I don't need a hero.

I’m a pretty lucky person and am grateful for many things.  Mostly, I am grateful for the wonderful people in my life.  I have never been the type of person who knows a lot of people or has a lot of friends.  Instead, at different stages of my life, I have had a small group of really close friends.  As I have moved on to different stages of my life I have lost contact with old friends but I can always call up those people and pick up our friendship.  That is one of my greatest blessings.

I am also grateful that I have had a lot of strong women in my life that have taught me many important things.  Today I want to tell you about one particular woman who is pretty awesome.  Her name is Lyssa.  Lyssa is a dog groomer and we call her the dog whisperer.  Lyssa approaches dogs, people and life the same way.  Slowly, with kindness, with love, and with intention.

I have known Lyssa for as long as I can remember.  My first memory of Lyssa is when I was about 3 or 4 years old.  She worked as a receptionist for my dad and she let me sit up front and help her check clients in and out.  Lyssa gave me real tasks to do and did not treat me as a child. Lyssa babysat for us kids and was around a lot during my childhood. Lyssa always talked to my sisters and I as equals. She never underestimated our intelligence or ability to understand. She treated us as adults and we probably behaved better for her than most people. She let us make and learn from our mistakes. Even if that meant hitting our heads while we tried to jump from one bed to the other (that was my sister, Corey). She taught me, from a very young age, that I could be independent.  And independence is good.

Lyssa also taught me that I am not just one thing.  I am mixture of many things.  I am mixture of some really awesome things, some okay things, and even some bad things.  She told me it is okay to be all those things, as long as I recognize and work on the not so good things. I don’t need to identify with one or two traits.  Society wants to tell us who we are; who we are allowed to be.  

Lyssa has showed me that I will continue to develop new traits and weed out old ones my entire life.  I am not just one thing.  I am many things.  Some good and some bad. I don't need to look to others for a role model.  I can be my own hero.

For the past few years I have said the best compliment I could ever receive is for someone to tell me I live my life with intention.  With integrity.  Lyssa has lived her life with intention and integrity. She has lived a life of simplicity focused on the things and people she loves. She has taught me, and her own children, that material items are not important.  In fact, we need to recycle material items.  Lyssa is creative and always making something beautiful out of used or unwanted items.  She taught me to love the earth and love farming.

Lyssa is genuine.  She is a great listener.  When she asks, “How are you?” she actually want to listen.  And she responds thoughtfully.  She does not tell you what you want to hear.  She gives you her opinion but recognizes you might make a different decision.  And she is okay with that.  She taught me to distinguish between my truth and others truth.  My choices and decisions are not right for all people and their choices are not necessarily right for me.  But I should at least listen to what other people say and then make my decision.  Lyssa is slow to anger and quick to love.

Lyssa has taught me about sacrifice. She is an incredibly hard worker who has battled illnesses and personal tribulations.  It is rare that you find Lyssa without a smile on her face. She could be having the worst day but she still shows kindness to others. I have watched her make sacrifices for her family and others. She does this because she loves deeply. Lyssa has taught me it is okay to let people into your life.  Sometimes they will disappoint you.  Sometimes they will surprise you. Sometimes you just have to brush their words or actions off and not let it get under your skin. Sometimes you need to be honest about your own actions and be the one to apologize. Sometimes you need to sacrifice your own wants for someone else.  Sometimes, after a lot of effort and forgiveness, you need to walk away and move forward. 

How did Lyssa teach me all these magical things?  She never lectured.  She never instructed.  She never demanded. Most of these things she never even said explicitly.  She taught me these things through her own actions, by encouraging me to rely on myself for my own self-confidence. In a few days Lyssa is moving to California.  I’m beyond sad.  But I am excited for her new adventure. I’m excited for her children (whom I love as siblings) to have a new experience that will challenge them in new ways. I am jealous that her sister, mother, and father get to have her in close proximity again. I am excited for Lyssa to meet new people and touch their lives. I know that when I have a million questions about crafts, gardens, animals, and life I will just have to pick up the phone instead of holler at her through my office door.  But most of all, I hope Lyssa meets another 3-year-old girl and teaches her how to grow into an independent, intentional, and loving woman who will make sacrifices for others and will be her own hero.

