At times like this I don't know what to feel
Anger of course, heat rising up
like summer sun on a Missouri sidewalk
I am painfully ashamed at my country's concept of justice
It makes no sense, it makes no sense
repeating to myself as I shake my head
The only words that come to mind are heart-broken and shattered
desperate for change
Losing "progress" that I'm not sure we ever gained
You can't take slavery and rename it racism
and then just call it "the way things are"
You can't have violence just for violence sake
But really this system went up in flames
long before the day that it was decided that a young man's life
wasn't even worth a trial
Living in denial, somehow still thinking that things are just fine
I will never have to justify the fact that my life matters with a hashtag
I sit here so far removed, so confused
Not wanting to even look at the news
because I just want to hear the stories
Knowing that an abuse of power is deeply rooted
in a systematic injustice that is so hard to undo
I will never have to clarify that I do not have a gun on me
But his legacy is not meant to be a burned up and vandalized community
"Channeling your frustration in ways that will make a positive change"
At times like this I don't know what to feel
Not because I am white but because I am human
Because my heart breaks knowing that
a boy's life should never bring about violence
and neither should his death
Justice isn't found in bullet holes and chalk outlines
flaming cars or smoke filled skies
Silence rarely brings about change
But it seems to be what I'm filled with
Deafening silence that aches in my bones
because I don't even know where to begin
This is neither the beginning nor the end
A continuation of disgrace, bringing to light a plague
That we've allowed to sicken us for so long
Song after song crying out
We are hurting, we are broken, we are honestly a mess
It makes no sense, it makes no sense
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
The Light
The light is fading
catch it quick
Slip it into the drink of a young girl who needs it
Paint it on your finger tips
Smudge it on your cheekbones
Know that you are not in this alone
Let your breath fall like raindrops on a Tuesday afternoon
You are not you
You are the compilation of decades of dreamers
just trying to matter- just trying to take up space
You are your Mama's artwork, Daddy's best catch
You are the exhale of a Monday morning,
a constant "Here we go again"
The light is fading
tame it quick
Whisper it into existence
Name it with your lips
Write it into your daily routine
right after your brush your teeth
The flicker of candlelight on a Friday night
wrapped up in sheets
You are the music moving the story
The dramatic pause and the cascading conclusion
You are the very pulse of movement
The light is fading
hold it quick
Stitch the warmth into the lines on your palms
You'll need it when the gray clouds come
covering you from horizon to horizon
You are the boldness of sun
daring to rise and
You are salt water stinging eyes
You are a mess and you're still here
The ribcage in your chest more capable than you thought
of holding up your heavy heart
The light is fading
find it quick
Sunday, September 21, 2014
Redeemed
I've never been one of the cool kids
With the right gym shoes and the right words to say
I've never been picked first or felt loved most
I trip over my words and over my feet
And some days it seems that I undo more "good" than I speak
And still You've picked me
Out of a crowd and up into Your arms
You've chosen me to be Your Beloved
How good it feels to be called home after I've made mess after mess
Dug holes in the yard and filled them with my regrets
You've picked me
I have been redeemed
Seen even when I feel unseen, unclean
I have wrestled with demons and heartache and lost
But my Savior paid more than the cost when he died for me
Set free from all of my own insecurities
My addiction to making everything seem settled and safe
I've learned that your grace works most in the midst of the waves
chaos abounding often leading to love astounding
Like winning a race I didn't know I was running
I will always be running
You set my course and anoint my feet
Giving me worth when I should have been worthless
Purchased by the blood of a Savior
Who paid my entrance fee into the kingdom of glory
I have been redeemed
And still day after day I'm learning what that means
That I am free in his love and the security of knowing
that even in the moments I feel lost, I've been found
You have called me higher
Made me to love deeper and wider
But I wasn't left to walk this terrain alone
Surrounded by community formed of holy unity
You put on your hiking boots and came to walk by my side
And I am called to arise
Rescued from darkness and brought into light
With wounds in my sides that seem to match Yours
I have been jaded and hurt, I've wandered and lied
but through it all you've picked me
Saved me through Your wishing well ways
Washed clean by buckets and buckets grace
I have been redeemed
With the right gym shoes and the right words to say
I've never been picked first or felt loved most
I trip over my words and over my feet
And some days it seems that I undo more "good" than I speak
And still You've picked me
Out of a crowd and up into Your arms
You've chosen me to be Your Beloved
How good it feels to be called home after I've made mess after mess
Dug holes in the yard and filled them with my regrets
You've picked me
I have been redeemed
Seen even when I feel unseen, unclean
I have wrestled with demons and heartache and lost
But my Savior paid more than the cost when he died for me
Set free from all of my own insecurities
My addiction to making everything seem settled and safe
I've learned that your grace works most in the midst of the waves
chaos abounding often leading to love astounding
Like winning a race I didn't know I was running
I will always be running
You set my course and anoint my feet
Giving me worth when I should have been worthless
Purchased by the blood of a Savior
Who paid my entrance fee into the kingdom of glory
I have been redeemed
And still day after day I'm learning what that means
That I am free in his love and the security of knowing
that even in the moments I feel lost, I've been found
You have called me higher
Made me to love deeper and wider
But I wasn't left to walk this terrain alone
Surrounded by community formed of holy unity
You put on your hiking boots and came to walk by my side
And I am called to arise
Rescued from darkness and brought into light
With wounds in my sides that seem to match Yours
I have been jaded and hurt, I've wandered and lied
but through it all you've picked me
Saved me through Your wishing well ways
Washed clean by buckets and buckets grace
I have been redeemed
Friday, August 15, 2014
Sweet Summer
We arrived with clean feet and open hearts
Some of us more ready than others-
a ragtag bunch of people attempting to get it right
and not always knowing exactly what "right" is
We were greeted by the pine trees with their brave branches,
the sun peeking through as if to say "Welcome home"
We sat in circles and prayed in circles and ran in circles
preparing for the days to come
But how can you prepare for the lakeside conversations that break your heart?
