I’ve mentioned here before that a couple of times a year I am in a theater production at Center on the Square Dinner Theater in Searcy, Arkansas. I usually play a sassy or crotchety old lady, having been type-cast from the beginning. I also do other volunteer work for the theater, mostly as a hostess for the productions seating patrons.  I was there in this capacity Saturday night when a man called me to his table and he and his wife told me how much they had enjoyed me in the most recent play.  Now, this is definitely one of the perks of being a hostess — that of compliments and accolades by the adoring fans who recognize me.

The man went on to say, “You were so funny in your last play. We always enjoy you, but this one was particularly funny.” I smiled graciously, basking in the glow of their admiration. But I couldn’t help think to myself, Let’s see. The last play I was in was “The Women” in February. I had four small walk-on parts, none of them particularly funny, just slightly amusing.  But, some people are easily entertained.

About an hour later it dawned on me that he had me confused with my friend, Ann Nieto, who was in the most recent play “Dearly Departed”, which was hilariously funny, especially Ann’s character.  Now, Ann and I don’t really look alike, except we’re both about my age and have grey hair. And of course we’re both very funny on stage.

So, there’s another perk. I not only get praise for my work, but for Ann’s as well.

“Blessed are the peacemakers …” none other than Jesus himself said this. It is one of the Beatitudes in Matthew 5. Thomas a Kempis said, in Imitation of Christ, “First keep the peace within yourself, then you can also bring peace to others.” “It is easier to make war than peace,” is attributed to Georges Clemenceau, French statesman during WWI. King Solomon, in the book of Proverbs, has much to say about the value of a peaceful existence – and he was a man with many wives. Peace is a fruit of the spirit listed in Galatians 5:22. So, have I convinced you that peace is a good thing? Thus, blessed are the ones who strive to make peace where there is none.

I am a peacemaker. My sign is Libra, the blindfolded woman with the scales. I hate conflict and confrontation, yet more than once I have found myself in the middle of a row, acting as mediator.

This is not a safe place to be. Several years ago, I had two friends who argued. I lost the friendship of both because I wouldn’t take sides. Nations who try to remain neutral are criticized and hated by both sides in the conflict as the idea “if you’re not with me you are against me” prevails.

So what is the role of the peacemaker? In the Beatitudes, each group mentioned is promised a reward for being who they are. And it doesn’t say “Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall find peace.” Nor will we be be comforted or inherit the earth. It says we “shall be called the Children of God.” I take that to mean that after we have lost all our friends through our efforts at peacemaking, God will still love us and call us his children. Amen.

It is not lost on me that I am writing this on the day we honor mothers, the all-time award-winning keepers of the peace – at least while we have the authority to send each war monger to a different corner of the house.

God bless mothers – and peacemakers – everywhere.

One day, twenty something years ago, the doctor I was working for called me into her office to tell me my job had been deleted. Not only was I blindsided by this news but I was a bit astounded. I was office manager, working over my 40 hours most weeks. How could that position be deleted? She gave me a month’s salary and a letter of recommendation stating the conditions of my termination. I was asked to finish the day. That meant I had to suck it up, postpone crying and try to tie up loose ends.

I knew I had not done anything wrong , yet as the word circled the office, the other girls working there avoided making eye contact with me. (And because I still feel a little paranoid, I have to add that a week later, the doctor’s sister was office manager). Friends at church who knew I had lost my job never addressed the issue and talked about everything else in the world when we were together. I thought: They all think it’s my fault. I should be wearing a scarlet F –  for FIRED.

A few years later I found out a lot more about downsizing. The non-profit agency I worked for was in dire straits. The announcement was made that positions would be cut. Of three in the office, one would go. I figured it was me again – the one making the highest salary would save the agency the most money. But not this time. This time it was last-in-first-out. I did not lose my job.

I exhaled a huge sigh of relief … and breathed in a heart full of guilt. I was very happy about retaining my job but I felt guilty for being happy when someone else was out of work. Just looking at her made me feel worse, so for a full day I tried to avoid her. There didn’t seem to be anything to say without mentioning the elephant in the living room so I stayed away. Then, thankfully, I remembered my own experience and how it felt to be shunned. We finally talked before she had to leave.

Now, as they say, it’s deja vu all over again. In my circle of extended family and friends, five have lost their jobs, for various reasons dealing with “budget cuts,” “downsizing,” “outsourcing,” or “the economy.”  All but four have contracts to fulfill. They must go to work every day, do their job with integrity, deal with the averted eyes, the co-workers who stop talking when they enter the breakroom.

When I get the chance, I’ll tell each of them I know how it feels. Really.