Teach me to Forgive

In recent months I have been learning a lot about being a better friend.  Not that I think I was an awful friend before necessarily, but I have come upon circumstances where I have been challenged to love better.  

Forgiveness is one of the hardest things to learn.  Although, from a young age one of the first things we learn how to do is say, “I’m sorry.”  Somehow, as we get older these simple words become harder and harder to utter.  Not only is it hard to say, but it’s hard to accept. 

But, as Christians, we believe that forgiveness and grace are available to us always.  Grace, meaning the unmerited favor of God…we didn’t have to do anything to get this love and forgiveness.  Christians believe we are to strive to show this same grace and forgiveness in our own relationships. 

I’ve gotten the being willing to say, ‘I’m sorry’, thing down (obviously, I still mess up from time to time)…but the forgiveness…well, I kinda suck at this.  I’m certainly not near as good at it as I need to be.

I went to a music concert the other night and like a series of events that only God can orchestrate they sang a few songs through out the night that knocked me down a bit. 

Mostly based off of scripture, one song went, “Time is a thing we can’t recreate…can’t bottle it up for a later date…teach me to number my fleeting days.”  What are you spending your days doing, Regina?  Judging people and their choices, refusing to forgive a friend?  Who do I think I am sometimes?  Hmm…learning to number the beautiful days given to me.  I need to soften my heart. 

The next song really drove it home, “ True love has no defense, it cannot stay at an arms length or sit on the fence.  It knows it’s closest friends will betray and it stands by them faithfully anyway…Love is patient, it holds on tight, holds on tight when the train derails…love will never give up.”   “It’s not keeping track of who’s winning, who’s lost or who's scored…true love is kind.”  Woah...I need to forgive better. 

My eyes were covered in tears.  Even when we’re wronged by a friend…it is our job to find forgiveness…and because we love them, we have to strap on that seat belt and go for the bumpy ride…friendship is not a scoreboard.  I’m not sure why I understand that for my marriage but the friendship part doesn’t always check in.  

I want to be a better friend.  I want to forgive more.  Love more.  Judge Less.  Put down my scoreboard.  Get off the fence and stand faithfully rooted in an understanding of true grace.  

Gates of Charity Close?

When the Church stops being the Church.

I watched a video on Tent City, an un-housed community here in Nashville, a few months back.  A pastor spoke out about allowing the members of this community to remain within his community, although temporary, stating “at some point the gates of charity have to close.”  Hearing this and even thinking about it makes me sick.  It’s statements like this that bastardize the church and create a bad taste in the mouths of many towards Christianity. 

Unconditional love we preach.  As a Methodist Open hearts, open minds, open doors….we exclaim.  But we for sure draw a line.  All churches do, really. 

We’re all guilty of it, myself included.  I could go off on the fact that we should be following Jesus...a  man who called us to get our hands dirty, follow unconditional love, stop being so narcissistic and focussing on our own four walls and our own programming development…but for today I’m going to vent about a specific situation where the gates of charity close and we start to operate as a business as opposed to a community of faith.

My mother began working for the Methodist Church when she was fourteen…probably even sooner…but that’s the earliest I remember her talking about having a job.  She became her small churches choir director in the country of Charleston, SC.  She got her degree in Music Education and Vocal Performance and continued working for larger churches, developing their choral programs. Not only was she a member of Charleston Opera Company, a soloist performer all over town, she worked at different churches around Charleston during her early career. As time went on she and my father traveled across the globe as a military family.  Each church my mom began attending she quickly stepped in to the role of Director of Music and Christian Education.  She built music programs in churches from the ground up on Guam, in Italy, Panama, California to name a few.  She was a rock star.  Musicals, Cantatas, Symphonies, Volunteer Trainings, Sunday School Curriculums…you name it I grew up watching my mom do it.  To say that who I am and the desires of my heart to use my love of dance and music in the church world were shaped by my mom would be an understatement.  Through out most of my childhood she showed me how it was done. 

On August 2 my mother will have been sick in the hospital for exactly a month.  We’re honestly not sure what is wrong.  She’s gotten better in many regards, but something is still neurologically off.  I’ve learned through various experiences that when we find ourselves in prolonged illnesses that while we sit in a hospital bed, unfortunately the world does turn on.  Days go by, experiences happen…life keeps going.  It’s harsh, but real.

