Words, Words, Words about Criticism

“When we judge or criticize another person, it says nothing about that person; it merely says something about our own need to be critical.” --Anonymous

“Those who are lifting the world upward and onward are those who encourage more than criticize.” --Elizabeth Harrison

The controversy surrounding mommy-blogger Heather Armstrong's recent charity trip to Bangladesh didn't surprise me. Heather went to Bangladesh to learn firsthand why maternal mortality rates for women in poor countries are so high and to promote awareness of the problem to those people who might be able to help. She was invited by the charity Every Mother Counts, founded by former model Christy Turlington, and Heather paid her own way.

I've heard all sorts of criticism aimed at both celebrities like Heather and average Janes and Joes who are working to do something good in the world. People snort derisively at Christians who give up their vacations to go on mission trips, celebrities who stand up for a charity du jour, and politicians who stump for a cause. There's always an ulterior motive, the critics say. Christians are just trying to buy their way into heaven with good works, celebrities travel to poor countries to poke sticks at the poor people just for the publicity, and politicians...well, we all know what they really want.

Healthy criticism and careful review of finances at charities are essential to keep charity scams to a minimum, but why in the world are people driven to condemn other people who are actually making a difference--or at least trying--on the front lines of some of the world's most horrifying problems?

I don't get it.

Certainly some people exploit the suffering of others for their own benefit, but it's hard to see how in the world Heather's activity benefits her personally in any nefarious way. And while it's nice to do good unheralded and unpraised, if everyone did their charitable activity in secret, lots less of it would get done. Promoting a need is necessary, and celebrities--whether bloggers or actors or billionaires--are ideally suited to raise awareness and the money that can make a difference.

We need to be very careful not to become the people who sit complaisantly complaining that other's motives are bad while we do nothing at all to make the world a better place, in whatever way we are called to do so. The problem of maternal mortality rates is huge and complex and won't be fixed quickly or easily or because Heather went to Bangladesh and had a bunch of bad hair days. She knows she can't solve the problem but she can make people more aware of it. She's doing what she can out of a sincere concern for women who die needlessly doing what nature intended us to do.

And I applaud her for it.

How can you lift up and encourage others who are trying to lift up the world in their own small way?

Negative Self Talk

This blog isn't a place for negative self talk. In fact, while I occasionally use my stupidity and poor situational awareness for comic effect, the central thesis of Questioning my Intelligence has three parts: nobody is perfect, we shouldn't take ourselves so seriously, and choosing a healthy, positive, and hopeful perspective on life does more for your happiness than anyone or anything else can.

A few weeks ago, when I picked up the lawn mower at the repair shop, I approached the service desk cheerfully. What a beautiful day! My thoughts were full of gratitude for the repair person who had the skill to fix our mower and for George who does the mowing. Two people stood behind the counter: a woman on the phone and a man standing a few feet from her. I aimed for him.

He gave me a sheepish smile and said, "You want to talk to her."

I smiled back and said, "Oh?"

"Yeah," he said, still sheepish. "I'm just a dumb truck driver."

How do you respond to that? I searched my brain for some way to spin his words that would help him feel better about himself...or at least let him know that I don't see truck drivers as dumb. Nothing came in the moment that didn't sound pretentious or condescending.

The difficulty, you see, is that I know how life has treated him to get him to the point where he would say something like this to a total stranger. Not specifics, of course. I don't know when or from whom his self-esteem took such a beating. I do know the type of negative words he's heard from others that wore him down and gave him the body language of a beaten puppy. I know the feelings of shame, inadequacy, and self-loathing. I know exactly what it feels like to hate yourself.

And no stranger on the other side of the counter can change those feelings. All a stranger can do is say a few words that contradict the feelings and point in another, more positive direction. These words will likely be ignored, like a single drop of rain in the desert. Just perhaps, they will fall on ground lightly seeded with hope and will eventually sprout and grow. In the moment, however, I was simply overwhelmed by the arid climate of this man's heart, smiled at him as compassionately as I could, and moved down the counter to the woman.

