Was Not Jesus an Extremist in Love

I don't have a huge reach on social media, and many of you know me personally, so maybe we have even talked within the last week. But, I still felt the need to write; to join the conversation. And to be honest, I don’t love doing it. Writing is a frustratingly lengthy process for me. But sometimes it feels like my brain and heart are swirling so much that the only way to make sense of it is to put it on paper.

Words do matter, and so does silence. (This is not to say one doesn't care by not making a social media post about something. Just that I believe this does need to be to be discussed—-online or in-person).

On that note, I stayed off social media last week. Feed fatigue is powerful, and I am struggling with it. But I know that sitting in this discomfort is important. A quote from a news commentator reads that "many white allies have been moved by embarrassment at intransigence and by the image of public cruelty, in much the same way as it happened in the 1960's. This feels bigger. It is bigger." 

And we are moved. We are wondering why it took us this long to dig in to this. To learn. To acknowledge. I have never—in my lifetime at least— seen people so on fire against injustice. But, I am overwhelmed. There is so much to be done. I am making lists of ways I can learn…because I will never start if I don't. I am checking out books from my library I have never thought I needed to read before. We watched Just Mercy and I have never felt so many emotions during a movie in my entire life. I am having conversations with my children that I have never had before. My brain and heart are exhausted. And it’s only been one week.

From Privilege to Progress: "White people, we gotta talk about burn out. You aren't conditioned to be thinking about race this much because of your privilege. We need you to do all you’re doing today, tomorrow, and until the end of time." It's true. This is all new to us. But as one graphic floating around says, how privileged we are to educate ourselves about racism instead of experiencing it.

Now, I am going to switch course a little bit and talk about being a Christ follower in the midst of this. Because yes, my heart for Jesus is big. But horrifyingly, white Christians don't have a great reputation when it comes to the topic of racism. I wrote the first part of this late last night, when I couldn't sleep. Then I woke up and watched church that I missed this weekend when I was working.  Then, I read Martin Luther King Jr,’s Letter from Birmingham Jail.

And whoa….the notes I took. I feel like I am studying for the biggest test of my life. And maybe I am. I’m embarrassed that I have celebrated him as a historical figure and yet have not read more of his writings. I am so inspired at how deftly and eloquently he weaves the gospel together with what was, and is, happening in America. He loved Jesus—deeply—and he mourned for the state of our current church. Because I could never describe it any better, here is what he says about the true design of the “church,” versus what it has become.

“There was a time when the church was very powerful. It was during that period that the early Christians rejoiced when they were deemed worthy to suffer for what they believed in. In those days, the church was not merely a thermometer that recorded the ideas and principles of popular opinion; it was the thermostat that transformed the mores of society. Wherever early Christians entered a town the power structure got disturbed and immediately sought to convict them for being ‘disturbers of the peace’ and ‘outside agitators.’ But they went on with the conviction…that they had to obey God rather than man. They were small in number but big in commitment. They brought an end to such ancient evils as infanticide and gladiatorial contest.”

And here is what he says about the church today:

“The contemporary church is so often a weak, ineffectual voice…the arch supporter of the status quo. Far from being disturbed by the presence of the church, the power structure of the average community is consoled by the church’s sanction of things as they are.

But the judgement of God is upon the church as never before. If the church today does not recapture the sacrificial spirit of the early church, it will lose its authentic ring….and be dismissed as an irrelevant social club with no meaning for the twentieth century.”

WAIT. Twentieth century. That’s not today. Except….it still is.

He’s writing in 1963, and his writings are just as relevant today, in the 21st century, as they were back then.

He also states that he came to Birmingham “with the hope that the white religious leadership would see the justice of our cause and with deep moral concern serve as the channel through which our just grievances could get to the power structure.”

It didn’t happen. Many ministers would say “Those are social issues which the gospel as nothing to do with.”

Jump to this past Sunday. Here are some notes, and while I know these are just words, right now, my hope is that we can be more like the early church.

“This movement began with Jesus, and should continue throughout his church. When Jesus is moved to compassion, he always acts. He always follows sorrow with action.”

“Who does he address? Not the crowd, but his disciples.”

So yes, this is us. Jesus didn’t command the oppressed, or the hurting; he commanded his followers.

Here were the action steps our church laid out, for anyone wondering, or for anyone who may feel overwhelmed about where to start:

Lament for those who are hurting.

  • If you are unaffected by what is going on today, you may not be seeing through the eyes and heart of Christ.

  • We will not be moved to action until we hurt for those who are hurting. 1 Cor 12-when one part of the body hurts, we all hurt.

Listen to people who are not like us.

  • Maybe, just maybe, we are not lamenting because we are not listening to anyone who is different than us. We can not learn if we do not make an effort to. To combat selfishness and narcissism, we have to listen to people who don’t live where we live, or who don’t look like we do.

