Exactly…

I need you to be ok with me exactly as I am. I’m not going to radically change in the next five minutes, so who I am is who you have to deal with.

This is me: all my faults, past mistakes, recent failures, tears I’ve shed and held back.

This is me: celebrations, dances, joys, cheerful memories, laughs I’ve shared and contained.

This is me.

Do you see me? Do you see my scars? Do you see my healing?

Do you see me limping or skipping? Your perception is based on interpretation anyway.

Do you see how far I’ve grown and how far I have come from that one time we know about? (Or those six times?)

Do you see what I could be? Where I could go? What I could do?

And if you do, are you only going to accept me once I get there—wherever there is—or can we work at accepting each other right now, in this moment?

I’m working at meeting you exactly where you are, right now.

I’m learning to accept you exactly as you are, right now.

I’m living into loving exactly who you are, right now.

I don’t know what the future has in store for us, but if we see each other as we really are, right now, I imagine that our future together will be all the brighter.

We will have hidden less from each other.

I want to hide less from you. But I don’t always know if you would accept me for who I am, who I really am, when the bright lights shine and all our masks are shattered.

I want to be exactly me when I am with you. No pretend, no pretense, no pretension. No make believe, no deception, no grand claims.

Only me. Scars, hopes, and all.

Only you. Scars, hopes, and all.

If we see each other for who we are, exactly as we are right now, we see truth.

I love truth.

 

I wrote this reflection as a response to my thoughts engaged with this poem.

Dispatches During Nap Time: Freedom

I’ve found myself wondering if this is how families felt right before the beginning of our national civil war. Division seems to be inescapable.

I’m waiting for our nation to be the subject of mass sanctions that cut off our supply of cheap clothing (made under unjust systems) and so the government tries to sell us all on thrift shopping, even to the point of stealing the use of Macklemore’s Thrift Shop as propaganda to encourage us to go.

We have gotten to the point that when I wear a pink hat with cat ears, I feel rebellious, and just a little unsafe. Will someone run me and my daughter off the road if I wear it on my walk? How can it be that I feel like I am challenging a community with a pink hat?

For the last three months I’ve woken up wondering what bad news will meet me in the morning, and over the past week, it seems as if our greatest fears have been confirmed.

But see. That’s the crux of it. We are in this current situation because of the mass proliferation of fear. As a nation, we were told we should be afraid, and so using the structure of the current electoral system, this nation elected someone who told us we should be afraid and that he had the answer for our fears.

I’ll give him one thing: he tapped into something and was very persuasive about it.

Because the world does look different. Power is shifting. Freedom is spreading.

But let us not think that freedom is spreading thin. Freedom is not a limited resource. At least, it doesn’t have to be. It is not as if we are spreading freedom thinner and thinner as butter on a piece of bread.

Freedom is the bread itself, rising with the yeast inside it, growing and doubling and tripling in size.

I’ve not talked with enough people in person who do not agree with me. I’ve seen the angry fights on social media, where we are too easily drawn into conclusions without lending dignity to the other.

I want to scream and shout, but shouting is not how to understand someone else.

More people who have done more work with freedom have written better things about liberation than I can. But I wonder if they are hard to hear. I wonder if my words will have a difference when we have been told that the truth and facts are up for debate.

You know, I suppose even I voted based on my fears. I don’t really think I’d considered it before. I knew why the election went the way it did, and I knew that I had a pit in my stomach that only has grown since November 9th, but I never really thought I was voting based on fear.

I woke up that morning with the realization that the nation was not the nation I thought it was. I wonder how many had woken up in the years leading up to November 8th thinking the same thing.

I grieve that we were unable to communicate that freedom does not have to be limited. That freedom is not a resource to be used up, rather it is something that becomes more powerful the more that it expands.

Freedom doesn’t get used up.

We’ve been lied to. Diversity strengthens freedom.

If you are afraid, whether it is because your memories of your childhood are different than what you see today, or because you know that this administration will work to limit your freedom, then know that I am praying for you. I truly am.

And yeah, I don’t want to Jesus Juke this post, but for me, a lot of this is about prayer, and where I need to be praying and marching and standing as we see changes come. I’ve written here about freedom in this nation, but my sole allegiance is to Christ. In the coming months, we are going to see many different people use their faith to say a host of different things that will undoubtedly conflict. We do an incredible job at making our Savior agree exactly with us. That’s called sin. Our goal should be the opposite.

I’m looking for ways that God challenges me and convicts me and creates new spaces in my heart. It can be too easy to pick my favorite bible passage and just use it for the next four years. God’s freedom calls me to something better than that.

