We Cry

I don't know what I should be saying.
But I've been silent for too long.

Nine people dead because they went to a church prayer meeting,
to pray for revival,
to pray for hope and justice.
They welcomed in the stranger
only to have to hide under pews
pretending to be dead
just to stay alive.

I don't know what I should be saying.
Black men and women unable to feel safe
in the streets,
in their backyards,
in their churches.
You are the God of refuge, our fortress
but right now feels like open war.

I don't know what I should be saying.
Black vs. white.
Terrorist vs. mentally unstable.
A country divided against each other,
damaging each other
while blaming the foreigner.

I don't know what I should be saying.
what if I say the wrong thing?
My white hands cover my mouth
to prevent anything hurtful from slipping out.
But my silence speaks louder.

I don't know what I should be saying.
My lips want to cry to the Lord for justice and mercy
but no sound comes out my mouth
It is dry and weak,
afraid the Lord cannot hear

Jesus we cry for justice!
We plead for peace.
We weep for those lost.
Jesus do you hear us?

Do you hear the cries of our hearts?
Do you hear the pleading for safety from violence?
From murder and terror?

God save us! Bring us into your arms
Bring us into refuge and safety.
We are angry, bitter, lost, and hopeless.

My friends I stand with you.
I weep with you.
I grieve with you.
Even if I don't know what I should be saying.
I say this is unfair.
I say this unjust.
I say Lord we need you.

Lord, you are the God who saves us; 
Day and night we cry out to you. 
May our prayer come before you; 
turn your ear to our cry. 

Who Am I: Part 2a (White Privilege: The College Years)

About a month ago, I sat down to write some personal reflections about race and reconciliation. I expected it to be an easy flowing process, but as it turns out I have more fear in sharing about tough topics than I thought. It was also difficult to take almost 9 years of processing about white privilege and white identity and filter than into a readable blog post.

As I looked through old reflections and journals, I found a reflection from a Sociology class I wrote during my sophomore year at Cal Poly, and I feel this sums up some of my experiences of interacting with white privilege as a young college student. Some background:  We did an activity called the Race Race - where our class was asked a series of questions about our lives (if our parents went to college, if we were raised by single parents, if we saw our gender or race represented in the media, etc.) that either allowed us to step forward or step backwards.

Here were my thoughts as a 20 year old college student from that activity and about white privilege as a whole: 

"In the privilege exercise we can see developing patterns of who has what. Many of us with privilege are born into it, not to say we don’t work hard to keep our status, but we were given opportunities to keep ourselves there. Many of us (not all) are white. Many of them at the very front (not all) are men. And some of us as we walk back to the classroom feel a sudden surge of guilt in the pit of our stomachs as we turn around to see some of friends and classmates far behind us. So why is this? The question we are asked is why do we feel guilty for our advantages? 

A lot of this white privilege comes from the communities we live in. Our own history has even widened the gap of available resources to white communities and those living in largely minority or people of color communities. Take for instance The Federal Housing Act of 1934, it had the possibility to bridge the racial gap that had been in existence since the formation of our nation. Millions of citizens were within reach of owning their own home by placing the credit of the federal government behind private lending to home buyers. However the overtly racist categories in the FHA’s “confidential” city surveys and appraisers’ manuals lead to the money being placed in the hands of white homeowners and stripped from communities of color.

And now look at the No Child Left Behind program. Instead of giving money into the schools that truly need it, they allow students to attend the schools that are performing better. Instead of providing opportunities for all in concentrates those in poverty so they all live in the same neighborhood, attend the same schools, and receive less opportunities. Not to say they can’t get to the same place as those wealthier than they, but it is inherently more difficult. It’s no wonder those of us who come from privilege homes feel guilty at times because we can see than there was a lot we did not do to receive that status. Of course we worked hard, just like anyone. But so did they, in fact, those who come from impoverished communities may have worked harder. 

I like how Booker T. Washington put it in his book Up From Slavery: “I have learned that success is to be measured not so much by the position that one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has overcome while trying to succeed... But out of the hard and unusual struggle through which he is compelled to pass, he gets a strength, a confidence, that one misses whose pathway is comparatively smooth by reason of birth and race.” Personally, I’ve received many blessings and opportunities from the life my parents wanted me to have. Here I sit, in a prestigious school earning something only 1 percent of the world can get: a college degree. I need not feel guilty of what I have been given and perhaps I am actually missing out on something when I don’t have to struggle as much to succeed.

But that doesn’t give me the excuse to ignore the needs of those below them. In fact, in order to break this cycle of institutional racism and oppression, it must start from the top. And that is where I think we who have privilege often fail, is we focus so much on personal success that we don’t give thought to our brothers and sisters below us, fighting to survive. And that is maybe why I feel guilty, because I haven’t done my part to help.

