Racism and Policing: Sitting in the Tension and Seeking Healing

I will get some things wrong, most likely a lot of things. I will miss something, and fumble through. And, I will do my best to describe the tension I’m attempting to hold while avoiding the binary choices the government, the media, and the masses appear to be suggesting. I can’t stop thinking about the pain and fear I see spilled out on the internet all day every day via hateful memes, name-calling, finger-pointing, us vs. them, either/or, tribalistic, angry rants. I believe we need to start talking about how to stand up for what’s right without perpetuating hate. I believe we need to start talking about how to advocate for holy causes without creating unholy wars on our social media accounts, in our families, neighborhoods, communities, churches, states, and country. I believe we need to press into the hard work it takes to have uncomfortable, and more importantly, humble conversations that result in the kind of change that comes from radical love and courageous action.  

As I read the rhetoric on both sides of the issue of police brutality and systemic racism, I keep coming back to the falsehood of dualistic thinking. I keep clinging to, “yes/and,” while trying to reject the natural response of “either/or.” I struggle to avoid binary choices while continuing to practice non-judgment of those I disagree with. It is uncomfortable and lonely to avoid sides, because choosing a side brings immediate belonging. But, I choose to sit in the discomfort, and plead for God’s love to consume my heart so that I may learn to love others as He loves us all. 

What I know is that I have yet to see or feel the value in clinging to sides, digging into being right, staking my claim, or protecting my tribe at all costs. What I know is that I’ve consistently witnessed good fruit grow from loving, listening, and holding grace with open arms. There has never been a time in my life when I’ve felt a more desperate need to find nuance, while attempting to push mass incivility out of my heart and mind. Rather than run to a side and hunker down in an echo chamber filled with people who agree with me, I believe God is calling me to deeply know that I am no more righteous than my neighbor…that my feelings and opinions are not the only ones that matter…that I don’t have it ALL right, and I never will…that I am living in a broken world that breaks people, and that bold action with a foundation of love and grace will bring healing. 

• Being right doesn’t bring healing. 
• Name-calling and pointing fingers don’t bring healing. 
• Pressing into our agenda doesn’t bring healing. 
• Shame and blame don’t bring healing. 
• Weaponizing our words doesn’t bring healing. 
• Spouting statistics and building defenses don’t bring healing. 
• Gearing up for the next gotcha doesn’t bring healing. 
• Memes don’t bring healing.  
• Cancel Culture doesn’t bring healing.  

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• Healing comes from moving towards that still small voice of the Spirit. 
• Healing comes from listening. 
• Healing comes from grace, love, and forgiveness. 
• Healing comes from putting understanding above being understood.
• Healing comes from allowing ourselves and others to express the emotions that make our bodies sick when kept inside.  
• Healing comes from community…communing. 
• Healing comes from validating one another’s trauma and doing no harm.
• Healing comes from expressing God’s love with our actions, our words, our insistence on putting others before ourselves. 
• Healing comes from pressing into difficult conversations with a hunger to hear over being heard.
• Healing comes from de-centering ourselves and making the human being sitting across from us, God’s own creation sitting across from us, more essential.
• Healing comes from restorative dialogue.
• Healing comes from healthy boundaries. 
• Healing comes from learning what weighs heavy on another’s heart and then pursuing an avenue to lift that weight so that they can soar.  
• Healing comes from loving the other as they need to be loved without conditions. 
• Healing comes from allowing the grace of God to show us how to lift another up, protect another’s heart, save another’s life, vote in another’s favor.
• Healing comes from dismantling structures that allow for abuse, developing policies that lift up the oppressed, creating solutions that are equitable for all, and putting others first as Jesus ALWAYS did! Others first: Every. Single. Time. 

I’m not capable of being the hands and feet of Jesus without his direct movement in my heart, and I’m seeking that movement, praying for that movement, hopeful for that movement as I continue to fight the urge to enter a battle that appears to call for “othering” and division.  

The world, the news, many people I follow on social media suggest I choose between all Black people or all police. The love of Jesus tells me that this is not the choice. The love of Jesus tells me that there is hope for change, hope for restoration, hope for redemption, hope for freedom, and that it stems from a love that permeates our core, a love that calls us to lay our lives down for another, a love that sacrifices self, religion, world-views, politics…a love that calls for death to self. 

As I press in, listen, learn, read, and pray about the next action step I should take to fight racism in our country, I am also holding many “yes/ands” in a tension so great I think my heart will tear down the middle if I don’t disconnect from the dualistic commentary pulling, pressing, pushing us apart in every corner of our lives.  

There is so much I have yet to learn, tomorrow may bring a new set of eyes, AND today my “yes/ands” sound like this:

Our country suffers from systemic racism.
There are police officers who deserve our gratitude.

Policing is born from the evil seed of slave patrols.
There are police officers who abhor evil and selflessly lay their lives on the line each day to serve and protect.  

There are policies steeped in racism that lead to the destruction of Black lives and protect racist police.
There are police officers who would sacrifice their lives to save anyone regardless of their skin color.

There are deadly consequences in communities of color when police breathe air they don’t know is racist.
There are police who have worked to build trusting relationships in Black communities.

There are rioters taking advantage of the cause of peaceful protestors.
The majority of people taking to the streets are doing so peacefully.

There are police pepper-spraying and shooting rubber bullets into peaceful crowds.
There are police officers kneeling and marching with peaceful protestors.

