April 2006

I find myself edging towards the end of April and facing another newsletter deadline. The irony is that as I read through my previous newsletters to remind myself how far I’ve come and perhaps gain some inspiration for this month’s installment, I was struck by the fact that almost all of my newsletters reflected thoughts and observations that I’m still having even now. Funny how I wrote that I couldn’t believe we had already been here three weeks for that first newsletter and now I’m looking at only about 3 more months until Mission Year ends. I haven’t come up with anything clever or witty for this month, especially since I’m filled with so much uncertainty right now. So again I write to you seeking your prayers and support, offering you the opportunity to partner with what God is doing here.

Pray for me and my team. As third trimester begins, our relationships are strengthening, yet still changing. I do not want to take these girls for granted, or think that I have any of them fully figured out. Please pray that we will remain open and eager to walk with each other through the struggles and triumphs that are yet to come. I am so grateful that God has placed these girls in my life and I pray that we will continue to grow in love for and unity with each other. A new command I give you: love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.(John 13.34-35)

Pray for our last few months as it would be easier for us to throw in the towel since the end is in sight. Mission Year founder Bart Campolo spoke to us a few weeks before we left for spring break and he exhorted us to “kick it in,” as his cross-country running friends would say. He reminded us that most of the people we encounter will remember our time here solely based on how we finished it. If we give up on people too soon we may be missing one of God’s greatest blessings. Especially after trying for seven months to develop relationships with people, it can be discouraging if it seems to be making no progress. Please pray for a spirit of perseverance in the things God is still trying to teach me about grace, freedom, and True love. Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.(Galatians 6.9)

Pray for discernment as all of my teammates and I consider what our post-mission year plans will be. I am praying to be free of distractions as I try to balance thoughts about the future with what we are doing currently. I’m experiencing a definite paradox of choice since I could really do anything and am not sure which direction God is calling me towards. Please pray for clarity but also for a heart clearly seeking God and not just an arrow pointing in a direction.

Pray for my neighbors & friends. Keshia, Knight, new baby Jalen, Ametria, Darius, and Mason are considering moving back to Louisiana to be closer to Keshia’s family. Our team has really grown close with this family and we really want to spend more time with them. Levina is another one of our favorite neighbors—we went over to her house about a month ago to have a Saturday night movie party. She has lived in this neighborhood her entire life and she definitely longs to see these streets free of violence and fear. Keekee and Taranicha are of course also at the top of my prayer list. Please keep their whole family in prayer and pray that God would somehow protect and cover them even in the dangerous situations they might find themselves in. Pray that these girls would grow to see how beautiful and unconditionally loved they are in God’s eyes in such a way that would strengthen them as they prepare to face their teenage years. Please also keep Cathy and Gabrielle in your prayers. I see so much passion in Cathy and I pray that God keeps her on track with Him in spite of many temptations. Gabrielle is another friend from church who we love. Please pray for her as she is a single parent raising her 9 year old son, Gabe. Please also keep my friend Jen in your prayers as she undergoes cancer treatments and seeks to regain custody of her two children. Please also pray for a creative way to show our neighbors how much we appreciate and care about them.

Pray for the city of Oakland. There have been approximately 45 murders so far this year, more than double this time last year and almost half as many as all of 2005. The average age of murder victims last year was 31 years old. Since we’ve been here in September, there have been 85 murders. The mayor and city council of Oakland nearly called a state of emergency last month in order to get enough law enforcement agents on the street to keep the crime wave under control. Please pray that the Church would seize this opportunity to truly be the hands and feet of Jesus in the world.

Praise God for His wisdom and faithfulness. I have been so encouraged by the prayers that I have seen God answer here, right before my eyes. It is evident to me how He prepared a place for us at our church, our service sites, and within the neighborhood. I am so thankful for Pastor Hunter, the Lyons family (our Church liaisons—and so much more), Jahon Pride (music minister at Mt. Zion), Anita Taylor, Jason Pokorny (Volunteer Coordinator at Highland Hospital), Ms. Haynes (assistant principal at Prescott Elementary School), and all the others who have granted me the opportunity to serve and learn alongside them.

Praise God for the neighbors who have opened their hearts and homes to us. We have been so privileged to get to know the people who have welcomed us into their lives. We are very grateful for them and the ways we have been adopted into this neighborhood.

Praise God for World Impact and others in Oakland trying to make an impact for good. God’s spirit is advancing and moving in our neighborhood, and throughout the city, and lives are being changed. Thank God for Hendrik de Boer, Joeybeth Murphy, and Luke Prince, Josh Harper, Kim Williams, the other Oakland Mission Year teams, and all the others who have a passion to see shalom in Oakland.

Praise God for His provision. Our team has raised about 48% of our support goal, and I am at about 40% (approximately $5,000). I am so grateful to those who have contributed to my ministry already. There are serious financial needs for the work that we are doing and I would ask you to prayerfully consider how you may be able to partner with us in this way.

Praise God for His grace, mercy, love, compassion…and sense of humor. It is such an amazing opportunity to be involved in God’s work. Even when we feel discouraged, I am grateful that God opens my eyes to the little things He has done to bless me each day. I am so thankful for His grace, which allows me the freedom to fail and continue to get up again. I am so thankful for His compassion and tenderness in growing my spirit and teaching me self-forgiveness. I also am really glad God has such a great sense of humor—and that He lets us in on some of what makes Him laugh.

I also thank God for each one of you. Your thoughts, prayers,

and long-distance hugs have truly been felt and appreciated!

March 2006

My mom’s reflections on her visit to my neighborhood a few weeks ago…

Faith. Courage. Dedication. Tenacity. Patience. Curiosity. Playfulness. Hospitality. This is what I experienced when I visited the Campbell Street girls the weekend of February 24^th. It comes through in the monthly letters you receive—but it truly materialized for me through my visit.

