What's Next?
I have been home for over two months, now. I sense the passing of time mostly through used up journals and candles, and I only just now finished the journal I started when I came back home in February, and I am still burning the same candle I had then. But it feels like it’s been a year since I was in Paris, and then in Lebanon. I’ve been putting off this blog post because I wanted to wrap things up in a nice bow, to make sure everyone had a definitive answer to the “what’s next?” question I get at least twice a week. The problem is that, in some ways, I feel I have less to go on than before I left. That somehow makes sense to me, though. I have always found that going deeper into something important most likely means stripping things away rather than adding on new, shiny things. But after five months away from home, here are a few things I do know for sure:
I love the Middle East.
I love Columbus.
I love multiethnic churches that bring together people from different backgrounds in mutual care and affection.
I love food.
I love leading.
For me, the last part was the real surprise. I’ve been battling the idea of leadership for over a decade, now. I was raised to believe that, as a woman, it was out of the question. I internalized that belief and owned it, to the point where I found it hard to live into any form of leadership when it was given to me. I am still figuring out how to live out leadership in a way that feels right for me, and I’m still figuring out what it means to be a healthy leader. But I now know that leading is always going to be a part of who I am.
I also learned some things I don’t love.
I don’t think anything good happens in isolation.
I don’t think leadership needs to be domineering, intense, or critical.
I don’t think the rich can afford to look away from the crisis of poverty.
The last one is, again, the kicker for me. When I was in Lebanon, I heard a story from a man who was blind. He had crossed the mountain from Syria, a three day trek, in order to register with the U.N. so that he might someday be resettled and have access to good health care. What struck me most, though, was a story he told about a time in Syria when the lights had gone out in his apartment complex. He was about to climb the stairs when he realized another man on the landing was scared because he couldn’t see the steps in front of him. The blind man, accustomed to the dark, held out his hand and offered to lead the stranger up the stairs.
Immediately the thought came to me: I am the man who can see. I was born in a nation of wealth, and I have nearly everything I want at my fingertips: religious freedom, electricity, a bathroom that’s attached to my bedroom. And, as Jesus pointed out – this richness is, in the long run, a disadvantage. When the lights go out in my life — when material comforts and wealth are stripped away — I will be the man, standing at the bottom of the stairs, not knowing how to move forward without the synthetic aid of a lightbulb. We, the rich, have constructed our own light. But what I found in Lebanon, and what most people find when they see true poverty, is that there are some sources of joy that cannot be snuffed out. There are some ways of living that allow us to to cling to hope even when we can’t see. Not only this – but those ways of living feel closer, deeper, more accurate to the way of Jesus.
I am not trying to romanticize poverty. Poverty is awful. Poverty shouldn’t exist in a good world, which is probably why care for the poor is woven throughout nearly every book of Scripture. Poverty is horrific and unnecessary. Still – there are things that the poor know that the rich don’t. There are no veils over the evils of the world when you are fleeing from a war-torn country and no one wants to take you in. There are no veils over the basic sins of ordinary humans, either. It isn’t just the war-makers that create pain in the world – there is a normal amount of selfishness, fear, pride, and anger in any refugee camp you find. Yes, much of this is caused by trauma - but just like if you or I were kicked out of our homes tomorrow and forced to camp out in Mexico, we would bring all of our emotional baggage with us. But like in any other human place, anywhere else in the world, you will also find joy within refugee camps. You will find laughter, affection, and deep, enduring love. I’m not saying that those living in poverty are any better or worse than anyone else – I’m just saying that they know something we don’t, which is that all of our stuff, all of the things we wrap ourselves up in to make us feel safe, they are all at risk of fading away someday. We need to have our roots in something much deeper.
I don’t know what to do about all of that, yet. I don’t know what my plan is. I’m still working through the deep anger I feel that there are so many people in refugee camps that may never get out. I’m mad at how slow our process is in America to bring people in, and I’m mad about how we’re all in screaming matches with each other instead of trying to reach across the aisle and make meaningful change toward immigration reform. There are tons of incredible people already doing this work, and I’m trying to learn from them. But I suppose that’s the goal, and always has been. Whatever I do next, it will be slow and steady. It will be about stripping off the excess – the things that aren’t necessary and that might even be harmful – in pursuit of doing what I’ve always wanted to do: turn off the fluorescent lights and light a candle, instead.
Until I figure out what’s next, I’ll be teaching English with Community Refugee and Immigration Services. I’m going to take it slow, and I probably won’t have answers for anyone anytime soon. I’m spending time with family and cooking new recipes and doing puzzles, because I’m no longer in school 24/7 and I’m reveling in having the time to do what I want. But once I have an update, I will make sure to let you all know. I am so grateful for all the love and support everyone has shown me this past year, and since I’m back in the country I can definitively say - I’ll see you around!