What Happens in Biloxi......

We left on Christmas Day, and arrived early on December 26th -- twenty members and friends of the UU Church of Lexington. Why Christmas? Some of us, tired of the materialism and commercialism of Christmas, had decided to spend our holiday helping others. Some of us needed to start Dec. 26th in order to be back in school or at work within a week. Ranging in age from 4 to 64, we were an international team: a Partner Church minister from Transylvania, an Alabanian exchange student from Germany, and one American born in Saudi Arabia. The family for whom we were going to build a house are African American, working-class, lifelong residents of East Biloxi.

We completed our task, and surpassed our goal. Within a week, the new house was framed, and the outer walls were begun, and sheathing on the roof. Astounding for a team of mostly novices! There have been several other groups from Lexington in our wake, and the family should be moving into their completed home this weekend. After almost two years in a very small FEMA trailer on the site of their former home, and 6 months across the bay in a FEMA trailer camp, it will be a momentous homecoming.

Since then I have discovered that the UU funding program gave $50k to the East Biloxi Relief & Coordination Center, the agency with whom we worked to complete our mission. How cool is that??!! We also had the blessing of attending services at thedetermined-to-survive Gulf Coast UU Fellowship, with their wonderful minister, The Rev. Susan Karlson. Connections abound!

Most of our team will never see the results of what we did, except maybe in photographs. What amazes me, one month later, is how many other things were begun and built during that week: Confidence. Friendships. Trust. Leadership. Skills. Goodwill. Faith.

What happens in Vegas may stay in Vegas, but what happens in Biloxi comes home with you and continues to unfold for a long, long time.

Turkey? Me? Well, okay!

We must become ignorant
Of all we've been taught,
And be, instead, bewildered.

Run from what's profitable and comfortable
If you drink those liquers, you'll spill
The spring water of your real life.

Forget safety.
Live where you fear to live.
Destroy your reputation.
Be notorious.

I have tried prudent planning
Long enough, from now
On, I'll live mad.

Rumi

Sometimes, in mid-winter, it's hard to believe that good as well as bad things really do happen. It seems as if every phone call brings bad news. And, it has been proven that more people die at this time, and that depression does increase, and the weather in my part of the world reflects that outlook.

So, when I was invited to participate in an all-expense paid trip to TURKEY, it came as not only an enormous surprise, but a reminder that grace really does happen. I never win anything! I don't believe in any sort of gambling, and have never even bought a lottery ticket, so my chances of winning are pretty slim. Imagine my surprise when three young men, all PhD students at UK, with whom I have worked on several interfaith projects, invited me and another community leader to dinner at a delightful Turkish restaurant, and after a lovely meal, presented us a brochure describing this ten-day trip, and told us we'd been chosen to go! Sponsored by the Istanbul Cultural Center, an Atlanta based organization that promotes interfaith and inter-cultural dialogue, the annual trips are offered to two small groups with tour guides and translator: Ephesus! Cappadocia! Ankara! Rumi! Whirling Dervishes!!

Now, I would never, in my wildest dreams, have imagined that I'd go to Turkey! First, there are no UU groups there (it's 99.8 % Muslim!); second, I didn't know anyone from there; and third, I didn't know enough about Turkey to know how spectacular and rich in Christian as well as Muslim history it is.

After the initial shock, I had an interesting array of reactions: guilt (what about the rest of my family?); suspicion (what do they want?); relief (I'll miss the GA and won't have to decide what to do about the security kerfluffle); unworthiness; anxiety; more guilt. But underneath these mostly negative, self-critical emotions ran a thread of child-like delight, wonder, and awe... that feeling you knew when a great aunt gave you the most perfect, absolutely beautiful stuffed bear, the kind with movable joints, a real treasure that your parents would never have chosen: Yes, I deserve this and I am special! I knew it! Somebody noticed! they picked me! Whoppeeeee!

It occurs to me that this joyful, childlike self is and has always been there, buried beneath layers of self-defeating muck. After ten years of Buddhist practice, she emerges more frequently than not. I love acknowledging her and letting her out, even though I know others will take up where I left off, and try to trigger my guilt, fear, anxiety, mistrust, etc. I will try to smile and wish them well. Because whatever they say, I am going to Turkey! Good things happen, probably at least as often as bad. Call it Grace; Call it karma. I promise to send a postcard.

Prodigal Sons & Daughters

The worst thing about having grown children become addicts is listening to other people brag about the accomplishments of their kids who are the same age. There were times when I felt like every UU kid, and especially every minster's kid, was either going to Yale on a full scholarship, traveling the world doing humanitarian projects, or making independent films about marginalized people.

Of course, listening to those stories isn't really worse than the sleepless nights worrying that your child will die, or, worse by far, that he or she will cause the death of someone innocent. When you are relieved that your kid has lost their license, or is in jail, because you know they and those around them are safe... that's bad. I guess that even though UUs are tolerant, accepting, and totally affirming, there are still some things (besides money) we can't talk about without fear of judgement. I was so grateful when Bill Sinkford told the story about his son's problems. I knew then that I was not a bad mother, bad person, etc. The greatest remorse is the belief that having gone into the ministry, moving away, being unavailable at times, contributed to your child's addiction.

I know that people need to believe that if kids go terribly wrong, there must be some logical explanation, because otherwise it could happen to their kids. I know it because I used to judge parents of addicts that way myself. Truth is, a large part of addiction is hereditary, and you can spend a lifetime trying to avoid this heartache for your children, only to see it manifest. Even worse, family systems tells us that the anxious focus those of us who grew up with addiction project on our offspring might actually contribute to their becoming symptomatic.

The day my son went, voluntarily, to 30 day rehab, I wanted to get a T shirt and a bumper sticker that read: "Your kid went to Harvard? That's nothing! Mine graduated rehab!" Finally, I learned not to mention it very much at all, because it is only those who have been there who truly understand.

Rehab is not the end... of course. When they say "relapse is a part of recovery," it applies to you, too. A year after rehab, my son went with us to Transylvania for 2 weeks, where I saw his face light up with joy and heard him laugh freely for the first time in many, many years. At 25, it was his first time outside the United States. When you are wrapped up in drugs and alcohol, you don't do the things other young people do. You don't have the money or the courage.

After we came back, he relapsed and lost a great job, a wonderful woman, and his driver's license. We waited until the fallout was over, and then we invited him to live with us. It's only been a week, but we have a contract, he's in recovery, he's clean, and last night our whole family had a meal and watched TV together for the first time in a long time. I have hopes.. of course.. but no expectations. We'll just have to live one moment at a time, which is, of course, always a good way to live. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found. Luke 15:24.