The neighborhood is desolate and scary. But the neighbors are warm and wonderful. We met Mason and Jazmin (and their siblings). We met Hendrik and the Saturday morning breakfast crew. We met the Mt. Zion church choir members (including Jahon, who invited us to sing with the choir and Gabrielle, who has befriended the girls and made them part of her extended family). We met Stacy, Robert, and Hannah. We met Keekee and Taranicha. Our girls are street smart and showed us the ropes of how to navigate the neighborhood—including what to say (and what not to say). Though they come from very different backgrounds, they are a team and have figured out a way to cooperate and live together (in very close quarters indeed!).

Though there are many many memories from the weekend, the highlight (aside from visiting my angel) was singing in the Mt. Zion church choir on Sunday morning. We were told we enriched the alto section. It was moving to hear the marvelous sounds coming from our intimately-sized choir—an experience I will never forget! Of course, meeting everyone (roommates, families, other team members, and neighbors) was another highlight. I can’t wait to go back.

Keep these girls in your hearts. As frightening as their mission is, they are doing good things and making an impact—one person at a time.

As we were driving towards the hotel on the last day of her visit, my mom asked me how a Mission Year team is measured in its success. How does the city director know, she asked, if the team should come back to the neighborhood the next year? I realize this is a question that a lot of sensible people might ask and coming from the social service world where systems are sought to measure success and impact, it was not an arbitrary question. However, I also realize that measuring results in the kingdom of God is like trying to differentiate between variants of sunlight from day to day. Sure if one day is cloudless and the next grayed with thunderstorms the difference is clear and, with some sort of meteorological tool, measurable. But from one day to the next, especially in Oakland, the variance is slight. Some days you may notice the sun reflecting in certain ways that you didn’t see before or you may notice the clouds are a little fluffier than usual, but for the most part it’s hard to quantify these types of observations. All this is applicable to the general public excluding the portion of which are meteorologists, and those specific people have been trained to see these types of changes with a keener eye than the rest of us.

What are the measures of success for a team in Mission Year? What are the results that we’re looking for? I think part of the answer is just like noticing those sunlight differences from day to day. Some days it seems like nothing is going right—the first graders aren’t listening, the junior high girls at the after school club act like first graders, and I’m really not in the mood to go to Bible study. Other days I feel like I’m the local expert on everything I seem to encounter—my kindergarten class acts calmly and politely, I help someone add finesse to a resume that lands them the perfect job, and my teammates and I share joy at home playing cards or making milkshakes. However, truth be told, most days it’s somewhere in between. The great thing is that no matter what I notice (or don’t notice) the kingdom of God is advancing. This means hope, love, gentleness, trust, grace are being shared. And, each day I’m praying that God gives me, like the meteorologist, a keener eye and more receptive heart to see how these slight movements are happening.

The other part of the answer is what I told my mom that day. I want to be here, loving the people around me as best as I can. In fact, the best that I can offer is pretty weak. So really, I want to be here, making myself available to be used as a vessel in distributing God’s love as best as I can discern how. My hope is that in loving even one person in the form of God’s unconditional, unchanging, gracious nature, his or her life will be changed in some small way that will then affect the surrounding people. A ripple effect of sorts—in a culture where everyone is feeling pressured by someone to do something or prove this or that, why not apply pressure to love more freely or give more generously or spend time more patiently? Success comes in loving well, in fully living out the hope of the gospel, as opposed to trying to come up with the perfect words or slogans. I gave the example to my mom that it may look like us somehow being able to communicate to any one of our teenage friends that they do not need to have a baby to feel unconditionally loved. In turn, they’ll take this radical knowledge and its truth will permeate their life and the lives they touch. In this ripple system, we are playing one role among many in the process of seed planting, cultivating, tilling, etc. We may not see the harvest of the fruits from seeds which we sow, but spending the time to invest in love is worth every second.

The ironic thing is that God would choose someone like me to transport His message. An Emily who just this year began to understand what grace really means. An Emily who can barely go a week without getting annoyed at her teammates about something stupid. Recently we read an article where the author talked about how he realized that his bad days weren’t caused so much by external forces but more by his reaction to not getting his way. These remarks have stuck with me. I needed someone else to say it about himself for me to realize its truth for my life. So this broken Emily, whose “bad days” come from not getting her way in some way or another, is being used by the God of the universe to share His amazing love with some amazing people everyday. Crazy…

A quote I came across the other day seems to wrap up these ideas much more fully and eloquently than I could. Author Brian McLaren extrapolates on Thomas Merton’s words in saying, “‘Do not depend on the hope of results,’ Merton said. Being involved in God’s work requires us to face the fact that our work will at times appear to achieve… ‘no result at all, if not perhaps results opposite to what you expect.’ Far better than being obsessed with results, whether in social work or evangelism, is to focus on the value of the work itself, and on the value of being genuine friends with those we serve…Merton also warned his friend from using social work to make an identity for himself… ‘All the good that you will do will come not from you but from the fact that you have allowed yourself, in the obedience of faith, to be used by God’s love.’”

