It's been a while. I know.
This last week has been a heavy one. One of my seniors, our most well known basketball player and a darling to all, got diagnosed with leukemia last Saturday night. All day Monday, I spent my classes processing through this devastating news with my students. It was an exhausting day, filled with many questions of, "WHY? Why would God allow this?" There's been wonderfully hopeful news to follow this up-- my student's cancer has been determined to be 95% curable; her doctor is considered the best in the world in dealing with this type of leukemia; and coaches from UCLA, UW, Gonzaga and the like are still bending over backwards to recruit this girl. Still, even this good news does little to soften the overall blow.
In the meantime, others close to me are dealing with their own gauntlets: family issues, marriage difficulties, spiritual doubts and so on. In my own life, I find myself tripping over struggles I thought I'd put to rest months and months ago. It's easy to join the choruses of people around me: why are we here again? Why would you allow this God?
Since I started teaching at my school, my September unit with the seniors has largely focused on Mere Christianity. This summer, re-reading it for the third time, I found myself getting SO much more out of it personally than I have before. This quote was one of many that caught my attention:
“Every time you make a choice you are turning the central part of you, the part of you that chooses, into something a little different from what it was before. And taking your life as a whole, with all your innumerable choices, all your life long you are slowly turning this central thing into a heavenly creature or into a hellish creature."
The way C.S. Lewis describes it, all of everything boils down to what is happening on the inside of us. And although I read that quote back in August and have discussed it at length with my seniors, the apple-dropping-on-the-head moment didn't happen until this morning.
This is what I think. I think it all, all, all comes back to our eternal parts. We as humans tend to focus on circumstances, on whether or not we feel happy, on whether or not things are going well according to our standards. And why wouldn't we? We're evaluating our lives based on how well we understand living. But I'm not sure the question we should be asking ourselves is, "Does this make me happy?" Rather, I think the question we should be asking ourselves is, "What is this doing to the condition of my soul?"
Let me give an example. The struggle I myself keep tripping over is an old one-- I've mentioned it before on this blog. Simply put, when I feel afraid or anxious, I try to assert control over the variables around me-- usually people. I start giving instructions and making demands and drawing fences. I'm much better than I used to be-- I think my Fields of Grace analogy helped me considerably. But still: for me, fear begets a clamp-down.
Now: when my fists clutch, what happens to the condition of my soul? Fear starts calling the shots instead of the Holy Spirit. A hiss in my ear convinces me that God is NOT in control, and I have to do the job for Him. Anxiety inflames; my peace slips away. I find myself building Towers on my own, trying to construct a facade of safety. In those moments, the condition of my soul is horribly anxious and confined. I am listening more to the voices of darkness than the voices of light. Furthermore-- how do my demands affect other people? Rather than letting others pursue their own paths, under the shepherding of their watchful Lord, I try to play shepherd myself, and frankly-- probably do my best to get in God's way. How are others' opportunities to learn and experience God's plan impeded? How do my actions affect the conditions of THEIR souls?
To me, this realization deepens and enriches moments of exultation-- but it also gives meaning to what would seem like senseless tragedy. We ask why, because we are looking at the shambles around us. But the question isn't about those broken pieces; how many passages in the Bible remind us that this life is fleeting, that those things fade? What DOESN'T fade? Our eternal bits. And NOTHING mortal about us will last or persevere unless it knits itself with the eternal, resurrecting life of Christ. Feelings run out. Security runs out. Human reliability runs out. Health runs out. True: healing, faithfulness, safety, and true love can sweep in but if they're going to last, I believe they still must come from The Eternal Source. Our thoughts then, MUST be towards what is happening to the eternal parts of us. I must ask: what is happening to the condition of my soul?
The other quote I've read and re-read from Lewis' book again gets back to this idea-- and continues to speak to me in powerful ways:
"We must not be surprised [as Christians] when we are in for a rough time. When someone turns to Christ and seems to be getting on pretty well (in the sense that some of their bad habits are now corrected), they often feel that it would now be natural if things went fairly smoothly. When troubles come along... they are disappointed. These things, they feel, might have been necessary to rouse them and make them repent in their bad old days; but why now? Because: God is forcing them on, or up to a higher level: putting them into situations where they will have to be very much braver, or more patient, or more loving, than they ever dreamed of being before. It seems to us all unnecessary; but that is because we have not yet had the slightest notion of the tremendous things He means to make of us."
We scrutinize the dirt under our fingernails; the rain on the backs of our necks; the numbers on our paychecks. We care about the details. He cares about the details too I think-- but only insofar as they draw us to Him. Ultimately, He looks at the blazing, churning souls within us. He looks at the eternity we are becoming-- and if we give Him His way, He will do whatever necessary to make sure we become the tremendous things He's envisioned.
Oct 2, 2011
Jul 25, 2011
South Africa: KZN and some final thoughts
Thandi had told us that Kwazulu-natal would be a different world, and she wasn’t kidding.
Sally, Andy, and I taught our hearts out that first day of training—we truly did. As the peer educators blinked back at us from the worn board benches they sat on, confusion written all over their faces, we tried again to explain the concepts: another analogy, another visual drawn on the paper flip chart. The KZN peer educators speak very little English—the primary language there is Zulu—so Thandi’s translations fought to keep up with our English explanations, her strong voice competing with the sound of the wind buffeting the tin roof of that tiny church. We tried for hours to communicate the essential steps of a lesson plan but at the end, we could see it clearly on our students’ faces: they were overwhelmed, confused, and looked totally defeated.
That is the WORST expression any teacher could ever see looking back at her.
We tip-toed around the subject afterwards— initially avoiding a full debrief about what had so clearly gone wrong. We rode back to our lodgings in silence, agreeing that Thandi needed to give her brain a rest after churning out the volume of translating she'd done, while coordinating housing for the PEs on top of that.
During dinner, finally, we began to think and discuss: how can we get these concepts through? We talked and brainstormed, Colin and Thandi weighing in. After coming up with a rough game plan at long last, we turned in.
Day 2 was a different story though. We were afraid that the PEs would be wary of us altogether. Even though we'd all shared stories of our families and backgrounds on the first day-- once again translated by Thandi-- I was worried that even our presence would remind them of the previous day's dismal experience. But the PEs met us at the school they'd be teaching in, in high spirits. Apparently they'd had a blast the night before, catching up with one another. They all live pretty far away from one another, in distant towns and villages in the greater region, and had traveled to meet up with us all for this training. Their slumber party was enough of a good time to boost their spirits-- and ours, as they showed up laughing and set our anxieties at ease.
Watching their instruction that morning was actually really encouraging. Even though we couldn't understand the Zulu they were speaking in, we could see them engaging the students and trying out solid techniques. And- woo hoo!-- we could even see some of them trying stuff we'd taught the day before, which we'd thought had bypassed them altogether!
We ended the morning on a high note, taking pictures of the peer educators in front of a sign I'd found that said "Teachers" and taking pictures of plenty of the kids. The PEs found their photo session especially amusing, given that their photo back drop was actually the old toilet building.
Our afternoon training on Day 2 was already more KZN style. Instead of having the PEs on rows of benches inside, we moved out into the warm afternoon sun and re-taught the concepts from yesterday by applying them to Mpume's lesson. We also wrote everything on the board in their language, Zulu. Day 2 training was more concrete, slower, and Zulu-style... and they GOT it. :) Niabulo said at the end of Day 2, "THIS was the first day of training...!"
Day 3 was another success, beginning with a few more observations in the morning-- Musa's lesson was UNBELIEVABLE, especially considering it was his first peer educator lesson ever--
...and that afternoon, we trained the PEs in lectures, discussion, and small groups. Andy, Sally and I were really pleased to have figured out a teaching style that worked for this group, and by the end of that 3rd day, we were already sorry to say goodbye.
(Don't mind their serious expressions in the last photo... I'm not sure why they weren't smiling, but it definitely was a great 3rd day!)
On Saturday, Andy, Sally, and I worked all day long, trying to finish typing up a teacher training manual which Colin has big, big plans for. He'd told us early on actually, "You know you're not here to train peer educators."
I remember blinking at him. "We're not?"
"No," he said. "That's PART of why you're here. But the MAIN reason you're here is so that you guys can understand our various contexts enough to write a comprehensive training manual that we can send out into all of South Africa, and into Zimbabwe... and most likely other countries beyond that."
News to me, and a major responsibility. We gave it our best shot though: Andy had already written up many lesson plans for this training manual, so Saturday's project involved a lot of revising and some new writing. We felt pumped by the end of our long day though-- that was really our last big day of WORK here, and it was exciting to feel like we'd come up with a solid final project. Sunday, we drove back to Johannesburg for our last leg of the trip.
-----------------------------------
This last part, about our day today, our LAST day, I'm going to exerpt from an email I wrote earlier:
We started the day by going to a school and watching Bongoni teach. He led SUCH an incredible discussion in his class. The topic was peer pressure, and you would not believe the kind of insightful stuff these kids were saying. It was inspiring listening to some of their words-- one girl talked about how a street sweeper could be a role model, because if you ask him why he's doing what he's doing, he'll tell you it's because he wants to provide for his family and he'll work hard to do so. She talked about the necessity of not just thinking of ourselves, surrounding ourselves with the most powerful company we can find just so that we can elevate our status... but that we needed to be focused on others all the time as well, encouraging them along. It was almost a rebuttal to Bongoni's main point-- "Bad company corrupts good character"-- but she said it so passionately and from such a point of grace, I couldn't help but agree with her. I was truly blown away by what they were saying-- and Bongoni did an awesome job applying some of our teaching suggestions. I left feeling invigorated and encouraged. I thought, "THIS is such proof that we are on the victor's side... God is MOVING!"
But then... we went straight from there to a cemetary. Andy had told us about this place from the last time he was here-- he showed us a picture of graves that had been pre-dug, ready for the new corpses that would arrive that weekend. I knew it would be a heavy experience, but it devastated me. There were SO many graves... and so many of them were tiny-- you could see it was children that had been buried. On the tops of graves, there were all kinds of items-- on the child-sized graves, there were bottles and little toys and sippy cups. Thandi told us, "These are not just mothers' sentiments-- this is worship. You see, the child has died, it's an ancestor now, so they have to worship it... people come to the graves and leave these things to worship their ancestors." We saw tons of grave stones that were huge and ornate-- Colin told us that families will literally bankrupt themselves to buy a fancy gravestone for someone that's passed away, because they feel the need to worship him or her and the fear the consequences if the ancestor isn't pleased. Some gravestones were wrapped in plastic-- those apparently are not fully paid off yet, and it would anger the ancestors for the stone to be unwrapped before it was fully paid for. One gravestone supposedly had been wrapped up for over 9 years. Andy found a grave of a child that had been born and died just within the three weeks we've been here.
It was so devastating to see. Colin asked me how I was feeling and all I could say was, "Heavy."
...We went to lunch, and Sally finally asked me, "How can we help you with this hon?" And we finally talked through it a bit. Even then though... how do you just "talk through" a sight like that? Especially given where we were sitting, in this gorgeous food court in the middle of an immaculate mall. Walking by store fronts with diamond jewelry and ornate sofas in the windows, I thought to myself, "How many grave stones is THAT equivalent to?" The heaviness has lingered. After lunch I was able to just talk again though.
After that we went and had our final "exit interview" with Colin and the team. We went through all of our recommendations and presented the final training manual, which is what we completed on Saturday. The meeting lasted about 2.5 hours... Colin and Thandi and Simphiwe and Margot were all pretty thrilled I think... I asked at the end, "Was this what you were hoping for?" And they all said resounding "yes"s.
As we were saying final comments, Sally and I started tearing up again. It was a really emotional day. I feel pretty exhausted.
Packing tonight... and then-- if you can believe it, we've got another crazy early day tomorrow. Colin is picking us up at 7:15am so that we can go to a school where Thandi is going to be speaking. Then we'll go to meet up with the Soweto peer educators for a final talk with them. I guess we'll be taking communion together, and I think the PEs are probably going to say some sort of thank you. Finally, I'm guessing around 3, we'll head to the airport. Our flight doesn't leave until 8pm, so we'll have lots of time to kill. There's a store called "Out of Africa" that we all want to get a few more gifts at, and we'll probably get dinner...
And then we'll get on a plane for 16 hours.
And then I'll get on another plane for 5 hours.
And then-- finally-- I'll be home.
----------------------------------
That's all I have time to write now. Please be praying for the return journey-- and thank you for all your prayers in the meantime!!
Sally, Andy, and I taught our hearts out that first day of training—we truly did. As the peer educators blinked back at us from the worn board benches they sat on, confusion written all over their faces, we tried again to explain the concepts: another analogy, another visual drawn on the paper flip chart. The KZN peer educators speak very little English—the primary language there is Zulu—so Thandi’s translations fought to keep up with our English explanations, her strong voice competing with the sound of the wind buffeting the tin roof of that tiny church. We tried for hours to communicate the essential steps of a lesson plan but at the end, we could see it clearly on our students’ faces: they were overwhelmed, confused, and looked totally defeated.
That is the WORST expression any teacher could ever see looking back at her.
We tip-toed around the subject afterwards— initially avoiding a full debrief about what had so clearly gone wrong. We rode back to our lodgings in silence, agreeing that Thandi needed to give her brain a rest after churning out the volume of translating she'd done, while coordinating housing for the PEs on top of that.
During dinner, finally, we began to think and discuss: how can we get these concepts through? We talked and brainstormed, Colin and Thandi weighing in. After coming up with a rough game plan at long last, we turned in.
Day 2 was a different story though. We were afraid that the PEs would be wary of us altogether. Even though we'd all shared stories of our families and backgrounds on the first day-- once again translated by Thandi-- I was worried that even our presence would remind them of the previous day's dismal experience. But the PEs met us at the school they'd be teaching in, in high spirits. Apparently they'd had a blast the night before, catching up with one another. They all live pretty far away from one another, in distant towns and villages in the greater region, and had traveled to meet up with us all for this training. Their slumber party was enough of a good time to boost their spirits-- and ours, as they showed up laughing and set our anxieties at ease.
Watching their instruction that morning was actually really encouraging. Even though we couldn't understand the Zulu they were speaking in, we could see them engaging the students and trying out solid techniques. And- woo hoo!-- we could even see some of them trying stuff we'd taught the day before, which we'd thought had bypassed them altogether!
We ended the morning on a high note, taking pictures of the peer educators in front of a sign I'd found that said "Teachers" and taking pictures of plenty of the kids. The PEs found their photo session especially amusing, given that their photo back drop was actually the old toilet building.
Our afternoon training on Day 2 was already more KZN style. Instead of having the PEs on rows of benches inside, we moved out into the warm afternoon sun and re-taught the concepts from yesterday by applying them to Mpume's lesson. We also wrote everything on the board in their language, Zulu. Day 2 training was more concrete, slower, and Zulu-style... and they GOT it. :) Niabulo said at the end of Day 2, "THIS was the first day of training...!"
Day 3 was another success, beginning with a few more observations in the morning-- Musa's lesson was UNBELIEVABLE, especially considering it was his first peer educator lesson ever--
...and that afternoon, we trained the PEs in lectures, discussion, and small groups. Andy, Sally and I were really pleased to have figured out a teaching style that worked for this group, and by the end of that 3rd day, we were already sorry to say goodbye.
(Don't mind their serious expressions in the last photo... I'm not sure why they weren't smiling, but it definitely was a great 3rd day!)
On Saturday, Andy, Sally, and I worked all day long, trying to finish typing up a teacher training manual which Colin has big, big plans for. He'd told us early on actually, "You know you're not here to train peer educators."
I remember blinking at him. "We're not?"
"No," he said. "That's PART of why you're here. But the MAIN reason you're here is so that you guys can understand our various contexts enough to write a comprehensive training manual that we can send out into all of South Africa, and into Zimbabwe... and most likely other countries beyond that."
