Here I sit in the ungodly heat....dripping sweat, avoiding homework, and thinking of my long lost love....Chicago. In Chicago...it is fall (something that Southern California has no concept of). In Chicago, the sky is probably overcast, the weather cool, leaves beginning to change, football on everyones mind. In Chicago the tea, coffee, and cocoa is ordered warmed rather than "iced" or "frozen," because it is needed to warm the soul. In Chicago...sweats, jeans, hoodies, and long sleeves are appropriate. The South Side of the Chi has my heart....and yet....it does not have me. For you see, Jesus didn't let me stay in the Chi...not for this season anyway.
Rather, He has led me to the South side....of Los Angeles. He has taken me to South Central...a different world from the South Side of the Chi, and yet comfortable and right. In my time here so far, LA has not stolen my heart the way Chicago did within weeks...and now after an entire summer a large portion of me still remains tied with that glorious place. It is a struggle, not comparing here to there....not dreaming of greener pasture and cooler (and cleaner) air. But in the midst of my longing...God has given me peace. For it is here that He wants me...and here feels right.
The more time I spend in Los Angeles, the more comfortable I feel...as if I've been here for years. It's weird...where most people find restlessness, I find Shalom in the city. Never seems to matter which one...there's just something about cities. Not the nightlife....not the money....no, I find it somewhere else. You see, in the place people ask "God where are You, why are You allowing this to happen," I feel Him. In the emptiness of a broken system...in the pain of an oppressed people, of an unjust world, of shattered spirits where there seems to be nothing but despair...for some reason I feel comfortable. Not content or complacent...far from it. I want to see change, I want to flip the systems on their heads. I want to see equality, I want to see a place where "the common good" actually means something, I want radical change. But, to do so....I must be willing to live in the uncomfortable. Comfortable in the uncomfortable....living in the chaos, it's the motto I've come to live by.
And so I am here on my new journey, a wandering wondering soul once again. Though I am not alone on this leg. I am one man (man boy?) amongst 16 women. For some guys this would be a nightmare. For others it would be a dream. For me...it is a blessing. Not a blessing in the "you have your pick" or "Bachelor LA Term Edition" as many have joked of, I'm not looking nor am I stupid enough to show one girl favoritism and spark any kind of drama (though I do not see these young women as that type of group, but you never know). Rather...I have the blessing and privilege of watching a strong community of Godly women form. I have the honor of watching as they build one another up, pushing each other to be strong women of God. I get to see as they are empowered and see their strength as women. I get to sit in awe at a group thirsty for change in a broken world. It is not a matter of "how are you surviving being the only guy with 16 girls," but rather what an amazing privilege it is to see first hand the beautiful work God is doing in these women...and what an inspiration it is to me. As I see a different perspective, as I hear stories shedding light through different eyes...and as I watch this group and how they really do not need me....they really don't "need a man," but rather how much God sustains them and builds them from within....privileged and blessed...I'm a privileged and blessed individual.
As I came to LA, I was wondering how I would be stretched. I love the city...I do the city thing. I figured it would come from being with 16 girls and no guy companion but...this has not been the case. But rather, I have been challenged in small yet large things...and will be pushed in my internship. The largest challenge and smack in the face comes in the form of a challenge to the way I do things...what I want to be and do with my life. Lately I have been missing sports. A major part of it is indeed playing the games, the teammates, the camaraderie. But I think a huge part of it is the spotlight...the attention, the chance to be a hero. I want to change the world. I want to be known for the lasting imprint I have left. Deep down inside...I think of what an honor and how amazing it would be to be mentioned in the same breath as Martin Luther King, Nelson Mandela, Ghandi, Mother Teresa...as agents of change. Yet it is this dream to be spectacular that pins me down. As I interviewed for a non-profit internship, they mentioned what I may be doing. They emphasized this, because for many, particularly white college students...this work seems "beneath them." The white college students want to come in and be the heroes. But with this organization, the movement was mostly women and minorities, neither of which am I. And I began realizing...my place may not be up front. My place may not be using my voice over the microphone to stir a movement. My name may not be the one that is remembered. But this doesn't mean I won't be a part of it, and it doesn't mean I won't make God proud. In reality...I can never be the hero. I cannot be the protector. I cannot be the savior who changes the world....because only God can. He chooses some pieces to make it happen, but it is Him. Regardless of whose name is remembered, it is His work and His glory. And so I sit...learning to be okay with not being the hero, not being the one to change the world, not being the one to flip systems on their head...I'm learning to be ok with laying low, going unnoticed, yet in doing the small things with great love and to the best of my ability...helping do Gods will and being a piece of the movement that flips this world on its head.
Doing the city life, having my heart firmly planted in the urban setting and issues can be difficult, heartbreaking, and make me feel so small and at times like things are hopeless. And so I leave with a quote, words of Dr. Cornel West:
~I use the language of decline, decay, and despair rather than doom, gloom, and no possibility because I think any talk about despair is not where you end but where you start..and then the courage and the sacrifice come in…but at the level of hope not optimism. Optimism and hope are different. Optimism tends to be based on the notion that there is enough evidence out there that allows us to think that things are going to be better, much more rational, deeply secular. Whereas hope looks at the evidence and says “it doesn’t look good at all,” says “it doesn’t look good at all.” Says “we gonna make a leap of faith…go beyond the evidence in the attempt to create new possibilities based on visions that become contagious to allow us to engage in heroic actions always against the odds no guarantee what so ever.” That’s hope. That’s hope.~
Dr. Cornel West says:
"I cannot be an optimist but I am a prisoner of hope"
This is what I want to be. Not an optimist, but a prisoner of hope finding the Shalom of the city as I wander wherever He sends me and wonder at the work of His hands.