February 2006

Scenes from a Life or How I learned to redefine “Normal”…

Today I’m outside playing with Mason, hoping to capture or create some sort of graceful moment to relay in my newsletter. But that’s not always how life happens here. Instead, today was a hard day for Mason, so it was a hard day for me, as Wednesdays are my first grade days in Mason’s classroom. His first emotional breakdown today was about the injustice of a fellow classmate allegedly taking his pencil. Keep in mind that all the pencils belong to the teacher and several other classmates offered him any other pencil to diminish his hysterics. Put on top of that the 3^rd graders who threatened to beat him up and it made for an all-around rough day for my little friend. I ran into Mason later and we went over to one of the boy’s houses who said he would sock Mason in the nose. We rang the doorbell and by this time Mason was fully immersed in his imaginary world where he is the police and ready to dole out real justice. Mason knocked on this boy’s door, complete with his set of handcuffs, looking to make an arrest. The boy is a little confused so I step in and ask why he wanted to beat Mason up. I realize that these boys were friends at least a few months ago, if not earlier this week, and I am wondering what went wrong. This boy offers that it was justifiable because Mason was teasing him about this boy’s dead father. Well… Mason’s got some explaining to do, huh? Mason sheepishly apologizes but the boy doesn’t accept his apology. He gives a weak pledge not to beat mason up, but he’s not quite ready for forgiveness. As we walk away, Mason wonders why this boy isn’t his friend now. I try to explain that some things hurt a lot and it takes us longer to get over that pain. I’m not sure how much of this registers with Mason, but I think he’s beginning to formulate some system of fair/unfair in this place he’s learned to call home. I sense that he already has a deep sense of justice, but as a seven-year old boy he feels understandably helpless in an adult world.

And on our walk around the neighborhood, Mason’s right when he mentions there’s not much to do. I just want to stay outside since I can hardly believe I’m experiencing 60 degrees in February. The only park in the neighborhood has been chained off for over a year because of asbestos remnants in the soil. One of our neighbors has talked about getting progress going on the renovations for the playground but so far the only change I’ve noticed since I’ve been here is some more litter inside the fence. Mason then proceeds to prep me in case we hear gunshots while we’re outside, at 4:30 in the afternoon. He’s entirely ready to run if necessary.

Yesterday Karrie and I hung out with Keekee and her cousin Taranicha. We’re taking Keekee and Taranicha from one world into another—from city to suburbs in a matter of California-traffic-clogged moments. A visit to Dairy Queen was in order so along with that came a brief splurge into the world of suburbia for these purely urban teenagers. To me, with a short time of city life under my belt compared to their 26 years combined, the difference between city and suburb is already strikingly clear. Though as we walked around the outdoor mall, I’m not really sure they noticed. I don’t know what they thought of the piped in piano music coming from some inconspicuously placed speakers. I don’t know what they thought of the overwhelming majority of people who looked more like me and Karrie and less like them and their neighbors. I don’t know what they thought, but if I were them I would have been more than a bit disconcerted.

Keekee is by far my best friend here, this 13-year old girl who lives with nine siblings and cousins. It was really great when Keekee lived just a block away, but a few weeks ago the whole clan moved to Richmond, about 15 miles from West Oakland. I was angry that God would take this family from our neighborhood, especially given my excitement and hopes for Keekee. Thankfully though I’ve managed to get out to Richmond a few times already to hang out with her. The other day we drove around just talking. Well, mostly her talking and me listening. But it was great, a chance to spend a solid two hours diving in with a 13 year old living a life that, on the surface, looks nothing like mine did 10 years ago. A lot is not that different—boys, friends, family. Good stuff and bad. But my friend Keekee also hasn’t been in school for three weeks since the sudden move threw all the kids’ school placements out of whack. My dear friend was counting on graduating from eighth grade in June, and now I hope this turn of events which she had no control over doesn’t force her to stay another year in middle school. I complain about the lack of space in my house or how I never get time to myself…and then I’m reminded about how Keekee is sharing a four bedroom house with 11 other people. My problems don’t seem so big after all.

A typical week at Prescott Elementary school sees more than one teacher absent each day. Friday in Mr. Lam’s kindergarten, we found ourselves dealing with a class and a half because at least one of the kindergarten teachers was absent and there were no substitutes. The solution at Prescott is to split the teacher-less class(es) between other teachers. Sometimes the students are in the appropriate grade classrooms, sometimes not. We attended a city council meeting earlier this month where we heard a lot about the ongoing strife between the Oakland teacher’s union and the state-assigned administrator in the currently stalled contract negotiations. One of the many angry teachers present pointed out that at Prescott last year there were 45 days with no substitute teachers. That number may seem high but it seems like there’s already been more days than that this year where there’s been at least one teacher absent and no substitute coverage.

Family night this week was a night of fast food and movies at a friend’s house. An easy escape from our life. On our way back from grocery shopping earlier this week, we were talking about how life post-mission year will be so much easier if we could just choose not to care anymore. We’re being exposed to so many issues, so many directions towards which our heart can extend compassion and eventually we’ll come to a point where we reach our limit. But we know that once we’ve crossed that point of exposure, that point of living amongst injustice on such a large scale, that point of investing our lives for something bigger than ourselves, we can never not care again. So a night of escape from our life is a welcome diversion but ultimately just as unsustainable as an attempt to solve all the problems that we see each day.

A few weeks ago I spent my Sabbath basking in the unseasonable warm spell rolling through the Bay Area by sitting in Union Square in downtown San Francisco. As I soaked up the sun, my head spun with thoughts and frustrations and the echoing sound of the two loud gunshots I had heard a few mornings before. Two days earlier I had been awoken at 7:02am to what sounded like two reverberating bangs right next to my ear. The day before that I had been reflecting on how the sound of gunshots in this neighborhood has become sadly common, often not eliciting much of a response from me unless we hear of an injury or fatality. This is a far cry from our reactions at the beginning of Mission Year, but whether this has developed out of a desire to become numb or just a feeling of powerlessness, this is where I was. I was by no means pleased to accept this as the status quo, I just didn’t know what to do about it. And the Saturday morning gunshots threw this whole thought process into a whirl. I heard some shouting and I propped myself up on my elbows in my bed and peered out the window. There was a man lying on the ground in front of our house, motionless, with a few other people around him in shock. The next several moments are sort of a blur, but it was about five minutes before the police came to investigate the situation. The man was taken away in an ambulance and as far as we know, he survived. We couldn’t catch his face or any other identifying features, and for a second each of my teammates and I took a mental inventory of all the young men we knew in the neighborhood who could have possibly been this victim.

