I'm Down With P. Frank...AKA: Pope Francis

This year when the Pope was chosen, the office was buzzing. It was mostly buzzing due to the fact that Pastor Frank was beaming with pride because, obviously, the Pope named himself after Frank. Frank continued to keep us posted for a couple weeks on all the neat things the Pope had been doing. (By the way, Frank has a really great blog that you should check out: http://pawntoking4.blogspot.com)

After seeing more and more headlines about Pope Francis, I can no longer hold my enthusiasm. I'm a Lutheran who is totally and completely down with P. Frank.

Let me start with the fact that P. Frank is the most jeans-and-tee pope. I understand we haven't actually seen him in jeans and a t-shirt, but he doesn't really like all of the frill. He doesn't wear his stole or cape very often because, he admits, he just doesn't like them. He also hasn't worn the red shoes, white stockings, or cuff links. He even wore a second hand pallium. There are entitled 16-year-olds who won't even wear a hand-me-down.

Fabulous fashion choices aside (seriously, he looks super good without all the extra junk), P. Frank is a Pope for the people. He takes a slightly ecumenical approach to the church. A great example of both of these is when he performed the foot washing ceremony. People were abuzz about the fact that he washed the feet of women, not just men. The custom is to only wash male feet since the disciples were male. That's not the coolest part. Two of the people who's feet he washed were actually Muslim!

That's not the only thing approachable about him. I admire the way that he sort of acts like the petulant problem child to the Vatican. His security detail must go crazy every time he goes out into public. He's ditched the bullet-proof glass on the Popemobile, he frequently goes down into the public crowds to address them, refuses to live in the fancy apartments, and still refers to himself as "Bishop" rather than "Pope". See what I mean about being a jeans-and-tee pope?

P. Frank even took the time to hold a "Blessing of the Bikes" for Harley Davidson's 110th anniversary. That's right, the pope with bikers.

"Maybe I should get one of these..."

While that was one of the coolest things I've ever seen, nothing compares to P. Frank's homily that created some controversy recently in the Vatican. Instead of giving you the "follow-up" from the Vatican on this excerpt, I'm going to let you read it and take away what you will from it...seeing as I believe that's how sermons/homilies should be done.

"The Lord has redeemed all of us, all of us, with the Blood of Christ: all of us, not just Catholics. Everyone! 'Father, the atheists?' Even the atheists. Everyone! And this Blood makes us children of God of the first class. We are created children in the likeness of God and the Blood of Christ has redeemed us all. And we all have a duty to do good. And this commandment for everyone to do good, I think, is a beautiful path towards peace. If we, each doing our own part, if we do good to others, if we meet there, doing good, and we go slowly, gently, little by little, we will make that culture of encounter: We need that so much. We must meet one another doing good. 'But I don't believe, Father, I am an atheist!' But do good: We will meet one another there."

P. Frank is taking his office in a lighthearted and rather relaxed way. I cannot wait to see what other changes he brings about. It's good to see positive role models within the Christian church reaching out to those who are different. After all, isn't that what Jesus did?

Honestly, Why Must We Ask This?

When I graduated, I was gifted with a book titled The World According to Mister Rogers by my French teacher. I've flipped through it a few times. It's just a collection of small quotes that are both insightful and profound. Today I found the following quote:

"The greatest gift you can ever give is your honest self."

Honesty has always been important. We don't often look of it as our "gift" to be honest to those around us, we just look at it as an obligation. Honesty is the best policy, right? This is where it gets tricky. We want honesty. We crave it. We love nothing more than to know exactly how people feel, how things work, and the way things are going to be. Yet, we have this phrase:

Honestly?

I don't know about you, but I say this all the time. I have a very brash honesty about me, so "honestly?" just comes out naturally. I'm never sure if people actually want to hear what I have to say. In our culture there's this huge importance placed on tact. If you're not being tactful people think you're mean. Our honesty is forcibly veiled with a thin coat of bull crap.

"Do these jeans make my hips look big?"

"Yes, but you have big hips, and that's okay!"
"No no! They don't make your hips look big, I just think the other pair is much more slimming."

Is it wrong to tell people we care about how we really feel? Think about this. Your friends and family should love you for who you are. They should love you for your honesty, no matter how tactful it is. When we pull out this "honestly?" phrase, it's almost as if we're saving our skin before we give our opinion. When I hear that phrase, I immediately know that it's not going to be what I want to hear. We ask others for their honesty, but they still feel the need to ask if that's really what we want.

"I want your honest opinion on these earrings."
"Honestly?"
"Honestly"
"They're ugly."

THAT is an honest opinion. While something like, "I think the other ones are cuter," is still honest, you're not talking about the earrings. You're directing to something more positive. There's nothing wrong with positivity. There is something wrong with positivity when we use it to cloud our true feelings. Honesty goes in hand-in-hand with opinions, and opinions can be negative. I find the need to apologize for blunt honesty slightly hypocritical. We can be honest! Just not too honest....

Besides my family, there are three people in this world that understand the importance of honesty: good or bad. I know I'll never have to ask the "honestly?" question, and I hope they know they'll never have to ask me. They give me that great gift that Mr. Rogers was talking about; they give me their honest selves. To Jim, Stephen E., and Michael S.: thank you for giving me your honesty and never making me apologize for mine. There's nothing more I would ever want. The level of respect I have for you is unprecedented, and that's why I care so much for you three. (I care a little more for Jim, sorry guys!)

Give your honest self. The people who accept it are the ones you want to stick around. If someone doesn't accept it, then it's time to move on. Collectively we need to stop having to prepare people for our honesty when it is asked for. Don't push it upon people, but if it is requested then give it. It shows character. It takes courage. More importantly, you owe it to those you love.