Risk Death

I have seven different half started blog posts on white privilege and racism. I believe you get more with sugar than vinegar and I try hard not to belittle people or guilt them into the feelings I want them to experience. It is not effective. It belittles people and no one wants to feel belittled. I try not to point finger or offend. So, all my attempts on this topic fall short because my posts end up not saying much of anything. If I offend you, I am truly sorry.  Yes, I am speaking to my white audience. Most people who read my blog are white.  I am an upper-class, 27 year-old white girl. I was raised in the center of white privilege.  This post is not about belittling; I want to explain what I see everyday.  If you feel angry or guilty I ask that you investigate what you might be holding on to that is invoking those feelings.

Sunday, August 10, Michael Brown, an unarmed African American man was shot by a police officer. On Monday, August 11, Ezell Ford, an unarmed African American man was shot by a police officer. On Tuesday, August 5, John Crawford,  an unarmed African American man was shot by a police officer. Thursday, July 17, Eric Garner,  an unarmed African American man was placed in an illegal chokehold by a police officer and died of asphyxiation.  These are

only a few examples among hundreds. They are not isolated instances and it is not a police problem. It is a societal problem and the burden falls on us all.

Maybe you are thinking, “I’m not racist!”  I put an exclamation point there deliberately.  I used to be that person. Then I opened my eyes. I have racist tendencies. We all do. People who have spent their lives working on race issues will tell you they have racist tendencies. Racism is everywhere in our society and we have to acknowledge it, no matter how painful and uncomfortable it might be.

I’m going to give a personal example about my family. My sister has been dating the same man for ten years.  In January they had the most beautiful baby in the entire world. Dajuan is black.  Lauren is white.  Laila is perfect. When Lauren first started dating Dajuan and friends would ask about her my mom would always say, “Well, Lauren is dating a very nice black man.”  I am not using this example to belittle my mother.  My mom is awesome and one of the most welcoming people in the world.  If you have ever met her you have felt her love.  But it is an example of my white upper-class world.  I asked my mom, “If Lauren was dating a white dude would you say, ‘Well, Lauren is dating a really nice white dude?’”  Of course not.  First, Mom felt she needed to warn her friends that Dajuan is black, and then she had to preface the fact that he is black with, “he is very nice.”  The implication here is that most black men are not nice.  Dajuan’s niceness is the exception.  My mom had to justify Lauren’s relationship to her white friends. This is not because my mom’s friends are mean or openly racist.  It is what society expects her to say.  To explain when no explanation should be necessary.

This is one example in my life among thousands. I used this one because the one small comment has so many implications.  I have had to catch myself multiple times not to say the same thing. I have to remind myself that racism sneaks into my words everyday and I have to be better. I have to acknowledge the implications of white privilege in my life and that is scary. As I have been reading different articles and blog posts different questions have been posed and my answers made me uncomfortable.

    1. Do you have any neighbors that don’t look like you?  No, I don’t.  

    2. Do you have anyone on speed dial that does not look like you?  No, I don’t.

    3. Have you talked to your kids about how to behave in the presence of police?  I don’t have kids but I don’t remember my parents ever having that conversation with me.  I bet Lauren and Dajuan have talked Dajuan’s 10 year-old son, Marquise, about it.

    4. When I go shopping, am I followed around the store?  Nope.  Only when the salesperson is hoping for a big commision.

    5. Do people assume you are intelligent?  When you use big words does it invoke surprise?  Yes.  No.

    6. Are you worried the police will shoot you or a loved one?  I have never once worried that the police will shoot me but I think about Marquise everyday. Marquise is an incredibly intelligent (he skipped two grades) and respectful young African American male.  Despite his intelligence and respectful nature I worry about how society treats him.  I worry he will be shot by the police.

