Mourning, Grieving, Healing, and Reconciliation

A few days ago, I received a text message from a long time friend asking me to give him a call when I had a moment. I responded as quickly as I could—this friend wouldn’t make a request like that unless he had something really important to share. When I called, he told me that Joseph Crow Neale, a one-time very close friend of ours, and the principle chief of my tribe, had passed away from a heart problem earlier in the week.  He was under sixty years of age, and from what I gather, his health had been in decline, but no one thought his light would be extinguished so soon.

I was beside myself as I took in this news, and unsure how to respond. For years, I had prayed that somehow our friendship would be reconciled and restored, and that we would be able to pick up where we left off, but this news took away any hope of that future outcome on this side of eternity.

Over the last few days as I have had space to reflect and grieve, I’ve given a lot of thought to the important role he had in my life and in the lives of many other people. He wasn’t perfect, and as much as we ourselves are able to see our shortcomings, he would have been ready to admit them.

He was generous with his time, and would spend hours with young men and women in our tribal community, and he would patiently teach them as much of our tribal traditions as they were willing to learn. He always wanted to make sure the younger generation could feel proud of their Shawnee heritage, and that they could hold onto some memories of our ceremonial ways and traditions. I had a conversation recently with a member of our tribe reminiscing over how much he cared for her youngest daughter when she was brought to our tribal grounds as an infant. He said, “These young children are the next generations of our people.”

I remember when my best friend in the whole world, Willie, had his daughter and son on our tribal grounds for the first time. Crow went out of his way to always make sure these children were included. On one occasion, Crow took paints with Emalee, Willie’s daughter, and had her “help” him decorate a coconut shell rattle.  I believe making gestures like this to include young people like Emalee, likely positively shaped her own memories of what it was like to grow up in a tribal community.

Crow and his late father were always willing to share responsibilities and give our people opportunities to learn by doing. In allowing others to gather materials for ceremonies or take care of various aspects of preparation, he would allow people to make mistakes, and then use these mistakes as an opportunity to educate. He valued giving people an opportunity to at least attempt to figure things out on their own before intervening.  

Crow would work tirelessly for our tribal community. Every year he set a goal of making some type of improvement to the land, and he sought to involve whoever was willing to help make those improvements. He launched into the construction of our tribal council house (designed by his uncle, Flying Duck), and he also led work parties in the construction of an arbor, the transit and assembly of a supply shed granted from Fort Necessity, as well as the creation of an earthen oven.

Crow encouraged our people to explore and visit the sites of some of our ancestral villages. In fact, I remember one occasion where the owner of a piece of property that was once the site of one of our villages allowed us to take a few stones back to our ceremonial grounds as a gesture to symbolically reconnect us with those lands. We took road trips all over West Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, and Ohio to help ourselves and other Shawnees to connect with their past.

Crow and his father were two of the first people I ever saw pursue servant leadership actively. By tradition, chiefs usually would eat first during feasts, but for Crow and his late father, they chose to eat last—they believed that it was a more important principal to ensure that everyone in the tribe had eaten—and that elders would eat first. They taught by example that we take care of our elders, and that we seek the good of others before we seek our own welfare. This concept is in line with our common Christian heritage as well as much of Native tradition.

He and his father allowed me to spend a summer living with them and learning the old ways back when I was in college, and during the months after graduating and before I started my first “grown-up” job, they invited me back into their home where I continued to learn from their leadership and mentorship. Thankfully I was offered an opportunity to give back (and learn additional skills) by helping put a roof on their house and repair parts of the home that had fallen into disrepair. Toward the end of my time with them that fall, they handed me $200 for “helping out.” That same day, my mom called to tell me that my first student loan payment form came in the mail—I owed $200. They had providentially helped me address that financial need.

Crow and his dad helped me grow in my relationship with Christ from some of the earliest moments of my walking with Christ. I witnessed their examples of generosity with time and resources (along with similar examples from friends in Morgantown), and sought to emulate their rich faith, and learn as much as I could about Jesus and the Bible. Crow used to listen to the Bible on cassette everywhere he went, and, as a result, he was incredibly familiar with the scriptures. He often had a timely verse for various situations.

