It was a few short months until my wedding day. Eric and I were in the throes of planning for the big day, which was set to take place in a beautiful little church in Memphis. I was sitting in a tall chair in a department store, the smells from the perfume counter overpowering my nose. A young, fair skinned woman was applying my eye shadow and blush, in an attempt to discover my "wedding day look." I had never had a makeover before, and I recall feeling special. Important, even. I smiled and let the make up artist in front of me do her magic. She was pretty quiet, until a few African American teenage girls loudly walked by. Then she started to speak.
"There are way too many black people that have taken over this mall. My friends and I have nicknamed Memphis - Memfrica."
My heart just about popped out of my chest. WHAT?!?!? I could tell my face was instantly flushed. She clearly didn't notice because she kept on going. I sat in my chair in complete disbelief. I went to school in Chicago. I had DEAR friends who were black. And I had just - as in A MONTH prior to this instance - returned from South Africa where I studied abroad for five weeks. The purpose of my studies were to learn about the history of the country, the progression and abolition of apartheid, the roots of slavery, the depth of racism in our own country, and efforts of reconciliation here and abroad. Her words made me physically ill. I couldn't even say anything. I stood up, with only one eye fully made over and simply walked away. I didn't feel special or important as I walked away. I felt shame. I felt dirty. I should have yelled at her. I knew I was privileged just because of my skin color. I knew it and I hated it. And I was mad at myself that I was so infuriated but had said nothing. I wasn't going to let that happen again.
I remember, years later, calling out a coworker for making a racist comment. His story began with "This car drove by... you know, a typical black man's car..." I couldn't contain my shock and disgust at that comment, so I spoke up.
And when a white friend of mine dropped the N word, I spoke up.
And when another coworker made comments about the way the black teenager who was filling her grocery bags talked, I spoke up.
Now, here I sit. I'm tired from a day of holding and comforting a teething baby. My back aches, my eyes are puffy. I want to go to bed. But not as badly as I want to speak up. My heart is breaking for this country. I just sat and watched the news, of rallies taking place across our nation - of people of every color standing up for black lives. "No justice, no peace," they chant. Moments later, the camera pans to officers down, people running scared. The nation I live in is crumbling. I can recall the times I stood up, with my hand over my heart, and proudly belted out our national anthem. Now I hear the words... "the land of the free..." and it causes me to pause.
Because this is not the land of the free. We are an oppressed people. ALL OF US. The black face is not the enemy. The white face is not the enemy. The Muslim face is not the enemy. Homosexuals are not the enemy. No matter the color, the religion, the sexual orientation, birth origin, level of education, whether you carry a gun or not, whether you are a conservative right or liberal left, or whether you are right or wrong - there is ONLY ONE ENEMY. Just one.
The enemy is a thief. He comes only to steal and kill and destroy" (John 10:10). This enemy is destroying the unity of a country that claims to be united IN ITS NAME. This enemy is stealing our humanity, turning us in on each other so that we point fingers at those who think and act and behave differently than we do in order that we can sleep at night all tucked into a bed of superiority and self righteous reasoning. This enemy is killing. He doesn't have a preference of skin color. To him a life is a life - and one more life without the hope of redemption is the name of his game.
Is anyone out there TIRED of playing this game??? Shouldn't our fingers be exhausted by now? How much longer can we point at each other and blame? How much longer can we ignore the truth of the state of our nation right now? In our own country in the past few years there are mass shootings that have taken place in an elementary school, movie theater, college campuses, nightclub, church, grocery store, military centers, THE LIST GOES ON. There are children, teenagers and adults who are trafficked right out of this country to be sold into slavery EVERY DAY. More than 46 million people live in poverty in this country. Where I live. Where you live. Where our children live.
