A Processional

Tonight the thoughts won't let me ignore them.  Tonight the words demand to be written, the feelings demand to be felt, the thoughts demand to be heard.

I've never been good at handling my emotions.  It turns out I only have two settings concerning emotions- Feel EVERYTHING deeply, or Feel NOTHING at all. I recognize that's not healthy.  I'm working on it.

When I left Malawi, There was too much to just feel nothing, but I also didn't have the capacity to handle everything.  So I stuffed a lot of things away somewhere and planned to come back to them when I was in a slightly less terrible state of mind. I do understand that processing is important, and I really did intend to come back and work through some things.  But my state of mind took a real long time to stabilize (as in, it still hasn't) and free time lasted too long and then not long enough, and...well, I still haven't found all those things I stuffed away.  Sometimes they find me.

This week, they're everywhere.  Emotions popping up out of nowhere, with a ferocity I am not accustomed to. One I do not appreciate.  (ha)  

This week, I'm hurting.  And I don't know how to process it all.  And some things I don't have the liberty of sharing. But tonight, I'm processing.  Just a little.

So tonight, I choose to feel. Tonight, I hurt.

I hurt for a friend who lost a job, a friend, and nearly her daughter.

I hurt for a mother whose son was shot and killed by a Ferguson police officer.

I hurt for the family of a Ferguson police officer whose life was destroyed by his work.

I hurt for a community who sees no hope.

I hurt for friends whose newly adopted child cannot yet love them.

I hurt for a child who has been without a family for so long.

I hurt for the woman who wants friends so desperately she chases them all away.

I hurt for the wife and 5 children of a man who was killed for illegally selling cigarettes.

I hurt for a nation who is at a loss.

I hurt because texts between continents cannot adequately express love.

I hurt because my dearest friends are spread between continents and countries and states.

I hurt because hurting is okay.  Because Jesus also hurts.  Because he is near to the brokenhearted. Because so many others around the world are hurting.  Because children are hungry and orphaned. Because mothers cannot support their children.  Because fathers don't know how to father.  Because families are broken, and nations are divided.  Because the color of a man's skin is still more weighty than his character. Because people are mean. Because hearts are dark. Because we are fallen.

Tonight on my way home, I saw Christmas lights.  And I was reminded that even though it doesn't look a lot like Christmas in my heart right now, Christmas has come. A Saviour is born.  God with us. Immanuel.

So tonight, I hope.

Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus!

born to set thy people free

from our fears and sins release us,

let us find our rest in thee. 

Israel's strength and consolation,

hope of all the earth thou art;

dear desire of every nation,

joy of every longing heart. 

Counting

August 4, 2011, I saw my African home for the first time.

October 8, 2011 there was a rat in our toilet.  Some nice college guys came to rescue us from the rat, and on my way back up campus, I met them. Ndaba, Zach, Owen, and Andrew. ("I don't think that's the same Andrew.") (It wasn't.)

Invitations were extended.

5 hours later, a pizza party.

1053 days ago.

About 600 days later, we said goodbye, desperately hoping it wasn't for long, but not quite sure what the future held.

178 days after that, I watched him walk off a plane in Columbus, MS.

Our story is one full of numbers.  Ironic, for such a lover of language.


14 days ago he asked me to be his wife.

4 days ago he got back on a plane to Malawi.

110 days til I see him again.

226 days til we meet in Malawi again.

4 excruciating goodbyes down, one to go.

3 Visa Applications.

7 time zones.

Countless plane rides.

Innumerable text messages.

Thousands of dollars.

339 days until the goodbyes stop, and we get to be a family.

339 days until we actual live in the same place.

339 days...

IF the paperwork goes through.  IF the government says it's okay.  IF we don't have any typos.  IF we can afford all the fees.  IF we have the timing right.  IF the wait isn't longer than planned.  IF the interviews go well.  IF....IF....IF.

The if's are killing me right now.

I know there are lots of happy things to be said about trusting God and His timing and I just want to ask, when was the last time you planned a wedding with no guarantee you'll even be in the same country for it? Knowing you'll only get 6 weeks together, 6 months before-hand.  Knowing you can go see him, but he can't come see you after that.  Praying he'll be on the flight back with you, 2 months before the wedding, but knowing that won't be a given until it actually happens.  Spending money on "Save-the-dates" and Invitations hoping there will be a groom present!  Wondering if you should reserve two dates, just in case?

Anxiety threatens to overcome me at any moment.  It's a new feeling for me.  It doesn't reconcile so nicely with this new ring on my finger.

And sometimes, you don't need advice.  Sometimes you don't need well-meaning reassurances. Sometimes, you just need a hug.  Or a cry.  Or a coke.  Or a friend.  Sometimes you just need to turn the numbers into words, so that they aren't so strange and scary.  So sometimes, you write.

Do I know anyone who can?

I read an article today about teaching, and about how there's always something else to be done- there's never a feeling at the end of a week/month/semester/year of "Man, I did a great job. We did everything we needed to do, and I gave everyone what they needed to succeed." Boy, can I relate to that.  And it came on the tail of a message from one of my students, asking if I could help his older brother (another of my students).

So there's this one thing that's been a continuous burden to me since I returned home from teaching in Malawi.  I know that I did a lot of great things, but I know that there were a lot of gaping holes in my self-designed curriculum and impartation of knowledge.  I also know that since I've come home, I haven't been nearly as involved in the lives of these young friends/family whom I love dearly and helped along their way.

To elaborate, I'd like to tell you a story.