The last time I remember speaking to Chief Crow was in the fall of 2004. I had just heard a sermon about recognizing people who had been a positive influence in your life, and when possible letting them know the valuable role they had in helping you become a better person. I was driving home to visit my parents in Parkersburg, West Virginia, and I thought, “I’m going to call Crow and thank him for the positive influence he had been in my life.” And so I called out of the blue, and told him just that. I thanked him for the lessons he had shared with me, and for the important role he had played in helping me become the person I had become, and for taking the time to pour into myself and many others. He thanked me and let me know he appreciated the gesture and the words, and then we said goodbye for what ended up being the last time.

Looking back from this present vantage point, I would have never imagined that this conversation would be the closest he and I would come to reconciliation on this side of eternity. I can only imagine there are many others who have had similar relationships with people with whom they never get to experience the full reconciliation that they hope would happen on this side of eternity. Crow’s untimely demise is a very compelling and sobering reminder of the importance of keeping short accounts with others, and striving, so far as it depends on you, to be at peace with others.  Not everyone has an opportunity for those types of conversations, but when we do, we should take them. There is healing and reconciliation that can take place for all.

And now, as I think about Chief Crow’s legacy, it is my heartfelt prayer that our people will continue to move forward even more strongly, and that we will collectively embody all of these wonderful attributes of this leader who has gone to be with Jesus. To me, I feel like that is the greatest way we can honor those who no longer walk this earth, and it is a gesture of reconciliation and healing that can carry forward into future generations for the good of all people.

Ash Wednesday 2016 And Lenten Commitments

Each year, on Ash Wednesday millions of Christians around the world begin a pilgrimage of sorts. Ash Wednesday begins a period of intentional reflection and deeper identification with Jesus as individuals add disciplines or fast from certain foods or activities during the weeks leading up to Resurrection Sunday. For me personally, I have found Ash Wednesday and the Lenten season to be an incredible period for assessing where I am in my faith journey and for resetting or recalibrating my focus. It is so easy over the course of a year to become distracted or start a gradual or subtle slide into lethargy, complacency, or worse, and to lose sight of one's purpose or focus because of those urgent but often unimportant activities that can quickly swarm to drown out the voice of Jesus.

Today, I started Ash Wednesday in the way I have for many years, after a tradition instilled in me by my former chief. Although today was somewhat different because I did not actually make it to a gathering to receive ashes, I did carve out time in my early morning this morning, and my late evening last night to consider what I would be doing to grow in my faith and "journey with Jesus in the wilderness" during this season. Would I add to my devotional habits or practice self-denial in order to more fully connect and identify with Jesus during the weeks leading up to Easter?

Here is where I have landed. For the last eight years, I have walked through this book, Developing Intimacy With God by Alex Aronis. This book was suggested to me by a good friend of mine, JR Woodward, during the summer of 2008 as I was considering a potential shift in vocation. The book is an excellent framework for walking through the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. After reading Aronis' book for the first time in 2008, I have gone through it at least once a year--usually during Lent. And, I plan on doing the same this year--that's my Lenten commitment.

Why do the same thing? I have found this book to be an incredible gift, far beyond what I would have considered when JR suggested it a few years ago. It has been a gift because it has helped me to cultivate greater simplicity and generosity in my life, and it has helped me to grow in my relationship with God. Each time I come to the book, it encourages me toward an abiding in Christ, and rather than concerning myself with what I can do for Christ, the exercises encourage me to simply spend time with Christ. In a world that is growing increasingly distracted and "busy," taking this time to reset and refocus has been transformative, and in my opinion, could be one of the best things we do for spiritual health.

What about you? Do you have any Lenten traditions you have or commitments you are making this year as you take time to identify with Jesus during his wilderness fast and journey to the cross?

May each of us who participate in this ancient tradition grow in the depth of our love for God and neighbor, and may this growth spill over into action for the good of the world.

New Year's Day 2016

Every year, for as long as I can remember, members of my family have gathered on New Year's Day for a meal and quality time together at my Uncle Russell and Aunt Flora's. My aunt and uncle work hard to transform their living room into a long row of tables to accommodate the growing group.

