"Stop! Leave me alone!"

It was my very first day of high school as a 9th grader in Franklin, Tennessee. And it was the very first day for integration in my county. The year was 1971.

Neither school was big enough for all the students, so the oddly curious solution was for us to spend half a day at the white school and half a day at the black school. In the middle of the day we were bused back and forth to switch places.

This plan was insanely inefficient. For most of us, it meant two lunch periods back to back while this time consuming craziness took place.

After my first lunch, I got on the bus for the black school but unfortunately, all my friends went the first half of the day. I quickly discovered the students were not evenly divided between black and white. (Wasn't that the whole point?) The bus was already packed, standing room only - and I was the only white student on the entire bus. Wow.

Not knowing what to expect, I found a safe place to stand behind the bus driver who was also black. I tried to look cool, like I hadn't even noticed the obvious. Truth was, I was pretty scared. Isn't it interesting how we often fear what's simply unfamiliar?

The only other school I ever attended had just two black students in the entire school - Georgia, who was in my class, and her brother who was in another, also alone. As I looked across the mass of unfamiliar black faces on the bus, I couldn't help but imagine that Georgia must have felt the very same way I did in that moment. No wonder she never said a word and always looked so scared. As I look back now, I regret I didn't do more to make her comfortable. She must have been miserable in our all white school. My hope and prayer is that her experience somehow strengthened her and did not fill her heart with hatred and bitterness. It's easy to see how it could do either.

Gripping the pole behind the driver, I steadied my feet best I could as we began our journey to the part of town I had only heard of. My blond hair was long and straight and the girls around me were absolutely fascinated with it. As a matter of fact, I was pretty fascinated with theirs as well. How did they get it to grow in that perfectly round shape?  

All of a sudden, without asking, a group of girls began running their fingers through my hair. They squealed, "Come feel this! Feel it!" Well, I didn't like it one bit. This had to stop. (My personal bubble is quite large.)

When I'd had enough, I flipped my head around and immediately felt my hair jerked and pulled in all directions. Oh my word, I'm being attacked! It turned into quite a ruckus - kids yelling and laughing while my hair was yanked out by the handfuls. Everything was a complete blur as my head was violently pulled back and forth, back and forth. It was incredibly painful. I screamed for help but couldn't imagine who would come to my rescue. "Stop! Leave me alone!""

Suddenly all the violence stopped but not the laughing. I grabbed my head and slowly turned to face my attackers, only to discover no one had even touched me. What? Apparently, when I twirled my head around to stop them from feeling my hair, it had gotten stuck in the bus driver's fan. My hair was whipped into a massive ball of knots. Fortunately, a sweet girl helped to carefully untangle my hair from the fan, but I was left with an enormous rat's nest in the back of my head. It was humiliating but I was also a little ashamed of the conclusion I had jumped to so quickly. 

As I tried to regain some kind of dignity, which was near impossible under the circumstances, I straightened my short little skirt, pulled up my knee socks, patted down my hair best I could, and marched into the black school for the first time, which I couldn't help but notice was behind a tall, metal fence. Was this to keep people in or out? (I later learned it was both.)  

The place was shocking. I could see right away that the black school wasn't nearly as nice as the white school. But how did this happen? Didn't the same people pay for both? It was filthy and needed lots of repair. In fact, there were jock straps hanging from the rafters in the gym - even though they had all summer to get them down. It didn't seem right, that's for sure.

As the year went on, I felt like I was seeing the world for the first time through someone else's eyes, and much of it was troubling. Many things were clearly not fair or equal. And even though there were uncertain, new experiences during that first year of high school in an integrated school (or schools) it taught me some lessons I will never forget, and quite frankly, some lessons I needed to learn.

I am overwhelmed by the tremendous responsibility we have to influence the children we serve at Blue Monarch so their world will be better than the one we have inherited. We have a priceless opportunity that we must not waste.    

A few years ago, we had a little boy at Blue Monarch whose father was involved in the Aryan Nation. This man had passed his terrible prejudices along to his son, who did not hesitate to repeat his father's racial slurs out loud. Even the child's mother wore Aryan Nation tattoos on her chest.

But you know what happened over their time at Blue Monarch? This little boy learned that we are all equal, that God loves each of us the same, and by the time he walked out our door, this sweet child no longer feared or hated people who were black. Even his mother had a total change of heart and perspective.

