I lift My Voice...

When I was in the sixth grade I came home and asked my mom if racism still existed.  Now, you may question whether I had been living under a rock or not…and you’d be right in a sense.  

I grew up in a Military family and lived outside of the U.S. until age 6.   By age 11, in 1997, I had only lived in the U.S. for 2 1/2 years of my life.  Now, I was well aware of other issues at play in our world.  My eyes were opened to extreme poverty living in Panama and I stepped through Desert Storm as a young child in Italy.  But, in the fifth grade I gave a speech for Black History Month where I celebrated the accomplishments of Oprah Winfrey and Marian Anderson (the first black opera singer to sing at The Met)….my brain truly believed racism was a thing I studied in history books and celebrated the divide we had bridged in school assemblies.  

In sixth grade I found myself living in Alabama.  My father had recently retired from the military and I was the “new girl” in school.  I was describing “my old friends” with a friend one day (as the new girl typically does) and mentioned that my friend Tasha would probably come to visit.  My friend said, “Is Tasha black? That sounds like a 'black' name.”  The answer was, ‘yes’, but that fact seemed irrelevant and perplexing that it had even been asked.  I answered his question and he said, “Well, I can’t hang out with her then.”  My brain quickly did the math to realize I had encountered real life racism for the first time.  

When I came home to my mother, I had been processing all day.  I didn’t understand.  My heart was hurt.  Full of questions.

I’m not sure my mother realized just how sheltered I had been...growing up in rural South Carolina in the 50's and 60's she knew first hand what segregation looked like...but the language of division or 'us and them' had never been used in our home.  She quickly acknowledged and affirmed the reality I lived until this point was a blessing and that racism was a present reality.  We sat down and decompressed the conversation that had happened earlier.  And we discussed how I might respond when I encountered something like that in the future.  

We soon moved from Alabama to New Orleans….and although much more of a melting pot and although I went to an amazing school with an incredible number of people who exposed me to different cultures, races and religions…I was surrounded by affluence. I was surrounded by opportunity.  And thankfully, I was surrounded by acceptance.  The social and racial divide in Greater New Orleans, however, is daunting and, to be blunt, in your face.  If I thought I encountered racism in small town Alabama….I uncovered a very real, present-day problem for our culture.   (This is in no way a knock against either state….for I have dear friends from Alabama still and New Orleans is the hometown I dearly love.)

Now, even with these experiences I’ve always thought that racism and segregation were still not as bad as they used to be.  Can I say how ridiculous it is that essentially that previous statement means, “Well….atleast we’re not AS racist as we USED to be?”  Disgusting.  Unacceptable.  And furthermore, I’ve found my ignorance in the recent continued shootings spraying across our country, for I thought there were far more people of acceptance in this country than there truly are………..racism between black and white, gay or straight, Muslim or Christian, housed and unhoused, mentally ill and not.  This list goes on.  And my heart aches.  Merely putting a hashtag and the city or the group of people I’m praying for does not cut it anymore.  I’ll still be praying….but I lift my voice to say I want to create change.  I lift my voice to say we can’t stand for racism ANYMORE.  I lift my voice to say this country should be about love and we should DEMAND that.  Because I believe our children will grow up in a world where racism is a thing of the past….in history books….where we say, “we were WRONG THEN and we embrace HUMANITY NOW.”  I believe we are in the midst of a great shift in our country....and I lift my voice to say I am a person of love and acceptance, with the deeply rooted belief that God's love will conquer the hatred and separation in our midst.

Love has to speak out to be heard over the triggers and venomous words inundating our country.  I lift my voice. And my fervent prayer is that you will too.  

Results--Tales of a Mom in Ministry

I've now been a mommy for 10 months!  As a dancer and yoga enthusiast I was anxious to get back to working out.  Life as a mom, and certainly three months in as a working mom, left much less time for this than I originally anticipated.  And quite honestly, I wasn’t entirely motivated to work out at all.  

My first few months back to work feel a blur. BUT…I do know that from time to time I would race to the gym for thirty minutes before time to pick my daughter up from school. I found myself incredibly frustrated that so many of my post pregnancy comrades seemed to be shedding their baby weight so quickly….while I stayed in the exact same place.  It drove me crazy I that was not seeing results. 

Since April I’ve been going to spin classes twice a week.  And a month ago I added a Weight Training class…nothing crazy….it’s jazzercise with weights, to be honest.  Every week I step on the scale and there I sit….coasting at the exact same number I saw on the scale 6 weeks postpartum.  Seriously?  For a dancer and performer minded human this could not be more frustrating.  I don’t eat terribly and I drink a gallon of water daily.  I have all the ingredients for success.  What gives?  

Who knows….but I stopped trying to figure it out and started praying that God would help me to be confident and happy where I am.  Now….I’ve been praying for this mindset shift for a few months now…and I’ve gotten really good at pretending I’m cool with it all…but the other night a game changer occurred. 

I tend to pray a lot while I work out….pray that I actually make it out alive, haha…but mostly, it’s a great tool to quiet my mind.  Working out has always been a way for me to find Sabbath and rest…even in the midst of exerting energy. Two days ago I got to spin class a bit early…as I slowly pedaled I took a deep breath and all of a sudden I thought, “I really feel great. Genuinely great.”  Not just physically, but emotionally.  It’s been 10 months since I felt anywhere close to my old self.  I’ve felt glimpses of it here and there…but  in that moment I truly felt my spirit lift. As I started to pedal faster and faster I could feel that workout adrenaline beginning to climb.  I felt God’s presence and I thought, “you don’t do this for results.  You do this to be faithful.”  I said it again in my head.  “You don’t do this for results. You do this to be faithful.”  

My eyes began to tear a little and a I began to smile.  I pedaled faster and stronger for the rest of class than I ever have.  

I don’t work out to loose baby weight.  I work out to be strong, healthy, to quiet my mind, to gain energy to give to my family and my life.  I work out to be faithful to the body I have been given.  This phrase hit me as hard as it did because honestly the same can be said for so many things.  I am not Evelyn Mae’s mom because I expect results….yes, it’s a byproduct at times…but through out her life I will not always see positive results…I’ll continue to love her and be there, however, because I am faithful.  Marriage isn’t always filled with those fluttery butterflies but I am Jeff’s wife always because I am faithful.  And I didn’t walk in to ministry because I expected to see results.  I walked in to ministry because God asked me to and I am faithful.  This may be the biggest, hugest realization for me.  Perhaps a 'no brainer' to everyone else in ministry….but I am learning that being faithful doesn’t always produce a positive outcome.

Much like my frustration on the scale, recently I experienced a situation where I was rejected in ministry.  The kind of rejection where even after you sit back and look at all your ingredients you still go, “How did this happen?”  I think I always thought you could see a successful ministry by your results and I’m learning that some times you have to remind yourself that we’re in ministry because we’re being faithful to God…not for any tangible results we may see. 

The question has been asked, “Will you continue in ministry?”  

The answer is simply, “DUH.” ;-)

I felt The Holy Spirit ask me to journey in to ministry when I was 16 and I began working in full time ministry when I was 22….because I am rejected once does not mean I run….anywhere.  Especially when I feel confident in my heart that I was being faithful to God.   And just because I don’t see the number I used to on the scale doesn’t mean my working out is in vain.  Great is thy Faithfulness, Oh God.  I will keep going to the gym.  And I will keep serving God. Why?  Because, God’s hold on my life is greater than a scale and it’s certainly greater than the rejection of a few.