I am not white.

Today, we had the area director for northern spokane come to our Young Life class, his name is James Jones, and he came to talk about multicultural ministry. He’s also this 240 pound black man. He talked about a lot of things, and one of the activities he had us do, was he had a list of 40 “indicators for success”, the more things on the list that you have, the more likely you are to succeed in life. They were also things that would typicially happen in a middle-upper class family. (my interpretation). Just to reiterate, I go to Whitworth College, a private school in Spokane WA thats pretty homogenously white upper class.

james started reading off the list, and for every thing he said that you identified with, you would take a step forward. everyone went pretty far across the floor. one guy had 39/40.

i didn’t. it kind of made me laugh though, because for a while, i’ve just been wanting to proclaim to the world “look at Me. I am different. see Me, who I am” and then tonight, I didn’t take as many steps as basically everyone else in the room. I went to a high school where the majority of people spoke a different language than i speak in my home, the majority of the teachers were a different color than me. my grocery store (by my house) doesn’t sell my favorite kinds of food (all things hispanic). and all these things.

And afterwards, it hit me. I am ME. I am who I have chosen to be, and I am beautiful in Christ. But I got to make those choices, I got to choose to live the way that I did in High School, and I loved it. But at the same time, with the society the way it is, that social mobility doesn’t exist for all social classes. its so ridiculous how many stereotypes and thoughts that you don’t even think exist, but they do.

James gave us a list of scripture, and one stuck out at me. Galatians 3:28 “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus”

And thus, starting today, I am not white any more. I refuse to let a stupid thing that i have no control over control what people think of me. I will not think of all Whitworth people as stupid upper class ignorant fools because they are white. (yes, i was getting to that point in my head). I will hang out with people who have a global perspective in life, because I like to find out more things in the world. I will drink wine with the international students, relaxing listening to reggae, not because i think i have to to fit in (i don’t. at all) but because thats what I want to do. because I think that is a part of the future Me.

I will stop wishing I was Hispanic. I will stop wishing I was African, I will stop wishing I had dated Josh so I would appear more multicultural. I will stop trying to reclassify what “white” means in the context of myself.

I will be Me. and I don’t even know who that is yet. but sometimes I have a vague inkling. And I will be Loved and Accepted by the people who matter. And I will love irregardless. I will love extravagently. I will love radically. but most importantly, I will love.

Shaine Claiborne

Tonight, I left my Leadership Development in Ministry class early, well, we did as a large group, and we went to the packed multipurpose room in the HUB, to hear Shaine Claiborne speak. He was this amazing speaker. it just made you smile, listening to him. I love hearing passionate people speak, you can just hear it in their voices.

I almost wish i had taken notes, because sitting here, i’m at a loss at where to begin. or even exactly what he said. he talked about his time in Iraq. He went with a team of doctors, nurses, and other people, to tell Iraqis, that not all Americans support their lives being bombed. That some Americans believe in love, above “patriotism” and “freedom”. that love wins. They were in Baghdad, and the US would bomb every night. They would go to the sites the next morning, and just try to help out, and to love on people.

Wow. I really do want to go out and change the world even more now. I kinda also want to live in  a ghetto even more now. Just for a little. Or maybe the rest of my life.

I left this post half written, and i kinda lost my train of thought and inspiration…

so hopefully i will restart writing on this more.

i kinda just stopped there for a while.

dialogue with Lindsey, (with a little artistic license that comes from deeper reflection)

What do you want most in life? what does your heart yearn for?

I want most, to live in a world, where there is no more hurt. Where I could walk out to the front door, peer out on an endless savannah, valley, ocean, or plain, and smile inside, because I would know that there was nothing out there in the world that would make my heart break any more. I want most to live in a world where people’s hearts aren’t breaking. Where children are living. Where parents aren’t being separated by an affair, a lack of mutual interest, or a deadly disease. Where kids can play and laugh and smile, without fear of anything. Where there is enough food for everyone, and no one has enough to make them hoarde more. The kingdom of heaven is now, and here, and i want it. the potential for it at least is here. I want to seek it. I want to know it.

I want to live in a house full of love and joy. Of bright vibrant colors. Of books. Of art. Of things other than plastics. I want children around, lots of them. They don’t need to all be mine, in fact I would prefer not having to give birth ten times, they can be neighbors. they can be friends. but they must be running and giggling and laughing and playing. I want them to put on plays with silly costumes. I want them to make me great artistic masterpieces. I want them to journey to far off lands and come home for dinner to tell me all about it.

I want my world to be whole. But I don’t want to live in a cocoon. I don’t want to ignore the pain and suffering that makes me cry when I see it. I cry so much more for the world around me than for myself. I think two nights ago was the first time I’ve cried for me since Christmas. I cry for poverty. I cry for broken families. I cry for African slums in pictures. I cry for injustice. I don’t cry for death. I cry for the living.

I want my life to be a garden. I want our lives to be the garden.

There has to be something that I can do. It cannot be enough for me to be happy. can it?

what do you want in a husband? do you want someone who shares your passion? or someone who stands to the side and admires it?

