I wonder

When I was working as a missions mobilizer, I came across this story entitled “Sing a little louder” as told by an old weeping Christian man.  

A railroad track ran behind our small church, and each Sunday morning we would hear the whistle from the distance and then the clacking of the wheels moving over the track.  We became disturbed when one Sunday we noticed cries coming from the train as it passed by. We grimly realized that the train was carrying Jews.  They were like cattle in those cars!

Week after week that train whistle would blow. We would dread to hear the sound of those old wheels because we knew that the Jews would begin to cry to us as they passed our church. It was so terribly disturbing!  We could do nothing to help these poor miserable people, yet their screams tormented us. We knew exactly at what time that whistle would blow, and we decided the only way to keep from being so disturbed by the cries was to start singing our hymns.  By the time the train came rumbling past the church yard, we were singing at the top of our voices.  If some of the screams reached our ears, we'd just sing a little louder until we could hear them no more. Years passed and no one talks about it much anymore, but I still hear that train whistle in my sleep.  I can still hear them crying out for help.  God forgive all of us who called ourselves Christians, yet did nothing to intervene.

I have been haunted by that story.

I wondered how you could live with that kind of memory but what could they have done?

I also wondered how the German people had allowed such a person to gain so much power.   I could not imagine how that could happen.

But now… 

Here we are dealing with things I never could have imagined.

At first the money to feed starving people through USAID was shut down.  A friend of ours who has been directing a refugee camp in Haiti reached out to her church friends back here in Michigan and described that millions of people would die without that food.  Most of the comments were tender - except one stating that we shouldn’t give money because it just complicates the poverty situation.  I was stunned.  Well, yes, poverty is obviously a complicated thing - but these people had not caused it.  AND they were starving.  In. That. Moment.

It wasn’t long until the ghoulish spectre of mobs of masked men began terrorizing our cities, dragging women from their cars, invading apartment buildings, breaking down doors, forcing people from their homes… and a whole lot more…

Some of our friends and neighbors deal with extreme fear - as do the International students we work with - here legally but targeted because of their skin color or their accent.

It makes me shudder.

It is indeed haunting.

Frightening.

What are we do to?

This girl went to Sunday School and church for 60 years and learned that we must submit to the authority placed over us.

But this girl was also taught to obey God rather than man.

Jesus spoke regularly about welcoming the stranger and helping the poor.

So what am I to do?

What CAN I do?

I wonder.

I cannot stand by and do nothing.

I can speak in protest, but my voice feels so small.

Maybe I can stand beside people who are afraid.

I can listen. 

But is it enough?

I wonder.

Where's the magic? I wonder

I’ve been wondering about something.

And I’ve been noticing some things.

I’ve noticed that sometimes we get all passionate and loud about things at election time. We vehemently proclaim that this one particular thing is THE MOST IMPORTANT thing.  That nothing else matters as much as this particular thing.

We get so passionate about THAT THING that we will go against our own better judgment on other very important things.

I think I get that - although it seems to me to be an unfortunate way to live.

I wonder if we are missing something.

I wonder if we are being unwise and untrue to our own conviction when we use this "all or nothing" approach.  When we put all of our hope and faith in one person or one party.

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Yep, I wonder about things.

That's a big part of what this blog is about.

You are welcome to listen in to some of my wonderings, but I should probably warn you that this one might get a little long.  Because yah, I seem to be wondering about complicated things lately. Things that don't have simple solutions.

I wonder for example about those of us who are pro-life. We celebrate the sanctity of human life and we might say that this is THE most important issue - so important that we even consider putting someone in office that otherwise we really do NOT want. Someone that we would be ashamed to tell our grandkids we voted for.

I wonder about other examples - like Black Lives Matter. I could wonder if this is THE MOST IMPORTANT issue - and can understand that it IS for many people. I can even understand how someone could be so passionate about this that they can barely think about anything else.

Or maybe my issue is the refugee dilemma.  Maybe we believe that welcoming refugees needs to be a top priority. Maybe we believe that it is foundational to who America is. Or maybe we believe that we have a Biblical mandate to welcome the alien and refugee.

...

I get it. 

I get that we can become pretty passionate about the issues that we think are the most important ones.  And I think that’s a good thing.

But the thing I wonder about is how we can get so passionate and so loud about our most important issue at one time of the year - and yet at other times of the year we don’t seem to be doing anything about that issue.  

Do we think that the ballot box is magic? 

Do we think it is the only place to connect with that “thing” - and to pour out our passion? 

Are we maybe even a little bit happy to “forget” about that passion and tension the rest of the year?

But then there’s something else I wonder about.  

What about the fact that we sometimes collectively elect “the right person” that is supposed to fix this thing - but then it doesn’t get fixed? What happened to the magic?

