40 Letters of Love: Dear Belonging

             “If I get to be me, I belong. If I have to be like you, I fit in.”                       Brené Brown

Dear Belonging,

I have confused you with fitting in for so long. As I look around, it seems many of us do.

But fitting in no longer feels right. I am good at it. I know how. As an Enneagram 3, when I read these words from Brené Brown’s newest book, Braving the Wilderness, I feel them at my core, “I became an expert fitter in, a chameleon. And a very lonely stranger to myself.”

But fitting in to belonging is like Hellman’s to Duke’s. It might make you feel better about yourself, but it is just not the real thing. Fitting in pretends you have found community; belonging is like your warmest comforter on the coldest night.

Sitting on the porch surrounded by friends can be a lonely place to be when you don’t fit in. It leaves you with the recognition that what is still there is the need to belong- whether you are fitting in or not. And you see it in others…this fitting in when the desire of our heart is to belong. According to Brene’s research, “belonging is sharing our experience (with another) through song and story, through prayer and dance”.

When I don’t fit in, I can choose to see that or I can choose to be real to my story. Instead of withdrawing, I can look around- who else is pretending? Where are we missing someone’s beautiful song? How can I encourage them to dance?

I can say, I’m sorry I didn’t notice your suffering; I was too busy focusing on mine. All around me I saw happy people, fitting in with the group, and all my focus was on how left out I felt.

It was only later when you shared with me that you had been struggling too, could I see it more clearly. The way we pretend, smile, laugh, just as everyone else is- fitting in rather than belonging.

I wish I could say I always choose you belonging. I think almost the opposite is true, but I am learning.

When we held hands and jumped in together- belonging.

When we sat together in quiet prayer- belonging.

When we shared a meal and brought our authentic selves- belonging. 

When we laughed and cried sharing our stories- belonging.

I am grateful I know you. I release the masks I wear to fit in and affirm that love is found in belonging- may I choose it for myself, notice the suffering of others wrongly hopping they can find community by fitting in and always invite them to the field where you live.

Love,

Me

Look Into My Eyes

Look into my eyes

Do you see fear?

I see it there too in you.

Look into my eyes

Do you see hope?

I see it there too in you.

Look into my eyes

Do you see suffering?

I see it there too in you.

Look into my eyes

Do you see love?

I see it there too in you.

I live here

You live there

But we are not all that different.

May we live to see each other.

May we live to hear each other.

May we live to love each other.

On January 11^th, while most of us in the US slept, the Ethiopian Parliament voted to ban all foreign adoptions. There are many reasons for this, but this is not a post about the merits and concerns related to international adoption.

While this was happening in Ethiopia, I had a dream of children with beautiful brown skin but no voice trapped in a room. I saw them there, I felt a tug at my heart, but I continued with my life- my work- my vacations- until Gabre ran into that room becoming trapped too. As mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers, you can imagine my fear. My panic. My heartbreak. And then my guilt- why didn’t I do something?

I write today to say if you feel a tug at your heart, you can do something. We can help.

Jimmy and I have had the Joy of supporting Hawassa Hope since its inception 5 years ago. Led by fellow adoptive parents with a heart for the children and families of Ethiopia, this organization has already been working in a region closed to international adoption. They support the care of infants and children in a local orphanage (which becomes a greater need throughout Ethiopia as adoption agencies will pull their support), work towards local fostering and adoption, sponsor children vulnerable in the community to keep them with their families, empower women to work and support their families, build wells for clean water and so much more.

For $30 a month, you could become a part of participating in these things. You could say that as an American you do care about people from other countries and not just your own. You could live to see, to hear and to love each other.

Feel free to message me for more information. You can also check out www.hawassahope.org or email Charisa at info@hawassahope.org

40 Letters of Love: Dear Person With a Story

Dear Person With a Story (Dear Everyone),

Don't let anyone tell you that your story doesn't have value.

Don't let anyone tell you that you haven't suffered enough to share something of worth.

Don't let anyone tell you that your pain and your fear don't matter as much as someone else's version of history.

Somehow we forget the pronoun before your story is Your. It's not mine to critique, or judge or argue with. It's not mine to manipulate or change.

When your story says you're afraid, I hope I hear your fear.

When your story comes from suffering you don't talk about, I hope I give it space for healing.

When your story has a different point of view than mine, I hope I know that doesn't make it wrong.

What a place this would be if we would all gather around the table together and listen.

Love,
Me