I want. I want.. I don’t know what I want. I want to be in control. I don’t like losing control ever. If there is not someone whom I trust implicitly watching out for me, and keeping me safe from the world but also myself, then I will revert to being in control, and guarded. I want my heart to be free because I know that it is safe. I want my husband to protect my heart, but lets it still beat, and lets it still feel, even if it hurts. I help heal through empathy. When you hurt, and you come to me, the best thing I can do for you, is empathize, and take some of your pain upon me. And sometimes it does physically hurt inside. But that is how I heal. I am a wounded healer after the heart of Donald Miller in To Own a Dragon. If we are both equally passionate, then I don’t know that I can trust him to watch over both our hearts. I want him to know my passions, and know why they are my passions, and share in them that way, yes. but i also would like him to be constant, and steady, and always trustworthy.

If you guys did end up breaking up, what would you do?

I don’t know. I really don’t know. And I don’t know who or what kind of guy I would date next. I don’t know all that many Christian men that I would want myself to marry. I don’t really trust them I don’t think. (another legacy of my father)  who would be strong enough to let me be me? who would be strong enough to protect me without being authoritarian? who would be strong enough that he wouldn’t need the “well, I’m the man in this relationship, so you should submit to me”? (sidenote-If I trusted you, then I would submit to you because I wanted your help or advice. I know I’m emotional and passionate and don’t always think things through, but that doesn’t mean that I’m stupid or unable to make intelligent decisions.) It seems like most everyone (male) that I’ve seen living or attempting to live as good little Christians, have just been boys. And the men in my life… the best Men that I have known have been blasphemous ex-marines. The worst examples? have been in the church. Barry, you don’t count for this really, because I didn’t really see you around Erin all that much, but I’ve heard you say things that proved your love for her a thousand times over. But I don’t really know how you guys work. And I dunno, I think you kinda kept the girls at arms length in Turnpike, and i never was quite sure why. Honestly, I’m more scared of a “religious” marriage, a “religious” husband, than living as an unwed mother or marrying (gasp, God forbid!) a Unitarian.

I’m not afraid of work. I’m not afraid of being poor. I’m not even afraid of being alone. I’m not afraid of living. I am afraid of forgetting. I am afraid of choosing wrong. I am afraid of being trapped.

so maybe lindsey was just the catalyst… seeing as I didn’t say most of this to her…

Here’s why I have to believe.

So I guess, the past few weeks, while I was home, I was contemplating not believing in this God guy of Christianity. I suppose some of it has to do with Stuart, but its not because he pressures me, or even has ever really said anything about it to me. I guess I just felt like it would be easier to give up the Church than Stuart. So I wouldn’t feel guilty about not feeling guilty. But I can’t. I dunno. I was skimming Blue Like Jazz last night, and Donald Miller was talking about one night it hit him that if Christianity wasn’t True, then none of the other religions were any more likely to be True. Its kinda Christ or nothing.

I looked up Unitarian Universalism on Wikipedia. And I read all about it. And it doesn’t work. I am so broken. I am so confused, crazy, emotional, and self-centered. I’m not sure that I trust myself to make a decision on what is and isn’t Truth. Alright, I guess I trust my judgement to a certain extent. (sidenote, the last spiritual gifts test I took put discernment as my number 1 gift). But who am I to make up my own religion, set of beliefs, whatever. Who would I be, to sample all the religions and just take what I like from each of them? And how does my superficial sampling show my respect for differing viewpoints? If anything it shows my irreverance for the basis of whatever faith it is. Who would I be to just take the parts that please me, that make my life easier for me?

And as I write this, I’m realizing that in my head my “return to the flocks” isn’t going to work as well as planned because I would be doing that to Christianity as well. Just taking what I like. You know?

Heres my dilema. delimma. dilemma. how do you spell that??? anyways. here it is. I like being as close to Stuart as I am right now. I like the idea of us getting married in a few years and living happily ever after. I like the idea of us just getting closer and closer and closer. Laughing and smiling all along. Going to Africa. Cooking for each other. Saving the World (one lightbulb at a time). Talking. Sewing.

Actually that in itself isnt the d-word. the unspellable d-word is that I feel like a horrible hypocrite because i don’t feel bad or guilty about my relationship with him, but i feel like i should. Because Margaret laughed when she asked how the good little Christian girl was doing at her private Christian school. Because when Stuart called Jesus “a radical lover” it was the first time I’d really thought about Him in forever. Because my roommate Kaitie is working so much harder than I am to be close to God. Because of my mother. Because my brother came to me with a spiritual problem of sorts, and I didn’t know how to answer him, at all. Because I don’t produce fruit any more. Because I’ve become raunchier, and I gossip about everything. Because I can come up with intellectual rationalizations for everything. Because I believe in theory, but its been ages since I’ve talked to my Jesus.

I have to believe in one savior named Jesus Christ, because this world would be lost forever if we didn’t have Him. Because of Donald Miller. Because of selfless love. I have to believe Him because I would die if the world couldn’t be made better. I have to believe that he Loves me, because if he didn’t love me first, I wouldn’t believe I was worthy of anyone’s love. Because when I was all alone, and wanted to die, he saved me. If it wasn’t for a living breathing working God, I would have drowned in a river, on purpose. Because if I was entirely a selfish bitch, my heart wouldn’t break for Africa. My heart wouldn’t break for educational inequalities, for economic divides, for poverty’s effects. And if this world wasn’t redeemable, theres no reason why we all wouldn’t have murdered each other before now. Because when I am good with God, I know what I’m going to do with my life (or am at peace with not knowing). Because I miss him.