One of the big questions I wrestled with as a young college student (and even still to this day) was what to do with my already given privilege and how to feel about having it. It is one of the biggest questions I still often have to wrestle with to this day - especially as I engage with what it means to be both white and middle eastern but someone who looks white - I still "get" all the privilege that comes with being white in America. And it's easy to deny having it (or that white privilege exists) or to feel overwhelming guilty about it.

Neither is truly helpful, neither is truly beneficial. We don't determine our privilege when we are born but we can chose what we do with it. Learning how to engage with this is a circular process. Some days I chose well - I listen to others, I find great ways to steward my privilege, and I stay engaged with the struggles of my friends and neighbors. Some days I chose poorly and I check out, I speak too much (or not enough), and I live in fear or shame. Next week (or maybe month), I'll reflect on how to live out a life of stewarding white privilege well.

Note - for those not having interacted with the term "white privilege" before, I encourage you to read the articles listed below. They give a great description of what this looks like, how this influences our society, and even what to do with it: 

• White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Backpack 
• 5 Stages of White Privilege Awareness
• This is White Privilege 
• Race: the Power of an Illusion 

Ink'd Again

Over Christmas I decided to get my second tattoo. I already received one that was I was thrilled with and they aren't lying when they say it becomes addicting.

This one is a finch who represents Atticus Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird. (It's placed on my left shoulder). TKAMB is one of my all time favorite books because of its power in storytelling and its relevance even today. Atticus Finch to me is a literary hero who stands up for justice and what is right no matter the cost and no matter if knows he's going to lose. He reminds me we too must often do just that.

"Courage is not a man with a gun in his hand. It's knowing you're licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do." 

This serves as a reminder to me that courage not giving up, that standing up for justice is always important, even when we do lose. After all, Jesus stood against injustice and his accusers murdered him on a cross.

And this reminder hurt significantly more than the first one that's for sure.

A Great Light

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned. You have enlarged the nation and increased their joy; they rejoice before as people rejoice at the harvest, as warriors rejoice when dividing their plunder. For as in the day of Midian's defeat, you have shattered the yoke that burdens them, the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor. Every warrior's boot used in battle and every garment rolled blood will be destined for burning, will be fuel for the fire. For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the greatness of his government and pace there will be no end. He will reign on David's throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever. The zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this. 

Isaiah 9:2-7

When Jesus entered the world over 2,000 years ago, he entered a world covered in great darkness. Israel was harshly oppressed by the Romans and God had been silent for almost 400 years (between Old Testament and New). Women were treated poorly, those who were not Jewish were barely allowed to worship in the temple, and as the Romans oppressed Israel, Israel oppressed others - the poor, the sick, the possessed, and the hurt. 

We also live in a world of great need. A world that feels still covered in darkness. The race tensions in America are at a high, with young black men being killed at an alarming rate, with women still out of reach for true equality, with injustice imbedded within our government systems and in our hearts. We too are living in a land of darkness, one we may not be able to recognize. We are again in a time in desperate need of Jesus. 

We need a Wonderful Counselor. We've made some really bad decisions as humanity, as a country, and as individuals. We've let a lot of bad theology, ideologies, and the like get into our minds and hearts. What was supposed to be "love God and love your neighbor" has been replaced with "look out for my own". We need Jesus' wise counsel to flood our minds once again. To have the wisdom to truly understand Jesus' commands in scripture and to live them out fully. 

We need a Mighty God. There are a lot of crappy things happening in our world today. Powerful and overwhelming systemic injustice feels impossible for the single person to change. We need a mighty supernatural God to bring waves of change in places we had not imagined possible. We need justice in the places were there isn't. We need Jesus to bring about reconciliation and restoration. We need to admit our own faults and shortcomings and look to Jesus. 

We need an Everlasting Father. Many of us have had poor father figures, and all the more leads to a distrust of those in positions of authority. We've seen fathers and those in authority abuse, neglect, torment, abandon, and betray us. But Jesus promises an Everlasting Father. One who will never leave, who will never neglect, who does not torment or abuse. We need redemption and a true Father. 

We need a Prince of Peace. It's not hard to look around us and see chaos. With young black men being killed on what feels like a daily basis, with terrorism, with power abuse, with human trafficking, with drug use and abuse, and even natural disasters that we have no control over, our world sometimes feels too chaotic to handle. Jesus promises peace and comfort. Not just for eternity but for the here and now. 