Serendipitously, the vice president of Mission Year was in town for a visit and planning on coming to our house for breakfast that very morning. Leroy has seen his fair share of urban violence and challenged us to respond, somehow, with hope. He challenged us to send the message that we believe there is a better way for our neighbors, that we refuse to sit idly by and watch the people we love live lives dominated by fear and intimidation. He challenged us to think about how we could get our church involved. The Church, after all, is called to be the hands and feet of Jesus. Essentially, Leroy was not only asking us what Jesus would do but calling us to do the radical activism of the Kingdom of God in advancing an agenda of love and peace and hope.

So thoughts and plans and outlines and questions rattled through my brain for the next 48 hours. And as I sat there in Union Square on Monday afternoon, I felt so small and useless. I wondered what a white girl like me, with activism experience limited to suburban college kids, could say to my thoroughly urban neighbors to get them to rally around the cause of local peace. I wondered if they would doubt my motives and I feared that any work I might do would last only as long as I lived on Campbell Street. In confused moments, I often look back through old journal entries for encouragement or to reflect on how far (and often not) I’ve come on different issues I may have been facing. I came across a note to read Isaiah chapter 40, which I had incidentally written to myself after scanning through journal entries once before. As I read, God’s voice was clear and speaking through to this exact situation.

Comfort, comfort my people, says my God... God sees the pain and heartache of his people in my neighborhood and longs to comfort and soothe their heavy burdens. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her that her hard service has been completed, that her sin has been paid for, that she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins… That all this violence and fear and suffering we live amidst is a product of the fallen world. All the cycles and seasons that we face here, though never seeming to change much, can lead to more than just an extension of the same. Comfort my people, calls God, and let them know that I have taken away the chains of sin that bind them to destruction. Every valley shall be raised up, every mountain and hill made low; the rough ground shall become level, the rugged places a plain. And the glory of the Lord will be revealed, and all mankind together will see it… All the desolate places, the landscape we look out upon of sadness and pain, all these will be brought up with hope and strength and power by the might of God. The conditions of our world will not last forever. A voice says, “Cry out.” And I said, “What shall I cry?” “All men are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field…The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God stands forever.” And I said, “What shall I cry?” Cry out that all we think matters here is not what will last. God’s word—love, peace, truth, hope—this lasts forever. That hope and love will conquer; we are not satisfied to watch hope and love be held hostage to the false victories of fear and hate and despair. We will claim this territory for our God. You who bring good tidings to Jerusalem, lift up your voice with a shout, lift it up, do not be afraid; say to the towns of Judah, “Here is your God!” Lift up your voice and do not be afraid to speak out. Say: Here is your God—your God is to be found in all that is good and true in facing evil and resisting it. Here is your God—power, justice, care, compassion, the world in His hands, incomparable, not intimidated by worldly schemes, everlasting, tireless, devoted to the cause of the weak. Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. In that moment I was thoroughly heartened by the hope that God promises. I still don’t have the answers and I have no cleverly produced action plans but I know that with God all things are possible. If I serve a Lord who simply asks me to step out in faith and calls on His people to rise up in love then I have no choice but to respond. I trust that the God who knows the number of hairs on my head cares infinitely about the state of my neighborhood and longs for the day when His people see that love will have the final triumph.

January 2006

THE GREAT MYTH

Thirty years gone and now the drug corner is the center of its own culture…the drugs are no longer what the people sell or use, but who they are. We may have begun by fighting a war on drugs, but now we’re beating down those who use them. And along the street, the enemy is everywhere, so that what began as a wrongheaded tactical mission has been transformed into slow-motion civil war…

In the end, we’ll blame them. We always do. And why the hell not? They’ve ignored our warnings and sanctions, they’ve taken our check-day bribe and done precious little with it, they’ve turned our city streets into drug bazaars. Why shouldn’t they take the blame?

If it was us, if it was our lonesome ass shuffling past the corner, we’d get out, wouldn’t we? We’d endure. Succeed. Thrive. No matter what, no matter how, we’d find the exit. If it was our fathers firing dope and our mothers smoking, coke, we’d pull ourselves past it. We’d raise ourselves, discipline ourselves, teach ourselves the essentials of self-denial and delayed gratification that no one in our universe ever demonstrated. And if home was the rear room of some rancid, three-story shooting gallery, we’d rise above that, too. We’d shuffle up the stairs past nodding fiends and sullen dealers, shut the bedroom door, turn off the television, and do our school work. Algebra amid the stench of burning rock; American history between police raids. And if there was no food on the table, we’re certain we could deal with that. We’d lie about our age to cut taters and spill grease and sling fries at the sub shop for five-and-change-an-hour, walking every day past the corner where friends are making our daily wage in ten minutes. No matter. We’d persevere, wouldn’t we? We’d work that job by night and go to class by day, by some miracle squeezing a quality education from the disaster that is the public school system. We’d do all the work, we’d pay whatever the price…We don’t need to buy any status; no we can save every last dollar, or invest it, maybe. And in the end, we know, we’d head off to our college years shining like a new dime, swearing never to set foot in this neighborhood again.

