Earlier this week I ventured down Jackson Ave. in the Old City section of Knoxville, Tennessee for lunch. I enjoy the architecture, variety, and places that make Knoxville feel like home.
After lunch, I made my way to the loo, and while there, I noticed the writing on the stall door. It was one of those things that captured your attention. The funny thing about it is that days later, I’m still thinking about it.
The quote emblazoned on the stall was this, “The truth does not require your belief to be true, but a lie does!”
My mind has had that thought rattling around for days now. What does our belief stand on? Are you willing to search for its truth, not just blindly believe what the masses tell you to believe? Are there any free thinkers still in existence?
These questions puzzle me. It seems everyone is ready to jump on this bandwagon or another without examining the facts. The things that are put before us seem to be manufactured facts and not reality. I’m not sure the public even knows what reality looks like. The world appears to be manipulated by Photo-shopped images and soundbites.
I am usually a very optimistic person and I’m trying to remain so. I believe in amplified thought, our energy amplifies the thoughts we hold. If we hold negative thoughts, negativity becomes attracted to us. There is so much negativity in the world right now and it is amplified over and over again. If we continually focus on the negative, the negative is all we will ever see. I choose every day to look for the positive.
I try to make the best choices based on the information I have been able to verify. I strive to raise my awareness, I’m looking for the best-case scenario. I do know that growth happens in uncomfortable places. I think uncomfortable is on the horizon for us all. It is my hope that the growth that comes from it will be good for us all.
You are free to believe however you choose, I force my beliefs on no one. My hope is the God I believe in, a God of love, and peace. He is who will guide my steps. No matter what the future holds, I will continue to love my fellow humans on this earth, the ones like me, the ones not like me, and everyone in between.
I love the quote by Martin Luther King, Jr. that states Love is the answer to hate: “Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that”.
Let’s be the answer to hate, lies, and discontent. Let’s love people well.
Music has always touched a place in my soul that most of the world can’t reach. It touches that part of me that I try to keep under lock and key, the parts I rarely let others see.
Music is the soothing of the savage beast and lifting of my spirit and setting it free. I am not musical in any sense of the word, yet I appreciate it in ways I feel in the core of my being. It seems strange to say but there have been times when the music was a lifeline. Music seemed to be the only thing that kept me grounded on this earth.
Depression is not something I talk about often, but at this time of year it can’t be ignored. This time of year is especially, is hard for me, as it is for many people. There are so many memories associated with the season.
For me, it is all of December, not only Christmas. Andy and I met in December, his birthday is in December one of my most cherished memories is the 2000 New Year’s Eve. So the loneliness hits harder, making me long for physical touch and true human connection more than ever. At the same time, I feel if someone truly held me close I’d crumple into a mess of carefully held together emotions that no one could bear to experience. I’m a walking oxymoron.
I was recently talking with a dear friend about depression and its demonic grip on the soul. That conversation had me looking at my life without the rose colored glasses we tend to see our past through. I have had some very dark seasons in my life, seasons that left me broken and at the time I thought shattered beyond repair.
I don’t lean on medication when my depression hits, I lean on music, friends, therapy and most of all God. I’m not saying don’t take meds, I’m just saying that’s not my path. Everyone has to find what works for them. If you are experiencing darkness at this time of year, you are not alone. Talk with someone you trust, find a counselor. If the feelings become overwhelming dial or text 988 for the suicide hotline.
I realized that the times when my life seemed the darkest, the hardest to bear, the most lonely were the season of my life where the music had disappeared and went unheard. I believe the God touches our soul with tinkling bells and tender notes that speak to our entire mind with a healing in a way nothing else does. The music you love moves you.
Studies have shown that music lowers stress. People who listen to positive upbeat music manage their emotions better and recover from stress faster. There have also been studies showing it improves memory function. One study even found that music can help manage pain.
According to ucf.edu/pegasus/your-brain-on-music/ music can change your ability to perceive time, reduce seizures, make you a better communicator, make you stronger, boost your immune system, assist in repairing brain damage, make you smarter, evoke memories and more. Music can release dopamine and give you a euphoric feeling better than drugs. The benefits of music goes on and on.
Not so long ago, I was going through the motions of what I thought people expected of me. Blinded by the past and paralyzed by the thought of a future alone, unable to be in the present moment. Inside I felt alone and dark, there was no light, just blackness.
I heard a guitar from across the way and it was as if the music flipped a switch inside my soul. In an instant there was light, and I remembered who I am. Now, it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. I’ve done a lot of work on me. The music gave me the boost I needed to break through the fog and it encourages me every day.
I’m still working on just being in the present. I am learning how to live each day as it comes and I am thankful, so very thankful for the music.
There is a Bonnie Raitt tune, “Just Like That” and it has a verse that immediately hit home with me.