I also have to acknowledge that the privilege that allows me to answer no is at the expense of people of color.  I also have to acknowledge sometimes I close my eyes to the suffering of others.  It would be a lot easier to lay on the floor and snuggle my dog.  But I am drawn to a quote from Martin Luther King Jr. In this quote MLK is responding to a question about his mistakes as a civil rights leader and he replies: "Well, the most pervasive mistake I have made was in believing that because our cause was just, we could be sure that the white ministers of the South, once their Christian consciences were challenged, would rise to our aid. I felt that white ministers would take our cause to the white power structures. I ended up, of course, chastened and disillusioned."

I’m a white Christian.  I have a lot of problems with the white church and it’s (non) stance on race issues.  Many issues for that matter.  But in this quote I think the white church can be symbolic for white society. Reading this makes me feel ashamed but white society is not ashamed of our non actions or privilege.  We hold on to both with a death grip. We dismiss slavery. We claim credit for ending Jim Crow. We ignore incarnation rates which has rightly been termed the New Jim Crow. We ignore the ghettos and deny segregation.  We do this because we silently benefit.  And then we deny those benefits.

We fill our newsfeed with the ice bucket challenge and Robin Williams. We feel offended by black bodies.  Some of you may be screaming at me.  Many might have stopped reading.  But it’s true.  We can continue to ignore this truth and white media will continue to demonize color. We will continue to assume black and brown equal bad. We can convince ourselves we don’t have room for African American experiences.  We have no room to feel ashamed. But we have to feel a collective shame in order to chose to be something better.  What can we do? I have read a lot of lists that were good and challenging but there was one challenge that struck me the hardest as a Christian.

Being a Christian is not supposed to be easy.  It should be really fucking hard.  I don’t curse often but I felt it necessary to emphasize my point. The challenge I heard was “risk death.” Maybe that sounds extreme but if we are to seriously consider the Gospels that is exactly what Jesus tells us to do.  Over and over again.  Risk death in the face of injustice.  This does not have to be literal death.  It is the death of our reputation.  There are a lot of people who will not like what I am saying.  They might defriend me on Facebook and in real life. It means risking the death of our worldview and privilege. Risk the death of our comforts so we can try to understand what people of color risk everyday by simply existing.

I want to be committed to racial justice but I am guilty of simply reading and writing.  I am guilty of having a few “token black friends.” Reading, writing and thinking are important but it is not the journey.  It is a step and now I have to really step outside of my comfort zone if I want reconciliation. I have learned and grown the most when I have put myself in uncomfortable situations. I want to be better. I want a better world for my niece and nephew. I want a better world for my own potential children. I want a better world for my neighbor. I want a better world for the stranger, who is my neighbor. A just world will not create itself; I have to be apart of the movement. In order to create this I have to be better

Summertime = Love and Sparkles

Remember when you were little and summer felt as long as the school year?  When you woke up in the morning and stayed outside until it was dark and caught fireflies and went to bed with dirty feet?  The most responsibility you had was trying to convince your mom that swimming in the pool or the ocean should count as a bath.  When I think about those summers I remember how everyday was a new adventure with no expectations.  My sisters and I lived everyday full of joy, laughter and love.

This summer has been almost as great.  The only difference is that it has flown by so fast instead of lasting forever.  I have spent everyday simply living in the moment without expectations.  I have laughed harder and caught more fireflies than I have in years.  I have gone to bed with dirty feet and fingernails and decided swimming in the pool counts as a bath.  I don’t really like sand in my bed so I just jump in the pool after going to the beach and call it a day.

The magic ingredient is love.  And sparkles.  You can’t forget the sparkles.  The weird thing?  I have been surrounded with as much love as I have any other summer.  The difference is this summer I have focused on family and friendships instead of plans and objectives. I started my summer with a hectic Memorial Day weekend full of nothing but family, friendships and love.  