Or the nights spent stargazing, staring off into an endless sky created by an endless Creator
Or the hours upon hours spent scooping ice cream and watching children play in the water
singing to ourselves "No place I'd rather be"
I swear that laughter is God's joy personified
And this summer we laughed and cried and laughed until we cried
We broke bread and broke down
Each day offering a new chance, a new start, a new song
We were called to love and to teach and to empower
But there were mornings that I really didn't feel like getting out of bed
And still the Christ in me said "Let's tackle this one together
and learn a little bit about grace along the way"
This was not a mountaintop summer but instead a summer of foundation
Of building up the important things
and breaking away the not so important ones
It was a summer of empty coffee cups and beautiful conversations
Of growing and learning and letting go and changing
I think it rained so much not just to keep us on our toes
But to let us know that though storms may come
we are held safe by our Maker
Gentle raindrops calling "Come and worship, come be washed clean"
We'll leave this summer with dirty feet and full hearts
Some of us more ready than others-
a ragtag family of sisters and brothers in Christ
ready to go out and be light
Because we know that even when the dirt road turns to pavement
and the summer sky fades to fall
Camp isn't just a season, it's a feeling
A feeling of being loved and free and a tad bit crazy
Never an ending, always a fresh start
Knowing that we've become a part of each other's stories
Creating new testimonies in a place that always beckons
"Come back soon"
Some of us more ready than others-
a ragtag bunch of people attempting to get it right
and not always knowing exactly what "right" is
We were greeted by the pine trees with their brave branches,
the sun peeking through as if to say "Welcome home"
We sat in circles and prayed in circles and ran in circles
preparing for the days to come
But how can you prepare for the lakeside conversations that break your heart?
Or the nights spent stargazing, staring off into an endless sky created by an endless Creator
Or the hours upon hours spent scooping ice cream and watching children play in the water
singing to ourselves "No place I'd rather be"
I swear that laughter is God's joy personified
And this summer we laughed and cried and laughed until we cried
We broke bread and broke down
Each day offering a new chance, a new start, a new song
We were called to love and to teach and to empower
But there were mornings that I really didn't feel like getting out of bed
And still the Christ in me said "Let's tackle this one together
and learn a little bit about grace along the way"
This was not a mountaintop summer but instead a summer of foundation
Of building up the important things
and breaking away the not so important ones
It was a summer of empty coffee cups and beautiful conversations
Of growing and learning and letting go and changing
I think it rained so much not just to keep us on our toes
But to let us know that though storms may come
we are held safe by our Maker
Gentle raindrops calling "Come and worship, come be washed clean"
We'll leave this summer with dirty feet and full hearts
Some of us more ready than others-
a ragtag family of sisters and brothers in Christ
ready to go out and be light
Because we know that even when the dirt road turns to pavement
and the summer sky fades to fall
Camp isn't just a season, it's a feeling
A feeling of being loved and free and a tad bit crazy
Never an ending, always a fresh start
Knowing that we've become a part of each other's stories
Creating new testimonies in a place that always beckons
"Come back soon"
Saturday, May 24, 2014
A Letter to My Younger Self
You are destined for wonderful adventures
but you are also destined for mistakes
Do not hold your wide eyes and open hands too closely to the idea of being perfect
It will only lead to self loathing at 2 AM
When all you can do is analyze every mistake you made that day
or that week, or that year
Instead, know that your hands may fail you
and your feet may wander down dangerous trails of thought
But you will surprise yourself consistently with how well you bounce back
How quickly your mind adapts to new places and new people and new shoes to fill
Stay away from the ones who do not care for you well
You were not made to conveniently fit into the life of someone who calls you beautiful
Sometimes people will make you feel like you are a wallflower
At least be a daisy, a sunflower
Something that makes others smile
And try not to let them grind your self esteem down to a grain of sand
Sand is too soft, they'll walk all over you
Instead be wood chips, pine needles, even cactus spikes
Do not be afraid to leave a lasting impression
You probably won't grow to be as tall as you hoped for
but do not get too caught up on size
Focus instead on how big your heart is, how big you love
Make sure you go out of your way to help flowers bloom in sidewalk cracks
And every now and then, take a step back
and marvel at how much good there really is in this world
even if you have to squint your eyes and tilt your head to see it sometimes
It's there, I promise
Darkness will always threaten to seep into your pores
but don't let it get too comfortable
You were made by a God who knows darkness like no other
And yet He still calls it light
There will be days when you're running incredibly late
and your clothes don't sit the way you want them too
and you haven't done your math homework yet
(you'll probably never do your math homework)
