Take it to the Lord

One Sunday, my pastor said something to the effect that he spends a lot of his time in prayer telling God about his worries. I know the feeling. As soon as my head hits the pillow, I briefly give thanks and then start unloading my worries about the distressing things I hear in the news. I pray for people who are being deceived. I pray for justice. I pray that the wicked will be held to account. Night after night, I pray about my worries.

My pastor’s comment gave me pause. Should I unload my worries on God when I know that I should not be anxious about anything?

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:6-7

Sometimes when I pray about my worries, it sounds as if I am ‘splainin’ to God all the terrible things that are happening in this world. Why do I feel the need to tell God what He already knows? He knows there is injustice. He knows the wicked are getting away with corruption and deception. He knows people are suffering. He knows people are hurting. He knows, He knows.

He knows
He knows
Every hurt and every sting
He has walked the suffering
He knows
He knows
Let your burdens come undone
Lift your eyes up to the one
Who knows
He knows
-- Jeremy Camp

Thankfully, we don’t have to carry our burdens alone. When we pray about the things that trouble us, we take our worries exactly where we should – to the Lord. Jesus wants to lighten our burdens. He wants to bring us peace.

What A Friend We Have In Jesus

What a friend we have in Jesus
All our sins and griefs to bear
And what a privilege to carry
Everything to God in prayer

Oh, what peace we often forfeit
Oh, what needless pain we bear
All because we do not carry
Everything to God in prayer

Have we trials and temptations?
Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged
Take it to the Lord in prayer

Can we find a friend so faithful
Who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness
Take it to the Lord in prayer

Truly it is a privilege to have a faithful friend like Jesus. We can take everything to the Lord in prayer – all our sorrows, worries, struggles – everything.

Lord Jesus, thank you for bearing the weight of my sins, for sharing the burden of my daily struggles, and for giving me the peace that surpasses all understanding. You know my every weakness and I confess that I need to be more disciplined about prayer. There is trouble everywhere.

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Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

Listening to black voices

To learn more about racism in America, I read two books written by black men. The first one was Tears We Cannot Stop, by Michael Eric Dyson. The second was Between the World and Me, by Ta-Nehisi Coates. Dyson wrote his book to white America. Coates wrote his book to his fifteen-year old son. Both men wrote about the suffering, despair, and fear that result from racism and about the terror of police brutality.

Two perspectives…

Inside the covers of Dyson’s book are the words, “how we can make it through the long night of despair…to the bright day of hope.” Dyson, a professor at Georgetown University and an ordained minister, wrote his book as a sermon to White America because we need to hear the blunt, honest truth about the consequences of the “original sin” of slavery. Although the “sermon” was tough to read, Dyson softened his message by referring to the white reader as “beloved.”

Coates, a national correspondent for The Atlantic, wrote about growing up in fear in Baltimore. He went to Howard University and read extensively about black history trying to understand the divide between the black life he knew and the white American Dream.

When Coates heard his son crying after learning that Michael Brown’s killers would go free, he did not reassure him that everything would be okay. He told him “that this is your country, that this is your world, and you must find some way to live within the all of it.”

Somewhere out there beyond the firmament, past the asteroid belt, there were other worlds where children did not regularly fear for their bodies.

Ta-Nehisi Coates, Between the World and Me

As a man of faith, Dyson believes in the power of redemption. Coates does not believe in God and never believed that a just God is on his side.

Throughout his book, Coates frequently referenced black bodies, starting with the opening line: “Son, Last Sunday the host of a popular news show asked me what it meant to lose my body.” Later, he wrote that the question of his own life was how to live “within a black body, within a country lost in the Dream.” “White America,” he wrote, “is a syndicate arrayed to protect its exclusive power to dominate and control our bodies.”

I was puzzled about why Coates kept referring to black bodies. People of color aren’t just bodies – they have hearts and souls just as I do! Then I thought about America’s long history of owning and controlling black bodies. Black bodies were treated like property, as less than human. Black bodies were segregated from white bodies. White people controlled where blacks could work and go to school. White people controlled where black people could live and eat. Even today, many whites act like black bodies are disposable. We see again and again that whites have the power to slay black bodies with impunity. Coates was telling his son, your black body belongs to you. You will also have to learn how to live in this country within a black body.

Inventing Whiteness

Dyson wrote about the invention of “whiteness.” Whiteness is not genetic; it is a social “inheritance.” Whiteness is privileged in America not because there is a legitimate reason to be privileged but because people with white skin have made it so. Whiteness took various ethnic identities – German, Italian, Jewish, etc. and built them up into another identity. Whiteness is willfully ignorant of black life. Whiteness is a defensive shield that keeps whites from facing the realities that blacks have always known. Whiteness keeps whites from being empathetic – from putting themselves in another’s shoes.

