Just listen

It's been an interesting week.

Lately, whenever I feel an urge to write, something quenches it before I can get any words on the page. Kind of frustrating for a girl who stands in front of her students every day reminding them of the importance of story.

This week though, the pull is greater than my hesitancy. U2 is serenading me & thoughts of this past week are bouncing around recklessly inside my head.

I love being a teacher. It is, without a doubt, my calling to take students and inspire them in the best way I can to understand their stories are not only important, but necessary to society. More often than not, the resiliency of these teenagers surprise me.

Scenario One: My AP classes are taking part in a unit that came to me during morning devotionals a couple months ago: Mad as Hell - A Look at Community & the Individual's Responsibility to Poverty & Homelessness. All this week we have been reading and discussing thoughts from other intellectuals. Some who believe we should give 30% of our income straight to donations, others who hold fast to the Darwinian theory of "survival of the fittest." I had the privilege of sharing with them what I have learned over the past year - the importance of aid vs. empowerment. The result? An INCREDIBLE discussion today where I spoke a total of two minutes in each class because the students monopolized most of the talking time. (This is a good thing) The topic? Are we as individuals responsible to those in poverty and those who are homeless?

As always, especially with a discussion over a sensitive issue such as this, the kids amazed me with their insight. Some of my kids mentioned the current housing crisis and how much of the problems stem from banks loaning too much & people buying too extravagantly. Then she spoke. A quiet, happy, vivacious and gentle student who is always waiting for me when I get to school in the morning. With her chin quivering & tears in her eyes, she shared that losing a house does not always depend on the foolishness or laziness of the owner. In her situation, an absent father instigated the foreclosure sign being pushed into the grass outside her front door. The one memory she has of her father is rooted in his swindling money from her mother's bank account, causing them to go bankrupt & eventually lose their house. By the time she finished talking, tears were running freely and the room was completely silent. An eye-opener for some.

Scenario Two: My other classes, in preparation of the TAKS test, have been discussing the power of story. We watched The Freedom Writers, learned the Three Act Structure (thanks, Jason Russell) & played the line game.

We've had some interesting discussions in my classes this week because of this topic. Doesn't surprise me. These kids have so much to say & not many people listen to them. Offer them an ear? Be prepared to listen. After watching the movie, I asked the students how they felt in comparison to the kids at Wilson High. Obviously, we in B-town don't have the issues these kids in LA faced, but my students face some heavy shizz however you slice or dice it.

In one of my classes, a student raised her hand and asked if she could say something. Apparently, she comes from a mixed family. Her mother is Catholic. Her father? Muslim. When she was in middle school, she would wear the traditional Islamic head covering. Every day, after 5th period, a group of boys would kick, punch, push & hit her for no reason - other than what she was wearing. Walking down the halls weren't any different. Words were thrown towards her like knives, and the wounds didn't show until class a couple days ago. Sitting in my room crying after class, she continued to tell me that after she told her dad what happened, he went up to the school to complain. Administration did nothing. This of course, was seen by the boys as a victory. The harassment continued.

Today we played the line game. This will never cease to amaze me. Never. The class broke into two groups - separated by the tile on the floor. Question after question, students stepped up to the line.

Step up to the line if you have seen Friday the 13th

Step up to the line if you or someone you know has a problem with alcohol

Step up to the line if you or someone you know has experienced gang violence

Step up to the line if you have been shot at

Step up to the line if you have lost someone within the past year.

Stay on the line if you have lost two people.

Three.

Four.

Step up to the line if you know where to get drugs.

Step up to the line if you have lost someone due to drug overdose

Step up to the line if you have experimented with any illegal narcotic

Step up to the line if you or someone you know has been or is currently homeless...

The questions were numerous & silly & personal & heartbreaking. The one I hate asking but always do is "Step up to the line if you have had a teacher tell you that you are stupid."

It never fails. I always have kids step up to the line.

One girl began crying towards the end of the game. She was the only one who stuck close to the wall when asked, "Step up to the line if deep down, in your heart of hearts, you know you could accomplish something great if given the chance." Snotting on my shoulder, she told me that because of this game, she realized how little she thought of herself. I wrote her a note later on in study hall. Something simple - "I believe in you. - Mrs. R"

She stuck it in her binder - right next to a picture of one of her close friends who passed away earlier this year.