Even with my fairly healthy self-esteem, I suffer momentary return trips to the desert of negative self talk. I think, "You'll never be able to pull that off." Or, "What have you forgotten today, missy?" Or, "How can your house be such a mess. You're just a housewife and still can't get it right." These days, as soon as I'm conscious of these thoughts, I get out my watering can and do my best to drown them. Mostly, I succeed and am grateful. There was a time when my desert was much too big for the watering can to work.

As usual, my brain thought of something I could have said...ten minutes too late. Remember that episode of Seinfeld when George thought of the perfect comeback too late and fretted over it for the entire half-hour? When he finally said those tardy words, they sounded utterly ridiculous.

Life moves on.

Here's what I wish I had said to the man who saw himself as just a dumb truck driver: "Sir, you are not just anything. You are a beloved child of God."

Life moves on. My ill-timed comeback is useless for the truck driver, but perhaps, just perhaps, for someone reading this today, the timing is perfect.

"You are not just anything. You are a beloved child of God."

What sort of negative self-talk do you engage in? How do you fight it?

Words, Words, Words about the ABCs and a Prayer

I lifted this poster from a website called Pinterest. Be careful. If you go there, you may get sucked in and lose hours of your day to extreme coolness.

I just finished reading the book based on The Happiness Project blog this week and highly recommend it. The author, Gretchen Rubin, gives readers something to think about on every single page. My biggest take-away from the book is that happiness is hard work worth doing. Too many unhappy people wait around for life to make them happy; most happy people have figured out that it's the doing of happiness that makes one happy.

Toward the end of the book, Rubin shares a prayer attributed to St. Augustine that touched me deeply.

Tend your sick ones, O Lord Jesus Christ;
rest your weary ones; bless your dying ones;
soothe your suffering ones; pity your afflicted ones;
shield your joyous ones.
And all for your love's sake.

One of the problems with having a happy blog like mine is that not everyone who reads it is happy or is even in a place where happiness seems like a reasonable or attainable goal. Sometimes, when we're sick, weary, dying, suffering, or afflicted in some way, other people's happiness hurts us.

Wednesday, I spoke with a friend who is going through hell on earth right now, and sunshiny posters of happiness cliches are not helpful for her. She is afflicted with huge and completely overwhelming pain, major life changes on all levels, situations over which she has very little or no control. She asked me for advice, and I had nothing for her except to remind her to take care of herself in body, mind, and soul.

My friend already believes in God, knows that He loves her through all that is going on in her life, and has a wonderful support group of family and friends around her. She is already seeking professional help for the depression she feels coming over her and medical care for her physical problems. She is, in short, already doing everything she can to get through this. I'm proud of her. She will get through.

But that doesn't make her life any easier right now. Augustine's prayer is for her; for the people afflicted by the tsunami, the flooding in Australia, and other natural disasters; for the people in areas of fear and oppression and violence around the world; for those who are suffering in body, mind, soul; for those who are at the end of life; for those who know that being joyful is hard work and a blessing and so very fragile.

For love's sake.

Amen.

More for Japan

My Lenten promise was to do more. Given the tragic situation in the Pacific, I see a clear opportunity to do more. More prayer and compassion for those affected by this earthquake and its aftermath. More aid.

Will you join me in doing more? Please.

If you're looking for someplace to donate, try one of these:

United Methodist Committee on Relief

Red Cross

A Poem by SueB

The following was left by my very kind reader SueB in a comment on my other blog, and I thought I'd share it here for any of you who are feeling poorly at the moment. This is excellent advice, and I'm taking it. If you're sick, you should, too. Thanks, Sue.

comfy jammies,
cozy bed,
big soft pillow
for your head.
worry not,
the world can wait.
take your time,
recuperate!