But trust me, it's not the end of the world
You will have days when you can't lift your head off the pillow
and people you know will leave this world far too young
and teachers will place limits on your future with red pen and raised eyebrows
and all you'll want to do is retreat into your own bones
But it still will not be the end of the world
Because your world is just beginning
You will have first kisses and road trips and nights where you eat way too much ice cream
You will dwell in the pages of far too many good books
and learn to not read people too quickly when you meet them
You will sing on stages and sing in churches and learn to tell the difference between the two
There will be weeks when everything feels so incredibly right
and weeks when you're in over your head
Do not waste too much time trying to do it all on your own
You may be strong, but your arms will never be able to hold
all that you try to put on your plate
And always remember that you will never be too far from others' love and grace
but you are also destined for mistakes
Do not hold your wide eyes and open hands too closely to the idea of being perfect
It will only lead to self loathing at 2 AM
When all you can do is analyze every mistake you made that day
or that week, or that year
Instead, know that your hands may fail you
and your feet may wander down dangerous trails of thought
But you will surprise yourself consistently with how well you bounce back
How quickly your mind adapts to new places and new people and new shoes to fill
Stay away from the ones who do not care for you well
You were not made to conveniently fit into the life of someone who calls you beautiful
Sometimes people will make you feel like you are a wallflower
At least be a daisy, a sunflower
Something that makes others smile
And try not to let them grind your self esteem down to a grain of sand
Sand is too soft, they'll walk all over you
Instead be wood chips, pine needles, even cactus spikes
Do not be afraid to leave a lasting impression
You probably won't grow to be as tall as you hoped for
but do not get too caught up on size
Focus instead on how big your heart is, how big you love
Make sure you go out of your way to help flowers bloom in sidewalk cracks
And every now and then, take a step back
and marvel at how much good there really is in this world
even if you have to squint your eyes and tilt your head to see it sometimes
It's there, I promise
Darkness will always threaten to seep into your pores
but don't let it get too comfortable
You were made by a God who knows darkness like no other
And yet He still calls it light
There will be days when you're running incredibly late
and your clothes don't sit the way you want them too
and you haven't done your math homework yet
(you'll probably never do your math homework)
But trust me, it's not the end of the world
You will have days when you can't lift your head off the pillow
and people you know will leave this world far too young
and teachers will place limits on your future with red pen and raised eyebrows
and all you'll want to do is retreat into your own bones
But it still will not be the end of the world
Because your world is just beginning
You will have first kisses and road trips and nights where you eat way too much ice cream
You will dwell in the pages of far too many good books
and learn to not read people too quickly when you meet them
You will sing on stages and sing in churches and learn to tell the difference between the two
There will be weeks when everything feels so incredibly right
and weeks when you're in over your head
Do not waste too much time trying to do it all on your own
You may be strong, but your arms will never be able to hold
all that you try to put on your plate
And always remember that you will never be too far from others' love and grace
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Things That Sweden Taught Me
Sometimes God yells and dances and claps Her hands
But sometimes She quietly whispers hymns through fields of yellow flowers
Just because things aren't happening loudly doesn't mean they aren't happening at all
And I think we've begun to forget that there is power in stillness
There is power in being small
That some days your feet have to stop moving
so that your mind can stop too
I'm convinced that the best medicine is Scripture and a strong cup of coffee
That days spent laying in the grass are not days wasted at all
Quiet revivals can rumble in cafes and countrysides and cathedrals
Volume is not necessarily noise, it's just the amount of space taken up
Maybe we should let Her fill in the silence more often
instead of rushing to do it ourselves
In fact, She's quite skilled at creating something out of nothing
Painting beautiful scenery out of ashes and mud
We've become all too littered with desires and destructive decisions
But when you are seemingly plucked from all that you know
it becomes easier to examine the core of who you are
Maybe we're best when taken out of context
I don't think I'll every truly know what it feels like to be comfortably home
But I can remain comfortable in knowing that there are pieces of Home all over this Earth
Reflections of a God that is unfathomably vast
I'm grateful that we're never expected to bear Her image alone
If you listen hard enough, you'll hear the footsteps of brave people
walking down cobblestone streets
Fountains catching coins and laughing at silly wishes
secretly hoping that they will come true
First dates and first prayers and first times for everything
You'll hear children's laughter breaking down barriers
And directions given to strangers