This wasn't the only surprise of the day. Of course. After the line game, we came back into the room and continued the questioning. I grabbed a stress ball and threw it at a student - asking a question. The student answered & threw it at someone else, asking this person a different question. The atmosphere was palpable. There were a few times some students were close to tears, and there were a lot of laughs - but the most important thing? In every class, the students left a family.

These next few weeks will determine how close those familial bonds have welded together.

I've said all this for a number of reasons.

If you have kids - listen to them. They want to talk. In my 7th period, one of my students I had two years ago turned around in his desk and looked at me.

"Mrs. Ramirez, could you get every teacher to do this?"

I laughed. "Why do you say that? You wanting some blow-off classes or something?"

He smiled. "No. Not at all. It's just...you? You're trying to reach us. The other teachers just stand in front of us & talk. They don't listen."

They don't listen.

Makes me wonder. How many kids are out there who just want someone to listen to their story?

i wonder

i don't claim to have it all figured out.
in fact, the past couple of weeks have been testament to me knowing absolutely nothing about the mind of God and His purpose. no...i don't have it all figured out.
but i have been shattered with the truth of "draw near to me, and i will draw near to you."

when russ and i first got married, we lived in this dilapidated apartment with a ten degree slant. i tripped going to the restroom in the morning and all of my cakes came out of the oven strangely reminiscent to those of the mad hatter genre - tilted and crooked and so completely lopsided. we held on for dear life walking down the stairs to our car because the slant was so severe. we were happy, though. life was simple.
my last paycheck from working at new braunfels christian came the week after our wedding - and with it a realization that i needed to find a job. and fast. russ worked full time at circuit city and made a decent amount - but we weren't sure it would hold us over without any other form of income supporting us.
we went three months on just his income.
i landed a job in august - a few days shy of the "new teacher orientation" - and so immediately my life changed from relaxed to hurried. professional development, lesson plans, new faces and new regulations - a lot to swallow with only a few days preparation before kids arrived. i worked most of august and all of september until i saw my first paycheck. i remember that day - i remember the huge sigh of relief russ and i breathed now that we had added income to help cushion us. i remember the Lord's provision. in moments where we should have been concerned about what was going to happen...we were taken care of by His faithfulness.
a couple weeks ago, i began praying earnestly for the Lord to really reveal where He was leading russ and me. it's no secret that this past summer did something to us, like some shift in perspective has landed us in a world where we can't go back to how we were before. it's come with consequences: lost relationships and misunderstandings. but it has also come with great reward: deeper relationships with each other and unparalleled support from our community of friends we have found through the process of pruning. one thing is for sure: the Lord gives and the Lord takes away. blessed be his name.
everything came crashing down around us last week. my day began with a prayer: "Father - we can't do this anymore. show us Your will. make it so blatant we cannot ignore." i prayed this in the morning - asking for peace and opened doors and dangerous faith.
russ lost his job that afternoon.
it was...heartbreaking. sudden and swift and harsh - we were left with a fraction of a life we had before. i'm not just talking about income here...there's something psychological that occurs within you when something is stripped away without warning. grief took over - but not completely. there was no way we could shake the feeling of peace that God was doing something within us and through us. there was no other possible explanation - no other reasonable excuse - to understand what happened. i had prayed to see His hand that morning, and by nightfall, His fingerprints were revealing themselves everywhere.
it's been tough. there have been moments of discouragement and moments of worry. for the first time in four years, we are questioning where we go and what we spend - knowing that the future is so unknown for so many people right now, ourselves included. but...we have hope.
we've been given dreams. big dreams. dreams of living a life less ordinary and more bent on trust and belief that God is bigger than any injustice in the world...and now, we have freedom to pursue those dreams.
this past summer, russ and i came across a verse that spoke deeply to our desires of walking like giants: "And these are but the outer fringe of his works; how faint the whisper we hear of him! Who then can understand the thunder of his power?" Job 26:14
if you think about it, most of us live our lives content with his whispers. we pray for his guidance in big decisions but never really ask for him to mediate for us in a big way. why do we need a God who will show himself? we have everything we need...our life of complacency and comfort leaves us dry and stagnant. we never understand there can be so much more...there IS so much more...
we prayed and begged and waited to experience the thunder of his power - knowing he was whispering big dreams we had never anticipated.
we waited.
and
waited.
and
waited.
and begin to wonder what His purpose was in giving us such big dreams when it didn't seem as though we were getting anywhere...
looking back at these past six months, i am beginning to wonder...
perhaps all of the tears shed has watered the ground beneath us for new growth.
perhaps the doors slammed shut in our faces have given room for others to open.
perhaps our ears have been so clogged with busy-ness his thunder has been muted by our persistent ignorance...
God is bigger.
He's bigger than all of our circumstances and all of our trials we go through. He carries us. in moments of despair - He is there, wiping our tears and cultivating new growth.
i sense a beginning taking shape in russ and me. somewhere in the distance, a faint rumble sounds...the recent storm has passed; a rainbow glistens in the rain.
i close my eyes and listen.
his thunder is here.