The brutality perpetuated on Black bodies by those who are supposed to protect and serve is sickening. 
There are officers who wear their badge with the spirit of a guardian rather than a soldier. 

There is an urgent need for re-evaluation, re-focus, re-structure, and reform in our country’s policing.
There are men and women in blue who put their lives on the line every day to serve their communities.

I do not know or agree with everything the BLM organization stands for.
I agree and loudly declare without hesitation that Black Lives Matter.  

I empathize with the rage, and do so without judgment.
I do not condone rioting and violence.

I do not believe looting is a solution.
I do believe that no matter the looting, murder is worse, and excusing murder by police must end.

I mourn the loss of Black lives.
I mourn the loss of cops killed in the line of duty.    

Ultimately, what I hope and pray for while I hold these “yes/ands” is that the Lord will transform my heart and thoughts to be more in alignment with his. I continue to ask Him for wisdom on how to better love my neighbor, my enemy, my fellow human who was created in the image of God. I continue to pray for his eyes, his heart, his guidance on how I can move and breathe in a way that will lift up the marginalized, protect the oppressed, and stand for the disenfranchised. I continue to ask him what it is I can do to be a light in the midst of collective mourning.

I continue to pray.

Dear Heavenly Father, please help us navigate this fractured world in a way that mends the broken-hearted and avoids the creation of deeper fault lines in the souls of your precious creations. Help us to tear down the walls of injustice and destroy the power structures that create inequity and inequality while also building bridges of love and restoration.  In Jesus name, Amen. 

Living in the Wilderness: Starving for Nuance on the Abortion Debate

Does anyone else believe that the subject of abortion is more nuanced than the broad generalizations that shout, you’re either a murderer or you hate women? Is anyone else tired of the name-calling, the black and white thinking, the social media posts and memes with the sole purpose of shaming, stoking the fire, throwing bigger stones? It appears that gracious, respectful, and honoring dialogue is rare these days, and I’m exhausted as I observe the battles on social media. I am starving for context and nuance in this discussion and yet terrified to start the conversation myself. I don’t have answers. I don’t stand firm in one camp and shoot arrows at the other. I don’t believe half the country are misogynists and the other half are baby killers. I’m afraid to write about my thoughts on this issue. I’m afraid because I don’t cling to one side or the other with an army of supporters to back me up in case of an attack. I’m afraid that no matter what I write, 50% of my friends and family will immediately see me as the enemy regardless of who they know me to be or what they’ve come to know of my heart. I’m afraid, and YET, I have a desire to bring a conversation forward that is void of hate and name-calling. Will you help me? Do you believe we can be respectful, vulnerable, brave, smart, and kind in our exchanges, giving grace to those we disagree with? Are we up for the challenge of leading with kindness? Please join me as I try!  We will do our best and ask the Lord to take care of the rest.

As I wrestle with this complex issue, please stick with me. Please understand that I’m a person seeking love and grace…to give it freely and receive it fully. Please know that I do not claim to be right or to know right or to live right. If I miss a perspective in this post, forgive me and please share your heart, your desires, your perceptions. I want to hear from you. I want to learn from you. I’m doing the best I can to listen to all viewpoints while building bridges between us versus burning them down. I’m doing my best to see both sides from a place of love and grace, so that I can embrace people regardless of our different postures and points of view. I have no desire to plant my feet in cement and scream at the crowd across from me for the rest of my life. There are many amazing, loving, smart, kind, giving people on all sides of this controversy, and I am broken as I watch us throw stones at each other from our glass houses. I don’t want to choose sides on every debate, but I do want to love all people well.

I have never seen good come out of vitriolic rhetoric, healing from hate, salvation from fear, grace from judgement. I truly believe humbly loving and serving one another is the path to restoration, love and healing, healthy community. As a fan of Jesus, I believe love is the path through confusion and darkness…the weapon that defeats the grip of hate. I believe in the redeeming power of love and I feel myself collapsing under the weight of cruel assumptions, bitter accusations, vicious words without an iota of loving consideration. I feel this burden regardless of the side serving the venom.  

My Reaction to the Pro-Choice Rhetoric:

When I hear or read pro-choice advocates claiming that pro-life/anti-abortion supporters don’t care about women’s rights, I wince. I struggle with the idea that someone attempting to protect what they believe is a vulnerable and voiceless human being is equivalent to not caring about women or women’s bodies. Caring about the outcome of a babies life and caring about women’s rights are not binary choices. We can and should care about both. If we see abuse of a newborn, we report it. We report it to protect the baby. We report abuse even with the understanding that the mom may lose her rights to parent that child. This does not make the reporter of suspected abuse hateful or sexist. If I’m someone who believes that the entity within a woman’s womb is a human life, then naturally, as another loving human being, I feel the need to protect that life. If I believe there is a body….a somebody inside a woman’s womb, then doesn’t it make sense that I should care to protect them both? That I shouldn’t weigh one’s worth over the other? That I should support them equally in their right to life? That I would choose to fight for both of them to live regardless of their age? If I believe personhood begins in the womb, then isn’t it imperative that I act as a voice for the voiceless and defend the defenseless, not because I don’t believe in a woman’s autonomy, but because I believe in protecting the unprotected?

It makes sense to me that people who believe a fetus is a life would advocate for birth and fight against abortion. They literally believe they’re saving lives, and in that case, “her body, her choice” doesn’t apply, because they believe there’s more than one body being discussed, and that one choice affects the lives of 2 people. With that being said, of course we can and should have the difficult and nuanced discussion around when the fetus becomes a life requiring protection. This is one of many questions that will have different answers, but different doesn’t mean that those on one side are appalling and those on the other have it all figured out.