I'm grateful that "Hallelujah" is the same in every language
But sometimes She quietly whispers hymns through fields of yellow flowers
Just because things aren't happening loudly doesn't mean they aren't happening at all
And I think we've begun to forget that there is power in stillness
There is power in being small
That some days your feet have to stop moving
so that your mind can stop too
I'm convinced that the best medicine is Scripture and a strong cup of coffee
That days spent laying in the grass are not days wasted at all
Quiet revivals can rumble in cafes and countrysides and cathedrals
Volume is not necessarily noise, it's just the amount of space taken up
Maybe we should let Her fill in the silence more often
instead of rushing to do it ourselves
In fact, She's quite skilled at creating something out of nothing
Painting beautiful scenery out of ashes and mud
We've become all too littered with desires and destructive decisions
But when you are seemingly plucked from all that you know
it becomes easier to examine the core of who you are
Maybe we're best when taken out of context
I don't think I'll every truly know what it feels like to be comfortably home
But I can remain comfortable in knowing that there are pieces of Home all over this Earth
Reflections of a God that is unfathomably vast
I'm grateful that we're never expected to bear Her image alone
If you listen hard enough, you'll hear the footsteps of brave people
walking down cobblestone streets
Fountains catching coins and laughing at silly wishes
secretly hoping that they will come true
First dates and first prayers and first times for everything
You'll hear children's laughter breaking down barriers
And directions given to strangers
I'm grateful that "Hallelujah" is the same in every language
Friday, May 2, 2014
Are We There Yet?
The soles of my feet were not created with road maps printed on them
I am a wanderer with a capital "A" for "Always searching"
But You don't mind
You never let me wander alone
It's dangerous out there with broken streetlights
judgement hidden in cracks, broken glass
You leave the 99 and take a walk with me so I can clear my mind
Sometimes it takes all night and we greet the Sun with tired knees and course voices
And You tuck me into a bed of grace saying "Goodnight my wanderer"
Lately I've been trying to sneak You into the pockets of strangers
Hoping that compassion could be contagious
It's easy to think that I am doing nothing by giving away smiles and yellow flowers
But You are doing big things in me
If only I could borrow Your eyes for a moment
so that I could look at people the way they need to be seen
Just a glimpse from You and they would know
Know that you love them from their split ends to their elbows to their baby toes
Know that you love them for their past and their present and all they are going to be
If only I wasn't so easily distracted
so consistently egocentric
Wrapped up in my own planned out plans
Staring at my hands not wanting to get them dirty
If only I was able to trust in you as I trust that the ground below my feet will always hold me up
And that the sky above my head will always stay there
If only my default mode wasn't "maybe some other time"
If only I fully understood how it could be that I am Yours and You are mine
And still You love my "If only"s
After all, You wrote my story
And even on days where I feel like I am defined by misjudgment and mistakes
When I let my own self get in the way
You sit by my side and let me catch my breath
Reminding me that this isn't the end, this isn't where I'm meant to be
apart from Your joy, apart from Your glory
Like a little child in the backseat I keep asking "Are we there yet?"
You taken my broken hallelujahs and call me by name
You write out thank you notes in the budding trees saying
"See, I told you winter wouldn't last forever"
I am a wanderer with a capital "A" for "Always searching"
But You don't mind
You never let me wander alone
It's dangerous out there with broken streetlights
judgement hidden in cracks, broken glass
You leave the 99 and take a walk with me so I can clear my mind
Sometimes it takes all night and we greet the Sun with tired knees and course voices
And You tuck me into a bed of grace saying "Goodnight my wanderer"
Lately I've been trying to sneak You into the pockets of strangers
Hoping that compassion could be contagious
It's easy to think that I am doing nothing by giving away smiles and yellow flowers
But You are doing big things in me
If only I could borrow Your eyes for a moment
so that I could look at people the way they need to be seen
Just a glimpse from You and they would know
Know that you love them from their split ends to their elbows to their baby toes
Know that you love them for their past and their present and all they are going to be
If only I wasn't so easily distracted
so consistently egocentric
Wrapped up in my own planned out plans
Staring at my hands not wanting to get them dirty
If only I was able to trust in you as I trust that the ground below my feet will always hold me up
And that the sky above my head will always stay there
If only my default mode wasn't "maybe some other time"
If only I fully understood how it could be that I am Yours and You are mine
And still You love my "If only"s
After all, You wrote my story
And even on days where I feel like I am defined by misjudgment and mistakes
When I let my own self get in the way
You sit by my side and let me catch my breath
Reminding me that this isn't the end, this isn't where I'm meant to be
apart from Your joy, apart from Your glory
Like a little child in the backseat I keep asking "Are we there yet?"
