Lovingkindness Embodied

“Staying vulnerable is a risk we have to take if we want to experience connection.”

Brene Brown

After my Uncle’s storm blew over, he looked spent and took his leave. Everyone offered a farewell in muted shock. There are plenty of people we might expect to blow their top in my family - this guy wasn’t one of them.

For whatever reason, and I suppose to no one’s surprise, I couldn’t let this go. I trailed behind him and leaned into the driver’s side door, my elbows and forearms screaming as they touched the hot metal of his Buick. He rolled down his window. I leaned in close.

“Uncle James, you do not seem to know this, but my mother loves you to pieces and you just devastated her. She admires you. She thinks you are the best Christian man she has ever known in her entire life and I have no reason to doubt her assessment. I don’t have any idea what happened in the past, but I am sure you have suffered more than she has over the years as a result of the decisions previous generations have made. My mom doesn’t have men in her life that she can call ‘good’. You’re it. Please fix this.”

I never saw him again. But I did learn that he fixed it with my mom. It didn’t take much because my mom was a primed pump ready to pour out her love on this older brother who was treated at best like a welcomed guest in her childhood home. My mother, a little acorn who, in my opinion, was not particularly well nourished herself and often lived in inhospitable conditions for growing lovingkindness, was a mighty oak tree of hesed.

Me? Not so much. I harbored resentment toward him. I am still cautious around folks claiming the label “good Christian.” But I have to give James credit; he made a wrong right. So although it was hurtful and messy, it turns out that my Uncle James was indeed a man capable of lovingkindness.

“Imperfections are not inadequacies; they are reminders that we’re all in this together.”

Brene Brown

A Tale of Lovingkindness..

“What we know matters but who we are matters more.”

Brene Brown

My mother grew up as an only child, but she wasn’t one. Here’s what happened. My grandfather married a woman and had a little boy they named James. When James was a baby, his mother died of food poisoning. My grandfather went hunting and found a lovely young woman and married her with some haste. But not hastily enough. Since my grandfather had to work and knew nothing about raising no babies, James went to live with his paternal grandparents. When my grandfather remarried, he went to fetch James but his mother would not give him back. I judged my grandfather for his lack of rigorous pursuit in retrieving James. I suspect my mom did too.

My mother loved her brother with endless abandon. I was never quite sure where he stood in regards to his feelings about her until my grandfather died. The work of caring for my grandmother, closing up her home and resettling her with my mom, fell to my mom. She didn’t mind. My grandmother only had one specific request: make sure James gets his mother’s sewing machine. It was one of those antique wooden cabinets with the large pedal? I loved that thing.

It was a hot and humid August day when we drove down to clear out the house. James came by to pick up the machine late in the afternoon of the final day of moving. My mother was thrilled to see him. He, in turn, unleashed upon her decades of anger and resentment. No one in that house stood up for mother; they just listened as he ranted and raved. Now mind you, my poor mom had done everything in her power to love her brother. When his wife left him with a young child to run off with another man? My mother took that little boy into our home until James had found him another bride. And unlike her grandmother, she gave him back when asked. She had asked him to take ANYTHING from the house he wanted - frankly, there wasn’t much. He hadn’t even wanted the sewing machine, but my mom insisted on that point.

I was appalled. My entire life I had heard what a great Christian man my uncle was - is this what that meant? Was this hesed? No. But the story continues…

You Were Created for Lovingkindness

“I thought faith would say, ‘I’ll take away the pain and discomfort,’ but what it ended up saying was, ‘I’ll sit with you in it.’”

Brene Brown

If an acorn carries within the potential to become an oak tree, what potential is hidden within the frame of the lowly zygote? Many wisdom teachers believe that as an oak tree is to an acorn, lovingkindness is to a zygote.

A lot can go wrong along the way. Before hurricanes wiped out many of our trees, we had a kazillion acorns each autumn strewn across our backyard, driveway, gutters and flower beds. Did I think of their potential? No, I thought they were a pain in the neck and it hurt like hell when I stepped on one barefoot.

