Darkness and Light

I've been reading a blog written by a guy named Cameron Conant for a while now. He often has insightful things to say. You can find it here, and it will be added to my sidebar soon too.

Earlier this week he posted this quote, which caught my attention:

"To embrace weakness, liability, and darkness as part of who I am gives that part less sway over me, because all it ever wanted was to be acknowledged as part of my whole self."
--Parker Palmer, "Let Your Life Speak"

Yes! So many people I know, so many Christians I know just won't embrace that part of themselves or that part of others. I was talking with a friend last night - a friend whose calling and profession in life is also to serve the broken. Together, we were observing how few people were really willing to acknowledge the messiness or brokenness of life - of their life or of others lives. I know of a number of people who consistently interact with the homeless of Calgary - they feed them a meal, maybe give them some clothes, chat with them for the hour or two that they're on the streets each week, even occasionally buy them a bus ticket or invite them to church, but these same people have demonstrated a complete inability or willingness to acknowledge and walk through the ashes in the lives of a number of people I know within the church. When messiness is confined to the short interaction on the streets of the city it is okay. It is not okay when it begins to infringe into their homes, their conversations, their daily lives.

And yet, I cannot live anymore in a way that denies the realities of my life and of those around me. I feel I must speak up - and it scares me terribly. I am afraid of hurting people that I care for deeply. I am afraid that by speaking out - by challenging people on this issue - I will find myself alone and wandering, rejected by the church for carrying a message so many within it's walls don't seem to want to hear. But I have met Jesus in the ashes. And it has been brought home to me in such a powerful way this week.

I was sharing the image of the phoenix with my friend last night. The image of something beautiful, powerful, stately emerging from the ashes. Beauty birthed from destruction. She talked about grass - she had watched a patch of grass that had been burnt in a grass fire in a local park last summer. As the burnt area began to be covered with grass again, it was much greener than the unburnt areas around it. I like that image as well - strength and vitality and beauty coming where there had been only destruction.

I am so grateful that when God began to call me to this place of serving the broken, of caring deeply, of allowing my emotions to be affected by the suffering of these people, He did not ask me to walk alone. I have been blessed innumberably by friendships that I never expected - people who have been around my church for years, even someone within my homechurch who I had never connected with - people who share this heart for the broken. I am so grateful for these people who assure me on a weekly basis that I have not gone insane to give my heart to this thing that God has lead me into. People who understand the need to pray protection over each others' lives as we walk through the pits of evil at times. People who know how much a hug or a smile can mean in a week that has been marked by the realities of evil. To those of you who have been walking through this journey with me over the last while, I really, really want to say thank you. You've been bright spots - expressions of beauty amidst ashes.