In a Sea of White Faces

This past weekend I was blessed with the opportunity to see my best friend from college Ashley Fletcher. We spent the weekend in Casper, WY, not quite halfway between Manderson and Jackson Hole, WY where Ashley is a nanny. We were able to stay with a wonderful couple, Mona and Milo who are Anderson University alumni and Milo is one of the pastors at the Church of God in Casper. Ashley and I had a wonderful in Casper and it was just the retreat that I needed to recharge my ministry batteries.

On Sunday night I drove back to Jackson Hole with Ashley and then I flew out on Monday morning. I had a layover in Denver and as I was sitting there waiting for my plane I noticed that I was in a sea of white faces. It made me feel really uncomfortable. For the past 8 or 9 weeks I have been in a place where I have been the minority. In a place where I look around and I see beautiful brown faces. Faces that have experienced more pain that I have, faces that see life differently than I do, and most of all faces that I have come to love. It was strange being in the airport as a part of the majority again, I have never felt so alone. I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb, like I was a minority. I looked at the white faces that surrounded me and I felt distanced from them, I felt a yearning to be in a place where there were brown faces, native faces. It was great to come home to Manderson, to rejoin my class. To be back in a place where I look around and see people who I have come to love.

The longer that I am out here the more I feel at home and at peace. God has placed me here not to struggle or to be homesick but to stretch me and to break me. My heart is broken day after day for my students, for my neighbors, and for my community. Today one of the boys in my class called me an idiot. I told him firmly that he is not allowed to speak to adults like that. He told me, you’re not an adult, you’re just a woman. My heart is broken because at 5 years old this little boy believes that women are not worthy to be respected. At 5 years old he has already learned behaviors from some influential male in his life that may lead to a life of abuse. I am heart broken by the harsh realities that such small children live in and yet I am I reminded daily that there is hope. Hope will never be lost and although it might seem small, hope is powerful. The only hope that can bring real change is the hope that is found in Jesus Christ. Opportunities to share about who Jesus is are always present. The other day in class I was given such an opportunity. Occasionally when students finish their work early they are allowed to pick out a book a read it (reading mainly consists of looking at the pictures). One student brought me a book that she had picked out and asked me to read it to her. The book was called, “The Miracles of Jesus.” I’m not sure how such a book came to be in the class room but however it came to be there it must have been an act of God. I read that book to her and another student proudly. At one point the little girl pointed to the pictured and asked if that was Jesus, and I said yes. This student was captivated by the stories of Jesus miracles and how such a man could heal people and bring them back from the dead.

God gives us all little moments to share the love of Jesus with people. We can’t run from these moments because of fear or ignore them but we need to embrace every moment, because we might not get another one. I am learning to love the faces of the people that I see and to share Gods love with them and most importantly not to waste an moment that I’m given.