I recently performed a stand-up set at Hersay IV, a comedy show with twelve women in Ann Arbor. We had so much fun!
Thought I’d share that today. The video quality is so-so, but the sound is great. Enjoy!
And be sure to read the first couple of comments too because I absolutely love a certain photo of folks who learned a new fact via the set. 🙂
Do you know what gives you joy?
Whatever it is, or whomever or however, can you access it? Can you lean into it? Can you laugh in its presence? Can you rest in it? Can you marvel about it?
What is it? Can you recall it right now?
Sometimes, I find that helpful. And sometimes, we’re fortunate when joy just shows up, and rather than practicing recall, we can simply receive it.
What a gift that is.
Today I will be honest about something:
For a whole year now, I have been living and carrying three different, big stressors. Whew. And in the midst of these, a fourth keeps emerging too: Too often, I don’t sleep enough. I am writing this at 3am. (But don’t worry, writing this will help me sleep rather than take more away. I’m also going to sleep in).
In the midst of all of this, I also marvel sometimes… because side by side with these big challenges, the last twelve months have also revealed so much joy. Beautiful connections, wonderful hopes, and an ongoing sense of knowing and choosing the very forms of calling that seem to be choosing me.
What a lovely paradox that is. No need to downplay the stressors here — they’re challenging — but also… (how wonderful to say, “but also…”) they are accompanied by joy too. And I feel fortunate to know that. And sometimes, these gifts come as a wonderful surprise as well.
Here are some lovely, poetic words from Mary Oliver:
Don’t Hesitate
If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happened better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb. (Don’t Hesitate)
Yes!
I wonder, which ongoing stories in our lives need this posture from us?
Don’t hesitate!
(Also, don’t hesitate to go back to bed. Doing that now….)
Here’s a silly quip that has stayed with me for many years:
Remember well, and bear in mind that a jaybird’s tail sticks out behind.
It’s goofy. But the context of the quote has stayed with me the most. My surrogate Dad David used to say this to me, especially when I was anxious about something. He would often follow it by saying,
“There are some things you can always count on.”
And sometimes, he would follow it more. Referencing himself and Amy, his wife, he would add,
“There are two people in New Albany, Indiana who love you very much.”
Remember well, and bear in mind that a jaybird’s tail sticks out behind.
From time to time, I still think this phrase to myself. Sometimes, I share it with others.
I wonder, which ongoing stories in our lives need this posture from us?
It’s pretty rare for a Facebook post to have more shares than likes, but that’s what the stats currently tell me about a post I made last week: As of now, there are 63 likes, but there are 113 shares.
I follow the MisterRogersQuotes handle on Twitter, so my screens receive daily quotes from Fred Rogers. I’m glad for that. Occasionally, I’ll screenshot one on my phone and then share it to Facebook also. That’s what I did last week.
He says,
“Some days, doing ‘the best we can’ may still fall short of what we would like to be able to do, but life isn’t perfect — on any front — and doing what we can with what we have is the most we should expect of ourselves or anyone else.”
In an screenshotted image, this simple but very helpful quote spread fast on Facebook. And I realized, people are really longing for this kind of grace, hoping to stand in the presence of people who convey, “‘the best you can do’ is truly enough.” And, of course, we need to hear that we’re worth loving and are ourselves ‘enough’ even when ‘the best we can do’ falls short as well. This is true when circumstances inhibit us or when we fail. Our worth and acceptance need not be conditioned on ‘the best we can do.’ Worth and acceptance can be unconditional. This is grace.
It seems that a large and quick number of shares reveal that we need to hear this message again.
So I wonder, which ongoing stories in our lives need this posture from us?
Years ago, when it was still on Netflix, I would occasionally watch the show Intervention. Do any of you remember that show? It was originally on A&E.
On the show, families worked with interventionists to implement an intervention to address and confront the addiction of a particular family member. Family members and close friends would gather together, express love for their family member, name the ways that the addiction had harmed them personally, and share what they were going to change in relationship to the addiction. Then, ultimately, they tried to convince their family member to go to treatment. That very day, in fact.
The interventionists often helped the larger family choose wellness for themselves. Too often, they had let their health go by the wayside. They needed to get well for themselves. Their wellness might also create conditions for their family member to choose the same. I remember Jeff VanVonderen, one of the interventionists, encouraging the families to take a particular posture toward their member with an addiction. He modeled this statement for them, saying,
“I want you to get well, but I’m going to get well whether you do or not.”
All these years later, while taking a walk, this phrase suddenly popped into my mind again. I needed it. It’s a helpful one — in cases of addiction, yes — but also in regard to many kinds of challenges or conflicts.
“I want you to get well, but I’m going to get well whether you do or not.”
Years ago, I did a lot of studying of Family Systems Theory. This area of study explores the ways that communities function — families, workplaces, religious communities, schools — and considers how self-differentiated members can impact the larger health of these communities. This doesn’t involve internalizing the need-for-health of the whole organization. This doesn’t involve staying unwell, holding the stress of the organization, or continuously trying to convince the community that it needs help. It often involves prioritizing one’s own health.
“I want you to get well, but I’m going to get well whether you do or not.”
When we do this, we definitely move toward health. Sometimes, others will never choose it, and we need to choose it for ourselves. But sometimes, a surprising thing happens too. That choice adds additional health to the family, community, or organization (not saving it, or taking it on, but a healthy side effect) and sometimes, others begin to choose it too.