My Reaction to the Pro-life Rhetoric:

When I hear or read pro-life/anti-abortion advocates calling pro-choice supporters murderers and baby killers, I cringe. I struggle with the idea that someone attempting to protect women’s rights and privacy due to their belief that the embryo or fetus is not a human being, is equivalent to hating or wanting to kill babies. I disavow the assumptions I see in reality-distorting memes suggesting that there are lots of women waiting until their 3rd trimester to abort a perfectly healthy baby. With abortion being more accessible in the first few weeks of pregnancy, and women understanding the pain, the fatigue, the erratic hormone shifts, the difficult and irreversible changes that happen to her body throughout pregnancy, I reject the notion that there are numerous women enduring all of that while they weigh the decision for 6+ months. I find these presumptions hurtful and harmful, not just to having a productive conversation, but to those dear women who have had to make impossible decisions late in their pregnancy, in the midst of the worst times of their lives. There are many men and women who love children and have, or plan to have children, who also support a woman’s right to choose because they do not believe that the embryo or fetus is a person. It seems clear to me that there aren’t millions of people who desire to execute babies, but rather millions of people who support a woman’s right to choose whether or not she will carry a group of tissue and cells inside her womb to the point of personhood. There are women who are healthy with a healthy embryo who choose to abort for a whole host of reasons (age, financial, mental health, physical environment, timing, hopes, fears, etc.) that are personal to them and their circle of support. There are reasons for abortion that I don’t understand or agree with, however if someone believes the potentiality for life is NOT equivalent to life, then naturally it follows that they would  believe they have the right to choose what to do with the entity inside their own body. It is also important to remember that this issue covers more complex scenarios. There are women who opt for a therapeutic abortion because their baby is not viable for life outside the womb. There are women who opt for abortion due to the irreparable damage of being raped or surviving incest. There are women who opt for abortion because their life is at risk. Regardless of the reason, again, it comes back to the nuanced discussion of when we believe the fetus becomes a person. If I believe the fetus is not an individual until a certain point in the pregnancy, then it makes sense for me to believe that a woman has the right to choose whether or not she will carry the embryo or fetus up until that point.

It is rarely appropriate OR helpful to paint with broad strokes, especially when discussing such a complex topic. There are so many women grieving the unthinkable loss of their baby who are retraumatized by the lack of grace and understanding that explodes onto social media every time there’s a hot button court case. It breaks my heart that so many women are thrust back into pain and shame without a chance to tell their story…without anyone even stopping to ask what their story is.

This dispute has always felt very grey to me, but I have always considered myself pro-life, with exceptions of rape, incest, and the mother’s life being at risk. However, when I was pregnant with my first-born, my eyes were opened to just how personal and murky this debate really is. My brother died in a tragic accident when I was 11 weeks pregnant with my son Isaac. The night before my 12 week prenatal appointment I was suffering from extreme anxiety and panic, as I feared there would be something horribly wrong with my baby, and I knew I could NOT survive another loss. My entire family gathered around my parent’s kitchen table and prayed for me and the life growing inside. After that terrifying appointment, I began to imagine what it would be like to be told that my baby wasn’t viable for life outside the womb, or that he didn’t have a heartbeat, or any number of horrible announcements from a doctor that change the trajectory of a pregnancy…change the trajectory of all the lives involved. Around this time, I received a prayer request for a woman who knowingly and courageously was giving birth to her stillborn baby. It was in that EXACT moment (reading this gut-wrenching prayer request) that I knew I could never live through laboring and delivering my dead son or expose my family to such trauma as we were still reeling with grief over the unexpected loss of my brother. I would never have recovered from this fate. If I had faced that horrible reality, I would have chosen a therapeutic abortion, as I truly believe that I couldn’t have endured the alternative at that time in my life. I would have opted for an abortion and I would have been thankful that it was an option. Contrary to many of the memes and hurtful mud-slinging I hear and see, I don’t believe that decision would’ve made me Godless, faithless, heartless, or a murderer. I believe most of us make decisions based on advanced medicine/science and the intimate knowledge of our own capacity to live with our choices, and doing so we can still walk faithfully with God through it all. It was this experience that gave me a more nuanced perspective than I had ever had before. It made me realize how our experiences so often drive what we’re willing to fight for and that maybe sharing our stories with each other could narrow the divide.

Rather than spreading hate from both sides, I truly believe we could introduce love to one another by taking the time to have a conversation and listen…really listen. Listen to the woman who has lived through rape. Listen to the woman who had an abortion and now wishes she had made another choice. Listen to the woman who labored and delivered her lifeless baby. Listen to the young girl who survived incest and is now carrying her father’s child. Listen to the woman who cannot have children and couldn’t fathom ever choosing not to. Listen to the family that lost their mom, their wife, their daughter, sister, aunt during childbirth. Listen to the mom who struggles to feed her 3 kids and now must make the hardest decision of her life. Listen to the woman who was harassed at Planned Parenthood when she went in for a therapeutic abortion because her very much wanted and loved baby was not viable for life outside the womb. Listen to the woman who chose to be a teenage mom. Listen to the woman who had the abortion when she was 14 and has no regrets. Listen to the couple living through IVF. Listen to the family that loves a child with disabilities. Listen to the fostered child. Listen to the adult who seeks therapy from the trauma of foster care. Listen to the adult who praises the blessings gained from foster care. Listen to the stories of miracles and the stories of loss, the stories of regret and the stories of gratitude. I can only imagine the countless ways this issue affects women and families and I can only imagine the overwhelm that comes with each decision. And, because I can only imagine, I’m thankful for those who have shared their stories with me. I believe it is these conversations that have landed me in a place where I no longer make assumptions about the kind of person you are or the heart that you have based on where you land on this issue.