Paraphrasing James Baldwin, Coates frequently referred to people with white skin as “people who think they are white” or “people who want to be white.” Coates wrote that “race is the child of racism not the father.” There have always been differences in skin color and hair. Believing that skin color can be used to organize social hierarchies is the idea of “people who have been brought up hopelessly, tragically, deceitfully, to believe that they are white.”

The Five Stages of White Grief

Dyson wrote that whites have been grieving for years over the loss of our dominance and preferential position in history. He described what he called five stages of white grief:

  1. Pleading ignorance about black life and culture
  2. Denying any responsibility for racism
  3. Appropriating black culture, history, identities
  4. Revising racial history
  5. Diluting or minimizing racism

Many whites do react with anger and denial as in the stages of grief at the loss of a loved one (anger, denial, bargaining, depression, acceptance). However, the responses of whites to racial issues are not stages or phases that whites will get over once we work through anger and denial. I wish that it were so.

Much of what Dyson wrote about white grief are examples of white fragility. Whites are defensive and protective of the status quo. Many whites refuse to admit the reality of black life in America. We promote a racially blind version of history. We forget or “disremember” our horrible past and refuse to acknowledge the ongoing consequences. We claim to be colorblind. We try to minimize the effects of racism by saying that bad things happen to everyone.

Terror of policing

Both writers explained, through experience, why black people are terrified of the police. Dyson told a story about his son, an anesthesiologist, who was stopped by a policeman while driving a rental car with his five-year old in the back seat. The cop told him it was illegal to drive and talk on a cell phone at the same time. Dyson’s son had not been talking on the phone; it had fallen on the floor when he turned the corner. The more he tried to politely insist that he had not broken the law, the more upset the cop became. He placed his hand on his gun. He asked Dyson’s son if he was stupid. The cop said, I should take you to jail and I would, but I have no place to put a child. He gave him a ticket and a warning and said if I ever see you again, I will take you to jail. Imagine facing this hostility and knowing you could have died because you drove while being black.

Sadly, stories like this are not unusual. This summer, I read about Elijah McClain, a 23-year old black man from Aurora, Colorado, who was reported as suspicious because he was waving his arms, dancing while walking to the store. The cops placed him in a chokehold. He tried to explain, I don’t do that stuff. I don’t even kill filies. A paramedic injected him with ketamine to subdue him. Elijah McClain had a heart attack and died within a week. Twenty-three years old.

I can’t breathe. I have my ID right here. My name is Elijah McClain. That’s my house. I was just going home. I’m an introvert. I’m just different. That’s all. I’m so sorry. I have no gun. I don’t do that stuff. I don’t do any fighting. Why are you attacking me? I don’t even kill flies! I don’t eat meat! But I don’t judge people, I don’t judge people who do eat meat. Forgive me. All I was trying to do was become better. I will do it. I will do anything. Sacrifice my identity, I’ll do it. You all are phenomenal. You are beautiful and I love you. Try to forgive me. I’m a mood Gemini. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Ow, that really hurt. You are all very strong.

Many whites deflect when the subjects of police brutality or discrimination come up. They bring up black on black crime, disregarding the prevalence of white on white crime. They say, they shouldn’t have run. They should have cooperated. But as Dyson wrote, no matter what we do, the cops come for us. It doesn’t matter if we’re polite and tame, we’re seen as a menace and a threat. Blackness is viewed as criminal and as less than human.

This breaks my heart.

The Plague of White Innocence

We are afraid that when the tears begin to flow, we cannot stop them.

Michael Eric Dyson

Whites do not like to be challenged on racial issues. When blacks bring injustice to our attention, we often react with indifference or deafening silence. Or we blame the victims of injustice. Dyson urged White America to let go of our whiteness and find our humanity. We should accept accountability for our collective capacity for terror. We have to accept responsibility for accepting a privileged way of life that comes at the expense of people of color. We should surrender our innocence and face the truth with all the discomfort it brings.

At the end of his book, Coates told his son, “I do not believe that we can stop them, Samori, because they must ultimately stop themselves.” “Hope for them. Pray for them, if you are so moved.”

Lord, I pray for white America. I pray that we will listen and respond with empathy and compassion to the voices of our beloved black brothers and sisters and that we will stop defending a way of life that is unjust. I pray that we will acknowledge our collective responsibility for the sin of racism. Amen.

