PeaceMoms Blog

As a little girl growing up in Sri Lanka, I remember how my grandfather and my father would encourage us to make the first fast. When it was time to eat, we felt that Aladdin had loaned his Genie. There, available to us, was every type of food, every type of treat… The fast this year opens me to a similar sense of joy and fulfillment. Knowing that my Christian sisters and brothers have joined me in the fast is profound and powerful.

Alan Cohen writes about a culture in Africa where when a woman in a certain African tribe knows she is pregnant, she goes out into the wilderness with a few friends and together they sing a song. Then they return to the tribe and teach it to everyone else. When the child is born, the community gathers and sings the child's song to him or her. Later, when the child enters education, the village gathers and chants the child's song. When the child passes through the initiation to adulthood, the people again come together and sing. At the time of marriage, the person hears his or her song. Finally, when the soul is about to pass from this world, the family and friends gather at the person's bedside, just as they did at their birth, and they sing the person into the next life. In this African tribe, there is one other occasion upon which the villagers sing to the child. If at any time during his or her life, the person commits a crime or abhorrant social act, the individual is called to the center of the village and the people in the community form a circle around them. Then they sing their song to them. The tribe recognizes that the correction for antisocial behavior is not punishment; it is love and the remembrance of identity.

Those who love you remember your beauty when you feel ugly; your wholeness when you are broken; your innocence when you feel guilty; and your purpose when you are confused. We have not grown up in an African tribe that sings our song to us at crucial life transitions. But we do know the beauty and joy of singing.

I think it is time we seriously asked ourselves what song are we singing?
What songs are we inspiring others to sing? No matter what challenges and obstacles we encounter, let us reach out and sing to one more person every day. And in the timely words of Rose Kennedy, may we too say,
“Birds sing after a storm, why shouldn’t we.?”

Soraya

It was some time in July when Nadyne called me.
She said she was joining me in the Ramadan fast this year together, with another fellow Christian friend, Brian McLaren. For the last three years Nadyne has joined me in the fast. For those of you who are familiar with the work I do, you know that Nadyne Parr is my friend, as well as my writing and speaking partner.

I met Nadyne 12 years ago in Michigan during the time I was attending college studying for my Masters Degree. We became friends instantly. An Indian professor whom I met at the university, invited me to dinner. I remember feeling very anxious and apprehensive as I hiked a ride to the dinner. I recall feeling a ting of excitement. Rarely, if ever do professors invite their students to dinner in Sri Lanka. That's where I'm from. I met Nadyne at that dinner. A month later I went to live with her and her Mom; Barbara. I realized then that the chance meeting, over twelve years ago now, was indeed more than a mere coincidence.

Ours was a friendship based on curiosity, mutual respect and love. We embraced the differences in our individual cultures, religion, and backgrounds. I liken the pace of our interaction to a train gaining momentum as it embarks on a distant journey. We grew to accept and acknowledge our beings. We cuddled late at night, with Mom in her queen bed, covered in a white laced quilt - most nights, laughing away the time - watching Jay Leno . During a vacation, they took me to Florida. I made friends with their friends, and they, with mine. I cooked rice and curry with Channa while Mom (Barbara) introduced me to banana nut bread, mashed potatoes, and gravy. Today every trip to Michigan includes a little of my Sri-Lankan cooking, mixed with their American traditions. It's beautiful.

Barbara was a compassionate Christian. She noticed me. She took the time to see. She shared with me the love Jesus. When I was looking for a place to live, she opened her doors. She made her home, mine. I remember as a little girl reading stories about how Jesus didn't just tell His people what to do, he did it. He modeled what He wanted them to see. That's what Barbara did. I LOVE HER. From Barbara (I call her "Mom"), I learned powerful lessons about opening my home to people in need.

When I think about this year's fast, beginning today, and I learn that Brian McLaren (www.BrianMcLaren.net) - voted one of TIME Magazine's 25 Most Influential Evangelicals in America - is partnering with us for the great cause of peace in the world, I can't believe the impact of his gesture. Will he be blamed and shamed for this? Will his message be heard and received in the spirit in which it is intended? Will it unite us or divide us? Will we as a human race recognize and rejoice in the knowledge that as my father would say “all rivers flow to the same sea.”?

The best work is team work. Here's what we're doing. Nadyne and I are partners in fasting (Fasting Friends). We check on each other every day. We follow up, at day's end. We talk about our various practices. We support and encourage each other in the fast. And so, Brian has found a partner in Eboo Patel. (Founder of the Interfaith Youth Core and author of Acts of Faith). And from what I understand, they will be sharing similar exchanges. Several other Christian leaders are joining us as well. Wow!

