What about Pain and Hope?

"If you lose hope, somehow you lose the vitality that keeps life moving, you lose that courage to be, that quality that helps you go on in spite of it all. And so today I still have a dream." ~Martin Luther King Jr.

The post before last when I talked about touching tragedy, I lied; I have touched tragedy before. But for me tragedy was always lightened with the ever-present view of hope. When my friends tell me of their struggles and pain, I perceive them through the tint of possibility. I can see the potential of the situation, I can see potential of the person. I can say with complete confidence, it'll all work out okay, you just have to trust God. I've always been an optimistic person and nothing is ever too far gone to be reconciled. With tragedy, I always see what can/has come of it; I still see the potential through the pain.

For my own life, my biggest tragedy was when I became diabetic in 8th grade. And though that isn't near as life-threatening as cancer or something of the sort, or as difficult to deal with as depression and self-mutilation, it was in its own way, a struggle for me. But for the most part I felt I had family, friends, and comfort Bible verses like Psalms 46:10 and John 16:33 to get me through. Looking back, I can see how diabetes was among the most positive influences on my life. It was the reason that my faith in God grew as much as it did and the turning point that has led me to where I am today. Through it, I found hope and a better way of life.

But what about those times when hope is only a faint glimmer, barely visible in the darkness of the darkest nights? What about those times that you want so badly for life to get better, but at every turn, something else begins to spin out of control. Your family has given up on you, and the friends you had have turned their backs. Even those comfort verses don't offer the slightest consolation anymore; in fact, it seems useless to even udder them because all their meaning feels void and only reminds you of the ever-present pain you're in. Where is the hope when the pain cuts that deep?

I realize I sound a bit over-dramatic especially in light of my previous post, but I've just been slapped across the face with the pain of a friend that I am completely and absolutely powerless to. This is a pain I've never had to comprehend before, it seems to be the true lowest of lows, the bottom of the blackest pit, and the way out is almost impossible. Usually, I can find some way to empathize and somehow stretch out that inkling of hope, but this time is different; this time is harder. I don't have the slightest idea of what to do, and even if I did, I'm too far away to be useful. Even the comfort Bible verses that have crossed my mind so many times seem less sure. I know everything will be okay eventually, but for one of the first times in my life, I feel I cannot possibly wait for that day to come. I think of passages like Psalms 23 and keep them hidden inside because I cannot say them with the sincerity I once could. I read lines like, "I fear no evil" and in a millisecond think of all my doubts. I feel like a helpless child who's sitting inside the window watching the street as it fills with rain. And as that child watches, he sees a stray dog crossing the street, drenching wet with no place to go. He desperately wants to help, but there's no way he can. Instead, he sits in his warm, dry home and cries about the dog he wishes he could save.

I have a sweatshirt from the company Light Gives Heat that reads, "Hope is always a choice." The company is based out of African and is working to improve the economy and personal lives of the people there. This saying has captivated me for a while and I believe that it's true, but if hope is always a choice, how do we find it?

The story of the deep pain two paragraphs previous is only part of my friends great heartache. This is a kid who I can say I've cared more about and worried more about than almost anyone else in my life. His family has basically given up on him, and most of his friends have turned their backs. He's gotten into all the trouble that one needs for a lifetime. Now he has no home, no job and no money. The place he was living in for the last little while has only given him deeper wounds: black eyes from fighting, heavier addictions, and lonely nights of hangovers and misplaced memories. So he's decided, as a leap of faith, to return to his hometown and start over. Which sounds good in theory, but when we were talking he informed me that when his plane lands, he has no idea if anyone will be there to pick him up, and if no one comes, he has no idea where he'd even walk.

So now at 2:03 a.m., I sit here and wonder; I sit here and plea: God honor my friend's step of faith; show him that You are always by his side and that you will guide him to where he needs to go. Give him the strength and determination to never give up, to get up one more time than he has fallen. Give him the courage to face the new day and renew in him an incomprehensible hope that rises out of the ashes and replants itself into new sustainable life. Help both my friend and I to see that hope is always a choice, and that there is no tragedy that You aren't working amidst and through to bring about your good. Help us both, God, to trust you in our lives and to take that leap of faith when all of our instincts and everything else around us tells us not to. Thank you God for your love and grace. Amen

With What You've Been Given

For one of my religion classes I was required to write a chapel type message on Matthew 25, so here it is:

Two years ago, I saw a commercial on NPR for the website dontalmostgive.org. The commercial featured a homeless man under a thin blanket freezing in the cold night. As the picture was shown, an announcer talked about people who almost gave him food to eat, and others who almost drove him to a shelter, and still others who almost gave him a warm blanket. The fate of the man followed the same trend: “he almost made it through the night.” The point of the commercial was to persuade people that almost helping the man, ultimately did nothing for him. Along with this commercial, the website featured five others with a similar message: good intentions mean little without action. The website itself is a network of different organizations all across the country to which people can give.