News to me, and a major responsibility. We gave it our best shot though: Andy had already written up many lesson plans for this training manual, so Saturday's project involved a lot of revising and some new writing. We felt pumped by the end of our long day though-- that was really our last big day of WORK here, and it was exciting to feel like we'd come up with a solid final project. Sunday, we drove back to Johannesburg for our last leg of the trip.
-----------------------------------
This last part, about our day today, our LAST day, I'm going to exerpt from an email I wrote earlier:
We started the day by going to a school and watching Bongoni teach. He led SUCH an incredible discussion in his class. The topic was peer pressure, and you would not believe the kind of insightful stuff these kids were saying. It was inspiring listening to some of their words-- one girl talked about how a street sweeper could be a role model, because if you ask him why he's doing what he's doing, he'll tell you it's because he wants to provide for his family and he'll work hard to do so. She talked about the necessity of not just thinking of ourselves, surrounding ourselves with the most powerful company we can find just so that we can elevate our status... but that we needed to be focused on others all the time as well, encouraging them along. It was almost a rebuttal to Bongoni's main point-- "Bad company corrupts good character"-- but she said it so passionately and from such a point of grace, I couldn't help but agree with her. I was truly blown away by what they were saying-- and Bongoni did an awesome job applying some of our teaching suggestions. I left feeling invigorated and encouraged. I thought, "THIS is such proof that we are on the victor's side... God is MOVING!"
But then... we went straight from there to a cemetary. Andy had told us about this place from the last time he was here-- he showed us a picture of graves that had been pre-dug, ready for the new corpses that would arrive that weekend. I knew it would be a heavy experience, but it devastated me. There were SO many graves... and so many of them were tiny-- you could see it was children that had been buried. On the tops of graves, there were all kinds of items-- on the child-sized graves, there were bottles and little toys and sippy cups. Thandi told us, "These are not just mothers' sentiments-- this is worship. You see, the child has died, it's an ancestor now, so they have to worship it... people come to the graves and leave these things to worship their ancestors." We saw tons of grave stones that were huge and ornate-- Colin told us that families will literally bankrupt themselves to buy a fancy gravestone for someone that's passed away, because they feel the need to worship him or her and the fear the consequences if the ancestor isn't pleased. Some gravestones were wrapped in plastic-- those apparently are not fully paid off yet, and it would anger the ancestors for the stone to be unwrapped before it was fully paid for. One gravestone supposedly had been wrapped up for over 9 years. Andy found a grave of a child that had been born and died just within the three weeks we've been here.
It was so devastating to see. Colin asked me how I was feeling and all I could say was, "Heavy."
...We went to lunch, and Sally finally asked me, "How can we help you with this hon?" And we finally talked through it a bit. Even then though... how do you just "talk through" a sight like that? Especially given where we were sitting, in this gorgeous food court in the middle of an immaculate mall. Walking by store fronts with diamond jewelry and ornate sofas in the windows, I thought to myself, "How many grave stones is THAT equivalent to?" The heaviness has lingered. After lunch I was able to just talk again though.
After that we went and had our final "exit interview" with Colin and the team. We went through all of our recommendations and presented the final training manual, which is what we completed on Saturday. The meeting lasted about 2.5 hours... Colin and Thandi and Simphiwe and Margot were all pretty thrilled I think... I asked at the end, "Was this what you were hoping for?" And they all said resounding "yes"s.
As we were saying final comments, Sally and I started tearing up again. It was a really emotional day. I feel pretty exhausted.
Packing tonight... and then-- if you can believe it, we've got another crazy early day tomorrow. Colin is picking us up at 7:15am so that we can go to a school where Thandi is going to be speaking. Then we'll go to meet up with the Soweto peer educators for a final talk with them. I guess we'll be taking communion together, and I think the PEs are probably going to say some sort of thank you. Finally, I'm guessing around 3, we'll head to the airport. Our flight doesn't leave until 8pm, so we'll have lots of time to kill. There's a store called "Out of Africa" that we all want to get a few more gifts at, and we'll probably get dinner...
And then we'll get on a plane for 16 hours.
And then I'll get on another plane for 5 hours.
And then-- finally-- I'll be home.
----------------------------------
That's all I have time to write now. Please be praying for the return journey-- and thank you for all your prayers in the meantime!!
Jul 18, 2011
South Africa: Soweto
On Tuesday, July 12th, our U.S. crew got up bright and early to head into Soweto at 8:15, planning to start our teaching instruction at 9am. Colin drove us through our neighborhood, past the picturesque homes and their imposing walls, further into the city. Taxis roared through lights, we saw progressively more people trying to sell things at intersections, and the earth changed from landscaped lawns into brown expanses. Finally, we crested a hill adjacent to an enormous dump, and there, stretching before us, was Soweto.
During apartheid, black South Africans were confined to townships, like Soweto, and could only exit if they had approved passes-- which were typically extraordinarily difficult to obtain. Inside the townships, the blacks lived under devastating conditions, while outside of the townships, whites typically lived in cosmopolitan environments. Whites were also restricted from going INTO the townships; a technique that would keep them ignorant about the actual conditions their fellow country-men were living in. Colin has told us that the propaganda machine during apartheid was similar to Nazi propaganda-- the whites were being fed lies about the real state of things, just as the blacks were being horribly oppressed. Apartheid was abolished in 1994, but Soweto remains a giant area for many of Johannesburg's black citizens.
Our goal for the day was to teach the Peer Educators the basic components of planning a lesson effectively-- we'd been up late the night before, working a soccer analogy into the lesson so that they'd have a clear visual to correlate the "education lingo" with. Andy and Sally would present the teaching components, and then I would follow up with how those could be related to a soccer game.
I was really excited. :)
We pulled into the lot where we'd be teaching. In the center of the lot was a giant tree; in front of that was a small shed with two couches out in front, and near the shed were several piles of metal chair frames. Colin told us later that they do upholstery work sometimes. We moved into the building where we'd be giving our instruction—“Fill the Gap Church”-- which was a large, spacious, FREEZING room.
The Peer Educators trickled in around 9:30; there were 8 of them: three girls-- Mpho, Flozi, and Zmikhita, and five guys-- Tshepo, Tlhocks, Mandla, Gift, and Bongoni. Zmikhita had brought her baby, whose name I can't pronounce, but I know it means, "The one that has set me free." I think? Zmikhita is married and also has a 2-year-old... I think I was expecting 17, 18, and 19-year-olds for these peer educators, but they were all around my age or older-- and all, I would imagine, have seen sides of life I can't imagine.
Simphiwe got the whole thing started when he began to sing. Probably my FAVORITE thing about the African culture when I was in Malawi several years ago was the style of African singing. One person leads off—in this case, Simphiwe— and if the singer is anywhere near as talented as Simphiwe, they’re singing a powerful, resonant, fluid main melody. Everyone else joins in, in 2 or 3 part harmonies which come naturally, spontaneously. Typically one of the women then picks up a 4th dominant harmony and riffs off the main part. It’s BEAUTIFUL. I often find myself holding my breath when listening.
Colin spoke for a bit and reminded us all of WHY we were there: “Every day,” he began—always softly, always calmly, always in those immaculate British intonations—“...one thousand people die of AIDS in this country. That means 1,000 people will wake up this morning and this evening… will be in the morgue. 1,000 people will be taken out by this devastating virus. We don’t know how many people will be infected today but we know many will be. The solution... starts here. It begins with education. It begins with passionate young people like you showing their peers that there is a better way. There is a way to live a long, good life—we want these people to be grandparents. We want them to have hope in their futures. That is what you offer them. You offer them a way to say no to the virus, and you offer them what’s far more important: a pathway out of despair, and into eternal hope. You cannot underestimate the importance of what we are doing here.”
Andy and Sally and I began. One of the very best moments for teachers is when you see the “aha!” moments in your students’ faces, and there were SO many of those as we went through this! Especially when we brought in the soccer analogy, we saw the Peer Educators open their eyes wider and begin nodding their heads. I made Colin get up and stand opposite me. “Bongoni,” I said, to one of the peer educators. “Do you think I could beat Colin in a soccer match? You should probably know I’ve never played soccer on a team before, and I haven’t practiced. And just for fun, let’s say that I’m up against Colin when he was on the Olympic track team for Rhodesia. Could I beat him, do you think?”
Bongoni looked at me and raised his eyebrows. “If you haven’t practiced or anything...? No, I don’t think you could beat him.”
“Agreed!” I said. “In this situation, I’m going to say that Colin—my opponent—represents Death and Despair. And that’s what you’re fighting, as Reach4Life peer educators. You are going into the classrooms, and trying to give these students a hope that can triumph over despair, and a plan for their future that will help them defeat an early grave. But this is NOT an easy competition, is it? Your classrooms are packed with 40, 50, 60 students. Many of them will be rooting for the opposing team, even. They may not like you, they may want to destroy you. AND—there’s a ton of cultural pressure for these kids TO be having sex at young ages, and to not worry about protection.
“That means,” I said, “If you want to win this game, you have to go in with every trick and skill and strategy you’ve got. You need to be prepared. You need to have practiced. You will not win this game if you don’t play to win.”
“Thank you Colin, you can sit down,” I said. Colin’s eyes twinkled and he obliged. “How do I win a soccer game?” I asked the peer educators.
“You score points,” Thandi offered.
“Yes! I have to score goals. I will NOT win a soccer game if I just dribble the ball all over the field, I HAVE to get the ball into the goal if I want to win the game. The GAME, guys, is any one of these Reach4Life lessons that you’re teaching. Okay? You’re going into the classroom, with that lesson, and by the time you leave the classroom, you want to have WON that game, you want to have GOTTEN that message through to your kids. And the goal box contains your big ideas. What are the main ideas you’re trying to get across? THAT’S what’s in the goal box. And unless you get your ball to THOSE goals—you can’t win this game. Every move you make on a soccer field is ultimately aimed at getting your ball into that goal box, and when you’re teaching a lesson, everything you do must work towards communicating that MAIN idea.”
We went on to explain the rest of the lesson components, and I continued to act out the soccer equivalent. Andy and Sally helped demonstrate what “practice” looks like (which relates to teachers preparing for their lessons) by doing push-ups and soccer moves. Andy was especially pleased, I think, to show how many push-ups he could do. :) I kept making Colin get up to face me and look ferocious and then I would make him sit back down. At one point, we were demonstrating the “kick-off” (i.e. the lesson’s introductory “hook” or, in technical terms, the anticipatory set), and Colin and I both kicked the ball. Death and Despair clearly had a stronger kick-off than Reach4Life did, but I told everyone, “Okay, but PRETEND mine was better.”
It was really, really fun. :)
We ate lunch in the courtyard to soak up a little of that winter sunshine and got a chance to talk to the peer educators more. I loved that part—Andy, Sally, and I have been consistently blown away by how astute the peer educators are, and it’s awesome hearing snippets of their stories. When I asked some of the guys if there was anything specific that they’d like us to cover, Mandla said in his quiet voice, “Well, sometimes there are the big boys in the back of the class who are corrupt… They are always the ones who are the most difficult, and you know, sometimes they might be older than you. What do you do if those guys say to you, ‘I’m going to come after school and kill you’?”
I stared at Mandla, incredulous. “You have students saying they’re going to come after school and KILL you?”
“Yes...” he said quietly. “They say that we are stealing their girlfriends, because sometimes their girlfriends decide they want to wait for marriage to have sex, so they say we are taking their girlfriends and because of that they want to kill us. So, what should we do in cases like that?”
Bongoni posed another question. “Sometimes girls may come to us and tell us they are interested in Reach4Life, but really, they are only interested in us. Like, maybe they want to date us. What should we do in situations like that?”
Simphiwe explained the situation further. “Many of these girls see only men that want to abuse them, or pay them for sex, or are just corrupt. They see someone like Bongoni, and they see that he is a good man. So, their reasons might be good for wanting to date him… But it is still a difficult situation for our Peer Educators.”
No kidding. I did my best to give them ideas for how to handle those situations, with Simphiwe chiming in at times. Where do you begin with something like that??
After lunch, Andy went over how to give a good lecture, and then at 3, we called it a day. It was a GREAT day. I loved it.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Writing this now on Monday, 7/18. Must... finish... Soweto... blog!!
Gift, Tlhocks, and Tshepo didn’t show up on Wednesday. I worried that this indicated they’d felt the training was useless until Thandi told me otherwise. “Tlhocks has to work; Tshepo has a job interview; and Gift has a disabled brother who can’t walk. And… today is his medication day, so Gift has to take him.” Thandi shrugged. “These are... our conditions.”
Speaking of conditions, Thandi, incidentally, was late on Day 2 because she’d gotten in a car accident with a taxi. It was entirely the taxi’s fault, and the driver had admitted as much, but he’s not insured. Thandi, then, will need to take care of it on her own time and on her own dime. Colin told us that the taxi drivers’ unions are extremely powerful here—so much so that if a police-man arrests a taxi-driver, there’s enough power in the taxi-drivers’ union that they could kill the police-man for giving them trouble and most likely get away with it. Yeesh.
Gift wasn’t able to come on Day 3 either, because he once again had to take care of his brother. Apparently when he told his family he had to go to Peer Educating Training they said, “It’s not like you’re learning anything that will get you 5,000 rand [the South African currency]. You can stay home.” Thandi told us Gift felt terribly about this. She also explained that, to many South Africans, volunteering is perceived as something only “losers” do who can’t get a job. Our Peer Educators therefore, are not only dealing with huge classes, skeptical students who are often hostile, a message that runs counter to the culture and the popular sentiments of the students, and no pay… they are also fighting a perception that they are losers for fighting to spread a message that South Africa desperately needs. How dedicated must these guys be?? No wonder we were so blown away by them.
Simphiwe once more rallied us together with a song, which meant we commenced once more about 45 minutes after our “official” start time. Andy and Sally had asked me if I would start the day with a reflection from the Bible, so I read from Isaiah 40. I told the PEs, “This chapter has been rocking my world lately. Do you have that expression? Rocking my world?” They nodded. “Yeah. It’s totally been rocking my world.”
After the reflection, we wanted to give them practice engaging in discussions. It sounds like most of our PEs teach in the manner they’ve been taught in: namely, the teacher talks AT them and the students minimally engage. We really wanted to give our PEs teaching techniques beyond just “sermonizing,” and they seemed to get into the discussion conversation. Many of them piped up with thoughts on the pros and cons of using the discussion method in class, and offered up ideas of how it might be received into their culture. We had a new attendee on Wednesday—Job—who has been a PE for several years and is clearly passionate about it. He talked confidently and quickly seemed to process the ideas we were giving him. Zimkhita, also—the mama with the baby-- had great things to say. In fact, at one point Sally offered to hold the baby so that Zimkhita could take notes. Colin got a great picture of Sally holding this baby in the sunshine streaming in through the window. “I have a grand-baby on the way so I need to practice,” she said. I think she was in heaven!
I got to lead this portion of our teaching, which I enjoyed; discussions are probably my favorite teaching method. We didn’t get through all the powerpoint slides Andy had assembled for me, which we’d been projecting on the painted concrete wall—but that was because we had so much to talk about as a group! Indicator #1 that the discussion has gone well. :)
After tea time (heart the tea time), Sally led a great lesson on small groups, which we then followed with a small group activity. There’s one Reach4Life lesson which highlights all the different reasons young people choose to have sex. We asked the Peer Educators to discuss which reasons they thought would be the most compelling to their students, and to talk with each other about how they would counsel a student wanting to have sex for those reasons. Once again, it was fascinating to hear the PEs discuss their culture. I was with three of the quietest PEs: Mandla, Bongoni, and the youngest girl there, Flozi, so it was great to hear them talk more. We found out later that Flozi is actually still in school—she’s in 11th grade, and leads a secret Reach4Life discussion group at her school. Apparently she asked her principal, an Indian man, if they could do Reach4Life in schools. He refused, because of the curriculum’s Christian components. Flozi explained, “He is a Hindu, so he doesn’t want Christianity in his schools.” She told us the group would get in trouble if the principal found them meeting, so the group tries to stay hidden during the breaks, when they meet. Flozi comes across as extremely shy, so to think of her leading a clandestine R4L group in her school, risking punishment from her principal for doing so, once again made me feel blown away by the determination of my South African peers.