For me, it is one of my favorite times of year. When we gather there is a ton of laughter, lots of food, football on the TV, and stories both old and new being shared and made. I snapped the photo above while listening to my dad and his three living brothers share stories from their childhood and some of their adventures together. Looking at the photo I found myself thinking about the fact that when these guys get together, there is nearly 300 years of wisdom and experience in the room. And these guys are all really healthy and filled with joy. I try to savor every moment and learn as much as I can from these men. They have each led an incredibly full and richly blessed life.

This year was a little different for me and Jamie. We drove to Lake Floyd on New Year's Eve, watched a movie with Jamie's parents, and watched the old year fold into the new. By the time we woke, Jamie's dad had already completed his first workout of the year, and over breakfast, he shared the details of what he thought was one of the hardest workouts he had done in quite some time.

After a quick breakfast, we headed out to Parkersburg for New Year's dinner at Russ and Flora's, but not without first stopping by my dad's to surprise him and travel with him. My Uncle Bill stopped by too, so we were all able to travel together. There's something really fun about a car full of family making a journey no matter how short the distance. It also meant we wouldn't fill up all of the parking places, and we could be good stewards of our limited resources, and the environment. :)

After a day full of food, fun, football, and fantastic stories, we helped with the cleanup and restoration of Russ and Flora's living room before making our way back to my dad's to call it a day. And what a day it was! I am hopeful that 2016 will be an incredible year--it certainly started well.

May we all have a year filled with family and friendship, laughter and love, and stories and service.

New Year’s Dinner At Russ & Flora’s

Among my extended family, we don’t have a lot of ‘family traditions’ per se, but there are some things we have always shared time for on an informal basis. Those things include telling jokes, going fishing, playing games, and watching and talking about WV Mountaineer sports. It seems like it doesn’t really matter how long it has been since we have gotten together, but we can always make time for these things.

But there has also been one “sort of” extended family tradition. My Uncle Russell and Aunt Flora have always had a New Years Day dinner that they prepped and then invited my folks, my brother, my sister, and me over to enjoy with them. To my recollection, I’ve only missed this meal a couple of times. Last year, I missed it because Jamie and I were on our way to enjoy our free Orange Bowl tickets. In 2006, I missed it because I was serving at a conference held in Amsterdam (one of my favorite cities) for GCM’s European churches. Outside of those occasions, I can’t really remember missing New Year’s Day at Russ & Floras.

I can remember as a little kid, we had two tables in Flora’s kitchen One was for the grown ups (or near grown ups), and the other was for us kids. I also remember others being able to visit during the meal as well. For instance, my best friend in the whole world, Willie, has sat at the table with his family on multiple occasions, and my friends Curtis and Derek (and my then girlfriend Jamie) joined us after attending a conference (and a bowl game) in North Carolina. Of course, there were the usual New Year’s activities of watching college football and talking about the Mountaineers, my Aunt Flora’s delicious rolls, and, always, lots and lots of laughter.

This year, it was much of the same (minus the rolls). Flora had to work a good bit of the day, but a few of us kids (especially my cousin Pam), decided we would do what we could to keep the tradition alive. We ordered pizzas and still sat around the same table, watched football, and laughed a lot. Jamie and I drove down on New Year’s Morning, picked up my dad, and we were able to hang out until right around 6PM. Jamie had to be at work at 530AM, so as great as the company was, we really needed to make our way back along Route 50 and I79 from Parkersburg to Morgantown.

As a family, we have been blessed beyond what we realize many times. Sitting in that kitchen yesterday with my cousins, I couldn’t help but think about how much love had been in our midst our entire lives. Of course none of us see each other as much as we would like, and that is always the case with family and others we care about deeply.

I can’t help but think that this may be a little bit of what heaven will be like. Lots of laughter, love, and wonderful stories with God sitting in the middle of it all, laughing and smiling with all of the rest of us.

Do you have any annual family traditions or gathering times with extended family or friends? If so, I hope you treasure those times, and if you do not have any traditions like this, maybe it is time to start them! 