In this day and time, when it's well beyond 1971 but we're still hearing grumblings about this topic, there is no way to know how differently this little boy might have turned out if he had not learned this critical lesson at an early age and been exposed to a different perspective from people he learned to trust. He may always be challenged through his ongoing exposure to people who feel otherwise, but I have to wonder...is it possible that a future hate crime was perhaps stopped in its tracks because a little boy and his mother had the opportunity to come to Blue Monarch?  

We realize we may not be able to fix racial prejudice, but I'm grateful we have a chance to chip away at it - even if it's through the eyes of one child at a time. May we never forget the massive importance of that priceless opportunity.

    
But the one who hates his brother is in the darkness and walks in the darkness, and does not know where he is going because the darkness has blinded his eyes.  1 John 2:11

    

Greetings from the Belly of the Fish

No doubt, this woman (who shall remain nameless until I go to my grave) has no idea how much she has impacted my life since I met her many years ago.  I once described her as a person who inspired me to accomplish as much as possible before I died, but a friend corrected me and said, “She did not inspire you. She motivated you.”

I often imagine this striking woman getting to the end of her life, looking back, and seeing that she did nothing but get her hair and nails done regularly.  Oh yeah, she does read People magazine, so there’s that. But you can’t even say she raised her children because she got someone else to do that for her.  She didn’t cook, she had no hobbies, she never worked (inside or outside the home), she belonged to no particular group or club, didn’t surround herself with friends, she didn’t volunteer her time, and was not active in a church.  Actually, even though she had the capacity to be significantly philanthropic, to my knowledge she was not. 

Here’s the troubling part, though.  I don’t think any of this bothers her.  She’s perfectly content with things the way they are.  I, on the other hand, worry that she will have terrible regrets one day when she realizes she has done little to make a difference.  The idea of having that late revelation at the end of one’s life is so unsettling to me, it’s frightening, so she just motivates me to do more.  It’s hard for me to imagine that God didn’t ask something of her somewhere along the way, and that her life couldn’t have been much richer.  

Sometimes, when I am out speaking to groups about Blue Monarch, I see an occasional face in the crowd that tells me this person is troubled by the same fear.  From time to time, someone will come up to me afterwards, with tears in her eyes, and confess she has felt for a long time God was asking something of her, but she had run the other way.  This is not just a female thing.  Men have told me the same thing.  Clearly, avoiding God’s request has not brought them any peace, and for some, it has actually crossed over into real pain.  The agony is tangible.  Regret is a terrible thing.

A while back, I decided to read the Bible from front to back.  I know, some people assume because I founded a Christian organization that I should have done that years ago.  But, honestly, I spent most of my life using the Russian roulette system of Bible reading.  I randomly opened it and found the verses that shouted to me in that moment, and then convinced myself God showed me all I needed.  

When I began this project, I intentionally set no time limits on myself so I wouldn’t speed through the Bible just to meet my goal.  I’m terribly competitive, so I resisted the urge to research how long it should take me.  (I will confess, I have loved it so much, I am certain I will begin the process all over again as soon as I finish Revelation.)  

I am often aware that I see the world through a slightly different lens than the masses, and my interpretation of the Bible has been no different.  For instance, when a few of my co-workers were speaking Christianese at lunch one day, I remarked that I had just finished reading the Books of 1^st and 2^nd Slaughter (there’s some brutal stuff in there!) and after reading Psalms, I found David to be quite a whiner.  He’s great!  Then he’s not.  He’s great!  Then he’s not.  And when I discovered God had killed Ezekiel’s wife just to prove a point...well, I didn’t speak to him for two days.  You miss a lot with the Russian roulette system.   

Once I reached the book of Jonah, however, I got stuck.  Although I think Jonah is a bit of a spoiled brat, I have been absolutely fascinated with the book and have read it over and over like a broken record.  I have read every commentary I can get my hands on and it has been fun comparing all the various translations I can find. I will have to say, I prefer the Living Bible version of Jonah over all the others, simply for the first paragraph.  It basically says that God found the wickedness in Nineveh so appalling, it “smells to highest heaven.”  Isn’t that great?  I think I’m going to start using that.  There are lots of things I would say “smell to highest heaven.” 