You taken my broken hallelujahs and call me by name
You write out thank you notes in the budding trees saying
"See, I told you winter wouldn't last forever"
Sunday, April 13, 2014
People Are Not Illegal
I don't
know when we decided that it was okay
to bind the wrists of others together
with caution tape
To place
warning signs on someone’s race
To make them
feel less than human
Less than
alive
This
world thrives on compromising people's worth for the sake of feeling unjustly
safe
Entanglements
of lies, how can we look into a child's eyes and deny them a future
Children
should not be born with statistics etched into their DNA
I am a
child who was born into privilege
Chances
are slim that I will ever be seen as a threat
I have
never been stopped and frisked on a city street
Or had my
level of intelligence determined from the way I speak
I have
never been unjustly accused of a crime and held behind bars even though my
ancestors fought merely decades ago for the very freedom I have been denied
That is
not me
But I can
plainly see the amount of brokenness that is upheld in this nation
We've
been looking for clarity through a shattered magnifying glass
that we
have named justice
Serving a
system that should be called illegal, not it's people
Lack of humanity has created an “us” and a “them” instead of a we
Lack of humanity has created an “us” and a “them” instead of a we
And yet I
follow a Savior who probably would have been named "illegal"
Would
Jesus have been able to get through airport security without being
"randomly searched"?
Would my
Lord have been welcomed even into the church
without
being looked at with a shred of suspicion
Our
mission shouldn't be to change just the way we act but the way we see
Asking
God to dilate our pupils so that we can let in more light
I've come
to the conclusion that our pointer fingers are a lot stronger than our feet
We love
to stand in light and point to darkness
We think
and talk and proclaim
Hoping
we'll inspire change
But we
rarely go and do
We point
to problems more often than we solve them
Even
though our feet are begging to march
To march
towards a day abounding with hope
Barriers
broken, voices heard
A day where
this messy kingdom is restored
People no
longer ignored as a number
Or branded
as illegal, caught up in vicious cycles
We march
toward a day where our feet will always empathize with the footsteps of our
brothers and sisters
A day where
everyone will be named with endless love
Monday, March 3, 2014
My "plans" for Lent
And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.
Colossians 3:17
I'm slowly realizing how quickly this year has flown by. How is it already almost Lent? Everything has been chaotically busy lately and this season definitely snuck up on me. With the bitter cold and never ending winter surrounding me it's hard to even think about spring, let alone the joyful celebration of Easter Sunday. Today I decided that for me, Lent isn't going to just be about giving something up in an effort to deny my own selfish wants. It's going to be a time where I become a little bit more aware of how I can give myself over to Christ in my day to day words and actions and prayers.
I like plans (understatement of the year). I am the biggest fan of lists and schedules. However the word "daily" makes me want to run in the other direction. I have never been able to keep up with a daily journal or a daily devotional or a daily discipline. So I'm trying not to think of my "goals" for Lent as daily plans but more as ways that I feel God is calling me to make some changes in my life
IN WORD:
I complain a lot and I've realized how absolutely awful I sound when I do. I have been showered with blessings and yet I constantly let my mouth whine about so many trivial things. I complain about people and places and classes when I should be expressing joy. Starting on Wednesday, every time I go to complain, I am going to express a positive spin on the situation instead.
IN DEED:
I, Hayley Sheaff, am addicted to Starbucks. And I hate it (oops, that's definitely a complaint). I find my feet walking there between classes before my mind can even comprehend where I'm going. Sure I have gift cards and it can be a good place to study, but other times it is a total waste of money. Starting on Wednesday, instead of going to Starbucks, I am going to make myself a cup of tea in my room and keep a little more money in my bank account.
IN PRAYER:
I have become completely immune to the sounds of sirens in Chicago. It doesn't even phase me when a police car or ambulance or firetruck whizzes by or even when I can hear faint traces of them in the distance. Each one should serve as a reminder that this world is hurting and in need of healing. Starting on Wednesday, I am going to pray for the situation at hand whenever I hear a siren, hoping that God can provide peace and safety to anyone involved.
Here's to a Lenten season of change that will hopefully continue on into a year of new, better habits.
