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.