Beautiful Scars

What does a breaking heart sound like? And what does it actually feel like for a tear to be shed? And if Jesus is closest to us when we are in the center of our deepest pain, then why doesn't He save us from it? If He is right there? Because He is. Right there. Right beside of us. 

"I am going to tell you the most important part of your handkerchief drawing now. The most important part is drawing God in the middle of your heartache. Drawing Him beside of you when you were crying your sad tears. Even if you didn't feel Him - He was there" 

I look into their eyes and I wonder what they have seen. I watch the markers in their hands, and I know if their hands could tell stories they would be of bloodshed. 


If their scars could speak they would scream.

 

But they don't scream at all. They stand. Boldly. As if to say.... I am here. As much a part of my world as your comfort is to yours. I see these young men now, and I can't fathom it. What they have been through. but I must. I must do more than fathon it. I must know it to be true. 


Before my eyes, I see dancing and rejoicing. Before my eyes, I see life and redemption. They beat their drums and they clap their hands. Watching boys who were once child soldiers praying fervently and washing softly the feet of their brothers who have recently escaped the militia. This ceremony of peace is beautiful. And they don't even know each other.  Asking their names before they wash each others feet. Each one. But they don't have to know each other. They are already brothers. The bond of Life that is connecting them now is much stronger than the Killing they have done. The Peace surrounding them today is bigger than the War they have lived through.

I see them wash each others feet. I can feel their prayers for each other. I hear the songs of reconciliation. I touch the new found love of God and dreams to be future peacemakers - and I am in awe of them. If the world could watch this.....What could we learn?

My mind goes back to our time with the girls. 

"When God looks at you He does not see what you have done. He does not see what has been done to you. He only sees what you can be. What you will be. He sees you as beautiful" 

I watch her as I say these words outloud. She is 13. She was abducted when she was around 11. She was raped by militia soldiers. She became pregnant and months later she escaped with her baby.  The baby she now holds as I watch her lift her shirt to breast feed. But she has no milk. It has dried up long ago. She doesn't offer herself to the child for food. She offers herself to her baby for comfort. It's the only way she knows to sooth the baby from crying because no one has taught her otherwise. 

She escaped with her baby at the age of 12, and she walked for two days trying to find her home. She never found it. She was picked up in Goma and taken to the center. Where she still lives. With her baby. Her only family now. I catch her eye, and she smiles at me. A million dollar beaming smile. She looks down at her baby and the love on her face is the love of Jesus. A mother of 13 in love with her baby girl. 

And my heart breaks. Silently. And my spirit swells. Loudly. Because I am witnessing a miracle. I am witnessing pure love. 

I often stand before these children.... these young men and young women feeling like a tiny child who needs to be taught rather than to teach. One who needs to be mended rather than to mend. 

How does one find sense in it all? By this: Realizing there is good and evil. Light and darkness. Suffering as small as pebbles or as large as erupting volcanos. 


But the Richness comes in the Reflection of Pain 

"....suffering arises from the simple circumstance of life itself. Sometimes human suffering is dramatic and horrifying. More often it is ordinary, humble, and quiet. But neither way is it "God's Will". The Divine doesn't intend for us to suffer, but is instead with us in all the experiences of life - in both Suffering and Joy. And that presence is always inviting us toward greater Freedom and Love." ~ Gerald May "The Dark Night of the Soul 


Throughout this journey into the dark places of the world, I have realized that by not saving us from pain.... Jesus is actually extending the greatest kindness. It is by not rescuing us that He is actually saying:

"I honor you. I want you to grow and live in Fullness more than I want you to be comfortable.  I want more for you because I love you too much to let you live in weakness. I believe in you too much to give up on you."

And wether the pain is the loss of a loved one or the loss of innocence - it is all a reminder of how imperfect our world is and how perfect is His love. How sweet is His grace. How soft His voice as He wispers to all of us "I do not see what you have done. I do not see what has been done to you. I only see what you can be. What you will be. I only see you as beautiful" 

If we gain strength from our scars then these children will hold the world on their shoulders. And I will be at their feet. 

They will change this nation and they can change this world.... if we would begin to see them. Hear them. Learn from them. Believe in them. 