I say that not to scare you to sign up to volunteer somewhere or to make you feel guilty about not opening up your home to those in need. My point is simply this: to challenge each of you to use the gifts you’ve been given and do something with them.

In Matthew 25:14-30, Jesus tells the story of man who goes on a trip and entrusts three of his servants with a number of talents, a unit of Greek currency worth about $1000 each. To one servant he gave five talents, to another two, and to the last one. While the man is gone these workers are to take care of the talents he’s given them. The servant with $5000, earns $5000 more. The one with $2000 also doubles his amount, but the third servant, the one with $1000, buries the talent out of fear. 

When the master returns, he sees the increase of the first two men and rewards them. To both he says, “Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!” (verse 21, 23). The third, however, the master scolds. He calls the servant lazy and wicked and takes his single talent and gives it to the one with ten.  The moral of the parable is this: “whoever has will be given more, and they will have an abundance. Whoever does not have, even what they have will be taken from them” (verse 29).

In the story, God is like the master, and He entrusts us all with different talents and abilities. His desire is for us to discover those talents and use them for His glory. And when He sees we are using those gifts He’s given us, He will entrust us with more. Those who make something of what they have are the heros of the story and we can look up to them for their good stewardship.

But what about the man who hid the money, what’s his story. People may look at him and immediately write him off as lazy and ignorant, and that may be true in part. But the main reason that he didn’t do anything with the master’s money was because of his fear. It says in verse 24 that the servant knew the master had high standards, and he was afraid (Message). Though most people don’t give him credit, the servant may have thought of investing the money somewhere, really making something of what he’d been given, but his fears kept him from trying. He didn’t want to risk losing the talent. Also he might have feared that his talent was useless. Maybe his thoughts were, “if only I had five, then maybe I could make something of myself” or “no one cares what can I do with my talent.” He put up a wall of his insecurities that stopped him from using the talent before he even tried. 

Sometimes in life, we have those same thoughts: we too are afraid of failure, we feel our talents are worthless or that someone else is better qualified. The echo of our hearts is constantly saying, “I’m not good enough,” and we believe that to be true, so we cover up who we really are and hide our talents thinking that we’re better off that way. We, like the wicked servant, let our insecurities overwhelm us and we bury the gift God has given us. The master isn’t pleased with the man’s ability to hide the money; he wanted him to do something with it, and God wants the same from us: our strengths are not to be hidden in shadows or holes, but to be discovered and increased in light of the world around us. 

In the next verses of Matthew 25, Jesus tells another parable. He tells the story about the end of the world and how he will separate the people like a farmer separates his sheep and goats. The sheep in this parable are like the first two servants in the parable of the talents. They are the ones who live in light of what they’ve been blessed with. The use what they’ve been given and do something with it. When God calls them aside, He commends them saying, they’ve done what was required of them. He explains; “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, 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” (verse 35-36).

The sheep are greatly confused by this because they do not remember doing any of that for Jesus. But Jesus assures them, “whatever you did for the least of these, you did for me” (verse 40). It’s the same with the servants in the first story, they didn’t do something with their talent because they were expecting the master to reward them; they invested their talent because they knew they’d been given a blessing. The sheep saw a void and helped to fill it; the servant used his talents and increased upon them.

The goats, however, are no so lucky as the sheep. God punishes them and says, “For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me” (verse 42-43). He basically says, I expected more from you; all these things you were capable of doing, you did not do. They, like the 3rd servant, may have been afraid. They may have been scared of failing, or of judgement, or they may have felt that what they had to offer wasn’t good enough. So they kept their blessings to themselves and figured the world was better off without their gifts. But it was not; the hungry needed food; the thirsty needed water; the stranger needed a home; the naked needed clothes, and the sick and imprisoned needed someone to care for them.

