Live Now.

New Blog

2007-05-01T09:35:00.000-07:00

I changed my blog address to...

http://carlystraker.wordpress.com

Come see me there sometime.

Peace.

loving life. giving the fingernails a chance.

2007-04-18T22:52:00.000-07:00

People who read this might be thinking my life these days is a little intense and dark even. Here I am writting blogs about rape or the oppression of Muslim women. Not the kind of things that will necessarily put a smile on your face or make you feel happy inside. You got me there.

The thing is though, Im loving life. Im always loving life. I have a lot to be thankful for. A lot that makes me happy, inspired, grateful... I am surrounded by people who fill my heart up like crazy. If you're an avid "Live Now" blog reader, the young girls I talked about and wrote poems about are some of the greatest people I know. I am so blessed by having them in my life. I get to hang out with Andrew everyday, and a lot of days I get to watch him tease, joke with and hang around some of these same teens. I mean seriously, how much better can it get? My heart totally melts like on those sick, gag me romantic movies. I know, I never thought I'd be one of those girls. For real. After 30 days I used to run like my life depended on it.

Then there are days like today when I get to go to North Central and tutor a grade 5 girl then take her to Tim Hortons for an Iced Capp and just chat about nothing. Learn about her life, how her dad got a new car and her older sister got a full scholorship for her highschool education. Those things make my day for sure.

I write about deep things sometimes. A lot even. My heart is drawn to that stuff, to those people. I was made that way. But I also carry joy. When you read things that are sad, hard to hear, or depressing even, know that I write with optimism in that we have hope, and the power to change what hurts us. We have each other to offer help to in the rough times, and to dance with in the good times. We have Jesus who taught us how to live and how to love. The same guy who gives us chance after chance after chance to get it right.

If you are sick of hearing about deep and maybe depressing stuff, I don't mean to wear you out. I don't mean to drag any spirits down. I write about the life that happens around me. The stuff I happen to see and be a part of. It is what inspires me, and I hope it can inspire you too. It is the stuff that moves me, pushes me and yes, sometimes breaks me. But that's life. And to have joy isn't necessarily to have continual happiness. There can be joy in sorrow. It is different, deeper, and real. It moves with the motion of life, not against it or with a dependance on the circumstances. It keeps the spirit strong and dependant on it's source.

In other news...I quit biting my nails and I retired my belly button ring - 7 years, good times.

"Submission" (part one)

2007-04-16T13:51:00.000-07:00

You should watch this video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SXGZBs65qMs
If you can't connect with the link, go to U Tube and search for "Submission." You will find it no problem.

The video deals with the oppression of Muslim women in so many countries. The video is a prayer of one of these women to Allah, the Muslim God.

This short film was made by Theo van Gogh who was a Dutch movie maker and the brother of Vincent Van Gogh, who we all know as the famous painter/artist. The film was made with Ayaan Hirsi Ali who is currently working on "Submission Part 2."

Theo Van Gogh was killed by a Muslim fanatic in 2004 because of this film. His killer was 26 years old and attached a 5 page note to his body after killing him on the spot - Van Gogh was bicycling on the way to work at the time of his murder. Mohammed Bouyeri was arrested and sentanced to life in prison with no chance of parole. Not only did he shoot Van Gogh 8 times (among other things that I will leave out - google it if interested) but he did so with the intention of assasinating his film associate, Ayaan Hirsi Ali, next.

Apparently the oppression of Muslim women, and the nature of the Muslim God should not be questioned or challenged.

Theo Van Gogh is remembered and celebrated as "A martyr of free expression."

worth the read? you decide.

2007-04-13T17:37:00.000-07:00

In a matter of seconds I go from shaking my head in frustration and disbelief to wiping tears from my eyes or letting them fall on Andrew's shoulder. I grew up surrounded by good men. My dad, my brothers, my grandpas, my uncles, my cousins, my friends. All supportive, fun, strong, caring, protective, and sensitive people. The type of men who were always showing love. Im 23 now, and am still surrounded by good men. Andrew, Jason, Arlen, etc. But I am also surrounded by young women (and older women) who haven't had the same experiences with men as I have. Their's are the opposite.