Five Years

Today marks five years since my mom left this world and journeyed to be with Jesus. The time has passed so quickly. It really feels weird to think about how much my life and the life of my family has changed since she went home to be with Jesus. I wish she could have been around to see it all, and that she was still here with us, but she has gone on to a far better place. She no longer suffers the challenges of high blood pressure, type two diabetes, congestive heart failure or metastatic invasive carcinoma breast cancer. And when I list out all of those challenges she faced daily, it makes it even more impressive she stayed with us for as long as she did. 

In 2007, I cut a significant amount of my hair in honor of my mom, and in 2008, I cut the remainder of my locks in honor of her, and to mourn her loss as per our Shawnee tradition. I’ve not grown it back since. My brothers, Chuck and Willie, both made sacrifices of their locks as well. Chuck even shaved his mustache—a permanent fixture on his face since the 80s. Even Willie’s son Christian shaved his head in honor of my mom. Willie also wrote this beautiful song to honor and remember her upon her passing. It still brings tears to my eyes as the memories come flooding back of her courageous last days on this earth.

I started my first garden the year my mom died. Over the years, I’ve learned a lot through my dabblings in local agriculture, but more than anything, I’ve been reminded of lessons she and Dad taught me about planting, growing, harvesting, and hard work. Of course like any kid, I didn’t enjoy the discipline at the time, but I can look back with immense gratitude now.

And within a month of mom saying goodbye, I began to have serious conversations about global poverty and international development withmy longtime friends Jake Harriman and John Hancox. These conversations along with extensive reading and research on the subject, and much prayer, fasting, and wrestling, led me to a significant career change as I joined my friends as they started Nuru International. I’m grateful that I have been able to deepen my service to others, and invite more people to confront the crisis of extreme poverty in our world. I really wish mom could have been here to see what we have been able to accomplish in the five years since she died, but I am incredibly grateful my dad has been here cheering us on in this work.

And a little over a year ago, I got married. I wish my mom could have spent more time with Jamie. She’s absolutely incredible, and I think they would have absolutely loved each other. They are two of the best examples I know when it comes to compassion and caring for people around them.

And then there’s my sister. She left a ten year job at a doctor’s office to start a new career this year. Not only that, but my sister has become quite the runner. It seems like every weekend she is getting a new trophy or award for her running exploits. Since the year my mom went to be with Jesus, Becky has led our family in participation with the Wood County Relay For Life. Mom was never able to attend—the first year, she was in ICU. Little did we know she would be leaving so soon. And Becky had her own bout with cancer in 2007 too. Just a month after mom’s parting, she had a malignant melanoma removed. She’s a survivor.

Dad was walking twelve miles a day, and riding his bike 20-30 miles 2-3 times per week after mom died. And then in 2009, he had a massive heart attack. It was utterly unexpected. Dad has always been healthier than most people half his age. Since that attack he doesn’t walk twelve miles a day anymore, but he is probably in better shape and eating better than ever before. As much as we kids miss mom, Dad lost his best friend of 43 years. Dad continues to be an example of generosity and compassion to others too. He supports Becky at virtually every race she runs, and he maintains his garden the way he has done for years and gives away significant portions of its bounty.

My brother, well he is still working in the same job, but his level of responsibility keeps increasing. He’s an extremely talented engineer. And he lives and loves sacrificially with his time. He’s up at 430AM virtually every day to drive himself and several coworkers to work and stays up late to make sure dogs are walked and chores are done. And further, his son has graduated high school and is a student at Notre Dame (not WVU, but still not a bad education).

And in the last five years, each one of us has grown in our faith as well as in our service to others. My dad just recently took the steps to join his church and was baptized the same day.

On Mom's last trip to the hospital, my sister, dad, and I spent the day with her, and I left the hospital to drive to Morgantown to receive my MA in English. I leaned down to hug her and told her, “I’ll try to make you proud tomorrow mom.” As I stood up, she looked at me with her eyes filled of compassion, as she breathed deeply from the oxygen tube running under her nose. She smiled and said, “Every day you make me proud.” Those words echo in my mind every time I think of her. She loved each one of us well, and she showed us by example, even during her last days, how to love the people who cross our paths in seemingly random ways.

I wish mom was still with us, but one day we will reunite with much rejoicing. And until that day, we will labor, and dedicate the remainder of our days to love God and love others well, and to work to serve our neighbors both locally and globally. I know that if she were here, she would continue to be so proud of each of us. I know she would be cheering us on alongside Dad, and she would be cheering Dad on as he maintains his health and faith so well.

