Bees Buzzing In the Middle Space



I’m trying to beat a writing deadline and I’m not quite getting anywhere. So I thought I should blog a bit, you know, to kind of get the creative juices flowing (or to delay working yet again).

So it’s Chick-Fil-A Appreciation Day. A lot of my friends are heading off to Chick-Fil-A for a meal today. We won’t. We were there yesterday, and the boys have had their chicken sandwich fix. For now. Besides, we didn’t eat there for the politics of it.

I really believe Dan Cathy has every right to stand up for what he believes in. Hey, I wish more people would do that. And really, he never said they were ever going to discriminate against anyone. If you’ve ever been to a Chick-Fil-A you’d know it’s a really fun place for kids. And for grown-ups too. With great service. Plus, I like their waffle fries. So more power to the Cathys and their restaurant.

I wish it had stopped there, though. But that’s like wishing for the moon. Of course people are going to jump into the fray. From both sides of the equation. And of course, politicians will be milking this issue for what it is worth, and of course people will start shuffling over to whichever side of the court they feel they belong to.


I wish we wouldn’t though.

And just by saying this, I’m feeling the push back from both sides.


There is tension, and there is tension because for years I’ve been wanting to live in the middle space, a place that my favorite band described this way:

“…It is a place where real conversations about doubt, struggle, faith, love, joy and pain exist in their most genuine and uncensored forms.  We love that the middle space has room for the drug addict and the preacher.  It is a table big enough for those who love God, and those who don’t care about God.”

-Dan Haseltine, of Jars of Clay (


It’s almost like straddling the fence, but doing so for a reason. It’s being seen as “too Christian” by the world, and “too worldly” by the church.  It’s having to learn to live without entirely pleasing both sides, but finding meaning in the space you occupy.


Here’s a snapshot of what the middle space looks like in my life…

I am pro-life, but I would never call myself that. Why? Because it’s gotten so political, so isolating.

We were driving through Ellicott City the other day when we saw protesters along the roadsides, holding up placards with blown up pictures of aborted fetuses. I gagged, then yelled for my kids to close their eyes.

So really, this is being pro-life?

I’m an advocate-in-training at a local pregnancy crisis center. At first I thought I could never do this, because I was against abortion and that meant I had to save babies. Which made every pregnant woman in crisis a suspect, and I had to set out to convince them to choose life. But the law says the choice is the mother’s and so I knew I would lose many times over. So why bother, right?

But during my training, I have learned once again that walls go up when we draw the lines right away. And while I am against abortion, I now understand that every pregnant woman in crisis is someone who needs compassion, without any agenda or bias served up to their already breaking table.

I’m beginning to see, you know, that they see Jesus better when we try to act like Him more.


May I suggest that being pro-life, if we dare explore the idea, is not limited to the issue of abortion. Hungry children were babies once, and so were men and women chained to slaving posts set up to satisfy corporate greed. So being pro-life should mean fighting for every person’s right to live, and to live with dignity and respect.


The beehive mentality. {Yes, I’m borrowing the term from a friend, who used it aptly to describe his church.} This brings to mind Winnie the Pooh’s forever enemies—the bees that make his beloved honey. We’re pretty much like those beleaguered bees, except we don’t have to be.

But we do, sticking out our stingers whenever we feel threatened.

It’s really self-defeating, because we make it about them and us. And we pretty much never get to talk about the real Jesus. You know, the One who had every right to cast the first stone but didn’t.

One response »

  1. What I hate about this is that he didn’t even protest against gay marriage. Just stated his own belief and opinion. This makes me believe that free speech really is subjective.

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