Where I “Think” I Land

I believe all life has value and should be protected, but I will openly admit that I don’t know where I land on the timeline of a fetus becoming a life. I believe a woman’s body must be treated with honor and respect and if that is violated, she should have the right to proceed in whatever way is necessary to heal rather than perpetuate that trauma. I have always considered myself pro-life AND I believe that a woman should be able to receive a therapeutic abortion if she has been raped, the baby isn’t viable for life, or the mom’s life is at risk. I have always considered myself pro-life AND making abortion illegal concerns me because I don’t want women pursuing life-threatening options or ending up in jail for seeking an abortion as that defeats the entire purpose of advocating for life and family. I believe all life has worth and should be treated with love and respect  including those who disagree with me and/or those who’ve made choices I “think” I wouldn’t make. But, the truth is we have no idea what choice we would make until we’re in those shoes, breathing that air, crying those tears, screaming those prayers. I am thankful I never had to make that choice, but I do not stand in judgment of women who have.

What wakes me in the middle of the night is the thought that some people I love dearly will say that I’m anti-woman for these beliefs and some will say I’m an assassin of innocent life. I stand in the middle somewhere as I try to consider the nuances and it is a lonely place to stand. I don’t belong to a camp because I see good people in both camps, and because I see good people in both camps, none of the camps will have me. The world tells us that we have to plant our flag on one side and despise the other, be disgusted by the other, call the other godless, evil, ignorant, misogynist, and on and on. To Brene’ Brown’s point in Braving the Wilderness, I don’t want to connect with a group or bond with others because we hate the same people with equal intensity. I want to find my relevance in a group that is built on who we can love and how much we can love them. This middle ground, this desert, this wilderness is isolating and scary and I’m hoping that I will eventually bump into others who live here too. I hope that even if we disagree we can commune respectfully and thoughtfully with our hearts and arms wide open for a warm embrace. Brene’ wrote a chapter titled, “It’s Hard to Hate Close Up,” and this is why I believe sharing and listening to each other’s stories is so important in the quest to love each other better and create a space of belonging. I would like to be on this journey with you.    

As I continue to tell my story and listen to others, I want everyone to know that the God I serve loves all of us, regardless of the choices we’ve made. I want everyone to know that God is not up in heaven wagging his finger, shaking his head, and saying “shame on you!” I want every person to know that they are loved and worthy of that love. I hear God saying, “grace on you!” God’s love is the example I seek to follow and I pray that I will connect with others on the same journey for life-giving grace and unabashed love.

If you relate to these struggles I would love to hear from you! I believe we can speak hope and love into each other’s lives. As I mentioned earlier, if I’ve missed a perspective and you would like to share your story and your thoughts, I would also love to hear from you! I believe it’s the sharing of the history behind our narratives that can build bridges. If you think a more nuanced conversation is valuable, please share this so that we can continue a conversation void of hate and hurt and filled with grace and the desire to listen and love well!

Hope In Times of Uncertainty

Have you ever struggled with self-doubt? Have you ever approached an ending or a beginning and wondered, “how did I get here?” Have you ever felt hopeless in changing the trajectory of your life? Have you ever taken inventory of your environment and thought, “this is not how I imagined it would be?” Do you ever lay awake at night asking, “Is this where I belong? Am I on the path that fulfills my purpose?” Have you ever struggled to give yourself grace in your circumstance? If you answered yes to any of these questions, you are not alone and there is hope my friend. A new day is coming.  

This past week I’ve been feeling stuck. Struggling with purpose. Searching for meaning. I’ve felt lost with an ache in my soul that fears it’s chasing something that doesn’t want to be chased. There’s a voice telling me I’ve run out of ideas, I have no more worthwhile thoughts to share, nothing left to say or write. This has me feeling dispirited and exasperated with myself for not being more thoughtful and creative, for not running deeper and longer. The voice is saying, “you have nothing to offer and quite frankly, you never did!”

I’m not sure where these feelings stem from. It could be that I turn 40 this year. It could be that we’re in the season of all the hard anniversaries that bring back the grief of losing my brother before his time. It could be that I truly need a shift in my life and quite a bit more therapy. It could be (and probably is) a combination of all these things. One thing I know for sure is that these are lies from an enemy that is doing his very best to tear me from the inside out with distortion and deceit. The truth is that we are all wonderful and beautiful creations with purpose and callings that we are uniquely equipped to fulfill.

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly. John 10:10 ESV

I heard a timely message on Easter Sunday that struck a chord in me. It was the simple reminder that His love brings resurrection. The love of Jesus brings life! When we are feeling lost, lonely, worthless, hopeless, small, insignificant, we can look to the promises of Jesus for light and life, hope and joy, restoration and resurrection. He breathes a new spirit into our tired hearts and worn out souls.

