Try that in a small town?

Bloody Sunday, March 7, 1965 in Selma, Alabama

Circleville, OH. Population 14,106 (2021). A small town with a history, not unlike many others throughout small-town America. Mom ‘n Pop shops, quiet sleepy streets, and kids playing baseball or fishing in the pond. There are some good things about living in a small town, for sure. But….not for everyone.

July 4th, 1965 2023, Jadarrius Rose, an unarmed black man, fearing for his life as his truck was surrounded by an army of police with guns drawn, calls 911 asking for help. “Do what the officers are telling you to do,” he is told by dispatch. “I don’t feel safe,” he responds. “I don’t know why they’re trying to kill me.” Mr. Rose stopped his truck initially, but fearing for his life with multiple guns pointed at him, he pulled away in his truck and called 911. Tell me, what would you have done? Chances are, if your pigment is lighter than a skinny caramel macchiato, you’d stop the truck, give them your license, and be on your way. “Have a nice day, officer.” Unfortunately, Jadarrius has more of a dark-roast pour over look to him, and given our nation’s history of police violence, and violence in general toward people of color, I can’t say I blame him one bit. I’d be scared to death, too. And so would you. Honestly, I can’t even imagine what was going through that poor man’s mind.

The dispatcher convinced him to stop the truck and get out. With his hands in the air, unarmed, surrendering, the officer in charge of the k-9 unit released his dog with a command to attack. The trained police dog bit, mauled, and dragged down an unarmed man standing with his hands in the air. I’ve seen the video. It’s disgusting. These things happen in big cities and they happen in small towns, too. There is hatred and violence, racism, and oppression. We need more love and less hate. More kindness and less violence. We need more people to speak out against the racist history of our country and seek restoration, rather than defending their rights to guns and vigilantism. Perhaps there is more to this story and Mr. Rose could have done something different that would have avoided the escalation but again, can you blame him? After watching people of color be beaten, harassed, tased, shot, or choked out in the streets over and over again, what would you do?

This story, like so many others, breaks my heart and compels me to speak out for love, peace, justice, and unity. I hope it does the same for you. This is what we as humans need to fight for. This is “loving your neighbor”. Peace.

Lessons in Oreos

Two chocolate wafers. Sweet, creamy filling. Twist it apart and dunk it in milk until it soaks in. Just before it crumbles, pop the whole thing in your mouth and enjoy. Then repeat the process multiple times. Who doesn’t love an oreo cookie? Well, when I was a kid I hated oreos. It may have something to do with my grandma who was a stickler about being proper. Absolutely couldn’t dip your cookies in milk and definitely weren’t going to “play” with your food by twisting it apart. I mean, what did she think was going to happen? We’d be licking the cream filling out of an oreo one day, and the next we’d be knocking over a bank, still with that sweet cream filling stuck to our fingers? But in her house, rules were rules. Nobody even questioned what grandma had to say…..until my wife came along. I think our oldest daughter was just about a year old when she was enjoying her first oreo cookie at great-grandma’s house. “Now, we don’t twist them apart. Eat like a nice girl,” Grandma said (or something to that effect). My wife…..I love her…..responded without hesitation, “She’s just fine. She can eat it however she wants.” For only being 4’11”, Grandma sure could carry a grudge for the next decade or so. Anyway, back to the oreos. I grew up eating all kinds of junk food. We always had cookies in the house, twinkies, ding-dongs, ho-hos, all the “good” stuff. And we always had a package of oreos, but I wouldn’t touch them. “No thanks, I don’t like oreos,” I would always say as I go for some other sweet in the cupboard. Seems like an appropriate response when being offered something you don’t like, but there was just one problem. I had never, not once in my life, eaten an oreo. I don’t know why but something inside me had decided I didn’t like them without even taking a bite. Doesn’t that seem dumb?

No doubt you were much smarter than me as a child, and likely still are today, but I wonder if you’re at all like me. Have you ever decided you didn’t like something, or someone, before you even gave it a try? I think sometimes in life we can be very quick to decide we don’t like something that we don’t understand. Maybe it’s just me? I can remember saying that I hated algebra. There’s nothing innately wrong with algebra that it should elicit this kind of hatred from me at all. The problem was that I didn’t understand it, so I just decided to hate it instead. Have you seen this in political discussions? Racial relations? Religious arguments or ideological debates? It’s often much easier to just dismiss someone as “ignorant” than to actually take the time to know them, hear them, and respect their thoughts (even if you disagree).

Looking back, I regret missing out on all those oreos I could have enjoyed as a child. Although they would have had to be eaten dry and intact, I would have enjoyed something sweet and wonderful if I would have allowed myself to experience that fabulous mixture of white and chocolate deliciousness. As I continue to age, I hope to keep learning to have an open mind about things, people, cultures, and ideas that are different than me. There is so much beauty and goodness in this world for us to enjoy if we will simply open our hearts and minds to receive it.

Is there something or someone that perhaps you could open your heart to today and discover the goodness that you’ve been missing out on?

Making peace with your self

An anxious and shell-shocked heart beats in the chest of humanity, war-torn by a world bent on destroying it’s very will to live. Thriving doesn’t even feel like an option to a soul just gasping for oxygen. In the dark depths of our human existence the thought of true peace on earth seems like a foggy dream that has no chance at reality. Unless there be internal peace that settles the chaos in our post-traumatized minds and hearts, we will never know real peace on our planet or in our communities. To know your self and your divine creator, to dig to the center, to the very core of your being and discover peace within your own soul, that is the first, brave step on this painful and violent journey toward peace on earth.