When Jesus was an adult and began his ministry he said the Kingdom of God is at hand. Repent and believe. The Kingdom of God - this kingdom of restoration, of peace, of justice, is not just one for heaven. It's one for the here and now. It's for our present and for our future. We must still repent of our sins - both individual and communal and believe in our deep need for Jesus.

I want to have the answers of how that will happen. To solve the problems I see on my newsfeed every day. I want to use the privilege I have to make a difference. When we admit of our desperate need for Jesus, we see things in the light. We no longer live in the darkness of bitterness, of hatred, and of chaos. So Jesus come, bring your wonderful counsel, your might, your fatherly love, and your peace into your hearts so our world may turn more towards your light.

Freedom

"As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn't leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I'd still be in prison." - Nelson Mandela.

Wise words my friend. Thank you for your example, your life, your passion, and your wisdom. We are grateful.

May I Listen?

I have been trying for the past week to write something about the Trayvon Martin/George Zimmerman trial verdict. I have been unable to come up with my own reflections because at the moment, I'm surrounded by the emotion. I wrote this because I realized that my silence, while it was as a way to not offend while emotions were raw, could be perceived as not caring. So I wrote this poem. I hope to find the words for future reflections. In the mean time, this was my favorite article about what to take from the verdict. 

I find I have trouble coming up with the right words to say
To express my anger, my frustration, my confusion, and overwhelming sense of fear
I am afraid to say so many wrong things
That what I say will just add to the ever growing list of your own frustrations, confusion, and overwhelming sense of hopeless
So I remain silent.
To you I am sorry that my silence conveyed apathy.
I assure you I do not feel apathetic.
This is a big deal.

My heart has been beating for you - pounding in my heart,
Wanting to jump out of my chest and embrace you
To give you loving arms to hold
Or shoulders to cry upon

My mind has been racing for you - swirling, whirling, and preventing sleep.
Wondering how we got here
Planing and planning what to do next
How to fix it, if it can be fixed
What to say, when to say it, and how

My soul has been grieving for you - hurting, bleeding, crying out for our rescue
Crying out to our God for peace
For justice, for mercy upon our souls
Crying out to a God who loves us
Who hears us when we call
Who gives us a new song in our mouths and sets our feet upon the rock.

I find I have trouble coming up with the right words to say
So instead of my speaking right now may I just listen?
Can I hear your stories, your pain, your hurt that others too often ignore.
Can I hear your reality, the one so different from my own
Will you bring me into your life?
I know it is a risk, to open yourself to up to yet another person who claims to care
I know you may feel afraid to be hurt, to be wounded, to be misunderstood
I fear the same so I remained quiet.
That may have hurt you and I am deeply sorry.

But will you tell me your stories? Will you share your life?
Because I am here to listen.

Mountains and Valleys

Disclaimer: What I'm about to write goes into a painful moment I had along my first year of staff journey. There are many moments along this journey that have been difficult and I have chosen to write about one of the particular places of hardship for me. Know that as I write this, I write this from a place of gratitude and healing - that while this part of the journey was far from easy, there is much that I see about who Jesus is, who he cares for, and what he cares for. It is in these moments of pain that I get to experience a piece of the pain that others have been feeling long before me and I gain truer sense of the gospel. I see a clearer picture of who Jesus cares about and how deeply he loves his people on the outside and longs to bring them in. As you read this, also know that I tend to write my emotions intensely (being a feeler and an English nerd), but know that I am, for lack of a better term, "fine" and in a process of restoration and healing from some past experiences. If you want to read my reflections about a hopeful perspective in ministry click here. 

About a month ago my best friend, Sol, came to visit me in Northridge (she now lives in Fresno). We met three years ago at the FUI (Fresno Urban Internship) summer project and bonded because we were in a very similar state in our lives. We had both experienced serious rejection and were both in need of major healing. If we had not met that summer, I'm not sure we would be as close as we are now. For while we are very similar we also have striking differences. We both love food and traveling, love Portland and Seattle, love watching Friends, love listening to music, and spending time in silence together. We feel emotions deeply, love being around people, hearing the stories of the people around us, and seeing things for what they are.

But we have many differences. Sol is Mexican, I am European. She was raised in a single mother home while I was raised in a split parent home. She grew up in poverty and I grew up in middle-class. She went to public school, I went to private Christian school. There has always been a gap between us in the way we were raised, and while my privileged gap may not be mountains higher than hers, it is wide enough to clearly see the difference, to see we essentially grew up on the "opposite sided of the tracks."