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Photo by Taylor Simpson on Unsplash

Time flies when you’re old

Last week, I went to Walgreens to pick up a prescription and to get my shingles vaccination. While I waited for my shot, an older woman went up to the counter to get her prescription filled. When she was asked for her date of birth, I heard the year 1948 and immediately did the math – she is fifteen years older than me. That prompted a lot of thoughts about how time speeds up when you’re old.

I turned fifty-seven last month. My brother posted a picture on Facebook of me with our mother on my 50th birthday. It doesn’t feel like it has been seven years even though a lot happened in that time. I quit a job I hated and started a new one, I lost several family members including both parents, and I moved to another state.

The process of aging reminds me of a ball that accelerates as it rolls down hill, though the reason is math and not physics, so the analogy quickly falls apart. When an object moves down hill, its potential energy is converted into kinetic energy – the energy of motion. When we get old, our physical energy decreases and we don’t move our bodies as easily. But we have the potential to convert that lost kinetic energy into spiritual energy. Our bodies may be going downhill but our souls can look upward.

Our perception of age is relative. Children have no concept of how old adults are and when they try to guess, their responses are funny. I will never forget the time a kid in middle school, standing outside the door of the school library where I tutored a student, looked in at me and said, “hey, old lady.” I laugh about being called an old lady back then because I was only about 40 years old.

When I was a child, a year seemed like forever. At ten, a year is 10% of your life. Now, one year is only 1.75% of my life; when I was forty a year was 2.5% of my life. Now a year, even seven years, flies by. This quickening of time reminds me of the importance of the lesser known lines of the Serenity Prayer. Live one day at a time. Enjoy one moment at a time.

Living one day at a time,
enjoying one moment at a time;
accepting hardship as a pathway to peace

Today I think of myself as an old lady, albeit a “young” old lady. I take good care of myself with diet and exercise but even the best health habits can’t prevent the effects of aging. As I age, I find myself comparing myself to women who are older than me, like the woman at Walgreens. I guess it’s because I’m preparing myself for what’s ahead and what could be ahead for me physically if I don’t continue to take good care of myself.

In fifteen years, in two blinks of an eye, I hope to be like the older lady I see on my morning runs. She is slender and walks at a good pace, moving her arms as if she were running. Until then, I will be…

Living one day at a time,
enjoying one moment at a time;
accepting aging as a pathway to peace

Knowledge of the Holy

While shopping for other books, I bought my second A.W. Tozer classic, The Knowledge of the Holy. This one was published in 1961, a couple of years before his death (and my birth). Tozer was concerned that the Church was losing its appreciation for the majesty of God and that Modern Christianity wasn’t producing the kind of Christian who could experience life in the spirit. He hoped that his short, simple book would help ordinary people like me have a better understanding of the majesty of God.

We have lost our spirit of worship and our ability to withdraw inwardly to meet God in adoring silence.

A.W. Tozer, The Knowledge of the Holy

What comes to mind when you think about God?

According to Tozer, “what comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us.” God is “the mightiest thought the mind can entertain.” The way that we think about God predicts our spiritual future. The most significant message of the Church is its message about God.

When I think about God, I don’t have a visual image of Him in my head as I do when I think about anyone else. I don’t know what God looks like. No one does. God is like no one else. He is beyond my powers of imagining.

When I think about God, I think of Him as my loving Father. He is the Father who protects me,  the Father who disciplines me when I do wrong because He loves me, and the Father who shows me the right path in life. I think of God as the One who is always there for me, as the One who knows me inside and out and loves me anyway. He is the Creator of the universe and yet He knows my name!

When I think about God, I think of His attributes – omnipotence, omnipresence, omniscience, holiness. He is the source of all that is good. God is Spirit and from Him spring the fruits of the Spirit – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, self-control.

When I think about God, I think about what He wants of me. He wants my obedience, my praise, my faithfulness, my humility. What does He ask of me? To act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with Him.  

We tend by a secret law of the soul to move toward our mental image of God.

A.W. Tozer

God is absolutely the mightiest, most magnificent thought the mind can consider. When you consider God’s majesty and glory, it’s incredible that so few people hunger and thirst for Him.

Decadent images of God

Tozer wrote that in the mid-twentieth century, the Christian conception of God was, in a word, decadent. In Tozer’s opinion, people did not rightly revere God and the lack of reverence kept people from humbling themselves before Him. The gospel is powerless unless it leads people to feel the weight of their sins and to see that they fall short of the glory of God. Until you see “a vision of God high and lifted up,” you will not feel the need to repent.

