A New Chapter

“Steven, God is only bad if the pain doesn’t have purpose.”

            This statement echoed in my head as I sat in the office of a professor who walked with me for the past four years of my life. Her soft-spoken voice telling of how proud she is of my accomplishments draws tears to my eyes as I ready myself for goodbye.

            The pains of my life have found their purpose by where I’m heading. Slow motion defines how my days have been playing out as the next chapter nears. I've learned so much about what it means to be human, what it means to love people, fear God, and stand up for what I believe in. I no longer wonder who I am, because sometime ago, I found myself here. Forced to grapple with my pain and anger, in my resentment for God and life, I wrestled. As many of my friends and professors had come to define me as Jacob, the one who wrestles with God; of course, God won the battle of my definition within time.

            The material items within my life, all up for sale. Heading for the unknown, a 9/6-foot room in a rough area of New York. I’m giving up a life I once thought I wanted, for the one that my spirit actually needs. Simplicity with a goal of fighting for justice; to answer the call of those who don’t have voices of their own. What qualifies me for such a duty? Because I was once that individual, voiceless, unable to stand for myself, watching as individuals ruthlessly fought for my existence and freedom. I was once the person drowning in pain, but saved by individuals who pulled me out, enlightening me to my worth, and sending me on the road to life once more.

            This will be one of the greatest challenges of my existence; taking God hand in hand, walking into a future without someone physically by my side. I’m confronting my largest fears of being alone, to being uncomfortable, but somehow I have peace. This is the life I want to live: gritty, uncomfortable, vulnerable, bittersweet, and simple.

            Now more than ever, I will acknowledge the friends, family, and strangers who read this blog. I need your support more now than ever before, so if you’re reading this, if you pray, send good vibes, or just believe in encouragement, I publicly ask for a moment of your time, to think of me.

The Sun is Rising

"because it's one thing to wonder if someone else's freedom is worth fighting for, but what if that freedom was yours?" 

A Homeless Man

 

    I pass a homeless man on the street every morning on my way to work; an elderly gentleman who is on the street when I leave early, and still present as come home late. He holds his magazines close to himself as he humbly waits to make a sale. Months have passed as my hardened heart allowed me to ignore this man, shrug him off as just another beggar who really didn’t need my help, nor my money. Fall, winter, spring, summer, and returning to fall, that same man stood a few blocks from my apartment. Day by day I walked passed him, ignoring him…

     I found myself trying to avoid him. He never asked for anything, he never said anything, he simply stood on the side of the street with a smile, waiting. My heart slowly began to break for the man standing on the city street. I started to notice him. I started to notice the long hours he stands, in snow, in rain, in heat, in the freezing cold. He never uttered a word, never seen without a smile, never outwardly appearing ungrateful.

     As I walked past him today, as I saw him with my dark sunglasses, freshly washed clothing, well rested from my warm, clean, apartment, my heart broke into a thousand pieces as I entered the train station. I turned around, I began to sob at my own hardened heart, and I walked back to him. I pulled out some money, I bought a magazine with tears visibly falling from my face, and that man held out his hand and put it to my shoulder, “thank you, son.”  

They’re people too. 

Things Learned

Today I sat in a room of people much older than myself, from many backgrounds, from many walks of life, but all there for the same purpose. Today, I was interviewed by a top school of social work. As we went around the table, answering questions, asking questions, telling the little truths of our lives… something struck me...

We weren’t at this table because of the academic rigours of our undergraduate programs, nor how many stars we had on our resumes. We weren’t there because our names meant anything, nor for any material reason. We had been placed in these chairs, brought to this point, because of our life stories, and even more pointed, because of our pain.

As each person spoke, the undertones of their life struggles surfaced, empathy flowed from these people not because of something someone taught then, but because they have experience with what it means to overcome. To be broken and rise again is to know the pain of others.

Today I was one of those people. I reflected back on the pains of my yesterday, my life story that landed me in this seat. I can look backward from this instant; I can see my pain, my struggles, my fights for life, each so clear from this place and in this moment. As I wipe tears from my face I can say that I don’t wish for someone else’s life, I don’t wish for someone else to carry my pain, because through my pain I’ve learned how to listen and care for others.