This message reminded me of my own Jesus-breathed renewal. I laid in chronic pain for months, depending on others to care for me and my newborn son, most days believing that my life as I knew it was over. And yet, there came a day when I rose from my bed and the pain fell away. There was a day that I woke up and with the arms of Jesus wrapped firmly around me I slowly re-entered life. Jesus carried me through the shadows of pain and defeat into the glow of victory. I walked hand in hand with Jesus into a new morning of hope and joy and I knew I had been given a second chance at life. I embraced a gratitude for life at a depth and width I had never experienced in all my 33 years. This was my new becoming. In that moment I celebrated the joy that comes with knowing my Father will never leave me, that he is always faithful, that he loves me unconditionally, and that his plans for me are always good. I was a new woman in Christ. I embraced life with a new fervor. I felt a peace and strength and confidence in him that I had never before experienced. He had resurrected my heart and spirit and nothing would ever be the same. 

My hopeless place. My storm.

My resurrected place. My new day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Easter message was a timely reminder that there is hope in each new day. A timely reminder that this broken place we may find ourselves in today is only a small moment in time on our journey with the God of love. A timely reminder that he is a God of new beginnings and he continues to lay a path before us, whether we see it or not. A timely reminder that we are all precious in his eyes, adored by our creator, and made for a great love and abundant life in him and him in us!

If you are hearing a voice that says, you’re not where you should be, a voice that doubts you have what it takes, a voice that says you’re not enough, a voice that says you’ll never find your path or purpose, a voice that calls you a failure and tells you that your circumstance is hopeless, I want you to know and believe that voice is a liar…The Liar. You are on a journey with peaks and valleys, midnights and mornings and it is the journey with Jesus that brings you wisdom and strength. It is the journey that equips you to shine love and light into the lives of those around you. It is the journey that brings you into a new morning and a new life. You were created for wholeness and he will make you whole. Have hope my friend, there is a new day dawning! 

You are enough! You are worthy! You are loved!

 

Grief Keeps Giving. Grace Keeps Saving.

Burt, it’s April and I miss you.

I love celebrating your life but I hate that I have to.

It’s hard to describe the shadows that creep in late at night, while I lay awake unguarded. The harrowing memories that plague my tired mind. It starts before I even consciously realize that we’ve slipped into April. It’s as if everything shifts. The air is thicker, the mood cloudier, the dreams lonelier, the heart heavier, the words insufficient. Like clockwork the grief creeps forward, relentlessly gaining intensity with each passing second. It’s difficult to explain the trembling in my voice that appears this time of year. I may have told a thousand stories that included your name, but in April I can’t even silently think of you without tears welling up in my worn out eyes. It’s as if the valiant effort my mind put forth all year to shrink that permanent hole in my life was all in vain…completely upended as the hole burrows deeper and wider overnight. I am flooded with the realness, the pain, the emptiness that comes with no longer having you here. It’s as if I’m flung back to that day 5 years ago and I have suddenly forgotten how to cope…forgotten the miles I’ve traveled in healing…forgotten how to live with the sorrow that visits always uninvited.

There are no words to adequately describe the aching I feel in my spirit to see you again…hear your laugh, hug your neck, listen to your stories, tell you mine, introduce you to your darling niece and nephews. There’s no stopping the flow of tears as I imagine how much you would love these precious little ones that have been born since you departed, and how much they would love you back. Just last night I read The Book With No Pictures to Isaac, the nephew you kissed on the knee as you passed in the stars. I couldn’t help but imagine the hilarious voices you would’ve invented while reading this book and how much he would’ve relished in your time together. I try to do it justice, to make you proud, to give Isaac a glimpse of the joy and silliness you brought into our lives. I give it my all even while fighting back the quiver in my voice.

I love that your legacy lives on in your family and friends, but I hate that you left a legacy so soon.

Your birthday is in April.

The last time I saw your smiling face and heard your voice was in April, on Easter Sunday, when we announced that I was pregnant.The last letter you wrote me arrived in April. It was red ink, with capital letters, in your beautiful architectural hand writing, clearly expressing your excitement that your baby sister was going to be a mom. You passionately described the unconditional love that comes with parenthood. This letter…the last letter you wrote to me still explodes with adoration for your beautiful girls.

Then there is May.

You left us in May. The last text message you sent the family was on May 11^th, the same day you died. While we were celebrating dad’s 70^th birthday, you were being greeted by Jesus. The call I will never forget came the morning of May 12^th. It was Mother’s Day…it was a day of mere survival because the unthinkable had happened…you had not survived. We delivered your eulogy on the 21^st day of May.

I hate these anniversaries.

Every year, for 2 months I feel myself receding into the shadows where words are meager and bitterness clings to the tip of my tongue. I’m tempted to numb the vivid memories of this trauma with hollow distractions and senseless behaviors. For 2 months a year I spend sleepless nights soaking my pillow with tears of regret, anxiety, anger, fear, heartbreak. For 2 months a year I can no longer fight off the visuals of your death, your viewing, your casket being lowered into the ground, your daughters faces as I drove them to the cemetery. For 2 months a year I’m reminded of the agony I felt completing menial daily tasks after you passed. I’m reminded of the first time I showered after your death and how I despised myself for any sense of relief I felt as the warm water poured over me. I couldn’t shake the guilt that came with knowing that you lost your life in a bitter cold river and now I was allowing this same hijacker of life…this water…rain over me as a source of comfort, washing away my tears. For 2 months a year I think back to that time I couldn’t bare to use punctuation because it felt too final. As if the energy it took to end a sentence was more than I could muster. For 2 months a year the dam breaks wide open and I can’t fight back the sobs or run from the gripping sadness.

