on racism, justice, and the terrible way we handle controversy.

My blog post for this week was originally going to be about soap, but I've decided to save that one for another week. Instead I want to talk about something much more controversial. So hold on just a moment while I get out my soap box.

Alright here we go. I want to talk about the shooting of Michael Brown. Rather than give my opinion on the case however, I'd like to give my opinion on opinions, because I've got some serious beef with the way people approach these types of incidents in the news, in casual conversation, and on social media. Everyone has something to say about it. It's how we say it that really irks me.

You see my problem is that we're so busy trying to be right that we don't ever take time to be human. I am so sick and tired of hearing cries of racism or little comments like "well he had it coming, just look what he did". I don't care what your opinion of the incident is. For God's sake, can we just get a little sympathy? And I mean that how i said it. For God's sake. As in, if we claim to be followers of Christ, can we represent Him in a way that is true to His nature? Can we take two seconds to realize that regardless of the circumstances, regardless of why and regardless of how, a person died. A human was killed. Lecrae said it well in a recent facebook post:

"If I tell you my brother got killed in a gang war, would you tell me 'That's what he gets! Shouldn't be gang bangin!' Of course not. As a Christian I see Jesus empathize with the MOST undeserving people ever. He offers a thief on the cross a home in Paradise. He dies for a rioting mob of angry killers. He looks upon a sinful world with compassion. And here we stand saying we believe that and all the while unfazed at the pain of a community".

I'm not saying the officer wasn't justified in what he did. I'm also not saying he was. That's not for me to decide. I know very little of what happened, and what I do know has been filtered through the bias of others who also know little of what really happened. It is, however, painfully apparent that among the arguing, the rioting, the hate, the racism, the defending and offending, there seems to be no love. No sympathy. No caring. Especially from those of us so far removed from the situation that we can post about it on facebook, and move on, never stopping to really dedicate anything other than passive outrage toward what goes on outside our own lives.
Now let me stop for a moment and be clear about what I am not saying. I am not saying it is a useless conversation. I am not saying we should ignore it. I am not saying that we should bury our heads in the sand and just let what happens happen. But that's not what this discussion is about.

So instead I have a proposition.

I propose we all set down our torches and pitchforks. Lets stop arguing over social media, stop pretending we have all the facts, and stop pretending we have the right to condemn either party from the far off points of view that the majority of us stand from. Let's spend a little less time debating over social media and a little more time praying for those who were and still are impacted by this tragedy.

Let's just love a little. For God's sake.

on hitchhiking.

        I have a hard time explaining why I wanted to hitchhike. People are always asking me and the best I can do is give them the simple reasons. It's free. I like meeting people. I like traveling. I like not having a job. And that's all true, but there is more to it than that.
I had a conversation several years back with a friend of mine about how American culture seems to lack a "coming of age" recognition or transition. Many cultures have strange or dangerous rituals, big events or some equivalent landmark period in a persons life that marks the end of childhood and the start of the rest of their lives. In America we finish high school, move on to college, get married, get a job, have a family, and at some point look back and realize that life happened to us. We might point to high school graduation and say "that's what made me an adult". Or perhaps we'll let the government tell we're all grown up when we turn 18. But where is the struggle? Where is the maturity? Where is the risk and danger? At what point were we really forced to grow up in order to move on in life?
And that is the real reason I do what I do. Yes I like to travel, yes I like to meet people, and yes, I really like not having a job. But the real reward is in being forced to deal with life. It's about learning that life is hard. It's about finding a little perspective in the difficult moments and then moving past them. It's about growing up. The times when you have no choice but to deal with life. When you go to a different country, its 1:00 in the morning, all public transport is shut down for the night, you are over 30 miles from your house and you have no choice but to stick out your thumb and hope for the best. And yes that actually happened to me and it's an experience I wouldn't trade for the world.

But anywho, without further adieu, here's my recent hitchhiking experience from beginning to end.

My initial plan was to make my way from Lincoln, Nebraska, south to Texas, West to the Grand Canyon, then back North to the windy state of Wyoming that I call home. On Thursday November 13th I had a friend of mine drop me of on the side of Hwy 77 in the cold wind and stuck my thumb out towards on coming traffic.
After about an hour on the side of that highway a middle aged man from Minnesota named Ralph (at the time he told me his name was Jim) pulled over and told me to thrown my bag in the back of his pickup. I obliged and quickly climbed into the cabin, eagerly pressing my frozen hands against the vents in an attempt to thaw them out. We chatted off and on for a couple hours and eventually arrived in Manhattan, Kansas where he dropped me off at a shopping mall and wished me the best. I thanked him once more for helping me out and ventured into the mall to find a T-mobile store and get myself a new phone. It was there that I had my first negative experience as a hitchhiker.
While wandering around the mall searching for the T-Mobile store, I was confronted by a mall cop. I say "confronted" but there was actually very little confrontation. I noticed him staring at me as I walked past so I gave him a small wave. His response was to continue staring and sternly say

"Just passing through, right?"