Lunch outside, which was followed by an introduction to Learner Disabilities, led by Andy. I was surprised to realize what a new concept “visual and hearing disabilities” were to the Peer Educators—it seemed like they had never considered that many students in their classes might have difficulty reading the board. I’m not sure why this would be; perhaps, since students there are never tested for those conditions, teachers simply don’t consider that they should accommodate for them. Regardless, it was exciting to see many of the PEs realize there were simple indicators and simple ways to problem-solve something as basic as a vision problem.
End of Day 2.
Day 3 was a half day: Andy finished the talk on learning disabilities and then we spent an hour getting feedback on the training experience from the Peer Educators. Most fascinating point from the learning disabilities lesson: if a kid had an epileptic fit in the context our PEs are working in, the fit would always, always be credited as a spiritual possession—like, a demonic attack. Our PEs were shocked to hear Andy’s scientific explanation behind what causes a seizure, and many of them were curious as to how they should then handle those situations. Job said, “Many times, when a child is shaking like that, we are asked to pray for them because they know we Peer Educators are Christians. So what should I do? I don’t know if it would work to say it is just a medical condition, because everyone would think it is for spiritual reasons.”
We acknowledged that in some cases, it MIGHT be for spiritual reasons, but the vast majority of instances would be medical. I said, “Maybe pray for protection from both spiritual AND physical ailments. You know? Pray for the student in the moment, and then later, try to encourage one of the student’s family members to get him or her to a clinic.”
I also noticed during this lesson how quick the Peer Educators were to work around the simulated disabilities Andy was giving them. To simulate a learning disability, he had Tlhocks write his name on a board with his hands tied together; Tlhocks quickly made the adjustment, and wrote his name in perfect block letters. Then Andy had him write his name on the board with his hands tied behind his back; once again, Tlhocks worked it out. Though he took longer to write it, he once again got his name on the board in near perfect letters. Mandla, also, impressed Andy in another simulated disability task. Andy told Mandla, while marveling at his painstaking work, “Most people can’t do this at all!” Yet Mandla carefully, deliberately, determinedly guided his pen through the task Andy had assigned, ultimately completing the task without any mistakes.
Perhaps this is a generalization, but it made me think, “This is how these guys have LIVED. The odds are against them, but they figure out a way to succeed, regardless.” Mandla, for instance, is a self-taught electrician. Someone said on the first day, “If you want to hook up your computer to the TV, ask Mandla. Or if you need your house wired, or your phone fixed, or anything done with wires… He’s your guy.” Mandla—and others like him-- have just figured it out.
The feedback session was awesome— really, really encouraging. We had asked the PEs if they felt the training was effective, and, if so, to identify one way that they thought they might change their teaching methods as a result of the training. They almost all spoke up and identified something specific from the training that they would be taking away. In fact, when I saw Bongoni that morning, the first thing he said to me was, “Hey! Last night I met with my home cell group at church, and I tried the discussion method! We were talking about the money topic, and the discussion worked really well. Normally, you know, someone just gives a long talk but the discussion was good.”
How cool is that??!
Tomorrow (as in Tuesday), we’ll head into the schools WITH the Peer Educators to observe them and give them feedback. So I will actually get to SEE these schools tomorrow!! I believe we’ll be observing both Job and Mandla. I can’t wait!
We’re coming off of a weekend at Sun City, where Colin took us out on safari drives through a giant game park. We saw so many cool things!!! If you’re my facebook friend, be sure to check out the pictures. It was great to have a bit of a breather, since from here on out we’ll be working non-stop ‘til we fly out. Sally and I continue to feel conflicted as we enjoy the plush accommodations we’re in, and then witness the devastating poverty of Soweto. However, as Andy pointed out early on, “We’re not helping anyone by feeling guilty about where we’re staying. The important thing is that we remember how blessed we are to be here, be thankful, and then do our best to bless the people we’re working with.” Good advice I suppose-- especially since none of us had any part in planning where we’re staying. This is the ever-present conundrum of South Africa: luxury and poverty exist in such stark, radical opposition, I feel like I’m moving through a photo negative world. Where is the rich color of co-mingled diversity? Where is the gray of the in-between? Everything seems to come down to black and white, to blatant disparities, to deeply rifted dichotomies. Everything seems to be drifting towards Darkness and Despair.
But my team, and Colin’s crew, and the Peer Educators, and many others, I KNOW—are fighting darkness, and we’re fighting despair. The opposition is fierce, but we’ll come at them with everything we’ve got. At the end of the day, I remind myself, this holds true: “there in the ground, His body lay; light of the world by darkness slain. Then bursting forth, in glorious day, up from the grave He rose again!” My King is stronger than darkness; my King is stronger than despair. I’m on the victor’s side— and the warriors with me are bound and determined.
During apartheid, black South Africans were confined to townships, like Soweto, and could only exit if they had approved passes-- which were typically extraordinarily difficult to obtain. Inside the townships, the blacks lived under devastating conditions, while outside of the townships, whites typically lived in cosmopolitan environments. Whites were also restricted from going INTO the townships; a technique that would keep them ignorant about the actual conditions their fellow country-men were living in. Colin has told us that the propaganda machine during apartheid was similar to Nazi propaganda-- the whites were being fed lies about the real state of things, just as the blacks were being horribly oppressed. Apartheid was abolished in 1994, but Soweto remains a giant area for many of Johannesburg's black citizens.
Our goal for the day was to teach the Peer Educators the basic components of planning a lesson effectively-- we'd been up late the night before, working a soccer analogy into the lesson so that they'd have a clear visual to correlate the "education lingo" with. Andy and Sally would present the teaching components, and then I would follow up with how those could be related to a soccer game.
I was really excited. :)
We pulled into the lot where we'd be teaching. In the center of the lot was a giant tree; in front of that was a small shed with two couches out in front, and near the shed were several piles of metal chair frames. Colin told us later that they do upholstery work sometimes. We moved into the building where we'd be giving our instruction—“Fill the Gap Church”-- which was a large, spacious, FREEZING room.
The Peer Educators trickled in around 9:30; there were 8 of them: three girls-- Mpho, Flozi, and Zmikhita, and five guys-- Tshepo, Tlhocks, Mandla, Gift, and Bongoni. Zmikhita had brought her baby, whose name I can't pronounce, but I know it means, "The one that has set me free." I think? Zmikhita is married and also has a 2-year-old... I think I was expecting 17, 18, and 19-year-olds for these peer educators, but they were all around my age or older-- and all, I would imagine, have seen sides of life I can't imagine.
Simphiwe got the whole thing started when he began to sing. Probably my FAVORITE thing about the African culture when I was in Malawi several years ago was the style of African singing. One person leads off—in this case, Simphiwe— and if the singer is anywhere near as talented as Simphiwe, they’re singing a powerful, resonant, fluid main melody. Everyone else joins in, in 2 or 3 part harmonies which come naturally, spontaneously. Typically one of the women then picks up a 4th dominant harmony and riffs off the main part. It’s BEAUTIFUL. I often find myself holding my breath when listening.
Colin spoke for a bit and reminded us all of WHY we were there: “Every day,” he began—always softly, always calmly, always in those immaculate British intonations—“...one thousand people die of AIDS in this country. That means 1,000 people will wake up this morning and this evening… will be in the morgue. 1,000 people will be taken out by this devastating virus. We don’t know how many people will be infected today but we know many will be. The solution... starts here. It begins with education. It begins with passionate young people like you showing their peers that there is a better way. There is a way to live a long, good life—we want these people to be grandparents. We want them to have hope in their futures. That is what you offer them. You offer them a way to say no to the virus, and you offer them what’s far more important: a pathway out of despair, and into eternal hope. You cannot underestimate the importance of what we are doing here.”
Andy and Sally and I began. One of the very best moments for teachers is when you see the “aha!” moments in your students’ faces, and there were SO many of those as we went through this! Especially when we brought in the soccer analogy, we saw the Peer Educators open their eyes wider and begin nodding their heads. I made Colin get up and stand opposite me. “Bongoni,” I said, to one of the peer educators. “Do you think I could beat Colin in a soccer match? You should probably know I’ve never played soccer on a team before, and I haven’t practiced. And just for fun, let’s say that I’m up against Colin when he was on the Olympic track team for Rhodesia. Could I beat him, do you think?”
Bongoni looked at me and raised his eyebrows. “If you haven’t practiced or anything...? No, I don’t think you could beat him.”
“Agreed!” I said. “In this situation, I’m going to say that Colin—my opponent—represents Death and Despair. And that’s what you’re fighting, as Reach4Life peer educators. You are going into the classrooms, and trying to give these students a hope that can triumph over despair, and a plan for their future that will help them defeat an early grave. But this is NOT an easy competition, is it? Your classrooms are packed with 40, 50, 60 students. Many of them will be rooting for the opposing team, even. They may not like you, they may want to destroy you. AND—there’s a ton of cultural pressure for these kids TO be having sex at young ages, and to not worry about protection.
“That means,” I said, “If you want to win this game, you have to go in with every trick and skill and strategy you’ve got. You need to be prepared. You need to have practiced. You will not win this game if you don’t play to win.”
“Thank you Colin, you can sit down,” I said. Colin’s eyes twinkled and he obliged. “How do I win a soccer game?” I asked the peer educators.
“You score points,” Thandi offered.
“Yes! I have to score goals. I will NOT win a soccer game if I just dribble the ball all over the field, I HAVE to get the ball into the goal if I want to win the game. The GAME, guys, is any one of these Reach4Life lessons that you’re teaching. Okay? You’re going into the classroom, with that lesson, and by the time you leave the classroom, you want to have WON that game, you want to have GOTTEN that message through to your kids. And the goal box contains your big ideas. What are the main ideas you’re trying to get across? THAT’S what’s in the goal box. And unless you get your ball to THOSE goals—you can’t win this game. Every move you make on a soccer field is ultimately aimed at getting your ball into that goal box, and when you’re teaching a lesson, everything you do must work towards communicating that MAIN idea.”
We went on to explain the rest of the lesson components, and I continued to act out the soccer equivalent. Andy and Sally helped demonstrate what “practice” looks like (which relates to teachers preparing for their lessons) by doing push-ups and soccer moves. Andy was especially pleased, I think, to show how many push-ups he could do. :) I kept making Colin get up to face me and look ferocious and then I would make him sit back down. At one point, we were demonstrating the “kick-off” (i.e. the lesson’s introductory “hook” or, in technical terms, the anticipatory set), and Colin and I both kicked the ball. Death and Despair clearly had a stronger kick-off than Reach4Life did, but I told everyone, “Okay, but PRETEND mine was better.”
It was really, really fun. :)
We ate lunch in the courtyard to soak up a little of that winter sunshine and got a chance to talk to the peer educators more. I loved that part—Andy, Sally, and I have been consistently blown away by how astute the peer educators are, and it’s awesome hearing snippets of their stories. When I asked some of the guys if there was anything specific that they’d like us to cover, Mandla said in his quiet voice, “Well, sometimes there are the big boys in the back of the class who are corrupt… They are always the ones who are the most difficult, and you know, sometimes they might be older than you. What do you do if those guys say to you, ‘I’m going to come after school and kill you’?”
I stared at Mandla, incredulous. “You have students saying they’re going to come after school and KILL you?”
“Yes...” he said quietly. “They say that we are stealing their girlfriends, because sometimes their girlfriends decide they want to wait for marriage to have sex, so they say we are taking their girlfriends and because of that they want to kill us. So, what should we do in cases like that?”
Bongoni posed another question. “Sometimes girls may come to us and tell us they are interested in Reach4Life, but really, they are only interested in us. Like, maybe they want to date us. What should we do in situations like that?”
Simphiwe explained the situation further. “Many of these girls see only men that want to abuse them, or pay them for sex, or are just corrupt. They see someone like Bongoni, and they see that he is a good man. So, their reasons might be good for wanting to date him… But it is still a difficult situation for our Peer Educators.”
No kidding. I did my best to give them ideas for how to handle those situations, with Simphiwe chiming in at times. Where do you begin with something like that??
After lunch, Andy went over how to give a good lecture, and then at 3, we called it a day. It was a GREAT day. I loved it.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Writing this now on Monday, 7/18. Must... finish... Soweto... blog!!
Gift, Tlhocks, and Tshepo didn’t show up on Wednesday. I worried that this indicated they’d felt the training was useless until Thandi told me otherwise. “Tlhocks has to work; Tshepo has a job interview; and Gift has a disabled brother who can’t walk. And… today is his medication day, so Gift has to take him.” Thandi shrugged. “These are... our conditions.”
Speaking of conditions, Thandi, incidentally, was late on Day 2 because she’d gotten in a car accident with a taxi. It was entirely the taxi’s fault, and the driver had admitted as much, but he’s not insured. Thandi, then, will need to take care of it on her own time and on her own dime. Colin told us that the taxi drivers’ unions are extremely powerful here—so much so that if a police-man arrests a taxi-driver, there’s enough power in the taxi-drivers’ union that they could kill the police-man for giving them trouble and most likely get away with it. Yeesh.
Gift wasn’t able to come on Day 3 either, because he once again had to take care of his brother. Apparently when he told his family he had to go to Peer Educating Training they said, “It’s not like you’re learning anything that will get you 5,000 rand [the South African currency]. You can stay home.” Thandi told us Gift felt terribly about this. She also explained that, to many South Africans, volunteering is perceived as something only “losers” do who can’t get a job. Our Peer Educators therefore, are not only dealing with huge classes, skeptical students who are often hostile, a message that runs counter to the culture and the popular sentiments of the students, and no pay… they are also fighting a perception that they are losers for fighting to spread a message that South Africa desperately needs. How dedicated must these guys be?? No wonder we were so blown away by them.
Simphiwe once more rallied us together with a song, which meant we commenced once more about 45 minutes after our “official” start time. Andy and Sally had asked me if I would start the day with a reflection from the Bible, so I read from Isaiah 40. I told the PEs, “This chapter has been rocking my world lately. Do you have that expression? Rocking my world?” They nodded. “Yeah. It’s totally been rocking my world.”
After the reflection, we wanted to give them practice engaging in discussions. It sounds like most of our PEs teach in the manner they’ve been taught in: namely, the teacher talks AT them and the students minimally engage. We really wanted to give our PEs teaching techniques beyond just “sermonizing,” and they seemed to get into the discussion conversation. Many of them piped up with thoughts on the pros and cons of using the discussion method in class, and offered up ideas of how it might be received into their culture. We had a new attendee on Wednesday—Job—who has been a PE for several years and is clearly passionate about it. He talked confidently and quickly seemed to process the ideas we were giving him. Zimkhita, also—the mama with the baby-- had great things to say. In fact, at one point Sally offered to hold the baby so that Zimkhita could take notes. Colin got a great picture of Sally holding this baby in the sunshine streaming in through the window. “I have a grand-baby on the way so I need to practice,” she said. I think she was in heaven!