Wherever and whoever you are, you have an opportunity today to make a choice. You and I have an opportunity each day to pour out a legacy of hope and compassion, to wisely steward the gifts we have been given, to love well, and to live well. And I pray we may live as an example worth imitating as we walk this earth, just like Mom.

Parkersburg Half Marathon: 25 Years

I remember when I was in junior high and I was running the one mile race in the wood county track meet, when I first started hearing about the Parkersburg Half Marathon. I had aspirations of one day running this race (in fact, it was one of my goals unrealized for 2011).  My friend Dan Van Valey and I would joke about me getting out there and running with world class athletes for about a hundred yards before I slowed to my mere mortal pace. This year was the 25^th annual Parkersburg Half-Marathon, and while it is no longer the site for the US Men’s National Championship, runners still come from all over the world to compete.

Although I didn’t run the race this year (foot injury), my sister, my brother-in-law, and my wife all three did run it. For my wife it was her second half-marathon. For my sister and her husband, it was their first. Each of them finished with respectable times. Jamie ran a 2:16 (she had a knee flare up around mile 8), Ray ran a 1:55, and Becky ran an incredible 1:47, and placed second in her age group.

I was proud of all three of them for the races they ran. Jamie ran hers with very little training, but focused on following through on the commitment she made. (It would be easy to have quit or just not run, but she is not a quitter!) Ray has had surgery on both of his ankles in recent years and has lost 80 lbs over the last two years. He just turned 58, and he is probably in the best physical shape of his adult life. He is living proof that if you are disciplined about your habits, you can turn around your physical health pretty significantly. I’m super proud of he and Becky for their commitment to their health.

But the runner I was most impressed with is my sister. I can remember telling her (for years!) that if she ever got serious about running, she could be a really good runner. She would laugh at me sometimes when I said it, but I think Saturday she proved something to her self that I already knew. She has what it takes to be a great runner! She ran her race effortlessly, and had energy to spare at the end of the race. She picked up her pace during the last mile and I personally watched her pass six runners during the moments I saw her near the finish line. If ever my sister has doubts about herself, I hope she will remember Saturday and her confidence will return.

I’m super proud of all of the folks who got out there and walked, ran, and wheelchaired their way thirteen miles through the town of Parkersburg. Some were competing with other runners, but the wise ones were competing with their number one competitor—themselves. No one can push you harder than yourself, no one knows better when you are slacking than yourself. And at the end of the day, the other runners probably won’t be going home with you and talking about your performance.

Whatever race you are running today, whether it is a footrace, or a part of the ‘daily grind’ may you run in such a way to win and be the best version of yourself you can possibly be.

Moving to Michigan

Coach Rod at a B-ball Game, originally uploaded by chanchanchepon.

It's been a bit since I blogged--something has been up with my internet, and ironically, since the end of the semester, my week has gotten busier and not slower.

But, I finally got access today at sozo--the friendly little coffee shop in downtown Morgantown. So I had to write about this latest move to michigan.

I can't believe that we lost both of our coaches to Michigan within months of each other. I've been to michigan a couple of times, and I've even spent some time in Ann Arbor. I'm really not sure what the allure is. (Of course I did go in winter, and most of the time I was there was cold, rainy, snowy, and miserable.)

For me it is kind of tough to see, but I don't have all of the details. I have friends who played under Beilein and Rodriguez here in Morgantown, and it was definitely a shock and adjustment for 'em. People are being tight lipped about Coach Rod's move in general. Here's a statement from Athletic Director Ed Pastilong. Not a lot of detail and commentary are floating across the web and other venues. I think most fans and friends are simply shocked that someone from WV who played for WVU would leave a "dream job" like this to go out of state.

So what prompted coach Rod to leave? He just won a BCS bid, and will not even be taking the team to play in the fiesta bowl in January. He has one of the fastest backfields in the country here in Morgantown. He had just signed a huge contract with WVU a year ago (like 3million?) And now this?