___________________________

Lord,

Thank you. For allowing us to see light in the middle of darkness. For helping us to see hear how beautiful heartbreak can be. To understand that the shedding of tears results in new life and new beginnings. Shed me, Father. Shed my old so that I can live in newness. And bless these children. Bless them. Lord. Put within their hearts a stirring for peace. A peace that passes the understanding of the world they live in. I passionately desire for them to show the world how you can turn mourning into dancing. Let the world see them dance. More importantly...... let the world learn how to dance from them. Fervently. In Freedom and Joy.

Dancing - I am 

Yours, b

The Simplicity of Madness: A film. A man. A warlord

“It is the moment we stop fighting for each other and start fighting with each other that we begin to loose our humanity”

I have been saddened. And elated. And angered. And inspired. And disappointed. And moved over the past week. A topic that has been dear to my heart and a warlord who I personally have felt to be fighting at times has been revealed to the world in a matter of days! We have the absolute honor of sitting with war-affected children and former child soldiers as we hear their stories of survival and provide trauma care to them. I have hidden much in my heart, but the events of the past few days have broken to the surface. I have listened for the voices that are currently experiencing these atrocities in DRC, Southern Sudan, and CAR. I have written dear friends in Uganda to hear their thoughts and opinions. I believe in listening and learning before acting. I believe in love. And I believe we have been distracted from our purpose.

Jason Russell is a friend. He and I spoke together at a symposium at the Hauge before the Thomas Lubunga trial. We talked about listening to those who we serve. We talked about dreaming of seeing Joseph Kony in the courtroom that Lubanga was sitting in. His love for his wife and family was evident, and his passion to help the communities affected by the LRA was obvious. I have seen the work of Invisible Children on the ground and the fruits of their programs. It started nine years ago for him, the pressures felt over the past few weeks have been tremendous, and I could be exactly where he is right now. And so could you. He is a man. He is breakable. He is fallible. So am I. So are you. But few of us would have sacrificed our lives for this cause as he has…. Though we all have many opinions.

Opinions that have lead us far away from the heart of the primary issue at hand.

One film. 100 million views. Thousands of thoughts. Hundreds of paths. And along the way….. we have gotten lost. We have been blinded and have started fighting each other in the dark.

“Can you tell me about your story? What is in your picture?” I asked

“The LRA, they…. they…. they made me watch as my mother was burned alive. Then they abducted me.”

Blinking back tears, I cradled her head close to me. She started sobbing. She did not stop for many minutes.

There is a heaviness that can break you. There is a calling that can bring you life. There are causes that can be fought together by those who walk in the same direction ….. learningfrom each other. Or they can be shredded by dissecting words and forcing agendas. But when we all walk a little closer together …. something beautiful can happen.

Mother Teresa tells a story of going to a large conference where hundreds of people were talking about food and hunger in Bombay. She got lost trying to find it. She finally found the conference and right in front of the door she found a dying man. She took him home, and he died. He died of hunger.

The past few weeks, I could not stop thinking of that. As I read tweets and articles and critiques and videos. As I read debates about movements and simple narratives… I thought about a Ugandan teacher in Sudan who I sat with in November. He had been in Yambio, Southern Sudan just a few months before that.

“The LRA. They are there. They are attacking. They tell the children to smile and if the children do not smile, they padlock their lips together. If they do smile, they will cut the edges of their mouths to their ears”

After we returned from Northern Uganda with 200 thank you letters to President Obama from children who survived the LRA violence. We came across a drawing. A drawing of a child whose lips were padlocked together. Above the picture were the words: “This is what Kony did.”

This is not about a film. This is not about a man. This is a about a warlord and the children whose hearts have been torn .

The film was a catalyst used to tell a bigger story. A story that has been happening for over 25 years. It is new to the world. But it is not new to Norbert or Barbara or Innocent. They have lived it. They have survived it.

And to go further, this is not just about Joseph Kony – this is about crimes against humanity. This is about fighting evil. Kony is one of many warlords and part of severe corruption in the world. Capturing him would send a message to many who are committing similar acts. We get to decide which side we stand on and how we choose to stand. We don’t all have to stand exactly the same. We can stand in different ways. With varying opinions.