When I was growing up, did I look in the mirror and think, “Dang, girl, you have the potential for lovingkindness?” Sadly, no. No one ever told me about this wisdom teaching.

If you, like me, were never told this before, grab a mirror, stare into your beautiful eyes and repeat after me, “You were created for lovingkindness.” The happiest you will ever be are the moments when you express your most authentic self of lovingkindness. Repeat this every morning, noon and night until your head believes your heart. Because your heart knows it is true.

And when you know, you can do. And as you do, you will become more confident in your knowing. And when your knowing and doing align in lovingkindness, your heart will sing with joy. And you will be able to sit with God and others in contentment.

Lovingkindness for the Sake of Lovingkindness

“Empathy has no script. There is no right way or wrong way to do it. It’s simply listening, holding space, withholding judgment, emotionally connecting, and communicating that incredibly healing message of ‘You’re not alone.’”

Brene Brown

If I were going to nominate a queen for the tuna casserole festival, it would be Brene Brown. Her research, writings and talks on vulnerability, authenticity, shame and leadership make my toes tingle with gratitude. She offers a gentle, cuss-ladened, boot wearing, raucous laughing voice filled with curiosity and questions in a world that has been overrun by shouting and certainty.

Empathy may have no script but it sure as heck knows how to whip up a tuna casserole. Please, please, please, do not miss this point. The world is not healed by our certainties, opinions, or beliefs. The world does not flourish via the grand gesture. Or, to quote Brene -

“Don’t try to win over the haters; you are not a jackass whisperer.” What can we do? We ask. How can we make the world a better place? Here are some ancient suggestions that have seen others through during times of darkness. Be Consistent. Be Reliable. Be Steadfast. Be Unconditional in lovingkindness. It is meant, I think, to be our default position. It is NORMAL.

The way we are living in this day and age is NOT NORMAL. It is not conducive to thriving. The great thing about lovingkindness is that it does NOT depend on reciprocity. We simply make it part and parcel of our character, not as a bartering chip or self-esteem building.

Too hard? Well of COURSE it is hard, if it were easy, every jackass would do it. #don’tbeajackass #serveupatunacasserole

A Lovingkindness Revolution

Lovingkindness is a choice. There are many possibilities and options for us to consider when we are in relationship with someone. Is it possible, we wonder, to get our point across without hurting feelings? Or, can I take a little jab to make a point without committing to an all out brawl? If I go out of my way for someone, can I expect a return on my investment when I need help?

Lovingkindness is not only a choice, it is a deliberate, willful act. It’s not an attitude or a fuzzy feeling, it requires follow through. It requires perspective. Myra’s cooler of water was a gift to our family and all those workers who delicately worked to remove a tree without further damage to our cars (only one was ultimately totalled). She wasn’t regifting, she thoughtfully recognized the exact need of the moment (one that had not yet occurred to me).

When you happen on someone who’s in trouble or needs help among your people with whom you live in this land that God, your God, is giving you, don’t look the other way pretending you don’t see him. Don’t keep a tight grip on your purse. No. Look at him, open your purse, lend whatever and as much as he needs. Don’t count the cost. Don’t listen to that selfish voice saying, “It’s almost the seventh year, the year of All-Debts-Are-Canceled,” and turn aside and leave your needy neighbor in the lurch, refusing to help him. He’ll call God’s attention to you and your blatant sin.

Deuteronomy 15:7-9 MSG

Lovingkindness costs us. When we were first married sometimes the only food left in our cupboard the last week in the month might be a can of cream of mushroom soup, noodles and a can of tuna: a tuna casserole. I suspect that this tradition of bringing tuna casseroles might have more sacred meaning than I once appreciated. I wonder if, over the course of decades of tuna casserole deliveries, the bringers of said casserole might just be bringing the last of what remained in their cupboard.

Who would you bring a tuna casserole to? Who would bring one to you? Let’s start our own revolution. #bringbackthetunacasserole