Corey, Chloe, Katie, Whitney, Christine

My friend Katie was married that weekend and my sister and I danced the night away with two of our oldest and best friends in the world.  I have been to so many weddings where I spent the night talking about how pretty the flowers were or how beautiful the bride looked.  Katie was a beautiful bride but I don’t remember if she even had flowers.  I was focused on catching up with old friends
and talking about how Katie and Dustin will have to look at each other every day for the rest of their lives.  You know what I will remember most from that wedding?  Feeling genuine joy for Katie and Dustin.  I will remember celebrating a joyful event that was focused on a union instead of an open bar.  Although the open bar was pretty great.  It led to a full dance floor.  I will also remember
sore legs the next morning.

My niece, Laila, and nephew, Marquise

The summer proceeded with visits from family, trips out west, farming, kayaking, beach days and baseball games. My sister, Lauren, had her first baby six months ago and as cliche as it sounds, being an aunt has changed me.  I have called my sister's stepson, Marquise, my nephew for years and he is witty, hilarious, affectionate and overall the best 10-year-old I have ever known.  But it was Marquise's personality that caused me to love him. Watching Lauren go through her pregnancy with Laila was amazing. I loved that baby before she was born and when I hold her I know I love her unconditionally.  Before Laila I was unsure if I knew how to love unconditionally.  I knew what unconditional love looked like, and I tried really hard to model that, but I was unsure what it felt like.  Now I know it feels like spit-up and hair-pulling.  Good luck, World.  Since her birth I have tried to incorporate the feeling of unconditional love into all my relationships.  Some days I accomplish this better than other days.  I'm only practically perfect; I still have a little work to do.

Keatin, Olivia, Elisabeth, Ellie, Whitney, and some dude

I have laughed so much this summer I think I'm starting to get some abs.  I have a group of friends from college with whom I go on a trip every year.  We are the 4Pack.  Our hashtag is #adventuresofthe4pack.  You should follow us every year.  We are highly entertaining and create general mayhem and chaos everywhere we go.  We are pretty and sparkly.  Yes, I know there are five of us.  That is another story for another time.  This year we went California to explore the Redwood Forest, discover wine caves and bring laughter to those we meet.  I'm not actually sure if we bring laughter or minor panic attacks.  I choose to believe we bring laughter. I never laugh harder than when I am with these girls.  What do we laugh about?  Everything and nothing.  We laugh because we are happy and living in the moment.  These girls remind me to not take myself too seriously and to laugh at myself.

What I am trying to convey with this post?  That you should live your life just like me of course!  I'm suggesting that you take a few days and slow down.  Stop and smell the roses.  Catch a firefly barefoot.  Go to bed with dirty feet.  Laugh.  Drink wine (only if you are 21 or over).  Dance in  your underwear.  Kiss a baby or three.  Love unconditionally.  Add a sprinkling of sparkles.



 

Baby Steps

*This post is very disjointed and not very coherent.  That is because I don't really know what I am looking for nor what I want to say.  I'm posting anyway because it is a start and I all have to start somewhere.

I started this blog when I moved to Guatemala as a Young Adult Volunteer in 2009.  I was not very good about blogging while I was there and today I only occasionally update it with new posts.  Mostly my posts are for myself; a way to sort through my tumbled thoughts.  I gave up Facebook for Lent, not because I think Facebook is bad, nor because I spent too much time reading status updates.  My goal was to be more thoughtful during the season of Lent.  I wanted to send handwritten cards to people instead of "Liking" a post or writing a hurried a comment.  I wanted to spend time reading and writing on my blog.

Well clearly I have done an excellent job.  All my other blog posts were incredible, well-written and insightful.  I'm so sorry the evil blogger fairy deleted everything.  Okay, so I have not updated my blog.  I have mailed handwritten notes and delivered baskets of baked goods but I have not really fulfilled my Lenten intention.  On Sunday I made myself sit down and read scripture and be alone with my thoughts.  I realized what I was really looking for was an "encounter" with God.