My affection for the book of Jonah clearly goes back to the troubled people I just described.  Jonah knew what God was asking him to do.  It was a pretty impressive assignment - to warn the people of Ninevah to clean up their act or something terrible might result.  Jonah chose to run the opposite direction. It’s really pretty hilarious if you think about it. Jonah ended up on a boat in a terrible storm, got thrown overboard and nearly drowned, found slimy seaweed tangled around his head, was swallowed by a huge fish (how gross is that?), begged for God’s mercy, and finally got vomited onto dry land.  And after all that, God picked up where they left off and said, “Remember that thing I asked you to do way back then?  Well, I still need you to do it.”  

This coronavirus pandemic reminds me a lot of Jonah’s experience.  In fact, I would say we have been in the belly of the fish, not for three days and nights, but for the past six weeks or so.   People all over the globe are having heart to heart conversations with God right now, reevaluating their choices, reflecting on their lives and priorities, making COVID-19 resolutions, and promising what they will do differently when this ugly season is over – just like Jonah. 

But Jonah’s memory was short, and I hope ours is not.  It didn’t take him long to forget his promises from the belly of the fish and before you know it, he was back to his poor choices and narcissistic self.  For Jonah, it was so important to be right, he actually wanted to die when God spared the people of Nineveh instead of destroying them as Jonah had warned.  The prophet even blamed God for his own initial failure to carry out God’s will.  “See, I knew what you would do – it’s your fault I ran the other way.  I knew you would spare them because you are just that kind of guy.”  (Again, my interpretation.)   

And then, just in case he might get lucky after all, Jonah found himself a good vantage point to sit back with a bag of popcorn and simply wait for the people of Nineveh to hopefully screw up – just so he could take pleasure in their pain and enjoy God’s wrath.  He totally overlooked the joy he could have experienced, knowing that God used him to help so many people turn from their “smelly” ways and totally transform their lives.  That was an honor he totally missed.

If you have ever heard me tell the story of Blue Monarch, I describe how I had a powerful revelation one day when I realized what God was asking me to do.  Just like Jonah, I wanted to run the opposite direction.  I wanted to hide under a rock and not make eye contact with God.  Did God not know I was incapable and unworthy of such an assignment?  Maybe he would forget he had asked me.  I actually cried about it for three days (and three nights?)  Finally, my daughter said something to me that was a game changer.

“Mommy, you can tell God no, and he won’t love you any less than if you said yes.”  

Hmm...how could I say no to a God like that?  That’s when I decided to take a deep breath and say yes.  It’s the moment my life went from ordinary to extraordinary, and even in the most difficult times, I have never regretted it.

I can hardly bear to imagine what I would have missed if I had said no, and I don’t have to look far to see what that could have been.  

For instance, just last week I decided to surprise the women and children who were quarantined at Blue Monarch, with a trunk load of ice cream.  I loaded up every flavor I could find at the store, along with a huge jug of chocolate syrup, and couldn’t wait to see their faces.  I had not seen them in five weeks (except for on a computer screen) and was missing them something terrible.  I suspected it would be hard to respect social distancing when I really wanted to give each one of them a big hug.

What I didn’t expect, though, was that the best treat would be my own.  In that short visit I was blessed over and over.  Heather couldn’t wait to share how the quarantine had enabled her to have some exciting revelations about her new life and sobriety.  Katie, who always has colorful, descriptive thoughts, shared hers as well.  Taylor read me an incredible poem she had written, and every word reached in and touched my heart in a special way.  Jennifer, with her powerful voice, sang a moving song she had composed about her recovery journey at Blue Monarch, as her daughter gazed at her with pride.  We laughed about how Chris, a spunky three-year-old, thought our staff members were in trouble, which was why we had not been there in so long.  Guess he thought everyone except our on-site staff members were in time-out for something really bad.  

Even though those things may sound simple, I wouldn’t trade that one day for a lifetime of what I might have experienced otherwise, if I had said no to God.  And that is what I struggle with the most.  The folks who resist or reject God’s plan are still loved by him, but they miss out on a joy that is greater than anything they can ever imagine.  They are not living life to its fullest and don’t even know it.  

I have to wonder - do they feel incapable and unworthy?  Is that their hesitation?  Well, guess what. That just makes them even more perfect for the job because God uses incapable and unworthy people throughout the entire Bible to do amazing things.  And he uses them today.  