Like I said at the beginning, this isn’t a plug for volunteer organizations that need your help (though helping others is always a need), and it isn’t a message to scold you for not doing this or that (for then I’d be reaffirming the fear that has already taken residence inside you). But rather it is a call to question: what are you doing with your talents? If you’re a musician, are you bringing God glory through music? If you’re a dancer, are you bringing God glory by dancing? How about a server, are you shining the light of Christ is the places you serve? Or maybe your an encourager, a organizer, or a peace giver; have you realized your gift? Are you sharing it with the world or letting fear keep it hidden? We’ve all been given gifts and abilities that God desires us to use for his glory. Let us then be faithful like the first servants and the sheep, and that small faithfulness with prove we can be trusted with more. 

Touching Tragedy

Today is Write Love On Her Arms Day. I seen a fair amount of To Write Love On Her Arms propaganda in the past few years, and I've known very generally what it was about, but I never really knew the whole story. Yesterday a kid in one of my classes gave a presentation on the group footnoting the mission, vision, key players, year of foundation, and some programs it offers. Then he gave the expanded story about its origins. It started with a nineteen-year-old girl named Renée who's been overwhelmed with struggle all her life: alcohol and drug addiction, sexual abuse, depression, attempted suicide. For a week she was taken in by a group of people who soon called her friend. Their mission was simply to love, to show her how much she was truly worth. From the statements of a member on the original team:

It might be simple but more and more, I believe God works in love, speaks in love, is revealed in our love... Take a broken girl, treat her like a famous princess, give her the best seats in the house. Buy her coffee and cigarettes for the coming down, books and bathroom things for the days ahead. Tell her something true when all she's known are lies. Tell her God loves her. Tell her about forgiveness, the possibility of freedom, tell her she was made to dance in white dresses. All these things are true. 

This and so much more is the story that began To Write Love On Her Arms. 

After hearing that story, my heart was truly touched. I could identify with their calling and their vision and wanted to do something to help. That was yesterday. Today it was only natural that I participated in the movement and wrote LOVE in large letters across my arm. I hoped that for those that didn't already know, it could be a conversation starter. Especially since I'd so recently been familiarized with the organizations origins, the timing couldn't have been more perfect. 

But after seeing my neighbor whose family had been very much effected because of depression and self-mutilation, I realized the extent of the statement I was making. Though the company itself has embraced its main-stream acceptance (after all it is spreading awareness), I suddenly felt strange wearing LOVE as my advertisement. I realized, maybe for the first time, the tragedy all around me that I don't can't even begin to understand.

In my life, I feel there's always been a few degrees of separation between myself and deep pain. One of my very best friends grew up with a similar life story as Renée, but by the time I met him, he'd already been touched by love and had largely moved passed most of those struggles. Others of my close friends have shared very personal stories of pain in the lives of their loved ones, but these are people that I don't directly know, and though I can share in the worries of my dear friend, I realize that I truly don't understand the heartache that they feel. 

In my hometown, I had something my friends and I liked to call the 'Amy Greenlee card.' I was goody-two-shoes to the core. So much so that parents of my friends would automatically allow their kids to do things and go places (when they may have originally been uncertain) just because I was going to be there. I was never the chaperone or anything like that, but they knew if I was doing that/ going there, their child wouldn't be doing anything with which they would disapprove. I was and still am perfectly comfortable with living my life that way. My good girl image wasn't a thing of pressure or a thing to be abused, but simply reality.

It was also a reality that I was never involved in drama. Since at least high school I've been known for my down-to-earth personality. It's easy for me to go with the flow, enjoy the simple things of life and not take it too seriously. This also means involving myself in petty arguments never really happened. Nothing was a big enough deal to fight about.

But maybe the good girl and anti-drama queen images weren't as great as I thought them to be. No, I don't suddenly want to dabble with all the craziness of life or start making mountains from mole-hills (in fact, I'm very content and proud of who I am) but I do want want to wear on my arms a statement like love and know that it's not just a word. I want to dig in the messiness of people's lives, be involved in their drama and share in their heartache. The impossibility of me living out the fullness of that word is impossible, I realize, but I hope to touch tragedy in such a way that unites me, the goody-two-shoes with the one who's redemption sings a beautiful song of mercy and grace. And the desire is that both of us together will push each other closer to the fullness that is found in Christ Jesus, and let his love cover all.

