Today.

Today, I find myself happy. Content, really. Maybe it is because I slept well yesterday, which I haven't done in weeks. Maybe it is due to feeling like I have my financial state in a place where I see the light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe it is that I feel competent at work. Perhaps it is all of these. I feel like I am finally starting to be the woman I have wanted to be for a long time but haven't been able to achieve.

I worked late tonight. Something that would have irked me in the past, but since it is not required very often and we have much to do before mid-February I am at ease with it. I ate a health dinner of leftovers. Then I walked to the independent movie rental place and got some movies. I felt independent and confident. I love my city. I love where I am in this moment. I did joke with my parents on the phone about how things can never be good for too long before something bad happens, yet, I am confident about how things are going. I am following God's will and things will work out. I am blessed.

TUrn, turn, turn

I have been involved in several conversations recently that have in their own ways have led me to think about how we are all called to different things. Each of our gifts have unique qualities that through community and accountability give strength and allow us to make a whole. I was lucky to learn early through my experiences at the Catholic Worker that there is a need for all our gifts and callings. Some people are led to direct civil disobedience and others are the ones who get the phone call about who got arrested where and keep the community running in the interim. These pieces make a whole. One set of gifts is not more important than another--though through our own earthly egos it may be hard to remember that.

Right now, I need time to myself. I need to turn inward and do some hard work. I have always given greatly of myself to others, sometimes to my own detriment emotionally and psychologically. Now is a time for me. I have recently had less patience with others, especially my friends, I hear what they are saying but instead of the advice and solid support they are used to I get snippy. I say things like, "Life sucks, shit happens all the time, you just have to find a way to make do and not dwell." Or when it is relationship advice I say, "Really, you think you are the only person who is alone that doesn't want to be? You think that I want a life where I am alone and have no one to give me a hug or lie next to me on a 'dark night of the soul'"? I have been accused of being callous and going too far with my tough love of late. I have distanced myself from my family too. A family I have always been close to, a family I have always taken a role of responsibility with. A family I love, but after our loss this summer, it is something I need to have space from to grieve and to nurture myself rather than them.

My last post was about how all my life, I have searched and yearned for community, only to find that I do not want it any longer. What I really need is more time for inward reflection. I need time to learn to be still after so many years of flitting here and there. I need to relearn to listen to my "still small voice" and to nurture my spirituality. I think I need to figure out what it means to be the most at peace with myself that I have ever been. The irony, is that as I am having a harder time relating to others and less desiring of community, I need more than ever my spiritual community. I have recently agreed to take on a leadership roll with the group I worship with. I need to be accountable to my spiritual community, my spiritual development, and this group of seekers. I need to keep them at the center of my life. In order to do so, I felt that the spirit was guiding me to accept--that I am prepared to be in such a position as I have never been before. The need I speak of is not out of ego or something worldly, but a deep spiritual need driven by the Divine.

However, I have begun to doubt myself. I feel like I can't keep up or on top of things in my day-to-day life. I don't know that I am prepared enough (spiritually, emotionally, etc) or seasoned enough. I am new to the YM and I haven't been involved very much in the Quaker-world for nearly 10 years. I hope it is natural to doubt oneself. I know experientially that I must follow where I am led. I know that I must stay connected to God. I know that I have those I worship with for support and guidance. After all we are a community and no Quaker is an island. I take heart in the responses I got when I told some of my Elders from my home meeting and some of my F/friends about agreeing to the position. I was told, "if you listen to your leadings you will lead the group well. Don't second guess those leadings because as far as I remember your spiritual direction when followed was truly that, spiritual direction" that "I should continue to follow in my grandfather's thoughtful and challenging footsteps."

I have felt God move through me before. However, it wasn't till this summer that I learned what it is to surrender to that power and to follow God's direction. It was liberating in a way. I am finally coming to a place where I am open to learning how to be God's vessel and to do God's work. I am sure I will have many mis-steps but that is what community is for, keeping you accountable, helping to guide you, and checking that you don't out run your guide.