My father got a call today stating that the church my mother has worked for the past 14 years has decided after one month that they will be rehiring someone in her place.  Now, there are lots of logical reasons behind this decision.  A Church is, afterall, a business at the end of the day.  Programs continue and need developing.  Children still need Sunday School Teachers to be trained….but it raises my eyebrow and makes me wonder…

After 14 years, more hours worked above and beyond what my mother’s paycheck was and the call of duty, many overworked weeks and weekends later, many job responsibilities well outside her job description later…she is left unemployed.  Now, I understand the rationale behind the decision and I know the United States is so great and has lots of resources to help in situations like this…that is not the point at all…the point is…what is the church?  What is it supposed to be?  I’m not going to answer the question…I’m only going to say…I think at some point some people think the gates of charity close and I think those people give the church a terrible name.  That’s a name I wont ever be a part of. 

And the Wind Died Down

So, I lost favorite child status today.  You laugh, but in a family with four children there is always the running joke of who the favorite child is at that moment. 

It reminds me of a little plaque I bought my mom for Christmas one year.  It was this wooden red apple that read “Please be Patient and take a number” with four numbers attached to its stem.  I wrote a little card alongside it telling my mom this might help her quiet us down when we all spoke over one another.

Any multi-sibling household is constantly full of noise, arguments, competition, jokes and mayhem and chaos. :-) 

As I sit in the hospital with my mama it’s made me think a lot about my childhood.  Nostalgia goes hand in hand with taking care of loved ones.  I’ve thought about when you scrape your knee and your mom cleans the wound.  Of when you and your older brother get in to a fight over the remote and she sends you to your room.  Of when your little brother gets caught doing Power Ranger Karate on you and strangling you in the living room…..errr…umm…was this only my family? 

It’s made me think about how life is a journey.  A journey we don’t get to stop.  We’re constantly walking whether we like it or not.  No amount of hoping for a moment to breath will change the fact that life keeps turning, years keep going by…and it’s our job what we do with those moments, how we take care of ourselves and who we spend those moments with.  Our actions always have a reaction.

Last night my little brother and I spent the night taking care of our mom.  Until around 2:00 my little brother and I stood on either side of our mom and helped keep her calm. Around 2:30 she began to calm down and we both lay down by her bed.  About an hour later we woke up to help calm her again.  But something happened…my little brother jumped up before me as I said, “You got it, Jim?”  He nodded.  I watched him take great care of my mom and every now and again I would get up and help him.  Around 5:00 he looked at me and said “Were you able to get a little sleep?”  My heart smiled.  The little boy who was caught strangling me, pouring milk in my hair, putting vinegar in my apple juice (both bothers get credit for this), and my ever favorite cutting my ponytail straight off my head before my sixth grade year had stood by my mom that much longer trying to allow me to get a bit more sleep.

 

Life is a journey.  Relationships change.  Roles change.  Favorite child status changes day to day ;) We are fearfully and wonderfully made.  God knows our every move and thought and desires for us to experience each moment and treat ourselves kindly.  We don’t get any moment back. 

My prayer today is obviously healing for my mama and rest for my families minds and spirits.  But it’s also for you: wherever you are, that you remember each moment we walk through is just that…a passing moment.  I hope you are surrounded by and doing the things you love and believe to be God’s best for you.  Because either way…time keeps going.  There’s no need to be afraid either way. You might as well live in to the joy we were created to experience.  

“Take courage it is I! Do not be afraid.  Then he climbed in the boat with them and the wind died down.”  Mark 6:50-51

Perspective

So, I’ve been doing this 30 Day Yoga Challenge. Each day I have come to my mat with a different perspective.  I don’t want to be here…I’m so mad we’re doing another flow…Gosh this feeling is amazing…ouch I hurt.  But, each class I have tried to come back to my breath.  Come back to fully taking in the experience and walking away with a new perspective. 

  A few days ago I took two classes almost back to back.  My second class was a silent class and with the sound of each buzzer we were to change poses.  Now, I am not too big on silence…I’ve had to train myself to find solitude and it’s benefits…but…I was up for the challenge.  Two minutes in to class I hear this loud grunting behind me.  My focus was taken back to an elderly gentleman behind me.  I wanted to stay focused, so I quickly turned my gaze back to one inch above my mat.  Through out class my silence was broken by this gentleman making struggling sounds…sighs of pain.  It was at this moment I really saw perspective.  From his view he felt defeat, struggle, anger, force, perhaps judgement…but from my view all I felt was love, understanding.  I wanted so badly to put my hand over his heart and tell him to let his body be for awhile…perhaps it wouldn’t fight against him.

