Category Archives: Wendy Welch

A Mirror Darkly?

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After working the voting precinct last week, I’m still processing. But one thing that’s coming up over and over again, is how much people around me espouse a God who looks like them. Acts like them. Believes what they believe.

Not that they believe what God believes. Their God believes what they do. Their God has opinions on weaknesses, in particular, that don’t align with the New Testament Jesus. You only have to read the New Testament once to understand, God has been redesigned. And to my, well, frightened eyes, he sounds in their mouths like an angry white guy.

This freaks me out, because at first it made me feel superior; I was on the right side of God! Our God is an Awesome God, a Mighty God, a God we seek to know. To Know God and make God known -I am doing it correctly!

And then I started to drill down in my own life, what I believed about God, what God wanted from me, what I was meant to be doing…..

….and it sure looked a lot like what I wanted to do. Like what made me comfortable. Like what benefited me. Like everyone else should think like me, understand God with the depth that I do.

My God is ethnocentric? Help us, Jesus. God in the hands of angry sinners is a terrible thing to contemplate.

So these days my prayer is, Jesus, help me interpret what I’m seeing in front of me the way you want me to. You gave us all personalities, you say in the Bible that some are hands and some are ears (and that means at least one of us has to be the liver). So okay, we have to be who you formed us to be and we see the world through the eyes you gave us.

But dear Jesus, please don’t let me reform you into who I decided I needed you to be, rather than who you are. That’s going to be way more important soon. This is going to get ugly. Don’t let me believe in the angry white guy God, and please don’t let me redesign God into a tree hugger who thinks everyone could benefit from a warm chocolate chip cookie, either. I’m listening, carefully, and with a lot more humility now. Help, please. Thank you.

Trickle Down

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Yeah, I know it’s been awhile guys. There was this hurricane, see. And I’ve pitched a book to my agent about the hurricane in partnership with a reporter colleague from Inside Appalachia days (Roxy Todd) and we were flat out either delivering supplies or gathering stories. Keep you posted on that.

But here we are, back to a world of normalcy and trying not to think about muddy water 24/7, and the Governor’s Summit on Prosperity began last night, hosted in my town at our most posh hotel. Live music and fresh veggie trays with cute little finger food nibbles lined the tables, while a whole lot of suits and dresses swirled on the patio in a “see and be seen” dance.

The weekend before this began, I was running a medical conference at BREAKS Interstate Park. It’s always a bit of a guessing game to know how many people will actually make it up the mountain to eat with us, so I take any leftover food from that event to the local motels where those in transience can get some nutritional content from great cooking. Two pans of lasagna went to the Econolodge and the Travel Lite when I got home Sunday, along with some breakfast trays.

So Monday night I’m staring at the swirling skirts and hearing the wall of sound so many individual conversations become in a networking space, the words that just bounce off your eardrums and you don’t need to hear them to know what’s being said anyway, and I wondered–what are they going to do with the leftover food?

Three conversations up the hierarchical ladder later, I was talking to someone very polite with “manager” in her title who had clearly never been asked this question before. First she needed to talk to Kristie, who organized the event and paid for everything. I got Kristie’s approval. Then Ms. Manager thought we might need to ask the health department if it was okay. Which made me giggle but it was a noisy night and she was busy so we agreed to connect the next day.

The theme of the evening was rural prosperity. The Boling Wilson where the reception with the live music and the pork belly squares and the sweet little corn and cheese and tomato toppers on flat bread were being served to the people who were going to make life better for everyone, was across the street and down a block from the Travel Lite, where the lucky unhoused manage to get vouchers for a week at a time.

Maybe that’s enough metaphor for one day, this being my first blog in awhile. I’ll let you know what happens to the food. Y’all have a good day.