-Hayley
Thursday, February 27, 2014
A Letter to my Mama
It can only make sense to begin with thanks
Thank you for letting my spirit run loose
For never tying me down to ideals
For letting my imaginary friends sit in the backseat and at the dinner table
For letting me sing you songs that I scribbled on notebook paper
that never really had rhyme or reason or even a logical melody
And still you listened
You have always listened
Thank you for reading me books that stretched my mind
For always giving me the space and time to create, think, and get mad
You have taught me that it's okay to get angry with the things I see
and more importantly the things I don't see
That this world is far from perfection but so am I
That there is always something new that I could be striving towards
even if I have to stand on a step stool to reach it
You taught me that it's okay to rely on someone else
That asking for help is not something to be ashamed of
And I should always be looking for new people that can etch encouragement into my heart
Thank for you for giving me inconceivable grace
For always finding a new way to sneak love into my pockets when I wasn't looking
For letting me fall on concrete but always being there to patch me up
I think some of my worst injuries came from rejection and heartache and broken trust
but you always have had the right sized band aids to cover them all up
You have taught me that wounds don't heal over night, and sometimes it will feel like they haven't healed at all
Thank you for reminding me to stop picking at my scabs and to just give them time
Thank you for showing me the way toward a Savior who fills in the gaps of your human mistakes
For guiding my little feet down a path that led to a loving Christ
Thank you for refusing to buy me velcro sneakers no matter how much I begged
You always said that I had to learn how to tie my shoes first
Thank you for never giving me an easy way out
For pushing me to sing louder and love bigger
And never letting me settle with the things that came easily
Thank you for standing up for me on your Mama soapbox
Yelling on street corners, always fighting to make sure I was given a fair chance
When I felt like my own voice was silenced by circumstance
There you were with your megaphone and your determination
Always doing your best to make sure that the world never got the best of me
And on the days when I felt like a crumpled piece of paper tossed aside by everyone else
You spread out the wrinkles and taped me to the front of the refrigerator
Proud of all of me, my mistakes and triumphs and silly tendencies
You have loved me through my darkest days and my most beautiful celebrations
It can only make sense to end with thanks
Thursday, February 13, 2014
I don't mind if chivalry is dead...
...as long as common curtesy has replaced it.
Recently I've read several articles online that give men simple ways to bring back chivalry. They include all of the common cliches of holding the door, pulling out a woman's chair, giving up their seat on public transportation, and complimenting women up and down. And my favorite part is always when, in an effort to not appear sexist, the author says "men (and women)." It's new to me that we need parentheses around the female gender, almost as if women are an afterthought.
I don't expect men to hold the door for me or pull out my chair for me at dinner. Would I appreciate it? Of course, who wouldn't? But my appreciation isn't dependent on the gender of the person, it comes from the fact that kind gestures are rapidly fleeing from our fast paced, multi tasking, American society. I do not think that the number of X chromosomes a person has should dictate the level of politeness they need to express. I think our focus needs to shift away from chivalry and knights in shining armor and toward a universal expression of compassion and simple thoughtfulness. The term "chivalry" puts an unnecessary amount of pressure on males to uphold the hierarchy put in place not by Creation but by the Fall.
If I am called to be on equal footing with a male then he should not need to walk on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street or drop me off first when there isn't any close parking or it's raining. If I decide to wear heels in the rain and snow then it's my own fault. I've also recently read countless anti-feminist rants that say "well if men and women were equal we'd have co-ed bathrooms" or "well if men and women were equal then men should be able to hit women back." I am not a feminist, I am a human and a follower of Christ. Quite frankly, I don't think anyone should be hitting anyone and yes I am aware of the blatant differences between men and women. Being equal does not mean ignoring these differences but mutually loving and respecting each other because of our differences.
I do not need a man to give up his seat for me on the bus. My legs are just as equipped for standing as his are. However, if I was bogged down with grocery bags or if I was injured, it'd be great to have someone give up their seat- male or female. The call to be loving and selfless isn't gender exclusive. I think that we need to start viewing acts of kindness as a natural form of respect and stop viewing them as an obligation to advance our own agenda to appear a certain way.
Recently I've read several articles online that give men simple ways to bring back chivalry. They include all of the common cliches of holding the door, pulling out a woman's chair, giving up their seat on public transportation, and complimenting women up and down. And my favorite part is always when, in an effort to not appear sexist, the author says "men (and women)." It's new to me that we need parentheses around the female gender, almost as if women are an afterthought.
I don't expect men to hold the door for me or pull out my chair for me at dinner. Would I appreciate it? Of course, who wouldn't? But my appreciation isn't dependent on the gender of the person, it comes from the fact that kind gestures are rapidly fleeing from our fast paced, multi tasking, American society. I do not think that the number of X chromosomes a person has should dictate the level of politeness they need to express. I think our focus needs to shift away from chivalry and knights in shining armor and toward a universal expression of compassion and simple thoughtfulness. The term "chivalry" puts an unnecessary amount of pressure on males to uphold the hierarchy put in place not by Creation but by the Fall.