I have had too many conversations with "my girls" where they tearfully tell me that they were raped or sexually assaulted by a stranger or more commonly, by a friend or aquaintance. I wish the world, and those boys, could see the faces of these girls in that moment. To feel what they feel inside. To feel like nothing. To feel empty and confused. To feel violated by someone they trusted and opened their hearts to. At that moment, nothing else in the world matters except for that beautiful and broken person sitting in front of you. Nothing matters more than to tell her that it wasn't her fault despite any and all circumstances. To tell her that she has and will always have support, a trusted friend, and a source of help in you and the people around her.

It is sad that at such young ages we are conditioned to expect bad behaviour from men and to learn to distrust them. What about the amazing men? The good guys? Because of the "dirtbags" (as my big brother would call them) they too are stereotyped and mistrusted. Sometimes they don't even get a fighting chance. (But seriously, thanks for being who you are).

We try to point fingers at specific types of people or distinct things like people who are anti-social, or the media as the causes of these "incidences." But the truth is that there is no single cause or influence, but are many. We are constantly bombarded with messages of romanticized violence and the association of that same violence with sex. We hear lies that rape is something women actually want or enjoy. That no really means yes - it is just that women don't want to come off as sluts or be labelled as "easy" or "loose." Nice language huh? Welcome to the world of young girls (and boys) everywhere.

The problem is not that women do not know how to protect themselves and the issue does not lie in the woman's choice of dress or the places she hangs out at. It is not the fact that she is out late at night and it is dark outside. When we make statements like this, we are only adding to the problem by yet again, placing the blame on the victims rather than the assailants.

The real problem is that women have to worry about these things in the first place. The problem is that there are men out there (not all men) who think that it is their right to control, place power over, and abuse women simply because they are women. Because they are weak, small, or less than man. This is also true for gay men. How many hate crimes have been committed against them because of their sexual orientaion? Way too many that's for sure. And Im not even going to get into the language we use that constantly belittles and implies the insignificance of women and gay men. It is sad to me that the words "girl" and "homo" or "gay" are used to insult rather than used for their true meaning - a persons identity. Maybe we should consider that the way we talk reflects our thinking patterns and underlying thought processes...that these "social norms" or "language norms" are more hurtful and destructive than we give thought or credit to.

This is probably a little too long and a little too deep for a Friday night, but it goes on whether we acknowledge it or not. God created us with the power to choose and to change. We have the ability and responsibiliy to teach our children, youth, and peers how to treat women. How to respect them, treasure them and value them rather than to dehumanize them. Afterall, we are your sisters, daughters, mothers, and friends.

Minoritys and activist groups (ie: feminists) will always stand up for themselves and fight for their rights and beliefs. But how much more powerful would it be if even a small percentage of the dominant group stood up and fought for them as well? (I know some of you do).

I grew up surrounded by good men. My dad, my brothers, my grandpas, my uncles, my cousins,my friends. All supportive, fun, strong, caring, protective, and sensitive people. The type of men who were always showing love. Im 23 now, and am still surrounded by good men. Andrew, Jason, Arlen, etc. To all of you guys - you are the heros, the ones who get it, and the ones I hope the world looks up to and learns from.

From the mouths and hearts of those broken...

"I didn't tell you for so long because I didn't want it to change the way you thought of me."

"Ive never told anyone or said it outloud because then it would be real."

"I thought that If there really was a god, why would he let this happen to me?"

"I forgot how to feel. It was like I was numb. I dissapeared. I didn't even go out in public anymore."

to violate a friend

2007-04-13T15:26:00.000-07:00

Who are you, so handsome
to overpower me
when I say stop?
to hold me down
to kiss my face

dont tell me its okay
as if this was what i wanted
just go.

You were a good one
so I thought
with a smile that made me laugh outloud
and no one will ever know
because to speak the words make it real.

This can't be real.

And you walk away like nothing happened
like you weren't wrong.
with no guilt
no consequence
who were you to decide?

...to violate a friend...

When you pass me, keep your eyes on the floor
because I will always look you in the eye.

And someday I will find my voice.
Someday you will shrink to size.

Its the small people who crave power.

closer

2007-03-29T22:07:00.000-07:00

i can't understand you
or the words im supposed to live by
lost faith in institutions
lost grace towards the faithful
a deeper faith in you.

i dont want to miss this
you find me here to tell me I am yours.
you are love -
and love is what rescues us
Im dying to know you
even when I run away.

your blood is in my tears
teach me grace
teach me Jesus
falling at the feet of the world
reaching out to the unknown

you dont live in our misrepresentations -
our traditions, our opinions, our judgements
but in a world so different than we have created for ourselves.
reaching out and waiting...
"try me. test me. you decide."

