milk & honey mamas

by Carol Madsen

(This guest post is not a Hebrew Bible post, but I think it so perfectly captures the tensions and agonies of the Bible. The text we’re reading this year is the story of a beloved community who consistently fracture, wound, and separate from each other. This is a very relevant story for our fractured, wounded, deeply unjust world. What does it mean to have community in the midst of profound ruptures and wrongs? What does it mean to create community in the face of injustice? What does it mean to belong? -Kristen)

Born and raised in Provo Utah, Carol met and luckily married the most talented and good man at the far too young age of 20. She never could have predicted the beautifully full and often messy life of an active duty military family for 24 years. She has 5 amazing daughters who astonish and exceed her in every way (well, except pickleball). After her husband’s military retirement and with most kids now grown, she with her husband moved to Idaho Falls, Idaho. She is currently a PhD student in instructional design and technology at Idaho State University.

Something beautiful has happened this year for me. I took up pickleball. Now that may not seem very significant, but it has become like a part time job. When I come home I let people know how my day at work was. Some days are better than others, really like any job. But I love it, and I have come to believe that pickleball may be the path towards peace. You might think I’m exaggerating or that it’s even sacreligious to say that, but let me explain. (For those of you who have looked down the page and have seen that this is a long explanation, I hear you, I see you, and I have italicized the important points so you can skim if you want to).

I now have a group of around 40 friends who know my name. And I know theirs. And my group of friends is beautifully diverse (by Idaho Falls standards). I have played with people from ages 14-90. Economically, some of the players are barely making ends meet, and others are multi millionaires. Some are manual laborers while others have MD/PhDs. We have diverse religious backgrounds, from an evangelical pastor, to devout catholics, to ex-mormons, to born again Christians, to non-religious, to active Latter Day Saints. Some believe the bible literally, some symbolically, and some not at all. We have varied political views. There are flag flying and t-shirt wearing MAGA folks playing with Never-Trumpers. We have gay and straight players. We have very different experiences, views, and opinions. Yet we love to come together.

When we are waiting for our turn to play, our friendship is deepened. I have naturally talked to people about their special needs children, being widowed or divorced, challenging family relationships, overcoming cancer, being in treatment for cancer, being in a car accident, selling a house, building a house, and being put into assisted living. 

Our differences have dissolved into kinship over the common love of the game and the desire to improve. We learn from each other as we bring different strengths. We cheer for each other organically as we are partnered on the court. And off the court we honestly want good things for each other. It feels miraculous in this climate. Maybe this is Zion? If not yet, it is to me, as Martin Luther King Jr described, a Beloved Community. We play together as family, with refinement as the driver. And this being true even when refinement isn’t very apparent. 

We don’t get angry at mistakes, our own or each other’s, because we all make them. When we have all the time in the world to make a perfect shot, it sometimes goes out. When we have vast confidence in slamming the ball, it sometimes goes into the net. And, we all praise and admire the great shot, angle, huge slam, amazing return, and strategic spot. We love a good game, even when we lose. And we all have off games, but we don’t give up. We are willing to be vulnerable and lose (sometimes badly) because we are in a supportive group that refines us. 

This Beloved Community is created by a shared desire to improve while acknowledging that improvement requires losing and things not always going our way. This alone is a beautiful lesson. And we keep showing up, ready to play, willing to cheer, and humble enough to shrug off ours and our partners’ mistakes. It reminds me of the quote by Rumi “Out beyond our beliefs of right doing and wrong doing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.” I’m telling you, it’s a beautiful field, or in this case, court. So off to work I go. I’ll meet you there!