I can't do it anymore. The "Hi, how are you?" "Good! Just busy, you know," kind of on the surface conversations that happen over and over again. Can we talk?? Please? Can we discuss the future of this place we call home and how we can try to stand united again? Can we have the difficult, uncomfortable conversations in our churches?? Can we challenge each other to see past the divisive diversion of race, religion, politics and sexual orientation and claim UNITY AND FREEDOM in the ONE who brings unity and freedom? Jesus was sent to bind up the broken hearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives, and release from darkness for the prisoners... (Isaiah 61:1). We may not live in the land of the free, but we can find freedom in the only One who can give it.
Black lives matter. I have studied much, travelled far and witnessed racism to the point of understanding it well - but I will never KNOW what it is like to be judged because of my skin color. In the same breath, I say that the lives of white cops matter just as much. I am proud to be a part of a family with generations of outstanding police officers and members of the military, who put others' lives before their own on a daily basis. The lives of every person on this planet matter. The life of a serial killer still matters to our God who has the ability to save it.
Friends, let's have the difficult conversations. Let's listen to each other. Let's challenge our pastors to pray with our congregations for these groups of people who are being targeted - not by a single person, political group or religious sect - but by an unseen enemy who is trying to cripple us and prevent us from seeing the greater picture. Reconciliation can happen when we invite God to be a part of the ugliest situations. Healing can happen when we allow God to soften our hearts towards one another. Let's remember who the real enemy is, and begin showering each other with grace, humility, compassion and gentleness.
Thursday, July 7, 2016
Tuesday, February 23, 2016
Lost and Found
February. In my opinion, its the worst month of the year. Winter seems to be dragging on and on and on... We have already seen at least ten rounds of sickness cycle through our house. Cabin fever has made itself very comfortable in our midst. A slight brushing of one shoulder against another can lead to an all out brawl on the kitchen floor between my two eldest, usually resulting in tears and time outs. And this is the month I begin to crave my garden tomatoes. Like, dreaming of ways to incorporate them into every meal. I find myself wishing for summer, when the cavemen that live in my house can get OUT of the house and I can enjoy fresh garden veggies and raspberries right off the bush in my back yard.
Here's the thing. In the month I hate the most, during a season that mirrors my emotions and ragged outlook, I feel like I am being pulled out of hibernation early. I can't explain it. I recently wrote about spiritual gifts and how I feel like God is rekindling my desire to tap into my own, to use what I haven't used in such a long time, to bring glory to His name. I literally feel like I am waking up from a really long nap, no, maybe a coma, to something I have been missing and needing for so long.
I love staying home with my kids all day. One of the best parts of my day is walking into Sammy's room in the morning, peeking over the railing of his crib, and watching his sweet little mouth as it turns into a wide toothless grin as he recognizes his momma coming to get him. I could play games all day with Gabe - Candy Land, Memory, Old Maid, Go Fish, I Spy, Bingo, the list goes on. We laugh and giggle and make pillow forts on the couch. We make up stories where we are the main characters lost in a foreign land made of candy and fly around on top of clouds and hang out with dragons and friendly monsters. Sammy keeps me company with his goo-ing and ah-ing while I fold the laundry. And sometimes I like to pretend that I am a budding chef cooking for the four toughest food critics in the world and the meal I am preparing will determine the fate of my future (in some cases, this is a reality). My day to day life is a blessing, a gift, an honor, a joy. The endless poopy diapers, spit up on my favorite shirt, countless loads of laundry, crusty dirty dishes from four days ago, and inability to have a personal thought - well, I don't really give those a second thought (probably because the inability to have a personal thought prevents me from doing so, but anyways...). I press on, doing what I love, loving who God has entrusted me with.
And then there is this burning in my heart. Heather, there is more. What do you mean, more??? I am exhausted. I have no time. I have no life outside of the walls of my home!! My boys just had to go to school wearing clothes out of their hamper - how can I fit more into my life right now? I want all of you. Um, I am SPENT. I give ALL of myself to everyone around me!! I wake up to a hungry baby, and then I am getting kids out the door for school. The day starts before I even have time to think about my plans for the day! Remember, Heather. Remember Me. And, like a car driving head first into a brick wall, the revelation hit me.
In the weirdest way possible.
