Category — Faith

I’m working during a short, late nap here, so I don’t have time to tell you all the things I’ve been thinking about over the last week (like the Britax Boulevard and visiting family and passed fitness goals and why the Kingdom keeps slipping into my conversations), so I’ll just tell you the most time-sensitive one:

Happy (late) Father’s Day!

. . . to the fathers who frequent For the Record and especially to Chris, who, in case you don’t know, is the father of that little cutie we feature here on a regular basis, Caelyn. (Incidentally, he’s also my husband.)

Our church is launching a new non-profit organization called Parenting Alone, which will provide resources, child care, counseling, and other assistance to single parents. (IBC already has a substantial single parenting ministry, but Parenting Alone is envisioned as something nondenominational and outside of the church that will hopefully grow into multiple store-fronts across the country.)

This past Sunday, they introduced the idea to the congregation via a video of IBC women sharing the pain and struggles they faced after going through a divorce with children. (Of course, not all single parents are divorcees and not all single parents are women. Some parents even start out as single parents. The peolpe on this video just happened to be divorced women. No matter the case, I’d guess that facing parenthood on your own isn’t easy. I think it’s downright terrifying for a lot of people.) Even though I’ve never been a single parent, these women’s stories stirred something in my heart for them and other parents like them, and they made me think about my own life, particularly back to before Caelyn was born when I worked at a biblical counseling ministry in North Dallas.

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Yesterday, Lex wrote about putting the self back into self care. That’s something I’ve kinda been thinking about lately. I wouldn’t say that I’ve been thinking about the word “self care,” and maybe what I’ve been thinking about isn’t even the same as what Lex has been thinking about.

But either way, it’s got me thinking.

In a related post, Lex mentioned the notion of “productive selfishness.” In yesterday’s, he mentioned making sure that what he does for self care actually lines up with what he values, needs, and enjoys, not necessarily what he has heard other people say is the best way to take care of yourself. As I already said on his blog, I like that idea a lot.

If you knew me in my school years, you know I don’t have trouble procrastinating. I mean, I had high standards. I wanted to make A’s, and most of the time, I did, but I was pretty bent on getting those grades my own way: studying during the class before the class with the test; writing 30-page papers the night before; taking the best, messy notes you’ve ever seen; testing my limits (not as in pushing myself); figuring out creative ways to get by with the right grade, etc. I didn’t have any trouble procrastinating with other stuff — like dishes and laundry — either. And, obviously, I’ve spent plenty of time listening to music and watching television.

All that might make you think that I’m great at relaxing, at doing stuff just for me just because I want to. But I’m not. I’m not even very good at doing stuff just for me just because I need to. I process most things through my value system and I have a hard time putting enjoyment and relaxation at the top of my value list.

And I’m really not good at saying, “My needs are just as important as your needs; to do the best job of helping you with yours, I have to make sure I’m taking care of mine too,” and meaning it.

I’ve had a few (hard) occasions to get better at it, and I think I have, but when you add a kid to the mix, everything (or so it seems) gets renegotiated.

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“sure, I know that you are tired of hearing about it, but
most repeat the same theme over and over again, it’s
as if they were trying to refine what seems so strange
and off and important to them, it’s done by everybody
because everybody is of a different stripe and form
and each must work out what is before them
over and over again because
that is their personal tiny miracle
their bit of luck”

– Charles Bukowski, “me and faulkner”

* This post’s title is from the same poem and is not necessarily my perception of music.*

Allie’s brought us back to hip-hop, once again providing some good points. Points I very much agree with on some level. (It’s funny that this conversation is happening on/because of my blog, since it began upon my first mention of hip-hop ever and my street cred is barely worth noting.)

If you haven’t already, go read Allie’s post before you start this one, because I’m not planning on doing a lot of framing here. But I will do just a bit. . . .

You’ll all remember that Lex originally asked Allie how she could decry misogyny in hip-hop yet read (and enjoy) Bukowski. I followed that by saying that I agree that tolerance of certain themes ought to span various forms of media. Allie’s basic premise is that while Bukowski and rappers discuss the same things, they do so in very different ways. Bukowski as a broken man, rappers as glorified sex kings. It would be hard for me to disagree with that assessment.

Obviously, they are different in style and presentation. Bukowski’s got more emo in him than most rappers. (I’d even say that Bukowski’s edge is often times much sharper than hip-hop’s.) Perhaps they’re even different in intention, but we can get carried away assigning motive and intention to artists when we really have no clue.

However, this argument against hip-hop rests on the assertion that in order for art to be valuable and worthy (?) of our consumption, a) it must reflect the brokenness of humanity and b) the artist must be willing to recognize his brokenness.

If art really is about humanity, though, recognition isn’t required. A lot of us, no matter how “broken” we may be, refuse to admit it. In fact, we do our best to shout, show, et. al. the exact opposite. If art is about reflecting and exposing something within universal humanity, then hip-hop ought to count, if not for its accurate depiction of how many cultures and (American) subcultures view women and sex (not to mention its political statements, stories of broken homes, etc.), then for its accurate reflection of how many (if not most) people deal, at least publicly, with their brokenness.

Isn’t pride, after all, a form of brokenness?

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Today is the earliest Easter has fallen on the calendar in 95 years. It won’t come this early again in our lifetimes, not even in our children’s lifetimes. Those are some long stretches.

And today has been a long day.

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. . . Just to See What They Look Like.

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