I don't like the phrase "encounter with God."  Maybe because it reminds me of the weekend encounters where my evangelical friends would try to take me.  They succeeded a few times and they were memorable but maybe not in the ways they were intended.  I also imagine sitting on a rock in the woods or on a mountain cliff praying and doing zen-like things.  Neither of these images really appeal to me but I am looking for some sort of interaction.  For the past few years I have felt stuck in my faith.  I have not really felt it grow in the way it did during college, while in Guatemala, and after returning.  Last year I went to Colombia and that experience challenged and pushed me.  I have some amazing friends that challenge and push me.  But I have not challenged and pushed myself.  Well, not very hard. 

I try really hard to live a good life and be a conscientious person but I can be a lot better.  I allow myself to be lazy too often.  Don't get me wrong.  I love lazy days where the most important thing I have to do is brush my teeth and feed my dog.  I think they are necessary for the soul.  And your knees/joints if you enjoy running.  I don't like to run but I do enjoy jogging (which means I never time myself and runners always pass me).  I need to find ways to be more active in my very small community.  I need to challenge my mind through reading difficult texts and researching current events that are important to my morals.  For the rest of Lent I am choosing to be an active participant and whoever out there is reading my blog will get to read about my new discoveries.  That is unless the evil blogger fairy decides to sabotage me again.

Dogs are awesome. Slobbery toys are gross.

I love my dog.  Actually I am kinda obsessed with her.  I love dog shaming; it makes me laugh.  I also love spoiling her rotten.  Everyday I tell Eva she is the prettiest, smartest, most majestic dog that ever existed.  But mostly I am obsessed with my dog because of her ability to live each day full of happiness and gratitude.

She eats the same thing for breakfast and dinner everyday.  Two scoops.  Yesterday I whined about having to eat leftover soup because I was too lazy to go to the store to buy something else.  I play the same games with Eva everyday.  We either go outside with the Chuckit (don’t say that word if you don’t mean it) or I sit on the couch and throw a toy up in the air and she catches it and brings it back.  She would be perfectly content and grateful to do that all day, everyday.  I become annoyed and bored out of my mind in the first five minutes.

But Eva lives in the present.  All she wants to do is spend time with me because she loves unconditionally.  Sometimes I get irritated with her and snap.  Earlier today she dropped her dirty ball on my couch and I told her to go away.  She just sat in front of me and dropped her head in shame until I told her everything was okay.  Then she began to furiously wag her tail because she is so thrilled I patted her head.  And she always forgives my temper immediately.  Her forgiveness does not have stipulations.  She forgives me because she loves me and it is as simple as that.

Eva just not contain her love to only myself or a few select people.  She is not shy in giving or showing her affection.  When Eva sees people she loves she starts to uncontrollably cry and wag her entire back end because just the tail is not at all sufficient to show you how happy she is to see you.  It does not matter if she saw you earlier the same day or two weeks ago, she will greet you with exactly the same amount of enthusiasm.

I want to live my life full of the same amount of happiness, love and gratitude.  Sometimes I feel jealous about the things I don’t have.  But today I am grateful.  There will always be things that I don’t have, it is simply unavoidable.  But I can be filled with happiness, gratitude and love for the many blessings I do have.  Today I can live in the present and not think about the things that happened yesterday, last month or last year that I wish I could change.  Today I can live in the present and not think about what I need to do to prepare for tomorrow, next month or next year.  Today I am going to throw the toy for Eva to catch over and over again until it becomes a disgusting slobbery mess.  I will be grateful for the soup in the fridge and the ability to throw slobbery toys.  I will quickly and unconditionally forgive people and hope they will do the same for me.  I will be grateful for the unconditional love of my dog and for my life which is full of many, many blessings. 

