Smuggling Grace

Images of flowers and flowering trees in spring.

— Photos by Renee Roederer

This post is an ode to my very beloved, very faithful, very long running car. After 25 years of longevity, Eleanor, my 1997 Toyota Camry, stopped running for good. She drove the distance to the moon — 240,000 miles — and was steadily on her way back, until at 285,013 miles, she could go no longer.

I couple of Thursdays ago, I enjoyed watching the odometer roll over to 285,000 miles. I felt so proud of her. This is the car of my entire adulthood. She began her life as the car of Eleanor Roederer, a relative, and when that Eleanor could no longer drive, she sold the car to me at a low price. I was 21 years old at the time. And when Eleanor Roederer died, I lovingly nicknamed my car after her. Just like her namesake, this car lived a long, long life.

This was my car when I lived in five different states —
Indiana,
Kentucky
Texas,
California, and
Michigan.

This car drove me to each of those moves too, and so in a sense, this car introduced me to just about everyone I know. This car has gone on road trips. In her last years, I especially enjoyed driving her around various places in Michigan, simply to go exploring. This is, after all, a gorgeous state. This car also took me around the state to all the annual Strolls for Epilepsy, sponsored by my workplace at the Epilepsy Foundation of Michigan. This car drove to innumerable errands. She was very familiar with all my favorite grocery stores, especially Trader Joe’s. In her longevity, she received many oil changes, in recent years at Uncle Ed’s Oil Shoppe (I highly recommend them). She was repaired a number of times at Ron’s Garage (I highly recommend them), and she currently resides there until she will be donated to Michigan Radio in a matter of days.

On Tuesday this week, I went to clean the car out, and I sat inside her for the last time and cried. I thanked her with so much gratitude. A 25 year old car that you’ve had in five states over your whole adulthood throughout so many life stages? That is a special gift. I thought through lots of wonderful memories. Besides the house I grew up in and the house I live in now, I have spent more time in this structure than any other. She was a very good girl, and I love her.

So there it is. I will have a new car (I don’t have it yet) and that will be fun and meaningful with exciting, new features. (A backup camera!) There will be no cassette player. That glory belongs only to Eleanor. I hope the next car will be just as faithful.

But for today, I will say that this car was truly glorious in every way. What a gift. Godspeed!

–Renee Roederer

In order to ponder and act upon solutions, we need to be able to delve into difficulty.

This week, I’ve been attending the annual conference of the Public Health Institute, and as part of our time together, we participated in an session entitled COPE (Cost of Poverty Experience), led by ThinkTank-Inc. In this, we learned some challenging statistics. I’d like to share some of those today.

— It takes 112 minimum wage working hours to afford housing at 30% of your income. This doesn’t involve purchasing a house, but instead, affording to rent a two bedroom apartment.

— Before the pandemic began, 1 in 8 children were experiencing food insecurity. Now, after entering the pandemic, that number is between 1 in 4 and 1 in 5.

— 60% of inmates in U.S. jails have not been convicted of a crime. They are awaiting trial and cannot afford cash bail.

— When it comes to a wealth gap, on average, White households have 8 times more wealth than Black households. On average, White households have 5 times more wealth than Hispanic households.

— 24% of workers, roughly 33.6 million people, do not have any sick leave.

These are statistics, but these realities impact human lives. These experiences are a part of our wider community, and they impact physical health, mental health, and relational health. In order to ponder and act upon solutions, we need to be able to delve into difficulty. And in in order to ponder and act upon solutions, we need to be in relationship with people who experience these realities and follow their leadership and expertise.

–Renee Roederer

A while back, I shared here about my year of surprises in 2022. For my milestone birthday this year, I asked my loved ones to pick a random month of the year and surprise me with something during that time. I shared that these things don’t need to be big or monumental. Some of my favorites so far have been surprise meals and surprise outings.

