That Refugee Problem.

After hearing about the current world refugee crisis from a blogger I admire, about little three-year-old Aylan washed up on the shores of Turkey (and I felt helpless and grieved and then inspired to do something) I rallied a really great group of people both from the community and the church who were also feeling the same feels.

(And I realize I'm a white, privileged girl from the 'burbs who at times feels so naive and powerless, but I desire to get over myself and just hope I can help someone, in some way, NOT FOR ME TO FEEL GREAT about what I'm doing, but because something within me cries out for justice and compassion to rule over darkness in this world...)

And so began #waucondawelcomesrefugees, working with an organization called RefugeeOne in Chicago, who have been bringing in refugees from around the world since the 80s.

He defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and loves the foreigner residing among you, giving them food and clothing. And you are to love those who are foreigners… Deuteronomy 10:18-19 (NIV)

The group members were all excited, and ready to tackle of all the world's problems and all of our angst, through the simple acts of raising money and household items for ONE family.  We've been at it for almost two months now, and for whatever reason, we're going through what I call The Molasses Stage.

You know, that point when the initial excitement wears off and you have to actually DO something and keep reminding people what you're doing and our Western world loses interest after about two minutes. Myself included. And we're trudging through the thick and sticky, and it's slow, and it's weirdly hard.

It's like labor pains; the buzz and frenzy that the baby is coming, and then the hell and length of labor drags on.  

We're in the valley now, in the deep basin, before climbing up the mountain again; where motivation is waning and discouragement settles in and you just wanna wrap yourself in it like a blanket on a cold, fall day and forget that any of the world is actually hurting.

But I keep thinking of that family. In my mind, they are faceless, but in reality they have faces. And they have hearts, and minds, and hopes and dreams.

There's a family on the other side of this story, the other side of this world, and they can't wrap themselves in blankets and tune out the rest of the world.  They're in the thick weeds, where I'm sure hope is so abstract.

Sometimes I sit here and I imagine myself in a refugee camp, where our family likely currently resides.

And I allow myself to feel what I really can only imagine what it must be like. The constant lines, and even more constant dirt. The rationing. The insecure walls. The inconvenience of everything. And just waiting.  Waiting for what? Pipe dreams? New life? Death?

Am I appealing to your emotions? Perhaps. But these sorts of things should make us feel, and get emotional.
 
I realize there are a million urgent issues in this world constantly pressing us for their attention.  For us, in this season, it is refugee families, especially the children.  

If it is refugees that tugs at your heartstrings and you're feeling inspired to help, we'd love for you to donate money or items to our cause. We have a few community events we will announce soon to help raise money, which we will likely announce this week.  If you'd like to learn more or donate, visit our website.
 
If it's not this issue for you, then what is it? In what way can you be empowered to take the mantle up on something that you're passionate about? Is there any room for that in your life? I'll tell you a couple things...if you really want to invest time, resources, energy...really make that difference...it will NOT be convenient. It will NOT be efficient. It will NOT go as planned.  But, it will be deeply satisfying, if not for you, than at least for the person on the other side. So go after it, and be the answer to prayer for someone today.

The Unsexy (And Constant) State of Need

My daughter, Mercy, stood outside our fifteen-year old minivan looking at me through the passenger-side window, holding a sliding door handle in her hand. We just looked at each other and laughed. It had broken clean off, probably from little hands constantly pulling on it every which way every morning, as I drive five kids to school.

Now we either have to use just one of the sliding doors, or reach in the front door to open it from the inside...it can prove quite the rigmarole in the drop-off line each day, with some impatient parents (whose door handles are all in tact, mind you)  huffing about the nuisance while others compassionately look on in pity. I find it rather comical; I can almost see it being some sort of plot for a Seinfeld episode.

This event, among others (brakes failing on my car while dear friends both fixed and paid for them, Rob's car dying in our driveway, begging a banker to reverse fees, helping a refugee family who is starting a new life in America and has NOTHING) has caused me to reflect on my own need. And not just financial--that's really a small part of my need in the grand scheme of things--but emotional and spiritual as well.

To be 'needy' in our culture, well really any culture, is heavily frowned upon. We even use it as a semi-insult, talking about that friend or family member who goes on and on about their own lives without stopping to ask you about yours..."Oh, she's so needy," we say. "It's draining to be around her."  But when is acknowledging our own 'need' appropriate?  Is there a healthy way of looking at need?

I see a blind spot in our current society, especially among the affluent (which I would put myself in that category, despite my above laundry list)--people fail to accept and acknowledge that they have a need for anything at all, because doing so would admit incompetency.

It's no coincidence that while reflecting on these observations, I picked up a book this week that I started a long time ago but never finished--you know, one of the thousand in that category--that has caused me to wonder further on the state of need.

In The Ragamuffin Gospel, late author and father of the modern day grace movement Brennan Manning points out that in the book of Luke the author juxtaposes the story of the rich man asking Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life with the story of Jesus telling people that in order to see the kingdom of God, one must become like a child.

"Children contrast with the rich man simply because there is no question of their having yet been able to merit anything," Manning claims.

Now I had always assumed that when Jesus talks about becoming like a child--"...unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the Kingdom of Heaven..." it was because they were pure of heart. Makes sense, right?  In order to enter the Kingdom (not just afterlife, but experiencing the Kingdom here and now, 'on earth, as it is in Heaven') you must make yourself to be holy and righteous and good. Just like children.

But Manning tears down that idea, claiming that back in New Testament times, there was not the same idealized version of children that modern society holds today. They were not valued; they were actually regarded as 'the least of these.'

"Children are our model because they have no claim on heaven," he says. "If they are close to God, it is because they are incompetent, not because they are innocent.'

It's because they are incompetent...because they are so aware that they are in need, relying on faith to be provided for...that they get to experience the Kingdom of Heaven.

And as if Manning wasn't loud and clear enough for me to hear this, a friend posted a blog post by Sara Hagerty (author of Every Bitter Thing Is Sweet) articulating this very same issue...

"Because somewhere in that grafting, when we said “yes” to Jesus — at seven or sixteen or twenty-three —  the inertia of humanity and life has taught us that “up, please” is for babies and we don’t know how to be babies to God...Be vulnerable and stay vulnerable is quite the invitation in a world where efficient mastery and polished appearances are praised."

Incompetency over innocence.

That's the real heart of the Gospel, right there...there is nothing we can do to make ourselves better. There was nothing Adam and Eve could do to get back to that Garden. They were at the mercy of a God who promised to restore, and who made good and is making good on His promises because He is the competent one. Utter dependence, like that of a child.  Am I making anyone angry here?

What is holding you back from acknowledging your need, your utter dependence on God?  Is it pride?  Is it past wounds? Is it asking others to fill your needs that they weren't meant to fill?  What are you going to do about it?

Since this revelation, I certainly have become more grateful because I see every provision as a gift.
"Because it is by grace that you have been saved, through faith; not by anything of your own, but by a gift from God; not by anything you have done, so that nobody can claim the credit." (Ephesians 2:8-9).

Don't be the rich man that turned away from Jesus because he wouldn't acknowledge his own need. Become like a child. Acknowledge your incompetence. Experience the adventure of the Kingdom of Heaven, here on earth. And let the one who died and rose again do the work of making you innocent, because that was never your burden to bear.