My inside voice

I wasn't feeling so well that morning. Not sick, but not up to par. Not at full strength. But as the teacher I still needed to control the room full of third graders and hopefully to teach them something. 

I may have flicked the lights - in those days a common trick to get attention. At any rate, I began in barely more than a whisper to explain to my students that I needed their help in being extra attentive because I wasn't able to speak very loudly.

To my delight, it worked. How cool! They got serious and even lowered their tones to match mine. It worked so well, in fact, that I decided I should remember this tactic.

...

Is there still some lesson for me today?  For me, the friend, the neighbor, the mentor, the writer, the influencer? In the classroom that morning, I learned that sometimes...  maybe rarely, but maybe  at least once in a great while... silence can speak louder than noise.  

Actually maybe not so rarely. That being the case, could my soft voice (or my silence) be as effective (or maybe even more effective) than my loud voice? Could my whisper cut through the noise better than a strong, bold statement?

I want to be a truth-teller, but maybe that doesn't always have to be with bold, strong statements. Maybe there should be more whispers of affirmation and encouragement from these lips. Certainly I could be using a soft voice more than I do - a voice that is kind and gentle rather than strong and persuasive. I'm not so confident in my ability to be strong and persuasive anyway.

So...  how about I practice using my inside voice? My gentle voice.  Maybe, just maybe, it will cut through the noise and maybe even calm the chaos. And quite possibly it will speak peace to ears that are aching from the surrounding din.

...  Edited and reprinted from my early days of blogging

Two parents, two processions

 1996

My first time to ride "up front" in a funeral procession

We slowed down coming into town.

But what’s this…?

People on the sidewalks stopped in their tracks, some with hands on hearts, waiting for the procession to pass

Caught me totally off-guard.

They didn’t even know who died, but they paused in respect.

I was moved. 

...

2020

Same route, pulling onto the highway from the same church, heading to the same cemetery.

Settling into the steady moderate pace when suddenly... 

A commotion… as a big pick-up truck comes flying by the cars in the procession... until he is forced to squeeze in...  between the hearse and my brother’s car just ahead of us. 

So much for a quiet peaceful ride to the cemetery behind the hearse carrying my mom’s body.  Instead we watched intermittent brake lights as he tried to get around that bothersome hearse.  

I guess he was in a hurry.  

Must have had somewhere important to be.

No time for interruptions.

No time to pause and respect a human life.

...

Different years

Different attitudes

Finishing well

Did you ever notice how life can get in the way of our goals?

…of what we think we should do with our life?

Strange but true.

Not only life…  but death can also get in the way of goals.

Not just in the obvious way, but even a death in the family can cause a sudden shake-up to our schedule and what we think we’re supposed to do with our time.

We experienced a death in the family this week.  

My schedule got flipped upside down.  

Plans and appointments got changed.

Goals and disciplines went out the window…  at least some of them.

…

My mom finished her life goals this week. At 92, she was ready to go.  Heaven was her next goal.  She had planned her funeral service and even pre-planned it… meaning she had pre-paid for her funeral package and all the details on file.  For months and years she planned and pre-planned and then RE-planned…  

When she was able to focus on life and living, her main goal and objective was to love people and serve them.  Serve them food if possible, but if she didn’t have food to offer, she’d find something else.  

When she ran out of things to do, she would re-visit her funeral plans. “Is there anything more I should do…?”

Sometimes she got confused between focusing on life or death.  So in our daily phone calls, she might start through her mental list: 

• I’d like to contact so-and-so.  
• I want to take care of this or that. 
• Did we get this figured out for the funeral?
• Maybe I can offer to sing for my friend - or pray for her. 
• I need some treats that I can share with the other residents.

She wanted to finish well.

…

Some days I get confused about my focus, too. 

How do I choose between the urgent and the important?  

How do I adjust my goals for the week while trying to plan a funeral during a pandemic?  

What will happen to my monthly goals? 

Expectations need to be adjusted - obviously. 

I need to take care of my own physical, mental, and emotional health.  

I want to be flexible but I also want to be intentional about the important stuff.   

With the month running out of days, I still want to finish well.

Fortunately I had a good example. 

Somber day, somber year

Feels like a somber 4th this year.

Feels like a somber year.

So unusual

Weird

Surreal

No friends gathering in the back yard tonight to view the fireworks...

Because …  no fireworks show this year

No gathering with family for months now

No snuggling with grandkids…

...

I’ve always been grateful to be an American.

I used to be proud…

But this year, I am humbled and sad.

I am embarrassed about how little I really knew about the history of my country.

And so this Fourth of July finds me more serious.

• Somber
• Quieter - well, except for fireworks exploding every night for weeks now!
• More thoughtful
• More intentional
• Choosing to listen to voices that I have not bothered to hear before
• Choosing to listen and learn
• Noticing how I have benefited from racism
• Processing how to handle my privilege

...

Speaking of privilege... 

Takes me back to my years in church leadership.

I used to preach sermons about a proper attitude about our blessings.

I used to sign my letters with the closing, "Blessed to be a blessing"

Because I really believed that I was...  blessed SO THAT I could be a blessing.

And I still believe that.  

I still want to use my blessings to bless other people.

That's the kind of person I want to be.

"With great blessing

comes great responsibility..."

But there was so much I did not realize.

It had not occurred to me that some of my blessings and some of my privilege came at such an unfair cost to others.  Well, maybe I knew parts of it.  Bits and pieces.  But maybe I had not yet taken time to get quiet and somber enough to sit under the truth that so many of our systems are cruel and unjust.  

Methinks this processing will be a LONG journey.  

But I have started.

…

On this day commemorating freedom and independence, I am embarking on a quest to learn how to stand for freedom for those Americans whose skin is darker than mine.  

I have much to learn.

I wish I had known better sooner.

I wish I were farther along.

But I am where I am.

And I can only start where I am.

Now I choose to know better. 

... so that I can do better.

My first Juneteenth

One of my first thoughts this morning was to ponder how to commemorate this day.

This date. This event of Juneteenth that I had not even heard of until we moved here three years ago.  I've learned so much in these three years - and even more in these last few weeks.  Mostly I've discovered that there is so,  SO much I don't know.

So I found myself making a commitment a few weeks ago - to learn.
I didn't even know where to start, but as soon as I began paying attention, the resources were suddenly coming at me from all directions!

So yes, today is important.
My daughter says it so well and is helping me.
Her words describe my heart - and so I am borrowing them and sharing them.
And I am joining her in honoring this day.
My first Juneteenth.

My first Juneteenth

by Stacy Brown

My heart is heavy today.

This is my first Juneteenth.

I wasn't taught about this in school.

I didn't hear about this in church.

I didn't grow up discussing this with friends.

My ignorance wasn't all my fault,

but it's all my responsibility to fix it.

Someday I'll celebrate Juneteenth,

but this year I'm starting

with humbly and solemnly honoring it:

Mourning so many horrors, of past and present,

that white washed history has swept under the rug, 

acknowledging my own ignorance and bias,

and committing to doing whatever I can to do better going forward.

Today is my first Juneteenth.

It won't be my last.

Thank you, thank you, Stacy, for giving voice to my heart.
But how does one honor such a momentous event?

The one instruction that keeps coming back to my mind... is to listen.
To really listen.
Listen and learn.
Read black authors
Hear black voices.

And so I am.
I have begun and I will continue.
One step at a time
One day at a time.
Starting on this day, my first Juneteenth...