I got to lead this portion of our teaching, which I enjoyed; discussions are probably my favorite teaching method. We didn’t get through all the powerpoint slides Andy had assembled for me, which we’d been projecting on the painted concrete wall—but that was because we had so much to talk about as a group! Indicator #1 that the discussion has gone well. :)
After tea time (heart the tea time), Sally led a great lesson on small groups, which we then followed with a small group activity. There’s one Reach4Life lesson which highlights all the different reasons young people choose to have sex. We asked the Peer Educators to discuss which reasons they thought would be the most compelling to their students, and to talk with each other about how they would counsel a student wanting to have sex for those reasons. Once again, it was fascinating to hear the PEs discuss their culture. I was with three of the quietest PEs: Mandla, Bongoni, and the youngest girl there, Flozi, so it was great to hear them talk more. We found out later that Flozi is actually still in school—she’s in 11th grade, and leads a secret Reach4Life discussion group at her school. Apparently she asked her principal, an Indian man, if they could do Reach4Life in schools. He refused, because of the curriculum’s Christian components. Flozi explained, “He is a Hindu, so he doesn’t want Christianity in his schools.” She told us the group would get in trouble if the principal found them meeting, so the group tries to stay hidden during the breaks, when they meet. Flozi comes across as extremely shy, so to think of her leading a clandestine R4L group in her school, risking punishment from her principal for doing so, once again made me feel blown away by the determination of my South African peers.
Lunch outside, which was followed by an introduction to Learner Disabilities, led by Andy. I was surprised to realize what a new concept “visual and hearing disabilities” were to the Peer Educators—it seemed like they had never considered that many students in their classes might have difficulty reading the board. I’m not sure why this would be; perhaps, since students there are never tested for those conditions, teachers simply don’t consider that they should accommodate for them. Regardless, it was exciting to see many of the PEs realize there were simple indicators and simple ways to problem-solve something as basic as a vision problem.
End of Day 2.
Day 3 was a half day: Andy finished the talk on learning disabilities and then we spent an hour getting feedback on the training experience from the Peer Educators. Most fascinating point from the learning disabilities lesson: if a kid had an epileptic fit in the context our PEs are working in, the fit would always, always be credited as a spiritual possession—like, a demonic attack. Our PEs were shocked to hear Andy’s scientific explanation behind what causes a seizure, and many of them were curious as to how they should then handle those situations. Job said, “Many times, when a child is shaking like that, we are asked to pray for them because they know we Peer Educators are Christians. So what should I do? I don’t know if it would work to say it is just a medical condition, because everyone would think it is for spiritual reasons.”
We acknowledged that in some cases, it MIGHT be for spiritual reasons, but the vast majority of instances would be medical. I said, “Maybe pray for protection from both spiritual AND physical ailments. You know? Pray for the student in the moment, and then later, try to encourage one of the student’s family members to get him or her to a clinic.”
I also noticed during this lesson how quick the Peer Educators were to work around the simulated disabilities Andy was giving them. To simulate a learning disability, he had Tlhocks write his name on a board with his hands tied together; Tlhocks quickly made the adjustment, and wrote his name in perfect block letters. Then Andy had him write his name on the board with his hands tied behind his back; once again, Tlhocks worked it out. Though he took longer to write it, he once again got his name on the board in near perfect letters. Mandla, also, impressed Andy in another simulated disability task. Andy told Mandla, while marveling at his painstaking work, “Most people can’t do this at all!” Yet Mandla carefully, deliberately, determinedly guided his pen through the task Andy had assigned, ultimately completing the task without any mistakes.
Perhaps this is a generalization, but it made me think, “This is how these guys have LIVED. The odds are against them, but they figure out a way to succeed, regardless.” Mandla, for instance, is a self-taught electrician. Someone said on the first day, “If you want to hook up your computer to the TV, ask Mandla. Or if you need your house wired, or your phone fixed, or anything done with wires… He’s your guy.” Mandla—and others like him-- have just figured it out.
The feedback session was awesome— really, really encouraging. We had asked the PEs if they felt the training was effective, and, if so, to identify one way that they thought they might change their teaching methods as a result of the training. They almost all spoke up and identified something specific from the training that they would be taking away. In fact, when I saw Bongoni that morning, the first thing he said to me was, “Hey! Last night I met with my home cell group at church, and I tried the discussion method! We were talking about the money topic, and the discussion worked really well. Normally, you know, someone just gives a long talk but the discussion was good.”
How cool is that??!
Tomorrow (as in Tuesday), we’ll head into the schools WITH the Peer Educators to observe them and give them feedback. So I will actually get to SEE these schools tomorrow!! I believe we’ll be observing both Job and Mandla. I can’t wait!
We’re coming off of a weekend at Sun City, where Colin took us out on safari drives through a giant game park. We saw so many cool things!!! If you’re my facebook friend, be sure to check out the pictures. It was great to have a bit of a breather, since from here on out we’ll be working non-stop ‘til we fly out. Sally and I continue to feel conflicted as we enjoy the plush accommodations we’re in, and then witness the devastating poverty of Soweto. However, as Andy pointed out early on, “We’re not helping anyone by feeling guilty about where we’re staying. The important thing is that we remember how blessed we are to be here, be thankful, and then do our best to bless the people we’re working with.” Good advice I suppose-- especially since none of us had any part in planning where we’re staying. This is the ever-present conundrum of South Africa: luxury and poverty exist in such stark, radical opposition, I feel like I’m moving through a photo negative world. Where is the rich color of co-mingled diversity? Where is the gray of the in-between? Everything seems to come down to black and white, to blatant disparities, to deeply rifted dichotomies. Everything seems to be drifting towards Darkness and Despair.
But my team, and Colin’s crew, and the Peer Educators, and many others, I KNOW—are fighting darkness, and we’re fighting despair. The opposition is fierce, but we’ll come at them with everything we’ve got. At the end of the day, I remind myself, this holds true: “there in the ground, His body lay; light of the world by darkness slain. Then bursting forth, in glorious day, up from the grave He rose again!” My King is stronger than darkness; my King is stronger than despair. I’m on the victor’s side— and the warriors with me are bound and determined.
Jul 11, 2011
Quoted:
Today, my team spent our last day of orientation getting further acquainted with the South African context-- specifically, we wanted to know what kinds of experiences the kids showing up in our Peer Educators' classrooms are having on a daily basis. Most of what we heard was from two of Prevention Time's primary staff, who grew up in the conditions of the kids they were talking about. What they said was fascinating, and heart-breaking-- I typed down their words as fast as I could.
“I wrote my last paper before graduation under the streetlight outside my home because my dad was an alcoholic and turned off the electricity whenever he wanted to go to sleep. ‘I’m not paying for electricity for no-good children!’ But luckily my bedroom window wasn’t too far away from a streetlight, so I opened my curtains wide and turned my notebook towards the light… I wrote for hours that way.”
“Black magic, witch craft… it’s part of our culture. Ancestral worship is very important—it plays a huge role in black people’s lives. They believe that God DOES exist, that he is somewhere—ask anyone if they are a Christian, they might say yes, because they believe that God exists. ‘I hear about it, I know of it, but I’m not PART of it.'"
Apparently, many children that repeatedly fail in school are told by their families, “You’re called to be a sangorma,”-- in other words, a witch doctor. So, often they give into the call; after all, they’re sick of failing school. Also, children that are “called” to be sangormas almost always become homosexual. “When they get called to this sangorma thing, usually, a man will get a female spirit, or a girl will get a male spirit. If I am a girl, my grandfather’s spirit will call ME. So if I walk into a house where I will be a witch doctor, my family will call me ‘Grandpa.’ It’s never a male spirit that goes to a male child, or a female spirit that goes to a female child. It’s always vice versa—after initiation school, sexuality is always confused.”
Ancestral worship is, "...very deep, and very disturbing. It’s darkness, it’s judgment, you OWE—you spend your life living in debt to someone who is not alive, and you can never finish paying the debt... And you can never get out of poverty, because if you get a job, where does the first paycheck go? You have to buy a cow to slaughter it in sacrifice. You don’t open a bank account, you have to sacrifice to the ancestors.”
“Africans respect their ancestors so much that you can never live for yourself… The more you give to your ancestors, the poorer you become, and you can never give enough… It’s an HONOR for a black man to give to an ancestor. When you are alive, you might be useless, but when you die... man. You are the god."
"So, a normal sickness—a normal problem… it is all complicated by this worship and also by poverty. ‘My child is struggling,’ and they can’t afford to go see a normal person, a doctor, so they go to the witch doctor... Sangormas are everywhere.”
"Our young people are 50/50—we are open-minded. We grow up with ancestral worship, but we question it. So that just means our Peer Educators have an important role to play. If we don’t intervene, if the church doesn’t get to them early before they’re fully into this thing, the parents will win... If they’re not won to Christ, it will continue. Kids will still believe that whites owe them, they will keep that anger alive, they will keep watching movies that show a white man abusing a black man.”
One of the men we were talking to grew up without a father, so he said he didn’t care what he did to other people-- he said cultural conditions feed into crime and corruption. “Until Christ comes into your life, you are a danger to everyone around you. Because of all the crisis around you, you end up being a nobody. Only God can change that.” He also said there's feelings of tremendous anger: many black South Africans feel like, 'somebody OWES me.' “It's post-apartheid trauma... If you’re driving a car, and I can’t afford one—you OWE me.”
Colin told us a story about one teacher who mentioned “father” in a lesson, but the child had no understanding of what that word meant. “Who takes care of you?” “I do.” “No—who provides for you and your siblings?” “Me.” “So… you’re the father?” “...The what?” Poverty drives the pandemic.
"A woman has AIDS and gets a government grant of 800 rand for medication. But she has a starving family. So, does she use the money to get medicine to help her live longer, or does she use it to feed her family? She uses it to feed her family."
They talked about a popular conception of women-- basically, that they're valueless—polygamy is a common practice culture in some tribal cultures, but it perpetuates the problem. Or older men want to marry younger girls. “A man is allowed to take as many as he wants, the younger the better.”
Let's end on a more positive note, shall we?
I pointed out that, as overwhelming as all these problems are, I truly believe (I have to believe) we are on the victor’s side. The Bible is filled with accounts where God triumphs over impossible odds. THESE are impossible odds; but the realm of the impossible is God’s playground. There's a story of Elisha in 2nd Kings 6 when he is surrounded by armies. He's there with a servant who's terrified, but Elisha tells him, "Don't worry. Those who are with us are more than those who are with them." Then he prays, "God, open his eyes so that he can see.” In that moment, the servant's eyes are suddenly opened and he can see thousands of angels lining the hills around them, with fiery swords. Elisha says again, “Those who are with us are MORE than those who are with them.”
If I don’t hold on to that, I will succumb to despair. And perhaps the reason why so many young people succumb to despair is because they only see the opposing armies and odds—they can’t see the angels. I pray, then: “God… open their eyes so that they can see.”
One of the women we were talking to pointed out that this program is OF African design, it’s a solution coming straight from Africa, and it is experiencing success. She said, “There are SO many programs out there, but this is a welcome program. I can’t remember us ever walking out of a school with them telling us ‘NO’, we can't be there. And it is so encouraging for Africans to be told, YOU can be part of the solution. Not just, ‘people need to help you,’ but that YOU can be part of the solution. And the fact that it’s led by Peer Educators, people that come from the same neighborhood, who deal with the same problems—to hear them say, ‘It’s possible,’ is incredibly powerful.
Tomorrow we go into the Soweto ghetto to work with the Peer Educators for the first time. I can't wait. :)
“I wrote my last paper before graduation under the streetlight outside my home because my dad was an alcoholic and turned off the electricity whenever he wanted to go to sleep. ‘I’m not paying for electricity for no-good children!’ But luckily my bedroom window wasn’t too far away from a streetlight, so I opened my curtains wide and turned my notebook towards the light… I wrote for hours that way.”
“Black magic, witch craft… it’s part of our culture. Ancestral worship is very important—it plays a huge role in black people’s lives. They believe that God DOES exist, that he is somewhere—ask anyone if they are a Christian, they might say yes, because they believe that God exists. ‘I hear about it, I know of it, but I’m not PART of it.'"
Apparently, many children that repeatedly fail in school are told by their families, “You’re called to be a sangorma,”-- in other words, a witch doctor. So, often they give into the call; after all, they’re sick of failing school. Also, children that are “called” to be sangormas almost always become homosexual. “When they get called to this sangorma thing, usually, a man will get a female spirit, or a girl will get a male spirit. If I am a girl, my grandfather’s spirit will call ME. So if I walk into a house where I will be a witch doctor, my family will call me ‘Grandpa.’ It’s never a male spirit that goes to a male child, or a female spirit that goes to a female child. It’s always vice versa—after initiation school, sexuality is always confused.”
Ancestral worship is, "...very deep, and very disturbing. It’s darkness, it’s judgment, you OWE—you spend your life living in debt to someone who is not alive, and you can never finish paying the debt... And you can never get out of poverty, because if you get a job, where does the first paycheck go? You have to buy a cow to slaughter it in sacrifice. You don’t open a bank account, you have to sacrifice to the ancestors.”
“Africans respect their ancestors so much that you can never live for yourself… The more you give to your ancestors, the poorer you become, and you can never give enough… It’s an HONOR for a black man to give to an ancestor. When you are alive, you might be useless, but when you die... man. You are the god."
"So, a normal sickness—a normal problem… it is all complicated by this worship and also by poverty. ‘My child is struggling,’ and they can’t afford to go see a normal person, a doctor, so they go to the witch doctor... Sangormas are everywhere.”
"Our young people are 50/50—we are open-minded. We grow up with ancestral worship, but we question it. So that just means our Peer Educators have an important role to play. If we don’t intervene, if the church doesn’t get to them early before they’re fully into this thing, the parents will win... If they’re not won to Christ, it will continue. Kids will still believe that whites owe them, they will keep that anger alive, they will keep watching movies that show a white man abusing a black man.”
One of the men we were talking to grew up without a father, so he said he didn’t care what he did to other people-- he said cultural conditions feed into crime and corruption. “Until Christ comes into your life, you are a danger to everyone around you. Because of all the crisis around you, you end up being a nobody. Only God can change that.” He also said there's feelings of tremendous anger: many black South Africans feel like, 'somebody OWES me.' “It's post-apartheid trauma... If you’re driving a car, and I can’t afford one—you OWE me.”
Colin told us a story about one teacher who mentioned “father” in a lesson, but the child had no understanding of what that word meant. “Who takes care of you?” “I do.” “No—who provides for you and your siblings?” “Me.” “So… you’re the father?” “...The what?” Poverty drives the pandemic.
"A woman has AIDS and gets a government grant of 800 rand for medication. But she has a starving family. So, does she use the money to get medicine to help her live longer, or does she use it to feed her family? She uses it to feed her family."
They talked about a popular conception of women-- basically, that they're valueless—polygamy is a common practice culture in some tribal cultures, but it perpetuates the problem. Or older men want to marry younger girls. “A man is allowed to take as many as he wants, the younger the better.”
Let's end on a more positive note, shall we?
I pointed out that, as overwhelming as all these problems are, I truly believe (I have to believe) we are on the victor’s side. The Bible is filled with accounts where God triumphs over impossible odds. THESE are impossible odds; but the realm of the impossible is God’s playground. There's a story of Elisha in 2nd Kings 6 when he is surrounded by armies. He's there with a servant who's terrified, but Elisha tells him, "Don't worry. Those who are with us are more than those who are with them." Then he prays, "God, open his eyes so that he can see.” In that moment, the servant's eyes are suddenly opened and he can see thousands of angels lining the hills around them, with fiery swords. Elisha says again, “Those who are with us are MORE than those who are with them.”
If I don’t hold on to that, I will succumb to despair. And perhaps the reason why so many young people succumb to despair is because they only see the opposing armies and odds—they can’t see the angels. I pray, then: “God… open their eyes so that they can see.”
One of the women we were talking to pointed out that this program is OF African design, it’s a solution coming straight from Africa, and it is experiencing success. She said, “There are SO many programs out there, but this is a welcome program. I can’t remember us ever walking out of a school with them telling us ‘NO’, we can't be there. And it is so encouraging for Africans to be told, YOU can be part of the solution. Not just, ‘people need to help you,’ but that YOU can be part of the solution. And the fact that it’s led by Peer Educators, people that come from the same neighborhood, who deal with the same problems—to hear them say, ‘It’s possible,’ is incredibly powerful.