Honestly? I don't know why we have to ask.

Dear Sixteen-Year-Old Me

Lately, on Facebook and other social media sites, I've been seeing this topic circulate. At first I tried to ignore it. It's such a cliche thing to do, right? Writing your younger self a letter seems somewhat pointless. It can't change what's happened. What's the purpose? I let this thought roll around in my brain today when an unshakeable realization came: the purpose is to see how far you've come, not to change where you would go.

So here we go.

Dear Sixteen-Year-Old-Me,

Let's get this out of the way now: boys are dumb, high school is boring, and when you graduate none of it really matters. It's true. The guy who dumped you turns out to be a huge jerk (said in the nicest way possible), and your grades are fine just the way they are. Sometimes it's difficult to see past the typical teenage girl things. I promise, it's all pretty irrelevant once you hit college. Boys are still dumb in college, but on a slightly elevated level.

Studying for your driver's test does not help you with the practical part. If you take anything out of failing your test the first time, it should be that human error is the biggest cause of automotive accidents. Sometimes, it's not even your own error. Don't bum out about it, accidents happen.

Color your hair all you want, but know this: you'll let it grow out natural and healthy one day. You'll love it. Then, you'll decide to shave it all off. Yes, you haven't changed too much.

Don't stop reading or writing. Read the books you scoff at. It'll make you appreciate the ones you love even more. Write about what bothers you, or what makes you happy. Just do not quit writing. Write songs, poems, or blogs...but don't give up on it. It makes it that much harder to jump back in! Plus, there's nothing more embarrassing than a spelling or punctuation mistake on the internet. It's actually a bigger deal than Brittany Spears going off the deep end. Seriously.

Stop worrying about what you want to do with your life. You're going to pick the perfect college, and then realize you don't enjoy it at all. Be prepared for the backlash of dropping out of college. Try not to worry about it too much, though. Your parents will, like they always have, support you in everything. You'll try, and fail, at a lot of different life positions. One day, on a whim, you'll take a job offer that will end up being one of the greatest things you could hope for.

It's okay to feel uncertain. Life is uncertain. You can tuck yourself in every night and worry about what will happen next. I can guarantee in a million years that you will never actually dream up the exact journey you will have taken by the time you're 21. Friends come, friends go. The best ones stay in touch. The greatest of them love you for all you are, and all you can give them. They will never leave. Forgive the ones that do. They have their reasons, be that distance or a change in who they are. Growing, singularly as well as in friendship, is hard. There's no promising that others will grow up to love and appreciate the same things you will. It will hurt to see them go, but part of forgiveness is understanding and accepting the decisions others make.

Finally, embrace and love yourself. Tell yourself that whatever you have, whatever you do, whatever you accomplish, it is enough. Don't feel the need to apologize for your sense of humor. Don't feel the need to apologize for anything. Give everything you've been given. You've been dealt your hand; you have to play it. Just know that there's so much of the world you have yet to see, and so many people you have yet to meet. Lastly, please never forget to laugh.

You've made it this far,
Samantha Hudson (what, last name change!?) 21 years old.

Climbing a Mountain and the 5 Stages of Grief.

On our recent trip to the Black Hills, my family (meaning Kate, Frank, Jim, and I) climbed a mountain. When Frank told me we were going to be climbing a mountain, I was amped. A mountain? I've never climbed a MOUNTAIN before. Harney Peak, this mountain, is the highest point east of the Rockies. This of course could only lead to one thing: my constant new phrase of, "I'ma climb a mountain, ain't nobody gonna tell me nothin'!"

While the day didn't start off lending itself to hiking weather (cold, damp, and misty) we trudged forth to the trail head in order to begin the 3(?) mile hike to the top. The climb started off simply. All of us had our slow, deliberate hiking walk down to perfection. Heavy, monotonous steps thumped upwards. The day started to clear a little as we hit our first overlook stop. It was lovely (although still misty and foggy) and was a little over a mile up the mountain. As I stood there, sipping water and thinking about how far we already had come, I was amazed. There was no way we were really climbing a mountain! I was already exhausted. The top simply HAD to be approaching soon. And that's where it started.

My two-hour roller coaster through the 5 stages of grief. In my head. While climbing a mountain.

It starts with denial. "There's no way we're going to make it to the top. I'm already exhausted. Kate's not feeling well! I can't believe we're actually doing this, the trail just keeps getting more and more difficult!"

Then it moved on to anger. "Who's idea was it to climb this stupid mountain? We could be hiking any other trail. Why on earth did I agree to this?"

Followed, very quickly, by bargaining. "God, if you help me get to the top of this mountain, I'll never complain about anything again. I'll work out more! Just make my lungs stop burning!"

Depression kicked in about the last mile of the trip, when the terrain started getting a bit crazy. It went something like, "We're going to be jello by the time we reach the top. We won't even enjoy the view." This was accompanied by me losing my mind and singing excerpts from "The Climb" by Miley Cyrus.

Finally, there was acceptance. This kicked in as we neared the top. "Well, we've come this far, we might as well finish this and enjoy it. It's not the worst thing in the world!"

I never expected climbing a mountain would force me to run this gamut of emotions. However, sitting at the top of that mountain was worth it. Relaxing in the calm on that rocky, albeit chipmunk infested, mountain was amazing. All of the grumbling that I had been doing in my head was immediately gone and forgotten. In that moment, I was just happy to be on that mountain with those three people. I even told them that there's nobody I'd rather be on a mountain with, which led Frank to smile and go, "awww, for cuuuute."

While it wasn't the easiest thing in the world, it wasn't Everest. I lived. I conquered.

I climbed a mountain. Ain't nobody gonna tell me nothin'.