God’s freedom invites me to extend welcome and hospitality to people who don’t agree with me, don’t look like me, don’t talk like me, and don’t have the same privilege as me. As a Christian who lives in the United States of America, I’m called to work to extend this radical kind of freedom to everyone, regardless of whether they were born here or believe in the same God as I do.

I have hope that we can be better together. I’m holding on to that hope.

See, I Am Making…

“See, I am making all things new.” Rev 21:5b

“Look! I’m doing a new thing;

now it sprouts up; don’t you recognize it?

I’m making a way in the desert,

paths in the wilderness.” Isa 43:19

It is a new year. New things are happening. My daughter is learning to ask for her favorite food, find her nose and eyes and ears, and tell us she wants more of a game or story or hugs.

Other new things are happening. Things that feel like a wilderness and dry and weary land. New forms of discrimination are being ratified into law, new fears are being made manifest, and new people are being placed into office.

But see, God says, look, I am making all things new. Whether you are drowning in despair or buoyed up by hope.

I am making all things new.

The new year is a time when are given an opportunity to consider if there is anything we want to change about our lives as we proceed through the months. Folks make new years resolutions. We consider our past and who we want to be in the future.

The future is unknown and unseen, ready for our interpretation and formation. We create the future with everyone around us. We choose whether we participate in creating community or division. We choose whether we build up or tear down. We choose whether we love or hate.

I want to create more love. But it is hard. I have a history. I have patterns I’ve already developed. I have hurts and scars and broken places that are tender and sore. It is hard to create more love when bruised.

But I have hope.

I have hope that the hard work is worth the time and effort it takes. I have hope that the people around me want to live in a better world as much as I do. I have hope that the grace I learn to offer to others will allow them to live with more grace in their lives.

I have hope. I know the path is being created. New things are coming.

Promise

Promise is the sister of hope. She is given and creates a home for grace.

We have been given a promise of hope in the form of new life that we can live now. We need to live into it a little bit more each day. The promise extends past those who are consciously awaiting it, the promise shines into the darkness.

The promise that we celebrate this season is the pure embodiment of light eternal. It is a light that shines in the darkness, and the darkness cannot overcome it. The light does not go out.

Tonight is the darkest and longest night of the year. The Solstice comes tomorrow before the sun rises. We have less than ten hours of daylight where I live. And the daylight that I do have is heavily laden with clouds banked against the sunlight. Darkness cloaks the day early and remains far after I arise from bed.

But there is light.

Exciting things are in store.

Family is coming to celebrate, new presents are being purchased, and my favorite day of the year is only 4 days away. I know I’ve written about my favorite day before, but in case you missed it, my favorite day is Christmas Eve, and this year I get to do the whole thing with my closest family, a gift that we haven’t had in five years.

The days are dark and covered with shadows but light and promise peek through, illuminating times of joy and hope.

Five and a half years ago I promised to love and cherish the partner that has walked with me through valleys and over mountaintops. We keep learning from each other, encouraging each other, extending grace to each other. It’s not always simple or easy, but the promise that we made together those 66 months ago have found us a better and stronger team together. Remembering our promise.

Gaps in my Heart

I think I’m missing something. I know there must be a hole or a gap or a vacant spot or a lacunae somewhere, but I don’t know where it is and so I don’t know how to begin looking for it and so I don’t know how to remedy the situation.

I’m pretty sure I’m biased.

I am deeply concerned about this. I’m concerned about my own bias because I am sure that it has been affecting how I think about those who disagree with me. It’s become more than merely thinking that those who think differently than me are wrong. I have gone so far into this thinking that I believe that they are misguided, blinded, ill-informed, dupes in a cosmic parody.

It’s not healthy.

My thinking is not healthy not only because I think I’m right, I have gone so far as to refuse to be in conversation with those who think differently with me. I am creating my own echo-chamber. I am creating a prison for my mind.

And I am missing out on seeing the image of God in others. I am missing out on the full representation of the body of Christ.

I am sinning. My bias is leading me to sin more.

I don’t want to be this way.

Changing my heart will not be easy. I cannot do it on my own. Like I said, there is a gaping hole somewhere and I have yet to identify the location.

I was offended recently by someone and it disturbed me so much that I wept deep into the night. I grieved that I was not able to speak to the offense. But even more deeply, I grieved that I struggle with seeing the offender as created in the image of God.

I lost compassion for them. It scared me. Their actions concerned me, but my reaction to them concerned me even more. If I can be affected like this and think like this, then what hope do I have to learn to be better?

It would be much more easy to return to my blissful ignorance than to work hard to move past my own biases to see the full image of the person in front of me. My love isn’t big enough. My heart isn’t open enough. I need to look through the eyes of Christ in order to love and see deeply enough.