But we should stand.

We are imperfect. I am imperfect. You are imperfect. There is no perfect means to tell a story. There are no perfect narratives for madness that has been going on for 26 years…. Especially one that is as complex as this one. One that has ventured into now four countries. Was the story told perfectly? Of course not. Could the narrative have been less simplistic? Sure. But, because it was told, 100 million people know of something most had never been aware of before. And, as a result - youth, middle aged, and even the elderly are ready to get involved in something bigger than they are to help their fellow man.

The past week, I have sat back and watched dear friends take very different sides on this issue. Friends I respect. Friends who have done much good in the world in their own way. I still respect them greatly. And I have heard people freely give opinions on subjects they know little about to prove a point. I have read arguments about which warlord should be getting more attention in the media. I have watched separate issues become blended into one.

How a story is told doesn’t change the fact that there is a story. And this story is not a story at all. It is reality.

And we should listen carefully to the children who have been victims of this reality. From the letters written by child survivors of the LRA:

Geoffrey wrote these words in his letter to President Obama,

“The LRA leader, Joseph Kony, told me to kill them but when I tried to refuse to kill them I was beaten 150 canes and they were to throw me in the fire and burn me alive…”

Or Isaac who wrote:

"What pains me the most in this war is the issue of cutting the neck of a fellow human being; cutting the legs, cutting off the arms and cutting the mouth. All these are inhuman activities and above all – the massive killing of innocent people”

or Francis:

“They made me to kill my two brothers and they made me to kill my sister”

or Bonny:

“I beg you as a president to give support so that this war should stop”

Or Morrish:

“… we are the children who need peace, looking for peace, with voices of peace. We are hopeful that there will be peace in Northern Uganda, Democratic Republic of Congo, and Central African Republic”

You see, it is not about me. It is not about you….. I would humbly like to tell you what this is about.

- This is about a boy in Uganda who is having nightmares at night because he can’t stop remembering being forced to kill his parents.

- This is about a girl who has a scar on her temple that was grazed by a bullet from the LRA. She cannot sleep at night.

- This is about a boy in Yambio, Southern Sudan who had his lips padlocked together by the LRA because he refused to smile.

This is about a warlord who was indicted in 2005 by the International Criminal Court for 12 counts of crimes against humanity including abducting, terrorizing, and “brainwashing” children to fight. Known for cutting the noses, lips, and ears off of their victims. A warlord who has walked way from multiple peace treaties and began these crimes against children and innocent civilians over 25 years ago. This is about the Lord’s Resistance Army who remain in DR Congo, South Sudan, and the CAR. Today.

I do not have all the answers, but I do know this:We must stop talking about a movement and Move. Our opinion about a film does not remove the fact that the man in the film is real. As real as the children he forced to kill

We are called to love our neighbor as our selves. Does our neighbor stop at our borders? Does a child in Dungu, Congo who is currently in the bush after being abducted by the LRA matter less than the child sleeping in your bed? And if he doesn’t – then what will you do?

What will you do?

You see the simplicity of madness is this:

There is good in the world. There is evil. There is light. There is darkness. There is hope. There is madness. And we all get to decide where to stand. And my bigger prayer is that we stand together. We may all do it a bit differently – and hopefully learn from each other in the process. That may be assisting in the rehabilitation of areas that have been affected or the children who have been traumatized. That may be through advocacy work by signing petitions or letters encouraging our government to continue its stand.

For us, we have deeply researched and been involved in the advocacy work of our friends at Resolve for the past 3 years. Without going into detail here, we ask you to read our friend Paul Ronan’sresponsewho is currently traveling in Central Africa with Resolve. The latest policy report is also on that blog and will answer in-depth questions.

To Jason and our friends at Invisible children, we are praying for you.

To the victims of the LRA violence - we honor you.

I often wonder: "What should we learn from those we feel we need to save?" My mind goes back to a time of sitting with a very special boy under the moonlight after our team had washed the feet of around 130 children who had survived the LRA violence as part of our workshop. My heart was open wide to him, and I asked him what he needed. I asked how I could pray for him. He is sick. He is broken. He is beautiful. He is one of the bravest boys I know. He has been forced to do things that our movie screens would not show. Forced to kill his parents in unspeakable ways. He looks down at the ground and up at the stars again and says one thing.