I spent so long in darkness Never thought the night would end But somehow grace has found me And I had to let him in.
Dear reader, just know it is ok to hurt, it is ok to feel all the feelings, you are never alone. We all hurt and while everything may look great on the surface, other people are hurting too, so be kind.
Me, Daddy Homer and my best friend Wendy – Circa 1969
Children are great observers of all that goes on in their world. They absorb things like a sponge. Adults often think that children won’t be affected by what the grownups do, but that is far from the case.
While kids see and soak up all that is going on around them, they are not mature enough to properly interpret what they see and feel. This can lead to wounds that run deep, especially when there is no one to help them correctly process what they see and feel.
After my adoption at 4, we lived in Illinois until I was 7. For those first few years after the adoption, things were okay. I enjoyed being a kid, for the most part. The age difference between my new siblings and myself made me feel like an only child. I think I was a likable kid, I was best friends with the little boy who lived behind us and with another little girl, who like me had been adopted. I had cousins who visited often, were close to my age and we had lots of fun together and I loved them all.
Not long after my adoption my birth mom moved in across the street with my older sister. That sounds strange, right? It was both good and confusing.
I suppose I should interject here and say that after my adoption, I knew what had happened, my adoption wasn’t ever a secret from me. I wasn’t allowed to call her mommy anymore, but I knew she was my birth mother and she always tried to live close to us. Which again, was both good and confusing.
My new Sissy got married and moved to Alaska, my new Brother went into the Army and was stationed in Germany.
The vibe in my house became tense around the time the older kids were close to moving out. As a kid, you don’t know exactly what is going on between the grownups in your house, but you hear things and pick up on the unpleasant feelings. You know things aren’t what they should be and you piece things together, your picture may not be quite right, but it is your reality. I knew trouble brewed and just three years after my adoption, the marriage of my new mom and dad fell apart.
This prompted my new mom to move to Kentucky where both sides of my family were from. My Daddy built my Mommy a house, but he didn’t come to live with us in it. He brought me presents for holidays and birthdays, but was never there for the cake. I remember crying, wondering why he didn’t want to spend time with me.
When we lived in Illinois we would sit together in his recliner and watch Hee Haw together. I felt safe, I felt special, I felt like a Daddy’s girl. He was there and I loved him deeply.
Then he wasn’t there. My Daddy’s girl phase was shortlived. I was seven, and I thought it was my fault that yet another person I loved cast me aside. From the time I was seven until Daddy died when I was ten, I saw him a handful of times, and it broke my little heart. Once again I was fatherless.
On the day Daddy Homer died, I knew I would never be a Daddy’s girl, never have a father who would watch me grow up, cheer me on, be proud of me on graduation day, or walk me down the aisle, I vividly remember because I lost two fathers that day.
I was in 5th grade. My birth mother came to the school to get me, in the middle of the day, and that never happened. I always rode the bus home. I remember being nervous when I got in the car, I was excited and anxious, I knew something was up, but couldn’t figure out what it was.
She told me she had something to tell me. I don’t think it was easy for her, she seemed to rush through it as she said Daddy Homer had a massive heart attack and died. I just remember feeling numb and what sounded like bees buzzing in my ears as I tried to make sense of it.
After several minutes of quiet, I had to ask a question that I felt led to hope. What about my birth father? I had wondered about him often; if he knew about me; if he cared about me; where was he? We had had conversations about my birth father before, I would ask questions and she would answer. Did I looked like him (I have his mouth); what does he look like (he was 6’3″ and thin, stawberry blond, ruddy complexion, smile that would light up a room); things like that. I always enjoyed those talks, it connected me to family somehow. I wanted to know where he was in all this? If I would ever know him?
Me with my birth parents, Floe Smiddy and James Monroe – Circa 1967 One of only three photos I have of my birth father.
I think we all long to know about our lineage. We want to know where we come from, what’s our family history? We long to be connected to something larger than ourselves. I think that is why there are so many verses in the Bible about who begat whom. And why Ancestory.com has such a huge following.
But back to my story, after the questions about my birth father poured out, my world crashed again when I asked if I would ever meet my birth father and she told me no, she was sorry, but that he had died too. Not only had he died, he had died a violent death from a gunshot in a bar fight.
He was dead. No reunion, no stories about how he had loved me from afar, he would never know me, never be proud of me, never love me. And BOOM, just like that, a little girl’s childhood dreams of having a Daddy, being Daddy’s little girl vanished.
My hurt was quiet and deep. Honestly, it hurts me to this day. Father’s Day became a day I ignored.
I longed for a traditional family, one that made sense. I had a hard time explaining my family tree to my friends. Heck, I still have a hard time explaining my family tree.
I struggled with resentment, abandonment issues and people-pleasing. That feeling of restlessness and not fitting in plagued me. I couldn’t make sense of the pain inside me. It would be an ongoing struggle throughout my life.
