Embracing

At small group tonight, we covered part of Matthew 16. Jesus talks about embracing the suffering in life and dying to ourselves, becoming more selfless, less self centered.

Why embrace suffering? I think one of the main points is learning empathy for your fellow human beings. Nothing unites us like suffering.

On my way home I tuned into NPR. They were talking to an elderly woman. She is trying to survive on Social Security, Medicare, and Food Stamps. Her housing costs are higher than her Social Security earnings. The only food she has comes from her monthly food stamp allotment and what she can gather from a local food pantry. She’s behind on her rent. Medicare doesn’t cover copays, and neither can she.

She stated that purchasing a bar of soap would be a luxury most months. That hit home. We’ve been donating things like soap for almost a year now to local shelters. I always feel like it’s not enough, or that we’re flooding them with silly soap, but maybe not.

The interviewer went on to ask her about the current state of our country. You see, her parents had survived the Great Depression, and she remembers living through World War II, when times were likely tougher. She said, back then, people pulled together as communities. Those who had more, shared. It wasn’t perfect, but she’s not seeing that kind of thing now, not on such a wide scale, not with such selflessness.

Prodded further she shared that she believed we’ve undergone too wide of a disconnect between the ‘haves’ and ‘have nots’. She said we’re too afraid of one another. Neighbors don’t even check in on neighbors. Fear of so many things, terrorism, violence, money scams, holds us back from helping one another.

I couldn’t help but think, this was exactly what Jesus was talking about. We fear the suffering. As a friend of mine would say, we insulate ourselves, comfort our own lives.

Because we have not suffered along side the have-nots, we have a disconnect. We lose any empathy. We don’t want to see other people’s problems because we seem to think that trouble might be contagious.

I don’t think Jesus was necessarily saying that those that have plenty should give it all up so they can understand the poor. I think he was saying that, when trouble hits, learn from it. When it hits other people, come along side them, not just to help, but to learn and experience it. Learn to have that empathy so you’re not afraid but empowered to give when and what you can. I think empathy kills off some of that fear too. In its absense, love and community can grow. It would be nice to live in a world where a 50¢ bar of soap isn’t a luxury.

What Do I Want to Be?

I've posted similar things before, but my wife is getting understandably anxious with me regarding my future career choices. I don't blame her, but I also don't feel like I have a clear path laid out before me.

She asked me this weekend to think about when I was a teenager. Her question was, "When someone would ask you what you want to be when you grow up, what did you answer?" My response is, I've already done all that.

When I was in first grade, my doodling hobby caught the eye of the art teacher. They entered a poster I drew into some contest, and it won. Ironically, it was draw a poster depicting what you want to be when you grow up. At that point, I could only imagine being a waiter. I don't know why. The attention I received from that one drawing convinced me that I wanted to be an artist.

Illustration as always my thing. I did tons of projects all throughout elementary and high school. My college portfolio was illustration heavy, but when I actually got into college, I saw that it would be easier to get into graphic design. Graphic design meant computers and pay checks. Illustration meant years of being a starving artist, struggling to make a name for myself.

A graphic artist can still make a name for himself, but that's never what it was about for me. I wanted to do my thing, be creative in whatever way appealed to me at the time. If I could get a creative job that paid the bills, allowed me to have a "normal" life with a wife, house and kids, that was my goal. Instructors would often warn against newspaper jobs. They said those types of jobs only allowed you to be someone else's hands in exchange for a steady paycheck. Seemed like a perfect fit for me.

I still had dreams and aspirations. Most of them were more personal (see wife, kids, house). I also wanted to work for a good company. If I was going to work in the newspaper field, I wanted to work for the best in this area, and that was The Flint Journal. I achieved all that. Before the company decided to drop all of it's current artists, I often thought that I had already lived and realized all my aspirations. It was something to be happy about.

That's kind of flipped on me now.

The print industry, in Michigan at least, has shrank. The companies that are still in the running are looking for people to do a ton of work, bend over backwards on scheduling at the drop of a hat, work in "catch all" departments, and do all of this for pay that isn't much higher than your average fast food job. I've worked in those situations before. That's usually how you get into the business. It's not an environment that lends itself well to family people. There's guaranteed stress, and few moments of happiness or even creativity.

I don't think it's a totally lost line of work. I just haven't come across many opportunities, even for worst case scenario jobs, in the past year. I'll never stop being a creative, artistic person, I'll always do my thing, but it just seems like this career path has come to an abrupt dead end. Maybe it's just taking me through some bad neighborhoods right now.

So my wife wants to know what I want to do now. What would make me happy? What would I want to do every day until I retire or beyond? I wish there were easy answers.

I think I can narrow it down to two choices. One would likely be difficult. It's not likely to go smoothly, but I'd be happy. The other would be relatively easy, it would probably hold a lot of security and an easy paycheck, but I wouldn't be in love with it. It would be something I slog through. I have no problem slogging if it means my kids get to eat and have a roof over their heads.