I put a question mark there, but he wasn't really asking. Obviously I was a little taken back so I stopped and gave him a confused look.

"I'm sorry?" I asked

"You're just passing through, right?" He responded, a tad more sternly this time.

"Yes sir, eventually" I said, then continued walking still not understanding what his problem with me was.

Upon finding the T-Mobile store, which turned out to be a T-Mobile kiosk, I sat my bag down and waited for the man working there to be available. After a few minutes he walked over and asked what I needed. I explained that my phone had broken and I was looking to replace it with the cheapest one he could sell me on the spot. His response, and this is verbatim, was this:

"Well I'm not going to have anything here within your budget"

What? Are you kidding me? I hadn't even had a chance to tell him what my budget was! Thoroughly irritated, I simply pointed to a phone that I had already identified as the cheapest one on display and told him to give me that one. He did, and within five minutes I was up and running on a brand new phone. I thanked him and walked down to the food court. On my way there I encountered none other but the grumpy old mall cop. Not only had he been following me, but he was making absolutely no effort to hide it! Seriously! So in a small act of protest I took a seat in the food court and stayed there until the mall closed an hour later.
From the mall I walked out to the highway and made my way to the nearest bridge. I clambered up the sloped edge near the sidewalk and set up for the night on the flat part at the top. At this point the temperature was well below freezing, but I was nice and comfortable in my sleeping bag, which was rated down to 10 degrees. Unfortunately after sleeping for about 4 hours, the temperature dropped below 10 degrees and I woke up shivering. Remembering that there was a 24 hour Denny's down the street, I picked up my things and headed that way.
Walking into Denny's, I was greeted by a very tired-looking server who asked me what she could do for me. I explained to her that I had no money and just needed a place to warm up. She understood and invited me to come in and sit. She even gave me a hot chocolate free of charge. At some point I dozed off and about an hour later that same server woke me up and informed me that "this isn't a hotel" and it was time for me to leave. I picked up my things and headed back out on the road.
The cold weather had made me second guess the duration of my trip, and so I made the decision to turn west towards Colorado. Using my phone for a map, I determined the direction I needed to go and hopped from gas station to gas station in an attempt to keep warm. Eventually I found myself on the edge of the highway once more. Along the way I had picked up a small piece of cardboard to make a sign in hopes that a little message might reduce the number of people yelling at me and giving me not so friendly hand gestures. Here is what I came up with:

So with my new sign and a whole day ahead of me I stuck my thumb out once more, but to no avail. After almost an hour and a half of no success, a police car finally pulled up near me and two officers got out. As I waited for them to approach me I thought to myself, this is just perfect. Now these two are gonna waste my time harassing me for something that is perfectly legal, and keep me from getting any of the rides that I so desperately needed. Instead the two officers asked me what I was doing on the side of the road. The conversation went something like this:

"Is there a problem officers?" I asked as they approached.

"What are you doin out here son?"

"I'm hitchhiking" I said, trying to keep the attitude out of my voice.

"Where you headed?" One of them asked pulling out a notepad.

"Colorado Springs eventually"

"You mind if I get your name and date of birth?" The officer asked

"Yeah sure" I said, and gave her the info. She talked into her radio for a minute then asked me if I had eaten today. I told her I hadn't and the two officers glanced at each other then turned back to me.

"Looks like it's your lucky day. We just got back from the park where we saw a guy sleeping under a tarp last night, but this morning he was gone so it looks like you're gonna get a free breakfast. Heck I'll even give you a ride out to the interstate, you're not gonna get anywhere standing here".

I had no words. The officer walked back to her car, pulled our a McDonalds back and a big steaming cup of coffee and handed them to me then helped me load my bag into the back seat and we set off. The next 15 miles were traveled in silence as I furiously scarfed down my breakfast and sipped on the coffee, grateful for the caffeine.
When we arrived at the interstate I got back out of the car, set my bag near the side of the road and thanked the officer once more. She wished me luck, told me to be safe, and then drove off, leaving me to my business. Needless to say I was in a great mood by this time, and the friendly waves and laughs of the passengers who drove by and read my sign were enough to keep me in that mood.
Roughly an hour later another police officer pulled up next to me. This time I was much less irritated with the delay and greeted him with a friendly "good morning officer" as he walked up. He politely asked me where I was headed and if he could see my ID. I gave it to him and explained my travels to him. While we were talking, a woman in a small tan Audi pulled up next to us and walked over. The officer, who was about to offer me a ride to the next town over, informed the woman that I wasn't wanted for anything and that we should both be safe. He then drove off and left us to talk.
The woman, who told me her name was Martha, asked me where I was headed. I explained that my end goal was Colorado Springs, but that I know it was an 7 hour drive to get there so I was just trying to get as far West as she could take me. Martha then informed me that she was headed home, to Colorado Springs, and would be happy to let me tag along. Seven hours and many conversations later I found myself standing on my Dad's front doorstep, waving goodbye to a new friend.
Call me crazy or call me dumb (you wouldn't be the only one) but that day and a half of traveling and living off others kindness is an experience of infinite value to me. Although I only accepted three rides in a day and a half, I met numerous kind hearted people whose only concern was for my safety. It was encouraging and refreshing, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Provided the weather warms up at least...

on rediscovering the familiar.