I can’t help but wonder what Tozer would think about the Christian conception of God today. I think he would be horrified. As I have written before, Christianity and evangelism have been corrupted by politics. Today, many people who self-identify as Christian worship a perverted image of God. Their god sits on a throne sharing his glory with the American flag. The one true God has been replaced with gods created by human hands – the gods of democracy, capitalism, nationalism, and guns. These false gods nullify the power of the gospel because those who might otherwise be receptive to the gospel are turned off by the hypocrisy of people who claim to be Christians.

Idolatry

Tozer wrote that idolatry springs from wrong ideas about God. People imagine things about God and act as if they are true. They create God in their own image instead of accepting Him as He is. Oh, how true this is today.

While in Athens (Acts 17:16-33), the Apostle Paul was upset to see that the city was full of idols. He stood up and spoke to the people.

I see that in every way you are very religious. For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: to an unknown god. So you are ignorant of the very thing you worship—and this is what I am going to proclaim to you.”

 The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by human hands. And he is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything. Rather, he himself gives everyone life and breath and everything else. From one man he made all the nations, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands. God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us. ‘For in him we live and move and have our being.’ As some of your own poets have said, ‘We are his offspring.’’ 

Yesterday, a couple in front of me wore Trump masks to church – one that said Make American Great Again and the other with Trump’s current campaign slogan, Keep America Great. It’s very disturbing to me that Christians today have such a low concept of God that they think that God would support the lies and bigotry of the wicked. I can only pray that God will open their eyes to the truth of who He is.

As the deer pants for streams of water, my soul pants for you, my God. I call out to You in adoring silence. Show me Your glory.

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Photo by Holger Link on Unsplash

 

A prayer for discomfort

I’ve been feeling uncomfortable with myself lately because I am too comfortable. When people were going back to work and businesses were reopening, I stopped thinking about the pandemic everyday. I had adjusted to my new normal. I work from home five days a week in my quiet little corner office. My husband and I have been able to hike or run outside and enjoy the peacefulness and beauty of nature. I’ve even been able to go back to church wearing a mask.

Outside my bubble, people are still getting sick, people are still dying, people are still unemployed, people are still struggling financially. Doctors and nurses are still working really hard and risking their own health to save lives. Teachers and parents are worried about the safety of returning to school. People are still denying the deadliness of this disease and resisting efforts to slow the spread of the virus.

Also outside my bubble, there have been racial protests across the country and ongoing discussions of the uncomfortable reality of systemic racism and injustice. I read about white fragility to better understand how and why whites deny and perpetuate racism. I admit that I am privileged by my whiteness. That makes me uncomfortable. It is also uncomfortable to admit that I have been ignorant about the suffering and struggles of people of color. I have a heart for justice and would like to make a difference. But how? For me, it starts with facing the discomfort of the complicity of silence.

While I grapple with my feelings of discomfort, my church has been studying the life of Moses. One week, the pastor spoke about all the excuses Moses made about why he was not the right person to speak to Pharaoh. Who am I that you would send me? What will I tell them if they ask me ‘what is his name?’ What if they don’t believe me and won’t listen? But I’ve never been eloquent. I am slow of speech and tongue.

I am inspired by Moses because I can relate to his reluctance to speak. As an introvert, I am also slow of speech and tongue. It takes too long to formulate my thoughts into words. I worry about how people will respond to me. Will they even listen? Speaking out about uncomfortable topics takes courage. Speaking out means I have to get out of my comfort zone.

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.

Joshua 1:9

As much as I dislike being uncomfortable, I pray for discomfort. I want my heart to break for the things that break the heart of Jesus.

I have struggled to find the words to express what I’ve been feeling. A few weeks ago, I saw an unattributed prayer on Facebook that was called a Franciscan blessing. A blogger said that this prayer was written by a nun, Sister Ruth Marlene Fox. Her words beautifully express my internal struggle and reframe the struggle as a blessing.

A Non-traditional Blessing

May God bless you with a restless discomfort
about easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships, so that you may seek truth boldly and love deep within your heart.

May God bless you with holy anger
at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you may tirelessly work for justice, freedom, and peace among all people.

May God bless you with the gift of tears
to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, or the loss of all that they cherish, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and transform their pain into joy.

May God bless you with enough foolishness
to believe that you really can make a difference in this world, so that you are able, with God’s grace, to do what others claim cannot be done.

I have been blessed with a restless discomfort. I want to seek truth boldly and to love others deeply even if it is painful. I want to work for justice and equality for those who have been oppressed and exploited. I want to comfort those who suffer and to transform their pain into hope and joy. And yes, it may seem foolish to think that my words can make a difference in this world, but with God’s grace and guidance, they can.