As a mother, one of my fervent prayers has always been for the unity of faiths and peace. It is for this purpose that I dedicate my life and passion. The question I ask with renewed fervor everyday is, “What can I do today for peace on earth? What is the legacy we are leaving for our children? Is it one of HOPE and LOVE? Or is it one of hate and despair?” My son Farajh, 10 years old now, sums it up well, when he observes “Mummy, if I collected $2.00 for every time you use the word "peace", I'd be a millionaire!”

If this Ramadan is the first step in the journey of a thousand miles, how profound would it be if we can engage others to join us? We can all as Gandhi would say, “keep walking...!"

Ramadan Mubarak!
Soraya.

Labels: Ramadan

I carry a small, smooth stone in my pocket. You've seen them. They're usually bright colors with a word written on one side. You can get them at bookstores and novelty shops. I like how smooth they are and instead of a bunch of other things I could be doing with idle time, I like to rub them. Maybe like you, I like to pick at things. Sometimes it's peeling paint, or a broken nail; a patch of dry skin, or a nasty weed patch; fading nail polish or strands of hair... I just like to see things "right", so I "fix" them. There, I confessed it. So, my hands need to be busy for some reason. Well, with these stones, I carry them as reminders; reminders of something larger than the actual word itself, written on a stone.

In this case, the word is PEACE. Funny how I can be about my day doing all the mundane things that any day brings and simply reach in my pocket, maybe for a quarter, or again, something to do with my hands, and I stumble across this symbol of what I stand for. I can be frustrated with the fast pace of the clock and a poky little girl who won't get in the car, as we're running late to an appointment, or walking downstairs to my husband's office contemplating on what annoyances I need to bring to the light to get him to do what I want (or not). I can wonder how an awkward phone conversation is going to land with a friend, or be afraid of the day my mother finally leaves this earth. I can be uncertain if we'll be able to pay our bills, or ever get that little dog Ava is dreaming to have... and then I rub my fingers across the smooth surface of that stone, and offer a prayer heavenward, and somehow my heart is calmed. I am instantly reminded of a big God who is yet, present with me... in those moments, that seem so insignificant. I think about the vastness and yet the minor details of the word PEACE and consider the idea that if it doesn't occur in the tiny corners of my mind and the seemingly trite incidences of a typical day, than it can't occur in the big places; the big places in my life, or you and your life if I meet you. And if you and me have any impact in the world, than the interactions we live out can in fact, spread to cities and states and countries and continents and can effect change that moves the mountains.

Today is the beginning of the holy month of Ramadan; a season where our Muslim friends fast for thirty days in honor of the practice of the prophet Mohammad, whom they believe received the inspiration to write the Q'uran during that time. I, as a Christian, and in love and friendship with my PEACE MOMS friend Soraya, observe this holy season myself and use this time to stop. To stop my hectic pace. To notice, in extra measure, my fear and judgments. To examine my heart and motives. To pray, to read, to ask my Savior Jesus to meet me in new and powerful ways. Undoubtedly, this season brings about unparalleled spiritual growth for me, that reaffirms my faith, redefines my goals, and fuels my fire for loving God and loving others - amidst my human tendencies to give up, give out, and give in. Fasting from all the things I think I can't live without jolts my head into what counts. What really counts. I learn that I have a lot to learn. I see that my eyes have been closed. I notice that my ears have been shut. I regret that my mind has been apathetic. I recognize that my heart has grown cold. It is in fasting that my senses are so heightened, that I am brought to a spiritual and heavenly place there aren't words to describe. To that place, where if peace can really exist in the world... it does right there.

And so, I invite you. I ask you to consider where you might be closing your eyes and ears, and tuning out your hearts in a way that has made you so numb, you might not know Jesus if He were sitting at your table. What if He is longing to wash your feet and you don't even know it's Him. Maybe you need a stone in your pocket, or even one of those decorative words you see in peoples' homes, hanging on the wall. Maybe over your desk you need to put up a chalkboard and on it, write "peace". Maybe that will draw your attention to the details that really define who you are. I don't know what it is for you. For me, right now, it's a small round stone. I hold it and know, at least for now, all is well. And that "as far as it depends on me, I'm going to be at peace with everyone" (Romans 12:18), most especially the little girl and sweet husband who are gonna hate it right now, that I have to wake them up to start the day.