You know, I think our lives some times are like a hot yoga class.  Finding peace under stressful circumstances…that we have often times inflicted upon ourselves.  I walked in to this hot room.  I asked to sweat my pants off.  So why am I so angry at my teacher for asking me to hold a pose for thirty more seconds?  And why do we have such a hard time allowing ourselves to sit and be still? 

If the older gentleman behind me had just taken a moment and allowed his body to sit…lay… breathe…he would have gained that much more from his experience.  But instead…he decided to push through.

I have the tendency to push through.  I’ve noticed a lot of my twenty-something year old friends are trying to push through.  We want to get it right.  We want to be successful.  We’re go-getters, so we're pushing our way to the top no matter the struggle…and perhaps feeling like we're struggling to make life work.  But, I wonder…what if we just laid in a neutral position for a second…took the time to breathe in and exhale…would our life fall in to place?  Would our bodies allow us to move in to the next pose instead of feeling like we have to force it? 

This obviously goes against the grain of what we’re told.  “Fight your way to the top!”  “Never, never give up!”  “Keep pressing forward against all odds!”  But what if we could find peace through adversity?  What about taking time to exhale?  What about allowing our hard work to lead us to our goal rather than forcing our goal to happen? 

Maybe all we really need to do is exhale. 

Good Intentions

I sat down this morning to my cup of coffee and began to journal.  I kept thinking about Intentions.  And as I began to write...I thought...I think I've written about this before. Hah, sure enough...my second trip to Sierra Leone...I was thinking about the exact same thing!  I wrote this right after participating in The Raining Season's first feeding program in Kroo Bay.  Kroo Bay was named The Worlds Worst place to live by the United Nations in 2009.  Each time I have gone, there has been a riot of some kind.  But...imagine...hundreds upon hundreds of people breaking out in fights outside the building we were working in...children yelling, crying, bones breaking.  What began as a our efforts to feed children who we met singing, clapping and laughing quickly turned in to mass hysteria.  As I sit two years removed from this experience.  I still haven't learned my lesson on my good intentions.  Sometimes we walk in to a situation and without batting an eye have created...unnecessary drama. Well...anyways...maybe I should listen to my own advice some times :-)  

Good Intentions. In relationships we all have good intentions. There is usually a person in the relationship who means well. Whether it is for better or worse, in an ideal situation, we have the best interest of the person we are relating to at heart. Is this always true? No. But stay with me. I have a friend who has been in a rough place in life recently and I have had the best intentions of being there for them. I felt like they needed someone to be there. They needed a shoulder to cry on. More than that...I wanted to be that person because of how much I care for them. Loving them will help them get through this time, I thought. But what a person actually needs and how we see to fix it are not always the same thing. Did this person need ‘my’ love…maybe…but perhaps there was a deeper need I was not meeting. 

A few days before I left for my trip I ran into a homeless women and her child with Down syndrome. Standing in the cold with no coat, I decided it would help the situation if I were to pull over and give her my coat. The mom promptly told me…I can’t carry any more things, and my daughter will not wear your coat because she does not trust you. My intentions were good. I did not meet their need, this time. 

Which brings me to my next point. Relationships require trust…which requires time. On our way down here a Finish man sat in front of us as we drove to the dock to board the boat to Freetown. He asked me what we were doing and when I told him he said, "you’re only here 9 days? What can you do in nine days but show your face and leave?" I thought, "We sure can do a lot in 9 days, sir!" This all may sound like rambling but inside my head I’m beginning to sort through some questions about relationships. Not only with our loved ones but the broken hearted, the orphaned, the forgotten. You see we can have the best intentions but if we are not feeding the actual need we do no good. If we don’t take the time to ask, "what is it that you need?" we may be trying to build a house on sinking sand. My friend may well have needed me to leave him alone. And rather than assume I could fix the problem with a coat I should have asked the homeless women what I could do for her. Because we can have the best intentions…but when I look at the works of Jesus…he didn’t assume…he got in there and found out what the problem was. And more poignant than that…generally he had TRUST of the people he was relating to.