Hearing His Heartbeat

Stop long enough to hear the heartbeat of God...

I heard this phrase a couple months ago and I haven't been able to shake it. Perhaps because it's a reminder of me to well, stop. The other night, I was feeling kinda low and kinda down on myself, and so I pulled out my journal and read some entries I wrote this past summer. One centered around Isaiah 55 - one of my favorite chapters of the Bible - and my eyes fell to this verse: 

Come to me with your ears wide open. Listen, and you will find life. I will make an everlasting covenant with you. I will give you all the unfailing love I promised to David. (vs. 3) 

I thought back to when this verse had such a profound impact on my life. When I specifically heard Christ say to just stop and pay attention to what He is wanting from me. 

You see, I think we as Christ followers get so caught up in getting things done - finding the next big accomplishment so we can check the brightest and prettiest box. Our lives get so mundane and boring and predictable, Christ is forgotten within His own people. Who has time to stop and listen when you have meetings at church and ministry in the afternoon and small group at six - it can get suffocating. 

Stop long enough to hear the heartbeat of God...

I would imagine it would be pretty difficult to get this still. When was the last time you heard someone's heartbeat? Our inability for intimacy often causes us to hold people at arm's length, and in turn, this effects our relationship with our Lover. In order to hear His heartbeat we must be intimate. In order to be intimate, we must be willing to stop. 

I want this. I want to be so close to my Creator His heartbeat drums in my ear. I can't move but feel His breath on my cheek; I can't speak but feel His presence near. 

But I have so far to go. 

So, I do the only thing I know. I stop. I listen. I dwell in His presence until I feel Him all around me and the only thing I can do is tearfully acknowledge my microscopic worth compared to His stunning and infinite glory. Am I human? Yes. Can He move through me? I hope so. 

The journal entry that sparked this reflection was about stories. This summer I felt an unquenchable pull to tell the stories of those less fortunate. To blow the whistle, so to speak, on injustices I see. It's difficult to look back and see inadequacies in your calling - where you have failed and where you have missed the mark. At the same time, it's amazing to continue to see the tapestry of your life coming together. There have been innumerable instances these past few months where I have come across the concept of "story." Whether it be an article someone e-mails to me or a book I happen to pick up and read or a quote on a teacher's wall or a website I come across - everything has been about this concept of "story" and the importance of sharing one's with the world. 

So I press on, knowing my refining is far from over. My ragged edges still need some sanding down. But, I'm ready. I sense a change coming - a chapter of my life closing and a new one beginning. I'm not sure precisely what God has in store for Russ and myself, but this state of limbo has been oddly exhilarating. Perhaps because we know we aren't moving until we hear "GO." Until then, I'll continue listening for whatever story He wants me to tell. 

be the change.

this is going to be pretty quick. a couple weeks ago, i was given a challenge to participate in a secret mission to end poverty.  i jumped at the chance, and this is what resulted. 

i am going to ask you something. something simple, really. what would it be like to not have shoes? i know it's something we take for granted and for most of us, it's pretty hard to conceptualize. however - today there are over 300 million people in the world who do not have shoes and are forced to walk around horrible conditions. not only is this unsafe physically, but the ramifications of looking down constantly holds a negative emotional effect as well. it's demeaning and robs these people of their dignity and confidence. 

it doesn't have to be like this. 

