feelings

My Junior year of high school, I fell into a depression, and a friend introduced me to the power of slam poetry.
As the words spewed from my computer speakers and called me to realize my worth as a human I began to cry uncontrollably. I had found something that was more powerful than the bible, something that gave life to dead bones, and something that has encouraged and sustained me in hard times since.

recently. I have been processing a lot.
So I am trying to write some poetry to help me through that

Here it is: poem 2 || a work in progress

The stamp on my wrist

From the concert where I saw you for the first time in two years

 Still burns

Of course, in a time such as that I would comment on your hair

I was terrified that you would see right through the kindness and sense the fear

I was terrified that in those thirty seconds

You

Would rush back into my blood stream, through my legs and my arms and into my heart

And that I would let you

And I am not ready to let you

I am not ready to let go of the person I have become at a risk of allowing the doubt that you planted

Revive

I am not ready to again feel like the dark part of the lightning bug—the dim and nasty part that people often want to forget exists

While you paint the sky with dancing lights that keep everyone at bay

And far away

From me

I am not ready to be ready to ask you how you have been, to know the pain that existed in your life the pain that I ran away from and knowingly

Left you alone in

I am not ready to see how you withered away in the dust that I left when I hit the gas as hard as I could and sped away telling myself over and over again "you can't save you both, you have to keep yourself alive"

So I let go.

And when I did I thought, maybe someday I’ll be ready again

Ready again to accept that laughter and that squealing appreciation for everything round and shiny and inhuman

Ready again to love your luster and your glow

Ready to tell you how beautiful your hair is when you notice the simplest things about people

And that when you speak, you shine so brightly that everyone else seems to dull 

and that you are electric.

But tonight, I was not ready, and my skin burns with the reality of such fates.

Today I am fasting.

Today, Friends, I am fasting.

I have been blessed with many opportunities this summer to increase my understanding of what my call is and what it means to be a peacemaker. 

My first encounter with this theme of summer was two months ago in the backyard of a fellow Friend, who shared with me that her call is to midwife to others. Not literally, but in the sense that it is her hope to sit with people and help them work through the tensions, the stress, the angst, and to be able to arrive at a mutual understanding. This image of mediation is one I have held onto dearly this summer, and has shifted my thinking away from this idea that peacemakers carry around clipboards and gavels in order to condemn and accuse, but that peacemakers are gentle, and aid in the difficult and painful process of reconciliation. 

This image seemed to serve just fine, and then a week ago Matthew 10:16 was brought to my attention. In this verse disciples are called to be serpents and doves. Peacemakers are not just called to help through pain and offer comfort, we are also called to be engaged in political discourse, to understand the ways of the world, while simultaneously being a prophetic voice for justice one behalf of others. 

So now my understanding of my role was turning into some strange pokemon character: midserdovwife.

This understanding was furthered by a Friend I had the opportunity of meeting with who spoke with me about her new ideas about the blessing of being an outsider. Now. Anyone who has gone on  a missions trip, taken and international communications class, or encountered any sort of learning trip through University Ministries knows that the emphasis that is put on being an outsider is negative. Adaptation and acceptance are key. Yes, you want to be critical, but in country you want to follow the rules, avoid sidewalks, and never question why things are done the way they are. So, given this educational background, the concept of the outsider being a blessing was strange to me. But here is what was so important about what she had to say. 

The outsider is able to come in and look at what is being done and what has been done and give critical feedback about practices or actions or attitudes which are hindering the entire process. Instead of going in and saying "I understand," outsiders are able to go in and say, "I understand, but..." this opened my eyes to an entirely new arena. 

As a peacemaker I am not only called to advocate and challenge for others, but I am also called to challenge those I work with in the same way.

And finally, the cherry on top. I was reminded of the importance of Christ and His teachings of peace and neighbor love. The past Saturday a couple of friends and I participated in a protest for Gaza in Portland. The entire event was emotionally charged, chaotic, and individual. This was the first Palestinian activism I had done in a non-christ-centered setting. And it was hard. It was hard to utter words like "long live the intefada" and "Palestine will always fight" as a pacifist. It was hard to block sidewalks and see fellow protesters yelling at cars or individuals who gave opposing feedback. It was hard to see signs that read "end zionism" or "no more Israel". Because, friends, these are not Christian testimonies. We are called to love our neighbors regardless of how they hurt or insult us. We are called to welcome the foreigner, no matter their past wrongs to us, and we are called to pray for those who persecute us, not to condemn them. 

Before I end this: a quick note on prayer.
Yes, we should be praying for peace in Gaza and Israel. But perhaps, more effective than praying for peace (what really is peace, anyways?) I encourage all of you to be praying for the political leaders of Gaza and Israel, that they would begin to think about the consequences of their actions. Pray for the families who have lost children, who are fearfully living outside their homes. Pray for mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers. And pray for justice. 

I have been so blessed to have my understanding of who I am called to be shaped in so many ways by so many individuals and experiences, and I am thankful for future opportunities to further hone this understanding. As the way opens, you know what I mean?

Today I am fasting because it is a way to stand with those families in Isreal and Gaza and the West Bank who have lost family and neighbors. As it is Ramadan, and today is also a Jewish Fasting Holiday, many people around the world have found today to be a day where we can all begin to seek peace by meditating on the hunger in our stomachs, understanding that we hunger for peace in the same way.

Blessings,
Katie