I see this happening here in Sierra Leone. I see The Raining Season building trust and taking time to address the need they see in front of them before jumping in and fixing the problem they see fit to solve. I see intentionality. They are addressing things from the inside out. They are building relationships one-step at a time. But…simply asking the right questions doesn’t always solve the problem right away either. Nothing is ever easy. 

Today in Kroo Bay…I saw desperation. I’ve seen it before. Last time Beth and I were here we created quite a mob as we past out baby dolls and had to be escorted out with the soccer team barricading around us to keep the children from bombarding us. But today…it was unimaginable. I don’t quite know how you problem solve that. So many variables are involved in the reason why this village lays in the extreme poverty that it does , that all the good intentions in the world will do nothing without a little trial and error. 

We went in today to feed 5000 children! Initially, they were going to bring in 2500 and give them two meals to take to another child. Once we got there…things looked a bit different. We began handing out a plate of rice with a fish sauce and water to each child. As the first group of children finished their meals they were escorted out of the building and the next round of children were going to be brought in. Things began to get a little chaotic, but we got them fed and out. Then…hysteria broke out. We ran out of hot food and were just going to give a bag with 2 cups of rice per child as they came through a line. More and more children and parents began storming the doors of the building. Children began beating each other up. Strangling one another. Pushing, shoving. Crying. As children came through the line we noticed many of them limping and we knew things outside were not going well. They began having us hand out packets of rice through the window because we could no longer safely bring children in to the building. We calmed the crowd down and tried to bring a few children in. As I looked down, a little boy ran by crying and holding his hand tightly…his fingers were broken. Another little girl ran in crying holding her hand tightly and Cari and I ran to see if she was alright…her finger was either sprained or broken as well. With no tape or medical supplies, Cari and I were able to use our pony-tail holders to splint the little girls finger as best we could. 

What do you do when your best intentions begin to create such hysteria that desperately hungry parents and children are hurting one another so severely? How do you problem solve that? What system do you try next? How do you problem solve that according to the context of the culture that you live in? I’ve heard of it being done in other countries…but this is a different relationship, you see…you can’t do things the way you would do them in Nashville, Cambodia, Panama, Russia…it has to be done the Sierra Leonian way. What way is that? How do you help a village voted the World’s Worst place to live?? It goes without saying that it was an incredible blessing that enough money was raised to feed 5000 children. A Feeding Program began today that will continue over the years and, by trial and error, a model will be implemented to help children get a hot meal without being stampeded to the ground. But…how? It wont be done in 9 days time. It will be done by the sustainable presence of organizations like TRS that are willing to move in to the neighborhood. Organizations that are willing to say…this can look differently…organizations that say…Dreams. Spark. Change. I believe we are all in a place to have a sustainable impact in ministries like this…but, if anything, I think we should begin looking at our intentions within our relationships. Are they what the other person needs? Are we building trust? Are we moving in for 9 days, long enough to show our face and then hitting the road? Or are we building sustainable, trusting, meaningful deep relationships where we get to the root of the matter and figure out why God placed us in that person’s life? I’m sure beginning to figure out my place here. No answers yet…but I’ll let you know when I do. Until then...Help me fight to SAVE the ORPHAN! We'll keep trying things till we figure out how to restore God's kingdom together! 

Intentionally and Unconditionally (hah), Regina

When your Coffee Splatters All Over the Sidewalk

Last night I was walking home from work.  I’ve been having a stressful couple of weeks and as I took each step was deep in thought (shocker.)  I looked up just in time to watch as a homeless man ahead of me dumped his coffee all over the sidewalk.  His head shot back in exasperation…and then hung low as he took a deep breath.  He dropped his large backpack and other items in his hands….picked up the empty cup of coffee and began to gather his belongings once more.  I ran straight in to the grocery store on the corner and asked the man at the counter for a cup of coffee.  As the man behind the counter moved at actual snails pace…my exasperation grew…”Come on, dude…I just want to catch this man so I can give him a new cup of joe for gosh sakes.”  As the barista slowly capped the cup and handed me my change…I rushed out to see if the man was still there.   Gone.  I walked around a bit to see if I could find him…but alas, there I stood with a hot cup of coffee for…myself. 

As I went through the rest of my evening I kept seeing that cup of coffee falling to the ground, his hands full of other things.  The exasperation he felt was so real.  End of his rope.  What else happened to him that day…week…month…year…one more thing. 