Soles4Souls is a Nashville based charity who has one mission - get shoes to people who need shoes. a couple weeks ago wayne elsey, founder soles4souls, and anne jackson, author of mad church disease, brainstormed about ways to get this message out to as many people as possible using social media. they came up with www.50000shoes.com - a website challenging people to donate 5 bucks. yeah - that's it. 5 bucks. this in turn would buy 2 pairs of shoes and provide protection for those in need. 

this doesn't end here, though. this morning, at least 150 bloggers will blog about this campaign and spread the word via the internet. we need you to turn around and spread the word to those  you know. here's the math: 

if 500 people influence 10 people to donate, and those people influence 5 more, that's 50,000 pairs of shoes (remember - 5 bucks buys 2 pairs!)

please help this become a reality. anne and wayne believe we can raise enough for 100,000 pairs, and i wholeheartedly agree. i have seen what happens when people come together for change and truly believe they can make a difference. 

oh and, you can win a trip to Mexico. 

if you donate online, you are automatically entered for a chance to travel to Mexico to give shoes. can you imagine giving someone their first pair of shoes???

i said it was going to be quick, and i speak the truth. 

50000shoes.com - donate today. 

tell your friends. 

change a life. 

Quiet Beauty

The matter is quite simple. The Bible is very easy to understand. But we Christians are a bunch of scheming swindlers. We pretend to be unable to understand it because we know very well that the minute we understand, we are obliged to act accordingly. Take any words from the New Testament and forget everything except pledging yourself to act accordingly. My God, you will say, if I do that my whole life will be ruined. How will I ever get on in the world? Herein lies the real place of Christian scholarship. Christian scholarship is the Church’s prodigious invention to defend itself against the Bible, to ensure that we can continue to be good Christians without the Bible coming too close. Oh, priceless scholarship, what would we do without you? Dreadful it is to fall into the hands of the living God. Yes, it is even dreadful to be alone with the New Testament. 

-Soren Kierkegaard 

We took the youth to Martha’s Kitchen today. A couple of churches in the area got together and did a “Top Chef” type event - each making key dishes to serve to the homeless in the area. I wasn’t able to really speak to any of the people who came and ate, because I was busy serving them food, but I was able to look into their eyes. I saw a lot of brokenness. I saw men and women who, for whatever reason, were now outcasts of society. I saw the question in their eyes; the wondering of why we were doing what we were doing.

It broke me.

When everyone had been fed, and when most of the people had left for the evening, a man came with a tupperware box for leftovers. We gave him as much as he could fit into the container, and as he left he turned around and said, “Thank you for what you are doing. I wish more churches would get involved in something like this...the people need it. Churches need it.” 

I sat there stunned. Yes! Yes. This is so true. Russ, sitting next to me, chuckled and said, “Absolutely. I would even go so far as to say the church needs it more than the people.” The man smiled, nodded, and said softly, “Exactly. I would have been a lot more involved in the church I went to had they done stuff like this.”

There’s this girl in our youth group. Just recently, she came to know Christ. In the span of a week, she trusted Him completely and followed through in baptism. She was there tonight, standing next to me, serving these people with absolute joy. As we were headed to the car later in the evening, she said, “Well this was kind of disappointing.”

I asked her why. She then said, “So many of the youth were just hanging out in the shade-not wanting to help. That’s sad.” 

Russ looked at her and said, “Well, there are three types of people in the world. Those who are ignorant, those who see what is going on and refuse to do anything, and those who see what is going on and determine to everything they can to stop it.”

She looked at us and smiled - “That’s going to be me. I am going to do something.” 

I thought about these two situations a lot this evening. Two outside observers - two different worlds - one realization. 

Dorothy Day once said, “The true atheists is one who denies God’s image in the ‘least of these’” and I can’t help but wonder exactly what type of image we are giving off as a church. Think about it. Are we truly showing His love? Truly? 

