Love in the Midst of Struggle

Creating is a strange process. Some days my brain is on fire and I can't write fast enough to fill the page. Other days the words are dragged from my head kicking and screaming. Lately, I've had quite a few of the later.

It's a frustration, but it's also a beautiful thing to me sometimes. It's a sign that I, like so many in this world, struggle and falter. It's a sign that I truly am human and that in that humanity, a reflection of God, I am beautiful.

After all, isn't it those quirks of friends and family and spouses that we wonder at and revel in so many times? We see the child struggle to climb up and smile at their serious effort to emulate. We see the crayon picture of what we're told is a dragon and love the effort even more than the product.

Today, on a day when I see my failures all around, I need to remember that I, child of God, am seen as beautiful in my journey... as beautiful in my brokenness.

Why don't we give each the gift of that love in brokenness more often?

When Few Things Are Certain

I forget her name or the town she lives in. She was the side-story in another political campaign feature program on the radio and I was in my car. But what struck me about her story was the commitment and love for other people she has lived out. Person after person shared how she made a difference in her small diner in a rundown part of town. "No business has been so committed to the neighborhood," one man said. "She made me wash her windows and taught me to start a business that kept me out of gangs," another shared.

And tonight as I prepare to encourage people in our community of faith to love more, I wonder if the same can be said of us. Will Jesus' love be proved to be in my life through the fruit of my efforts? Will our small groups and friends make long-term investment in people a priority? Or will we let new trends, new plans and new ambitions distract us from the people we claim Jesus cares about?

Let's be honest. I don't care about your non-profit, your strategy or your grand vision to build a nation-wide program. Jesus was a lot more concerned about the widow who gave two pennies than the temple's longevity. Is there a cause or program that's blinding you to the people in need next door? It's a hard question for me to face up to I know.

When Few Things Are Certain

The clouds have been gray and heavy this week. It's a blessing after weeks of 100-degree and 90-degree weather in a sea of asphalt. Weather has always fascinated me. It's one of those things in life that we have little direct control over. It comes. It goes. It radically reshapes life in a moment.

My life feels just as uncertain sometimes these days. I know I have two hands to help people. I know I'm trying to act wisely to serve people. But I can't predict how the lives of these people that I talk to each day will change. I have great, tested faith that my writing produces change a world away a year at a time. But even that requires a good measure of faith in God that good will result from our most diligent efforts.

It reminds me of friends I wrote about today. In the southern reaches of their country, they currently are far from the war and fighting that tore their lives apart for decades. But in 3 short years, they know that the fighting will very likely return. The temporary peace will shatter. When? How? Few are certain.

What wisdom does a man in that community have to share with me at this time in life? What insight does a life full of few certainties but dread have for me? Some days I wish I could ask. Till then, God provides and I receive the crumbs from a master's table that sustain a life full of blessing.

The Beauty of Hope

I've lived in the world of non-profits for most of my life, so I know how important it is to tell the story of success and progress. I know how important it is to illustrate real change resulting from one's work.

But tonight as thoughts swirl, I reflect on the beauty of the "almost."

In the almost, we see what could be.
In the almost, we see something greater than here.
In the almost, we see the seeds of something that could change everything.

And I tend to think that many folks need that "almost" almost as much as they need the dreamed of thing to happen. They need that belief that something greater is to come and be energized to act in a way that accentuates the beauty of what is to come.

It could be why we so often show pictures of the runner breaking the tape, of football players making the catch and olympians straining to win. For a moment, we join with them in their passion and desire. For a moment, we are longing for something together. The gold medal, the award, the trophy... they'll come soon enough. For now, we are hoping for the almost that is just out of reach... and it's amazing.

When will we start teaching Guatamalan Spanish?

This morning I had the privilege of listening to a Mayan man from Guatamala who was sharing about the positive changes he's seeing in his community. Husbands are showing their wives more respect. Local leaders are respecting the value of indigenous languages.

So when I stumbled across babbel [via] (a web language learning program) today, I was already thinking about the multitude of languages out there. "Oh, they teach Spanish, French, Italian... but wait... what kind of Spanish do they teach?"

Certainly there is a growing recognition that major languages (including English) have very different expressions in different countries. You can search for "learn Latin American Spanish" and hit a few resources. But search for "learn Guatamalan Spanish" and the results are pretty sparse save for opportunities in Guatamala.

It's not a matter of right and wrong, but I look forward to an ever-growing recognition that we live in a complex world with many beautiful languages and styles of speaking those languages--all of great value.

Forward with hope

30 years ago
I entered the world
God was kind

29 years ago
I began the life of a pastor's son in a church community I still love
God was kind

25 years ago
I slept on a rug in Mrs. Landau's class
God was kind

20-some years ago
I realized how much I loved writing in English class
God was kind

12 years ago
I served people on the streets of Chicago
God was kind

8 years ago
I walked across the stage, name in hat
God was kind

7 years ago
I showed up with two bags in California to help people translate the Bible
God was kind

6 years ago
I met amazing friends who I welcomed newcomers with
God was kind

4 or so years ago
I traveled the desert with my mother, a Camry, a roof-top carrier and tires that didn't make it
God was kind

3 or so years go
I found another part of my family through a pastel website
God was kind

1 or so years ago
I learned the encouragement of serving those in need
God was kind

1 or so years ago
Some folks thought I should be given the gift of ordination
God was kind

Today, this journey may end. Each day I've lived I've tried to remember it may be my last. But God is kind and has provided what I've needed this far. And till that time when life is over I pray I'll have a bit more energy to help a few more people.

Saying goodbye...

It's one of the hardest parts of my week. Each weekend, I pull up to the shelter and my friend and I spend the last few minutes of our conversation saying as many encouraging things as I can. Meanwhile, my heart is breaking... again.

I've spent many days in the past few years trying to help friends in need. Some are clearly in physical or emotional need. Some have needs that are hidden a bit deeper. Sometimes my efforts are well-appreciated. Sometimes outsiders seem quick to judge what they perceive as my lack of truly caring.

My friend is a special case. I've walked a long ways with him and he's taught me things even in the midst of his struggles. Many nights I want to skip all the red tape and let my friend crash on the futon in my living room. A softer bed, a bit more freedom and a stress-free environment--these golden things I so often take for granted--they are denied him regularly. And when it's all written out on paper, it's clear I can't change that right now.

But every weekend we sit facing each other, pouring over classifieds, worries, want ads and questions about God. And on those days I try to do the impossible, praying all the while. At each corner, we face the problems together and it seems we barely keep pace.

This past week I sat with another friend and I realized just how hard this has been personally. It's like seeing my brother in pain and being unable to end it. It's a regular, emotional struggle that I keep giving to God in prayer.

Some days that encourages me.

Some days I'm desperate for it to end for both of us.