Prayer for the Busy

"Who am I, Lord? In the rush of life I've pressed ahead, but I'm not sure I've always known what I was doing. Take me back in time today. Bring the scenes of my life into focus. Take me back to a room called Remember, and let me find my faith. Amen"

~Wayne Brouwer in his book Walking on Water

Twisting Colored Tiles

So this entire semester has been a struggle for me. Especially the past month in regards to homework, I have very little motivation and end up putting off what I should really be getting done for much less important activities. I have plenty of free time but somehow it always disappears because I check Facebook or email hundreds of times for no apparent reason, or I spend time snacking when I'm not hungry (food as comfort), or honestly I just sit in my room thinking of all I should be doing but am putting off. Recently I rediscovered the never-ending time-warp called Tetris. I find myself play a quick two-minute game every time I have a little bit of free-time. And many times I end up wasting more than half an hour. It's horrible and pointless, and the worst part is, I know it but play it anyway. I remember my junior year of high school I also was obsessed with tetris. I played it constantly and didn't realize it was a problem until I was watching a movie in theaters and started imagining how tetris pieces formed around people's heads and the environment around them. It hasn't been that bad yet this year, but at the rate I'm going, I'll be dreaming tetris sooner that I think. What is it that makes Tetris so captivating, why do I constantly want to reach higher levels? And why can't I be that absorbed with the things that really matter? 

I've wanted to learn guitar for probably five years now, and could probably make the time if it was a priority to me, but instead I play tetris. I also should be running/exercising more than I do but every time I think of it, I make the excuse that I don't have time. Even communication with friends (whether through letter, skype or talking on the phone) doesn't happen as often as it should because of this ridiculous tetris addiction. At Hope right now it's the season of Nykerk (a freshman/ sophomore competition that takes up 2 hours a night) which I wisely decided I shouldn't participate in because I had other more valuable things to which I needed to devote my time. It was a super tough decision because I truly did love Nykerk last year, but I knew my energies would be better spent elsewhere. What I didn't know was that elsewhere would soon turn into twisting colored tiles, indeed not a better use of my time.

Even worse than not prioritizing my homework or relationship with people is not prioritizing time with God. For the past year and some, I've been on a spiritual plateau of sorts, I say I want to get closer to God again, to really get to know Him more, but I choose not to put in the effort. I've hit a spiritual wall and can't seem to motivate myself to get over it. I'd rather do what's easy and what requires little work, ergo facebook, email, food or tetris. This is incredibly problematic considering the things I'm involved in at the moment and my future carer interests. Right now I'm a leader for Wyld Life (the middle school version of Young Life) and a youth/children's leader in my church. If I'm not growing in my faith, how can I expect others to grow in theirs? And how can I be a part of that growth if I'm not living my life as a testimony? I'm at a loss for direction. I've become 'busy' and replaced all that is truly important for momentary satisfaction. 

What would my life look like if I was constantly trying to reach higher levels in the things that truly mattered? In my friendships? In my guitar playing ability? In my health/fitness? In my relationship with God? Am I willing give up those twisting tiles for something better?

Yes. I've finally had enough. 

Prayer for the Questioner

"God of freedom, help us find our wings. Help us to take flight, not burdened artificially by religious trappings that violate what you have made us to be. Help us doubt with courage, but not with carelessness. And let our doubts lead us to ground that is firmer than rule or coercion or force. In the freedom of Christ we ask it. Amen."

~Wayne Brouwer in his book Walking on Water

Questions

"Religion that leaves no room for doubt robs faith of its vitality." ~Wayne Brouwer


So recently I've realized that I have a lot of questions. I've never thought myself to be an incredibly rational person, and I don't often need to have answers for life to make sense. Nobody I know pegs me as a skeptic or over-analyzer (in general, the exact opposite is true), but right now, I'm denying my character and accepting that doubt is a part of me too. Here I am, wanting answers, wanting somehow for the puzzle pieces to  fit together in a neat little pattern, but not knowing exactly where to start.


Right now I'm taking two religion classes, and though Hope's a Christian college and my professors are obviously Christians, these classes are somewhat shaking the things I've believed since I was a little. It's the professors job is to challenge us, and it's working. 

One class I'm taking is Bible Literature, and as of right now our text book is the Old Testament. To be honest, I'm shocked at much of what's written in the Old Testament, especially about the actions of God. I understand that God had a covenant with His people and that Israel was chosen to be a type of "city on a hill" in the world of the day. So it makes sense to have strict rules for a people representing God. But I'm having a hard time seeing the God I've come to know as one who wipes out nations of people and chooses favorites from among His creation. That is not the God I've been taught about. 

Also, in my other Religion class we watched a movie about an atheist mom who for a month lives with a Christian family. And though there were many aspects of the Christian family I liked, there were also many instances when I sided with the atheist (or at least could see her point of view). The Christian family was average, not some super extremist sect, but they proved more judgmental than what I would be and definitely more judgmental than how Jesus is portrayed through the Bible. I'm becoming more and more annoyed with the growing population of Christianity (at least in America) where well-meaning people misrepresent what is to be the community of Christ.