If I am called to be on equal footing with a male then he should not need to walk on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street or drop me off first when there isn't any close parking or it's raining. If I decide to wear heels in the rain and snow then it's my own fault. I've also recently read countless anti-feminist rants that say "well if men and women were equal we'd have co-ed bathrooms" or "well if men and women were equal then men should be able to hit women back." I am not a feminist, I am a human and a follower of Christ. Quite frankly, I don't think anyone should be hitting anyone and yes I am aware of the blatant differences between men and women. Being equal does not mean ignoring these differences but mutually loving and respecting each other because of our differences.
I do not need a man to give up his seat for me on the bus. My legs are just as equipped for standing as his are. However, if I was bogged down with grocery bags or if I was injured, it'd be great to have someone give up their seat- male or female. The call to be loving and selfless isn't gender exclusive. I think that we need to start viewing acts of kindness as a natural form of respect and stop viewing them as an obligation to advance our own agenda to appear a certain way.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Beautiful Creation
I do not think that we were ever meant to be chained
Or that the beats of hearts were meant to be suffocated by loud voices, calloused hands
How can anyone look at a child and see anything besides endless dreams?
How can anyone look at a body and see it as a price
a good, merchandise
We live in a marketplace of dehumanization
Immune to the to the plague of self deprecation
that has stemmed from generations hearing the words
"You are not enough"
Windows that do not offer a view into a vast future
but act as a barrier of love
People that do not offer a way out
but have feet that jump to conclusions and eyes that judge
Somehow the glass like a funhouse mirror twisting reality
Evil does not always roll in on clouds of smoke and fire
But rather it seeps in on hands placed on bodies and limits placed on lives
Chains needing to not just be broken, but removed completely
Replaced with the words "You are loved"
I can't help but think that this is so far
from all He intended our Garden to be
How can trust become a tool of manipulation?
A welcoming hug transformed into suffocation
Girls led to believe that all they will ever be is a behind doors strip tease
As their pride and self worth is stripped away with their clothing and heels
Mother and Father holding their daughter's hand and walking her into
a lifetime of selling herself to put food on the table
The only hope that is left is not held in the hands that grab or control
No it is the Hands that were driven into a tree
A Savior who sees past the stains and misuse
An era of hurt and abuse
And paints them the way they were planned out to be
Purely pure, a vision of joy, completely restored
Voices returned to the mouths of the oppressed
Given the chance to tell their story not as a fictional character or a statistic
but as a face, a name, a beautiful creation
Echoing the Creator in ever fiber of their being
So that someday they can truly say "I am loved"
Or that the beats of hearts were meant to be suffocated by loud voices, calloused hands
How can anyone look at a child and see anything besides endless dreams?
How can anyone look at a body and see it as a price
a good, merchandise
We live in a marketplace of dehumanization
Immune to the to the plague of self deprecation
that has stemmed from generations hearing the words
"You are not enough"
Windows that do not offer a view into a vast future
but act as a barrier of love
People that do not offer a way out
but have feet that jump to conclusions and eyes that judge
Somehow the glass like a funhouse mirror twisting reality
Evil does not always roll in on clouds of smoke and fire
But rather it seeps in on hands placed on bodies and limits placed on lives
Chains needing to not just be broken, but removed completely
Replaced with the words "You are loved"
I can't help but think that this is so far
from all He intended our Garden to be
How can trust become a tool of manipulation?
A welcoming hug transformed into suffocation
Girls led to believe that all they will ever be is a behind doors strip tease
As their pride and self worth is stripped away with their clothing and heels
Mother and Father holding their daughter's hand and walking her into
a lifetime of selling herself to put food on the table
The only hope that is left is not held in the hands that grab or control
No it is the Hands that were driven into a tree
A Savior who sees past the stains and misuse
An era of hurt and abuse
And paints them the way they were planned out to be
Purely pure, a vision of joy, completely restored
Voices returned to the mouths of the oppressed
Given the chance to tell their story not as a fictional character or a statistic
but as a face, a name, a beautiful creation
Echoing the Creator in ever fiber of their being
So that someday they can truly say "I am loved"
Saturday, January 25, 2014
Tracking in Dirt
I used to think that I needed to give myself the grace to be young
But I'm slowly realizing that I need to give myself the grace to be human
I am allowed to have scraped knees
from falling in love with the ways of this world
And chapped lips from speaking words of disdain
I do not serve a God of bandaids and lip balm
but a God of 2nd and 5th and 27th chances
I've always been my own worst critic
and in some ways that's kept me humble
But it also has become an infinite checklist of errors
etched into handheld mirrors
Only seeing imperfection where my Creator stitched creation into my skin
Wonderfully and fearfully made
I think I've always feared letting people down
Pretending that the spaces between my fingers were nets
made to catch people's expectations
He's got the whole world in His hands
But I certainly do not