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven;

a time to be born, a time to die;

a time to kill, and a time to heal;

a time to break down, and a time to build up;

a time to weep, and a time laugh;

a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;

a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

a time to a time to seek, and a time to lose;

a time to keep, and a time to throw away;

a time to tear, and a time to sew;

a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

a time to love, and a time to hate;

a time for war, and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3-3:8

Haiti

So, I have this friend who used to work in the library with me. This fall he left to do missionary work for the Episcopalians in Haiti. He was teaching when the earthquake hit and managed to evacuate himself and the children before the building collapsed. Last I heard, he was camping out in a soccer field. I am so grateful that he is okay, even as my heart is heavy with the thought of the magnitude of the loss of life.
I've been thinking back to the flood that followed Hurricane Floyd in Eastern NC back in 1999. That's my reference for disasters. I'm thinking about the disaster recovery work that I did in the wake of it and how important it was for me to help my community in our time of need. I want to help out with Haiti, but it seems that all I can give at the moment is an insignificant amount of money in the face of such devastation.
So I'm doing the only other thing I can do. I'm praying for the relief efforts to go as smoothly as possible. I'm praying that the death toll with be lower than anticipated. I'm praying for my friend, that he will continue to be safe and have the strength to do the work that is needed in the days to come.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

Community

I grew up on the rocky shores of Lake Superior and in the deep forests of Northeastern Minnesota. It is a part of the world that is predisposed to loneliness, an only child feels it even more strongly than most. By the time I was in high school I longed for community. I felt that with Quakers is where I wanted to find that community. I chose my college based on that fact. I got community, I studied community—sometimes I had too much of it. I lived in an intentional community, I lived in unintentional community.

This last year has been both really extraordinary and really difficult. I am finding I want more time alone and less time with others. I have recently decided to live alone. I keep asking myself several questions related to this.

How does needing to be alone balance with my strong desire to have community?

Is the community we are building at my worship group enough? Will it provide a structure for me to develop strong bonds with others and God that will allow me to support others and to let them support me?

Not too long ago I would have been scared to spend so much time alone. I spend most of my 20’s running from one place to the next. I felt restless and unhappy. Over the last few years I have started to come to peace with things, I feel at home in Baltimore and want to put down roots. I need stability. I am confronting the things that made me bounce from place to place when I was younger. I guess to do that work, I need time alone. At the same time it is nice to live somewhere that I am not totally anonymous.

I've got sticky everywhere

Well, the title has little to do with anything. I did get it in my head last night as I left a certain meetinghouse in a town we Charm City. I was walking to my car and the reused salad container (the kind you get in the grocery store) was leaking watermelon juice and balsamic vinegar down my leg. The song is a Breeders song. If you think about it...sticky everywhere isn't really that pleasant. That could perhaps discribe what I am going to say in this post.

I was happy and feeling fulfilled. The group I have been working to start as part of my "volunteering" with AFSC had had its first open to the public event. It went well. We had had a potluck and "fundraiser" for a group called "No More Victims" that one of our group members was feeling called to do something for. We had it after the Women in Black Peace Path along Charles St. It was raining yesterday so there wasn't a big turn out for the Peace Path which is unfortunate, but we had probably 30 some folks for the potluck which was better than I had hoped for. And the Meeting Peace Committee had even agreed to sponsor us and come...so that is always nice.

I wasn't able to get off work in time to join the peace path but had been hoping to get there early to do set up for the potluck. I didn't get there as early as I had hoped but since we had people form meeting agree to help it all came together well. However, Quakers are Quakers. I kept getting told how do things (since I never go to simple lunch I don't know the process) and being asked if I had ever been there before by people I have talked to after meeting. And generally being treated in ways that if I hadn't resigned myself to Quaker ways long ago would have pissed me off.

I love Quakers. I know that my spiritual home is with Quakers, but that doesn't mean I like everything about us. In fact, I think we are actually very annoying at times. There is a general way of treating people that are not seen as being part of the meeting that is condescending and standoff-ish. Young people are seen as being something novel but not to be trusted or counted on...and that is our own doing for not making more of a presence in meetings. However, I have been coming to this meeting for 3 years --fairly infrequently mind you...but enough that I should at least look familiar. I don't expect to be remembered or even to have someone remember that the familiarity is from meeting. But it would still be nice to be treated in a welcoming manner and maybe as if I had a brain. I realize that these are very unkind charges to be making. And if you ask me for specific examples, it would be hard to say why it is I feel this way. I think what makes it worse is that meetings play favorites, picking a young adult that comes with some frequency or who was active as a teen and choosing to hold them up as this shining example and ignoring those of us who come infrequently and may be having our own struggles and tests of faith--those of us that need support and kindness.

This even happened in my home meeting when I returned from Guilford and having been the Quaker Leadership Scholars program for FOUR years. No one made an effort to get to know me (excepting those that I had pre-existing relationships with) and even when I tried to come regularly and get involved in committees still felt like an outsider at the rise of meeting.