When this pandemic is over and we are spit out onto dry land again, I truly believe God is going to pick up where he left off and say, “Remember that thing I asked you to do way back then?  Well, I still need you to do it.” 

I hope this time he hears a resounding "yes" from around the world - and that it rings all the way to the highest heaven.  Now, wouldn't that be amazing.

And when God saw that they had put a stop to their evil ways, he abandoned his plan to destroy them, and didn't carry it through.  Jonah 3:10

Time to get my big girl panties on...

Blacktop got his name because he was pitch black without a spot of white anywhere.  My husband and I had just gotten divorced and Blacktop was a wooly shepherd dog who joined our little family to ease the transition for my three-year-old.

Mary Susan and I loved him, but Blacktop was a holy terror for the rest of our neighborhood.  We could often hear people screaming from several streets over, “Stop, Blacktop!  Bring that back!”  One day I was greeted at the door by an angry woman shaking a shoe in my face.  “That dog of yours took one of my expensive running shoes,” she yelled. “That dog will even go into your GARAGE to take your things!”  Once she calmed down, she offered to “lend me” her husband so he could teach me how to teach my dog to stay at home.  No thanks. I declined.  (She and her husband had one of those dorky messages on their answering machine where they took turns saying a line.)  I did pay the woman for her shoes, and she was right - they were crazy expensive.

I really didn’t believe these terrible allegations about Blacktop until one day I found a stash in the corner of our yard, way up under the bushes, that could have stocked an entire thrift store.  There were all kinds of interesting (and a few embarrassingly private) items – including the angry woman’s shoe.  Sure enough, there it was.  Blacktop was caught red handed, so I put up a fence.

A few years later, my daughter and I moved to a horse farm and of course, Blacktop went with us.  He was a special part of our family, and thank goodness, he finally had room to roam.  

Running Xanadu Farm as a single mom was often very hard, but I was too stubborn to admit it. If I didn’t know how to do something, I found a farmer nearby who could teach me.  It was physically exhausting, and work started at sunup and lasted until sundown.  There were many frustrations:  farm equipment that broke down at the worst possible time, weather that could make life miserable, difficult boarders who thought their horses were children, and horses that sometimes misbehaved.  There were many times I wanted to give up, but I would tell myself, “It’s time to get your big girl panties on!  You just have to get in there and do it.”

There was a sad day when this was put to the test.  I heard the yelp off in the distance and discovered our dog, Blacktop, had been killed on the highway in front of our property. Naturally, I was heartbroken, and I couldn’t stand the thought of him getting pulverized by more vehicles by the time my daughter got home from school, so I grabbed my pickup to get him.

(Heads up: This is where the movie shifts from PG to PG-13, just in case you are squeamish.) 

I will never forget standing on the highway, crying my eyes out, struggling and fighting to pick up our precious dog’s lifeless body, which weighed close to 70 pounds.  I’m sure I was quite a sight as people slowed down and drove around me.  His fur still felt warm to my face and had that familiar smell.  Oh, Blacktop, why did you have to cross the road?  But as I worked to lift the body, I was disgusted to find that his insides had spilled out of his belly and were strung out for several feet on the pavement, making it even more difficult to move him.  I remember seeing that grotesque sight and thinking, this must be what the Bible refers to as “entrails”.  Gross.

At that moment I knew what I had to do.  Get your big girl panties on!  I reached for my pocketknife that I used to cut baling twine.  With so many tears in my eyes that I could barely see, I stooped down and used my knife to sever Blacktop's body from the parts he had lost so I could shove his heavy carcass into the bed of my truck.  I didn’t like it.  It made me gag.  I didn’t want to do it - but it had to be done, so I did it.  After that, this incident became the standard by which to measure every challenge I faced until a bigger one took its place.

Let’s face it.  This COVID-19 thing absolutely stinks.  It has disrupted our lives in profound ways.  It has turned our homes, which were sanctuaries, into our workplaces with even more stress.  Our favorite foods are scarce.  Toilet paper has become a surprisingly rare commodity.  We can’t see our friends or family.  Weddings and even funerals have been canceled.  Some of us are losing money or jobs, and others are losing loved ones.  Yes, this is a time of true suffering.  