  • On this note, are we listening to understand, or listening to respond? Our goal here should be the former. We have too often responded with arguments that are simplifying and insulting to the oppressed. Arguments that switch the conversation to make us more comfortable. Arguments that are defensive and not at all empathetic in nature.

I don’t feel like I have the ability, nor the right, to expound on this any further. I am still learning. But I do want to go back to MLK Jr.’s letter from prison, because it is just so full of truth. I would recommend to everyone to read it, and I will include the link below. But it is long, so if you don’t find yourself clicking through, here are some highlights:

In response to the white church leaders (whom he is writing):

“You deplore the demonstrations that are presently taking place, but…did not express a similar concern for the conditions that brought the demonstrations into being. I would not hesitate to say that it is unfortunate that demonstrations are taking place…but I would say in more emphatic terms that it is even more unfortunate that the white power structure of this city left the Negro community with no other alternative.”

You guys. This could have been written today. My response, when talking to others about the protests/riots and the fight against racism is this: One does not negate the other. This is the first time in my relatively short life that I have taken the time to examine that. The riots (which are only a small, well-publicized version of events) cannot be what we focus on. It’s easy to do. We say we want love, not hate; we say we want respect for the law, not looting, etc. etc. Those things are well and good, BUT, the existence of the riots, however violent and malintended they are, does not mean that we can focus on that over the root cause of this anger. That gets us nowhere.

Martin Luther King Jr., as the eloquent orator we all know him to be, describes the demonstrations, or “direct action,” in a way that I think we can all understand, should we choose to:

“Nonviolent direct action seeks to…establish such tension that a community that has consistently refused to negotiate is forced to confront the issue. It seeks to dramatize the issue so that it can no longer be ignored…There is a type of constructive nonviolent tension that is necessary for growth.”

If there is a better word to describe what we are all feeling right now than tension, I don’t know what it is. The tension is uncomfortable. It is keeping me up at night. It follows me throughout the day. And it’s not fun. But that’s how I know it is something I can’t let go of for the sake of normalcy…for the sake of feeling comfortable again.

MLK Jr. ties his thoughts on the aforementioned together in the following paragraph:

“I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that that the Negro’s greatest stumbling block in the stride toward freedom is not the White Citizens Councillor or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate who is more devoted to order than justice; who prefers a negative peace (the absence of tension) to a positive peace (the presence of justice)…who says ‘I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I can’t agree with your method’s of direct action;’ who paternalistically feel that he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom.”

And in response to those of us who may have stayed quiet in crises past, because we feel we are good, loving, non-racist people:

“We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the vitriolic words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people. We must come to see that human progress never rolls in on the wheels of inevitability. It comes through the tireless efforts…of men willing to be coworkers with God…”

And finally:

“WAS NOT JESUS AN EXTREMIST IN LOVE?” (caps mine)

That, for me, is what this all boils down to. If we claim to follow Jesus, we must support his calls for justice; we must share his love and care for the oppressed and the hurting; and we must act as his hands and feet.

“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” - John 13:35

I know this was long…if you’re still here, thank you for taking the time. I hope my “summaries” are helpful in knowing where my heart is right now. I also realize that I have pulled from a lot of sources (above and below), and I truly hope that is ok. I don’t feel I have adequate experience to speak on these matters in my own words too much, but wanted to share the things I have read that have opened my mind and my heart to this cause—primarily, Jesus. He stood against injustice and oppression, and so should we.

Link to full letter:

https://www.csuchico.edu/iege/_assets/documents/susi-letter-from-birmingham-jail.pdf

Graphics from Joe Terrell www.instrumentofmercy.com

Source: http://web.cn.edu/kwheeler/documents/letter_birmingham_jail.pdf

Our Texas Summer Part II, (plus a plea)

I had a whole 'nother post typed up for this, and as I got ready to hit save, I started over. Because while this was a wonderful, wonderful, trip with family, the thing that I will forever remember about this weekend is the feeling that I was going to lose my husband and my kids were going to lose their father. 

I know, dramatic. But there are times when I truly believe I have slight PTSD from this incident, because I will wake up in a panic, remembering these specific 2 minutes from our first outing on the boat during our mini family vacation.

And, though we went on our day like normal, and had an enjoyable time as a family, I distinctly remember lying in bed that night, reliving what had happened, with 100% certainty that I was going to speak out, somewhere, on the importance of life jackets, for everyone, always. And I never did. So now I am.

Here's what happened....

Friday morning my husband and brother woke early to kayak to the marina a few miles away. They were going to pick up the boat we had rented, load up the kayak, and drive back on that. All went well, but they came back pretty exhausted. These guys are strong, but it was a long distance. 

Soon after that, we all piled on to the pontoon boat to go tubing. Once we got to deep enough water, my 8 year old daredevil was of course the first one who wanted to go. Benjamin was going to jump in first to hold on to the tube for him.

None of us except the children had on life jackets at the time. I grew up going to the lake, and was always a very confident swimmer. The only time I ever wore a life jacket was on a jet ski, really. And being a fit, healthy, strong dad of two, no one thought a thing of my husband jumping in without one either. But as soon as he hit the water, a look of concern crossed his face, and he quickly asked us to come back and get him, as he was having a hard time staying above water. We were already floating away to give line to the tube, and couldn't easily turn a pontoon boat around--nor had any of us even given thought to having life preservers or extra jackets handy. As each second passed, my strong, able husband began to appear more and more frantic, and even begun to yell, hoarsely, for help. 

Time froze. I remember thinking "my children are going to watch their father drown." It was horrific. I scrambled for a life jacket, and threw one that landed 20 feet away. I contemplated jumping in--and really, what was I going to do?? Finally, he told me after the fact, he gained control of his legs and was able to tread water until we got to him.

What had happened, that no one expected or foresaw, was that his arms just simply gave out from the hours they kayaked that morning. He had not felt super sore, but the resistance from the water was unexpected, and his muscles just did not work. One of the strongest and hardest-working men I know simply could not get anywhere in the water, and it led to confusion, and then to panic. No grown, able, man expects to not be able to move in the water. But that is what had happened.

My unshakable husband was shaken when he got back on the boat. I was, obviously, a basketcase. We all calmed down, put lifejackets on, and continued our day. But I have never, EVER, seen something escalate so quickly, and so frighteningly, and it was all because of our misconceptions of the water.

So this is what I want to say--if it can happen to my 6" 4" 190lb, fit, healthy husband, it can happen to anyone. The unexpected happens. You land in the water wrong (see thelvproject.org), you lose control of your jet ski, your muscles cramp up, etc. I can't remember ever being frightened on a lake. The beach is powerful; there are large waves, and tides, and undercurrents--I have a healthy respect of the ocean. But lakes...lakes are calm, and peaceful, and.....deep.  If someone goes under and can't get back up...it gives me anxiety even thinking about it. I had never contemplated the dangers of swimming in 40ft deep water, until now. And I can confidently say I will never go out on a lake again without a lifejacket. Ever.

Please go read about the ww.thelvproject.org. A heartbroken mama started this project in honor of her (strong, capable) son, after he drowned jumping off a lakehouse deck, something he had done many many times before. But this one time, something went wrong, and he never surfaced. My son did this exact thing, over and over again, the day before the incident described above. It is horrifying to me to think that I let him do this without a life jacket. All because we were "right there." But again, when someone goes under in deep, deep water, there is nothing any of us can do.

Wear the dang lifejacket. 

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Our Texas Summer | Part I

I'll preface by saying this post is photo-heavy, but you wouldn't be here if you didnt expect that from me right?

We started our vacation this year by spending a couple days in the Hill Country to celebrate the 4th of July--and break up the drive. We visited the Texas White House and spent the evening eating and playing at a little celebration in my hometown. The next day we headed to the coast, and it was a relaxed, hot, sandy few days. We ate simple breakfasts and lunches at the condo or beach, played at the pool or fished during naptime, and went out to dinner most nights. We slept in, and sat on the balcony, and enjoyed going without much of a schedule.

There is so much in this group of pictures that speaks to my heart as a mother...in these is a visual record/encouragement that my kids are ok. That even though I feel I fail them sometimes, I can see here that they are having the kind of childhood I envisioned.  A trip to the beach is not a requirement to having a memorable childhood--don't hear me say that. But what I can see in these images are that they are experiencing nature, learning about the history of our state, celebrating our country, living a simple summer filled with BBQ and live music and sno-cones, enjoying the sun, relishing the water, dancing after dark, getting sunburned, getting sticky, scraping knees...

And with that, on a personal level, I let go of a lot of my perfectionist desires to document our memories. Yes, I took a bunch of photos--that's just part of me-- but I promised myself I wasn't going to be dragging around my big camera if it wasn't convenient or kept me from doing something with my family (enter: my investment in a small mirrorless camera and a waterproof housing. Convenient and worry-proof).

So while I would love to use my nice camera on vacations, I think this was a perfect choice for me. There are photos that were taken with my big camera, but most were with my mirrorless, some with ON-CAMERA flash (gasp), some with the waterproof housing, some with grain, and even a handful of images that are blurry, but that I love. None of the conditions were perfect for perfect photography (heat, sand, salt, etc), but I tried to let go of my need to memorialize everything perfectly, and instead capture it so that I, and my kiddos, could perfectly remember it.

This was a really neat future of the little "museum" at the Texas White House. For preservation purposes, some of LBJ's phone calls were recorded, and it was super interesting to hear him, as president, having these normal conversations with people. Ian and Benj are listening to him congratulate Coach Royal on Texas' Cotton Bowl victory.

I can't remember who took this^^ but it was one of my children and I thought they did pretty well!