I would have let it all go. Done the dishes (which is a long-standing ministry of mine at gatherings like this) and been done with it. However, I asked a friend of mine, who I met at college to come and support this venture. She is familiar with Quakers and has attended meetings in the past though being raised and part of another denomination. She grew up in an intentional faith-based community. We both share a passion for social justice, service, a need for spirituality, and community. As she came to help with the dishes I said, "Thanks for coming, I hope it hasn't been too awkward." She said it wasn't but was a lot like a quieter version of the intentional community she grew up in. We laughed. She said she thought it was funny that no matter where you were old Quaker men all look the same, with food in their beards. I said that the woman all tend too look the same and in a few years I would have my own lady beard and awkwardly out of style way of dressing. We were laughing at this (and please don't be offended, I make horrible jokes about what I love) when someone from the meeting came in and squawked about whether or not we were doing the dishes correctly. I said I had read the signs that were posted and followed that (this was the fourth person to do so). It irked me abit that rather than being thanked for doing this without being asked to do it, I was helping out. But rather than thanks the first thought was "they must be doing it wrong."

I mentioned to her that I disliked how hard it was to get to know people at meeting. That I had been coming to this meeting on and off for three years--and yet almost no one even recognized me. That there is the core group of people at any meeting, that they do it all, and complain about how hard it is to get more people involved. Yet, they can be so standoff-ish. That no one attempts to talk with others after meeting. That it is one thing if you are new to Friends but once they find out that you are a friend they seem to get awkward. She said that she had always felt that way after the meetings she had attended. That there was a lack of warmth. I said I hated that feeling and wanted to be involved and a sense of community. She said to come to her church (which is a large congregation). I said that I had started going to a worship group. That we all wanted more community and accountability than we were getting (not to mention more christ-centered meeting).

I am not doing justice to the odd sense people get after meeting. But if outsiders are seeing it and young friends who want to be involved, included, in community and accountable for living a mindful life--than there is a problem. If those that are hyper-involved in meetings are feeling burnt-out and taxed then it is essential we change our after meeting practices. True that part of this accountability means that I need to go to meeting regularly...which is hard when you feel like there is not a genuine interest in your presence there. At that point I usually think...I could still be asleep. I miss being a part of a community. I am glad that I have the opportunity to start attending something that may be closer to what I crave than what I get at established meetings but sad to that Quakers can be so condescending and rude. But like family, I love that which will always be apart of me at the same time know that sometimes the real gift is that family (or religious community) you create is what sustains and supports you.

So next time you see someone new at meeting...or maybe you have seen them a few times...standing off to the side alone, try talking to them about the weather or things that the meeting is working on....chances are they will appreciate it. And that they will be just as awkward as you--they are afterall at a Quaker Meeting.

Joy

But I helped him a-drink his wine/And he always had some mighty fine wine/Singin'...Joy to the world/All the boys and girls now/Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea/Joy to you and me--Hoyt Axton



If you all will excuse me conscerning my diatribe previously, which was obviously using you all for cheap therapy...Thank you. I don't know how to move on in some ways. And in other ways, my life is moving on.



I went to meeting Sunday, and it filled me with JOY. I was so happy for the gift of worshiping with all the wonderful people there. I was so happy to be there in that moment. I couldn't stop smiling.

I am becoming a glass half full kinda person. It is a first. It may not last. But I am content to enjoy the present. I am thankful for my blessings and where I am in my life right now. I am happy for what I have in this moment.

I have been telling my therapist for a year now that I need to find and claim my joy again. I think I may just have it within my grasp. Here is to new beginnings. Here is to faith. Thank you lord for my blessings, for my friends, my family...let me be your vessel. Here is to JOY.

Ch-ch-changes: Part 3 Home

It was a rough summer. Elmer shaped me as a person. I am still having trouble talking about it. I feel blessed that I was able to spend about 8 weeks in Minnesota. I am so happy I could spend so much time with Nana and my mom. Unfortunately, my father was too concerned with whether I could get another job in this economy to be very pleasant. I told him I knew things would work, I felt it deep down that I would get a job and that my life would be better than it had been in a long time when I got back to Baltimore. He didn’t believe me. Even when I had to fly back for second interviews with two positions at Johns Hopkins.

I really wanted him to enjoy the time we had together. I don’t know when I will be able to afford to see my family next after this summer. But I knew it would work out. This summer was a lesson in faith and listening to your leadings. As a result I got to spend time with my family, be there for Nana, see friends I don’t get to see often, go to my home meeting, go to the BWCA, and spend the summer in Duluth (which is really the best time of year to be there). It was a blessed summer and I was able to do it; to be there for my family and be in a good place because I had quit my toxic job.

I am back home in Baltimore now. And, yes, it really is home. I have friends here and I have managed to carve out a life here even despite being miserable for so long. I have never felt so at home as I do here. I have a new job and it is amazing. I feel like I am starting a whole new wonderful chapter. The best one yet. Everyone tells me I look refreshed and am glowing.