Today, every voice who ever told me that I couldn’t was silenced.   

Today, God showed me who I am, and for the first time in a long time, I believed him.

Today, I am beautifully broken, but I am full of hope.

The Sun is Rising

My Skin is White

“I hate white people.”

            It was that simple statement coming out of the mouth of a person that I consider a good friend that rocked my entire world. “Treat others the way you want to be treated.” “Treat other races as if they’re white.” These are the statements I was taught as a child. Those statements are healing, full of life and breath, acceptance and understanding… right? or have we been incredibly mislead? Have we missed the true cause of the great black white divide that continues to this very day?

            It was a few years ago when I had my great hate. I despised my white self. I loathed myself for what systematically happens to the kids I work with, just because of their skin color. It wasn’t until I recognized my skin color, and what white means that I was able to formulate how race impacts people.

             I have my own culture; I have privilege out of my own skin color. I have a more tangible right to liberty, safety, justice, education, and income security. If life is a race, the day I was born, I was already winning; I was sprinting past these students who surround me as 7^th graders. I was running past their whole families, but yet I was only a few days old.

So what do we do, Steven?

How do we even address the problem of race when we thought the problem was solved? 

This is what I’ve come to know.

1.         Being white, means you are white, and your culture is white, and you talk white, and you live white, SO ACT WHITE! Don’t walk into other cultures and try to be them. They will respect you for who you are, if you act yourself. No one likes an impostor.

2.         Stop saying that people should get over the racial divides of the past, or slavery, or any other injustice. Just because past injustice isn’t our reality today, doesn’t mean that it isn’t still affecting people and culture today.

3.         The “pull yourself up by your boot straps” method is crap. When you’re born, your skin color helps dictate where you land in the race of life. If life is a hallway with everyone starting at the back, and a prize at the front, white skin color means you get a head start. Some people deserve some help to level the playing field.

4.         Don’t try and solve the racial divides, we are all different. Attempting to answer all the questions of inequality, racial divide, cultural divide, will only lead to more heartache as no one has a clear nonbiased perspective. Your own culture, race, economic class, will get in the way of your understanding and problem solving. Learn to love people for who they are, give help when asked, offer help often, seek to learn, ask questions.

5.         Remember that we’re all human.

The Sun is Rising 

Doubting

            I’ve had my moments. And by moments I mean the type that find myself questioning what I believe and why I believe it. I've questioned God and his creation, I've questioned why life works the way it does, and why it can be so unfair. I've questioned love of others, I've questioned my life path, decisions I’ve made, and the time I've spent helping others. I've wondered if my faith is sufficient, if I serve well, if I’ll do well in life.

            Someone in my life has been undergoing great torment for his own inquiring, for his time of walking away from his faith and questioning what he believes.  People making statements at him now that he’s returned, subjecting him to questioning about where he stands in life, and does he feel ashamed. I must say it’s times like these that I find myself greatly angered at the actions of my fellow Christians.

            Is it logical to chase someone away whom has returned from their searching? Is it defendable to ensure that the person feels guilty for their time of question?

            No. I say no. I say that in all our humanness, we’ve all had our questioning, rather outward or inward. The persecution of those who voice their questions are honest individuals living from a place of vulnerability and truth of heart. It takes great courage to question the foundations of ones faith, and voice those questions to family and friends.

            With a hug, and some tears, I welcomed him home. I don’t need to know every detail of why, where, and what happened. All I need is to know that my friend, who is often more like a brother, has returned home.

            People doubt, question, walk away… its part of being in a depraved world of hurt and pain. I don’t think it’s our job to increase the pain of those who have returned from their time of question. Measuring the grace that God gives each of us to function daily is beyond comprehension of any human, but yet many of us are so quick to hold our own grace from others.

“Jesus, Jesus, there are those that say they love you, but they have treated me so god damn mean. And I know you’ve said forgive them for they know not what they do, but sometimes I think they do, and I think about you”

- Noah Gunderson