That’s the myth of it, the required lie that allows us to render our judgments. Parasites, criminals, dope fiends, dope peddlers, whores—when we can ride past them through those neighborhoods, car doors locked, our field of vision cautiously restricted to the road ahead, then the long journey into darkness is underway…

It’s a reckoning of another kind, perhaps, and one that becomes a possibility only through the arrogance and certainty that so easily accompanies a well-planned and well-tended life. We know ourselves, we believe in ourselves; from what we value most, we grant ourselves the illusion that it’s not chance and circumstance, that opportunity itself isn’t the defining issue. We want the high ground; we want our own worth to be acknowledged. Morality, intelligence, values—we want those things measured and counted. We want it to be about Us. Yes, if we were down there, if we were the damned of the American cities, we would not fail. We would rise above the corner. And when we tell ourselves such things, we unthinkly assume that we would be consigned to places like this neighborhood fully equipped, with all the graces and disciplines, talents and training that we now possess. Our parents would still be our parents, our teachers still our teachers, our broker still our broker. Amid the stench of so much defeat and despair, we would kick fate in the teeth and claim our deserved victory. We would escape to live the life we were supposed to live, the life we are living now…[1]

The myth says that because I came from access to more opportunity, I wouldn’t have made the same choices had I grown up here. And my neighbors can read into the myth too. To them it says that expectations are lowered, that we can’t really anticipate that they will become much of anything, amount to anything significant. This is the real lie: that the kids we live with now are in some insurmountable way disabled from becoming more than what this culture says they are destined to be. It is my responsibility, the responsibility of my team, to love my neighbors as we love each other. To love them and believe in them and show them the hope that breaks through all barriers. Not the hope that with Jesus all problems disappear, but the hope in God that means we have the source of all power, love, security, and truth on our side and the loving knowledge that God’s heart breaks for the things that break our hearts.

I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God…in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God…For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. (Romans 8.18-25)

But here’s the real kicker—the real myth is that I am different from my neighbor in some substantial way. The myth says that I am superior, a hero perhaps, because of where I’ve come from. Sure my closet may look different and my skin is a few shades lighter, but past all that, cutting through the insignificant things with which I’ve filled my life, getting deep to the heart—I am the same. We all yearn for satisfaction, loyalty, joy, LOVE. And I trip up everyday on selfish attempts to “do good,” all the while taking stock of who is watching my work. Or I trip up on whatever I currently find appealing to cover up the hurt and pain that I’ve experienced in life. Since coming here I’ve wondered what it is that Jesus offers to a place like this. And here it is—unconditional friendship, true love, loyalty, trust, and freedom from the oppressive cycles and lies my neighbors live with every day. And the hope that there is some place better than the place we live now; we were created for a better place. I need this just as much as the people I see here each day. I am just like my neighbors, I am just like the kids I am assigned to love.

I talk about love, forgiveness, social justice; I rage against American materialism in the name of altruism, but have I even controlled my own heart? The overwhelming majority of time I spend thinking about myself, pleasing myself, reassuring myself, and when I am done there is nothing to spare for the needy. Six billion people live in this world, and I can only muster thoughts for one. Me…

For a moment, sitting there above the city, I imagined life outside narcissism. I wondered how beautiful it might be to think of others as more important than myself. I wondered at how peaceful it might be not to be pestered by the childish voice that wants for pleasure and attention. I wondered what it would be like not to live in a house of mirrors, everywhere I go being reminded of myself …I didn’t like being reminded about how self-absorbed I was. I wanted to be over this, done with this. I didn’t want to live in a broken world or a broken me. I wasn’t trying to weasel out of anything. I just wasn’t in the mood to be on earth that night…I know now, from experience, that the path to joy winds through this dark valley. I think every well-adjusted human being has dealt squarely with his or her own depravity. I realize this sounds very Christian, very fundamentalist and browbeating, but I want to tell you this part of what the Christians are saying is true. I think Jesus feels strongly about communicating the idea of our brokenness, and I think it is worth reflection. Nothing is going to change in the Congo until you and I figure out what is wrong with the person in the mirror.[2]

Like inner-city youth born into destructive cycles on the street, I have been born into a world in which I had no part leading to sin, yet we must live with the consequences or our circumstances. I cannot be exempt from the place into which I was born. As the path to destruction seems inevitable for the neighbors that I love, the path to sin and brokenness is truly inescapable for me. But, in the same breath, I can offer and feel secure in the promise of hope, the guarantee of a better place. I can count on the truth that the price for my brokenness and insufficiency has been paid in full because the God who created me and whose heart breaks with all that breaks my heart loves me so much he would do all that was necessary for my soul to be made whole.

There is something beautiful about a billion stars held steady by a God who knows what He is doing…And as I lay there, it occurred to me that God is up there somewhere. Of course, I had always known He was, but this time I felt it, I realized it, the way a person realizes they are hungry or thirsty. The knowledge of God seeped out of my brain and into my heart. I imagined him looking down on this earth, half angry because his beloved mankind had cheated on Him, had committed adultery, and yet hopelessly in love with her, drunk with love for her.[3]

And if I learn and experience nothing else while I am here, then this has been enough. It is enough to know that I can think of the person next to me, across the street, over the phone line, on a different continent and know that we share struggles, we share blame, we share responsibility for the condition of the places we call home. And it is enough to know that we are not in this alone, that every morning God grants new grace and mercy to get us through each day.

…We also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us… (Romans 5.4-5)

Simon, David and Edward Burns. The Corner. Broadway Books: New York, 1997. pp 477-479.

Miller, Donald. Blue Like Jazz. Thomas Nelson Publishers: Nashville, 2003. pp 21-23.

Blue Like Jazz p 100.