I can’t help but notice - this week, the one experts project to be the worst one yet for COVID-19, is the same week we commemorate the greatest suffering of all time.  Jesus’ death on the cross.  Does anything really compare to that?  The timing is pretty remarkable.

I realize losing my dog, Blacktop, and having to do crude surgery on his broken body, doesn’t come close to the kind of suffering some people are experiencing right now, although for others this season is simply an inconvenience.  Regardless of where we find ourselves in that wide range of distress, we need to find a way for this unbelievable event to make us stronger and better.  If we come out of this unchanged, that will be the true tragedy.

As I have watched people responding to this pandemic, there is one group that has really made an impression on me.  Here they are.

Last week I was having a video chat with some of our amazing women at Blue Monarch who are quarantined together.  (I miss them so much and will never again take them for granted.) I noticed their attitudes were the healthiest I have seen.  As I looked at each smiling face, it finally hit me - every single one of them, and even some of their children, have experienced worse crises than this nasty pandemic.  In fact, some of their stories could break your heart and keep you awake at night.  Even after 17 years of horrific stories, I am still shocked at what human beings will do to one another.

“Hey, let me ask you something.  Have any of you experienced a true crisis in your life?”  With no hesitation, every single hand went up in unison.  Of course, they have.  But they survived it.  And they became stronger for it.  They have raw, genuine faith in God, which gives them great peace.  And they know they will survive this crisis, too.  We have a lot to learn from them.  

After we signed off, I lingered in front of my computer screen, really moved by the joy and peace I had seen in their faces, even in the midst of this bizarre and uncertain crisis.  I was ashamed at feeling a little sorry for myself over the past few weeks.  “Susan, you know what?  It is time to get your big girl panties on and fight through this!”   

My thoughts immediately took me back to those days at Xanadu Farm.  I couldn’t help but laugh because I finally realized, even though I went through some tough times back then, I really loved that chapter of my life because it made me better and stronger.  That's where I learned to get in there and do it, even when I don't want to, even when it hurts - and each one of those trials prepared me for what I do today.  How can I not be thankful for that?

**********

    

Okay, I just now received this photo from Blue Monarch.  Our mothers have been doing a different activity each day to teach their children about Holy Week and this is how they spent their morning.  

Dear Lord, by the time this thing's over, I want to be more like them. Please, teach me how.    

Hold on while I shut my eyes...

Seems like it was only a couple of weeks ago when things had gotten so busy and hectic, I said, “Please, stop the merry-go-round.  I want to get off.”  Little did I know it would only be a few days later when I would get my wish.  I am now off the merry-go-round, like much of the world, and keeping my social distance by staying at home because of the coronavirus.  Hey, I didn't really mean it!

Oddly enough, I have already seen some benefits from this hiatus.  For instance, I know, now, that my husband hates for me to toss dead flowers off the back deck.  And he knows, now, that I would love for him to stop wearing his ratty clothes from high school.  I have also learned that I can’t roll my eyes when I’m standing at the kitchen sink because he can see my reflection in the window.

These past few weeks have seemed very surreal as we have kept one foot in our normal world, going about business as usual, while dipping the other foot in some sort of really bizarre science fiction movie.  It felt like a tedious balancing act that could go either way until at some point last week, we tipped over completely and fell headfirst into parts unknown. 

I’ll admit, it took me a while to grasp the seriousness of what was happening.  I felt like Flu A was saying, “Hey, but what about me? Look at all the people I have killed!”  But when I couldn’t find one potato or one piece of chicken anywhere, my head began to spin.  After all, I was responsible for a campus full of women and children.  What about them?  I’ll admit, it was a little daunting.  Suddenly the toilet paper scare reached a whole new level.  As many action heroes as we have found clogging toilets, I could only imagine if people had to start getting creative.

I was part of a video conference this week with nearly 100 people from non-profits across the country, most of whom were self-quarantined at home. (Am I the only one who thinks that feels like a Jetson’s cartoon?  I get distracted by these rare peeks into everyone’s private homes, and I can’t help but wonder how many are wearing pajamas from waist down.)  Everyone was eager to report on how they were turning lemons into lemonade.  There were some creative ideas to serve more people in slightly different ways, use technology to stay connected with volunteers, and offer networking opportunities to help each other.  But the elephant in the room was that we were all concerned about how the recent events might affect our funding, which would directly impact the people we serve.  