In high school my best friend and her family loved on me and took me to church with them. They introduced me to a Daddy who will never leave me.
In John 14:18 Jesus says; “I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you.” He sees me, lost without a father.
2 Corinthians 6:18 And,“I will be a Father to you, and you will be my sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty.” He knows I need Him, He knows I need the feeling of family.
I didn’t know at the time just how much I would need that unconditional love that God offers, but I am so glad I accepted it. I can’t imagine how I would have made it through life without being able to rely on God’s love for me. As I said in a previous blog, my story has many chapters and in all those chapters I needed something I could rely on.
Have a railed against God? Yes! Have I complained and cried and asked for things to be different? Yes! Have I blamed God? Yes! Have I been angry with God? Yes! I am human, I make mistakes, I screw things up, I get things wrong. We all do.
Being a child of God is NOT about BEING perfect, it is about acknowledging that YOU AREN”T PERFECT and turning your life over to the One who is, who can help you carry your burdens and insecurities, listen to your troubles and guide you through the deepest, scariest wilderness into the light.
My life has been a wilderness in a lot of ways. I have gone waaaay off the rails, but He has always guided me back. I will never be perfect this side of heaven and God knows that. He knows and He loves me anyway. God is love. And love is what He wants from you.
“Moral outrage is the opposite of God; it only divides and separates what God wants for us, which is to be united in kinship. Moral outrage doesn’t lead us to solutions – it keeps us from them. It keeps us from moving forward toward a fuller, more compassionate response to members of our community who belong to us, no matter what they’ve done.”
You see, if I am outraged that I missed out on being a Daddy’s girl, if I hold on to that hurt and anger, if I hold on to that outrage over anything someone else does, it separates me from God, not by His doing, by my own. It becomes me pulling away from God and not moving forward. God wants us to be near Him, He wants us to find solutions through Him and love others no matter what they’ve done.
Sometimes we become so caught up in religion and the “right way” to do things we forget, it is not about the building or the pastor or even the service, it is about the LOVE. How we walk with and care for each other. God is Love. God loves everyone. He calls us to love everyone. So I will leave you with this verse.
John 13:34 – A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.
2/8/2023 I received a message from someone who has the same DNA. Turns out I have a family I didn’t know anything about. I haven’t met them yet, but I’m looking forward to it. Hopefully it will be soon. That will be another story.
It has been a long while since I’ve posted. My introduction into the world of nonprofits has been a learning experience and while I sometimes still feel like a babe in the woods, I also feel like I have found my tribe. The people of Compassion Coalition are not only my coworkers, they are my family. We pray together, talk about what matters and strive daily to make Knoxville a better place for EVERYONE to live.
I knew they were my tribe from the first hour I began working with them. They get me. I’m an odd duck, so that’s amazing in itself. They also help me be the best version of myself and I enjoy going to work EVERY SINGLE DAY. That is a blessing from God. Nothing worthwhile is easy, and sometimes things are tough, we operate on a shoestring budget, fundraising can be hard, foundations and churches close, coalition members lose funding and are unable to give, yet I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, what we do matters.
It seems, all of my life experience thus far brought me to a place where all of my gifts can be used and appreciated. My people skills, artistic skills, organizational skills but most importantly my spiritual skills. My gift has always been one of encouragement. This position has given me the opportunity to connect with people on a deeper level, hear their story, share hope and help.
While it has been a busy two years, it has also been a period of growth. Stretching my mind, my heart and soul to care more, love deeper and seek justice. This didn’t happen by chance, this job, these people, they care. They care beyond anything I have ever experienced before, and not just for the people they know, their hearts ache for the hurting and marginalized. They help people. People in churches, people on the street, people in the pews and outside the church walls. They help churches cross denominational lines and break down barriers and work together to find common and sometimes uncommon solutions to problems in the community. They connect social work with church work, like nothing I’ve ever witnessed before, yet they are one of the most underutilized community/church resources in town.
Grant Standefer, Jessica Bocangel, Charmin Foth, Gina Whitmore and Carolyn Hansen
Some days it seems impossible to put all that we do into an ‘elevator pitch,’ “Our mission is to inform, equip, and connect churches to transform lives and communities through the love of Christ.” Yet I say, we love people well. That is what we are called to do, and we do it with all that we are.
In future posts, you will hear more about my journey into the nonprofit life and Christian Community Development (CCD) and as a newbie, how that process has changed me from the inside out. For now gentle readers, I invite you to learn more about the organization I work for, and if you are touched and led as I am, consider giving.
A quote from Sister Simone Campbell at the Christian Community Development Conference this year, #CCDADetroit, says it perfectly, “Our hearts are broken open by the stories that surround us. It is all about community”
On a Roll with Charmin 