"Knowledge"

Lord, teach us.

- Bethany Haley

I am small

There is something beautiful about kneeling. The humility. The surrender. The vulnerability. It has become one of my favorite places to be. On my knees. Sometimes completely on my face. Hands extended. Just being there.

The past few weeks, I have been able to witness an elderly couple in church kneeling together. A developmentally delayed older gentlemen kneeling beside of me. Listening to his gentle prayer of thanks. As pure as a child's. Kneeling tonight in prayer at the Ash Wednesday service I thought.....

Who was the first? Who was the first person to do it? Was it commanded or did it come naturally? A instinctual falling from a place of desperation? An automatic buckling of the knees in a time of brokenness? Did it happen in the Garden? When Adam and Eve realized their humanity? When they grasped how small they were in the presence of God? When they realized their nakedness? Did they hide out of shame..... realizing their rebellion..... did they kneel? Were there tears? Did they place their hands together naturally out of an awe of their Creator and bow their heads without being asked or told to?

And did they look up when they heard Him?

"Where are you?"

When they heard the sound of the Lord walking in the garden.... when they hid themselves from the presence of the Lord.

Did they kneel?

And would we? Or would we stand before Him and defend our decisions and our rights and ask Him the answer to all of our theological questions of creation and salvation? Would we ask Him to draw for us the line in the sand so we could see just how close we could come to it.... or would we

Kneel and say

"I am small.... Will you save me?"

Lent. Websters Definition: The period of 40 weekdays that in the Christian Church is devoted to fasting, abstinence, and penitence leading up to the day of celebration of the resurrection of Jesus.

Or "A time for confronting our false self as we reflect on the part of our self that is least Christ-like and seek God's help in rededicating ourselves to God's purpose. Self denial and fasting to make ourselves more available to God.

Getting up from kneeling and moving to the station of the cross. I closed my eyes....

"From Dust you came and to Dust you shall return"

It's funny In our world of excuses and dreams of being bigger and climbing the next step to reach the next goal to stand on the next level..... Ashes don't seem to be so attractive. Neither does being small or broken or weak. But that is what today is all about.

Kneeling. Refining. A day of recognizing our humanity and the need for a graceful God. It's not about eating because we won't eat for a while. Or watching a marathon TV series because we are unplugging. It's about being broken in the bushes and falling and looking into the mirror and asking:

How can we be filled if we do not recognize our emptiness?

How can we be mended if we are afraid to show our scars?

How can we be whole if we cannot admit we are broken?

Lord, we kneel before you. And we surrender. All of us. In our brokenness and in our beauty. Our mended places and our scars. We are here and we say... we are small. You are great. We are weak. You are strong. We are wavering. You are constant. We are spinning. And You, my Lord, are the still place in the center of our soul. May we find you.... May we kneel.

Romance is bigger than a love story.

Romance is bigger than a love story. It is the story of love. Romance is making things lovely because of Love. It is seeing the signature of God on his creation. Watching the snowflakes weave their way across the sky to that perfectly selected blade of grass they call home. It's the precious uniqueness of each child's laugh - none being the same. It's the artwork of a Congolese war torn child as she draws her life dreams. It's a true friend's long embrace. A hot happy meal to a homeless man. A hug of gratitude from an earthquake victim.

It is a smile when you are by yourself in the car and that song comes on. A unspoken bond between two friends. It's overdue forgiveness. It's the sound of distant train whistle. It's knowing something about someone that you only know because their fingerprint is on your heart. It's your cat licking your face to wake you up in the morning. Your dog meeting you at the door. It's the sounds of rain dancing on a tin roof or sleet as it hits your window. The look of a man in a wheelchair when you open the door for him.

Chocolates from your daddy. It's a smirk because you both are thinking the same thing without saying a word. The innocence of a three year old. That look of adoration when you pray with them and the sound of their feet running to you when you walk in the door....that is Romance.

.Close your eyes. Open your heart.

i want to be blue

‘Aunt b, if kindness were a color, what would it be?"

Putting them to bed. She looks at me. She is nestled under the covers. I smile.