I watched this video clip of a darling celebrity couple - Dax Shepard and Kristen Bell - who made a silly, lip synched music video while on a vacation (you can watch it here). As I watched it, a few things happened. First, the song triggered an instant memory. I listened to Toto's 80's hit Africa while riding across the South African landscape in a bus with some college peers. Springbok lept through the grasslands just outside the bus windows. I remember the moment well - like Joy put it in the Disney Movie Inside Out, we all have core memories that are vital to the development of our personalities. This trip to Africa played an important part in awakening my passion for racial reconciliation in this world, and this particular moment in time bonded me and that beautiful country together for life. The second thing this adorable music video did for me was help me remember. I had Eric watch the video too, and we both laughed... hard. Once upon a time, we were silly with each other. Then life happened. So many grown up moments sobered us up and we forgot one of the things that we used to enjoy so much about each other - our ability to be goofy and uninhibited. We could make each other laugh so hard our stomachs hurt. Eric can NOT dance like anyone else I know, and I love him for it. The watching of this music video inspired us to pull out a video we had a friend make for our wedding. In our video, Eric and I talk about our upbringings, how we met, our proposal, and our dreams and plans for the future. We showed our boys, who laughed at how young we both looked. Eric and I locked eyes over our giggling children a few times, laughing as we recalled fond memories, and exchanging a sweet smile when we both realized we were living out our dreams. We were remembering. Remembering what God called us to do. Remembering the reason we fell in love with each other. Getting glimpses of ourselves 12 years ago and recognizing how much we've grown... and how we've stayed the same.
I think I kind of lost myself for a while. I've been trudging through a winter season of my own, for quite a while now, and I hear God calling me to WAKE THE HECK UP. I can't just go through each day, forgetting the things He made me passionate about. Yes, He absolutely has called me to the joys of motherhood and I love every minute of it - well, maybe I don't LOVE blow out diapers, snotty noses and sassy mouths - but you get the idea. He wants me to do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him (Col 3:17). I know I am fulfilling God's current calling in my life.
I am passionate about my family - about loving and giving every ounce of myself to my sweet husband and three precious boys. Oh, and if you mess with my kids or insult my husband in any way, I am just as passionate about putting on my Mama Bear outfit and setting you straight. If you are a momma, you can agree - it takes very little by way of insult or offense to get your blood pumping in defense of your kids. My husband has come home from work with tales of others' disrespect for him and I found myself rolling up my sleeves before he even finished his story. That's passion. But I am passionate about other things as well, and its those things that I feel like God is awakening me to. He's asking me to fan the flames of some all but forgotten passions that have the power - when fully ablaze - to light me on fire with a burning desire to act in some capacity. As Eric and I continue with plans to move forward with adoption in the future, God has been fanning the flame of racial reconciliation. As I observe the constant combat between women and a degrading culture, my passion for drawing other women into Bible study and teaching God's truth as a weapon is seeming paramount. My love for food and cooking has grown a desire to invite others to gather around my table often. And something I have done both with and without Eric - is serving the Lord in the mission field in various countries around the world. I miss travelling and absorbing the beauty and culture of all of the stunning groups of people God has created. Standing shoulder to shoulder with those in a distant land, singing the same song to Jesus but in different tongues, sets my heart on fire.
I don't believe these passions are a thing of the past. My college class that explored the history of South Africa, racism and reconciliation which led to my journey through that beautiful country thirteen years ago has played a part of equipping me for something... and I might only be starting to understand the magnitude of what that something is. It was inspiring to watch that video of Eric and I, as we sat on a plaid blue couch in his parent's old farmhouse, doe-eyed and optimistic, as we vocalized our big dreams. We haven't strayed from that moment - that sweet, fun night as we laughed during takes and tried to get through our stories without forgetting our punch lines. We are still the same Eric and Heather. Our passions that fueled us back then, still fuel us now. Our dreams have come to life. Our plans have worked themselves out, maybe not in the exact way we thought they would, but better - with a richness and depth that life lessons bring. As I gaze at my precious children, I wonder what will they be passionate about? Missions? Serving others? What will make their hurts burn and push them to fight? Racial inequality? Social injustice? What am I teaching them to care about? What I am showing to them that matters? How do I fuse my passions and my day job as a stay at home momma?