November 2005 Verses

God is not a human being, that he should lie, or a mortal, that he should change his mind. Has he promised, and will he not do it? Has he spoken, and will he not fulfill it? (Numbers 23.19)

Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter Jerusalem! The Lord has taken away the judgments against you, he has turned away your enemies. The king of Israel, the Lord is in your midst; you shall fear disaster no more…Do not fear, O Zion; do not let your hands grow weak. The Lord, your God, is in your midst, a warrior who gives victory; he will rejoice over you with gladness, he will renew you in his love; he will exult over you with loud singing as on a day of festival…I will save the lame and gather the outcast, and I will change their shame into praise and renown in all the earth. (Zephaniah 3.14-20)

I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ…this is my prayer, that your love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight to help you to determine what is best, so that in the day of Christ you may be pure and blameless, having produced the harvest of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God. (Philippians 1.6-11)

November 2005--Easy vs. Better

Welcome to this year’s showdown! On one side of the ring we have our defending champion: EASY…and on the other side of the ring we have this year’s challenger: BETTER. Who will win? You’ll have to stay tuned to find out. Alright folks, let’s get ready to RRRUUMMBBLLLEE.

Round One

As the kids play during recess at Prescott Elementary School, I see the easy vs. better battle raging constantly. It seems there is a constant “payback” mentality here, a distorted sense of justice. It’s unclear how much of this comes from kids being kids and how much is a reflection of the norms and values communicated by the unspoken assumptions of this neighborhood. If one boy kicks another at recess, the perpetrator soon becomes a victim as the kid who was kicked seeks to inflict pain on the original kicker. And the cycle begins. In all honesty, trying to discourage this kind of retaliation does not make as much sense to me as it used to. If I get kicked and I know how bad it feels, of course I want to make that other person also writhe in pain. If I have to suffer, he should too. Turn the other cheek has no street appeal here, especially in the first grade. As a part-time classroom volunteer, I’m never really sure what role the parents play in each of these children’s education. I don’t know if I am the sole source of discipline or if they are learning most of their lessons from the older kids who hang out on the street. Life here revolves largely around protecting respect—and respect requires defending. Easy wins out most of the time on the playground. It is better every time to do the right thing and walk away, tell the teacher, understand compassion but translating the gospel’s love your neighbor onto the playground is still a challenge for me.

A few weeks ago one of the girls at Girls Club was talking about a funeral she had attended earlier in the day for a 22 year-old man and his 2 year-old son. He had been shot as another chapter in a 3 year-long fight that had enveloped and ultimately stolen this young man’s life. Part of me wonders if what I see with my kindergartners at Prescott reflects these cycles of the streets. The other day at the hospital I saw a t-shirt that said “Snitches get stitches—Death before dishonor.” With messages like this being communicated to the young people of this neighborhood, I often feel very helpless in stopping this destructive cycle.

Easy: 1 Better: 0

Round Two

It is not difficult to remember why we are here—to love God and love people. But easy comes in with a left hook when I’m tempted to convince myself that this has become my life and I can just go about living here like anyone else in my neighborhood. I don’t see any one else going around on a Saturday to meet neighbors. I don’t see anyone else sacrificing time and energy to invest in people, especially when the returns are uncertain. Right at that moment is when better chimes in, reminding me that although this is my life now, I am here to be intentional and committed to pursuing relationships. And it’s more difficult and often less appealing to keep going at it in meeting new people and going deeper in existing relationships but in the end, there’s no doubt in my mind that this is so much better. Easy doesn’t even compare in this situation, given the length of time that we will be here and the eternal rewards of a deep and loving friendship. It’s not that we come with any special gift or amazing ability to bestow upon our unsuspecting neighbors. It’s only that we come with a heart to share the love that God has shown to us and a desire to see hope, joy, and life abundant flood out of this community. In only two months I’ve been impacted in my habits, my speech, and my lifestyle by the ways of this community. Easy wants me to sit around and wait for relationships to be handed to me on a sliver platter but better wins this round easily, opening my eyes to the infinite ways my heart will grow when invested in genuine relationships with those with whom I share my life.

Easy: 1 Better: 1

Round Three

Earlier this month, Leroy Barber visited with the Mission Year teams in Oakland. As the Vice President of Mission Year, Leroy knows quite a lot about being an urban minister. He’s lived in urban areas all his life and understands a lot about what it takes to really become a part of the neighborhood. He challenged us a lot during his brief visit but one of the things that really stuck with me was the idea of being present without judgment. Basically, I realized he was asking us to live here and admit that we have no idea how to live here. There’s nothing easy about that! Easy wants me to sit with my neighbors and think I know what their life is like because I’ve seen a few movies or watched some television shows that attempt to portray urban living. Easy tempts me into thinking that a college education has prepared me to diagnose and theorize about every situation and condition that I see. Better tells me that my two months of living here is not enough to be able to relate on a level playing field with my neighbors, and that I’m a fool to think it is. Better reminds me that as much as I want to blend in here and live the same life as my neighbors, my background and previous life experience prevent that on a very deep level. This is not to say that I will never find common ground with my neighbors or that it is completely useless to be spending my year in West Oakland. Rather it engages me more to realize that every moment is a learning experience and be thankful that I’ve only needed a few embarrassing incidents to realize how little I know. I’m glad that it’s so much better to admit my ignorance and open myself to be teachable—I’m hungry to learn the ways of life here and to adapt myself to healthy and loving relationships with some amazing people.