Tomorrow we go into the Soweto ghetto to work with the Peer Educators for the first time. I can't wait. :)
Jul 9, 2011
First evening; first day
Guys, for some reason, blogger won't let me upload the pictures for this blog. :( Here's the written version for now-- I'll try to get the pictures up asap. If you're my facebook friend, they're all there.
Well, it’s definitely winter here.
After 20 hours in the air, we finally touched down in Johannesburg at about 5pm their time (8am in Seattle), and the sun was already setting—the big red orb of it.
[sunset pic]
Today, I wore a t-shirt, a cardigan, a jacket, AND a scarf to keep warm. Here I am on the stoop of our Bed and Breakfast—it’s pretty, isn’t it?
[me B&B pic]
“We” is myself, and the two Wheaton college professors I’ll be working with: Andy and Sally.
[andy and sally pic]
They’re both incredibly nice—I think we’re all on our best behavior with each other right now. In fact, I’m looking forward to the moment we start throwing some sarcasm around. Andy has been here once before and is our trip lead; he’s the one that’s planned the lessons we’ll be carrying out with Peer Educators. When he describes anything, he lifts his eyebrows just a bit and gives a boyish grin as though he expects we might not believe what he’s just told us. Though he’s an esteemed retired professor, he often reminds me of a kid who’s just stolen a cookie from the cookie jar. Sally is my roommate and will be leading us in our evaluations of the Peer Educators. I don’t know how to describe her other than incredibly sweet. I think we’ll get along great. I also loved that Sally had the same reaction as I did when coming into our room at the B&B—
[B&B pic]
“It’s beautiful...” she marveled, and then looked at me with a hint of concern. “Almost a little too beautiful—I think it might be hard to come back to this every day after being in Soweto.”
Therein lies the rub of South Africa. Everywhere we’ve been today has been gorgeous. We came down to an exquisite breakfast:
[breakfast pics]
... And spent the day meeting in a cosmopolitan hotel. There, we drank tea served in silver pots, ate meticulously prepared lunches, and finished up with gourmet hot chocolate. And yet, all this wealth exists behind tall, imposing walls—EVERY structure we pass it seems, is behind an enormous wall.
[wall pictures]
Many walls have barbs or spikes lining the top.
[spike pic]
Colin Bishop, our South African host and the founder of Prevention Time, spoke to us about the enormous disparity between the wealthy and the poor here. “The situation is absolutely dire,” he said quietly on the drive away from the airport last night. “The rich are getting richer and the poor are getting poorer. South Africa has the highest HIV infection rate in the world... And corruption is everywhere.”
From what I understand, the system of apartheid— i.e. legalized racism and the forced segregation of blacks and whites (these are the “PC” terms)— functioned on a basis of fear. Because whites elevated themselves through oppressing the blacks, the blacks developed ferocious animosity towards the whites. During the 1970’s riots, where students massively protested the apartheid system, the blacks tried to initiate their protests in the style of MLK Jr.: with non-violent action. However, the police-force retaliated by slaughtering members of the protests in huge numbers. That, in turn prompted violence and arson from blacks. One horrific method of revenge Colin told us about was “necklacing”—angry black protestors picked out anyone that looked as though they might be opposing the rebellion, and then trapped them inside a car tire, filled the tire with petrol, and then lit it on fire. The victim slowly burned to death—Colin himself was almost a victim of necklacing. This violence resulted in whites’ deeper fear of the blacks, which perpetuated racist tension. Though apartheid was abolished roughly 20 years ago, Johannesburg still bears the effects of fear, violence, and racial tension—which is further complicated by tension among the different African tribes. Wealthy people live behind walls—
[another wall pic]
... While violence and corruption still exist in abundance. We witnessed this in subtle ways while being taken around the city by Colin. When spotting a guard in a parking lot, Sally asked, “Are those guards effective in protecting people’s cars?”
“Not really...” Colin replied. “Perhaps their presence is a deterrent, but if someone wants to steal a car, they could just shoot the guard. Most often the guard would just let them take the car.”
“Have you ever had your car stolen?” I asked Colin.
“We’ve had five cars stolen over the years...” Colin mused in his precise South African accent.
He echoed something similar when we asked about the large guard dogs we sometimes saw.
[guard dog pic]
“Do the guard dogs help prevent burglaries?”
“Well... if someone wanted to rob a house, they would just shoot the dog,” Colin said.
Our guard dog at the B&B, by the way, is not so imposing.
[sleeping dog]
Guns must be common in Johannesburg, if this sign outside of an apartment complex is any indication:
[gun sign]
Another hint of the corruption that exists in this city: while looking for a parking spot in the mall garage, we circled the top level several times. Andy asked, “Are there other levels we could try?”
“Well... yes,” Colin said. “But this is the safest level.”
Colin also told us a story of when someone bashed in his car window and reached his hand in to take Colin’s phone. “But...” Colin said, with a twinkle in his eye, “I made sure he regretted trying that.”
“What did you do??” I asked.
“I grabbed his hand, first of all, to stop him from taking the phone... and then I pulled him over and rammed his head against the window several times. Of course, that was many years ago.” So you can appreciate the irony of this remark, let me briefly characterize Colin:
[Colin pic]
Colin is 6’3” and solidly built—he was a rugby player for most of his life. Now, after suffering some back injuries, he walks carefully but still makes an imposing figure. Still, Colin’s quiet, articulate way of speaking and his chivalrous gestures (he gave me a laptop to use for the duration of my stay, for example) make his foremost impression that of a meticulous gentleman. Furthermore, he is one of the most devout Christians and one of the most determined humanitarians I’ve ever met. To imagine him bashing a thief’s head against the car was a vivid picture of what can happen, living life in Johannesburg! “I had to show him that he couldn’t just expect to get away with that every time...” Colin calmly explained.
* * * But don’t worry Mom, I’m being super careful. * * *
Despite all of this, my primary experience in Johannesburg thus far has been incredibly cosmopolitan. The bulk of today was spent in Mandela Square,
[mandela pic]
... Eating gourmet food in a stunning hotel restaurant to the soundtrack of live piano playing.
[hotel pic]
[bruschetta pic]
In this first meeting, Colin explained his take on the AIDS epidemic in South Africa and the logic behind the Christian component of the Reach4Life curriculum the Peer Educators will be implementing. This, to me, was fascinating.
“Behavior is driven by values, and values are driven by one’s belief system,” Colin said. “If you want to change behavior, you need to start with the belief system. The primary faith in Africa is ancestral worship... Africans believe that, if you want to prevent bad things from happening to you, you need to appease your dead relatives with sacrifices and rituals. It’s a very hopeless faith, there’s no saving component, there’s no higher power to turn to.”
“It sounds fear-based,” I said.
“And culture and faith are completely intertwined in Africa,” he continued. “That’s not the case in America-- American culture has nothing to do with what religion you are. Muslim faith and culture are intertwined, you can see... and here, culture and faith are intertwined. The AIDS epidemic has spread through premarital sex, transmarital sex, polygamy... rape, incest, and commercial sex— all of which occur with huge frequency, and many of these are acceptable cultural practices... The push to prevent AIDS from spreading has everything to do with sex staying in the context of marriage and practicing safe sex.
“Now,” he continued, “A man named Dr. Clem Sunter published a book some years ago on the HIV/AIDS epidemic, and it’s essentially considered the bible when dealing with this issue. I read it, and there was one line that stood out to me above all others. The author had written, ‘It is the ideal to get young people to stop living immorally and to live a moral life. But it is unfair to ask young people to live morally without giving them the power to do it. So we don’t demand abstinence from our young people.’”
Later, Colin would go on to point out one of the practical problems with that contention: at this point, the country’s main effort at curbing the AIDS problem is by making condoms available in ready amounts all over the place. “But then, you get a 12-year-old who’s handed a fistful of condoms, and what’s his first question? ‘What do I do with these?’ And the answer he gets is, ‘Well, you have safe sex.’ So then you get a 12-year-old who wouldn’t have thought about having sex until he was 16 starting to have sex at age 12. And often, they get sick of using condoms, so then they’re not having safe sex, they’re just having sex.”
Apparently, after reading that statement in the book—“It is unfair to ask young people to live morally without giving them the power to do it” — he called up the author and asked to meet with him. He told Dr. Sunter that he was a pastor and said, “Doctor, you state that it’s unfair to ask young people to live morally without giving them the power to do it, but I know of a power that can transform behavior— the power of Christ.” He went on to explain his reasoning: “Man is essentially immoral; he cannot heal himself, he cannot transform himself. Even if you have the principles right, you still need POWER to transform—and that must come from God.”
“I tend to think of sin as falling into a pit,” I told him. “The only way you can get out of that pit is by Christ grabbing your hand and pulling you out. You can’t climb out of a deep pit on your own.”
“That’s right,” he said. “So Dr. Sunter recommended that I develop a program that incorporated the gospel and he’s supported Reach4Life ever since. In fact, when Reach4Life reached its millionth student, this author celebrated its success more than almost anyone.”
Whether or not you agree with Colin’s philosophy, the statistics overwhelmingly support it: where Reach4Life (R4L) has been implemented in schools, the pregnancy rate has dropped to almost nil. Furthermore, the pass rate has gone from 27% to over 90%. Additionally, other sources contest that Christianity has proven to be overwhelmingly effective in combatting the AIDS problem. A book that I’m reading called Love in the Time of AIDS states, “Christianity... helped to rework intimate worlds in South Africa, and low HIV rates in predominantly Islamic countries invite further attention to questions of faith” (Hunter 29). Also, I remember my pastor Richard quoting an atheist who had said something along the lines of, “Africa needs Christianity. I may not agree with the concepts, but the ideas of moral living, redemption, and living for a higher purpose are critical to the healing of Africa.”
For all these reasons, Colin is adamant about the Christian gospel being incorporated into this AIDS education curriculum. I wouldn’t have been a tough sell on that point to begin with, but he managed to dispel any skepticism I may have had.
One last story before I conclude this incredibly long blog: the first native South African I conversed with besides Colin was the young black man who helped me get my cell phone set up. As he waited for minutes to load he looked at me and grinned. “Are you engaged? Married?”
“Um, yes,” I said, and promptly turned bright red.
“Ohhh, okay,” he said. “Married?”
“Engaged,” I said, and made a mental note to put a ring on my left ring finger.
*** Lies all lies.***
Andy, Sally, and Colin have all determined to keep a special eye on me—which I appreciate!
Tomorrow, we'll go to a Zulu church service and do more planning in the afternoon-- Colin kindly gave us an easy weekend schedule to help us recover from jet lag. Monday we'll meet with the entire team, and Tuesday begins our work with the Peer Educators. I can't wait for that part!
Well, it’s definitely winter here.
After 20 hours in the air, we finally touched down in Johannesburg at about 5pm their time (8am in Seattle), and the sun was already setting—the big red orb of it.
[sunset pic]
Today, I wore a t-shirt, a cardigan, a jacket, AND a scarf to keep warm. Here I am on the stoop of our Bed and Breakfast—it’s pretty, isn’t it?
[me B&B pic]
“We” is myself, and the two Wheaton college professors I’ll be working with: Andy and Sally.
[andy and sally pic]
They’re both incredibly nice—I think we’re all on our best behavior with each other right now. In fact, I’m looking forward to the moment we start throwing some sarcasm around. Andy has been here once before and is our trip lead; he’s the one that’s planned the lessons we’ll be carrying out with Peer Educators. When he describes anything, he lifts his eyebrows just a bit and gives a boyish grin as though he expects we might not believe what he’s just told us. Though he’s an esteemed retired professor, he often reminds me of a kid who’s just stolen a cookie from the cookie jar. Sally is my roommate and will be leading us in our evaluations of the Peer Educators. I don’t know how to describe her other than incredibly sweet. I think we’ll get along great. I also loved that Sally had the same reaction as I did when coming into our room at the B&B—
[B&B pic]
“It’s beautiful...” she marveled, and then looked at me with a hint of concern. “Almost a little too beautiful—I think it might be hard to come back to this every day after being in Soweto.”
Therein lies the rub of South Africa. Everywhere we’ve been today has been gorgeous. We came down to an exquisite breakfast:
[breakfast pics]
... And spent the day meeting in a cosmopolitan hotel. There, we drank tea served in silver pots, ate meticulously prepared lunches, and finished up with gourmet hot chocolate. And yet, all this wealth exists behind tall, imposing walls—EVERY structure we pass it seems, is behind an enormous wall.
[wall pictures]
Many walls have barbs or spikes lining the top.
[spike pic]
Colin Bishop, our South African host and the founder of Prevention Time, spoke to us about the enormous disparity between the wealthy and the poor here. “The situation is absolutely dire,” he said quietly on the drive away from the airport last night. “The rich are getting richer and the poor are getting poorer. South Africa has the highest HIV infection rate in the world... And corruption is everywhere.”
From what I understand, the system of apartheid— i.e. legalized racism and the forced segregation of blacks and whites (these are the “PC” terms)— functioned on a basis of fear. Because whites elevated themselves through oppressing the blacks, the blacks developed ferocious animosity towards the whites. During the 1970’s riots, where students massively protested the apartheid system, the blacks tried to initiate their protests in the style of MLK Jr.: with non-violent action. However, the police-force retaliated by slaughtering members of the protests in huge numbers. That, in turn prompted violence and arson from blacks. One horrific method of revenge Colin told us about was “necklacing”—angry black protestors picked out anyone that looked as though they might be opposing the rebellion, and then trapped them inside a car tire, filled the tire with petrol, and then lit it on fire. The victim slowly burned to death—Colin himself was almost a victim of necklacing. This violence resulted in whites’ deeper fear of the blacks, which perpetuated racist tension. Though apartheid was abolished roughly 20 years ago, Johannesburg still bears the effects of fear, violence, and racial tension—which is further complicated by tension among the different African tribes. Wealthy people live behind walls—
[another wall pic]
... While violence and corruption still exist in abundance. We witnessed this in subtle ways while being taken around the city by Colin. When spotting a guard in a parking lot, Sally asked, “Are those guards effective in protecting people’s cars?”
“Not really...” Colin replied. “Perhaps their presence is a deterrent, but if someone wants to steal a car, they could just shoot the guard. Most often the guard would just let them take the car.”
“Have you ever had your car stolen?” I asked Colin.
“We’ve had five cars stolen over the years...” Colin mused in his precise South African accent.
He echoed something similar when we asked about the large guard dogs we sometimes saw.
[guard dog pic]
“Do the guard dogs help prevent burglaries?”
“Well... if someone wanted to rob a house, they would just shoot the dog,” Colin said.
Our guard dog at the B&B, by the way, is not so imposing.
[sleeping dog]
Guns must be common in Johannesburg, if this sign outside of an apartment complex is any indication:
[gun sign]
Another hint of the corruption that exists in this city: while looking for a parking spot in the mall garage, we circled the top level several times. Andy asked, “Are there other levels we could try?”
“Well... yes,” Colin said. “But this is the safest level.”
Colin also told us a story of when someone bashed in his car window and reached his hand in to take Colin’s phone. “But...” Colin said, with a twinkle in his eye, “I made sure he regretted trying that.”
“What did you do??” I asked.
“I grabbed his hand, first of all, to stop him from taking the phone... and then I pulled him over and rammed his head against the window several times. Of course, that was many years ago.” So you can appreciate the irony of this remark, let me briefly characterize Colin:
[Colin pic]
Colin is 6’3” and solidly built—he was a rugby player for most of his life. Now, after suffering some back injuries, he walks carefully but still makes an imposing figure. Still, Colin’s quiet, articulate way of speaking and his chivalrous gestures (he gave me a laptop to use for the duration of my stay, for example) make his foremost impression that of a meticulous gentleman. Furthermore, he is one of the most devout Christians and one of the most determined humanitarians I’ve ever met. To imagine him bashing a thief’s head against the car was a vivid picture of what can happen, living life in Johannesburg! “I had to show him that he couldn’t just expect to get away with that every time...” Colin calmly explained.