I don't get it. I'm saddened by his departure, but life goes on I suppose. It seems like the era of coaches who invested their lives into a program are coming to an end. The days of Coach K, Bobby Bowden, Joe Paterno, and others are coming to an end.

So what do you think about Coach Rod's upcoming move? One person placed the blame on the agents who help coaches find jobs like this, but really, is there any fault in those guys? What''s the real root of the problem?

Speaking of root, maybe that's just the problem. Do we contemplate roots anymore? I think we live in one of the most transient cultures in world history. Maybe the move is just part of the reality that most of us have very little real sense of community. For instance, can you name five of your neighbors? Do you know what they do for a living, and do you really know anything about em?

Just a little food for thought.

Ifs and ands

Here I am after about of week of not writing just thinking about all of the entries i had hoped to make. So much happening in and around my world, and yet I have had very little time to talk about it all. Rather than lament the ifs and ands of life, I am just going to give a brief update of the last few days.

Tuesday night I had some folks over from my class to watch a movie for class. It was really cool. My professor came also and brought her son (he is starting college in the fall). It was just nice to watch a movie and discuss the movie. It has also been cool to be here in Morgantown in the place this summer.

Wednesday was a long day of meetings and planning for the future look and shape of h2o. I also was able to eat some mulberries. I love those things.

Thursday consisted of an ironically relaxing day. I got up at seven, went to class at nine, had a lunch get together, went rock climbing, enjoyed a cup of starbucks, and then proceeded to the grocery store with a few friends, had a delicious meal, and enjoyed watching storm clouds roll in as we all laid on the ground looking up at the sky. We had a fire in my chimineya and blankets on the ground, and it was just a beautiful way to end the day.

Friday--I woke up at 6AM and baked two loaves of bread. Then I went to class for the last time this summer. After class I began prepping for a trip to Cincinnati via columbus. I made fry bread until 1:30AM with my best friend in the whole world and his wife.

Saturday--I woke up @6AM and began cooking fry bread for breakfast for people and taught Christian and Emalee (Willie's children) how to make fry bread. We drove to cincinnati, and I was able to meet my friend karen, and a number of people from her church to discuss a cafe in Morgantown. I then commenced the return trip (with a short side-trip to a pow-wow), and made it home around 11PM.

Ancient Prayer

well, I just got back from my tribe's land. It's the first time I've set foot on that space since the fall of 2004. It was kind of weird.

I really felt like I needed to go somewhere and connect with God. It was such a beautiful evening, so I wanted to make the most of it. Out of nowhere, I felt this prompt to go to "the Mountain." I debated the trip. Why not just go for a walk through the neighborhood. But the thought wouldn't go away. Even though it was late, I hopped in my car, and drove. I knew the moon would be lighting up the land also, but I wasn't sure what was driving me there.

I didn't know how it would be. I had a wonderful time of prayer in the middle of the night, and watched the moon rise over the horizon. It cast shadows across the land.

Up there, it was just me and God, and the natural world. Maybe I was giving myself closure by going, or maybe I was just re-opening old wounds. I'm still trying to figure it out.

It's hard to believe that I once spent so much of my life on that piece of ground. I'm grateful for my unique heritage. I'm even grateful for the learning and growth that have taken place in my life as a result of my experiences among other Shawnee people. In some ways my whole experience among my people, and even the last couple of years, seems so surreal.

Amazingly, God has already answered at least one of my prayers this evening. I look forward to Him answering my prayers for the Shawnee people as well.

Indian in Amsterdam

Indian in Amsterdam, originally uploaded by chanchanchepon.

Zondag Avond (Sunday evening), I had an awesome privilege. I was able to speak to a church in Amsterdam. I dressed in my traditional Shawnee attire, and shared a Shawnee perspective on thanksgiving and the gospel. It struck me as a bit ironic.

You see, the first missionaries came from the netherlands to the native people of america with the gospel, and gave us hope by telling us of the Sacred Visitor.

And here I am going back to Amsterdam to tell them about the One they have forgotten--Jesus Christ.

It brings tears to my eyes to think that maybe somebody who I shared the gospel with Sunday night was a descendant of one of those first dutch pilgrims to leave from Leydn in the 1600s.

What a privilege to be the first Shawnee to speak at the zolder!