I'm not generally a person to let my gas tank get to the point where the Low Fuel Indicator turns on.

I know that running one's vehicle with the tank so close to empty will eventually harm the fuel pump, among other things, and that is bad for the car in general.  But there I was, on a Monday evening, on my way home from work when the indicator light came on, with my paycheck not hitting the bank until early Wednesday morning, and still needing to get my daughter back and forth to her daily before and after care, and myself round trip to the Metro station for work.  All I could do for the next day was pray that my car would start, and just get me to where I needed to go until Wednesday.  I had to go as far as I could before the one gallon left in the reserve portion of the gas tank ran completely out.

It was a VERY long couple of days.

I thought about this again over Halloween weekend, as I watched my daughter try mightily through two extremely long days that started with a 6:30am wake-up to get ready for school (and get into costume for the school's Halloween festivities), a full day at school, followed by a sleepover for a friend's birthday, in which very little sleeping actually happened, but a couple of dips in a hotel pool which did a number on her pressed, 4C hair, getting back on Saturday, which was Halloween, around 2:00, followed by eating while I ran my errands, only to get back to our room to endure the 2 hour ordeal that was washing, conditioning, de-tangling (an unholy mess!), and blow drying her by then dry and very matted hair.  By then it was time to get into Halloween costume #2 for trick or treating and a Halloween party for grownups and kids given by some good friends of ours later on.

Unlike a car that might start sputtering when low on gas, my daughter got unusually cranky and overly picky about little things when hitting her reserves.  The costume itched, and the wig I had purchased to go with the costume was driving her crazy.  The friends she was to go trick or treating with were running a bit late, and she fussed about that until they showed up. She mustered enough energy for a festive round of trick or treating, but I could tell after an hour or so that she was definitely starting to get tired.  By the time we parted ways with her friends drove to the party, and grabbed something to eat and drink, I could tell that she wasn't going to last too much longer.  My daughter then proceeded to lean against my arm, and fall fast asleep in the middle of an extremely loud, boisterous party.  It was very difficult to wake her up, walk her to the car, get back to the room, then wake her up a second time in order to get her into the room, and ready for bed.

She had just done the human equivalent of "running on fumes": pushing herself to use every last bit of energy until she quite literally had nothing left, and had to rest to replenish.

I am considering this as I listen to the local news while watching my daughter sleep on an early Sunday morning.

Soon, this peace will give way to the normal noises of my daughter and I preparing for our weekly church service, although this Sunday, we will be visiting our sister church to sing.

There are a lot of people who wonder about those like me:  This group who regularly rouse themselves out of a comfortable bed on a weekly basis to attend a worship service.  For me, it is the equivalent of refilling my tank, after a long week of having my faith challenged, tested, and almost run into the ground.  Especially when I've been going through some iteration or other of the same issue for a long period of time.  My father calls those pro-longed faith fights.  You pray and pray, and do everything physically, that you are supposed to do to change, or improve, your situation, but there is no movement for long periods of time. These issues can drain you, physically and spiritually.  My method of replenishment is to spend a few hours each week among kind, like minded people (Not to say that there isn't anyone there that is mean-spirited or petty.  I've just become an expert at avoiding the overwhelmingly negative.) who may or may not have been through what I've been through, and at least TRY to understand.  I need that little bit of understanding and empathy to get through my own dark moments when I wonder if any of my ongoing efforts are ever going to yield any results.

It's getting late, and I need to get dressed.  I suppose I could talk a bit more about how it's other Christians that make it hard for Christians to be Christians, but that is a subject for another post.

​Time to go refill my tank.

This was the last photo taken in the apartment my daughter and I vacated over the last couple of days.

The same apartment we felt so blessed to get into in a hurry right after Thanksgiving last year that, while not a complete nightmare, was definitely a HUGE disappointment.  Or whatever you want to call mice, ants, mysterious water leaks that we never did discover the source of, and in the final couple of days, an industrial sized cockroach that opted to menace us, first from the hallway, then from inside the apartment.

When it finally occurred to me that I didn't know when the Sheriff was coming to lock us out, my daughter and I went into a flurry of getting as much of our stuff could fit into my car into storage, then refilling the car with the stuff we were going to need day to day.  My rules for my daughter were simple, "Grab anything that actually means something to you, and pack it in the box you have.  In the bucket, only pack things you can actually fit, and wear on a regular basis."  Of course some things got left behind, including the vast majority of our large furniture and appliances.  I grabbed some pots and pans that it would be very difficult to replace, as well as my Tupperware (You will pry my Tupperware, especially my few nice pieces, from my cold, dead hands), and tossed those in storage yesterday.  But for a couple of chairs that my daughter and I fit into the hatch of my car, and our electronic items, whenever we get another place, my daughter and I will be completely starting over.  As I stated to my daughter over and over again while this was going on: "It's only stuff."