I say this to set up the scene to which I entered. One of the great things about my friendship with Sol is our ability to speak freely about the difficult topics such as race, ethnicity, poverty, personal brokenness, family, etc. We work hard to try to understand or at least hear out where the other comes from. We work hard to listen to each other's stories and see the pain of a life we don't fully understand. No matter how hard we try, until we experience it for ourselves, we will never fully understand each other's stories. But we still listen. I will never fully understand what it is like to live is a marginalized minority and it is almost impossible to "displace" myself (intentionally place myself into positions of being a minority) in a way that allows me to truly understand what it is like to live out that life rather than just experience it for a short a time.

But as we discussed my staff experiences that weekend, we realized that I had been having my own marginalized experiences. Small and focused - I was getting new insight into a displacement and as weird as it will sound, I would end up being truly grateful for. As I describe my experiences and my emotions, know that I am grateful for the results and greater understanding it would soon bring.

For the past year I have been on InterVarsity staff at Cal State Northridge. I love InterVarsity and the vision they have for college students and seeing transformation on and beyond the campus. But like any organization, para-church, or non-profit, it has its weaknesses (it has to if it is an organization comprised by humans, who all have weaknesses). One of the hardships this year has been being by myself on campus and not having many of the typical structures many campus staff do. I feel marginalized because I am a solo staff at a campus far away from others. My supervisor lives 60 miles away (which is a short distance in comparison with other regions, where supervisors live 2-3 hours away). But it still feels lonely, isolating, and frustrating.

There are a lot of things that are not fair about my situation and there are injustices too. I have spent a great part of the year wrestling with the line between unfair and unjust, determining where I selfishly desire to make situation easier (unfair) and where in my staff situation that is not right (unjust). I have wrestled with being alone, with no staff team all year while I watch other schools receive many staff. I watch others bond with their teams and team leaders. I see the pictures on social media, of teams bonding together, and I will admit it, jealously long for that to be me. As I see what many others have and I do not, I wrestle with the impending green monster of jealousy, rearing its ugly head as I try to plan things on my own. I have battled with the duality of feeling "complimented" because I must be able to lead a team on my own and feeling "exiled" in a place no one wants to go to so to join me in mission. I have spent the year wrestling with my own insecurities, frustrations, and anger. In the midst of that I have had many people tell me in some way to "get over it." Most, truly, do so encouragingly which I am grateful for - reminding me of who I am, who Jesus is, and that I am not forgotten. But some speak harsher, sending ripples and waves of a past pain through my heart. With words such as "move on" or "I don't see what why you this is still bothering you" remind me of times I was told to move on before I was ready and send through my chest a fear that no one wants to understand my story.

In the midst of all of this, I could feel the frustration growing inside me. The isolation felt overwhelming and it just plain hurt to watch others bond as staff teams that I did not have. I felt left out. I felt I was powerless, like there was nothing to be done about my situation for who would listen to an intern? Would I just then receive a lot of wordy explanations of why there was no other staff to join me? Would I be blown off and told I did not know how things worked? If I expressed any of this would I even been seen or heard? I could not always see that people were, in truth, advocating on my behalf because in this moment I was wrapped in the intensity of the unfairness.

As I express these feelings and raw emotions to my friend, Sol (through her own tears) tells me this is as close to a minority experience I may ever have. The feeling of a crippling powerlessness, the building frustration toward people when they do not see how hard things are for you, the painful phrases of "just get over it"; "why are you so frustrated"; just push through" range from mildly annoying to hurtful to soul damaging. To feel like people don't see you clearly because the painful experience you are trying to explain to them is something they've never lived and they just don't get it.

As I expressed my hurt and my fears, Sol validated two things: 1. That no matter how frustrated I felt, the GLA division had my back. They supported me and wanted me to succeed. They cared about me deeply but the truth was - I was just not feeling that at the moment. 2. This is a small glimpse of what minority students feel their whole lives.

My heart then broke all over again for the painful experiences of my minority brothers and sisters throughout our country. My heart grieved for the damage caused to generations of people whose experiences are still so greatly misunderstood. How could I possible conceive the life my best friend has to live, unable to opt out of thinking about poverty and race and money and culture while I get all the chances to just because I'm white? I have so many privileges I too often take for granted just because I was raised in a higher tax bracket, because my skin is lighter, because my heritage comes from Western Europe.

I don't know if this experience is what Jesus had in mind when he sent me to CSUN. I don't know if it was his plan to send me as staff by myself so that I might wrestle through these questions, so that I might have my own experience where I am unable to "opt out" because it surrounds me every day. I do know it is not a coincidence I am feeling all of this. While being on staff, by myself, in a situation unlike many others, I have seen so much of who Jesus is and his love for the people on the outside and the margins. In fact that is who Jesus sought out first, those who were were on the margins of society and he brought them into his kingdom with an open embrace. It is this that makes me love Jesus all the more. If nothing changes about my staff situation, then so be it, but I cannot let this experience pass me by without changing how I see people, without letting it influence how I do ministry and who we include in our ministry. If want to follow Jesus and model the IV ministry after his, then I must seek out those on the outside, the marginalized, those living in the valleys and not just the mountains.

