Back in the saddle again!

I am back at school. I signed up to take 2 summer school courses. I finished my first about four weeks ago, and I am almost done with the second. I was a bit rusty at it, and it took me about five weeks to get used to the pace of things. It is hard but good.

For the first time in my life I am in classes where the instructors are telling us that we can make a difference, we can change the world one student at a time. How empowering is that! I am so blessed to be in these classes. It is good that I decided to take these summer school courses now, because once the semester starts it won't be as idealistic, but more nose to the grindstone. It is a two semester program and I will be taking 19 units each semester. Yikes! So pray for me whenever you think of me. I will need the support and strength. I am a little nervous, but I am motivated by the students.

Which brings me to another point. Recently people have been saying, "Wow you really have a calling to work with this population" (I am studying to be a special education teacher) I don't really know what to do with comments like that. I am frankly offended by those words. The population I am choosing to work with are people, and aren't we all called to minister to people? For this reason I find this comment confusing. In the past, society has segregated this population and banished them, and the stigma of those actions still remains. They really aren't that strange or difficult. They are just different. Trust me I have interacted with all sorts of people, and I would gladly choose to hang out with some people with disabilities over some people without disabilities.

So is this a calling? I don't know. I don't think it is any more of a calling than the same urges I feel to give money to the homeless, shelter orphans, protect the abused, heal the sick, and feed the hungry. It is a calling to love those who bear the image of God. A calling to love those He loved so dearly He willingly died for. Yes I am seeking out a degree that will equip me to work in a particular community, but I see opportunities abounding around me to love. My neighbors, my peers, my coworkers. Is this not also a calling? And I am also ready and aware that at any moment God may lead me to Africa, England, or Latin America to love on people in His name. I look forward to it! So please understand the subtle insult aimed at those with disabilities that is embedded in those words "Wow you really have a calling to work with this population". They demand no more of me and you than any other group, and they are just as precious and valued in God's eyes.

I have not been called to work with the defiled and disgusting. I have been called to love a people who are worthy to be loved and to break down the walls of banishment and segregation. Weren't we all called to this? I have been called to fight for justice and truth! And I would gladly do the same for you if ever you need it.

The Right to Flee, the Call to Stay

I have been thinking seriously about something. I read somewhere about the idea that the American dream, you know, the house, the picket fence, the family, the yard and all, that this suburban destination does not coincide with building the kingdom of God here on earth. This is a very sensitive subject. And I would imagine that many people will be offended even outraged by such a thought. I am not writing to say that I have figured it all out, but rather that I have been thinking about this, weighing its validity and wondering what God would have me do.

I believe that I have been complacent in my faith. If I truly believe that I have the truth, and heaven and hell weighs in the balance, then why am I so reticent? What do I have to fear?

I have also been thinking about the hierarchy of needs. This theory speculates that people are not capable of higher thinking (what we might call philosophical thought, philanthropic desires, and morality etc.) until their most basic needs are met, namely food, shelter, safety, a sense of belonging, and community. Aside from a miracle, and I do believe in miracles, I think there is too much hurt in my own neighborhood for people to understand and receive the truth. It is simply easier to live in the lie, to rely on survival skills rather than to face the unknown, that being a new life in Christ.

So we find ourselves in these communities with broken and hurting people who need the truth but who need healing first so they can receive that truth. But sometimes it is hard to see that side of them when they are flipping us off, or cursing at their children, when the children are more worried about seeming "cool" rather than being innocent. And how do we love them when there is so much distrust and so many walls up? How do we openly reach out when the truth is we are afraid of them? How do you make yourself vulnerable and willing to be moved by compassion without seeming weak? How did you do it Jesus? How on earth did you do it?

I am not sure if it right to leave a community for a "safer" one in the suburbs, all for the sake of providing the safest place for your family. Aren't these broken and hurting our family also? Aren't we called to love the broken and hurting? How can we do so if it takes us an hour by car to get to them? I am not suggesting that all Christians should move into downtown urban communities, nor am I denying the fact that all people in all walks of life need Christ, even the home makers in suburbia. I am just wondering where the balance is. Did God mean for us to flee? I use that word because that is what appears to be happening.

When the same thing happens in another context, there is a certain repugnance and disgust, a sense of prejudice and injustice that prevails. When "white flight" occurs I cannot help but feel outraged and frustrated by the oppressive, destructive and unspoken rules of this world. Are we guilty of the same? Have we committed "Christian flight"? Are we fleeing the the broken and lost, in search of a safer place to call home? But aren't these the ones Jesus lived with, ate with, laughed with? He was not concerned with the things of this world. He trusted in the Father for His safety, for the outpouring of love, for anointed meetings, and for all his provisions. What faith! LORD, may I too trust, truly trust in you, and may I not be swayed or tempted away from the people you love, and who need you, who desperately need you. May I not flee from those, who, though rough around the edges, were still created in your image.