By the way, I’m preaching to myself here.  I’ve been around this election cycle a few times. Well, and I’ve lived similar cycles in my own life. My own personal priorities. I can generate passion and lots of noise and determination for a season - only to realize months later that I’ve lost the passion or have forgotten to follow-through - or at least that the magic didn’t happen.  

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Maybe I mostly wonder if there is anything that we can do about it all.

Are there other ways to “fix the problem” beyond that one moment? 

Other avenues besides (and alongside) the voting booth?

...

Okay; let's take these examples one at a time...

I remember a long, long time ago when I was a loud pro-lifer and was confronted by a couple different people who quietly challenged me and the harshness of my words. That was probably when I began to wonder if there were other ways to make a difference.  Maybe even better ways.

Back in those days, our wonderings led us to challenge ourselves. To do some research. To take some risks. To fill our house with kids who needed a family.  

But now at this moment I wonder again. I wonder what else I can do to value the sanctity of human life. I’m not up to taking in any more foster kids, but maybe I can find ways to reach out to the single moms in our building.  I can offer words of encouragement to the frazzled mom with a bunch of kids in Walmart rather than express my silent impatience with her or them.

What about you? If you consider yourself pro-life, what can you do besides that one moment in the voting booth?  Because here’s the thing.  If we find a whole bunch of other things (or even one or two!) that we can do to protect human life…  AND if we actually DO them… Well, do you know what? We can do those “other” things NO MATTER who gets elected. And maybe... Probably... that's where the magic comes.

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Or what about my other examples?

Maybe we passionately believe that black lives matter.  

I wonder what we can do about that.

I DO believe that black lives matter and my heart is crushed about the fear and the agony and pain facing black mommas across the country. Well, and not just black mommas, but also white mommas with black sons.  I am saddened about the hopelessness that so many black teenagers face and I wish that I could make things better.  I know that so many things don’t work, and I can’t help but wonder what WILL work. 

More specifically, I wish I knew something that I can do personally. After living in white farm country all my life, I now live where I actually see black faces in my neighborhood and at the store, but still I wonder.  I often feel clueless.  As I’m out for my walk, I watch for opportunities to bump into my neighbors and wish I could find ways to reach out to them. Sometimes I “rehearse” kind things that maybe I can say. Yah, maybe I’m silly, and I sure feel like I'm not doing much, but I want to make a difference. To affirm value.

What about you?

Do you live in circumstances where you can make a difference for black lives? 

Have you found ways to reach out and lift someone from discouragement or fear?

Maybe we can teach each other. 

I wonder.

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And what about those refugees?

When we see the bruised and bloody faces on TV, it can be so overwhelming.

What in the world can we do?

How can we help?

When I feel like I can’t make a dent in this horrific mess, I sometimes have to remind myself that maybe I can make a difference to one. And maybe to another. 

Maybe I can speak a kind word to the girl wearing the beautiful hijab at the Farmers’ Market.

Maybe I can offer a chair or a smile.

When I read about ex-pat families who are driven out of their homes because of the relentless bullying and even violence, I wonder what in the world I can do. 

And so I continue to think and ponder and wonder.

I can watch for faces and listen for accents that are different than mine and try to offer human kindness.

I remember what it feels like to be the ex-pat.

That feeling of being a spectacle. All. The. Time.

An outsider.

May I never forget.

I want to do what I can to welcome those in exile.

But I make mistakes.

Goofs. Big ones

Faux pas

But hopefully I do more to make people feel welcome and affirmed and valued than I do to make them feel like outsiders.  Hopefully.

Certainly one moment in a voting booth is not going to be magic.

Maybe the only way to make the magic happen is to do it in real time.

In real life.

Maybe we can find one REAL thing we can actually DO to make a difference in the area that we think is so important. 

To make the world a better place for one of these human lives that we are passionate about.

To be a real-life super-hero...

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Remember that I’m mostly talking to myself here.

Wondering. Pondering.
But maybe you wonder, too.
Maybe you can help me think of things that I/we can actually do.

When I hear myself saying that I am passionate about “this” or "that"…

When I notice myself getting worked up about whether my candidate will win…

When I begin to tune out heart-breaking news stories because I feel overwhelmed…

I wonder…

I wonder what I can do. Besides the voting booth.

I wonder who I can help.

I wonder how I can at least promote civil discussion.

I wonder if I can be a catalyst to find common ground so that we can work together.

We might say it is the least we can do, but I wonder if maybe it is the best thing.

The best place to start.

Because I probably can’t do much by myself.

Maybe you feel like you can’t make a difference.

But what if we keep talking and listening?

What if we work together?

Maybe that’s where the magic is.

I wonder…