One of the Bible stories that kept occurring to me over and over again during this particular go round with my housing situation was the story of Job.  For some reason, I was taken with the idea of studying the story of Job in depth during Lent a couple of years ago.  The short version of the story is that Job was actually a good guy, and Satan suggested to God that Job was only praising him and faithful because he was successful and didn't want or need anything, and his kids were healthy and happy.  So Satan bet God that if Job lost everything, he wouldn't still be happy and faithful and praising Him.  God basically told Satan to do what he wanted, so long as you don't kill him.  Satan took God up on it, and made sure Job lost everything: money, livelihood, family, house, eventually, even his health.  Job's friends came around to tell him what a loser he was, and how everything that was happening was probably his fault in some way shape or form, and how he should just leave all this God business alone, and just die already.  Job wasn't having any of it, which he told his friends to their faces, although privately he whined to God, "What did I do?  Are you mad at me, or something?"  After a couple of rounds of God telling Job not to tell Him His job (a summary of a much longer conversation), God eventually restored everything that was lost and destroyed back to Job, and the narration of the Bible resumes.

I again contemplated the story of Job as I prepared to possibly spend Sunday night in my car with my daughter as I didn't get paid until Wednesday, and I had spent the remainder of the money I had left getting what of our stuff we could into storage.  I burst into frustrated tears as the one thing that terrified me, my biggest fear that I had been doing everything possible to avoid, visited me for the second time inside of one year.  Watching my daughter watch me, I realized that I had a decision to make.

Was this going to bend me, or break me?

After a series of texts and phone calls, I secured a few days at my sister's place until I could get a motel room for us, some phone numbers that I called today (every homeless service in my area is taped out beyond belief: http://www.dailybreeze.com/social-affairs/20150512/homelessness-jumps-39-percent-in-south-bay-12-percent-in-la-county-in-past-two-years ), and in general started making plans to live in motels until I find a way to put it all back together again.  Again.

Like Job, I finally understand a few things about this life.  Although old Job was blameless, I made a few mistakes along the way, and I earnestly tried to fix them.  It didn't necessarily work, obviously.  But like Job, I know that losing my Faith just because things appear to be at a dead end, would be the worst thing that I could do.  Especially right now.  I am already putting in the hard work to improve my situation and repair my credit.  Everything I was raised to believe as a Christian tells me that so long as I continue doing the right things to put my life back together, God will meet me more than halfway.  The Spiritualist/Humanist version of this says that What you put out into the Universe is what the Universe gives back to you, and often more so.  So we all agree that hard work and blessings often go hand in hand.  Which is the face I want to show my daughter while all  of this is going on.

The Lord blessed the latter part of Job’s life more than the former part. Job 42:12

I hope so.  I sincerely hope so.
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To His Holiness, Pope Francis:

I don't know if you read or even accept correspondence from non-Catholics, but I opted to write to you to let you know that you have quite a few admirers among the general populace here in the United States.  I live on the west coast, in California, and I don't have the means to make the trip to the East Coast to see you in person, so I will have to follow your visit via television when I can.  I look forward to hearing your calls for social justice, economic equality, and responsible stewardship of our natural resources.

Your holiness, this openness, and unprecedented concern for the least among us, is the reason so many people have taken to you.  In a world where it seems that those with the resources and power to change the circumstances of those around them could seem to care less, you are in a unique position.  You are the first person that I can recall, in my admittedly short 43 years on the Earth, to have the kind of authority needed to speak the truth about social and economic injustice, without being shouted down by those who profit from violence and poverty.  You can speak freely and from the heart about such issues as greed, wrath, and injustice without being accused of ulterior motives.  You have a position from which to shine a light on the so often overlooked people of this world, which coming from someone with your power is so rare that it is actually non-existent.  

Your Holiness will never know how much those of us here in the trenches, just struggling to get by day to day, appreciate your willingness to give voice to the rest of us.  Not just the poor, but the much maligned working class, and the rapidly shrinking middle class, who are finally starting to understand that the bottom line here in America is profit, no matter the human cost.