As a parent, I invest a lot into my children. I bring them to children's museums and zoos and Disney World and the beach and play dates and art classes and soccer games and church and private school and many other one of a kind experiences that I hope will enrich their lives and help them discover who they are and what they are good at. I imagine God feels the same way, in the way He has brought me through my life, enriching me, teaching me, and enjoying the moments where He gets to surprise me and I cry with excitement. God has made an investment in me, from the day I was born, and NOTHING - no memory, moment, experience, or lesson - is wasted. He is calling me to remember who I am, because in doing so, it reminds me of who He is.
He is a passionate God. He longs for racial reconciliation among His children. He loves His children, no matter the color of their skin, because He doesn't look at outward appearance, He looks at their heart. He has a heart for those struggling with poverty. He teaches us in His Word that whatever we do for the least of these - the hungry, the thirsty, the needy - we do for Him. He has a heart for missions. His Word tells us that the feet of those who bring good news are very beautiful indeed.
God wants more of me. I think I got caught up in the busyness of day to day living, and forgot about the world around me... and the bigger role I play in it. My prayer today is that the fire in my soul would burn... so bright that it spreads to others like a rapid wildfire, unable to be extinguished or controlled. May this cold, dreary winter fade away into a brilliant summer blooming and bursting with colorful passion.
Here's the thing. In the month I hate the most, during a season that mirrors my emotions and ragged outlook, I feel like I am being pulled out of hibernation early. I can't explain it. I recently wrote about spiritual gifts and how I feel like God is rekindling my desire to tap into my own, to use what I haven't used in such a long time, to bring glory to His name. I literally feel like I am waking up from a really long nap, no, maybe a coma, to something I have been missing and needing for so long.
I love staying home with my kids all day. One of the best parts of my day is walking into Sammy's room in the morning, peeking over the railing of his crib, and watching his sweet little mouth as it turns into a wide toothless grin as he recognizes his momma coming to get him. I could play games all day with Gabe - Candy Land, Memory, Old Maid, Go Fish, I Spy, Bingo, the list goes on. We laugh and giggle and make pillow forts on the couch. We make up stories where we are the main characters lost in a foreign land made of candy and fly around on top of clouds and hang out with dragons and friendly monsters. Sammy keeps me company with his goo-ing and ah-ing while I fold the laundry. And sometimes I like to pretend that I am a budding chef cooking for the four toughest food critics in the world and the meal I am preparing will determine the fate of my future (in some cases, this is a reality). My day to day life is a blessing, a gift, an honor, a joy. The endless poopy diapers, spit up on my favorite shirt, countless loads of laundry, crusty dirty dishes from four days ago, and inability to have a personal thought - well, I don't really give those a second thought (probably because the inability to have a personal thought prevents me from doing so, but anyways...). I press on, doing what I love, loving who God has entrusted me with.
And then there is this burning in my heart. Heather, there is more. What do you mean, more??? I am exhausted. I have no time. I have no life outside of the walls of my home!! My boys just had to go to school wearing clothes out of their hamper - how can I fit more into my life right now? I want all of you. Um, I am SPENT. I give ALL of myself to everyone around me!! I wake up to a hungry baby, and then I am getting kids out the door for school. The day starts before I even have time to think about my plans for the day! Remember, Heather. Remember Me. And, like a car driving head first into a brick wall, the revelation hit me.
In the weirdest way possible.