Quite frankly, the first option terrifies me. Not because I'd dislike it. I'm afraid of what certain people would think. I'm afraid there might not be a huge market for this career. It's a leap, you could say, that really doesn't have anything to do with my ability.

So, I'm in turmoil today. What do I want to be now that I've already grown up?

I welcome any advice.

2010 Scrapbook/Journal

About a year before Owen was born, I started a journal type scrapbook to keep a record of what life was like for Heidi and I. Every year since, I've tried to build and improve on the idea. At the beginning of each year, I redesign the layout. I keep a consistent look throughout, but try to separate each month in some way (usually by changing the color scheme). I try to write a new entry at least once a week. The subject matter can be just about anything that pops into my head at the time, whatever I think is important or worth remembering. I include photos, scans of any special material I want to highlight. I include movie and book reviews, quotes from various sources that I find inspirational or timely. I try to include any major news events, but I try to keep things positive when I can. The last few pages of each monthly section are dedicated to entertainment, which television shows we're enjoying, more in-depth reviews.

I do this for two reasons: The obvious being my own benefit, so I can look back on what life was like. The true motivation was to provide a record for my kids. My mother kept a small journal for much of my childhood. It's one of my prized possessions. It gives me a window into her heart and the past. It taught me a lot about her. I want my kids to know me too. I want them to understand our struggles and our triumphs. I hope it gives them some insight into the things we find important especially themselves.

I want to avoid something I encountered with my dad just a few years ago. He was telling me a story one day, and he mentioned something I found shocking, something I never knew about him. The story, which I won't go into detail about here, revealed a side of my father that I never knew concerning his rebel, teenaged past. I just kept thinking, why haven't I heard this before? Why was this side of him hidden from me? Part of me wants to avoid some of that with my kids.

I've created these journals almost exclusively in digital form. For a few years, I would print each section once a month and organize them in scrapbook type books. That's gotten too expensive for our current budget. I use page layout software and Photoshop. I get a lot of images from the internet to make things more interesting when I feel like it.

This year's journal design was heavily influenced by Target's current designs. Specifically, I liked the way the Target logo was repeated on a container of baby wipes.

If you click on the above images, you can view them closer to 100%. I don't mind you reading what's on these pages. Some of it might be somewhat personal, but I chose these pages specifically. I know what's on them.

Crying Out to Santa Claus

The following was actually part of a scrapbook/journal I keep for my kids every month. I thought I'd share it.

We took the boys to Genesee Valley mall Wednesday. Heidi had a day off. They played in the play area for about an hour. Then we set out for lunch in the food court.

We came upon their Santa set up. No one was there at that moment. Santa and the photo lady waved at us. Then Owen noticed Santa. He immediately started straining against Heidi’s grasp, stretching as close as he could. We were about 25 feet away. He started shouting his Christmas list at Santa, “I want a square Bakugan. A red one and a brown one. I want a Megatron and Bulk Head.” We couldn’t help but laugh. We explained to him that he needed to actually sit on Santa’s lap, but we couldn’t do it that day.

The malls are another example of a dying business model that doesn’t seem to want to change to save itself. They still charge way too much to visit Santa. They ban taking your own photos. They almost insist on the purchase of their photos. The cheapest mall photo we found was a 5x7 for $13. No thanks.

Even if saving their own image were off the table, they could be kind and take into consideration that many families are financially strapped this year. No such luck.

We’re planning on a Santa visit out in Lapeer this coming Tuesday. For $5 both of our kids can see Santa and Mrs. Claus. They take a 4x6 photo for us, and we can take as many other photos as we want.

It was fun to watch the other kids sitting on Santa’s lap. We had a good view from the food court. They’d shyly share their lists. You could see how timid each kid initially was. Santa would set them down, hand them a coloring book, and this love would break out over them. You could see it physically happen. They’d lose all fear. Their arms would fly up to hug Santa. It was great.

It finally dumped snow on us Wednesday night. I decided to take the boys out for a few minutes Thursday afternoon. It was cold though, about 15˚.

Owen tried to do all of the warm weather activities he had been doing in recent months, often sitting on snow covered riding toys. He was wet and cold very soon.

Gage refused to wear his mittens. He slowly walked around the backyard. He grabbed a few bare handed scoops of snow, clearly disliking it. After about five minutes, he walked into the middle of the grassed portion of our backyard, looked up at me and started crying.

I took him inside, where he started to cry harder. He wanted to be outside. It was like he was protesting reality. He was told he could go outside, but the outside I had taken him to was a harsh, cold place that wasn’t fun to be in.

I tried to calm both kids with some hot cocoa, but it was too hot. I just couldn’t win.