This fall Transfiguration and First United Methodist of Dallas are co-sponsoring an evening with writer and activist Glennon Doyle. Glennon is the author of two New York Times bestselling books, the creator of the online community Momastery.com, and the founder of Together Rising, which has raised millions in service of vulnerable people around the world. Glennon will speak on Monday, September 25, about how we can create a more compassionate community in spite of the challenges that besiege us, both as individuals and as a wider society. You can get tickets here.
I hope you’ll consider inviting one or two people to join you who may not be “church people,” because although she is Christian, Glennon has a way of talking about life that resonates deeply with folks no matter their religious background. She speaks plainly and honestly about her own shortcomings, and her wisdom is not couched in fancy words or stale platitudes, but comes from the richness of ordinary life.
Just this morning I read her most recent reflection, which is quintessential Glennon: wise and insightful and applicable no matter where we find ourselves.

 
A couple of years ago, during one of my trips with the girls to visit the cats at the Humane Society, each girl was immediately drawn to a particular kitten. I had a favorite too. Tish, Amma, and I quietly snuggled with our favorites for a while. Then I looked at Tish and said, “Why is that one your favorite? What do you like so much about that one?” Tish looked down at her kitten and said, “I think because she likes me. She came over and wanted to play with me.” Then Amma said, “Me too. I like mine because she likes me. She keeps staying close to me and looking up at me.”
Hm. I was surprised. I was expecting the girls to say: “I like that she’s fluffy, I like that this one’s striped. I like that this one’s energetic.” But they didn’t say that at all. They just said: I like the one that likes me. So I looked down at my favorite and thought, Huh. Same here. I didn’t even notice that she was regal and dignified and warm until she came over and sat with me. First, she liked me. Then, I liked her.
I really, really think the secret to being loved is to love. And the secret to being interesting is to be interested. And the secret to having a friend is being a friend. Why don’t we want to believe that? We insist that we need to be the smartest or the most interesting or the most successful or the most beautiful to get people’s attention. But maybe we don’t. Maybe we just have to show a little interest. Maybe the surest way to be liked by people is simply to like people.
But that’s a risk right? To openly like someone? To admit to someone: I like you. I’d like to spend time with you today. It’s to risk rejection. It’s vulnerability. It’s brave.
What Glennon says is true, and echoes the cherished prayer of St. Francis: “Grant that we may not so much seek to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.” Yes, our world needs the healing of Christ, the healing that comes from understanding and empathy and compassion, and it starts with us.
 
-Casey+