March (the month, not the action).

2007-03-08T12:55:00.000-08:00

I have these moments when I really wish I could just blog out all the things that are happening, things I am seeing, etc...but in most of these moments, I am no where near a computer or I am just doing other things that I don't want to walk away from for a compter! So here I am days later with too much to say.

Some people have been asking me about Andrew, so here's the news. On Sunday (March 11) he is booked for his RCMP polygraph test. This is the last stage of his application, so we will let you know the news when we hear it. And yes, I have submitted my questions! (haha).

As for my work/school/future...I got my acceptance letter on Friday - I am now "officially" in the Social Work program at the University of Regina! Woop Woop! I love it so far and am excited for next years classes and experience! I am volunteering at the North Central Family Centre as a part of my program - and because my heart took me there. And oh man, do I love it so far! I haven't done a ton yet, but I met the kids, had some conversations, and fell in love with my work there within the first 30 seconds! That is another blog entry in itself - coming soon. :)

Andrew's parents, Darryl and Janice have been here for the last two weekends which was so much fun. (Darryl - we forgot to play Sequence!) Last weekend though, was a hard one for their family, and even for me as a complete stranger to many of them. Andrew's first cousin Chris was killed in a car accident at such a young age. Among many broken hearts and questions, it was also an amazing example of what family is. The people who hold you, cry with you, hurt for you, laugh with you, remember with you, and love you in good days and through the hard ones.

If you live here, you might be like me and have wet slush on the hems of your pants. That makes me excited. Andrew and I have been "playing in the snow" a lot lately. Last weekend we spent Saturday afternoon climbing up onto the garage roof and jumping off into the huge snow drifts in the backyard. Shannon came out for that one too. Andrew, in all of his boyness, probably found it natural to attack us with snow at one point, but we got our revenge later on as we pushed snow off the roof onto Andrew below! Dont mess with us. We are the garage roof queens. Then last night, Andrew and me went for a walk and played in the snow for a couple hours. We found ourselves at the IMAX/Science Centre playground and couldn't just walk past. You can make your own thunder and lift the world. We climbed up big snow piles then slid down, saw some snowshoers, and before we made it back home, Andrew taught me some James Bond moves. He's much better than me. I usually ended up at the top of the snow drift instead of on the other side. I guess if it was real-life James Bond, I would have been toast. Phewf.

Speaking of Andrew, he just called for a ride home, so Im out.

Sometimes a girl just has to bop

2007-02-06T15:59:00.000-08:00

I'm in a groove today. I went to school for a few hours, witnessed my first student rally, got two psychology classes transferred into my social work program (!), talked to my beautiful gramma (or should I say laughed with my gramma), and cleaned out my room/got some clothes ready to give to VV Boutique (Value Village). I had my music up loud, and bopped the whole time. That is one of my favourite things - Bopping to loud music while Im doing, well, anything. Sometimes Andrew will call and has to ask me if Im having a party. Usually Im just doing the dishes, or doing nothing. Sometimes a girl just has to bop. Shannon would agree with me. We want to be back up dancers. You can guess which one of us wants to be a backup dancer for Michael Jackson...I know you guys would love to see that.

It's a good day. My grampa told me when I was a little girl that he woke up every morning and said to himself "This is the day that the lord has made. I will be glad and rejoice in it." He is very wise, and I want to be like him. Today, I am. Today I have a lot of joy. And speaking of my grampa, you should see him bop. At a wedding this summer, he pulled me out of my chair and we rocked the dance floor and laughed the entire time. Then there's my dad, and boy can he dance. He and my mom turn 50 this year and it is SO much fun watching them - they're awesome! And it is so much fun dancing with dad - He's a good teacher in many ways! Anyways, you get the point. Whether it is through the people in my life, my classes at school, my job, or just knowing that I am his child, God gives me joy. And this is just another day to rejoice in.

I'm out. I gotta bop over to see Andrew! (He's fabulous).

What Not to do at Home Depot

2007-01-21T14:10:00.000-08:00

Okay, in my defense I don't follow car talk that well and in this situation, where we were looking for "2.5 inch piping for the inner cooler of Andrew's car," my imagination simply took over.