I have plans: I am still volunteering with AFSC and we are doing some exciting things, I am going to take language classes this fall and will apply to graduate programs that my new job might pay a portion of the tuition for, I am going to try to get to meeting regularly (though I always say that….), I hope to blog more often (but I have said that to myself for months too).

I feel like I carry Elmer with me more than ever. Sometimes I worry that he can see everything now and is disappointed. But I remember that he knew me before and he loved me then…and he knows I am imperfect and loved me anyway.

Ch-ch-changes: Part 2 I’ll Fly Away

We held the memorial a month later. I had been in Minnesota the whole time. Nana and I had been cleaning out the apartment. I had spent everyday with her. We got to the memorial with picture boards and Elmer in a handcrafted urn. My father made it, not ahead of time (years) like the casket for my other grandfather, but he made it. I was carrying it up the steps and people I have known my whole life, friends of my grandparents didn’t recognize me.

We had a wonderful Quaker service. Most of the family was there including the newest member. One of my cousins had gotten married the weekend Elmer went into hospice. People said many lovely things. I sat there without emotion. My best friend did the crying for me. It was great to see so many of Elmer’s friends: from the commune they had in the 50’s, to the Twin-Cities Meeting that he had helped to start (with many others), to people from NYM that he hand had a hand in beginning (with many others also), to people I knew from People Camp that Elmer brought me to when I was a teen, to people from Duluth and Grand Marais, regular folk and dignitaries alike. I spent most of it with my best friend and other Mothers.

After the meeting potluck we went to my parents’ place for more eating. My older cousin who I rarely see was there. As the oldest grandchildren we had the blessing to have spent more time with Elmer as youngsters. Thus, we have a special bond despite rarely seeing each other. Our younger cousins were raised in a very evangelical Christian household. Only one of the three has turned out to be a liberal like the rest of the family. During dinner the phone rang I went to answer it, it was the DFL calling for money. The DFL is a huge part of why my grandparents moved to Minnesota. But they have kinda sold out to become like the national Democratic Party and that is a bit disenchanting. I said something to the effect when I got off the phone that it was the DFL and I wasn’t giving them money. The new husband of my cousin (one of the younger ones) said he would never give money to Democrats, he was a republican. I new it wasn’t the time to say anything to him…just felt a little bad that he didn’t know the crowd. We are raging unabashed liberals…but Elmer wouldn’t have judged, he would have found something to love in this young man. So I kept my mouth shut. Though, I saw some looks in the room and everyone was surprise that I didn’t take him down…it wasn’t the time. If I meet him again, then I can school him.

The next day, the fam loaded up in 3 cars (yes, I know and we do care about the environment) to go picnic east of Grand Marais. The beach was one of Elmer’s favorite places to picnic, we knew he would want a little of himself there.

Later in the week we took him to Masabi Park Coop. On the way there we stopped at the Wellstone Memorial. After we left Elmer off we went to Hibbing to see Bob Dylan’s childhood home. We split it up that day so the youngsters could ride together. My younger cousin (the liberal one) knows little of us older ones. It was great to spend time with them and the rest of the family. I even got a whole day with my older cousin. Those were the blessings in the situation. Getting to spend so much time with Nana this summer was also a blessing. She is holding up well. They would have been married 63 years in early September. Something I can't even imagine. I can only hope to find a partner to share my life with like my grandparents had in each other.

Ch-ch-changes: Part 1 The Silver-lining

The Friday before Memorial Day weekend, I was in a senior center parking lot with my stuff spread out all over looking for a pen. Finally, I was being contacted for an interview for a job. Two and half years of being miserable and finally I was getting response from the jobs I had been applying to. I was so excited as I hung up. My phone rang again as I had just finished rounding up my stuff and putting it into my car. It was my parents. They rarely call during the day. I answered and it was my dad, with is scary nurses voice, he told me that Elmer had been in the hospital since Tuesday and it wasn’t looking good. I said I would try to be home soon. I had been trying to convince my parents that it was a good idea for me to quit my job and spend time with Elmer for the summer. Even at 30 I had to get my parents (father really) to agree with this idea for the sake of family harmony. If he didn’t support this plan it was going to be a miserable summer. I had been sitting with this idea for a while. I felt that it was what I needed to do; it was what God was telling me to do. I had been having arguments with my parents about coming home. Mostly because my dad didn’t like me quitting my job. I felt that it was a toxic situation and the best thing I could do was leave it. That night dad called again, to say Elmer was worse. They didn’t know how long he had; they were putting him in hospice. I told him I would be come by Tuesday or Wednesday at the latest, since it was a long weekend. My boss called Saturday, I told her I was resigning on Tuesday and it would be my last day. I felt liberated.