Then, the strangest and most unexpected gift is given. Somewhere in the middle of those 2 months I find solace because you ALWAYS show up. You show up in a dream that someone shares with me. You show up in a Bob Marley song that’s playing in a random boutique I step foot in for the first time. You show up in a memory I had forgotten about. You show up in a picture I’ve never seen. You show up in a story I’ve never heard. You show up in a beautiful building that I instantly imagine you creating. You show up in a whisper reminding me that I must not take a moment for granted. I feel you standing beside me. You dare me to self-reflect on my attitude, my complaints, my propensity to take the blessings around me for granted. I picture your smiling face and imagine all I would give to prevent you from taking that hike by yourself…I imagine how many more breaths you could’ve had…should’ve had…and I’m convinced once again that I must use my time and the gift of life wisely and in honor of you. You show up during those 2 months to confirm once again that God’s grace is sufficient for me and His power is made perfect in my weakness.

It is during these wearisome months that it becomes crystal clear how God uses each heart wrenching moment to remind me of the preciousness of life. Every year, by His grace, I experience supernatural strength and peace to push through the months of tears and the nights laying awake thinking of you and what I would sacrifice to have you with us again. He comforts me in my most vulnerable time of need and assures me that one day we will meet again and it will be a reunion more beautiful than I could ever imagine. He joins me in my grief and assures me that my grief is not without hope. This year He gave me a song on Easter Sunday and it consumed my soul as I sang from the depths of my mourning heart, “death where is your sting?!” As I sang, with my arms reached high I imagined you with open arms ready to embrace me when it’s my time to journey home. He draws me into Him and I feel close to you again.

Burt, it’s April and I feel you near.

Burton James Little

“And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.” – 1 Pete 5:10

 

Dear Christians, Jesus is Calling Us!

I believe with all of my heart that in this time of exceptional polarization and heightened vitriol, Jesus is moving in powerful ways, and as He moves, He is calling us to be His hands and feet in a radical and reconciliatory way! He’s calling us to be a river of grace amidst the stones of judgement, a bridge of love amidst the firestorm of rage, a breath of truth amidst the suffocating lies, a blanket of peace amidst the whirlwind of fear, a testament to His unfailing mercy and goodness, a light in the darkness, a shelter in the storm. God’s will for our lives is to love like Jesus. 2018 presents a fresh opportunity to cling to the promises of our Father and release the grip we may have on our political ideologies and religious doctrine. If we love Christ then we are called to love like Christ! I believe The Lord’s heart aches when He witnesses believers showing anything but the love of the Lord to those outside their tribe, their nation, their race, their political party, their religion. I’ve shattered my own heart with actions and words that did not honor and glorify God. I’ve engaged in outrage and I have had to ask for forgiveness. In 2017 I felt a distance between my heart and the hearts of other Christians that I have never felt before, and with that, came loneliness and confusion. Last year reminded me over and over that we must look to Him and ask for His heart so that we may show His magnificent love His monumental way. It is always the right time to stand up for what is lovely, cast off ugliness, and hold firm to His message of love and grace for every one of His creations. Christians, if we believe we were created in His image and He is Love, then we must be prepared to love without borders or judgement…we must be prepared to show a love that is all inclusive and accepting…we must be prepared to vulnerably and persistently seek reconciliation with those who look, think, live, speak, pray, vote differently than us… we must be prepared to be a supernatural example of what His love and grace looks like in a broken world full of broken people. In order to be a visible reflection of Christ’s image we must allow Him to transplant our heart with His. I believe the Lord yearns for tenderness in our hearts, discernment on our tongues, softness in our speech, selflessness in our actions, and an approach to others that comes from no other place but a place of love. I believe there is no better time than now, in 2018, to open our hearts to those across the street, over the fence, on the other side of the aisle, and beyond the borders of faith and country. I believe The Lord yearns for us to fellowship with one another, break bread and draw close. My prayer is that a strengthened connection will loosen our judgements and quiet our hearts. My prayer is that we will reach across the table to hold hands, heal hurts, and spread joy. My prayer is that we will let go of our talking points and learn to love his ENTIRE creation as He does. My prayer is that we will put Him before all else so that we may consistently represent His gospel and be a light to the world. My prayer is that we will learn to see and treat others as The Lord does and that we will silence the untruths that attempt to misrepresent what we believe and who we live for. My prayer is that Christians will be an example of Jesus’s love in all circumstances to all people.

“My dear children, let’s not just talk about love; let’s practice real love. This is the only way we’ll know we’re living truly, living in God’s reality.” 01 John 3:18

In 2018, what would it look like to be Love? What would it sound like to be Love? What would it feel like to be Love? Christians, how can we align our actions, our words, our hearts, our daily lives with the love of Jesus? How can we communicate the kindness of Jesus and confirm to his entire creation that we want to share life’s burdens even when our struggles differ?

What was Jesus’s relationship with the poor? How did he care for the impoverished? Were there pre-requisites to His giving? Did Jesus measure a person’s work ethic before he fed them? How can we think and talk about those who have been stricken by poverty in a way that shows the love of Jesus?

When the word “lazy” is used to refer to a human being (a creation and image of God) on welfare does it heap shame on a person who has been struggling with shame for years maybe a lifetime? Is this a word that brings healing or does it create new wounds and rip open old ones? Do we talk about those who are suffering from a place that sounds hard-hearted and unloving, judgmental and unkind or from a place that represents The Love of Jesus? Is it possible that only God sees and intimately knows what another person has endured in their lifetime or what they presently face on a daily basis? Could it be that if we knew a person’s story and what they’ve lived through we would be amazed at their resiliency and that they’ve even survived?