What Not to do at Home Depot...

There we were, in an aisle at Home Depot with every kind of piping imaginable. Big, little, black, white, rounded, straight. Yes, it was incredible. A girls dreamland really. As Andrew inspected the different sized pipes (or whatever else you inspect on those things), I thought that it would be really cool to make a robot costume out of them all.

So, I slid on a curved black tube that would fit around my elbow perfectly. Halfway up my arm I realized that maybe this wasn't the best idea in the world, as thick black grease transferred from the stinkin' robot pipe onto my arm.

At that moment, a HomeDepot employee was walking up the aisle towards us. I had found some paper towel and was attempting to wipe the grease off when he asked me what Andrew had done to me. I was embarrased a little bit, and replied; "Well...I guess it wasn't really necessary for me to do that..."

They laughed, and my attempt to be a cool, car-smart, home improvement type girlfriend backfired, and I mostly just looked like a doofus.

Moral of the story:

Clean out piping before making cool robot costumes

--------OR--------

Just don't stick your arm through greasy pipes

Maclean's

2007-01-10T19:02:00.000-08:00

Maclean's published an article in their magazine entitled "Canada's Worst Neighbourhood." The neighbourhood they are describing is the North Central part of Regina. This is a neighbourhood I know, a place where some of my friends live, and an area that I have wanted to live in myself for a while now, mostly because of the disturbing truths described in this article. Jonathon Gatehouse describes a drug infested, gang driven, outsider society where young women (if they even qualify as women yet) sell themselves, where houses are transformed into brothels, where..."Hold up, did you say Regina?" Yep.

If you live here, you should drive through the heart of this neighbourhood, and look out your windows. Turn off your radio, drive slow, and keep your eyes open. Blink if you have to, but let yourself see and feel the reality and truths of our world (our city), that we so often ignore. If we don't see it, it doesn't exist. If we don't hear about the crime and dehumanization just 10 minutes away from our own neighbourhood, it isn't real. And so, we turn off our T.V's, toss aside the magazine, shake our heads a little, and we may even decide that these people, these journalists, have it all wrong. The thing is, they don't. And in a month when we have forgotten this sad story that hits so close to home, the people who are a part of it will still be living it.

If you are at all familiar with Jesus, you will most likely recognize these words...

I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.
Then his followers ask..."When did we ever see you hungry and feed you? Or thirsty and give you something to drink? Or a stranger and show you hospitality? Or naked and give you clothing? When did we ever see you sick or in prison and visit you?’
And he says... "I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!"

Yikes right?
We're pretty comfortable not doing that, thank you.
But I'll tell you what, I WILL finish reading the article... (*gold star).

When reading this, a lot of us seem to immediately think about places far from home - We envision third world countries or the children from World Vision commercials. This is all REALLY good stuff to think about and participate in (do it), but often times we don't see what is right in front of us.

So far since this article has come out, I have heard a lot of "No way's" and arguments regarding the truth of the title - Regina being home to the worst neighborhood in Canada. I'm not sure that really matters, and I really don't think that is the point. The point is, there is a need and we have a choice; act or argue. Sometimes words are very powerful, but sometimes they get in the way of what is important.

We can't change the world, but we can try. And here's a not-so-subtle cry for help.

"If you can't save a hundred lives, save one." -Mother Teresa

How to avoid a charging rhinoceros

2006-11-18T14:09:00.000-08:00

A. Upon noticing that a rhino has seen you, turn and run away in a straight line as fast as you can.

B. Sit down quietly until the rhino gets bored and leaves the area.

C. Remain perfectly still and quiet; if the rhino actually charges, run away from it in a zigzag pattern.

What do you think? Or maybe you have a better idea?

...he stopped for everyone...

2006-11-15T09:00:00.000-08:00

We read Psalm 119 at Young Adults the other night - you should read it if you haven't in awhile. Despite the repetitiveness of words like; "instructions, decrees, commands, laws, and regulations," which usually turn my brain off, I ended up having a lot of underlines on my page.

Phrases like "Your commandments give me understanding; no wonder I hate every false way of life" (104) or "everything serves your plans" (91) or "turn my eyes from worthless things, and give me life through your word" (37) jumped out at me. There are a lot more, but If I wrote them all, the entire Psalm would probably end up on my blog. Which wouldn't be a bad thing, Im just not going to do it.