Easy: 1 Better: 2

Round Four

It’s amazing to reflect on all the things you never knew when you’re thrown into a situation where you realize how much more you have to grow. It’s not so much that I came here and had to re-learn all I thought I knew—it’s more like I’m learning about myself and about God in ways I never even thought of before. Two big areas for me right now are grace and freedom. I’m beginning to see the necessary role they play in my life and the many ways I’ve previously tried to live without them. Grace is not always the easiest thing for me to grasp but I recently heard it put like this: Grace is God acting in my life to do what I cannot accomplish. Ironically, it has always been easier for me to think I was in control, to think I know what the best solution for a problem is. Now I’m living in a place that needs holistic care and revitalization and I’m just little Emily, full of very little power to change much of anything. If I want to see this neighborhood be revived and infused with hope and light, that can only come from God. And when I need the patience to love my teammates day in and day out, that is something that can only come from God. So while it has been difficult for me to understand the gift of grace, there is no question that is infinitely better than the alternative. Relying on grace and living in freedom provide the space for me to simply live and let God do the work here. I can’t dive in and deeply change anyone’s heart, especially my own, to bring about the change necessary to fully live the lives we were created to live. Thank God that He gives grace abundantly and desires to do that work in us in order to refine our reflections of Him in all we do.

Easy: 1 Better: 3

October 2005

October 2005

Reflections from the Front Lines

A few weeks ago a conversation developed among my teammates about how each of us defines poverty. It seemed that one common theme was that poverty is a condition of being without access to opportunity —opportunity to attain resources, opportunity to pursue higher education, opportunity to exit the very cycle that keeps people in an economically depressed state. Through all this, the paradox of my living here is that this poverty has become for us an opportunity—an opportunity to love those who may feel unloved, an opportunity to help those who feel unhelped, an opportunity to be with those who may feel forgotten and remind them that God still cares! I wonder if the people that I know now consider themselves the “poorest of the poor.” I wonder how they see me and the rest of my team.

Our Pastor recently gave a message about taking steps of faith even when God’s whole plan doesn’t seem clear to us. And he shared that it’s probably a good thing that God doesn’t reveal the whole plan to us from the beginning; if we knew all that He had to take us through to get us to the final destination, we would probably resist the journey. It didn’t hit me until a day later that that is exactly what I’ve been going through here. The fact that God wants me to be here is about the only sure thing I know right now. I’ve been facing challenges and going through necessary struggles that I probably would have avoided had I been given advance warning. I’ve been pushed and confronted by my teammates in ways I never had anticipated. I’ve seen new things about myself that I never had the eyes to see before. I’ve been put in situations and faced realities that have been completely foreign. Not everything is pretty and not everything is pleasant—but I’m in this for the long haul. One of the main Mission Year themes is choosing deep and lasting joy over a more temporary fix of fun. And I will have to make that choice day by day, hour by hour, as I go through the stuff that does not always feel good. The work of a transforming heart is often painful! And everything I thought I knew about joy has been replaced with the realization that I had no idea. I am just beginning to understand what it means to pursue deep joy and to taste true freedom through letting go and trusting grace. This is heavy stuff, and that’s why your prayers are so important to me.

As for my schedule, I’m settling into a routine. On Tuesdays, Karrie and I will be staffing the information booth in the ER waiting room at Highland Hospital. This is the main Alameda County medical facility in Oakland and as such, most of the uninsured population passes through Highland at some point or another. On Wednesdays I volunteer in a first-grade classroom and on Thursdays and Fridays in a kindergarten class at Prescott Elementary School. This has been so joyful but so challenging at the same time. I’ve been reminded of my distaste for the task of having to discipline other people’s children but I’ve also gained a newfound admiration for anyone who submits their lives to teaching children. Wow. There is so much need for assistance in both of the classrooms where I’m working and I so long to see each and every student succeed. Many of the students struggle with things that I had taken for granted in the early years so I look forward to getting to know them better and watching them grow.

On several afternoons I head over to World Impact, which is a Christian community development organization that has been in this neighborhood for about seven years and runs several programs for the community. Wednesday is Girls Club for girls in middle and high school. This is a really cool time to just chill and hang out with the girls in the neighborhood. It’s going to take some time for me to earn credibility with them, but my ability to teach them a new skill (knitting!) has helped a lot. Thursdays and Fridays are Homework Club and I get to do more one-on-one tutoring with elementary school kids. On one particularly difficult day at Homework Club I remarked to my teammates how I had observed how readily kids want to give up on tasks that are difficult. And as soon as these words came out of my mouth I realized that this is also true of me—and most people I know, of all ages! Homework is such a beautiful metaphor for the daily struggles that everyone faces—as we learn and grow we have to go through things that aren’t comfortable or easy or things that we are used to but if only we persevere and endure through the difficulties, how much wiser we come out on the other side. What a great gift that life’s struggles and challenges often teach us more about the journey than the destination!

This place has transformed before my eyes. This is no longer the “inner-city.” This is not “the ghetto”…because this is where I live. The inner-city is somewhere else. Somewhere I used to drive through and look suspiciously at all the people just standing around. The ghetto is where those other people lived. Now those people are my neighbors, they are the children that I work with and the adults I see at the corner stores. These are the people who are vibrant and vital in this community. They are the people that make up this neighborhood. Without them, I would not be here. Without them, this place would not be here. And I can see how integrally tied I am to each of these people. And my prayer is that that connection may be made clearer and clearer for you with each anecdote, each story I share.

As I grow this year, I look forward to sharing in joy that growth with you. I hope that the people that I come to know and love here are people you can come to know and love as well. I pray that my stories encourage and challenge you as well. You are no less an important part of this journey than the people who live in my neighborhood. I love you and appreciate all your prayers and support!

