Humility and the Prairie Dog

prairiedogI ran over a prairie dog on the way to the coffee shop. I swerved as he darted into my path, but he changed course in a split second, right under my tire. I checked my rear view mirror hoping, somehow, he’d miraculously avoided certain death, only to have my fear confirmed. I was unprepared for the sudden wave of nausea that hit me. I began to tremble, and had to pull over as heaving sobs wracked my body.

As cute as the little critters are, I knew this wasn’t about hitting a rodent.

This is the fallout from weeks of advocacy for the weak. (Really months and months as each new “policy” threatens a vulnerable population.) I’m exhausted, shredded actually, emotionally spent. I’ve had numerous sleepless nights. I’ve researched until my eyes burned, making sure I’m sharing the most accurate information. I’ve been on the phone with the offices of all of my elected officials and sent countless emails. I’ve raised funds for non-profits that hire immigration lawyers to represent the children and parents at the border.

I’ve tried to educate and counter the prevalent misinformation abounding on social media with facts. I’ve challenged theological fallacies with sound doctrine in hopes that eyes would be opened and hearts changed.  I’ve been called a “libtard” and “condescending”,  told I was being “used by the media”, accused of being “naive” and “stupid.” I’ve felt gutted by my fellow Christians who staunchly defend a policy that strips children of their parents and cages them, in the name of following the law. I’ve been deeply saddened by a complete lack of empathy and compassion on the part of those who call themselves Christ-followers.

I’m worn out.

Should I simmer down and step away from this type of thing?

politicsThere are those (almost exclusively on the other side of this “issue”) saying we should all just get along, and stop “letting politics divide us.”

But they don’t understand. This is not politics. This is PEOPLE. It’s about imago Dei. It’s about humanity. I cannot walk away from the mistreatment of fellow humans. I cannot let bygones be bygones when it comes to people. 

Some may be surprised to learn that I do believe it is a government’s responsibility to control its borders. Immigration reform is a necessity. That is a political issue on which most of us agree.

But it is a Christian’s responsibility to love everybody, always…to love our neighbors as ourselves…to treat others as we want to be treated. I want to be someone who acts justly, loves mercy, and walks humbly. (Micah 6:8)

It will be a shock, I’m sure, to realize that it’s the last part I struggle with the most. (Read, sarcasm.) Justice and mercy are how I roll. When I see injustice, everything in me burns with righteous anger which fuels me to right the wrong. My heart is rooted in mercy for those who struggle in a society where the deck seems forever stacked against them.

Oh, but humility. Argh.

When I’ve picked a hill on which I’m willing to die, when I’ve done the research and I know for fact injustice IS occurring, when people are suffering and time is of the essence, and some yahoo on social media posts false information justifying the injustice in the name of MY GOD?!? I fear I don’t respond very humbly.

pearlsAnd yet, humility would very much save me so much angst. It would keep me from casting my pearls before swine. It would prevent me from engaging in futile arguments in which my blood pressure raises to perilous levels. It would remind me to walk away. I can educate, but it is not my responsibility to change hearts. It is not up to me to condemn those whom I believe have lost their way and chosen nationalism over Jesus, safety over compassion, comfort over love.

Maybe, if I had chosen all three: justice, mercy, AND humility over the last few weeks, instead of cherry picking my favorite two, I would’ve had the emotional reserves to mourn for the prairie dog appropriately, instead of sobbing uncontrollably for a rodent, God rest his soul.

Oh, fix it, Jesus. There is grace for that.

Together, We Are Legion

You may not be that familiar with us. You may not even notice when you see us in “your” space. Or, it could be that you resent us taking up space at all. You might be one who sees us with genuine curiosity, wishing to know us better, but unsure how to bridge the divide. Or perhaps, you view us with suspicion, worried we exist simply to take something that belongs to you…your property, your privilege, or your “rights.”

Who are we?

We are members of the disability community, people of color, LGBTQ, and immigrants. Some of us are simply their allies – those determined to make sure they have a voice and that it is heard, determined to find them a place at the table.

Collectively, we are the other.

Some of us met in metaphorical Holland, a place we never planned to even visit, let alone linger. But it’s there we became more aware of the others. That’s when we understood that our exclusion was theirs, too. Our lived isolation was being replicated by other groups. Discrimination is something we’ve all encountered and we all share. Our uniqueness, our different, precludes us from having equality. We are rarely heard or really seen, and when we are, our message is too often filtered through a lens of your privilege.

Maybe we make you uncomfortable. When we speak up, our accents are too thick, our speech unintelligible, or our words too piercing. We upset the status quo. You tell us if we would just follow directions (given by people like you), everything would be fine and we could all go back to “normal.” If we would just stop making waves and settle down, we wouldn’t get arrested, or hurt, or killed. If we would only fit in the box you made for us, we could rise above.

You keep reminding us that good people don’t have health problems. Good people work within the system. Good people don’t need any help. They simply work hard to get ahead.

What you don’t realize from the inside of your box, is that we don’t fit in it. And the system does not work for the many on the outside, goodness be damned. Those living here on the outside disagree on much, but we are united in this: all people have intrinsic value, deserve equality, and desire acceptance.

We may have started out in Holland, but we are coming home. Beware America. We are coming for you. Your status quo is no longer safe. The bubble you have long floated in will burst. We will shatter your box. You who are living under a thin veneer of perceived return to greatness, where you have all the power and are without challenge, are in for an awakening. We will cower no more. We refuse to be further silenced.

And, rather than feeling threatened or intimidated by our presence, you should connect with us. You never know when you might one day need us. While your country of origin, your color, and your sexuality are pretty well set, disability can happen at any moment and knock the wind out of your sails.

We strongly believe that Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. (Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.) Allies are always welcome. Won’t you join us?

Separately, we are minorities, but together, we are legion.

handsofcolor