We talked about a ton of verses like these that seemed to jump off of the pages at each one of us, then thought about how we could be more like David, the author of the Psalm - a man (or woman) after God's own heart. This seemed to be a hard one for us to capture and explain. God's own heart...how do we even approach that?

As usuall, my head was no where near empty of thoughts, and over and over I kept thinking of Jesus. The words that kept echoing in my head were intentional love. Seriously, those are two of the best words I know. Maybe you're not so excited about them, but man, the meaning behind those words can change the world.

There are so many people out there who are in need of something. In need of relationship, food, shelter, warmth, human touch...We walk by them everyday, we see them everyday. And most of us just keep walking. Apparently we aren't so good at intentional love. I think we need to try harder.

As for Jesus? He stopped for everyone. This is the kind of person I want to be - like him. The kind that stops for the man standing outside of Safeway, or the liquor store asking for my change. If it were Jesus passing by, maybe he would stop and invite this guy over for dinner. Or maybe instead of throwing a couple quarters in his hat, he would ask him his name, take him by the hand, and go back into Safeway to buy him some groceries. And at church on Sunday morning, maybe he would recognize that the person two rows back was having a hard time and needed some love, support, and time. We don't give much of that do we? I bet Jesus never said "Time is money." I bet he never told people he was too busy to be there for them.

Mother Teresa told this story of a time she went to a hunger rally (or something similar to one). When she got there, she found a man lying outside of the doors starving to death. Inside, all of these people were discussing ways to cure hunger, when right on their doorstep, a man was dying from it.

Love without action is just a word. And God calls us to live intentional lives... doesn't he?

Isaiah 28

2006-11-14T12:00:00.000-08:00

if I trust you, I will find you here
but so many times i break
only to find your reaching hand
that pulls me to my feet
and i see clearer
...the rescue of a fading flower

and i cant help but wonder
if i open scars to bleed
how long will you love me?
your forgiveness falls like the hardest rain
i feel it fall on my face again...

dont let me go - i need you here
you are all that is strong
where the broken hearted rest
I would do anything to stay
its here i fail
its here i call for you,
...for the rescue of a fading flower

countless, the times i fall
still your mercy reaches further
it's in the weakest moments
where we see your greatest work
from ashes to beauty...
you bring to life all that was lost
...in the rescue of a fading flower

she's sixteen

2006-11-12T16:18:00.000-08:00

some nights I don't know who I am,
or why life burns the broken ones.
she's saying all the things she shouldn't have to know.
-sixteen years never felt so old.

and it's dark outside
when the stars don't shine.

what words could ever make right
the injustice of a stolen night?
where she died to survive the moment that broke her.

and Im fighting for her innocense.
but nothings making any sense anymore.

such beauty turned to stone...

fear has left her numb,
and a thousand walls guard her heart.
he's camoflauged her pain
and she smiles, like nothing matters

it's here I know who I am

Im fighting for her innocense
though nothings making any sense
...but she won't fight alone.

these days

2006-10-16T15:46:00.000-07:00

It's not that I don't like updating my blog or telling people about the adventures of my life. I really enjoy this blog thing, even though it probably looks like I only feel obligated to it. The truth is I have no idea what to say. I have a thousand thoughts bouncing around in my head, and where writing used to help me organize them, I can't seem to do it this time. I wonder what the deal is. Ive sat down at my computer plenty of times this month and...nothing. So, instead of trying to write something intelligent and thought provoking, Im just going to tell you what's up.

I live with my little brother, and he is fabulous. If you haven't met him, Im sorry, but you are missing out. He has the ability to make you think when you just aren't in the mood. He watches biographies, and inevitably has gotten me hooked. He makes me laugh, and sometimes he makes me worry because he is MIA. But he never disappears for too long - Plus he's been disappearing since he was 5, so I'm getting used to it. I could probably write an entire book about him and his crazy style of day to day living (and I might), but for now, I'll end the Cory section with the recent realization that my brother grew muscles. Okay, I was pummeled. Whatever Cory. Watch your back.

My other brother Jeremy, is in Thai land. Im a little jealous, but mostly Im just really excited for him. He reminds me of Will Smith. I know, Jeremy is white, but seriously, I can't even watch Men in Black without thinking of him. Some girl is going to be lucky someday when she finds him. One of the best guys I know.