       I believe everybody has questions. It's a topic I've discussed numerous times before, but we all have things we wish we understood better. And more often than not our questions are very similar, if not the same. This is why one of the most important things we can do for each other is to create environments in which these questions can be explored.

Maranatha Bible Camp is one such environment. During one of their summer camps for junior high kids they create one of the most useful tools I have ever seen. It's been named "sync" and its a time when campers are allowed to anonymously submit questions that will be answered by a group of three men and three women. I was skeptical the first time I saw it in action, but that skepticism faded very quickly. Questions are submitted that you would never have thought a junior high kid was capable of coming up with. It's an amazing experience and I love it with all my heart.

But if we're being honest, one of the big reasons I love it so much is that it's even been very useful for me. In fact I dare say it is for everybody. Initially I went in planning to sit and listen while my campers had their questions answered. By the end I could be seen furiously scribbling in my notebook as I attempted to keep up with the words of the six people on stage. The questions submitted are from campers who want serious, truthful answers that are not watered down or simplified. And that's what they get. They are met on a theological level with replies that are serious, mature, and truthful. They are never treated as if they couldn't possibly understand and they are not given the simple story-book versions of what the bible says. It's refreshing.

For the most part the scribblings in my notebook reflect topics that I can use later to start conversations with my kids, or a different perspective on something that I had already been talking to them about. But this last year I had a "wow" moment. It's one of those times when a truth just hit me out of the blue, answering a question that I have had for years. Honestly I didn't even know I had the question, if it can even be called that. In fact my "wow" moment was entirely unrelated to what the person speaking was even talking about. It came as a result of a small, offhand comment that he made. In talking about why bad things happen and why this world seems to be devastatingly destructive and evil, he was addressing our inability to take control of a situation. His comment, which I am heavily paraphrasing, was something like this:

      "We are incapable of doing it alone because we are only here, and we are only now. We are trapped within our circumstances. God is not. He created here and he created now, but he is not trapped in the here or the now he just..........is. And we can rest in the God who simply is."

The story of Moses is one that I have heard many times over, and it is not one that I have ever failed to understand. But God's words at the burning bush have never struck me as awe inspiring. "I Am" is a factually significant name. A theologically useful definition of God, and that's how I have always thought of it. But in hearing the speaker's words in Sync that day, something just brought me right back to that story. There was no sudden understanding, or an earth shattering epiphany. I simply was struck by the beauty of those words, for the first time, and the statement that God is making to moses when He says "I Am":

 "We can rest in the God who simply is".

Wow. 

on common humanity.

       As my time in Spain draws to a close, a number of things have occupied my thoughts. The first is that I really have no idea what I'm doing with my life. That's a given, and to be honest I think it's perfectly fine. Some will agree with that and some won't but that's neither here nor there. The second is that despite having spent three months on a different continent, I still feel remarkably at home.
That's not to say I haven't at all felt uncomfortable, because I most definitely have. Instead, what I mean is that there really is no significant difference (in my very limited experience at least) in who people really are at their core. People still desire love, companionship, joy, and purpose. Everyone here is consistently chasing these things just as Americans do, and the effects of a sinful world are just as evident in Europe as in the United States. People, regardless of where they may live, will struggle with their humanity and their search for purpose.
During my time in Spain I was given the opportunity to share the gospel with one of the two boys that I live with. Needless to say it was a difficult conversation. His name is Carlos and he is 12 years old. While he does speak English, he is not fluent and conversations with him are often difficult and require copious amounts of patient communication, something I often find myself lacking. Delving into the divine did nothing but amplify this problem. It started off with a simple question:

"Do you believe in God?"

That's it. His response (after about 5 minutes of trying to explain what I had said) was not what I expected. Catholicism is the dominant faith in Spain and I had expected his response to reflect that. It did not. Instead, Carlos began to tell me about how he really doesn't know. He explained that while he had grown up in the catholic church (I'm paraphrasing here, for simplicity's sake), he also was being taught in school about "the large explode" (big bang) and how God did not create the world. When I asked him what he knew about the bible and Jesus Christ he told me he and his family have never had a bible, and that Jesus Christ was "very important, but I don't know why".
He went on to tell me that he knows he does bad things some times and he is scared of "El Infierno". I explained to him how we are all guilty of doing bad things, but that there is hope. After talking him through the gospel (of which he likely understood half) I asked him what he thought. His response was this:

"I don't know"

"What do you not know?"

"I don't know if Jesus is true"

       There is a tad more to that story and if anyone is interested I'd be happy to share it. But that's the jist of it. As difficult and strange as the conversation was, it is nothing new. As a cabin leader for young kids in the US I have encountered numerous situations like this one, wherein a person simply seems lost and overwhelmed. It seems to be less of a cultural trend and more of a human trait. Which says much more about humanity than I am comfortable with.