Taking it one step further, is it possible that what we think about a person’s “story” should have nothing to do with how open we are to give?

Could Jesus be calling us to stop judging and to JUST LOVE?

Through my work in Medicaid as a medical social worker for 15 years, I know of thousands of people who were living comfortable lives and then suffered a terrible tragedy that stole their independence, their livelihood, their physical and emotional wellness, and sometimes even the lives of their loved ones. I also know those whose tragedy started when they were born into a home that provided no safety, no love, and no promises of happiness…born into a life I cannot even being to imagine enduring. Even with this knowledge, is it our responsibility to deem whether or not the reasons behind a person’s circumstance are “sad enough” or “make sense?” Are we called to judge whether or not someone is deserving of relief or rescue according to our criteria?

Matthew 25:35-40 says, “³⁵ For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, ³⁶ I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’ ³⁷ “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? ³⁸ When did we see you a stranger and invite you in or needing clothes and clothe you? ³⁹ When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’ ⁴⁰ “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’”

When we consider how we will give, it may do our spirit well to remember that no inherent worth comes with money or hard work…our worthiness comes from the grace of God. Those who live comfortably are no more worthy of God’s love than those who struggle day to day to survive on little to nothing. Jesus gave in love, and so must we.

We are called to love not judge. We are called to pour out God’s grace not blame and shame. We are called to connect and build relationship and join others in their pain with an open and giving heart. We are called to open our arms not point or wag our finger. We don’t need to understand the why or the how behind a person’s circumstance before adopting a loving and giving heart towards them. We don’t need details to press in, break bread, connect, love.  Christian’s, let us love without condition…let us give without judgment…let us include without limits…let us love like Jesus.

What was Jesus’s relationship with the oppressed, the stigmatized, the marginalized, and the disenfranchised? How can we avoid complacency and a silence so loud it deafens those who have also been muted?  As Christians, should we be careful not to insinuate that, “if I’m not affected it doesn’t matter?”

My truth is that I live a life of privilege, most of which I was born into, that is not affected by most governmental decisions. Health care, immigration, welfare, gay rights, civil rights, etc. are not issues that directly affect my daily life or well-being. I have never had to fight for benefits tied to who I love; I’ve never had to wonder how my children will receive health care or fear that I could lose my livelihood with a vote. I have never had to escape a dangerous country clinging to my children while begging the Lord to keep them alive. I have never had to worry how someone might treat me because of the color of my skin.

“The Lord is a refuge for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble.” Psalm 9:9

Can we dismiss, minimize, or trivialize the concerns of our fellow human beings and still be an example of love and grace? Could it be that if it weighs on their hearts, it weighs on the heart of The Lord, and it should weigh on ours as well? I believe Jesus would always choose people over policy. This is not a call to protest or to rail against people we don’t agree with. Anger is not from The Lord, but a heart to advocate for others and a spirit of kindness are. As servants of Jesus, a willingness to “be with” and “judge not” would serve Him, others, and us well. He was not a political man but a lover of men and He loves and cares for those who are hurting regardless of the cause.

“…If you do away with the yoke of oppression, with the pointing finger and malicious talk, and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday…” Isaiah 58:6-11

Would Jesus disregard those who call for justice and equality or would he listen to the breaking of their hearts and offer love and healing? Does God yearn to transform our hearts in a way that brings reconciliation and healing, love and forgiveness? Could we ask for the heart and ears of Jesus and listen to the message behind those who are hurting without judgment, jumping to conclusions, and justifying offense?  Christians, I believe we can embrace truth and avoid perpetuating false dichotomies or taking up political, personal, and or religious offense so quickly that we dismiss a need for change or miss an opportunity to love. Jesus spent time with, identified with, individually ministered to and released the oppressed and I pray that He will help us do the same.

How would Jesus respond to those who have been victimized by sexual misconduct? What is the heart of God for those identifying with #metoo? Does God’s heart break with each new breaking story? Does he mourn for his sons and daughters who have suffered in secrecy and shame for so long? Does he weep with them?

John 10:10 says, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” Jesus came to heal wounds and restore what has been stolen.

I am a part of this movement and I don’t know of a woman in my life that isn’t. I’ve been harassed, humiliated, and forced upon by men in a way that has shamed me and changed the way I see myself in the mirror, and it happens to people all over the world without any political motivations. Certainly we must be responsible in our investigations of each claim, but we must also be responsible in our responses to the brave and vulnerable victims who come forward. Christ does not desire for his sons and daughters to drown in secrecy and shame because they are too frightened to come forward due to political, professional, and/or personal maliciousness. Christ desires freedom and restoration and that can only occur in the light. I believe it is important to treat the #metoo movement as an opportunity for supernatural healing on both sides and this will mean we have to lay our judgement and knee-jerk reactions aside. This movement is an anguished cry from so many men and women who have been horrifically mistreated and abused and it is an opportunity for Christians to come forward with love and acceptance.