My best friend and favourite person in the world, Andrew, just passed his RCMP test. This means more tests! In 2 weeks he will be running his physical test at 8:30am. He also has to fill out a huge character/personality questionnare and do a lie detector test at some point. Then, if he passes everything, he will go into training right away for 6 months. I have no doubt that he will be great at it! We sometimes laugh about our jobs and how he'll bring people in, and I'll work with them and send them back out! I sure love this guy.

I am going to the University of Regina for Social Work and am loving it. I told John Close last weekend that I can't wait for 2+ years to be over, so I can actually be doing what I am really passionate about. I want to set up programs and work with troubled Youth, in either a Correctional Facility, A prison, A home, etc... Lots of people have told me that Social Work is a hard job and will take a lot out of me. That It can be depressing and that a lot of people are worn out and torn down from the work involved in this career. They are probably right. But, then I listen to the voice that tells me who I am. And I realize that I wouldn't want a job that didn't take a lot out of me - I have a lot to give. Bring on the addicts, the victims, the abusive, the lost, the scared, the broken, the stubborn, and the violent - My heart beats for you guys.

I'm working at the church with a bunch of teens as the "Youth Ministry Coordinator" this year. This is one of my most favourite places to be - with the Youth. I usually end up spending a couple random weeknights with a teen (or a few), and then of course we all get together on Thursdays nights where we play ball and usually do something unneccesarily messy, or painful - what? Teenage boys thrive off of pain. And then we talk. Not just any talk though, Real Life Talk. The kind where I (and many of the leaders) am entrusted with their secrets, pains, frustrations about life, and questions. It is absolutely crazy what some of these kids go through and have to live with, but what an amazing gift to be able to be an influence and a support in their lives. I went to a 16th birthday party for one of the girls' Ive known since I moved here, and once I got there, all her friends were asking if I was the Carly that she calls her sister. Im a very blessed girl. It's not always fun though, and my head is always full of things from conversations I have had with them or experiences they have been through. I have called my mom more than a few times asking her, "How did you do it? How did you know what to do in this situation? What do you say when they ask you this?" A response I always remember is "I didn't know what to do." Then me..."What?!" Then her..."I didn't know what to do - I had to ask. I had to give it to God." God is teaching me many things through this work. How to trust and rely on him, being on the top of the list.

Well, that's it for now. I have to go assess Aquinas' arguments and examine whether others are deductively valid.

Sometime around 1965

2006-07-07T12:03:00.000-07:00

My friend John Close reminded me that my last entry was sometime around 1965. Let’s think about this…

In 1965 the Beatles released their “Help” album (great song by the way) and the Beach Boys released their “Beach Boys Party!” album. Montreal won the Stanley Cup, and Vonda Kay Van Dyke was crowned Miss America. Rhodesia declared its independence from Britain, and Martin Luther King Jr. was arrested during a demonstration against voter-registration rules.

2006...Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie hook up. Canada elects Conservative Prime minister Stephen Harper - the first time in 12 years that a conservative will lead the country. Bin Laden warns the US of an attack by al Qaeda…he also extends a truce. My friend Dave Turner (Davf) goes touring with the African Children’s Choir, my grandparents celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary, and I, use my first power tool.

Whew, okay, now that I’m all caught up I’ll write again soon. Peace out to all my brothas from otha mothas.

And Davf, thanks for the phone call - I miss you man.

the moments his scars bleed...

2006-04-10T14:46:00.000-07:00

Its crazy how we look at a person and see what we want to see. The beautiful, the smart, the good, the bad, the survivor, the lost, the hopeless...It's easy to turn away from the bad and embrace the beautiful.

I know this guy from around Regina whose reputation is one that he himself won't deny. He's a drunk, and most often commented on as "typical." Yeah, he's native and yeah, he drinks...but have you ever asked him why? He told a story about when he was in the army and was ordered to "take out" any threats - this is where he was changed forever. He and some other men turned a street corner and found themselves face to face with a group of kids holding machine guns ready to fire. He was forced to shoot and kill them, and he watched as their little bodies lay lifeless on the ground. He still dreams about that day...He still sees the faces of the children whose lives he ended. And now he drinks because every part of him aches to forget, or even better, take it back. Im not making excuses, and Im not encouraging drunkenness, but I am saying that more often than not, there is more to the story. And more often than not, we forget about relationship and we forget about compassion.