You wouldn't think that walking on eggshells is painful
or plucking off flower petals is dangerous
or filling hourglasses with sand is mildly terrifying
But it is
I've spent far too long wishing away sand
I am learning to wait, to settle into joy
Because all I've ever been shown of forever are promises like windows
Seeming so clear but suddenly shattered by baseballs and a change of heart
And yet You tell me that I am Yours forever
A child of wishing well love
Washed clean by buckets and buckets of grace
I am allowed to be caged in by my own misconceptions
To track in dirt from the places I've walked home from
To hide under my covers until my cheeks are red and my heart is heavy
You did not come to cover up my stories
You came to save all the almosts and should-have-beens
I am allowed to always be running after an answer, an alleluia, an Amen
But I'm slowly realizing that I need to give myself the grace to be human
I am allowed to have scraped knees
from falling in love with the ways of this world
And chapped lips from speaking words of disdain
I do not serve a God of bandaids and lip balm
but a God of 2nd and 5th and 27th chances
I've always been my own worst critic
and in some ways that's kept me humble
But it also has become an infinite checklist of errors
etched into handheld mirrors
Only seeing imperfection where my Creator stitched creation into my skin
Wonderfully and fearfully made
I think I've always feared letting people down
Pretending that the spaces between my fingers were nets
made to catch people's expectations
He's got the whole world in His hands
But I certainly do not
You wouldn't think that walking on eggshells is painful
or plucking off flower petals is dangerous
or filling hourglasses with sand is mildly terrifying
But it is
I've spent far too long wishing away sand
I am learning to wait, to settle into joy
Because all I've ever been shown of forever are promises like windows
Seeming so clear but suddenly shattered by baseballs and a change of heart
And yet You tell me that I am Yours forever
A child of wishing well love
Washed clean by buckets and buckets of grace
I am allowed to be caged in by my own misconceptions
To track in dirt from the places I've walked home from
To hide under my covers until my cheeks are red and my heart is heavy
You did not come to cover up my stories
You came to save all the almosts and should-have-beens
I am allowed to always be running after an answer, an alleluia, an Amen
Monday, January 6, 2014
Messy Restoration
Breaking bread and breaking chains
Your fingerprints are even more visible amongst the dirt and the grime
Your name alone washes away and wipes clean
Even in the darkest of corners, forgotten nooks and
seemingly hidden spaces that everyone else ignores
Spiderwebs that linger even after the spiders are gone
And yet we're afraid because we know the past and we can't see the future
Barriers meant to protect and yet all they do is hold in
creating reliance and necessity amongst the depravity
Drink this cup and eat this bread
Grape juice on lips offered from tiny plastic cups
And wafers engraved with the cross
Something tells me that Christ's death was not this neat
He was not cleanly set on a table, passed around for church goers to easily hold Him
between finger and thumb
I've never been good with blood, with the insides
My Shepherd's blood spilt for a nation
would I have watched or shut my eyes?
It's hard to follow with your eyelids closed keeping you blind
but I think I've come to see that we don't usually see through our eyes
But through our hearts and mind
All things messy and yet all things restored
Somehow still we'd rather give up than give in, cave in, fall in
when we're called to fall in love morning by morning
with Love itself
Grace like dish soap fighting the toughest stains
We decide that our plates are too dirty so we never even bring them to the table
But my Creator created me insides and all
Grace abounding, Love amazing
He knows I'll always be running, chasing
Coming to the table with a messy plate time and time again
His eyes like magnifying glasses not made to examine but to reveal
Because examinations seek to uncover everything and anything that is wrong
But we have a Redeemer who seeks revelation in our hearts
Your fingerprints are even more visible amongst the dirt and the grime
Your name alone washes away and wipes clean
Even in the darkest of corners, forgotten nooks and
seemingly hidden spaces that everyone else ignores
Spiderwebs that linger even after the spiders are gone
And yet we're afraid because we know the past and we can't see the future
Barriers meant to protect and yet all they do is hold in
creating reliance and necessity amongst the depravity
Drink this cup and eat this bread
Grape juice on lips offered from tiny plastic cups
And wafers engraved with the cross
Something tells me that Christ's death was not this neat
He was not cleanly set on a table, passed around for church goers to easily hold Him
between finger and thumb
I've never been good with blood, with the insides
My Shepherd's blood spilt for a nation
would I have watched or shut my eyes?
It's hard to follow with your eyelids closed keeping you blind
but I think I've come to see that we don't usually see through our eyes
But through our hearts and mind
All things messy and yet all things restored
Somehow still we'd rather give up than give in, cave in, fall in
when we're called to fall in love morning by morning
with Love itself
Grace like dish soap fighting the toughest stains
We decide that our plates are too dirty so we never even bring them to the table
But my Creator created me insides and all
Grace abounding, Love amazing
He knows I'll always be running, chasing
Coming to the table with a messy plate time and time again
His eyes like magnifying glasses not made to examine but to reveal
Because examinations seek to uncover everything and anything that is wrong
But we have a Redeemer who seeks revelation in our hearts
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