I arrived at the hospital around 9pm on Wednesday. Since he had been in the hospital for about a week, the family was tired. Nana went to sleep on a couch across the hall my parents and aunt who was staying with them went home to bed. I stayed with Elmer. He was being kept comfortable, but was not lucid. We watched late night TV like we did when I was little. We used to watch late night TV together because he didn’t see the point in putting me to bed till I was tired. My parents often worked late in those days, my father as a nurse and my mom with her two to three jobs. Elmer was semi-retired, thus he and I spent a lot of time together.

We sat in the hospice room. He was breathing heaving. I sat there with my hand on his arm. I told him I didn’t thing Jay Leno had anything on Johnny Carson. I told him about quitting my job and how good I felt about it. I told him I knew that if I had faith everything would workout. I would get a better job when I went back to Baltimore and that my life was going to be really great. I told him I was here for him. That I would was going to spend as much of the summer there. I would keep an eye on Nana and he didn’t need to worry about her. I told him we loved him. That when he was ready he could let go. We would miss him, but we didn’t want him to be in pain. His breathing slowed, the death rattle came. I went and woke Nana up. She cried and held his hand, I held hers. We prayed.

On identifying as Christian.

I was having dinner with a friend of mine and his lovely finance last night and the topic turned to identifying as Christian. J's fiance is uncomfortable with the label at the moment, partially because of the sordid history of Christianity, partially because she's no longer what her Southern Baptist mother considers a Christian and partially because she's still mulling over where she stands theologically.

I was once in her shoes, somewhat. I haven't always been comfortable calling myself a Christian, but I am now. Two things changed. The first is that I became more comfortable with using Christian language to describe my experience. The second is that my experience with the Living Christ became less antagonistic.

I am still uncomfortable with some of the things that have been done in the name of Christianity. I don't like the way some people who identify as Christian behave now, or have over the history of Christendom. But for me, identifying as a Christian isn't about identifying with a group of other people, it's about identifying myself with Christ. I am a Christian because I have a personal relationship with Christ Jesus.

But that begs the question of why bother identifying as anything at all. I mean, if it's just between me and Jesus, what's the point? The point is evangelism. (Did I just write that?) The point is letting people know that Jesus is the reason that I do my best to live with integrity, obedience and intentionality.

St. Francis is credited with saying that one should preach without ceasing and use words when necessary. I believe that one's life is the greatest ministry one can have, but that without identifying that life as a Christian life, you can lose the message of Divine Love and Forgiveness.

This is not to say that Christianity is the only way to be faithful to the Divine. This is to say that the Love of God through Christ is a miraculous, beautiful thing and need not be hidden. There may well be many paths up the mountain, but the Christian path I'm on has a great view.

I am a Christian and I am not ashamed or conflicted about it. A little weirded out by the realization that I seem to be promoting evangelism, but perfectly comfortable with being a Christian. Christ is at the center of my life and letting people know seems right to me.

Love,
Elizabeth

Where I've been

Busy adjusting to full time work, dating, working on the QUIP Youth Book Project, teaching First Day School, goofing off, and in general, ignoring our blog. Sorry about that. Look for several new posts in the upcoming days!

Love,
Elizabeth

Learning to Listen

"I just feel like the way opened. That the path just cleared and brought me here."

I overheard someone at work say that this week. It was odd to hear it coming from someone who is not Quaker. And it made me a little angry to hear. Not because she used the phrase and certainly not because she feels like she is in a wonderful place, the right place for her. I am happy she feels so blessed. However, what made me angry was that I don’t feel that way right now. I feel like I am trapped at work and I hate my job. [Please keep in mind that while my office is in the same space as the person I overheard we work for two very different employers.]

I wish the way would open for me. But I think I don’t let myself be open to the spirit or its whispering in my life. I fight what whispers of the spirit do make their way to my ears and mind. I take the easy path when it comes to work. I go with what seems to be a stable job, a sure bet. And usually, I end up miserable. I don’t know what I want to do professionally. I just feel like I am supposed to work and work hard. Take sensible jobs that will pay the bills.

Yet, all I have gotten from this mentality is feeling burnt out, unappreciated, and resentful. I am resentful that I didn’t have the guts to take other positions. I am resentful towards people who are happy with their career choices. I work hard doing work that no one else will do on our project because it needs to be done and I don’t want to let down the people we are doing this research for. I put in a lot of work and I rarely get acknowledgement or even treated like a competent individual by my boss.

It has occurred to me that unless I open myself to the spirit and let it move through my life. To truly open myself to being a vessel to do God’s work I will probably not be blessed to have the way opening. I will not find myself in a place where I am happy and know with certainty that that is exactly where I need to be—until I am open to the leading of God.