There is a space between feelings and thoughts and living that we seem to loose. A space created for us to sit. And listen. And wait. A space that is magical and beautiful. It is where Kindness lives. It is where Wisdom makes its home. It is where seconds of silence can give way to years of destruction or eternities of Life. If only we would listen to it. If only we would stay still. In that space lies answers to questions we are afraid to hear. Endings of wrestlings that have gone on for years. Revelations that can make the blind see.

I want to see.

I crave to see.

I beg to see…..

Through the eyes of a Savior boy lost in thought from teaching scholars, an artist Creator whose grace outlives eternity, a Spirit of life and peace and all things beautiful, an orphaned girl who is giving her body in exchange for food, a child in Haiti who still lives in a tent camp from the earthquake and is afraid of the wind.

He wants to know… They all want to know

Do you remember me?

Do you? Remember?

The one who gave you breath? The creator of Kindness. The persona of Patience.

The living breathing Constant who never stops seeing you. Who never stops loving you. Who never ceases to exist or goes away. Who never stops…… Who never. Stops. And who says:

I am in the Space.

In our whirlwinds of Life. We trample. I trample. Being so fixed on the list of doing, the goal of reaching, the next best thing…. That we – I – fail to stop and just sit for a few seconds and listen.

‘If kindness were a color, what would it be?”

Still looking up at me. She is nestled under the covers. Her baby sister next to her. Books have been read. Prayers have been said. Just one more question.

“I don’t know……… maybe blue?”

“Then if you were a color, you would be blue”

I look at her in wonderment and I want to be her. She is carefree. In her head more than she is out of it. And knee deep inside of the heart of God; though she may not even know it.

I kiss her goodnight and tell her that was one of the most beautiful compliments I have ever received. But I leave the room wondering if it is true. I wish to be kind. I strive to be. But am I? In the quiet places? In the secret places? To the closest of kindred hearts to me? Am I?

When space comes to space…. What do we choose? Do we listen? Or do we plunge past it? Not giving it reverence or thought or presence. It holds oceans of riches and mountains of jewels.

I am on retreat for the day. The first of the year, I always take a few days and I pray. I reflect.

I ask for revelations before I make revolutions.

Wondering what the Lord wants me to be or see or understand. How do I need to change, to bend and to shape my soul so it reflects more of my Creator? What have I done well this year? What have I done poorly? Who am I and how am I and where am I in this Spiritual Journey we call Life?

I always leave retreat with more than I came with….

This year? I am leaving with valuing Listening and Presence. With understanding my smallness. With recognizing His greatness. With a respect of the soulful parts of life and a deeper value of the people who make it up.

With a reverence of secret spaces of life between thoughts and decisions that holds wise rivers of Kindness. Rivers that should be heard and emersed in and floated down and sat in – at least for a few seconds - before intentionally stepping into whatever Life has set before us.

I crave to be aware. I wish to be present. I seek to be kind. I want to be Blue.

“Sweet dreams, darlin’s. I love you.”

Turning out the light. I walk away…..

Strangely. Simply. Wanting to be more.

Blue.

Sweet Lord,

You are kind to me. And patient and loving and longsuffering and gentle and good. You are so good. I sit here and I reflect on a year remembered. A beautiful head-spinning glorious year that I place before your feet in exchange for another. Hands open wide for all you have to give. But a heart open wider for all you have to teach. Overwhelmed at the deep blueness of your heart. Hoping to reflect even a speck of it. Deeply thankful for being....

Yours, b

~ Fire ~

Sing of a New Year

Echos of a changed heart

Whispers of an old way of being - transformed

A battered spirit bandaged in mortal salve

Seeking a Spiritual Healer of forever

Restored Souls waiting in anticipation for the Spring petals to be felt

Fingertip to Fingertip

Sunsets of regret give way to Sunrises of baptism

As breaths of New Life awaken and are taken one at a time

And with each new breath there is a hope of another

And with each gasp of life there is death of the old

And with each Beginning there is an End

Old Endings melting into New Beginnings

And the Angels sing a chorus of Life

A Life to be lived

An Existence to be embraced

A Passion to be lit

Fire

Let us live out loud and on

~ Fire ~