* * * But don’t worry Mom, I’m being super careful. * * *
Despite all of this, my primary experience in Johannesburg thus far has been incredibly cosmopolitan. The bulk of today was spent in Mandela Square,
[mandela pic]
... Eating gourmet food in a stunning hotel restaurant to the soundtrack of live piano playing.
[hotel pic]
[bruschetta pic]
In this first meeting, Colin explained his take on the AIDS epidemic in South Africa and the logic behind the Christian component of the Reach4Life curriculum the Peer Educators will be implementing. This, to me, was fascinating.
“Behavior is driven by values, and values are driven by one’s belief system,” Colin said. “If you want to change behavior, you need to start with the belief system. The primary faith in Africa is ancestral worship... Africans believe that, if you want to prevent bad things from happening to you, you need to appease your dead relatives with sacrifices and rituals. It’s a very hopeless faith, there’s no saving component, there’s no higher power to turn to.”
“It sounds fear-based,” I said.
“And culture and faith are completely intertwined in Africa,” he continued. “That’s not the case in America-- American culture has nothing to do with what religion you are. Muslim faith and culture are intertwined, you can see... and here, culture and faith are intertwined. The AIDS epidemic has spread through premarital sex, transmarital sex, polygamy... rape, incest, and commercial sex— all of which occur with huge frequency, and many of these are acceptable cultural practices... The push to prevent AIDS from spreading has everything to do with sex staying in the context of marriage and practicing safe sex.
“Now,” he continued, “A man named Dr. Clem Sunter published a book some years ago on the HIV/AIDS epidemic, and it’s essentially considered the bible when dealing with this issue. I read it, and there was one line that stood out to me above all others. The author had written, ‘It is the ideal to get young people to stop living immorally and to live a moral life. But it is unfair to ask young people to live morally without giving them the power to do it. So we don’t demand abstinence from our young people.’”
Later, Colin would go on to point out one of the practical problems with that contention: at this point, the country’s main effort at curbing the AIDS problem is by making condoms available in ready amounts all over the place. “But then, you get a 12-year-old who’s handed a fistful of condoms, and what’s his first question? ‘What do I do with these?’ And the answer he gets is, ‘Well, you have safe sex.’ So then you get a 12-year-old who wouldn’t have thought about having sex until he was 16 starting to have sex at age 12. And often, they get sick of using condoms, so then they’re not having safe sex, they’re just having sex.”
Apparently, after reading that statement in the book—“It is unfair to ask young people to live morally without giving them the power to do it” — he called up the author and asked to meet with him. He told Dr. Sunter that he was a pastor and said, “Doctor, you state that it’s unfair to ask young people to live morally without giving them the power to do it, but I know of a power that can transform behavior— the power of Christ.” He went on to explain his reasoning: “Man is essentially immoral; he cannot heal himself, he cannot transform himself. Even if you have the principles right, you still need POWER to transform—and that must come from God.”
“I tend to think of sin as falling into a pit,” I told him. “The only way you can get out of that pit is by Christ grabbing your hand and pulling you out. You can’t climb out of a deep pit on your own.”
“That’s right,” he said. “So Dr. Sunter recommended that I develop a program that incorporated the gospel and he’s supported Reach4Life ever since. In fact, when Reach4Life reached its millionth student, this author celebrated its success more than almost anyone.”
Whether or not you agree with Colin’s philosophy, the statistics overwhelmingly support it: where Reach4Life (R4L) has been implemented in schools, the pregnancy rate has dropped to almost nil. Furthermore, the pass rate has gone from 27% to over 90%. Additionally, other sources contest that Christianity has proven to be overwhelmingly effective in combatting the AIDS problem. A book that I’m reading called Love in the Time of AIDS states, “Christianity... helped to rework intimate worlds in South Africa, and low HIV rates in predominantly Islamic countries invite further attention to questions of faith” (Hunter 29). Also, I remember my pastor Richard quoting an atheist who had said something along the lines of, “Africa needs Christianity. I may not agree with the concepts, but the ideas of moral living, redemption, and living for a higher purpose are critical to the healing of Africa.”
For all these reasons, Colin is adamant about the Christian gospel being incorporated into this AIDS education curriculum. I wouldn’t have been a tough sell on that point to begin with, but he managed to dispel any skepticism I may have had.
One last story before I conclude this incredibly long blog: the first native South African I conversed with besides Colin was the young black man who helped me get my cell phone set up. As he waited for minutes to load he looked at me and grinned. “Are you engaged? Married?”
“Um, yes,” I said, and promptly turned bright red.
“Ohhh, okay,” he said. “Married?”
“Engaged,” I said, and made a mental note to put a ring on my left ring finger.
*** Lies all lies.***
Andy, Sally, and Colin have all determined to keep a special eye on me—which I appreciate!
Tomorrow, we'll go to a Zulu church service and do more planning in the afternoon-- Colin kindly gave us an easy weekend schedule to help us recover from jet lag. Monday we'll meet with the entire team, and Tuesday begins our work with the Peer Educators. I can't wait for that part!
Jul 6, 2011
SOUTH AFRICA: the call
Hey folks. For the next three weeks, I'll be in South Africa, working with an organization called Prevention Time. Below is the explanation (copied and pasted from my support letter) of how and why this trip came about. Be checking back for trip updates. I appreciate your prayers and well wishes!!
This is a little story:
Back in 2006, I spent my summer in Malawi with a team of college students, working with Children of the Nations. For two months, I lived at an orphanage in a village called Chiwengo, tutoring the kids, hosting visiting teams, doing rural outreach, and working with my team to show these children love.
It was an unbelievable learning experience for me, but at the end of the summer, I felt acutely that I had received more than I had been able to give. I thought with envy of my friends with medical backgrounds who were able to offer tangible help to people in developing countries, and knew that what I was able to offer the Malawians was extremely limited. I made up my mind then that if I ever came back to Africa, I would want to come with an idea of how I could offer something more tangibly helpful.
I haven't felt the pull to return to Africa since I got back from Malawi that summer. The idea of how I could contribute never arrived, and other than the sweet memories of the kids I worked with, Africa was off my radar. In the meantime, I pursued teaching as a career, and was lucky enough to find a job at Seattle Christian Schools. I LOVE being a teacher, and for the last several years, my passion for teaching has consumed my focus.
Then, Colin Bishop came to Seattle Christian and spoke at chapel.
Colin is a South-African. He’s a soft-spoken older man with a powerful build, and I appreciated him immediately because of how respectfully he addressed our teenage students. He told them stories from his life growing up in Africa, and then transitioned into discussing the organization he helped establish called Prevention Time.
Prevention Time is an AIDS education program which is taught in schools by young African peer educators. I knew that AIDS was still a major problem in Africa, but I had no idea how much misinformation still exists... and the stories Colin told about the cultural mindset around this issue were heart-breaking. AIDS has ravaged the country and culture; parents with AIDS are dying, which leaves young children responsible for taking care of their orphaned siblings.
Teachers in schools are dying off because they've contracted the disease, which cripples the education system. These devastating circumstances then lead the surviving young people to a mindset of futility. They have little to live for, so then they take unnecessary risks, and keep the disease spreading. It's a horribly vicious cycle.
Prevention Time, however, is tackling this issue on a number of different levels and it sounds like they're experiencing huge success. Not only does their “Reach4Life” program provide practical, necessary information, but the fact that the teachers of this information are the peers of the students they're teaching means the culture is transforming from the inside out. The peer educators, meanwhile, are equipped with a sustainable career skill and are often hired on as teachers at struggling schools.
Additionally, it sounds like the Christian concepts incorporated into this curriculum-- like living for a bigger purpose, or embracing redemption and grace-- are providing incentives for young people to live with hope. They want to live well, not just to avoid AIDS, but because they believe their life could have a purpose; that their future could play a part in a much bigger story.
As Colin said all this, my heart started cart-wheeling in my chest. I can’t explain why this hit me as powerfully as it did—but, wow, it HIT me. I raced up to him to talk afterwards (decked out in head-to-toe pink... it was Spirit Week... he thought I was a student...) and asked if there was some way I could get involved with what he was doing. We talked after school and ultimately Colin asked me to come to South Africa this summer and participate as an educational instructor for their peer-educators teaching program. Basically, I would help teach teachers.
SO THAT IS WHAT I AM DOING. On July 7th, I'm flying to South Africa for three weeks to work with Wheaton professors to provide teacher training to peer educators. We'll be doing a combination of observations, individualized feedback, and training, in both the rural area of Kwazulu Natal and the urban Soweto ghetto in Johannesburg. I feel like I've found a way to offer tangible help to an area of need, and it’s by using my passion for teaching!
Please pray for me if you believe in prayer; please pray that I have the humility to enter this trip as a learner; the confidence to overcome my fears and insecurities so that I can step confidently into the role I feel I've been called to play; and please pray for safety. Please also pray ahead of time for the conversations I'll be having and the relationships I'll be forming. If you are not someone who prays, I would ask for your well wishes and emotional support.
Thank you-- can't wait to tell you how it goes!!
This is a little story:
Back in 2006, I spent my summer in Malawi with a team of college students, working with Children of the Nations. For two months, I lived at an orphanage in a village called Chiwengo, tutoring the kids, hosting visiting teams, doing rural outreach, and working with my team to show these children love.
It was an unbelievable learning experience for me, but at the end of the summer, I felt acutely that I had received more than I had been able to give. I thought with envy of my friends with medical backgrounds who were able to offer tangible help to people in developing countries, and knew that what I was able to offer the Malawians was extremely limited. I made up my mind then that if I ever came back to Africa, I would want to come with an idea of how I could offer something more tangibly helpful.I haven't felt the pull to return to Africa since I got back from Malawi that summer. The idea of how I could contribute never arrived, and other than the sweet memories of the kids I worked with, Africa was off my radar. In the meantime, I pursued teaching as a career, and was lucky enough to find a job at Seattle Christian Schools. I LOVE being a teacher, and for the last several years, my passion for teaching has consumed my focus.
Then, Colin Bishop came to Seattle Christian and spoke at chapel.
Colin is a South-African. He’s a soft-spoken older man with a powerful build, and I appreciated him immediately because of how respectfully he addressed our teenage students. He told them stories from his life growing up in Africa, and then transitioned into discussing the organization he helped establish called Prevention Time.
Prevention Time is an AIDS education program which is taught in schools by young African peer educators. I knew that AIDS was still a major problem in Africa, but I had no idea how much misinformation still exists... and the stories Colin told about the cultural mindset around this issue were heart-breaking. AIDS has ravaged the country and culture; parents with AIDS are dying, which leaves young children responsible for taking care of their orphaned siblings.
Teachers in schools are dying off because they've contracted the disease, which cripples the education system. These devastating circumstances then lead the surviving young people to a mindset of futility. They have little to live for, so then they take unnecessary risks, and keep the disease spreading. It's a horribly vicious cycle.Prevention Time, however, is tackling this issue on a number of different levels and it sounds like they're experiencing huge success. Not only does their “Reach4Life” program provide practical, necessary information, but the fact that the teachers of this information are the peers of the students they're teaching means the culture is transforming from the inside out. The peer educators, meanwhile, are equipped with a sustainable career skill and are often hired on as teachers at struggling schools.
Additionally, it sounds like the Christian concepts incorporated into this curriculum-- like living for a bigger purpose, or embracing redemption and grace-- are providing incentives for young people to live with hope. They want to live well, not just to avoid AIDS, but because they believe their life could have a purpose; that their future could play a part in a much bigger story. As Colin said all this, my heart started cart-wheeling in my chest. I can’t explain why this hit me as powerfully as it did—but, wow, it HIT me. I raced up to him to talk afterwards (decked out in head-to-toe pink... it was Spirit Week... he thought I was a student...) and asked if there was some way I could get involved with what he was doing. We talked after school and ultimately Colin asked me to come to South Africa this summer and participate as an educational instructor for their peer-educators teaching program. Basically, I would help teach teachers.
SO THAT IS WHAT I AM DOING. On July 7th, I'm flying to South Africa for three weeks to work with Wheaton professors to provide teacher training to peer educators. We'll be doing a combination of observations, individualized feedback, and training, in both the rural area of Kwazulu Natal and the urban Soweto ghetto in Johannesburg. I feel like I've found a way to offer tangible help to an area of need, and it’s by using my passion for teaching!
Please pray for me if you believe in prayer; please pray that I have the humility to enter this trip as a learner; the confidence to overcome my fears and insecurities so that I can step confidently into the role I feel I've been called to play; and please pray for safety. Please also pray ahead of time for the conversations I'll be having and the relationships I'll be forming. If you are not someone who prays, I would ask for your well wishes and emotional support.
Thank you-- can't wait to tell you how it goes!!
Jun 21, 2011
The Tower Dweller's Lie: it all depends on us
Previous blogs in this series:
1-- Pits, Towers, Fields and Dancing
2-- ... Thoughts on Sheep
3-- Getting out of the Towers
4-- The Shadowlands
5-- The Land of Grace: Casting Shadows
6-- When the Tower Crumbles: Getting to the Land of Grace
7-- A Disclaimer
8-- Holy Scripture, Batman
9--Shadows in the Land of Grace: the Comparison Game
10-- The ONLY One-- Other trips into the Land of Grace
11-- Real Life: one person's story of getting to the Land of Grace
Hey blogging world-- I've been gone for a bit. I finished up with school... my second year of teaching is DONE! I'm getting ready to head off to South Africa in a couple weeks, at which point this series will subside for a time and South Africa will emerge as the primary focus. I think I've also taken some time away from this series because the ideas haven't come as rapidly. I honestly believe all these "ideas" are coming from one main Source-- i.e. God-- and, whether it's because I haven't been as intentional about writing and processing in my journal, or whether it's because this analogy articulates itself as I live life-- the next idea has taken a while to arrive.
But it's here now, so I'll try to break it down.
Let's go back to the Towers-- let's go back to those people who are trying so hard to live life correctly, and to keep themselves safe, and are fearful of making shadows or letting people down, and are missing the best part of Grace: freedom.
I've realized that one of the most seductive lies which keeps people in the Towers is the idea that the Tower people have more power than they actually do. How do they think they have power? Here are some examples of Tower thinking:
"If I just read my Bible enough and pray with enough faith, everything in my life will go well."
"My friend is hurting and is making terrible decisions; I need to help them somehow."
"My girlfriend means SO MUCH to me, and I want to be her everything. I want to save her-- I want to fulfill her completely."
"My boyfriend is so far from God; I need to convince him that God is his one and only Savior."
"Things are not going how I want them to go right now. I need to do something different; something must be wrong with me."
"I'm afraid that [this bad thing] might happen. So I'll make sure I do [this, and this, and this] to protect myself from that EVER happening."
And so on.
These lies are deceptive because there's a lot of truth in them-- if our lives suck, it's probably the most practical first step to do some serious self-evaluation and to consider where we might make some healthy changes. Or if someone in our life is clearly hurting-- I don't think we should just sit idly by and let them suffer. We probably should DO something. And obviously, if we make healthy life choices, we'll set ourselves up to avoid pain. However, these "formulas" for success don't always work and in the moments when they fail, the Tower crumbles. The thing we'd feared most happens after all, and all our deposits into the safety account come up bankrupt. True safety cannot be found in the Towers; no matter how hard WE try, life and living will be dangerous, confusing, and risky.
This is my point: where Tower Thinking falls short is that it fails to acknowledge that we as people are SMALL.
Insulted?
Don't be. This should come as a giant relief.
I remember around this time last year, driving home from counseling, considering all the people in my life who were stressing me out and who I wanted to change and suddenly it hit me like an ocean storm:
"I am SMALL. I am not that powerful! I can't change anyone-- all I can do is pray, and give people over to the Lord, and love them as best I can in the meantime."