Shalom friends,
Nadyne

I had an audition last week that nearly ate me for breakfast. I'm not kidding. I wanted this gig like I've never wanted anything. I've been an actor for 20 years and I've wanted a lot of parts, but not like I wanted this. I prepared for it for three weeks... the way I ate, the things I did with my time, the people I talked with, the things I watched on television, the things I read, the amount of miles I ran ... I monitored EVERYTHING. I wanted nothing to get in the way of those producers pulling my name out of the pile as the best woman for the job. Getting the gig would have lightened my load considerably and allowed me the privilege to just "be" for awhile instead of all the searching and pursuing I do. In my interpretation, this was the dream job.

The life of an actor is full of uncertainty. Giving too much energy to an audition is never a good thing. Those of us in the biz know, when we audition, we need to do our best and then move on. If the phone rings and we get called back, then that's the icing. The actual job of the actor is to audition. Getting an audition is more than half the battle. Well, I've been in that anxious place of wanting and not having for far too long. It's making me old before my time. So, I was making this opportunity my last chance and then if it didn't happen, I was considering giving it all up. "I'm done with this madness, " I threatened. I just knew I couldn't handle this kind of stress much more in life.

I walked into the audition room. There, behind the table were Randy, Paula, and Simon and a camera man. I'd walked in that room before. I even knew those people judging me. I knew them well. Randy, Paula, and Simon - they were not - but it sure felt like that must feel, standing in front of them. So, they asked me questions and I answered them. I smiled and spoke clearly. I made them smile. I spoke with clarity and conviction - trying hard not to fall out of my chair from nervousness - which, by the way, you'd have to be blind not to see. I had cotton mouth and the shakes. And though I was wearing my power red dress and black patent leather heals, bringing some attention to my Katie Couric tan legs, I felt like a boy in the 10th grade asking a girl to the dance for my first date. It's embarrassing to think about it. I'm not even sure why I'm telling all of you about it right now, but there's a point here.

When I walked out of that room, I had a confidence I won't forget. I felt certain I had nailed it. For the rest of the day I told friends that this was it for me. That I could finally have the moment in show business for which I had long been preparing. People were praying. Praying hard. As a matter of fact, more people than I even knew, were invested. That's how much I had hyped this thing up. Anyway, I was told that if I was going to get a call back, I would hear by the end of the next day. The next day came. I did a lot of nothing, except hold my cell phone and wait for it to vibrate. It never did. Not at lunch time. Not at 3pm. Not at 5pm. I was on an evening walk with my husband - hoping to help pass the time. At about 6pm, I decided to send a text to the Executive Producer - who was one of those judges I knew. He delivered the bad news in the kindest way possible. His typed words back simply read, "They've made a decision and you did not make the Top 5. I'm so sorry Nadyne :o(" I just walked in silence holding on to that information. All the while, my heart breaking. I didn't want Kevin to see my pain. He has seen that too much. So, I was just quiet.

The rest of the night was full of awkward silence. Except for a little phone call I made. One of the gals auditioning for the job happened to be a friend of mine; one of those kind of friends I admire a lot. She's got it all. Really. Great looks. Great heart. Great mind. Great talent. Adorable baby and doting husband. I had her on my mind thinking for sure - that out of the 140 people auditioning - she would get the job. That if it wasn't mine to have, I wanted it to be hers. But, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't feeling a little jealous - which, was kind of a new thing for me; this kind of jealousy. I talked with God a lot right then and what I heard Him saying to me was, ".. until you completely release this thing, you can't move forward. You're going to be stuck and angry for a long time." I had to talk to her. So, I just called to wish her well... to give her my blessing, to release the dream for me and give it to her. And, as expected, she was generous about everything, almost to the point of giving the job to me if she could. I hung up from that conversation, feeling free. And as quickly as the jealousy set in, I was free from it. Free to celebrate with her.

When I think about what Peace is, I think about this. The idea that I can want something and not get it and shut down and be mad or I can let it go and give it to someone else, setting aside my original dream and just dream a new one. That without doing this kind of internal work, I'll live in the place of resentment and anger and then there is no room for something new and wonderful to happen either to me or in relationship to others.

I made it okay through the evening. I sat in my backyard hammock for awhile, listening to the crickets sing their summer cadence. I contemplated the emotional journey I had just been on, and felt the smile of God in it all. It was satisfying. But there were other moments I'd fall apart in tears feeling like there were no dreams left. When my little girl and I were snuggled in bed saying goodbye to the day, just after reading her a story, I cried again - thinking about the pain of it all. She saw my tears, reached out and touched my arm and simply said, "Mommy, you're going to be okay. There are other auditions in the world." Turns out, she's right.