Baby Steps

(Photo credit to Kathryn Lynn)

It’s so weird. I’ve made it through an entire year of college. Moved away from my family. Have begun repairing broken relationships. Redirected my entire life plan. So much has happened, and God has turned me into an entirely new, entirely better person. I am so far from “good,” much less “perfect,” but I feel closer now than I probably ever have. I finally feel like I’m heading in the right direction, even though it’s the hardest thing I’ve probably ever done. Getting thrown out of some of my closest family’s lives, continuing illness, and unsure footing have made for quite the adventure. I’m far from being “out of the woods” yet, and I’m trying to be at peace as I search for the right direction, and try to take the next baby step. I am learning that the old adage of “the more I learn, the more I learn I have to learn” is so completely true.

In about nine days I go to spend eleven weeks in inner-city Memphis building houses and building relationships. I’m terrified, and I’m excited. But my most overwhelming feeling is one embodied by a small I know this is the right thing sigh.

“My big concern is me and what do I do now until the time of my death. That is valid. That is useful. That is beautiful. That is creative. And also, I want to be free again. I want to be free like when I was a kid … Where we just had fun.”

Maurice Sendak - A true inspiration, pioneer of the everlasting spirit of childhood. Thank you, sir <3

(Source: jameshance)

Amen.

Soon the process of reconciliation will begin. I’m hurting now, but I know they’re just growing pains. I’m ready for the day I can laugh with my family again. I’m ready for them to really see Christ in this, and to know that love can truly be unconditional. I am so ready for them to understand that they don’t have to work for grace. I’m ready to see how I’m going to grow personally through this. I’m ready to see this be an example in my life for the gospel lived out.

And while it hurts right now, I know I serve the God of all comforts. The great reversal is in my favor, and I thank God for this. I thank God that I am the poor, the meek, the weak-at-heart, and the lonely. Praise the Lord for this process of growing, even though it sucks sometimes. I don’t understand why this is the only way to grow, but I accept it, and I will take what is given to me.

Family Violence

“Most serious physical violence in Atlanta and around our nation occurs in the home. It is between members of the same family, and it occurs in the evening. There is drinking involved and a weapon, usually a handgun, is used.

The violence evolves from heated arguments growing out of domestic turmoil. One half of these murders are divided evenly between husbands killing wives and wives killing husbands. The other half involves parents killing children, children killing parents, or relatives killing each other. These victims usually die from gunshot wounds.

In an attempt to curb domestic violence, the Atlanta Police Department appealed to the Family Consultation Service (our counseling ministry) and numerous pastors of city churches to provide family counseling. I immediately brought their concern before a group of innercity parents who served as part of our advisory committee.

Their response was unanimous: “We don’t want family counseling!” I could hardly believe what I was hearing. With all the bloodshed and heartache, why would they refuse help?

As I listened, I began to understand. Most families in the city are poor. They depend on government aid for survival. Each of the various agencies to which they must go for assistance—food stamps, housing, welfare, health—has staff “counselors.” For poor families, the counselor is the one who interrogates, investigates, and degrades the, Counseling is a necessary step to  endure in the punitive process of obtaining aid. “They treat us like dirt” was the phrase I kept hearing.

“What we really need is a friend who is willing to help us with some of our problems,” I heard. “like unemployment, ‘cause that’s what we mostly fight about.”

A friend, a person willing to be involved. Someone who cares more about them than about a program. That’s what they were asking for. How sad that they should make a distinction between a counselor and a friend. ”

-An excerpt from Robert Lupton’s book, Theirs is the Kingdom: Celebrating the Gospel in Urban America. 

As a social work major, one who wants to work in the inner city counseling teens and their families for addictions and violence, this short excerpt is one that hits home. It is a stark reminder to me that, above all, I simply need to be a friend. Someone who will be interested and invested in their life. I’m not there to tell them how to fix their problems—I’m there to help them find a way to affect their own situation. I’m merely there to be supportive, and to give advice. Will the advice be educated, rational, and given through the lens of a Christian heart? Yes. It will. Will I always be right? Absolutely not. But I’m going to be working for those in my community (wherever that ends up being) who are hurting and need help.

Went to ask the barista for a napkin, ended up crying on the counter. He felt bad, so he have me a free drink. Good friend. Life is going to be okay, guys. There’s still hope.