It’s easy to slip into an intellectual coma and assume the “you” that people see is an accurate reflection of your true self. We can become so comfortable in the masquerade we forget about the reality that lies beneath the surface. Believe me, I know. I’ve lived it, and that life is miserable. Hell, I still have moments and days that I live it now, probably more than I know. It can be scary to take off the mask and be exposed for who you really are. It feels vulnerable and uncomfortable. This is why, as Brene’ Brown says, it takes courage to be vulnerable.

Allow yourself the freedom to be honest and vulnerable. Find out what really makes you tick. What gets you going or shuts you down? What biases may be stowed away in the back of your mind? Find out what fears may be holding you back in life or where you are harboring hate towards anyone. Discover what you believe and why you believe it. Be willing to dig and be a little uncomfortable. Search the dark corners of your mind and let it all be exposed, naked and raw before God. Then, with all the shrapnel of your life laid bare, hear the words of your creator say, “I love you!”. Now, let your soul be at peace and spread that love to everyone you meet. This will be the beginning of peace on earth.

Real life living

When I was a kid, we used to joke that my mom’s workouts were just sitting, watching exercise videos. She didn’t actually do any exercise at all, but just watched the videos. There is something in us that can believe that if we think about something, we’re actually doing it. Or we may even go a step further and buy a new pair of running shoes so we think we’re becoming healthier, but if those shoes are just collecting dust in the closet you haven’t actually done anything. I was noticing recently as I was mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, that I can start to believe I am actually living a life of love and justice simply by following other accounts of people who are living lives of love and justice. Then I realized that perhaps some of those people aren’t actually even living lives of love and justice, but only talking and writing about living a life of love and justice. I have to admit, I was extremely troubled in my soul. As I pondered, trying to reconcile all these things in my brain, I considered that perhaps I should get off social media altogether, and learn to focus my energy on actually living the life I want to live. Then it occurred to me (true story), if I go off social media, how is anyone going to know if I’m living a life of love and justice? That convicting reality pounded me in the face like Mike Tyson. I was more concerned with appearing to live the life, than actually living it at all. Ouch!

Perhaps you can relate in some way, or maybe you’re just a way better human than me, which is entirely probable. Regardless, there is a deep longing inside of us that desires to be loved and accepted, so we put on our best self, post our best selfie, and portray the image we think people will accept and appreciate. There is however something even deeper, and more real in us than our self-centered insecurities. There is a unique beauty inside each on us, as we were made in the image of our creator. Each of us has an immeasurable value and is worthy of love, kindness, and respect simply because we are creations of the divine. There is freedom in this truth as we discover we don’t have to try to be something, but we get to just be. Live in the present moment. Embrace who you are and know that you are enough. Love the ones around you. And don’t waste your life trying to earn the love of anyone. Be yourself; the beautiful, confident, imperfect but wonderfully made human that you are. That is the person that the world really needs to be present and living fully alive.

What would you do?

I close my eyes and like a dream, I see myself standing in our living room, my family all around. I’m sweating as my heart races to find strength and courage. Fear and faith battle for position on my wife’s face as she looks to me for reassurance. Our kids have heard the rumors, although they don’t really know what it means, or who “they” are that is coming. Just a few short miles away, people were killed in the street. I don’t know why, nobody does. Where else could we go? This is our home. We’re surrounded by friends and family, neighbors and community. Our churches, schools, and jobs are here. This is our world, our life. Then as I try to calm the family and hold my kids close to settle their fear, an explosion shakes the walls of our cozy, little house. A family picture falls from the wall and shatters on the floor. I see the glass in a million pieces, but the family still intact. I know what we have to do. Leave the framework of our life behind to keep the family safe and together. “Everyone pack a bag,” I say with as much confidence as I can find. We only have minutes to get out. They might already have the roads blocked. I don’t know where to go but we have to try to find refuge somewhere. Life as we knew it is over.

This image I have described has probably played out in a similar way thousands of times just in my lifetime. The details of families fleeing war and violence around the world are I’m sure much more intense and dramatic than my privileged, suburban mind can imagine, and I can’t even fathom actually having to choose to leave everything behind to protect my family from certain oppression and likely death. I don’t know what I would do, but it makes me think about how I look at the ones who have had to make that choice. It makes me think about how to view them, as humans that deserve to be loved and respected, welcomed and comforted. Moms and dads, brothers and sisters, all seeking refuge for a better life with peace and joy. Loving our neighbor carries no prerequisite of them having proper immigration papers, or if they are educated, speak our language, or will be a “productive member of society”. We love them as humans, created in the image of God.

This is something I wrestle with. Here in small-town Oregon, we are so far removed from the plight of millions throughout the world. We have our nicely fenced yards, instagram-worthy vacations, and an abundance of comfort and freedom that is easy to take for granted. But what if that all went away? What if we were the ones facing a military coup, widespread famine, or a bloody civil war? What would we do? Who would we turn to for help. What if the wall was no longer to keep others out, but to keep us in? How would our perspective change, and would we consider ourselves as “illegal” if we tried to flee to safety with our family? Consider these things when you hear the stories of refugees. Think about what they may have been through and put yourself in their shoes for a moment. How would you want to be treated after fleeing for your life and the safety of your family? I don’t know about you, but I would want to be seen as a human, worthy to be loved with compassion and kindness. And let’s pray we never have to find out what we would do if we were in their shoes.