Honestly it scares me how many Christians there are (even though part of me should be overjoyed that more people are accepting Christ – as is the mission of this whole thing called life). Am I just going with the majority because I live in America and being Christian is just the cool thing to do? I hope not, but like I said before, there's a part of me that doesn't understand that desperately needs to. By no means do I think my brain can comprehend the way this world came into being and that's where faith comes in, but at the same time should I sweep all my questions under the rug and dismiss them because there's simply no possible way for me to understand?

I want to love God more than anything else, fall on my face in worship and really absorb myself in His presence, but my rationality as of now, is stopping me. If I want to grow further and have a deeper, more-meaningful impact on this world for Christ, how do I push-on with all my questions? Is there a way to make my puzzle fit together? Or is the beauty in the unsolved pieces?

My Luxury

So yesterday, was Hope's annual Critical Issue Symposium (CIS). Each year, Hope decides on a topic and takes the day from classes to talk about it. Speakers come from different places around the country as well as some are professors who teach here already. Despite the fact that most students view the day as a mini weekend and spend it doing whatever they please (myself included), it really is a neat idea. The classes taught this year involved food on many various levels: eating healthy, food and medicine, growing obesity, agriculture, hunger and poverty etc. Because of my interest in missions and social justice, the last topic really should have grabbed my attention, but alas it did not. As sad as I am to admit, I didn't attend any of the lectures. I instead indulged myself in my own selfishness; I stayed out until 3 A.M. just because I could, slept in incredibly late, went bowling, watched TV, went on Facebook, and managed to squeeze in a little time for homework. Needless to say, I wasn't exactly thinking about the poor or hungry, that is until it slapped me in the face today at lunch... In front of me on the desk as I entered the cafeteria was a sheet of paper with the profile of a single mother of three kids who was on food stamps. For the entire day, she had $4.73 to spend on food for herself (or 30 food stamps). If that price wasn't overwhelming already, in the cafeteria there were also stamp numbers by the food options. The sandwiches alone in the line I went through were 10 food stamps, and the salad that I ended up getting was probably at least that or more (fresh food– fruit or veggies– is always more expensive). Also, the soup I had was 5 food stamps, totaling 15 plus stamps for lunch. If I was that mom, my miniscule lunch would have been more than half of my stamps for the day. I couldn't believe it. And to make the experience even more disheartening, I grabbed an apple to go. Without even thinking, I also took 2 small containers of peanut butter (1.5 ounces together). Then, I looked down to see the stamp value of the peanut butter: 3 stamps per container. It was unreal to me; never had I considered peanut butter a luxury. It really made me think. How does this mother survive? And what else do I have as luxuries that never cross my mind?


Dear God,
Today is a day of realization. Help this quiet cafeteria experience change my life, not only reminding me to be thankful, but prompting me to action. I want to make a difference in this world, but cannot from my peanut butter built hill of selfish desires. Reveal to me how I can impact needs around me. And show me even more that it is not on my own strength and ability that I have luxury; I have been given these things so that I can get outside myself and reach the community and world in which I live. I thank you and I praise you for this day. Amen

Missing Time

"The unexamined life is not worth living" ~Socrates

Journalling used to be a passion of mine; it was the outlet I used to clarify my thoughts, sort out my deepest desires, and make beauty of this world. But over the past few years, my journaling has gone from daily, to weekly, to maybe every once in a while. And on those occasional once-in-a-while days, instead of reflecting on my life (like I'd done before), I'd always try to make up for the lost time and fill in as many random events that I could remember as if not recording them would erase them from history. I'd say what happened in school or something fun my friends and I did over the weekend, but it all seemed so boring and pointless. I was documenting events solely for the sake of remembering them, not gaining any real meaning from them. Self-expression through writing, which was once such a large part of me, was now void of all the meaning it held... So that's why I'm writing now, to change the pattern of inconsistency and monotony. I want to reflect on and gain meaning from life, not only record it. I know there will still be some days I write and some that I do not, some events I record and some I do not, and that's okay. I've learned, that instead trying to make up for missing time, I should hold this very second dear and discover what this very moment is teaching me. I want to expand my view of the world, appreciating life for what it's truly worth, and maybe through my ponderings, I can inspire other's to do the same. So here's to today's exploration and beauty.