If we are, then newspapers won’t have to come out when they hear a few churches are ministering to the homeless. They won’t have to, because it will be so common place that it isn’t news anymore. It’s not an event, it’s a way of life. 

In the middle of all of this, I spoke to another dear friend on the phone who is experiencing just a bit of spiritual warfare concerning her speaking to her church this Sunday. She told me, “Church has become a place where people check their brains at the door and sit in a service for fifty minutes and listen to whatever message the preacher has. Sunday is the only day where people allow themselves to be absolutely brain dead, and people wonder where God is on Sunday mornings. He’s not in church. He’s not in church because no one invites him there anymore. If you want to go where God is on Sundays, try the soup kitchens, because there, people actually want to hear what he has to say.” 

I think the key here is that church has become a place. Not until Constantine was Christianity supposed to be organized. Read Acts. We are supposed to be a living, active example of Christ’s love - reaching out to other through our community of believers. 

I know this a lot to digest, and to be honest, I’m still working through a lot of what has transpired these past few weeks. One thing is for certain: I don’t want to be comfortable. I desire for God to continue to reveal his glory through still whispers and magnificent thunder. I desire to be used. I desire to look into the eyes of those considered less than me, those in which society and time has forgot, and show them that there is One in me who sees their beauty. 

Wrecked of the Ordinary

I have 28 pairs of shoes. 28. I sat in my closet today, counting with tears welling up in my eyes. This past weekend Russ and I went to my family’s church in New Braunfels, and in typical God-fashion, the sermon was something that resonated with me deeply. Rusty challenged us to go home and count our shoes. To look around and notice our priorities and understand that to the world, we are rich.    He counted. He had 20 shoes. A middle aged man with twenty pairs. The boys in his family equaled almost 50 pairs. He was broken. 

I was too. The only thing I could think of was my “necessity” for these shoes at the time I bought them. 

Oh. I need a new pair of black heels. Done.

I need some more tennis. Done. 

These flip flops are so cute. Done.

I read a friend’s blog today where he mentioned that since he truly began following Christ, his life has become a little more wrecked every day. I can relate. Suddenly, these 28 pairs of shoes don’t seem exciting, they seem almost ludicrous. Excessive. Selfish. 

Since Russ and I have come back from Lake J, it seems like God is continually bringing us to new realizations. Elizabeth mentioned to me the other day on the phone that it’s almost as though God is dropping atomic bombs on us left and right filled with His presence and His power. And this is such a good thing and I haven’t ever experienced a tangible feeling of constant movement on His part like I have these past few weeks. Because of this, I am so wrecked of the ordinary. 

I want to stay this way. In Jesus for President, Shane Claiborne’s mother is mentioned. She says that there is no more dangerous place for a Christian to be than in safety and comfort, detached from the suffering of others. This breaks me. We always hear about the dangers of apathy and complacency but do we honestly know when we ourselves have fallen victim? 

I don’t think so. Apathy weaves itself around the soul and takes root in the heart. Usually, apathy shows itself as a silent killer: you realize that you have become apathetic; you may even try to desperately separate yourself from the overwhelming urge to just sit, but it never leaves. And you just sit there. Apathy just plays that one chord song over and over again...never really desiring anything different. 

And then you count your shoes, you take a look around your apartment stuffed with things and nonessentials and fancy accumulations and you wonder. Is this all there is? 

He replies, “Sell your possessions and give to those in need. This will store up treasure for you in heaven! And the purses of heaven never get old or develop holes. Your treasure will be safe; no thief can steal it and no moth can destroy it. Wherever your treasure is, there the desires of your heart will also be.” Luke 12:33-34

and

“Learn to do good. Seek justice. Help the oppressed. Defend the cause of orphans. Fight for the rights of widows.” Isaiah 1:17

and

“Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you.” James 1:27

How can we not care? How can we not hear these words and realize that there is more to life and God is calling us to a deeper and more intimate relationship with Him where we truly act out what it means to be a Christ follower?

“Let’s pray that God would give us the strength to storm the gates of hell and tear down the walls we have created between us and those whose suffering would disrupt our comfort. May we become familiar with the suffering of the poor outside our gates, know their names and taste the salt in their tears. Then when the ‘ones God has rescued’, the Lazaruses of our world - the baby refugees, the mentally ill wanderers, and the homeless outcasts - are seated next to God, we can say, “We’re with them.” 