It was my hope last year to go to meeting regularly. To work on nurturing my spiritual life. Well, I was not as successful with that as I had hoped. I tried to make it to Meeting once a month, to read the Bible more, and to take time out to spend time reflecting on spiritual matters regularly. I didn’t really succeed on those fronts. But I am finally learning to be still, to stop running from things, to be able to accept things in my life.

I hope to keep working on nurturing my spiritual life. Hopefully, one day I can reach a place where I am open to the movings and leadings of the spirit in my life. And hopefully, through the spirit I can come to a place where I can feel fulfilled and happy with my life. Or perhaps I need to struggle more to learn the lesson I need to learn.

Resolutions

I gave ministry at meeting this past week about the importance of thinking about the traditions we choose to uphold. I was thinking about the advent wreath and Christmas trees and all the other trappings of Christmas, but perhaps a more important thing for me to be thinking about this time of year is the tradition of making New Year's resolutions.

For me, the new year is a good time to reflect on the past year and think about the changes I want to make in my life. New Year's resolutions have been a good way for me to make those changes. Sometimes they stick beyond the year, and sometimes they don't. Sometimes I meet my goals and sometimes I don't. The year I decided to read the Bible I didn't quite make it in time. The year I decided to stop buying leather I not only succeeded, but haven't gone back.

I'm aware that the new year is an arbitrary date, just like Christmas. But it serves a purpose in my life as a way of marking time. The tradition of New Year's resolutions is helpful to me and so I choose to observe it. Last year I didn't make a resolution, as a way of trying to be gentler with myself, but I missed it. I don't think I was any gentler on myself for laying the tradition aside. This year, I think I'm going to try to do something again, perhaps trying the whole Bible thing again. I want to find something that adds something to my daily spiritual life and encourages thoughtfulness and gratitude.

This past year has been a difficult one, filled with health and financial problems, but I am feeling blessed today. I'm feeling somewhat better, if not fully well. I have friends and family who can afford to help me weather the financial strains of my illness. I have a positive living situation and job security. I am loved and I want to add something to my spiritual disciple to help me remember that. Any suggestions?

Love,
E.B.

World of Peacecraft

I head about this new video game from a couple of different people today. It's supposed to be like World of Warcraft, except as a history of Quakerism. I'm probably one of the few people who would consider playing it. However, in reading the blog entries about it, I began to suspect it was a hoax. I mean, I've been hanging out in Quaker circles for some time and I've never heard of the "Quaker United Service". I'm amused by the descriptions of the game however, which is why I've linked to it here.

It does provoke the question of what sort of video games are Quaker-friendly. I really like one in which you shoot space bunnies with plungers. Not exactly peaceful, but not exactly realistic violence either.

Love,
E.B.

A poem, and thanksgiving

I'm feeling better, so much better that I'm getting to all the things I've had to set aside over the past eight months. In doing so, I found a poem I don't remember writing:

Prayer

You have always given me
just a little more than I can withstand,
leaving me broken. You know
that I carry each failure
like an aching wound.
These are not garments
I can shed to take on the new.
I am red and raw and cannot
imagine surviving another stripe.

But You have known me
from before I was anything at all.
Only You can heal me
Only You can make me whole.

Oh, Lord, let this be something
I can do.

I have no idea what leading I was resisting, or when I wrote this, except that it probably involved crying the the shower, given some of the scribbles on the same page.

I am so thankful to be far from the place I was in when I wrote that, even if I was there only a few weeks ago.

Love,
E.B.

Why I haven't posted in a while.

Today it feels quite a bit like fall. It's about sixty five degrees in my room and the little dog has chosen not to get out from under her blanket in the other room to sit at my feet while I type.
It was winter here when I fell headlong into this depression. I've weathered a lot of tough things since it began and I am tired, so tired that I'm now getting worse and not better. I'm in talks with my doctor to be admitted to an inpatient unit for a short stay, starting this afternoon.
I'm looking forward to it. It's a relief to have that space where I don't have to think about if I've eaten often enough or taken the right number of pills. I won't have to do anything but take care of myself, and I'll even have help with that.
I'm in the process of rallying my support network and I need your prayers, my internet Friends. I'm losing the ability to take comfort in my faith. I'm bitter about my suffering and feel He's given me more than I can handle this time. I know that I've been handling this depression far better than earlier ones, but that's hard to access right now. I need your prayers, Friends.

Love,
E.B.

Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God. Matthew 4:4 NIV Study Bible

And he was in the desert forty days being tempted by Satan. He was with the wild animals, and angels attended him. Mark 1:13 NIV Study Bible

I have been trying to attend to my spiritual needs more lately. It is hard. I allow myself to get pulled in too many directions and have a hard time saying ‘no’ especially when other people need something. I had a leading last August that I needed to start volunteering with a local Friends organization…and well, it is July now and I just sent the volunteer application in. So I am moving at a different pace than maybe the Lord would like to see. I have wanted to go to meeting more often for the last year or so yet still only make it maybe once a month. I know this is the direction I need to go in; to return to my spiritual home. But reincorporating it into my life seems difficult. But I feel the pull clearly…when I let myself.

A series of events recently had me thinking, again, on why it is that so many young adult Friends seem to drift away…I have many lines of thought on this phenomenon. Currently, I am pondering how it is that few of my year in QLSP are actively involved with Friends. Some are definitely, for example one of us is a pastor now. Some are slowly being drawn into projects in the larger society. Some of us do work that has some meaningful benefit to society and that work is tied to our spiritual beliefs. But I started to contemplate how it is that individuals from other parts of my Quaker life are more actively involved in the SOF then my QLSP friends. I think back on the unspoken currents of trying to “out Quaker” each other or those “super-Quakers” among us and if some how that un-quakerly attitude has attributed to some of us departing on another path rather than one serving the larger SOF. I don’t have answers or even any idea if what I just said is grounded in a reality that others experience.

Mainly, this is my attempt to say, “I am still here.” I think it has become clear that I need to make my way out of my personal desert and come back to the fold. It may take time but I am starting that journey—again.

Lapses and forgettings are so frequent. Our surroundings grow so exciting. Our occupations are so exacting. But when you catch yourself again, lose no time in self-recriminations, but breathe a silent prayer for forgiveness and begin again, just where you are. Thomas Kelly, A Testament of Devotion.

Jesse Helms died yesterday.

The Guardian described him as a "rightwing senator who opposed civil rights, gun laws, hippies, foreign aid and the UN." My initial response was that they left out art. The man opposed funding for the arts with vigor.

My earliest political memory is of a senatorial campaign between Harvey Gantt and Helms, which featured ads describing Gantt's political record and ended with the phrase "too liberal for North Carolina." I remember thinking that everything mentioned in the ad was a good thing and then being really surprised that it was an attack ad.

I remember watching "Dear Jesse" in college, and aside from being taken aback by the appearance of Matthew Shepard (yes, that Matthew Shepard), I remember being really surprised at how fair and balanced the documentary was, given that it was about Jesse Helms and was made by a gay man.

I almost had a party to celebrate his retirement. (I was thwarted by the rules in my apartment complex.) After his retirement, he settled into a fairly quiet life only popping into politics to endorse the occasional candidate. But he also became convinced that AIDS was a bad thing and argued for funding to fight AIDS in Africa. So much so that Bono praised him for it at one point.

He adopted a child, not because he and his wife could not conceive, but because the kid, who had cerebral palsy, had asked for parents for Christmas.

On this forth of July, I am struck by how similarly I think about Jesse Helms and America. I feel deeply conflicted when I think about them both and rack up more negative connotations than positive. They both are mostly symbolic in my mind, but they symbolize home: deeply flawed, well-intentioned and capable of change. That Jesse Helms, who in many ways was a symbol of hate, was capable of good deeds throughout his life, both large and small and was capable of rethinking things even late in life gives me hope for a better day in America, and in the wider world.

I'm hoping that Jesse is facing a merciful judgment in the Heaven of "Angels in America" :

Big city. Overgrown with weeds, but flowering weeds. On every corner a wrecking crew and something new and crooked going up catty corner to that. Windows missing in every edifice like broken teeth, gritty wind, and a gray high sky full of ravens... ...prophet birds, Roy. Piles of trash, but lapidary like rubies and obsidian, and diamond-colored cowspit streamers in the wind. And voting booths. And everyone in Balenciaga gowns with red corsages, and big dance palaces full of music and lights and racial impurity and gender confusion. And all the deities are creole, mulatto, brown as the mouths of rivers. Race, taste and history finally overcome.

I think that only in the Kingdom of Heaven can race, taste, and history be overcome. Good thing we've got the chance to catch glimpses of it here and now.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

Why I'm doing this Youth Book Project thing.