In love and joy,

Emily

Praises…

*God’s steadiness and unchanging nature, as the world changes all around us God remains the same*God is speaking through our church and our pastor*Our team is growing together more and more each day*Relationships developing with neighbors, both young and old*

Prayer Requests…

*I want to keep fighting for joy through my trials and celebrations*For our team to continue to grow together*For God’s protection and provision as His hand covers our hearts, minds, and spirit and all the work we do*For God to help me understand what grace and freedom truly mean*For the children in my classes at Prescott, for the girls at World Impact Girls Club*For some neighbors in particular: Mason and Darius, Keisha and Knight, Elgin, Marilyn, Cynthia, Beverly, Cathy & Terry, and Katrina*

P.S. Check out http://www.missionyear.org/ and go to “Our Cities” to see pictures of all the teams in Oakland

September 2005

September 2005

Dear friends and family,

After three weeks of living in inner-city Oakland, I can say that this experience so far has been everything I had hoped for and nothing I could have imagined. I’ve seen things I never thought I would see and witnessed God’s grace in new and exciting ways.

This neighborhood seems very different and at first almost foreign. A pit bull lives next door and drugs and violence are a way of life on my block. But real people live here, get married here, and die here. People here have birthday parties, give hugs, eat breakfast. I have more in common with my neighbors than I’d often like to believe, but I hope this year makes those similarities clearer.

This month has been different from any other month I’ll have here because we’ve spent it mostly in training and orientation. At first I was frustrated with all the lecturing and preparation and I kept wondering if “regular” people moving into our neighborhood would get this intensive of an orientation. I wanted to believe that we could just slide in like anyone else but then it occurred to me that what we are doing here is inherently different than just someone moving in to have a “normal” life. I realized that we are not just “normal” people moving into the neighborhood to go on with our “regular” lives. We are here to live intentionally different lives of radical love and service to our neighbors. All this safety and preparation information is essential so that we can be wise and sensible about the choices we make and respectful about a neighborhood that is starkly different from everything we are accustomed to.

That being said, I feel like my past experiences have given me a good foundation for this year. I am glad that this is not my first experience living in a city and I’m glad that I have previously spent time working with issues of poverty, racism, and homelessness. However, I still have a lot to learn. I have seen real problems in this community, but also real hope. This is far from the comfortable and safe settings in which I’ve lived before, but God is definitely at work in this place and I know that living here will teach me things I could never have learned elsewhere. Already one of my main intentions for choosing to do Mission Year has been fulfilled—being enabled to live in the same community as the people with whom I’m working. There is a ministry called World Impact located about two blocks from our house and they have a community breakfast every Saturday morning. This past Saturday we served over 200 residents of the community in one hour! It has been so nice to be able to serve these residents and then see them later in the day while we are out getting to know the neighborhood. I think it gains us some credibility when the neighbors see us in a position of serving so they know that our intentions for being here are firmly rooted in love.

It has been quite an adventure to re-familiarize myself to living in community, especially community in such tight quarters. Our two-bedroom apartment is approximately 600 square feet, yet somehow our shower schedule always seems to work out. My roommates all bring something very unique and special to the team and it has been exciting so far to grow together and slowly begin to see what each of our gifts are. This is the first time that Karrie has lived away from home and the first time she has lived with anyone other than her family. I have enjoyed seeing Karrie’s strength and have loved being reminded that I have plenty to learn, even from someone who is five years younger than me. Chelsea has a very strong presence and confident voice. Having Chelsea as a teammate has already challenged me to grow beyond myself and what I am used to. Jessica has a gentle presence and she is a really great leader for our team. I can really relate to Jessica in a lot of ways and I look forward to seeing how this relationship grows. Heather is silly and can make all of us laugh at the most ridiculous things. Her passion for the Timberwolves and the state of Minnesota are astounding. And she really hates broccoli.

Apart from spending time in training and orientation, we have also spent several days canvassing the community to find a service site where each of us wants to volunteer. At first glance, I really did not think that this search would prove fruitful in the immediate neighborhood because it just did not look like there were many options. Much to my pleasant surprise, we have found several really promising opportunities and we have been welcomed at each site. Right now I’ve applied to volunteer at the local elementary school and I’m also hoping to help out with the World Impact after-school clubs. I’m really hoping to get some one-on-one time with a few students in order to develop substantive relationships.

My team is partnered with Mt. Zion Missionary Baptist Church and this experience has also been really great. We have received such an enthusiastic welcome from the congregation. The pastor is so intelligent and passionate and challenging; my whole team cannot wait for each new Sunday to come. Jessica, Karrie and I have already joined the choir and have loved the experience so far. It is such an amazing opportunity to be able to participate in the ministry of the church so early in our time here and witness how God is already moving.

Mission Year time moves very quickly and it’s hard to believe that by the time you receive this letter we will have already been here for almost three weeks. I am nearly 1/6^th of the way towards my support goal of $12,000 and I appreciate all the prayers and support that have come in on my behalf. If you would like to make a donation, you can send your tax-deductible contributions, made payable to Mission Year, in the enclosed envelope. Please be sure to designate your donation towards my support by writing my Account Fund ID# (05-0059) on the memo line of the check. Mission Year will send a receipt for each gift given. Do not write my name anywhere on the check, as this may negate the tax deductibility of your donation. I will be sending update newsletters each month and will try to send along smaller e-blurbs in the interim. I would love to hear from you, especially in a letter or phone call. Keep me posted on your adventures and let me know how I can be praying for you!

In Him,

Emily

Praises…

*God has already opened the doors and hearts of many neighbors for us to meet and begin to form really positive relationships*The way God has placed this specific team in this specific location at this specific time*

Prayer requests…

*Safety and protection in our neighborhood*Team unity as we develop a community culture in our house*For grace and love to abound on our team as we deepen our understanding of each other*For wisdom and discernment in figuring out which service site to partner with*For God’s love to be evident to our neighbors*For more neighbors to open their doors to a potential relationship with us*For the city of Oakland*