3 Challenges: A Response to Political Unrest in the United States

 

Wisconsin is beautiful right now. We've had several days of foggy mornings that freeze into frosty afternoons. The whole neighborhood for miles looks like Narnia. It's a harsh contrast to the ugly realities (and fantasies) we're living with. I find myself in a similar situation to last spring. I don't have anything to say regarding specific policies, parties, or politicians. I have lots of opinions (anyone who knows me knows that I have many, many opinions on many, many things). However I think the last thing the world needs right now is one more political opinion. 

I have three challenges for you. 

1) Listen. 

Listen to your enemies. Listen to the idiots on Facebook. If you are on the right, listen to the left. If you are on the left, listen to the right. If you love Trump, consider why people hate him. If you hate Trump, consider why people love him. If you are white, listen to the black voices. If you are religious, listen to atheistic and agnostic voices. Listen to the conspiracy theorists. Hear out our fellow Americans no matter how wrong or misguided or terrifying or outrageous you think they are. You don't have to agree. It is possible to listen and to care enough to hear while being 100% opposed to someone's views. Hate injustice. Hate stupidity. Don't hate each other. Don't use someone else's mistakes or wrongdoing to excuse your own wrong behavior. Again for the people in the back: Stop using other people's behavior as an excuse! This is only ever going to get worse unless we choose to be the bigger person. 

It is easy to be outraged. It is easy to feel good about getting angry and passionate about a topic in the name of truth and justice. It is so much harder and more powerful to listen with compassion. 

Believe it or not - none of us are right about everything! There are many beliefs I hold that I am wrong about. I will change many of my beliefs in the following years of my life. Heck, I've changed many of my beliefs in the last twelve months. 

I'm still working on this. I am more prone to talking about myself than actively listening to the people around me, but I'm learning to change my own heart and hold space for the people around me. 

2) Do Something

Do something for the community. Maybe that means staying home, wearing a mask (even if you don't personally feel like you should). Maybe you donate time or money to a charity. Maybe you buy coffee for someone or write a loving letter to a friend you haven't seen. 

We are full of opinions and heated emotions. Fear and doubt and anger are racing through our veins. It is time to put that emotion to a useful purpose. Let's take all the time we spend writing political Facebook posts and Instagram stories and start writing letters to our politicians, praying, buying from local businesses, or buying food for families who are struggling. 

We need each other. We need to support and actively love each other. If you care about a political issue, take productive action that does not result in destruction or death. Take action that lifts us up as a nation. 

3) Choose A Childlike Joy

Joy is not determined by circumstances. No one and nothing can make us feel anything that we don't choose to feel. It's okay to be angry and sad and devastated and exhausted and everything else that we have felt in the last year or so. Joy and sadness can coexist. You can be pissed off and still take a moment to recognize the comfort of a warm blanket or the beauty of frost. 

One of the hard things about wearing masks and being socially distant is the effect it has on the development of young children. In Psychology we learned about "critical periods". There are certain times in our development during which we need to experience certain stimuli in order to develop properly. The next generation may struggle with communication for many years. Despite this, I find comfort whenever I see young children. They feel the effect of the stress and trauma in the environment, but like my hazy 9/11 memories, they will only vaguely remember these events. When I encounter young children, I am stuck by how carefree and joyful they are. They don't fully understand what is going on, and they are still learning and growing and finding joy. 

We aren't going to be able to forget what has happened and is still happening, but join me in taking a few moments every day to find joy in the little things. The pandemic and unrest will still be there. On the flipside, no amount of stress and frustration will make it go away. So find joy. Covid-19 could kill you, but stress will kill you. Cortisol significantly shortens lifespans. So choose to look at the world through the eyes of a child, just for a few moments. 

The Joy of the Lord is my Strength: T1D, 2020, and the Internship of my Dreams

[I found this post wasting away in my drafts. It was written in October, but it's far too meaningful to leave unpublished. This reflection on 2019 and 2020 seems well suited to the New Year season.]

"I will praise You on the mountain

And I will praise You when the mountain's in my way

You're the summit where my feet are

So I will praise You in the valleys all the same."

~ Highlands (Song of Ascent) by Hillsong

This year has been full of change and challenges. My heart is torn between the greatest joy I have ever experienced, and the pain I see in the world around me. I arrived in Bend, Oregon on May 29th. The ranch is far beyond my expectations. 

Last fall, I was full of fear and despair. Medical bills and car loans combined with missing college classes left me feeling desperately unstable. I was not allowed to take a horse training class because I wasn't good enough at riding. My safety was threatened without transportation and finances. My reputation was threatened by falling grades. My emotional, spiritual, and physical health failed.

In the chaos, I realized that despite calling myself a Christian for many years, I did not trust God at all in my day to day life. Every decision was made by my own will, sustained by my own strength. The result: a life dictated by the fear of shame, rejection, and abandonment. As events outside of my control ripped away the trophies I had collected, my heart found itself experiencing all of it's worst fears. 

This realization guided me through the next few months. 2020 barraged us all with uncertainty, fear, and chaos. The threat of illness, financial instability, confinement assaulted my community in March. For me, this challenge was coupled with watching my boyfriend ship away to boot camp, with no idea when I will be able to see him again. Because of my prior experiences, I chose to respond to all the fear and uncertainty with faith and praise. The songs Keep Making Me by Sidewalk Prophets and The Shepherd of My Soul by Rivers and Robots became my anthems. Instead of living by my own strength, I surrendered everything for perhaps the first time in my entire life. I began using the phrase "Lord willing" unironically. 

You know what happened next. While I was learning to trust God in my every day mundane activities, my body began to fail. From sometime in February or Match until the end of April, I experienced worsening symptoms that I could not explain. The spit in my mouth dried up. I drank over a gallon of water a day, peeing at least once an hour. I was overwhelmed with fatigue and apathy. I felt extremely weak. My eyesight became blurry. I lost twenty pounds, nine of them in one week. I was admitted to the hospital in diabetic ketoacidosis. I've already described that experience in more detail here. 

The peace I experienced in the hospital was unlike anything I have ever experienced before. The events of October seem so small compared to my diagnosis, yet my response to them was so much more dramatic. The difference? Faith. Resting in the truth that my life does not rely on my own strength or my own worth. I can't heal a broken finger, fix my financial problems, stop a global pandemic, cure my incurable disease, solve racial injustice, stop devastating floodwaters, or earn my own worth. I can choose to praise the God who can do all of those things - whether he chooses to do so or not. 

That brings me to these five glorious months. I thank God everyday for the food and insulin I need to survive one more day. Life after diagnosis is full of joy I can only attempt to explain. What kind of love would care so deeply for me? What kind of love would die for me? What kind of love would provide everything I need and so many wonderful things that I don't? What kind of love would work in every part of my life, weaving together a beautiful work of art despite my shame, fear, anger, and pride? Only Jesus offers satisfaction that cannot be taken away. Only the Lord of Hosts offers love that cannot be earned. The joy I have in him is enough to carry me through the rest of my life. I cannot keep from praising him, even if I tried. 

I love the story of Gideon in Judges 6 and 7. God called Gideon to free Israel from the Midianites. Gideon gathered 32,000 men to fight an army "as numerous as sand on the seashore". It looked impossible. But God sent back the 22,000 men who were afraid. Then he sent back another 700 men. God made the task even more impossible, so that when the victory was won, no one could claim that they won by their own strength.

In October, I didn't want to apply for the internship because I didn't believe that I could get to Oregon. God's response was similar to the story of Gideon. He made the dream so much more unattainable and brought me this far anyway.