Haha-- ironically, "Lay Em Down" by Needtobreathe is playing on Pandora right now.
That is what this TRUTH allows us to do: we can lay down our burdens. We can LET THEM GO.
Just this winter, again, I was stressing to my friend Shannon about a situation in my life that hadn't played out the way I wanted it to. I had a crush on a guy but I hadn't followed up with him-- mostly because I felt like God wanted me to chill out and pursue things with HIM for a while. But then I found out this guy had gotten back together with his girlfriend and I said to Shannon, "Shannon-- what if I missed my opportunity? This guy had totally showed interest in me! What if I just ruined what could have been a great thing?"
"Greta, you're not that big," she told me. "You are not powerful enough to mess up God's plan. If he's meant to come back into your life, he'll come back into your life."
What a RELIEF those words were to hear. It doesn't ALL depend on me. I am not that powerful! And thus, I can relinquish control; and thus, I can stop feeling so afraid that I'll mess up somehow; and thus, I can relax into freedom and trust in God.
Speaking of trusting God: I'll tell you the other way that Tower Thinking falls short. It fails to take into account the power of God.
We FEAR because we don't actually think He is as powerful as He says He is. And if He isn't as powerful as He claims to be, well then IT ALL DEPENDS ON US. I remember confronting this lie when I was looking for a teaching job. The economy had taken a nose dive, there were NO teaching jobs, and I was one of countless, jobless grad-student peons looking for employment. There was NO way I was going to find a job.
Tower Thinking in those moments is terrified. Because if it all depends on us, we're sunk. There is NO way we will be okay.
But-- as Annie once told me, "God will tax the farthest star to provide for His children." He is SO powerful, guys. And the more my own plans go awry, and the more His plans in my life play out, the more I recognize that He is powerful and that He is sovereign.
And I found a teaching job. Improbably. Impossibly. Because of Him, because He is that powerful.
And my whole first year of teaching, when I went through a season where I couldn't make it through a morning without crying, and I had to beg God to get me through the day because there was no WAY I could do this on my own...? I never broke down in front of the students. God got me through, and the year ended on an unbelievably awesome note. Not because I was powerful, but because He was powerful.
And furthermore-- the guy I had a crush on? He came back into my life with no prodding or cajoling or string-pulling from me. And I don't know where that's going, but God is sure doing awesome things in the meantime, and it wasn't ME that pulled this guy back into my life-- it was something far more powerful.
One last warning about this Tower Lie: if we think that it all depends on us, and that God is perhaps not as powerful as He claims-- well then, we also assume that everything depends on our other Tower Dwellers.
In other words, we think that THEY are more powerful than they actually are. Our fellow humans, in this light, are responsible for far more than they could ever actually be entrusted with.
They should fulfill.
They should not mess up.
They should perform with absolute consistency.
They should behave themselves.
They should give us what we need.
And if they don't, then they are failures, and they should never be trusted. Our psyches can become incredibly damaged by viewing others in this light-- we can become incredibly cynical and bitter about human nature if we expect others to be more than mere sinners: made in the image of God but with a knack for messing up. It does NOT all depend on other people-- it does all depend on God.
Once again though, I feel the need to assert that there are many areas of gray in all these considerations. Just as (I believe) the concepts of predestination and free-will somehow seem to co-exist, the concepts of human responsibility and Divine sovereignty must work in tandem. Sometimes God calls us to act, and then we must act. Sometimes God calls us to Be Still, and then we should simply Be Still. Sometimes God calls us to intervene, and then we must speak. Sometimes God calls us to Cease in Striving, and then we should simply rest. Sometimes God calls us to speak tough truth into someone's life; sometimes He calls us simply to let go and forgive.
Remember? There are no sure-fire formulas that work 100% of the time. That's why we must DANCE with our God; sometimes we need to move forward; sometimes we need to move back. Dancing requires close attention to our partner; it requires intimacy and listening. We must listen, and let Him lead. We must let HIM lead.
If we accept Grace for being small...
If we extend Grace to others for being small...
If we trust that God is, in fact, as powerful as He says He is...
Then, dears-- we find freedom.
1-- Pits, Towers, Fields and Dancing
2-- ... Thoughts on Sheep
3-- Getting out of the Towers
4-- The Shadowlands
5-- The Land of Grace: Casting Shadows
6-- When the Tower Crumbles: Getting to the Land of Grace
7-- A Disclaimer
8-- Holy Scripture, Batman
9--Shadows in the Land of Grace: the Comparison Game
10-- The ONLY One-- Other trips into the Land of Grace
11-- Real Life: one person's story of getting to the Land of Grace
Hey blogging world-- I've been gone for a bit. I finished up with school... my second year of teaching is DONE! I'm getting ready to head off to South Africa in a couple weeks, at which point this series will subside for a time and South Africa will emerge as the primary focus. I think I've also taken some time away from this series because the ideas haven't come as rapidly. I honestly believe all these "ideas" are coming from one main Source-- i.e. God-- and, whether it's because I haven't been as intentional about writing and processing in my journal, or whether it's because this analogy articulates itself as I live life-- the next idea has taken a while to arrive.
But it's here now, so I'll try to break it down.
Let's go back to the Towers-- let's go back to those people who are trying so hard to live life correctly, and to keep themselves safe, and are fearful of making shadows or letting people down, and are missing the best part of Grace: freedom.
I've realized that one of the most seductive lies which keeps people in the Towers is the idea that the Tower people have more power than they actually do. How do they think they have power? Here are some examples of Tower thinking:
"If I just read my Bible enough and pray with enough faith, everything in my life will go well."
"My friend is hurting and is making terrible decisions; I need to help them somehow."
"My girlfriend means SO MUCH to me, and I want to be her everything. I want to save her-- I want to fulfill her completely."
"My boyfriend is so far from God; I need to convince him that God is his one and only Savior."
"Things are not going how I want them to go right now. I need to do something different; something must be wrong with me."
"I'm afraid that [this bad thing] might happen. So I'll make sure I do [this, and this, and this] to protect myself from that EVER happening."
And so on.
These lies are deceptive because there's a lot of truth in them-- if our lives suck, it's probably the most practical first step to do some serious self-evaluation and to consider where we might make some healthy changes. Or if someone in our life is clearly hurting-- I don't think we should just sit idly by and let them suffer. We probably should DO something. And obviously, if we make healthy life choices, we'll set ourselves up to avoid pain. However, these "formulas" for success don't always work and in the moments when they fail, the Tower crumbles. The thing we'd feared most happens after all, and all our deposits into the safety account come up bankrupt. True safety cannot be found in the Towers; no matter how hard WE try, life and living will be dangerous, confusing, and risky.
This is my point: where Tower Thinking falls short is that it fails to acknowledge that we as people are SMALL.
Insulted?
Don't be. This should come as a giant relief.
I remember around this time last year, driving home from counseling, considering all the people in my life who were stressing me out and who I wanted to change and suddenly it hit me like an ocean storm:
"I am SMALL. I am not that powerful! I can't change anyone-- all I can do is pray, and give people over to the Lord, and love them as best I can in the meantime."
Haha-- ironically, "Lay Em Down" by Needtobreathe is playing on Pandora right now.
That is what this TRUTH allows us to do: we can lay down our burdens. We can LET THEM GO.
Just this winter, again, I was stressing to my friend Shannon about a situation in my life that hadn't played out the way I wanted it to. I had a crush on a guy but I hadn't followed up with him-- mostly because I felt like God wanted me to chill out and pursue things with HIM for a while. But then I found out this guy had gotten back together with his girlfriend and I said to Shannon, "Shannon-- what if I missed my opportunity? This guy had totally showed interest in me! What if I just ruined what could have been a great thing?"
"Greta, you're not that big," she told me. "You are not powerful enough to mess up God's plan. If he's meant to come back into your life, he'll come back into your life."
What a RELIEF those words were to hear. It doesn't ALL depend on me. I am not that powerful! And thus, I can relinquish control; and thus, I can stop feeling so afraid that I'll mess up somehow; and thus, I can relax into freedom and trust in God.
Speaking of trusting God: I'll tell you the other way that Tower Thinking falls short. It fails to take into account the power of God.
We FEAR because we don't actually think He is as powerful as He says He is. And if He isn't as powerful as He claims to be, well then IT ALL DEPENDS ON US. I remember confronting this lie when I was looking for a teaching job. The economy had taken a nose dive, there were NO teaching jobs, and I was one of countless, jobless grad-student peons looking for employment. There was NO way I was going to find a job.
Tower Thinking in those moments is terrified. Because if it all depends on us, we're sunk. There is NO way we will be okay.
But-- as Annie once told me, "God will tax the farthest star to provide for His children." He is SO powerful, guys. And the more my own plans go awry, and the more His plans in my life play out, the more I recognize that He is powerful and that He is sovereign.
And I found a teaching job. Improbably. Impossibly. Because of Him, because He is that powerful.
And my whole first year of teaching, when I went through a season where I couldn't make it through a morning without crying, and I had to beg God to get me through the day because there was no WAY I could do this on my own...? I never broke down in front of the students. God got me through, and the year ended on an unbelievably awesome note. Not because I was powerful, but because He was powerful.
And furthermore-- the guy I had a crush on? He came back into my life with no prodding or cajoling or string-pulling from me. And I don't know where that's going, but God is sure doing awesome things in the meantime, and it wasn't ME that pulled this guy back into my life-- it was something far more powerful.
One last warning about this Tower Lie: if we think that it all depends on us, and that God is perhaps not as powerful as He claims-- well then, we also assume that everything depends on our other Tower Dwellers.
In other words, we think that THEY are more powerful than they actually are. Our fellow humans, in this light, are responsible for far more than they could ever actually be entrusted with.
They should fulfill.
They should not mess up.
They should perform with absolute consistency.
They should behave themselves.
They should give us what we need.
And if they don't, then they are failures, and they should never be trusted. Our psyches can become incredibly damaged by viewing others in this light-- we can become incredibly cynical and bitter about human nature if we expect others to be more than mere sinners: made in the image of God but with a knack for messing up. It does NOT all depend on other people-- it does all depend on God.
Once again though, I feel the need to assert that there are many areas of gray in all these considerations. Just as (I believe) the concepts of predestination and free-will somehow seem to co-exist, the concepts of human responsibility and Divine sovereignty must work in tandem. Sometimes God calls us to act, and then we must act. Sometimes God calls us to Be Still, and then we should simply Be Still. Sometimes God calls us to intervene, and then we must speak. Sometimes God calls us to Cease in Striving, and then we should simply rest. Sometimes God calls us to speak tough truth into someone's life; sometimes He calls us simply to let go and forgive.
Remember? There are no sure-fire formulas that work 100% of the time. That's why we must DANCE with our God; sometimes we need to move forward; sometimes we need to move back. Dancing requires close attention to our partner; it requires intimacy and listening. We must listen, and let Him lead. We must let HIM lead.
If we accept Grace for being small...
If we extend Grace to others for being small...
If we trust that God is, in fact, as powerful as He says He is...
Then, dears-- we find freedom.
May 27, 2011
Real Life: one person's story of getting to the Land of Grace
Previous blogs in this series:
1-- Pits, Towers, Fields and Dancing
2-- ... Thoughts on Sheep
3-- Getting out of the Towers
4-- The Shadowlands
5-- The Land of Grace: Casting Shadows
6-- When the Tower Crumbles: Getting to the Land of Grace
7-- A Disclaimer
8-- Holy Scripture, Batman
9--Shadows in the Land of Grace: the Comparison Game
10-- The ONLY One-- Other trips into the Land of Grace
It's been creeping along gradually for years now. I read through old journals, and I see epiphanies and prayers inching me steadily closer to this goal:
Grace.
Accepting it for myself; extending it to others. I could share a million small steps that scooched me here, but then I'd have to type the contents of several journals onto this blog.
So I'll focus on the last couple steps that were especially significant.
Earlier this year, I realized that God was calling me into a deeper understanding of Him, and I KNEW-- like, head knowledge, knew-- that that understanding had a lot to do with accepting Grace. But, because I only know how to trytrytry at things, and workworkwork at improving myself, I didn't know HOW to just accept Grace.
It's like, I'd spent my whole life building my Tower higher through creating bricks and writing new formulas. I've spent my life working so hard to be the daughter I thought God wanted. I tried to do everything right, I tried to be what I was supposed to be for everyone. I tried to seek God through what I understood as His conditions, His rules, His formulas. Even the blog I just linked to entails a formula: "I understand now that I am meant for deeper waters, and that I will only be capable of successfully living on land once I have lost sight of it altogether in the vast depth of the ocean."
So-- I knew that God wanted me to accept Grace. Like-- He'd shown me that as the destination/goal. But I didn't know how to GET myself there. I was so used to WORKING towards destinations, but this was a destination I couldn't WORK to get to. I knew that what I really needed to do was just chill out and let go, but I couldn't get to a place of chilling out by WORKING at it.
I remember this dichotomy colliding on the day that I went to a wedding down in Eugene, OR. I brought my friend Shannon with me, and I remember wrestling with this on the long drive down. One of the reasons I appreciate being friends with Shannon is because she calls me out when I deserve it. On the drive down, we were talking about foremost "desires,"-- Shannon told me this theory about foremost desires and foremost fears-- and she was guessing at what my "foremost desire" might be.
"I think yours is maybe COMFORT," she said.
I bristled at that-- I don't know why. "No it's NOT," I said. "I push myself out of my comfort zone ALL the time!" I said. Inside, I thought, "That's wrong. Comfort is wrong. Comfort is not what I should be. God wants me to be a risk-taker. I AM a risk-taker. I'm doing it RIGHT!"
Then I thought, "It shouldn't matter what I am. I'm supposed to accept Grace. Why is this bothering me so much? I need to not be bothered. I'm doing it wrong."
Before the wedding, Shannon and I stopped for a snack and I remember sitting in the restaurant and feeling overwhelmed with the tension of what I SHOULD or SHOULDN'T feel, and the conflicting knowledge that what I really should feel is freedom from SHOULDS. I told her, "I feel like I could burst into tears right now. I don't know what's wrong."
Then, after the wedding, Shannon and I got into a fight. She got mad at me when I interrupted her and suddenly the tension exploded. I remember us standing upstairs in the hallway of the reception hall, trying to talk through our mutual frustrations, and the whole time I felt like there was something so much bigger trying to erupt out of me. Finally I confessed through tears something about how I felt so WRONG-- I felt so heavy, I was trying so hard to be what God wanted but I kept messing up, and this moment was just one more moment where I was getting it wrong, but I was trying not to CARE about getting it wrong, but I didn't know how not to care, and I just felt like I was failing. Shannon hugged me and prayed for me and we both wept together and promised to be friends for a long, long time.
Then I got a $304 speeding ticket on the drive home.
On Monday, I went to counseling. I have no recollection what Shelly and I talked about, but she must have emphasized the point that I was okay, that I was allowed to feel the way I felt, that I could let my heart be restful, because that's what Shelly always emphasizes to me.
On my drive home, I ran a yellow light.
That's when I crossed the threshold, I think.
Because in that moment, my default-criticism-voice leapt in: "Greta, what are you thinking?? You just got a huge speeding ticket, what are you thinking running a yellow light?"
But THEN, Default-Criticism Voice was shoved out of the way and Grace-Cheerleader wriggled her way in.
"Ta daaah!" she crowed cheerfully. "What a whirl that was, huh?? Way to go through that yellow light! What initiative! What DRIVE!" Then a tinkling laugh. "Ha!-- Look at that-- we just made a pun, we are hilaaaarious, you did such a good job just then!"
It was sort of like God let me be insane for a couple hours, so that I could make the leap into grace.
Because little Grace-Cheerleader Voice stuck with me all evening. I got home and brooded, "I haven't had any vegetables today. I should eat a salad for dinner. But what I REALLY want is my expensive cheese from Whole Foods."