Urbana 12

Every three years, InterVarsity USA and Inter-Varsity Canada put on a mission conference known as Urbana. I attended in 2009 and was privileged to attend Urbana 12 this year. There are so many things to be said about the conference, and I'm sure I will be reflecting on them more as the month rolls on but here are my top highlights.

- Hearing a talk given in Spanish
- Being challenged and grown in unexpected ways
- Hearing an African man be the first to give the primary scripture exposition for the conference




- Worshiping in 4 different languages at once
- Singing in Hindi for the first time
- Watching a Chinese student light up when we sang in Mandarin
- Seeing my students sing in new languages




- Seeing over 200 people make heart commitments for Jesus (98 of them for the first time)
- Seeing my students wrestle with hard questions and make radical commitments for God's global mission
- Watching 7 CSUN students commitment to long term cross-cultural and global mission



- Students joining-in and making 32,000 AIDS caregiver kits instead of a hearing a speaker
- Having 15 CSUN students attend the conference (that is 25% of our fellowship)
- Re-uniting with old friends and making new ones

Ringing in the new year with 16,000 of my brothers and sisters 

*pictures from urbana.org

Who God Loves

"I appeared to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob as God Almighty, buy my name the LORD I did not make myself fully known to them. I also established my covenant with them to give them the land of Canaan, where they resided as foreigners. Moreover I have heard the groaning of the Israelites, whom the Egyptians are enslaving, and I have remembered my covenant." - Exodus 6:3-5

God loves the widowed, the orphan, the lost, the oppressed, the foreigner, the slave, the broken, the wounded, and any of those our world is quick to cast aside.

Are we, as followers of Christ loving those that the world has cast aside? Or are we quick to judge and protect our own selves.

"And calling the crowd to him with his disciples, he said to them, 'If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, buy whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel's will save it. For what does it profit a man to gain the whole told and forfeit his soul? For what can a man give in return for his soul?" - Mark 8-34-36

These are tough questions that I am wrestling with. 

Keep that in mind as you watch the this video: Why Honors Students Across the Country Are Being Thrown in Jail. 

Success and Failure

Let me preface this blog post by saying I am not writing all this about success and failure because I have it all figured out. It is a process that I am working through. I will still be working through for a long time. The scars and wounds I have from this past year (since August) are still fresh, beginning slowly to heal. And thinking about this helps.

The book, Theirs is the Kingdom by Robert Lupton, is a fantastic book about Lupton's move to inner-city Atlanta. In this series of vignettes (short stories), Lupton has family share how the city and its people taught them much about love, Jesus, service, poverty, and riches. I was skimming through the book the other day when I came across this story about a mission venture, which ultimately failed miserably.

"What went wrong? Why did we so miserably fail when our motives, our mission, our plans were all of high quality? Did we not listen carefully enough to God's Spirit?"

I used this quote almost two years go in a while sending summer updates from my mission trip in Fresno. At the time I was feeling like mission trips were a success or a failure, never realizing life, well the missional Christian life, cannot be categorized into such black and white boxes. But when I re-read the update, and put it into the context of my current life, I was nearly moved to tears.

Back in February I had to quit my job as a middle school teacher. I entered the profession with high quality motives, desires, missions, and plans but it was not enough to carry me through to the end of the year. Long before February, I felt I had miserably failed at my job. There were many complicated reasons for my departure that I will not say publicly over the internet. I was treated wrongly and neglected, I felt insure and made mistakes, I faced failure head on when I quit, feeling somehow I had disobeyed God and that is why the year turned out so poor.

I wondered what I had done to displease God so much. I wondered if I misheard God's call. But everything came so easy when moving to San Bernardino. Within a month I had a full time job, an inexpensive apartment close to my school, two amazing roommates, and all without hassle or stress. Wasn't all of this a sign to move forward? But then what happened in between? Was I not a good enough teacher? Was I not trained well? Was I not passionate enough? And why, with all my good motives and heart, why did God let this happen to me?

Behind all of my questioning was the subtle heresy that "God will prosper any endeavor that is done according to this will. The corollary its that whatever fails was somehow done contrary to His intentions. The error in this assumption is perfect communion with God assures flawless performance of his will." Ha! I have to laugh a little bit because this is ridiculous to think I will ever have perfect communion with God while still a sinful human. Neither perfect communion nor flawless performance is possible for us human beings.