We feel that a lot don’t we?  That we’re carrying too much…that the one thing we need slips right through our hands. 

Makes me think of a video from the Nooma series the youth pastor Rob Bell put together entitled, Shells.  At the end he describes a trip his family took to the beach.  His boys were running along the shore collecting pieces of shells.  After awhile they caught sight of a huge starfish off in the distance.  Rob Bell’s son went running for it…and became anxious and agitated and when Rob said to son, “What’s the problem? Go get it…it’s right there for you!”  He responded, “I can’t, my hands are filled with shells!”  Fragments of a whole filled his hands and it never occurred to him to drop some to grab the huge beauty in front of him.

Rob Bell talks about how much of a parallel this draws to our lives.  How often am I holding fragments of a whole in my hand…unable to discern what I should relinquish in order to grab hold of the thing Jesus waves right in front of me.  Some of the fragments are beautiful…but what have I said yes to, leaving me saying no to something else? 

You see…I don’t want to drop my coffee on the sidewalk.  I want my hands to be open and free for the big prize.  So…as Jesus did in Mark I’ll go away and pray for awhile…ask God to free up my mind of all the little things that may be wonderful, but leave me unable to say yes to what he wants of me.

Perhaps then I wont be so stressed out J  

Affirm This.

On Saturday I served as a cocktail waitress for an event that cost…well let’s just say…more than my wedding will probably cost.  Hundreds of family members and friends gathered together to lavishly celebrate a birthday.  There was a DJ, dance floor, open bar, buffet of appetizers, buffet of main entrées, coffee bar, desert bar…you name it…they had it.  It was a party I wished I was attending as opposed to serving, for sure! As I went table to table checking on guests, and pushed my way through the crowd to serve trays of drinks I nodded my head to the music and wished I could join everyone on the dance floor.  It was a fun party, but it was a long night.   Their birthday celebration did not end until 1:30, which meant the staff and myself did not leave until 2:45am.  As I bussed all of the tables and began carrying platters back to the kitchen and stacked the dishes by the dish washing station…I noticed him…Emmanuel*, the man who washes all of our dishes.  I've noticed him before.  I've introduced myself, said hello...but much of our interaction has been quick as I've hurried back to my guests. 

As I stacked the dishes in my hands for him to wash, I carried on my usual interaction: smiled and said thank you.  In broken English he hurriedly said, “You’re welcome.”  I couldn’t help but pause for a moment and lock eyes with him.  This sixty something year old man, wrinkles beginning to form around his eyes, sweat gathering on his forehead…I thought to myself…I wonder what his story is.  I wonder if he has a wife waiting at home.  Children?  Grand children?  What did he do before this job?  Has he worked here long?  And then the big question that truly pierced my heart…when was the last time someone affirmed him in his hard work?  The dishes stacked higher and higher and higher…was his heart racing?  Was he wondering when he’d actually get home tonight?  Does this happen most nights?  I turned around and returned to gather more dishes.  By the time I came back the dishes had stacked even higher and as I set my dishes down and began organizing them to make it a little easier on him…my heart had to move a bit…I went around to Emmanuel…placed my hand on his shoulder.  He jumped.  Startled.  I said, “Thank you so much for your hard work.”  And I smiled, locking eyes with him.  He looked at me stunned.  And after a moment.  Said, “Thank you, mi preciosa.”  Now, my thanks did not make Emmanuel’s work load any lighter…my thanks did not do much of anything…some might argue it just made me feel better.  BUT, I would argue…that what it did do was validate Emmanuel and affirm him as a man working by my side.  What it did was make him a real person to me.  And it made me a real person to him.  It put us on an even plane.

There is a huge amount of separation in our culture.  I saw it on perhaps a more exaggerated level when I traveled abroad, but I’m seeing it every day now right here where we live.  How do we bridge the gap?  

Affirmation and validation.  A simple touch.  A simple word of thanks.  A simple word of recognition.  Has the potential to bridge the gap between server and dishwasher…Manager and Employee…Child and Adult…Educated and Less educated…Homeless Man and Businessman.  I’m learning that part of opening our eyes to the need in the world and part of just playing the part of a person here on this planet is to truly look around and see…who am I ignoring…who can I affirm…who can I validate?  It starts here…Affirmation…it paves the way and invites true change to begin to emerge.