Grace-Cheerleader did a cartwheel. "Eat the cheeeese!" she sung. "It's such good cheese! You love that cheese! And you've worked hard today! ENJOY the cheese!"
I thought to myself, "I should grade during dinner. I have so much work to do. But what I really want to do is watch Portlandia."
Grace-Cheerleader wriggled her rump and sprung up into a klutzy split leap, laughing delightedly at herself. "Portlandia! Such a good show! So funny! Watch it! It's okay, it's a great show, and you will enjoy it, and you are WONDERFUL!"
In my silent apartment, I let this odd division of my brain spring and bound around my living room, doing twirls, leaps, falling over in elated dizziness, and crowing affirmations at me the whole time.
I was loved, no matter what I did. No matter what choice I made, I was loved and delighted in.
She gave me grace. GOD-- showed me how to accept grace.
I had my cheerleader for just an evening, which was probably a good thing. Too much of that could lead to real irresponsibility I think... But it was magical to discover the world through that lens of inescapable forgiveness and love.
The last major moment for me came after my car started smoking one night after core group. At this point, I'd written my first entry about the Towers and Fields, so I had that analogy in my head... I was getting to a place where I could understand how to accept grace for myself. However, THIS was when I realized how freeing it is to extend grace to other people. Because, as I was sitting in the bar, waiting for the AAA towtruck and beating myself over the head with-- "FAILURE"-- I was sending out S.O.S. texts. I sent one to a very important person. I've kept this person in a tower longer than almost anyone else I think, because I've held on to ideas of what this person SHOULD and SHOULD NOT do for longer than just about anyone. For now, let's call this person "Dog" because that's essentially what I wanted this person to act like: a dog. Ever faithful, ever available, never failing.
I sent Dog the text: "My car just started smoking so now I'm waiting for AAA to come. Please pray that the repair isn't too expensive!!"
Dog responded back 10 minutes later with, "Uh oh."
Not, "Are you okay?" Not, "What happened?" Not, "I'll be praying!"
Just, "Uh oh."
And the next morning, when recalling the evening before, that response near infuriated me.
This is what I wrote in my journal that morning:
"I know that, with Dog, I've chosen the Towers over the Fields for much longer than maybe anyone else. This morning, once again, I felt angry that Dog wasn't a BETTER Dog. My mind was filled with the SHOULDs of what Dog should have done.
"Then, I recognized that as pulling me out of the Land of Grace. 'Greta,' I told myself, 'Don't do that. Thinking about what Dog SHOULD have done will only put you in the Towers again. Try to just focus on God as your heavenly Father. Try not to care.'
"But then I recognized that I'd put myself right back into a SHOULD-NOT tower with that prayer...!
"So... I breathed deep and told myself: 'Greta. It is okay that you are disappointed with Dog. It is okay that you are disappointed with lots of people because that is one more indication of the brokenness of this world. People will BE disappointing-- they will NOT show up. And that's far from what we're meant to be. God envisioned a world where people loved like Him—unconditionally, consistently, with the utmost faithfulness. The fact that people on earth don’t love like that is a disappointment, and it’s appropriate to grieve that. This is a jagged edge from a spot of brokenness—and it is okay to feel pain. This is not what it was MEANT to be.'
"Then I thought of Dog being in his own field of grace and tried to remember that this was a place of love and compassion, and that Jesus forgave us all, even as we’re at the bottom of pits, even as we’re DIGGING pits, even BEFORE we’ve begun digging pits.
"And remembering how kind Jesus has been to me in the Land of Grace made it easier to forgive Dog and feel compassion.
"And then I heard in my head, 'Part of living is discovering emptiness and recognizing where broken pieces should have been made whole.' Discovering those tragic vacancies, I think… is part of recognizing God as the Healer. It’s part of realizing what the Kingdom of Heaven was MEANT to be, and an invitation to take the next step in the dance with Him, towards bringing that Kingdom closer.
"He fills the empty places."
I found myself in this amazing new world. For one of the first times in my life-- maybe THE first time-- I didn't have a "good" or "bad" sticker, slapped on my emotion. I allowed myself to BE in the place where I was at, and let God speak truth to me through that pain. And in allowing myself to enter back into the Land of Grace, I suddenly realized that I'd allowed Dog to join me there too.
This is something I've realized: if you are keeping someone in a Tower, you will typically find yourself in a Tower as well. If you are truly in the Land of Grace, you can't help allowing other people to exist there alongside you.
Because remember? We all have shadows, and we are all loved.
And want to hear something amazing? As I was finishing the above journal entry that morning, I got a text from Dog: checking in. "Hey-- how did it all work out last night? Everything okay?"
And because of the place that I had journaled myself to, my response WASN'T what it would have been before that journal entry-- it WASN'T a snarky, grumpy, bitter, "Well finally."
Instead, I felt delightful surprise-- a confirmation, not only that God was paying attention, but also that this earthly person loved me. And I was able to accept the text from a place of gratitude and love, rather than condemnation.
See why this analogy has rocked my world so profoundly???
I've mentioned in previous blogs that I'm still on a major learning curve; I still periodically find myself in and out of Towers, and still have a lot to learn about living in the Land of Grace. But transitioning here has enabled me to feel more free than I've felt in years. I have been clutching and fearing and measuring since 14-- maybe even before that. But now-- I am breathing deep. I am okay with not knowing. I am experiencing healing in relationships that have been ragged for years. I feel light, and I feel sure that Jesus loves me, no matter what. I feel spacious, and open, and free. These are revolutionary states for me.
And I can't express how AMAZING it is to feel this safe, and this loved, and this free, in this lit-up Land of Grace.
1-- Pits, Towers, Fields and Dancing
2-- ... Thoughts on Sheep
3-- Getting out of the Towers
4-- The Shadowlands
5-- The Land of Grace: Casting Shadows
6-- When the Tower Crumbles: Getting to the Land of Grace
7-- A Disclaimer
8-- Holy Scripture, Batman
9--Shadows in the Land of Grace: the Comparison Game
10-- The ONLY One-- Other trips into the Land of Grace
It's been creeping along gradually for years now. I read through old journals, and I see epiphanies and prayers inching me steadily closer to this goal:
Grace.
Accepting it for myself; extending it to others. I could share a million small steps that scooched me here, but then I'd have to type the contents of several journals onto this blog.
So I'll focus on the last couple steps that were especially significant.
Earlier this year, I realized that God was calling me into a deeper understanding of Him, and I KNEW-- like, head knowledge, knew-- that that understanding had a lot to do with accepting Grace. But, because I only know how to trytrytry at things, and workworkwork at improving myself, I didn't know HOW to just accept Grace.
It's like, I'd spent my whole life building my Tower higher through creating bricks and writing new formulas. I've spent my life working so hard to be the daughter I thought God wanted. I tried to do everything right, I tried to be what I was supposed to be for everyone. I tried to seek God through what I understood as His conditions, His rules, His formulas. Even the blog I just linked to entails a formula: "I understand now that I am meant for deeper waters, and that I will only be capable of successfully living on land once I have lost sight of it altogether in the vast depth of the ocean."
So-- I knew that God wanted me to accept Grace. Like-- He'd shown me that as the destination/goal. But I didn't know how to GET myself there. I was so used to WORKING towards destinations, but this was a destination I couldn't WORK to get to. I knew that what I really needed to do was just chill out and let go, but I couldn't get to a place of chilling out by WORKING at it.
I remember this dichotomy colliding on the day that I went to a wedding down in Eugene, OR. I brought my friend Shannon with me, and I remember wrestling with this on the long drive down. One of the reasons I appreciate being friends with Shannon is because she calls me out when I deserve it. On the drive down, we were talking about foremost "desires,"-- Shannon told me this theory about foremost desires and foremost fears-- and she was guessing at what my "foremost desire" might be.
"I think yours is maybe COMFORT," she said.
I bristled at that-- I don't know why. "No it's NOT," I said. "I push myself out of my comfort zone ALL the time!" I said. Inside, I thought, "That's wrong. Comfort is wrong. Comfort is not what I should be. God wants me to be a risk-taker. I AM a risk-taker. I'm doing it RIGHT!"
Then I thought, "It shouldn't matter what I am. I'm supposed to accept Grace. Why is this bothering me so much? I need to not be bothered. I'm doing it wrong."
Before the wedding, Shannon and I stopped for a snack and I remember sitting in the restaurant and feeling overwhelmed with the tension of what I SHOULD or SHOULDN'T feel, and the conflicting knowledge that what I really should feel is freedom from SHOULDS. I told her, "I feel like I could burst into tears right now. I don't know what's wrong."
Then, after the wedding, Shannon and I got into a fight. She got mad at me when I interrupted her and suddenly the tension exploded. I remember us standing upstairs in the hallway of the reception hall, trying to talk through our mutual frustrations, and the whole time I felt like there was something so much bigger trying to erupt out of me. Finally I confessed through tears something about how I felt so WRONG-- I felt so heavy, I was trying so hard to be what God wanted but I kept messing up, and this moment was just one more moment where I was getting it wrong, but I was trying not to CARE about getting it wrong, but I didn't know how not to care, and I just felt like I was failing. Shannon hugged me and prayed for me and we both wept together and promised to be friends for a long, long time.
Then I got a $304 speeding ticket on the drive home.
On Monday, I went to counseling. I have no recollection what Shelly and I talked about, but she must have emphasized the point that I was okay, that I was allowed to feel the way I felt, that I could let my heart be restful, because that's what Shelly always emphasizes to me.
On my drive home, I ran a yellow light.
That's when I crossed the threshold, I think.
Because in that moment, my default-criticism-voice leapt in: "Greta, what are you thinking?? You just got a huge speeding ticket, what are you thinking running a yellow light?"
But THEN, Default-Criticism Voice was shoved out of the way and Grace-Cheerleader wriggled her way in.
"Ta daaah!" she crowed cheerfully. "What a whirl that was, huh?? Way to go through that yellow light! What initiative! What DRIVE!" Then a tinkling laugh. "Ha!-- Look at that-- we just made a pun, we are hilaaaarious, you did such a good job just then!"
It was sort of like God let me be insane for a couple hours, so that I could make the leap into grace.
Because little Grace-Cheerleader Voice stuck with me all evening. I got home and brooded, "I haven't had any vegetables today. I should eat a salad for dinner. But what I REALLY want is my expensive cheese from Whole Foods."
Grace-Cheerleader did a cartwheel. "Eat the cheeeese!" she sung. "It's such good cheese! You love that cheese! And you've worked hard today! ENJOY the cheese!"
I thought to myself, "I should grade during dinner. I have so much work to do. But what I really want to do is watch Portlandia."
Grace-Cheerleader wriggled her rump and sprung up into a klutzy split leap, laughing delightedly at herself. "Portlandia! Such a good show! So funny! Watch it! It's okay, it's a great show, and you will enjoy it, and you are WONDERFUL!"
In my silent apartment, I let this odd division of my brain spring and bound around my living room, doing twirls, leaps, falling over in elated dizziness, and crowing affirmations at me the whole time.
I was loved, no matter what I did. No matter what choice I made, I was loved and delighted in.
She gave me grace. GOD-- showed me how to accept grace.
I had my cheerleader for just an evening, which was probably a good thing. Too much of that could lead to real irresponsibility I think... But it was magical to discover the world through that lens of inescapable forgiveness and love.
The last major moment for me came after my car started smoking one night after core group. At this point, I'd written my first entry about the Towers and Fields, so I had that analogy in my head... I was getting to a place where I could understand how to accept grace for myself. However, THIS was when I realized how freeing it is to extend grace to other people. Because, as I was sitting in the bar, waiting for the AAA towtruck and beating myself over the head with-- "FAILURE"-- I was sending out S.O.S. texts. I sent one to a very important person. I've kept this person in a tower longer than almost anyone else I think, because I've held on to ideas of what this person SHOULD and SHOULD NOT do for longer than just about anyone. For now, let's call this person "Dog" because that's essentially what I wanted this person to act like: a dog. Ever faithful, ever available, never failing.
I sent Dog the text: "My car just started smoking so now I'm waiting for AAA to come. Please pray that the repair isn't too expensive!!"
Dog responded back 10 minutes later with, "Uh oh."
Not, "Are you okay?" Not, "What happened?" Not, "I'll be praying!"
Just, "Uh oh."
And the next morning, when recalling the evening before, that response near infuriated me.
This is what I wrote in my journal that morning:
"I know that, with Dog, I've chosen the Towers over the Fields for much longer than maybe anyone else. This morning, once again, I felt angry that Dog wasn't a BETTER Dog. My mind was filled with the SHOULDs of what Dog should have done.
"Then, I recognized that as pulling me out of the Land of Grace. 'Greta,' I told myself, 'Don't do that. Thinking about what Dog SHOULD have done will only put you in the Towers again. Try to just focus on God as your heavenly Father. Try not to care.'
"But then I recognized that I'd put myself right back into a SHOULD-NOT tower with that prayer...!
"So... I breathed deep and told myself: 'Greta. It is okay that you are disappointed with Dog. It is okay that you are disappointed with lots of people because that is one more indication of the brokenness of this world. People will BE disappointing-- they will NOT show up. And that's far from what we're meant to be. God envisioned a world where people loved like Him—unconditionally, consistently, with the utmost faithfulness. The fact that people on earth don’t love like that is a disappointment, and it’s appropriate to grieve that. This is a jagged edge from a spot of brokenness—and it is okay to feel pain. This is not what it was MEANT to be.'
"Then I thought of Dog being in his own field of grace and tried to remember that this was a place of love and compassion, and that Jesus forgave us all, even as we’re at the bottom of pits, even as we’re DIGGING pits, even BEFORE we’ve begun digging pits.
"And remembering how kind Jesus has been to me in the Land of Grace made it easier to forgive Dog and feel compassion.
"And then I heard in my head, 'Part of living is discovering emptiness and recognizing where broken pieces should have been made whole.' Discovering those tragic vacancies, I think… is part of recognizing God as the Healer. It’s part of realizing what the Kingdom of Heaven was MEANT to be, and an invitation to take the next step in the dance with Him, towards bringing that Kingdom closer.
"He fills the empty places."
I found myself in this amazing new world. For one of the first times in my life-- maybe THE first time-- I didn't have a "good" or "bad" sticker, slapped on my emotion. I allowed myself to BE in the place where I was at, and let God speak truth to me through that pain. And in allowing myself to enter back into the Land of Grace, I suddenly realized that I'd allowed Dog to join me there too.
This is something I've realized: if you are keeping someone in a Tower, you will typically find yourself in a Tower as well. If you are truly in the Land of Grace, you can't help allowing other people to exist there alongside you.
Because remember? We all have shadows, and we are all loved.
And want to hear something amazing? As I was finishing the above journal entry that morning, I got a text from Dog: checking in. "Hey-- how did it all work out last night? Everything okay?"
And because of the place that I had journaled myself to, my response WASN'T what it would have been before that journal entry-- it WASN'T a snarky, grumpy, bitter, "Well finally."
Instead, I felt delightful surprise-- a confirmation, not only that God was paying attention, but also that this earthly person loved me. And I was able to accept the text from a place of gratitude and love, rather than condemnation.
See why this analogy has rocked my world so profoundly???
I've mentioned in previous blogs that I'm still on a major learning curve; I still periodically find myself in and out of Towers, and still have a lot to learn about living in the Land of Grace. But transitioning here has enabled me to feel more free than I've felt in years. I have been clutching and fearing and measuring since 14-- maybe even before that. But now-- I am breathing deep. I am okay with not knowing. I am experiencing healing in relationships that have been ragged for years. I feel light, and I feel sure that Jesus loves me, no matter what. I feel spacious, and open, and free. These are revolutionary states for me.
And I can't express how AMAZING it is to feel this safe, and this loved, and this free, in this lit-up Land of Grace.
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