But then yesterday, I received a suitcase. It’s a brand new suitcase, delivered to my door from states away thanks to the kindness of one very favorite people. And I needed one too! The handle of my previous, carry-on rolly was damaged after many years of use.

So now I have a nice new one!

And I just absolutely loved how unexpected it was. Now I have an April suitcase!

–Renee Roederer

We should never underestimate a kind, affirming word.

Maybe someone has been grieving,
Maybe someone has been depressed,
Maybe someone has been anxious,
Maybe someone has been lonely,
Maybe someone has been stigmatized,
Maybe someone has been scapegoated,
Maybe someone has been exhausted,
Maybe someone has been vulnerable,
Maybe someone has been hope-seeking.

There’s nothing particularly deep or creative in lifting up the importance of a kind word. I’m just saying something obvious. But I can point to several moments lately when people have done this, and it’s had even more power than they knew. We may never know fully what someone is carrying.

A kind word might not only land well. It might transform well.

–Renee Roederer

I remember something wise one of my seminary classmates said many years ago. She had a caregiving career before coming to seminary, and she was applying it to her current studies as well. It’s about where and how she chooses to set boundaries. She said,

“You can inconvenience me, but you can’t hurt me.”

That’s an important distinction. Without stepping back and reflecting on the difference, and how these both feel to us, we might either move forward in ways that hurt us, or we might quickly dismiss someone who really needs our help.

There can also be times when a certain level of inconvenience also begins to hurt us, but that’s precisely when we begin to negotiate how we’re communicating or helping.

That’s just really wise:
“You can inconvenience me, but you can’t hurt me.”

–Renee Roederer

Recently, someone asked me a great question:

“What’s something about you that is off brand? A trait about you that is against-type — one that doesn’t fit as obviously with the rest of who you are?”

I’ve been asking this question to myself and others, and I’ve discovered it’s also a fun question for groups. I love these unexpected answers.

How would you answer it?

–Renee Roederer

Have you ever been with a child or adolescent who wants to be seen and observed?

“Watch this!” or “Watch me!” a young one might say as they play.

Or a teenager might just share all the things they’ve been up to lately — all the things they’ve been excited to try. The musical instrument they’re practicing, the new part-time job they’ve gotten, the team they’re on, or the play rehearsals they’re in at the moment.

When these moments happen, young people are connecting relationally with us. And we are also serving as mirrors for them to connect with their growing selves.

Though the formats or expressions may change, I don’t think adults grow out of this. We all need to connect relationally with others. We all need people to serve as mirrors so we can connect with our growing selves.

We all need to be beheld.

–Renee Roederer

Trauma distorts a sense of time. This is true with personal trauma and collective trauma alike. As a more benign example, in the midst of this pandemic, how many of us have had trouble scaling an accurate sense of time? Experiences long-ago feel like they just happened, and experiences near in time can feel distant. I feel this sensation all the time, and I hear it from others too.

More challenging though, when we’re experiencing trauma on a deeper level in our bodies, we have moments in which the painful past feels re-lived and re-experienced in the present. On top of this, we likely project anxieties onto our imagined future too. These begin to feel real and present also. Past difficulties and future difficulties are converging inside us. Time is crashing within. This can feel very physical as it plays out in our bodies, and we may respond with fight, flight, freeze, or fawn reflexes.

But what if we could also hack this process a bit, reversing it and distorting time purposefully in our favor?

What if…

… we choose to recall the most supportive and affirming people, experiences, and chapters of our lives, remembering them and meditating on them in ways that allow us to feel their presence in our bodies? What if we make these present, and it impacts our physical sensations too?

… we choose to imagine a supportive and affirming future with beloved people, experiences, and next chapters at peace, with things likely working out (or with some bumps and resilience, turning out okay enough) and we encounter a future vision that energizes us in our bodies? What if we make these present, and it impacts our physical sensations too?

In this process, an affirming past and supportive future can also converge in the present, but now, we’re hacking this distortion intentionally.

–Renee Roederer