Success, ministry success that is, I have learned, has little to do with the performance of God's will. Sometimes the best of intentions and motives goes terribly wrong and the plan or project doesn't work the way intended. Sometimes poor motives and selfish desires turns into an amazing chance for God to reveal his true grace and power. Sometimes we fail because of our sin, shortsightedness, or stupidity and we must learn from those mistakes. Sometimes we fail because of someone else's failure or sin and must learn how to give grace. Sometimes there is no one to blame, there was too much or too little rain and in these cases, there is no corrective lesson to be learned.

Success is not an automatic consequence of obedience. In Proverbs it says,  “A righteous man falls seven times and rises again” (24:16). Even Noah, who obeyed God's call to build an ark, had to to live for 140 days in a box of pooping animals. God never told Noah when the rain would stop, only that it would. Noah had no idea if would be in the ark for 10 days, 50 days, 140 days, or years and years. Failure is not an automatic consequence of disobedience. Many of the 12 disciples basically failed out of Jewish school, they were not good enough to be chosen to follow a rabbi before Jesus came. It wasn't because they weren't disobedient, God had other plans for them.

We have a dependable God who made a trustworthy commitment that no matter what happens - success or failure - he will use it for our ultimate good and the Kingdom's ultimate good. And while my year was a terrible one, one I would deem a total failure, I know in God's eyes, there is good. God sees me for who I am, not as a failed teacher, not as a mistake, but as a loved (albeit wounded) daughter. And that, brings me hope that I was obedient in his call.Let me preface this blog post by saying I am not writing all this about success and failure because I have it all figured out. It is a process that I am working through. I will still be working through for a long time. The scars and wounds I have from this past year (since August) are still fresh, beginning slowly to heal. And thinking about this helps.

The book, Theirs is the Kingdom by Robert Lupton, is a fantastic book about Lupton's move to inner-city Atlanta. In this series of vignettes (short stories), Lupton has family share how the city and its people taught them much about love, Jesus, service, poverty, and riches. I was skimming through the book the other day when I came across this story about a mission venture, which ultimately failed miserably.

"What went wrong? Why did we so miserably fail when our motives, our mission, our plans were all of high quality? Did we not listen carefully enough to God's Spirit?"

I used this quote almost two years go in a while sending summer updates from my mission trip in Fresno. At the time I was feeling like mission trips were a success or a failure, never realizing life, well the missional Christian life, cannot be categorized into such black and white boxes. But when I re-read the update, and put it into the context of my current life, I was nearly moved to tears.

Back in February I had to quit my job as a middle school teacher. I entered the profession with high quality motives, desires, missions, and plans but it was not enough to carry me through to the end of the year. Long before February, I felt I had miserably failed at my job. There were many complicated reasons for my departure that I will not say publicly over the internet. I was treated wrongly and neglected, I felt insure and made mistakes, I faced failure head on when I quit, feeling somehow I had disobeyed God and that is why the year turned out so poor.

I wondered what I had done to displease God so much. I wondered if I misheard God's call. But everything came so easy when moving to San Bernardino. Within a month I had a full time job, an inexpensive apartment close to my school, two amazing roommates, and all without hassle or stress. Wasn't all of this a sign to move forward? But then what happened in between? Was I not a good enough teacher? Was I not trained well? Was I not passionate enough? And why, with all my good motives and heart, why did God let this happen to me?

Behind all of my questioning was the subtle heresy that "God will prosper any endeavor that is done according to this will. The corollary its that whatever fails was somehow done contrary to His intentions. The error in this assumption is perfect communion with God assures flawless performance of his will." Ha! I have to laugh a little bit because this is ridiculous to think I will ever have perfect communion with God while still a sinful human. Neither perfect communion nor flawless performance is possible for us human beings.

Success, ministry success that is, I have learned, has little to do with the performance of God's will. Sometimes the best of intentions and motives goes terribly wrong and the plan or project doesn't work the way intended. Sometimes poor motives and selfish desires turns into an amazing chance for God to reveal his true grace and power. Sometimes we fail because of our sin, shortsightedness, or stupidity and we must learn from those mistakes. Sometimes we fail because of someone else's failure or sin and must learn how to give grace. Sometimes there is no one to blame, there was too much or too little rain and in these cases, there is no corrective lesson to be learned.

Success is not an automatic consequence of obedience. In Proverbs it says,  “A righteous man falls seven times and rises again” (24:16). Even Noah, who obeyed God's call to build an ark, had to to live for 140 days in a box of pooping animals. God never told Noah when the rain would stop, only that it would. Noah had no idea if would be in the ark for 10 days, 50 days, 140 days, or years and years. Failure is not an automatic consequence of disobedience. Many of the 12 disciples basically failed out of Jewish school, they were not good enough to be chosen to follow a rabbi before Jesus came. It wasn't because they weren't disobedient, God had other plans for them.