Imagine for a moment, that you're a 17 year old guy, who is a citizen of a little-known African country.  You spent some time growing up in some first world nations, and most of your friends are wealthy.  Many of them are American, but some of them are from the same country as you, or a number of other European, African, or Asian nations.  Your family is well educated, and spent years working hard to ensure that they allowed you the privilege of a great education, knowing how important it is.  As a result, you don't get to see your parents as much as you'd like, but you recognize their sacrifice is for your sake.  You're the oldest of your family, so you feel responsible for your younger siblings.  In fact, you're one of those rare children- wise beyond your years- who is burdened by your duty to your family and friends.  You love deeply, and know that you need to do well in school to ensure you can get into a good college and return that support, as well as fulfil your own dreams.  You've grown up in a world that encourages you to dream big- you can do anything if you work hard enough!  Your English is perfect.  You're at the top of your class.  All of your friends are receiving their acceptance letters to universities, planning to move to other countries to live with family and pursue a college degree, and the future they've been promised.  You apply to some big schools in several countries, and slowly the acceptance letters roll in.  You've even qualified for a few scholarships!  Graduation day comes, and you're awarded top honors in your class.  You know at this point, that the only path forward that will honor your family's sacrifice, that will fulfil your potential, that will be true to who you are, is college in America.  It's your only goal, your only dream.  And then the reality of your financial situation hits you.  You have no family in the states willing to sign affidavits of support, or sponsor student visas, or let you live in their garage for a while.  Your best hope is the help of your friends and teachers who are back in the states, who have moved into a new phase of life already.  You know you can't ask them to pay for your schooling.  You recognize college is expensive, and you recognize you can't ask someone random to support you through this.
What do you do?
Where do you turn?
What happens when your world is crumbling and you're powerless to change it.
You see the time slipping away.
You feel the weight of expectations falling on you.
You can't really remember anymore exactly what you thought would happen, but this isn't it.
What do you do?

This is where I am.  I get emails, I get messages, I get pleas from younger siblings to help their big brother accomplish his dream.
"What if everyone in your church gave like $10, Miss O? Could that at least help him pay for a year of community college?"
"Miss O, couldn't you ask people to help?"
"What can we do, Miss O?"

I've told people for years that I believe in the power of words.  I believe that words can change things.  If you know me, you know I'm a cynic. You know I have a hard time holding up hope when circumstances look dismal. I'm a realist. I tell him I can't help, because my own finances are shambles, and that I don't know who can.

But is that true?  I mean, can I not do something?  Do I really not know ANYONE who would be willing to take a little risk for an amazing kid who definitely deserves this chance?  Do I not know ANYONE who works for a college who could help make things happen?  Do I not know ANYONE who cares?

Well... you tell me.  Do I know someone who can help?

Shaming No

I read this wonderful lady's blog on how it's okay to say no, (she wrote it a year ago, but somehow I stumbled upon it today) and it brought me back to a question I've mulled over for the past 6 years or so.  See, I know it's okay to say no.  I'm actually pretty good at saying no.  I'm even better at telling other people to say no.  But in a Southern society that is really really good at shaming you while smiling and pretending they're concerned, I'm constantly battling to balance the "just say no" and the "make people happy" battles raging within me.

So here's my question for you:  Is it REALLY okay to say no?  And if so, why do I feel so much judgement when I do?

I'm gonna give you a couple scenarios to help explain what I mean.

1. When I first came back from Malawi, I wasn't attending a Sunday School class, because I wasn't ready for that kind of commitment, social event, depth, etc.  But when people asked if I wanted to come to Sunday School with them and I said "No," I was often met with some very confused and offended people.  Even though I tried very hard to say no politely.

2. I agreed to teach a class that I didn't really want to teach, because there was no one else to do it.  Now that I'm attending a different church, and another capable leader has stepped in, I'd like to relinquish those responsibilities and serve at the church I'm attending in ways that suit my personality/gifts better.  I'll admit that I haven't had the chance to sit down and explain this entire situation to everyone involved, but when I mention leaving, the response is all about guilt and shame.

3. I'm invited to a church-related party.  I'd rather have a date night with my boyfriend. If I simply choose the more appealing option, is that okay?

4. I HATE how busy I stay on Sundays.  If I don't attend church on Sunday nights, is that wrong?  Is it okay to want time to myself or with my family or my significant other, instead of having another time of corporate worship?  Is it okay to attend a mid-week Bible Study instead of Sunday night church?

5.  Is it okay to say "No, I don't want to serve in that way" if I AM serving in other needed ways?

6. Is it okay that I don't really have high ambitions for my life?  Okay, this is a little unrelated. But it does involve saying no.  Because people always want to know if I want to move up in my job, take on more responsibilities, become more important, etc.  What if I don't?  What if I really do just want the job that involves answering phones?  Who are you to tell me that's unambitious?  Who are you to tell me I should want more?  Why should I be ashamed of my current lack of work-related ambitions, when I have high ambitions for my relationships, spiritual life, etc?

 Is it okay to say "no" even if it's church? Even if it's good stuff happening?  When presented with two options, is it okay to choose the one that makes ME happy, rather than the one I know I'll be shamed for if I skip?  Do I have to explain these choices?  Is it okay to remain misunderstood?  Is it okay to know people are going to be upset and do nothing about it?  Where are the lines in saying "no"?

I want input on this.  Seriously.  Discuss, please. Give me thoughts and answers.  Argue with me.  Agree with me.  Shame me so I can use you as an example! ;)  Just kidding.