My reality is that I dont really know what a hard life feels like. I have never fought or killed. I have never needed an excuse to forget my life. Like some of the people I know, I have never felt fear - the kind that makes you sick to your stomach - the type that makes you reach for the knife you have hidden in your coat. I have never stood on a street corner selling a fake smile and an abused body so that my boyfriend can make a few bucks. I have never been raped, I have never been abused. I have never been that 13 year old who is beat into unconciousnous as initiation into a gang - cause hey, i've got to survive these streets too. I have never been invisible, never been told im nothing, never been abandonned. My reality is that I never been unloved.

A lot of the kids I know and see each week understand and live this kind of life. They are from single parent families, they have parents who do and/or deal drugs. Some kids have great homes, while others run from them. Some have been to Joovie, some do drugs, some deal drugs, some are alcoholics, some fight, some join gangs, and some are just caught in the middle of it all and dont know what to do or which way to go.

God has allowed me to connect and have relationships with lots of different people, and to see what's underneath so many of the faces they (we...) put on to disguise whats really there. A smile to deflect the abuse. A tough exterior, to compensate for a broken heart.

Ive been thinking a lot lately of how easy it is to dismiss people from our lives and how I see it all too often. Our reality; We give up on people, or we never even give them a chance in the first place. It is in these moments where I think Jesus' scars must bleed. We dont get it. We have forgotten how to love.

We are surrounded by a world full of people who are hurting, and who are reaching out in hopes that someday, someone will reach back. Our problem is that sometimes we just dont recognize the call...it is in the tears of a broken hearted girl who misses her dad; it is in the actions of an angry teen who offers nothing but resentment and frustration, it is in the argument of a non believer. If you think about it, these are the people Jesus came for. Its not the healthy who need a doctor...it's the sick and Jesus doesn't teach a kind of love that walks away.

unlikely disguise

2006-01-26T19:22:00.000-08:00

I was in Shoppers’ Drug Mart the other day picking up some necessities - conditioner to be more specific, because without it, I look like Tina Turner...Seriously. Anyways, I was on the way to the register, when the Valentine’s Day cards caught my eye. I stopped to read a few of them, not even sure why I was doing it. I wasn't going to buy one, and I barely ever stopped to look at any kind of card, I usually just make my own - its way more fun that way. But for some reason I stood there for at least 5 minutes picking one up after the other. After a few minutes, I felt a squeeze on my arm, and a little old man stood beside me and asked if the cards I was looking at were the $1 cards. I explained to him that they were just a special display of Valentine’s Day ones, and he kind of laughed at me and told me that he and his kids never bought cards but always made them for special occasions. I told him I usually did the same, and who knew...our conversation only grew from there.

Our meeting in the card section led to a 20 minute look into this strangers life. “I have many memories from my life” he told me as he described his family, particularly his grandchildren and great grandchildren, the youngest of which is only 5 months. I learned of how he worked on a farm for $0.50 in his younger days, and of how he went through schooling which led him to a better job where he made $300.00. “That was a lot of money back then, just compare it to a teachers’ salary in those days.” I’m pretty sure I smiled the entire time we chatted, especially all the times he paused mid sentence catching himself before he swore - no doubt it is un-polite to curse in front of a lady. He offered me advice and shared experiences that brought an obvious joy to his life. It’s amazing how a person can find comfort in the eyes of a stranger, like I did that day. Everything that I had been worrying about seemed to fade away a little bit after talking to him. I can only hope I did something for his heart in return.

After he had gone, I thought about the fact that I just had a 20 minute conversation with a complete stranger in the middle of a drug store for no reason at all. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if maybe there was a reason behind this random encounter. I have come to realize that there are times in my life when I feel God softening my heart towards somebody, like he is telling me to reach out to them; to love them. Then there are times when I let the business and worries of my own life drown out his voice, as if I have no time to love someone who needs it in that moment.

The old man will forever be a reminder of how I must continually seek God in the most unexpected places. To always listen to his voice telling me to love the stranger, the hungry, the poor... “I tell you the truth, whatever you did for the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” God has taken on the unlikely disguise of those we so often pass by without a second thought. I hate to think that I have missed a chance to give even just a piece of myself back to the one who gave all of himself for me.