-Shane Claiborne

Ears Wide Open

 

We just left Lake J. We’re back on the road - driving through rolling hills and rain and plenty of restroom stops. I feel as though I need to make a disclaimer before I even begin to sum up my thoughts. 

It’s going to take awhile for me to process what exactly happened this past week. But know this: God moved. The sleeping giant is most certainly stirring. And while there is no possible way for me to fully explain what God is doing in my heart, in Russ’ heart, know that we will certainly try. 

It was about three and a half years ago, and I was having a hard time falling asleep in the stuffiness of my bedroom. Russ and I weren’t married yet, I was in the middle of my first teaching job, and I was restless. 

That night, as my eyes attempted to stay shut despite my mind going 90 mph, I heard a voice so clearly I couldn’t avoid it. 

I am going to use you and Russell.

My eyes opened. I shifted in my covers and waited. Did I just hear what I thought I heard?

You will be used to reach thousands. 

Right about now I started freaking out. My hands started sweating, my heart began beating faster, I glanced at the clock: 2:00 AM. Then I hear something else. 

Isaiah 55 - read it. 

I argued for about three minutes, what with the light already being out and me already being snug in my covers, but I realized fairly quickly just who I was arguing and well, that I would never win. 

I opened my Bible and started reading. This is what stuck out to me in stunning clarity:

Surely you will summon nations you know not, and nations that do not know you will hasten to you, because of the LORD your God,the Holy One of Israel,for he has endowed you with splendor. (v.5)

What strikes me the most about this verse is the ending. It’s what you would call a cumulative sentence - everything is at the beginning. However, we could miss something big here. What  hit me in between the eyes is “because of the LORD your God...” 

Yeah. That little phrase packs a punch. Because of him and his work in our lives, we would accomplish these things.

Do you believe me now? I heard him say. 

I went to bed with a smiling heart and big dreams. 

But, like always, life gets in the way. He’s brought me back to that verse numerous times, and reminded me that what I think I have planned pales in comparison to his dreams for me, but I can be just as A.D.D as the best of them, and I forget these promises. Until this past week. 

It was Tuesday night, before Laren got on stage. Before Sean and the battle cry on injustice. It was just me and God. 

I have something for you. 

I closed my eyes. 

Isaiah 55

I have to admit. I wondered. It’s not like I hadn’t read it before. But I opened it anyway, Looking for what He had to tell me. And there it was. 

Come to me with your ears wide open. Listen, and you will find life. I will make an everlasting covenant with you. I will give you all the unfailing love I promised to David. (v.3) 

I read it about five times, back to back, with tears in my eyes. Because you see, this was just a step in what he had for me. This was only a piece of the puzzle. But I had to listen. 

It came this morning. 

It was the last worship service before we packed up and left. I was tired. The past two nights had taken their toll on my emotions, and I was spent. But I wanted more. 

Eddie started playing “God of this City” and immediately I started weeping. For every line, there was a different scene played out in my mind.

You’re the God of this city - A child is trafficed into slavery every two minutes. Some even in the United States.

You’re the Lord of this nation - Over 90% of the rebel army in n. Uganda are child soldiers

You’re the King of the people - North Korea has one of the most secretive states and leads the world in punishing those who practice the Christian faith. 

You are - But yet, God is bigger. 

And the whole time we’re singing this song, I can’t even spit a word out because I’m absolutely broken. And then, I hear it. 

Tell our story. 

A peace comes over me. I suddenly know what God was wanting to tell me. Tell our story. 

Âbsolutely. 

But that’s not all. Throughout this whole week, the one thing that has echoed repeatedly is the necessity and willingness of sacrifice. Of leaving everything. Of taking that step of faith. Of pushing back doubt and appreciating friends who will push back with you. Of having the courage to dream with God. And knowing that dreaming with God usually ends up with your life being wrecked and exciting and hard and adventurous and breathtakingly serene. 

Russ and I are still processing what God did, and what He is asking of us. I have a feeling though we are on the brink of an incredible adventure.