The Cry of My Heart

I just wrote 4,116 words on the Navajo people and the poverty that exists on their reservation.

You see, I have been learning in my Poverty and Development class that poverty is more than physical needs. It is a web of things like vulnerability, powerlessness, spiritual depravity, and broken relationships. The root cause of poverty is sin, and from that sin comes broken relationships and marred identity, which leave people impoverished. A web of lies has left the poor captive to the God complexes of the non-poor, and we have been left with a broken world.

But as I finish those 4,116 words I raise my eyes and my arms to praise God. For as I finished this paper, a paper that should have brought me a sense of duty and deadlines, I was brought to tears. For it feels like the scales have fallen from my eyes. Because of writing this paper I can see and feel the hurt of not just the Navajo people, but all native people in the United States. And at the same time, I can see and feel the hope.

Yes, I have a long way to go and I have a lot to learn. I certainly do not know everything and I certainly will never be able to fix all the problems of the world. But if what I do know, if what I have learned, can help restore the identity of a broken people by understanding that they are not made in the image of an oppressive government or unequal power relationships, but that they are made in the image of God.... well, then my whole life was worth it. For I am a broken sinner. I am a failure and I probably always will be. But I serve a God of love, hope, faith, and forgiveness. I serve a God who can restore and rebuild. And if He chooses to involve me in even the smallest part of His mission, my whole life is worth it. My whole life will feel complete. For He has chosen to open my eyes, the eyes of a sinner, and He has chosen to let me feel in this moment, the heart of my Creator. A heart that beats solely for His people and their brokenness. A heart that is consumed with joy and at the same time sadness. A heart that will jump up and down with the Navajo people when our Savior comes back, because He has saved US. 

So I will Praise God, our Father, our Creator, and our Emmanuel.  
For He has restored my soul.

Comments

  1. laneyMarch 10, 2012 at 4:43 AM

    ...tears of true compassion do have a way of removing scales from our eyes don't they...and from the eyes of others as they look at us...trying to see Jesus...i love you...elaine/ccww

    ReplyDelete
  2. laneyMarch 10, 2012 at 4:43 AM

    ...tears of true compassion do have a way of removing scales from our eyes don't they...and from the eyes of others as they look at us...trying to see Jesus...i love you...elaine/ccww

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Endings and Beginnings

 I've had a lot of endings that are also beginnings.  In fact, I've lived in Jeff's house for 3.5 years and that's the longest I've lived in a single home since I left Virginia at the age of 16. For over half of my life I have been without roots. I've lived in 9 homes in the last 12 years. That is absurd.  And the truth is, I don't want to be rootless anymore. I want to settle in, build something I am proud of, and never have to pack another moving box in my life. This restless, wandering soul wants to plant my feet on the same ground for more years than I can count and raise my daughter like I was raised in Virginia- with lasting friends and mother-daughter book clubs and people you grow up with. I haven't had a single place I've felt was truly my home since I left Richmond as a teenager, and I am ready to change that.  So in one week, we move to Tennessee. It is a place where a lot of our dreams lie. It is where Jeff will continue a career that he
Read more

Faith Within Suffering

 I didn't talk about God for a while.  When I was younger, I never stopped. My oldest friend and I laughed last weekend about how I would pray for her to attend church when we were kids and tell her about my prayers. When I was in college, it was my purpose. On the reservation it was my profession.  When the waves of suffering hit, I still professed God's goodness for a while, but eventually it became too much. The waves kept knocking me down every time I tried to get up. I was sick in a cancer ward. My relationship with church completely upended. My marriage destroyed.  I stopped talking about my God because I couldn't make sense of my suffering or anyone else's pain. I didn't have any of my youthful certainty. I just had a whole bunch of questions and a whole lot of anger.  Until life got better. Until I got perspective. Until I stood in the snow among the Tetons and said to the wind, "Ok, God, I'm ready. Let's do this again. I'm with you." 
Read more

Five Years After the Divorce

Image
It has been five years, this December, since a judge declared my marriage officially over. It was the culmination of the worst season of my whole life. It was the end of something I had believed was forever. It was a season of bitter tears, struggles with depression and thoughts of suicide, and complete and utter hopelessness. Everything I had believed in had been shattered and in the end, I hadn't been chosen by the one who I chose to marry. I believed the false narrative that I hadn't been good enough, strong enough, or healthy enough. I was certain happiness would never find me again.  Over the next five years, I had to rediscover myself. I had to relearn my strength, my worth, my value. I had to heal from what had happened. I had to be angry and learn how to let that anger go. I lost my relationship with church and grew new relationships with a team of doctors when I got a cancer diagnosis just four months after my divorce was finalized. I had to figure out who God was, who
Read more