Being Present

I live in a small town where the pace of life is slow.  Growing up I was caught between loving and resenting it at the same time.  I would complain that there was never anything to do; there was no "culture."  I live on the lower eastern shore of Maryland, about 2 to 3 hours from D.C., Baltimore and Philadelphia.  In high school my friends and I would road trip it to the cities for concerts and shopping.  I loved those excursions but always complained about the drives.  What I failed to realize was that the drives are what I now cherish most.  It was during the drives that my friends and I shared and connected.

I went away to a small university in Charlotte, N.C.  I wanted to escape from the "bubble" of the Eastern Shore and would never return.  I was scornful of classmates who stayed or transferred into our local university.  I thought there was so much world to see and they were missing out.  I loved my university years.  My school gave me so much.  It taught me to embrace and experience the world.  I traveled to several countries in those years doing a variety of different work.  It taught me how to live with integrity. It taught me to be mindful and critical of myself and my surroundings.  It taught me to make the world a better place and made me a better person.  My university was able to accomplish this because it was small, rooted in community and put an emphasis on relationships.

In university I was obsessed with getting awesome grades and being involved.  I had very little free time and was constantly on the move.  I loved how filled my days were.  If my planner had gaps I would find something to fill the time with.  I filled my time with school work and "good deeds."  I put in countless hours volunteering on the national committee of an organization working to end genocide around the world through political advocacy.  I filled my time with emails, strategic planning and conference calls.  I was happy and fulfilled.  I was making a difference.

Then I moved to Guatemala.  I went hoping to learn about structures, hoping to learn how to create a better world.  I wanted to change the world in big and concrete ways.  I still want to change the world in big and concrete ways but my ideas of how to do that drastically changed in Guatemala.  I have been back from Guatemala for almost three years now and I still reflect on my time there and find new lessons.  That single year continues to teach me to be a better person.  That is because Guatemala taught me how to live. 

I learned about pace of life.  I learned the importance of slowing down.  You see, when I was moving at full speed I missed connections.  I made mistakes.  I forgot to love.  The pace of life in Guatemala is slow.  Really slow.  I lived with a Guatemalan family and we were always late.  To everything all the time.  I don't mean 10 minutes late.  We would be hours late to work, meetings, parties, etc.  Sometimes we were late due to public transportation.  Usually it is because we were caught up chatting.  We were caught up making human connections.  But I did not realize this at first.  At first I struggled a lot with the culture.  I would get upset when we were late to meetings because we were wasting people's time.  I would get frustrated with my family and friend's reactions to life.  Life is hard in Guatemala.  There is a lot of injustice that would make me so angry, to which the Guatemalan's would respond with, "pobrecito" (poor thing) or "que feo" (how ugly).  I was angry that Guatemalans had become desensitized to the hardships of others because it was such a reality of life.

There is a lot to be critical of in Guatemalan society, but that is not the particular point I am trying to make today.  What I realized is that Guatemalans are not desensitized to the pain of others.  They feel it more acutely than I ever did.  What they did was make human connections.  I would get irritated over being late but failed to see it was because we were creating community.  My Guatemalan friends would sit down, ask someone how they were, and be present in the answer.  Strangers would actually  tell us about their life.  Both the joys and the hardships, which we would absorb that, and make apart of us.  The workshops we gave women on self-esteem, rights, or STDs were mildly helpful but the reason the women came, what filled their souls was the companionship.  It was the long conversations about everything and nothing.  It was about being present.

Living is not about what you accomplish.  It is about being present in the moment.  It is about making connections and and loving your neighbor.  It is about being present in every moment, and cherishing it for what it is.  Sometimes those moments are joyous, and other times painful.  It was this realization that caused me to move back to the Eastern Shore.  The one place I never thought I would end up.