How would Jesus respond to those who have been accused of sexual misconduct? Does God consider their political ideologies or their hearts? Are we being a holy representation of God when we brush the sin under the rug? Are we being a holy representation of God when we condemn the accused? Making excuses for the sin or the sinner fuels the fire and re-injures those who have been victimized by the sin, but we also don’t have The Lord’s permission to judge and condemn. We are called to be agents of intercession and how we view the perpetrator should not change based on political party, faith, culture, etc. The ministry of Christ is to intercede before the throne of God for the sinner in the hopes that he will respond to the voice of God. Regardless of a person’s politics, religion, race, ethnicity, history, etc. Jesus wants to set them free of their perversion, make them whole, forgive their sin and bring them home to Him.

John 3:17-19 states, “For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.” Truth will set the sinner free and shining light into the darkness is the function of the Holy Spirit.

We must consistently speak truth, offer grace, forgive, and love if we wish to exemplify the Kingdom of God.  Christ spilled His blood for every sinner and only God can shine a light into a dark heart and set it free.  As one of my favorite authors, Paul David Tripp wrote, “grace moves toward wrong, not to condemn, but to rescue restore, help and forgive.” Transformation and healing are possible for perpetrators and victims and we are called to believe this and pray for this regardless of party affiliation or identification of faith.

How much does Jesus love his creation…his entire creation? Does he weep for refugees and immigrants who flee their country of origin to escape brutality and negligence in their country of origin? Would he encourage us to make decisions about his creation from a place of fear or a place of love?

“He defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and loves the foreigner residing among you, giving them food and clothing. And you are to love those who are foreigners, for you yourselves were foreigners in Egypt.” Deuteronomy 10:18-19

If I sit and imagine I live in a country where my children’s lives are at risk every single day, a country where my children have seen dead bodies before they’ve seen a playground, a country where torture is commonplace and the sound of music is replaced with the hissing of missiles and the rhythm of explosions, I become physically ill. If I imagine having children in a place where the government leaves my kids starving or allows gangs the freedom to kidnap my family members, I see myself doing ANYTHING (regardless of legality) to save my children’s lives. Can we imagine if these were our starving children, our bloodied brothers, our sobbing mothers? What would we be willing to do?

Of course there have to be safety measures. Of course there have to be laws, but again Jesus calls us to LOVE…and love over fear. He doesn’t call us to only love Americans or law-abiding citizens or those who speak English or those who share our same values or culture…he calls us to love everybody…every person…every human he created and he created all of us. God didn’t create countries or borders…He created people…human beings…all equal in His eyes. How does God see his creation? Is it possible that the way we sometimes speak about other human beings saddens our loving God who sees His creation as a lovely and lovable whole? Does He desire for us to avoid the use of dehumanizing language so that we will make decisions that consider others as a creation of God?

Christians, I believe we must talk about and treat immigrants (legal or not) as if they’re God’s creation, because that IS who they are…they are our brothers and sisters! They are not “the other.” They are not “those people” or “them.” They are US!!! They are God’s!

What is Jesus’s heart towards those we struggle to love? Does God have criteria on who is deserving of His sacrificial love or does He offer love to His entire creation without condition? For those of us who have struggled with discouragement, fear, offense, anxiety, and possibly outrage this past year, are we willing to release the negativity we have invited into our hearts and minds to seek a replacement of supernatural peace and joy that can only come from The One who loves perfectly? Can we stand up for what’s right, defend the oppressed, love the outcasts, lift up the down trodden all while asking Jesus to protect our hearts from anger and judgment, un-forgiveness and despair? I know that I cannot summon a loving heart towards every person, but God can. My human abilities have not allowed me to reach a place where I can forgive everyone, but Jesus forgives and so I continue to pray for His heart.

Micah 6:8 says, “He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you except to be just, and to love [and to diligently practice] kindness (compassion), and to walk humbly with your God [setting aside any overblown sense of importance or self-righteousness]?” And so, in 2018, I am committed to diligently practicing loving-kindness and setting aside my ego.

I openly admit that I struggled last year with balancing my desire to be a refuge to the hurting while also showing love to those I believed (right or wrong) were causing the hurt, but I was convicted when I read these words from Paul Tripp:

“Lost children need compassion. It doesn’t make any sense to get mad at somebody who is lost. It doesn’t make any sense to make it a matter of personal offense against you. It doesn’t make any sense to condemn a lost person with words or throw a punishment at them and walk away. Lost people need understanding and compassion.”

I’m lost a lot! I need compassion and understanding! I believe I can have compassion for the most difficult of people IF God imparts His love and grace into my heart. This is not something I can do on my own, but I do desire a softer heart towards those that offend and disappoint, and all humans do, including me. I desire an ability to forgive.  I desire a freedom from outrage and an ability to stand for compassion for all…even those I don’t believe have earned it. But, who has earned it? Who does deserve it? I have done nothing to deserve the Lord’s unconditional love, grace, and forgiveness, so I ask you reader to also have compassion for me when I offend and disappoint.

I want to follow in the footsteps of Jesus and do what The Lord instructed in Luke 6:27-28, “But to you who are listening I say, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.” I cannot do these things without divine intervention, so I continue to seek the Lord’s heart through prayer and fellowship with other Christ followers who believe in His message of unconditional love and grace for all. His power is made perfect in our weakness, so as we face hardships I pray our hearts will find rest knowing that when we are weak He makes us strong.

In an age of echo chambers and confirmation bias I am praying that in 2018 God will break the chains of political ideology and dogmatic theology so that we can be Ambassadors of His Love…a safe haven for all of creation…a warm and tender place of good news.

I pray from Psalm 51: “Create in me (us) a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me (us).”

Amen.