Which leads me to the prayer.  As a Christian, I understand the concept of prayer as a necessary, and integral part of everyday life.  Especially for you, Your Holiness, as you travel into what might turn out to be hostile political territory, which it shouldn't be, but you never know with some people, particularly when uncomfortable truths and flaws are being pointed out.  Of course, my particular brand of Christianity, which mixes in some progressive and feminist ideology, means that we are not going to agree on every issue, but I identify with enough of what you say that I certainly hope that those in power here in the US, will listen carefully to what you say, specifically about the economy and the environment, and take it under consideration rather than just discarding it out of hand.

Your Holiness, I pray for traveling mercies as you travel to the United States, and for the entirety of your visit.  I pray that hearts and minds will be touched by your visit, and lives will be changed for the better by what words are spoken while you are here.  And even if there is disagreement with something that is sung or preached, I pray that everyone will find at least one positive takeaway from your mission here in the US.  I pray that you will enjoy your stay here in the US, however brief it is, and that you will know the depth of the commitment of the citizenry to at the very least attempting to help the helpless, care for the environment, and do our very best to become the good people that we want to be. I have always believed that there is something in every sermon, or every word that is preached that will have a special meaning to someone, even if it is only one person in the audience, that could spark a change that will positively impact the rest of their lives.  I pray that your visit will spark that positive change here in the United States, not just for the elite class, but for everyone.

I look forward to your visit later this week, and reading more of your statements on the world we live in.  I wish more people in power had your courage and vision, but maybe this may just spur more of them to think more about the people they depend on to vote for them, and less about the people that pay for the campaigns.

Wishful thinking, I know, but a Christian (Ok, Lutheran, but who's counting?), can dream, right?

Yours in Christ,

Erica

So it has not escaped anyone's attention that Easter Sunday falls on April 20th, or as stoners refer to the day, 4/20, this year.

Of course some good Christian pastors are all up in arms about the coincidence, loudly denouncing the use of what they consider a "gateway drug" from the pulpit.  Other pastors are using the day as a day to reach out to addicts to try and convert them from their use of marijuana with catchy sermon titles, inviting them to get high on Jesus.  I find this ridiculous and more than a tiny bit condescending.  Even as a Christian, I realize that just because I choose not to indulge in, ahem, herbal remedies, that doesn't make me a better person than those that do.

I suppose I noticed this because as an African American woman that wears dreadlocks, I am often mistaken for being a Rasta, a practitioner of the Rastafari lifestyle.  It is an entirely misunderstood practice, in that while the smoking of what they refer to as ganga as a part of their spiritual practices is an option, it's not an option that many Rastas choose to exercise.  They would prefer to stick to the tenants of not polluting their body with unnatural substances (they prefer natural, not processed foods), and keeping their minds clear.  Actually, the smoking of substances as a part of spiritual practice goes back much further than the early 1900's start of Rastafari.

The smoking of weed for the purpose of opening up one's mind to a higher power can be traced back to ancient Asia.  Ganga, in fact, the the Sanskrit word for the plant.  Indians introduced the plant to Asia in the 19th century when they were imported to Asia as cheap labor.  Early Native Americans smoked native plants for much the same reason.  The important thing to note, however, was that no one smoked for the purpose of getting high.  That was a western construct once the side effects of the weed became widely known.

What fascinates me is the thought of opening up one's mind in order to better discern divine influences.  Some Eastern religions teach the art of meditation, the purpose being the calming of your mind, in order to be more in tune with both the universe and the divine.    More fundamentalist Christian leaders would have their followers believe that you need to close your mind to anything that doesn't agree with the worldview you are being taught, never mind being more in tune with everything and everyone around you.  More progressive Christian leaders realize that most religious and spiritual practices have more in common than differences, and encourage certain practices, like meditation, because they know that a calm, open mind is extremely important to a focused, intentional prayer life.

If I learned anything from a short class I received on Comparative Religion, it's that people will search for enlightenment, answers to questions about the meaning of their lives and struggles, wherever they are using whatever means are available to them. For some this could mean prayer, for some meditation, and for some, yes it could be the smoking of herbs.  Which is wonderful, as when people are not allowed to search for answers to eternal questions, that inner turmoil can possible manifest itself externally as violence directed towards anybody they deem different than themselves.  Witness any war fought the world over for the freedom to practice one's religious preference.  I am all for the Freedom of Religion, as theorized in our constitution.  So long as you are not harming yourself (Really harming yourself, not as imagined by someone else.), harming anyone else, or forcing your beliefs on anyone else, search for the infinite in whatever way seems best to you.

Here's to your search for enlightenment.  However you choose to pursue it.