I have struggled a lot with this decision.  Sometimes I think I am not being challenged.  I am taking the safe route.  Sometimes I feel embarrassed when I tell people I am living here again and working with my dad.  Embarrassed because I think people expected more from me.  People expected me to go out in the world and work for some incredible NGO that is doing wonderful things.  I expected this from myself.  I expected to live a life where my schedule is full every day with emails, strategical panning and conference calls.  I thought that was what would make me happy and fulfilled.

What makes me happy and fulfilled is living with integrity and loving my neighbor and I found, at this point in my life, I can do that best here.  When my days were full I forgot to make connections.  I hid behind my to-do list and when I asked how someone was and they answered with "fine" I never asked follow-up questions.  I told myself I did not have time to listen, but really I was hiding from their pain and their joy.  I work in a small office where I deeply love my co-workers.  We talk about our lives, the pain and the joy.  We listen to each other and share in each others feelings.  I still struggle with creating new relationships, they scare me which is why I used to hide.  But I know I am in the right place.  My life is slow.  I still have adventures, my job gives me time to travel and explore.  I still believe in creating big, concrete changes.  But I also believe those changes can start small.  It can start with honest relationships. 

In university I participated in civil disobedience and was arrested.  Right after this happened I struggled with what that experience meant and a professor I admire very much told me she was proud of me.  She told me that our lives are about our own actions.  We cannot control what other people do, we can't control what they do with our actions, but we can control our own actions.  I doubt I will win the Nobel Peace Prize but what I do strive for every day is starting my day with love.

Solidarity

Solidarity is a word I struggle with. It is a word that invokes beautiful and comforting feelings. Personally, I feel it has come to mean a variety of different things for people and organizations, making it over used and has lost some of the beauty. Just look it up on Wikipedia. But true solidarity is hard. Really hard. True solidarity means making difficult and costly sacrifices.  To me, it means taking genuine safety risks and making yourself uncomfortable alongside the oppressed. A person I admire once told me, as I was complaining about something that made me uncomfortable, get over it, it is good for you. And I try to remember those words everyday because if I am comfortable I am doing something wrong. It is when we are uncomfortable we learn and grow the most.

Being a Christian means making hard sacrifices. I once read there is no cheap grace and nothing could be more true. Over and over again Jesus makes this clear. The grace of God is limitless but it is not free. We have to take action in order to receive it. Jesus was a radical and lived radically, I am not yet in a place to be as radical as he was. But I also accept that my acknowledgement of this does not excuse me. So I work really hard at being radical in other ways, and making sacrifices that are uncomfortable and sometimes dangerous. So, I came to Colombia. Because that is what it means to follow Jesus.

In order to practice solidarity here in Colombia I have had to enter intone  a community as an outsider. As a well educated upper middle class white female. I will never fully understand what it is like to live in constant fear, to have to lower my voice and whisper when I speak about the government. I will never understand what it is like to be unable to fill my children's bellies or face the reality or possibility of homelessness. I will never understand what it is like to be violently torn from my home and deal with the violent and unnecessary death of child. But I can choose to walk with the people of Colombia, taking safety risks alongside those who are targets of the violence to truly seek solidarity. These risks are required of me because my love for my neighbor demands it.

At the same time the Colombians have taken such good care of me, and shown me more love and generosity than I have ever experienced. And I have experienced some love and generosity in the past. Mary Kay and I have been to 5 churches in 3 weeks and each time we are sincerely welcomed. We are given the biggest hugs, fed the largest plates of food and given fruits at every occasion. We are given the master bedrooms in our home stays and the best fans. The Colombians sacrifice a lot to have us in their communities. And yet they hardly see it as a sacrifice. They tell us it is a honor. And that is because their sense of hospitality far exceeds my own but also because our presence is important. Even though they constantly worry about our safety, and accompany us across the street to the store, the reality is that THEIR safety is our priority. By taking part in this program I am following the command of Jesus when he told us, "I will lay down my life for you, and you must do that for each other." Together, Mary Kay and I are practicing this type of solidarity with the Colombians, as they are with us.