We have a dependable God who made a trustworthy commitment that no matter what happens - success or failure - he will use it for our ultimate good and the Kingdom's ultimate good. And while my year was a terrible one, one I would deem a total failure, I know in God's eyes, there is good. God sees me for who I am, not as a failed teacher, not as a mistake, but as a loved (albeit wounded) daughter. And that, brings me hope that I was obedient in his call.

The Hunger Games

Unless you've been living underneath a rock, you've heard of Suzanne Collins's book, The Hunger Games. Currently my Jr. High small group girls are obsessed with it. I have to say, to start out with, that I really love these books since I first read The Hunger Games almost a year ago. I am excited to see it come to a movie but more than that, I look forward to the discussions that can come from this book. Questions about oppression, injustice, and survival in our own world.

While I am excited to see my small group girls so engaged in a book rather than some reality TV show MTV has put out (not that I haven't watched a few of those myself) I am not sure they totally understand the depth of the book. Many of them are much more invested in the romance, making camps of Team Gale or Team Peeta. But honestly, those books are not about the romance. According to Collins's herself the books themes are much deeper than romance. The book "tackles issues such as severe poverty, starvation, oppression, and the affects of war among others." The books itself are not about a girl choosing between two guys (as you may see in Twilight) and isn't the battle of good vs. evil (for example as in, say, Harry Potter) but about how do we wrestle with injustice in our own world? Do we sit back and pretend it doesn't happen like they do in the capital? Do we just try to survive on our wits and knowledge like Katniss and Gale in the first book or do we step out and fight against oppression?

Collins hopes that readers walk away from the books asking how "elements of the book might be relevant in their own lives. And, if they're disturbing, what they might do about them." I appreciate The Hunger Games books, not because they are full of action, violence, or romance but because they allow us to see injustice and oppression in an imaginary world and that should lead us to reflect where do we see those things in society. I think as Christians we should take advantage of this extremely popular book as a transition into asking our churches and fellowships where do we see injustice and what can be done about it? 

A Call to Action

Sometimes it is just not enough to talk about things. We like to do that in our culture. We like to talk, theorize, conclude, write papers, do research, and sit in the comfort of our desk chairs and coffee shops debating things. We like to talk about how serious urban poverty it, how wretched sex trafficking is, how frustrating our economy has become, or whatever else we can think of. It is good to process and think through these issues to let them seep into our minds and brains and let them effect our souls. But then at some point, if we really care about the issue we have to get off our ass and do something. Not with every issue or problem ever in the world, but the ones we care about. I don't want to say that you have to go rush off to Africa to feed the orphans or even feel guilty for not doing so. But if all I ever did was talk about the stuff we care about - I have to ask myself, how much do I really care?

Here is a chance to do something simple - like sign your name. Which is all you have to do - sign your name to a petition combat sex trafficking in brothels posing as massage parlors in Fresno, CA. Yes Fresno - not India or East Asia or Africa or some foreign country with an unpronounceable name but a major city in California. I don't wan t

What have you got to lose by singing it anyway? Just something to keep thinking about while you drink that cup of coffee at your desk table.

Human Trafficking Petition

God of This City

I was first introduced to the idea of citywide poverty when I went to Fresno in 2007. There I saw how people could live their lives in hopelessness of never breaking out of this dangerous cycle. They lived lives of brokenness and emptiness. But within the city there was hope. There was awareness. There were people who lived there who cared about the people, about their problems, about their issues, and fought hard to do something about it. Fresno has changed because of the people who invested their time, their money, and their lives into the well being of a city.

Now I think it is time to do the same for San Bernardino. Much like Fresno, San Bernardino is largely ignored by people in the state. Few know where this city is, who lives here, and that there is even a college here. But there are thousands that call this place their home, if even their last remaining hope. Housing is cheap here, cheaper than a lot of other places. So people with no where else to go because rent is too high and no job anyway, come to San Bernardino to find this cheap housing. But they are disappointed when they too cannot find a job and are living paycheck to paycheck.

San Bernardino is the poorest city in the state of California, the second poorest in the nation. In an article published by The Sun they said, "34.6 of the city’s residents live below the poverty level, ranking it first in the state’s among those with a population of 200,000 or more and second nationally behind Detroit, according to findings by the U.S. Census Bureau." The study was done in 2010.