So I wonder, what ongoing stories in our lives need this posture from us?
“I want you to get well, but I’m going to get well whether you do or not.”
Hello, friends. A different kind of story today!
Over the weekend, the Toledo Blade Newspaper ran an article about the Michigan Nones and Dones community. If you’ve ever wondered what we’re up to with this community vision, this is a fantastic description.
Enjoy!
‘Nones and Dones’ Help Conflicted Reconnect to Their Spiritual Side
Hooboy, I did not feel great last week. I had a number of wonderful things in my days, but physically, I became sick in a way that just seemed to plummet more and more throughout the week. I can’t remember the last time I felt quite like that. On Saturday, things began to turn around. I had the most wonderful springboard for it:
S and J came over, bearing gifts of tea and scones.
We had already planned this. Well, sort of. We had put out some feelers to the Michigan Nones and Dones community the week before, wondering if we might have a potluck together, but I didn’t hear much interest. And feeling the way I did, I didn’t follow through much beyond that.
But S just picked up on it all. Somehow, she sensed that I was feeling really badly. “Should J and I come over and take care of our Renee?”
I said yes to that, and they really did! With so much intention, they brought tea and blueberry scones that they had personally made. I extended the spread with coffee, fruit, and fresh tomatoes from the garden. And for two hours, our conversation danced around laughter, wisdom, and personal sharing.
It’s amazing how community relationships can impact our bodies. This moment was nothing short of good medicine.
This week, I am totally back on the up and up.
Grateful for elders.
Grateful for friends.
Grateful for tables of food.
Grateful for care.
Grateful to be back in the land of the living this week!
I was walking in downtown Ann Arbor when I crossed the street and encountered a man holding a sign.
AMERICA
Welcomes
IMMIGRANTS
Including my
ANCESTORS
I began to pass by him and a made a round of applause gesture in affirmation of what he was doing. But then, I decided to stop. I requested his permission for a photo and asked if I could share about this on my blog. “Sure!” he said enthusiastically.
His name is Kent Bourland, and it was wonderful to take a little time to get to know him. I asked him, “What motivates you to do this?”
He said, “I’m out here almost every day. And I will be out here almost every day until all the migrant children are reunited with their parents. Every single one.” Some of his other signs address these separations directly.
I asked him why he chose to act in this way. Arguably, in response to his sign, America isn’t welcoming of immigrants right now, at least on the whole. He said that he wants to counter the narratives behind that.
“You know, I decided to do this because I got tired of feeling like there was nothing I could do.” He found something he could do uniquely, and in doing so, he has started a lot of conversations and encouraged more forms of action.
I noticed he was wearing a suit. “Gracious, you must be really hot,” I said, also noticing that water bottles were sticking out of his suit pockets.
“Yeah, I want to come dressed like this because I don’t want anyone to write me off saying, ‘Oh, he’s just some hippie.'” Kent Bourland is outside holding signs, building empathy and changing perspectives.
“You know, I decided to do this because I got tired of feeling like there was nothing I could do.”
I wonder what we can uniquely do.
It’s still August, and I want to continue doing some storytelling throughout the month. As I think about that, I find myself pondering this… Sometimes, the small stories of our day carry a great deal of meaning. I’m learning to trust these and and more.
And by that, I mean that small, storied moments can carry us through when we’re looking for direction. They can give us sustenance when we’re experiencing a time of stress. Part of the trust involves expecting their arrival, even if you can’t predict which stories will show up.
Yesterday morning, I was finishing up my preparation for leading worship. All summer, I’ve been filling in at Northside Presbyterian Church in Ann Arbor (this opportunity has been such a gift) as their pastor and my good friend is experiencing a well-deserved Sabbatical. Just before leaving the house, an idea popped into my mind, and I decided to follow it. On my way out the door, I put some paper and colored pencils in a bag.
I had prepared a sermon based on this beautiful text from Paul,
“But we were gentle among you, like a nurse tenderly caring for her own children. So deeply do we care for you that we were determined to share with you, not only the gospel of God, but also our own selves, because you have become very dear to us.”
– 1 Thessalonians 2:7-8
We left some space during that sermon to voice aloud the names of people who have become very dear to us. People who have formed us… People whom we’ve participated in forming… as we’re all forming each other all the time.
But after voicing these names aloud, we had a time where we wrote down these names and placed them on the communion table. We made that table very messy with names! People turned the pages down, but you can see how many names were written, and with colored pencils strewn about too.
This is a small story that carries a lot of meaning.
–Renee Roederer I’ll be writing about small stories all week!
I’ve been thinking a great deal about stories and have decided to tell some here during the month of August. It’s easy for us to recall stories that are especially hilarious or meaningful, but sometimes, the small stories sustain us in special ways.
Like last Saturday.
I was at the Ann Arbor Farmers Market, when I saw a student I know, working at one of the booths.
“Wanna paint me?” I heard.
“Okay!” I responded with some enthusiasm.
This student had a lot of face paint and wanted me to create whatever I’d like. I said, “I’m not a very good painter.”
“That’s okay,” the student responded. “You can make whatever you want. It’s just about connection and bonding.”
That was a sweet thing to say and a great way to frame it. So I painted, and we connected and bonded.
This is the joy of small stories.
Smuggling Grace 