
With Stolen Dignity, we are stripped of our crisp, white shirts, and ascot-adorned coats. But, what is the prayer that transforms Stolen Dignity? How does that transformation appear to our eyes, and resonate within us?
Monday, December 20, 2010
Care-giving...an Inheritance...
A nightly local newscast featured the need that adults in their late 40s and 50s have to care for their parents.
Upon my 88-year-old grandmother's death, my 88-year-old grandfather was welcomed to live with us. For the next seven years--from 1975 through 1982, my life was enriched by a gentle storyteller. I knew my grandfather as Ray. We all did. "I am too young to be called Grandpa," Ray said.
In younger days, he had a hot temper. I knew a man, who was filled with many prejudices. Yet, Ray was a gentle man during my lifetime of knowing him.
Until the day I die, I pray I may live up to what Ray said to me--to us.
"When I die, don't be sad.
"I have made amends with everyone I had differences with."
Ray's words--Ray's inheritance to me--has been a guiding light in my life.
If I make amends with everyone I have had differences, I will have lived fully.
Thank you, Mom and Dad. Thank you, Ray.
You planted the seedlings of care-giving in my life.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Elizabeth Edwards. Resilience.
I just learned that Elizabeth Edwards died today.
I commend to you Elizabeth Edwards' autobiography, Resilience: Reflections on the Burdens and Gifts of Facing Life's Adversities. I read it earlier this year.
Reflections.
Elizabeth conveyed a truth FAR too often missed. Response to our lives' experiences, whatever they may be, is not a simple matter. Reading her life's story conveyed to me the importance of living the nuances of my experiences. To live the nuances--the complicated realities of my life--with one unified response, with one broad stroke of a brush, is to miss Elizabeth's conveyed truth.
Burdens. Gifts.
She addressed the complexities of her husband's affair in a way worthy of our notice. Elizabeth made a distinction between her relationship with her husband, and her partnership with John as a parent to their four children--three of whom are still living. When questioned by confounded reporters, as to why she continued to have amicable contact with John, she said something to the effect that John is a good father. She said she did not want to get in the way of those strong relationships continuing.
Life's Adversities.
She lived realistic optimism. She did not deny what she was facing. Yet, she took actions necessary to co-create a positive life for herself--for her family. She used her life experiences to support research and exploration. My rereading is needed to listen as to what actions I may take in my own life. How do I--how do we--live our lives.
I pray that I do not elevate Elizabeth to the precarious perch of a hero. She deserves a more personal response than heroism conveys. I do not want to romanticize how she handled her life experiences. That would be to drown out the truths she offers with noisy. self-serving declarations.
My prayer is that I and others may be motivated to read her autobiography, and learn what she can teach us regarding resilience, reflection, burdens, gifts, and adversities.
Resilience: Reflections on the Burdens, and Gifts, of Facing Life's Adversities
Elizabeth Edwards, 1949-2010
I commend to you Elizabeth Edwards' autobiography, Resilience: Reflections on the Burdens and Gifts of Facing Life's Adversities. I read it earlier this year.
Reflections.
Elizabeth conveyed a truth FAR too often missed. Response to our lives' experiences, whatever they may be, is not a simple matter. Reading her life's story conveyed to me the importance of living the nuances of my experiences. To live the nuances--the complicated realities of my life--with one unified response, with one broad stroke of a brush, is to miss Elizabeth's conveyed truth.
Burdens. Gifts.
She addressed the complexities of her husband's affair in a way worthy of our notice. Elizabeth made a distinction between her relationship with her husband, and her partnership with John as a parent to their four children--three of whom are still living. When questioned by confounded reporters, as to why she continued to have amicable contact with John, she said something to the effect that John is a good father. She said she did not want to get in the way of those strong relationships continuing.
Life's Adversities.
She lived realistic optimism. She did not deny what she was facing. Yet, she took actions necessary to co-create a positive life for herself--for her family. She used her life experiences to support research and exploration. My rereading is needed to listen as to what actions I may take in my own life. How do I--how do we--live our lives.
I pray that I do not elevate Elizabeth to the precarious perch of a hero. She deserves a more personal response than heroism conveys. I do not want to romanticize how she handled her life experiences. That would be to drown out the truths she offers with noisy. self-serving declarations.
My prayer is that I and others may be motivated to read her autobiography, and learn what she can teach us regarding resilience, reflection, burdens, gifts, and adversities.
Resilience: Reflections on the Burdens, and Gifts, of Facing Life's Adversities
Elizabeth Edwards, 1949-2010
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Dignitaries of Compassion
This week two experiences regarding help, listening, and hearing were given to me. The first came with a doctor, who is new to me. I was desperate for help. I did not want to feel as needy as I felt. Yet, I came to the doctor with undeniable needs. The second experience continues yet today. When I receive help, how do I respond?
I am not alone in having needs--undeniable needs. I am not alone in needing help. If all of us have been given undeniable needs, does that mean that help is undeniable?
Help.
Can I ask for help? Do I exert the strength I have been given to be needy to the degree I require? Can I dignify compassion, while I deflect pity for my needs?
Dignitaries of Compassion. Deflectors of Pity.
Can we serve as dignitaries of compassion in our lives each day, as we meet individuals in need? Can we be deflectors of pity, who serve as dignitaries of compassion?
Cultivators Who Redefine "Needy."
Can we be cultivators willing to redefine needy? Can we be cultivators willing to redefine undeniable help?
Undeniable Needs. Undeniable Help.
Do we hear undeniable needs? Do we listen to provide undeniable help?
Worthy Recipients?
Do we view ourselves as the only worthy recipients of undeniable help?
Do we view others as the only worthy recipients of undeniable help?
Recipients. Seekers. Recipients.
I am not alone. We are receiving help. Yet, how are we accepting it? What are our undeniable needs?
What undeniable help do we seek? What undeniable help will we receive?
I am not alone in having needs--undeniable needs. I am not alone in needing help. If all of us have been given undeniable needs, does that mean that help is undeniable?
Help.
Can I ask for help? Do I exert the strength I have been given to be needy to the degree I require? Can I dignify compassion, while I deflect pity for my needs?
Dignitaries of Compassion. Deflectors of Pity.
Can we serve as dignitaries of compassion in our lives each day, as we meet individuals in need? Can we be deflectors of pity, who serve as dignitaries of compassion?
Cultivators Who Redefine "Needy."
Can we be cultivators willing to redefine needy? Can we be cultivators willing to redefine undeniable help?
Undeniable Needs. Undeniable Help.
Do we hear undeniable needs? Do we listen to provide undeniable help?
Worthy Recipients?
Do we view ourselves as the only worthy recipients of undeniable help?
Do we view others as the only worthy recipients of undeniable help?
Recipients. Seekers. Recipients.
I am not alone. We are receiving help. Yet, how are we accepting it? What are our undeniable needs?
What undeniable help do we seek? What undeniable help will we receive?
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