Yes the city was hit hard by the recession, but wasn’t everywhere else? Things took a turn for the worse all the way back in 1994 when the Norton Air Force Based closed. More than 10,000 military and civilian workers lost their jobs. Neighborhoods were abandoned and since then San Bernardino’s economy has been spiraling downward. The poverty level only increase as more big-time companies packed up and left. Most of the jobs that the companies provided required little education and few skills. But when they packed up their bags, they left behind a community with little education and poor job skills.

In the article, the director of the Mayor’s Office of Community Safety and Violence Prevention, Kent Paxton, calls for the churches and non-profit organizations to step up and partner with the city. But like everyone one else in this town, the churches are feeling the financial hardship as well. The article states that "Mike Mathias, an associate pastor at Victory Outreach San Bernardino, said one of the most common prayer requests from people at the church is that they would find a job."

Of the 5 California cities with the largest percentage in poverty, San Bernardino is the smallest city. I think that makes it easily forgotten. Fresno (30.2% living in poverty) has almost twice the population, and Los Angeles (21.6%) has almost 18 times the population. While there are more people living in poverty in this other cities, it breaks my heart to see that the city of San Bernardino to be so high in poverty. It is surrounded by beautiful mountains and so close to very rich neighborhoods. But here it lies, close to decay and ruins, with hopelessness running high. You can almost breathe the hopelessness in. And it’s with this that I get angry at the injustice of the city's poverty. It is because the big business moved that there are no jobs. And the way our country is going, you need more and more education to get a good job. The people here don't have that. So what hope is left?

I am one of the few who have a job here. I am of the rare case who moved here to this city because I have a job. I live here in this place of poverty and while I live in what many may consider the "better" part of town, the poverty nevertheless still affects everyone around me. I buy my groceries from the one grocery store that is fortune close to my house. I see the large amount of fast food restaurants here because there is no money base for nicer places to eat. I see the run down roads and hear the sirens that my neighbors hear. And I am one of the fortunate ones to have a job. I came here only because I have a job and that is rare. I am clearly in the minority of the working class.

I don’t know what to do. There is so much I don't know about this place. I know more about Fresno and LA than I do about San Bernardino. This town is just coming into my own life having lived only for a few months. I always knew it was here but I just had no idea the desperation that runs through the streets in this city. It is hard to be here and not know what to do. I am the "fix it" type of person. But where do I start.

So I am asking you to join me in praying for this city. I have seen the amazing power and wonder that the body of Christ can do for a city in need. Look at Fresno – God called people to move to that city and invest their lives in its governments, in its schools, in its business, and in its people. I am asking that you pray for this city, that God will send people to move here. That God will send a Christina fellowship to be a major presence at Cal State San Bernardino’s campus because that is lacking. That God will raise a community of relocators to come here, to this city.That we would see the change that we are seeing in Fresno, here. Because that is all that I can think of to do right now, is to pray.

Voice

Yesterday at Large Group the Invisible Children group came to show a video and make a presentation. I had seen what Invisible Children has done, I have bought some dvd's, bough some t-shirts. Made some donations. I have never been called to go to a foreign country in that way so I never felt convicted by their message.

Until last night.

Don't freak out, I'm not going to Uganda. I'm not going to the Congo. I wasn't convicted that I need to even work with Invisible Children at all. It was a different kind of conviction. But in order to understand it, I need to explain some things about what Invisible Children is doing this year. They are doing a new global even this year called 25. It stands for the 25 years that Joseph Kony and the Lord's Resistance Army (LRA) have caused violence, death, and unrest in Northern Uganda and the surrounding countries. This year, participants are going to be silent for 25 years - one hour for every year of Joseph Kony's reign of terror.

What got me thinking was who was I not speaking up for? I love what Invisible Children is doing - I am going to participate in their event this year (and if you want to donate, look at my donation profile page. I'll be making a whole other blog post specifically describing it). But who are the voices that I have let stay silent. Who are the invisible children here, in the United States, that I have neglected to see. This hit me hard because as I watched the Tony video, all I could see where the faces of my own students as night commuters, child soldiers, kids without families, without hope. The fire began to burn again, the one that had been put out because of waking up early, completing PACT, trying to find jobs, making a living, etc. The fire for justice in the education system here in America.

This video helped me see that it is not enough to just show up and teach students. That being a voice for them is more than just showing up to classroom. I don't know exactly how to do that - how to specifically advocate for students who are in poverty, who are being abused at home, who don't have clothes, school supplies, who look to gangs for safety and community, who drop out, get pregnant, or just don't care. Who listens to these kids?

So on April 25th, during the Invisible Children silence campaign, I will be silent for my future students. For those who do not have a voice or do not feel they have a voice. And hopefully Jesus will change my perceptions and give me new inspiration for my future in teaching and education.