Those of you who know me well (which is most of our readership so far as I can tell) know that Quakers drive me up the wall.
I'm not a big fan of YAF gatherings. I'm not a fan of ecumenical Quaker gatherings either. My reasons are twofold. First, while I value my friendships with Quakers my age, I see no reason to segregate myself from older Friends. In fact, I'm more likely to find common ground spiritually with older Friends.
As for ecumenical Quakerism, I find that I like it in theory but in practice it is deeply draining and frustrating. Part of this is my experiences as a teenager with the joint yearly meeting sessions of the NC yearly meetings when we celebrated our triennial. Part of this is being a fly on the wall, so to speak, at YouthQuake before that was laid down. When the in-group dialog is very different from the out-group dialog there's a problem. When the planning is done in an ecumenical cooperative spirit, but the implementation is proselytization, there's a problem.
While I was in NC, I had a conversation with Will T. (at least I think it was Will) about my Quaker identity. I had identified myself as a member of one yearly meeting and an attender of another, a graduate of a Quaker college, YouthQuake and blah, blah, blah. I don't think I ever mentioned Friends Music Camp, but I did that too. He was inquiring about how confused I must be about what kind of a Quaker I am, and I had to reply that I am not. Each time I interact with the wider world of Friends I become more and more certain that I belong with the Conservatives. The silence is different somehow and it feels like home.
So how is it that I, who avoid ecumenical and YAF gatherings, came to be a part of the Quaker Youth Book Project? Well, it was a leading.
See, several years ago I was sitting in worship with my big liberal meeting. And that still small voice which is never really all that small to me said "Speak to them" and then didn't give me anything to say. He also didn't give me a clear sense of who the pronoun was referring to, other than that "they" were Quakers.
Since then, I've started this blog. I've been teaching First Day School. I taught Bible Study for NCYM-C and found that while that felt led and was wonderful experience, it didn't calm the "speak to them" leading much at all. And in January, when the call for ed board applications came my way, I promptly felt the need to answer some of the questions in the application. The next thing I knew I'd filled out the whole application, except for the references. I realized that He wanted me to send it in, so I did. Lo and behold, they wanted me on the board. I didn't need any time for discernment. The message was clear. I was going to have to commit to 2-3 years of ecumenical YAF work. At least it will involve some sort of end product, right?
Actually, I'm pretty excited about the book. I can't wait to get my hands on the call for submissions (I was recording during the session when we crafted it, so I have no personal notes). I'm so happy that the board works so well together. I'm hopeful that we'll get quality writing about interesting topics. I'm looking forward to finishing up the guide for writing workshops and leading a few myself.
Oh, and I'm really grateful that I'm off the hook for the Young Adult Friends Conference at Earlham later this month. If you're going to be there, I'm sure you'll hear more about the Project from other ed board members. Rumor has it we're pretty awesome, so make sure to say hello.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

With wings as eagles

So, I used up all my patience on my trip to NC. I'm excited about QUIP's Youth Book Project, relieved that the board works so well together and a little bit cranky about getting dragged back into the wider world of Friends. I'm also feeling a little anxious about the amount of energy this project is going to require. I'm already exhausted.

It's hard work speaking in front of a group, even when it's just a bunch of Quakers who want to pat you on the head and tell you you're awesome. It's hard to have your photo taken over and over and over again when you've gained a lot of weight over the past year or so and are still really uncomfortable with it. It's hard work to act as recording clerk in most situations, but when you factor in theological and cultural differences it's even harder.

Moreover, I had to face a lot of difficult memories while I was there. Memories of a dear friend and mentor who committed suicide two years ago. Memories of past experiences of ecumenical Quakerism gone awry. Memories of campus drama from college and feeling unsupported by all the communities I identified with. I really wasn't expecting to have to talk to anyone about how I came to leave QLSP, or what the joint North Carolina Yearly Meeting sessions or Youth Quake were like for me. And I really wasn't prepared to see a portrait of my mentor hanging in the library.

There was a lot of talk about life transitions over the course of the long weekend and in a lot of ways I was truly blessed as I transitioned from college student to working girl. I never questioned my faith, although I struggled and grew with it. I never questioned my career path, although it hasn't always been easy. I really wish I could talk to my mentor about work right now.

I've grown a lot since college. I've learned to build community with individuals and no longer believe it intrinsically when groups tell me I'm welcome. I've learned to accept my abilities and leadings with a great deal less angst. I've even learned to speak in public without dissociating! I've learned to stand up for myself and to ask for what I need. Most importantly I've learned how to take care of myself.

So tonight I'm taking care of myself. I'm going to go to a tequila tasting and then an opera performance. Later this weekend there will be a tour of local artist studios, most likely a viewing of R. Kelly's entire Trapped in the Closet, and perhaps I'll even perform the 1812 overture as part of a "Last-Minute Orchestra". I'm filling my weekend with the silly, the outrageous, the artsy and the delicious. In the meantime, I'm enjoying work emails that warn of a potential "interruption as a result of the manhole fire."

Perhaps on Monday I'll be ready to transfer my notes about what I've agreed to do into my big to-do list. Maybe by First Day I'll be ready to go to worship. And if not, I'm not going to worry about it. He always gives me enough strength to do the things He's asked me to do, so I know I'll be fine.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst