That's what a child wrote to his father who is an inmate at prison. I saw the note when I was in the mailroom in Monday and I thought of it again when I saw a four year old and eight year old in the visitation area today. My heart breaks for these children who are growing up with their fathers in prison. I can't even imagine what it is like. I pray that some of these fathers will realize how their mistakes affect their families, and hopefully that will motivate them to never step back in prison again. I am encouraged when I meet inmates like Mr. Cooper who will be getting out in September. I only know more about his situation because I've been able to sit in on meetings between him and Mr. Tiller, a man who helps inmates from Edgecombe County find jobs when they get released. At his first meeting with Mr. Tiller, Mr. Cooper said that he had plans for when he was released so he could stay out of prison because he had a son now and he wanted to be a good example for him. The cynic may say that he's just another inmate with a false story, but I believe him and after meeting with him a few times, Mr. Tiller thinks so too. My boss said that Mr. Cooper changed for the better once he got his GED. Before he took GED classes Mr. Coooper had been reluctant to get an education but once he started passing some tests and building some confidence he was excited to get his GED and apparently was very proud on graduation day. Mr. Tiller met with Mr. Cooper yesterday to fill out some job applications and to find some sort of stable housing for when he gets out. I think the transition services that Mr. Tiller provides is the kind of thing I thought case managers would provide, but case managers mainly work on what the inmate does while in prison. I would really like to someday do what Mr. Tiller is doing because it is directly helping someone get off their feet and giving them a second chance after prison.
Only two more days at Eastern, it's gone by quickly.
I was talking about the kids earlier and my step-mom's cousin, Claire, who is one of the family members that lives in Greenville, told me about a ministry that helps children of inmates. The ministry will be coming to Maury Correctional, a prison down the road from Eastern, this weekend. She said the ministry was started by a woman whose father was in prison when she was growing up. Claire said the focus of it is reconciliation between parents and children and the woman uses her story to help others. The ministry's event is two days, I think, and involves different activities for the children, the fathers and the caregivers of the children and it also involves time between the children and fathers. Now, I've heard a lot about reconciliation the past couple of years, specifically concerning racial reconciliation, and I think it is so cool that someone is actively teaching and helping others to practice reconciliation.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Saturday, July 25, 2009
We're all brothers and sisters in Christ, right?
That's what I said to myself about two weeks ago as I sat in my car in the parking lot of Koiana Christian Center on Greenville Blvd. It was a Wednesday night and I had decided that I really needed some mid-week Christian fellowship so I had driven to People's Baptist Church, a church that a friend had recommended. I pulled into a very empty parking lot and saw a sign on the door saying that Wednesday night meetings were scheduled for Thursday nights during the month of July. "Just great." I thought. I could have gone back home and watched TV after that, but I really felt like I needed to be in a place with other Christians that night. It had been a hard week for me, because if I wasn't at home in the apartment by myself, I was trying to support my roommate Katie who was mending a broken heart. It wasn't that I felt burdened by Katie and her problems, because I was glad that I could at least be there to listen, but her world is so different from mine and words that I would usually use to comfort a sister in Christ did not seem to help a person that was so angry at God. So anyways I knew I needed to hear the word of God with other Christians so I left People's Baptist and drove to the church next door, Koiana Christian Center. The church looked very contemporary with its flashing sign, huge parking lot, and one story campus. As I pulled into the parking lot I saw people walking towards the church campus. All of the people I saw, at first, were black. I then thought that this church might be a lot like the church I grew up in, back in Apex, a racially diverse church that had been a perfect church for my multi-racial family. Well, as I drove around the parking lot, looking for a spot, I noticed that I saw no people of any other race. All of a sudden, the comfort I felt faded.
I never realized the comfort I felt from being around white people, people of the same race as me, until they were all gone. I began thinking back to the two Gold-n-love meetings I had attended at UNC last fall. Gold-n-love is a campus service organization that, I found out upon attending, is all black and whose mission statement is to empower minorities by providing minority mentors for minority students. I had been the only white person at those meetings and had tried to make the best of it, but wasn't too distraught when I realized I wouldn't be able to attend anymore because of a scheduling conflict. Then I thought of my experiences at attending predominantly-black churches. Those had been uncomfortable, but I had always been with a friend or family member so that had helped. Now, I sat in my car alone, not knowing what to do. My mind raced with questions: We're all brothers and sisters in Christ, right? Why should it matter if I'm white? But, what if they are a church that is ethnic-specific? What if I get stared at? I prayed that God would give me the strength to step out of the car. I somehow did, and received a little comfort from the fact that I thought I saw two white people walking from their car towards the building. As I neared the building I tried to keep my head up and look like I belonged there, but on the inside my heart was pounding.
I entered the church and was releived to see that the auditorium was very big so I could just sit at the back and hopefully be un-noticed. Then, an usher came up to me and asked me if I just needed one seat. I said yes and she pointed me to another usher waiting for me at the fourth row from the front of the church. Everyone I saw was black. At this time the church choir was on stage singing a song, that everybody in the church seemed to know by heart and I took my seat feeling like I was being stared at by everyone. I know that sounds selfish and paranoid, but it's how I felt. The choir finished their song and took their seats for the Bible Study to begin. The church was similar to the few Pentacostal church services I had been to, where there was a lot of "conversation" between the pastor and the congregation. People would say amen, lift their hands and say words like "preach it" while the drums and piano would begin playing at a dramatic part of the study. The woman sitting next to me would sometimes look at me and say "amen" and sorta nudge my shoulder, almost as to tell me that I should probably say amen, too. By the end of the message I was saying "amen" but I wasn't comfortable enough to stand up or raise my hands. During the message the camera-person would switch views from the pastor and put the camera on the congregation so they might be seen on the two projections screens at the front of the auditorium. At one time the camera was on me. I was freaking out on the inside but on the outside I just tried to stay focused ont he pastor. I could have sworn I saw a person at the front of the church take a double-take rapidly looking from the pastor to the screen a couple of times. Another guy in front of me, looked at the screen and laughed. And right after the camera moved from me, the pastor asked, "Why ya'll so quiet? You must not want to be in church right now." All of this could have been a coincidence, but I was so uncomfortable I felt like all of it was a result of me being white. As the message continued I grew more comfortable as the pastor spoked about being in tune with the Holy Spirit and how He has shown Himself throughout the Old and New Testament. I did appreciate the fact that at one point during the message, when talking about oral tradition,s she said, "Now I know not all of us in here are African-American, but I would like to say to those that are, that we are losing our traditions." It reminded me of how important it is to recognize others. Like when people in Intervaristy say "we're white" that completely overlooks the few people in Intervarsity that aren't white.
By the end of the service I had seen two other white women, but my feeling so discomfort stil lingered. After the service I walked directly to my car, glad to have received the Word but also glad to be heading home. I thought to myself, how that may be like it always is for minorities and how they might just have to get used to it after awhile. But I was talking to my step-dad, who is black, the other day about my experience and he told me that he still never gets used to being the only black person in a place. I couldn't believe that! I thought for sure, you would just get used to it after awhile, but he said, for him, it's still really hard. It's hard for him to not perceive looks as stares and to not perceive whispers as being about you. I don't know how to change that, but I really wished that didn't happen.
And things like that, that my step-dad has told me over the years, have really made me passionate about God's value of multi-ethnicity. It's not that I want the church, as in the body of Christ, to overlook race, but I want the church to be able to welcome people and to make them feel at home. I want everybody in the church to feel like I did at my family reunion the other weekend: I knew I was white and that almost all of my family was black but I also knew that I loved them and they loved me and that made me feel more comfortable around my extended family than I have ever felt before.
I never realized the comfort I felt from being around white people, people of the same race as me, until they were all gone. I began thinking back to the two Gold-n-love meetings I had attended at UNC last fall. Gold-n-love is a campus service organization that, I found out upon attending, is all black and whose mission statement is to empower minorities by providing minority mentors for minority students. I had been the only white person at those meetings and had tried to make the best of it, but wasn't too distraught when I realized I wouldn't be able to attend anymore because of a scheduling conflict. Then I thought of my experiences at attending predominantly-black churches. Those had been uncomfortable, but I had always been with a friend or family member so that had helped. Now, I sat in my car alone, not knowing what to do. My mind raced with questions: We're all brothers and sisters in Christ, right? Why should it matter if I'm white? But, what if they are a church that is ethnic-specific? What if I get stared at? I prayed that God would give me the strength to step out of the car. I somehow did, and received a little comfort from the fact that I thought I saw two white people walking from their car towards the building. As I neared the building I tried to keep my head up and look like I belonged there, but on the inside my heart was pounding.
I entered the church and was releived to see that the auditorium was very big so I could just sit at the back and hopefully be un-noticed. Then, an usher came up to me and asked me if I just needed one seat. I said yes and she pointed me to another usher waiting for me at the fourth row from the front of the church. Everyone I saw was black. At this time the church choir was on stage singing a song, that everybody in the church seemed to know by heart and I took my seat feeling like I was being stared at by everyone. I know that sounds selfish and paranoid, but it's how I felt. The choir finished their song and took their seats for the Bible Study to begin. The church was similar to the few Pentacostal church services I had been to, where there was a lot of "conversation" between the pastor and the congregation. People would say amen, lift their hands and say words like "preach it" while the drums and piano would begin playing at a dramatic part of the study. The woman sitting next to me would sometimes look at me and say "amen" and sorta nudge my shoulder, almost as to tell me that I should probably say amen, too. By the end of the message I was saying "amen" but I wasn't comfortable enough to stand up or raise my hands. During the message the camera-person would switch views from the pastor and put the camera on the congregation so they might be seen on the two projections screens at the front of the auditorium. At one time the camera was on me. I was freaking out on the inside but on the outside I just tried to stay focused ont he pastor. I could have sworn I saw a person at the front of the church take a double-take rapidly looking from the pastor to the screen a couple of times. Another guy in front of me, looked at the screen and laughed. And right after the camera moved from me, the pastor asked, "Why ya'll so quiet? You must not want to be in church right now." All of this could have been a coincidence, but I was so uncomfortable I felt like all of it was a result of me being white. As the message continued I grew more comfortable as the pastor spoked about being in tune with the Holy Spirit and how He has shown Himself throughout the Old and New Testament. I did appreciate the fact that at one point during the message, when talking about oral tradition,s she said, "Now I know not all of us in here are African-American, but I would like to say to those that are, that we are losing our traditions." It reminded me of how important it is to recognize others. Like when people in Intervaristy say "we're white" that completely overlooks the few people in Intervarsity that aren't white.
By the end of the service I had seen two other white women, but my feeling so discomfort stil lingered. After the service I walked directly to my car, glad to have received the Word but also glad to be heading home. I thought to myself, how that may be like it always is for minorities and how they might just have to get used to it after awhile. But I was talking to my step-dad, who is black, the other day about my experience and he told me that he still never gets used to being the only black person in a place. I couldn't believe that! I thought for sure, you would just get used to it after awhile, but he said, for him, it's still really hard. It's hard for him to not perceive looks as stares and to not perceive whispers as being about you. I don't know how to change that, but I really wished that didn't happen.
And things like that, that my step-dad has told me over the years, have really made me passionate about God's value of multi-ethnicity. It's not that I want the church, as in the body of Christ, to overlook race, but I want the church to be able to welcome people and to make them feel at home. I want everybody in the church to feel like I did at my family reunion the other weekend: I knew I was white and that almost all of my family was black but I also knew that I loved them and they loved me and that made me feel more comfortable around my extended family than I have ever felt before.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
"You're going to have nightmares of files!"
That's what the nurse supervisor said to me this afternoon after I had been in the medical records room for 8 hours today. I spent the entire day filing the medication records from June. I was so exhausted from being on my feet that day that it probably took me five minutes to walk from the gatehouse to my car. And when I got home my roommate said I looked so tired.
Thankfully, I wasn't by myself all day though. Ms. Artis is a pharmacy technician whose office is in the medical records room and she is always making me smile. We don't even have many conversations but she's always making comments that make me smile. She completely speaks her mind. And today was very busy for her and she was constantly saying "Help me Lord" and "If they call me one more time...." She reminds me a lot of Madea, the Tyler Perry character, and not in a bad way, she just speaks her mind. The first time I met her she was telling me about inmates coming to the medical window to pick up medicines and she said, "Yeah they learned real quick how I do things. They tuck their shirts in and make sure their hair looks okay. I don't need anyone coming to the window looking like they just put their finger in an electrical socket!" There's also C/O Albertson who is posted at the door and checks the inmates that come in and out of medical. He is constantly giving Ms. Artis a hard time. They remind me of a brother and sister. And today Mr. Albertson kept calling Ms. Branam, and I didn't know how to correct him so I just went with it. I mean, how do you tell someone what your name is without really making it awkward? I don't think there is a way. Then, there is Ms. King one of the full-time nurses. I've had conversations with her when she's not too busy, which doesn't happen a lot, but if she is finished seeing a patient or is just looking for a file she'll come back and talk to me. She's working on her bachelor's degree and has a big family. I enjoy talking to her.
So with all that said, I think one of the biggest things I've learned from this job is that even if a job isn't exactly what you love to do, it can still really be great if you're surrounded by people. I love learning about people (spoken like a true psychology major, I know.) Everybody has a story and I've enjoyed getting to know the stories of some of the staff at Eastern. Sometimes it will begin with me just asking someone about what kind of responsibilities fall under his/her position, and I'll end up finding about families, schooling, hobbies, etc. It's been really cool too, because while I'm having these conversation it's hard for me not to bring up God. He is a central part of my life, so faith usually always comes up, even if it's just me saying "yeah, that's the plan for now, but it's really up to what God wants." or mentioning church. And some people just continue talking about other things, but a few people have continued to talk about faith. One woman told me about her faith and her involvement in the church. She was surprised to see a young person with faith and asked if there were people at college like that. I was glad that I could say yes, there are young people out there who really love Jesus. Another guy and I talked about the importance of church in the life of a person, and even though we disagreed on the subject, he didn't get upset, but instead said, "With as religious as you are I would have thought you'd gone to Campbell." Another man opened up to his doubts about God and how he didn't understand why God had let certain things happen in his life.
So even though this internship isn't exactly what I've expected it to be, it reminded me that I am most definitely a people-person and that everybody has a story and many people are willing to talk if you just listen.
Thankfully, I wasn't by myself all day though. Ms. Artis is a pharmacy technician whose office is in the medical records room and she is always making me smile. We don't even have many conversations but she's always making comments that make me smile. She completely speaks her mind. And today was very busy for her and she was constantly saying "Help me Lord" and "If they call me one more time...." She reminds me a lot of Madea, the Tyler Perry character, and not in a bad way, she just speaks her mind. The first time I met her she was telling me about inmates coming to the medical window to pick up medicines and she said, "Yeah they learned real quick how I do things. They tuck their shirts in and make sure their hair looks okay. I don't need anyone coming to the window looking like they just put their finger in an electrical socket!" There's also C/O Albertson who is posted at the door and checks the inmates that come in and out of medical. He is constantly giving Ms. Artis a hard time. They remind me of a brother and sister. And today Mr. Albertson kept calling Ms. Branam, and I didn't know how to correct him so I just went with it. I mean, how do you tell someone what your name is without really making it awkward? I don't think there is a way. Then, there is Ms. King one of the full-time nurses. I've had conversations with her when she's not too busy, which doesn't happen a lot, but if she is finished seeing a patient or is just looking for a file she'll come back and talk to me. She's working on her bachelor's degree and has a big family. I enjoy talking to her.
So with all that said, I think one of the biggest things I've learned from this job is that even if a job isn't exactly what you love to do, it can still really be great if you're surrounded by people. I love learning about people (spoken like a true psychology major, I know.) Everybody has a story and I've enjoyed getting to know the stories of some of the staff at Eastern. Sometimes it will begin with me just asking someone about what kind of responsibilities fall under his/her position, and I'll end up finding about families, schooling, hobbies, etc. It's been really cool too, because while I'm having these conversation it's hard for me not to bring up God. He is a central part of my life, so faith usually always comes up, even if it's just me saying "yeah, that's the plan for now, but it's really up to what God wants." or mentioning church. And some people just continue talking about other things, but a few people have continued to talk about faith. One woman told me about her faith and her involvement in the church. She was surprised to see a young person with faith and asked if there were people at college like that. I was glad that I could say yes, there are young people out there who really love Jesus. Another guy and I talked about the importance of church in the life of a person, and even though we disagreed on the subject, he didn't get upset, but instead said, "With as religious as you are I would have thought you'd gone to Campbell." Another man opened up to his doubts about God and how he didn't understand why God had let certain things happen in his life.
So even though this internship isn't exactly what I've expected it to be, it reminded me that I am most definitely a people-person and that everybody has a story and many people are willing to talk if you just listen.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Greene County Kin, E-bird's 90th birthday, and shaking the Governor's hand
A quick update.
Last Thursday night I was invited to the home of Claire and Bob Smith. Claire is my step-mom's cousin and she also works at the DOC Eastern region office in Greenville. I only discovered this a couple of weeks ago when I was telling my step-mom about my internship. I had met Claire on the second day of my internship, at a DOC volunteer reception in Raleigh, but I had no idea that we were related. It's a small world. After making the discovery that I had family in Greene County, I spoke to Claire and she invited to come and eat at her house. Her father, Short Shirley, lives across the street from her and I got to see him as well. It was sort of like meeting him, though, because the last time I saw him was when I went to his house for Thanksgiving when I was about 8. It was nice to talk to Claire, Bob, and Uncle Short (that's what everybody on my step-mom's side of the family calls him, regardless of if he's technically their uncle or not) and catch up. I actually found out that my grandfather (Papa) grew up in Greene County and before dinner Uncle Short took me on a tour of the surrounding property. He showed me the house where him and Papa and their other siblings grew up. He also showed me the house of other relatives. It's really neat that he knows everybody in the area. Him and the Smiths also had many connections to Eastern. For one, Bob used to be the superintendent at Eastern a few years ago before he became the superintendent at Maury, and then retired. The mailroom actually received a letter for him the other day. Also, the chaplain at the prison used to be the pastor at the church the Smiths and Uncle Short attend, in fact, he was the pastor at Bob and Claire's wedding. I spoke to him about this connection and he told me that Uncle Short's wife was such a great example of a Christian woman. He said the Smiths and Uncle Short were very good Christian family. I felt proud to have my kin spoken so highly of. We both joked that hopefully that was one part of the family that rubbed off on me.
After dinner Thursday night I drove to Greenville to pack up for the weekend. My family and I left on Friday to attend a family get-together/celebration of my grandma's 90th birthday in Covington, VA. It was nice to see my family again. The celebration had less people than the usual family reunions so I actually remembered most of the people. A part of the weekend that I really enjoyed was going to Clifton Forge, VA (the next town over) which is where my step-dad grew up. Many of the people he and his siblings grew up with still live there and we got to meet some of them. I was able to see some of the houses where JJ (my step-dad) used to live, the downtown areas where he used to hang out, and the shortcuts he took to school. I was also able to see the schools that he used to tell me about. I got to see the black school where he went until his junior year of high school and then I got to see the white school where he was sent to for his junior and senior year because the schools were beginning to integrate. He's told me a few of the stories that occurred in those buildings and on that football field and it was neat to actually see the place. It is difficult to think, though, that there were separate schools for blacks and whites and that there was a black area of town and a white area of town and that these two areas were separated by railroad tracks.
Saturday night we held a banquet for my grandma and she seemed to really love it. Everybody dressed up and we met in the banquet hall at the restaurant. One of my favorite parts was read by Tiffany (my Uncle's granddaughter). She told us five lessons that she learned from grandma and they were all concerning phrases that my grandma often says such as "lay that pistol down" or "Oooh oooh oooh". After the tributes and the food we all stayed around to talk and take lots of pictures. It was a nice weekend.
Today I attended a reception for all interns that are participating in the same program as I am, as well as the interns who work at the executive, legislative, and judicial offices. It was held at the Governor's mansion. I had never been there before and it was beautiful. We had time to talk to other interns and mingle and such. Then, the Governor, Mrs. Perdue, spoke. She congratulated all of us for our accomplishments and told us she believed that we "the best and the brightest" were the future of our state. It would sound corny to most people but I really felt she was sincere. She encouraged us to continue to work hard and pursue our goals, and she hoped that they might include serving the state of North Carolina or at least serving just serving others. She hoped to encourage us by saying that she has hope for the future of North Carolina and it is that hope that continues to drive her to serve this state even when things seem difficult. She said that was part of being a leader: making decisions, and remembering the long term as well as the short term. The Governor and all of the interns took a picture on the steps of the mansion. My friend, Tessa, and I were standing right beside her. After the photo was taken we were both able to shake her hand and thank her. I'm not sure if we were supposed to do that or not, but I just followed Tessa's lead because I thought it was a great moment to do so. After we shook her hand, though, she was whisked away by security. It was a nice event and I enjoyed it.
Tomorrow I head back to Eastern. I only have 2 1/2 weeks left. It has flown by and I hope I can make the most of each day that I have left.
Last Thursday night I was invited to the home of Claire and Bob Smith. Claire is my step-mom's cousin and she also works at the DOC Eastern region office in Greenville. I only discovered this a couple of weeks ago when I was telling my step-mom about my internship. I had met Claire on the second day of my internship, at a DOC volunteer reception in Raleigh, but I had no idea that we were related. It's a small world. After making the discovery that I had family in Greene County, I spoke to Claire and she invited to come and eat at her house. Her father, Short Shirley, lives across the street from her and I got to see him as well. It was sort of like meeting him, though, because the last time I saw him was when I went to his house for Thanksgiving when I was about 8. It was nice to talk to Claire, Bob, and Uncle Short (that's what everybody on my step-mom's side of the family calls him, regardless of if he's technically their uncle or not) and catch up. I actually found out that my grandfather (Papa) grew up in Greene County and before dinner Uncle Short took me on a tour of the surrounding property. He showed me the house where him and Papa and their other siblings grew up. He also showed me the house of other relatives. It's really neat that he knows everybody in the area. Him and the Smiths also had many connections to Eastern. For one, Bob used to be the superintendent at Eastern a few years ago before he became the superintendent at Maury, and then retired. The mailroom actually received a letter for him the other day. Also, the chaplain at the prison used to be the pastor at the church the Smiths and Uncle Short attend, in fact, he was the pastor at Bob and Claire's wedding. I spoke to him about this connection and he told me that Uncle Short's wife was such a great example of a Christian woman. He said the Smiths and Uncle Short were very good Christian family. I felt proud to have my kin spoken so highly of. We both joked that hopefully that was one part of the family that rubbed off on me.
After dinner Thursday night I drove to Greenville to pack up for the weekend. My family and I left on Friday to attend a family get-together/celebration of my grandma's 90th birthday in Covington, VA. It was nice to see my family again. The celebration had less people than the usual family reunions so I actually remembered most of the people. A part of the weekend that I really enjoyed was going to Clifton Forge, VA (the next town over) which is where my step-dad grew up. Many of the people he and his siblings grew up with still live there and we got to meet some of them. I was able to see some of the houses where JJ (my step-dad) used to live, the downtown areas where he used to hang out, and the shortcuts he took to school. I was also able to see the schools that he used to tell me about. I got to see the black school where he went until his junior year of high school and then I got to see the white school where he was sent to for his junior and senior year because the schools were beginning to integrate. He's told me a few of the stories that occurred in those buildings and on that football field and it was neat to actually see the place. It is difficult to think, though, that there were separate schools for blacks and whites and that there was a black area of town and a white area of town and that these two areas were separated by railroad tracks.
Saturday night we held a banquet for my grandma and she seemed to really love it. Everybody dressed up and we met in the banquet hall at the restaurant. One of my favorite parts was read by Tiffany (my Uncle's granddaughter). She told us five lessons that she learned from grandma and they were all concerning phrases that my grandma often says such as "lay that pistol down" or "Oooh oooh oooh". After the tributes and the food we all stayed around to talk and take lots of pictures. It was a nice weekend.
Today I attended a reception for all interns that are participating in the same program as I am, as well as the interns who work at the executive, legislative, and judicial offices. It was held at the Governor's mansion. I had never been there before and it was beautiful. We had time to talk to other interns and mingle and such. Then, the Governor, Mrs. Perdue, spoke. She congratulated all of us for our accomplishments and told us she believed that we "the best and the brightest" were the future of our state. It would sound corny to most people but I really felt she was sincere. She encouraged us to continue to work hard and pursue our goals, and she hoped that they might include serving the state of North Carolina or at least serving just serving others. She hoped to encourage us by saying that she has hope for the future of North Carolina and it is that hope that continues to drive her to serve this state even when things seem difficult. She said that was part of being a leader: making decisions, and remembering the long term as well as the short term. The Governor and all of the interns took a picture on the steps of the mansion. My friend, Tessa, and I were standing right beside her. After the photo was taken we were both able to shake her hand and thank her. I'm not sure if we were supposed to do that or not, but I just followed Tessa's lead because I thought it was a great moment to do so. After we shook her hand, though, she was whisked away by security. It was a nice event and I enjoyed it.
Tomorrow I head back to Eastern. I only have 2 1/2 weeks left. It has flown by and I hope I can make the most of each day that I have left.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
I read something so radical today
So today wasn't the greatest of days. It was just one of those days where things that usually just bother me a little bit were driving me crazy and things that never bothered me at all were beginning to bother me. It may have been better if I had had something to keep me busy but my mind had lots of time to wander today and I just kept thinking about all these things that were bothering me. The list of things is long and random and includes being annoyed by facebook, text messaging, adults gossiping, and people that are tough to love. As soon as I got home from work I journaled and prayed about it all and feel very much at peace now.
So instead of dwelling on the little things that really aren't that bad at all, I thought I would write today about a book I've been reading called "Jesus for President." It's written by Shane Claiborne and Chris Haw. I've been slowly reading it over the last year and I've enjoyed reading every part of it. It goes through the Bible and what Jesus has to say about living, about politics and about money. It's all radical, not because it's far from the Bible, but because it's exactly what Jesus preached and I've not used to seeing Jesus' teachings on these topics applied to real life. In fact, our society today is far from some of the things Jesus preached but that doesn't mean we can't be redeemed and pursue His kingdom. The last part of the book gives example of real Christ-followers living out the radical teachings of Jesus in a world where it doesn't seem possible or realistic. Some of the stories are so powerful because it shows me that I can no longer use "cultural or social norms" as reasons for why I can't be exactly like Christ wants me to be. Yes, cultural and social norms make it difficult to automatically change the world in one day but they don't make it impossible to change the world over time.
I would like to share with you a passage of the book that I read today that was so radical and made me really think. So many times I've thought "Well, as a Christian, I would ideally want it that way; but because I'm an American the realistic thing to do is this." But, Jesus doesn't except this excuse and I don't think I should either. I am a Christian and an American, but my identity in Him comes before any other identity. And that is the powerful thing that I am learning from this book and from the Bible.
Amish for Homeland Security
"Do you remember how the Amish responded to the act of terror in their school, when a gunman killed five Amish children in 2006? Our friend Diana Butler Bass wrote an article pontificating what the world would look like if the Amish had led us after September 11. Consider their response to the murders, a response that fascinated the world. Within the first week after the shootings, the Amish families who had suffered such terror responded in four ways that captured the world's attention. First, some elders visited Marie Roberts, the wife of the murderer, to offer forgiveness. Then, the families of the slain girls invited the widow to their own children's funerals. Next, they requested that all relief money intended for the Amish families be shared with Ms. Roberts and her children. And finally, in an astonishing act of reconciliation, dozens of Amish families attended the funeral of the killer.
Diana goes on to share that she talked with her husband about the spiritual power of these actions, commenting, "It is an amazing witness to the peace tradition." And her husband looked at her and said passionately, "Witness? I don't think so. This went well past witnessing. They weren't witnessing to anything They were actively making peace." Her article ends with these words as she reflected on that truth:
Their actions not only witness that the Christian God is a God of forgiveness, but they actively created the conditions in which forgiveness could happen. In the most straightforward way, they embarked on imitating Christ: "Father, forgive them; they know not what they do." In acting as Christ, they did not speculate on forgiveness. They forgave. And forgiveness is, as Christianity teaches, the prerequisite to peace. We forgive because God forgave us; in forgiving we participate in God's dream of reconciliation and shalom.
Then an odd thought occurred to me: What if the Amish were in charge of the war on terror? What if, on the evening of September 12, 2001, we had gone to Osama bin Laden's house (metaphorically, of course, since we didn't know where he lived!) and offered him forgiveness? What if we had invited the families of the hijackers to the funerals of the victims of 9/11? What if a portion of the September 11th Fund had been dedicated to relieving poverty in a Muslim country? What if we dignified the burial of their dead by a respectful grief? What if, instead of seeking vengeance, we had stood together in human pain, looking honestly at the shared sin and sadness we suffered? What if we had tried to make peace? So, here's my modest proposal. We're five years too late for an Amish response to 9/11. But maybe we should ask them to take over the Department of Homeland Security. After all, actively practicing forgiveness and making peace are the only real alternatives to perpetual frear and a multi-generational global religious war. I can't imagine any other path to security. And nobody else can figure out what to do to end this insane war. Why not try the Christian practice of forgiveness? If it worked in Lancaster, maybe it will work in Baghdad, too.
Well said sista': a lovely addition to the campaign. Jesus for president and the Amish for Homeland Security. Amen."
So instead of dwelling on the little things that really aren't that bad at all, I thought I would write today about a book I've been reading called "Jesus for President." It's written by Shane Claiborne and Chris Haw. I've been slowly reading it over the last year and I've enjoyed reading every part of it. It goes through the Bible and what Jesus has to say about living, about politics and about money. It's all radical, not because it's far from the Bible, but because it's exactly what Jesus preached and I've not used to seeing Jesus' teachings on these topics applied to real life. In fact, our society today is far from some of the things Jesus preached but that doesn't mean we can't be redeemed and pursue His kingdom. The last part of the book gives example of real Christ-followers living out the radical teachings of Jesus in a world where it doesn't seem possible or realistic. Some of the stories are so powerful because it shows me that I can no longer use "cultural or social norms" as reasons for why I can't be exactly like Christ wants me to be. Yes, cultural and social norms make it difficult to automatically change the world in one day but they don't make it impossible to change the world over time.
I would like to share with you a passage of the book that I read today that was so radical and made me really think. So many times I've thought "Well, as a Christian, I would ideally want it that way; but because I'm an American the realistic thing to do is this." But, Jesus doesn't except this excuse and I don't think I should either. I am a Christian and an American, but my identity in Him comes before any other identity. And that is the powerful thing that I am learning from this book and from the Bible.
Amish for Homeland Security
"Do you remember how the Amish responded to the act of terror in their school, when a gunman killed five Amish children in 2006? Our friend Diana Butler Bass wrote an article pontificating what the world would look like if the Amish had led us after September 11. Consider their response to the murders, a response that fascinated the world. Within the first week after the shootings, the Amish families who had suffered such terror responded in four ways that captured the world's attention. First, some elders visited Marie Roberts, the wife of the murderer, to offer forgiveness. Then, the families of the slain girls invited the widow to their own children's funerals. Next, they requested that all relief money intended for the Amish families be shared with Ms. Roberts and her children. And finally, in an astonishing act of reconciliation, dozens of Amish families attended the funeral of the killer.
Diana goes on to share that she talked with her husband about the spiritual power of these actions, commenting, "It is an amazing witness to the peace tradition." And her husband looked at her and said passionately, "Witness? I don't think so. This went well past witnessing. They weren't witnessing to anything They were actively making peace." Her article ends with these words as she reflected on that truth:
Their actions not only witness that the Christian God is a God of forgiveness, but they actively created the conditions in which forgiveness could happen. In the most straightforward way, they embarked on imitating Christ: "Father, forgive them; they know not what they do." In acting as Christ, they did not speculate on forgiveness. They forgave. And forgiveness is, as Christianity teaches, the prerequisite to peace. We forgive because God forgave us; in forgiving we participate in God's dream of reconciliation and shalom.
Then an odd thought occurred to me: What if the Amish were in charge of the war on terror? What if, on the evening of September 12, 2001, we had gone to Osama bin Laden's house (metaphorically, of course, since we didn't know where he lived!) and offered him forgiveness? What if we had invited the families of the hijackers to the funerals of the victims of 9/11? What if a portion of the September 11th Fund had been dedicated to relieving poverty in a Muslim country? What if we dignified the burial of their dead by a respectful grief? What if, instead of seeking vengeance, we had stood together in human pain, looking honestly at the shared sin and sadness we suffered? What if we had tried to make peace? So, here's my modest proposal. We're five years too late for an Amish response to 9/11. But maybe we should ask them to take over the Department of Homeland Security. After all, actively practicing forgiveness and making peace are the only real alternatives to perpetual frear and a multi-generational global religious war. I can't imagine any other path to security. And nobody else can figure out what to do to end this insane war. Why not try the Christian practice of forgiveness? If it worked in Lancaster, maybe it will work in Baghdad, too.
Well said sista': a lovely addition to the campaign. Jesus for president and the Amish for Homeland Security. Amen."
Monday, July 6, 2009
4th of July weekend
It's been really quiet here tonight. One of my roommates Whitney is at work. My other roommate Rachel has been away at her grandparents for the last few days. And Katie, my other roommate, went to the pool with some friends. I'm not a huge fan of eating dinner by myself, but this is the first time it's ever happened so it's not that big a deal. The quiet time has given me time to reflect on the day and the past weekend and time to write this post.
It was nice to have a 3-day weekend this past weekend. (July 3rd was a holiday for state employees.) Adam came up Thursday night and we spent the entire weekend together. It was really great to see him. On Saturday we decided to go to Washington, NC which is a town about 20 or so miles from Greenville. I had asked people at work where they suggested going for 4th of July and Washington was one of those places. We went there around 7 and walked around downtown Washington. Although many of the stores were closed because of the holiday there were not many empty storefronts, so it seems like the downtown is actually doing pretty well. Then we walked along the boardwalk where people were already sitting in chairs and on towels. There were a couple of vendors along the boardwalk, selling homemade ice cream, sno-cones, burgers and hot dogs. At around 9 the fireworks began and they were so beautiful along the river. It was a wonderful 4th of July.
Today at work I spent most of the day in the mailroom just sorting out mail. It was a good day and it went by quickly. I don't have much else to write about. I hope all is well with everybody.
It was nice to have a 3-day weekend this past weekend. (July 3rd was a holiday for state employees.) Adam came up Thursday night and we spent the entire weekend together. It was really great to see him. On Saturday we decided to go to Washington, NC which is a town about 20 or so miles from Greenville. I had asked people at work where they suggested going for 4th of July and Washington was one of those places. We went there around 7 and walked around downtown Washington. Although many of the stores were closed because of the holiday there were not many empty storefronts, so it seems like the downtown is actually doing pretty well. Then we walked along the boardwalk where people were already sitting in chairs and on towels. There were a couple of vendors along the boardwalk, selling homemade ice cream, sno-cones, burgers and hot dogs. At around 9 the fireworks began and they were so beautiful along the river. It was a wonderful 4th of July.
Today at work I spent most of the day in the mailroom just sorting out mail. It was a good day and it went by quickly. I don't have much else to write about. I hope all is well with everybody.
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