I watched this video clip of a darling celebrity couple - Dax Shepard and Kristen Bell - who made a silly, lip synched music video while on a vacation (you can watch it here). As I watched it, a few things happened. First, the song triggered an instant memory. I listened to Toto's 80's hit Africa while riding across the South African landscape in a bus with some college peers. Springbok lept through the grasslands just outside the bus windows. I remember the moment well - like Joy put it in the Disney Movie Inside Out, we all have core memories that are vital to the development of our personalities. This trip to Africa played an important part in awakening my passion for racial reconciliation in this world, and this particular moment in time bonded me and that beautiful country together for life. The second thing this adorable music video did for me was help me remember. I had Eric watch the video too, and we both laughed... hard. Once upon a time, we were silly with each other. Then life happened. So many grown up moments sobered us up and we forgot one of the things that we used to enjoy so much about each other - our ability to be goofy and uninhibited. We could make each other laugh so hard our stomachs hurt. Eric can NOT dance like anyone else I know, and I love him for it. The watching of this music video inspired us to pull out a video we had a friend make for our wedding. In our video, Eric and I talk about our upbringings, how we met, our proposal, and our dreams and plans for the future. We showed our boys, who laughed at how young we both looked. Eric and I locked eyes over our giggling children a few times, laughing as we recalled fond memories, and exchanging a sweet smile when we both realized we were living out our dreams. We were remembering. Remembering what God called us to do. Remembering the reason we fell in love with each other. Getting glimpses of ourselves 12 years ago and recognizing how much we've grown... and how we've stayed the same.
I think I kind of lost myself for a while. I've been trudging through a winter season of my own, for quite a while now, and I hear God calling me to WAKE THE HECK UP. I can't just go through each day, forgetting the things He made me passionate about. Yes, He absolutely has called me to the joys of motherhood and I love every minute of it - well, maybe I don't LOVE blow out diapers, snotty noses and sassy mouths - but you get the idea. He wants me to do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him (Col 3:17). I know I am fulfilling God's current calling in my life.
I don't believe these passions are a thing of the past. My college class that explored the history of South Africa, racism and reconciliation which led to my journey through that beautiful country thirteen years ago has played a part of equipping me for something... and I might only be starting to understand the magnitude of what that something is. It was inspiring to watch that video of Eric and I, as we sat on a plaid blue couch in his parent's old farmhouse, doe-eyed and optimistic, as we vocalized our big dreams. We haven't strayed from that moment - that sweet, fun night as we laughed during takes and tried to get through our stories without forgetting our punch lines. We are still the same Eric and Heather. Our passions that fueled us back then, still fuel us now. Our dreams have come to life. Our plans have worked themselves out, maybe not in the exact way we thought they would, but better - with a richness and depth that life lessons bring. As I gaze at my precious children, I wonder what will they be passionate about? Missions? Serving others? What will make their hurts burn and push them to fight? Racial inequality? Social injustice? What am I teaching them to care about? What I am showing to them that matters? How do I fuse my passions and my day job as a stay at home momma?
As a parent, I invest a lot into my children. I bring them to children's museums and zoos and Disney World and the beach and play dates and art classes and soccer games and church and private school and many other one of a kind experiences that I hope will enrich their lives and help them discover who they are and what they are good at. I imagine God feels the same way, in the way He has brought me through my life, enriching me, teaching me, and enjoying the moments where He gets to surprise me and I cry with excitement. God has made an investment in me, from the day I was born, and NOTHING - no memory, moment, experience, or lesson - is wasted. He is calling me to remember who I am, because in doing so, it reminds me of who He is.
He is a passionate God. He longs for racial reconciliation among His children. He loves His children, no matter the color of their skin, because He doesn't look at outward appearance, He looks at their heart. He has a heart for those struggling with poverty. He teaches us in His Word that whatever we do for the least of these - the hungry, the thirsty, the needy - we do for Him. He has a heart for missions. His Word tells us that the feet of those who bring good news are very beautiful indeed.
God wants more of me. I think I got caught up in the busyness of day to day living, and forgot about the world around me... and the bigger role I play in it. My prayer today is that the fire in my soul would burn... so bright that it spreads to others like a rapid wildfire, unable to be extinguished or controlled. May this cold, dreary winter fade away into a brilliant summer blooming and bursting with colorful passion.
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