This discussion suddenly brought me back to a time in the very beginning days of Blue Monarch when money was scarce, and I didn’t have what I needed to pay our electric bill.  I vividly remember looking at all our women and children at the kitchen table, wondering to myself, “What in the world will happen to all these people if they have to leave?”  I was in a total panic and thought my heart would beat right out of my chest.  Naturally, I protected them from the truth as if they were my children and kept the crisis to myself.  This fear followed me home that evening where I had a big crying fit with God.  “Why in the world did you ask me to do this if you weren’t going to provide the resources to make it happen?!”

Suddenly, just as clear as day, I heard God speak to me.  “You are the one who makes it so hard – by not trusting me.”  This stopped me in my tracks.  Could that be true?  Had I not trusted him?

I began to realize this was painfully true.  By trying to do everything in my own power, I had not trusted God to take care of us.  He was so right.  After all, Blue Monarch belongs to him, not me.  What was I thinking?

The other day when I looked at all our many families and began to question whether we had what they needed for an extended period of time (including toilet paper!), I was aware that this crisis was quite different.  True, we needed to prepare, but I was not operating out of panic and fear as I had all those years before, when our biggest problem was not a pandemic but a silly electric bill.

In fact, the day our staff left the campus to work from home, with laptops and notebooks in hand, I could not have felt more at peace.  I was proud of how we had prepared our live-in staff members to care for our community in our absence.  I was relieved that we had the technology to continue counseling and holding classes from a distance, so our women didn’t have gaps in their recovery journeys – or feel abandoned.  I was excited about all the fun activities our amazing team had prepared so our moms could engage with their children and bond with each other during this time. 

It was comforting to know that our residents were, surprisingly, not in a panic.  In fact, some were even singing worship songs as we walked out the door.  Kids were laughing on the playground and our dog, Sam, was playing chase with a boy as they raced back and forth across our new land.  In the distance I could see the stakes in the ground marking the magnificent eight-family home we are getting ready to build.  For a moment I could even imagine moms and kids playing on the porch.

As I drove out, one of our graduates passed me in the driveway with news she had been laid off.  I was thankful she and our other WINGS graduates had a safe place to live until they could work again.  I could only imagine how difficult this time might be for them if they were on their own somewhere else.   

As I looked back at our beautiful campus, not sure when I would return, I was overwhelmed with gratitude for our loving God and all the gracious, generous people who voluntarily, under no obligation, provide this beautiful sanctuary and umbrella for the women and children in our care.  This is not the first crisis for any one of them, but I thank God they get to survive this one from a little piece of heaven.  

*******

A few months ago, my husband and I went to the beach.  I love to go in the winter when no one is around.  The power of the massive water and rushing waves are always so mesmerizing to me, I could watch them forever.  But I made an interesting discovery one day.  When I closed my eyes, I realized I could actually hear the waves more clearly. They were suddenly much louder and seemed even more powerful.  I was more aware of the various bird calls and the distant bark of a dog.  I thought, “Isn’t that interesting!  I can see better with my eyes closed.”  

The same thing is going to happen to many of us during this time we have stepped off the merry-go-round.  I am aware that our prayer lists are massive and extend beyond our families and communities to the entire globe.  But I pray we will use this unexpected opportunity to discover what God really wants us to hear.  I suspect we will see him more clearly, and his voice will become much louder... if we will just take a deep breath and shut our eyes. 

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.  Philippians 4:6-7  

The Warrior Just Around the Corner

When I closed the door to my hotel room, I couldn’t help but notice the room rate posted on the back.  My word, it was $450 a night.  That’s what some people pay for a month’s rent. The room was complimentary, and a very generous foundation was footing the bill.  I sure hope they got some sort of special rate.  

It was a luxurious suite, needless to say, and I felt like a queen.  When I flipped on the lights in the vanity area, I was shocked at how amazing I looked, even after traveling all day.  Wow!  Something incredible must have happened to me on the way to D.C.  I look great!

I admired my reflection for a few minutes and then quickly realized it was the special lighting around the mirror - not that I had suddenly become gorgeous.  This really tickled me because I could only imagine how this special effect might potentially impact the people who stay in the hotel.

Think about it.  One might leave the room believing the deceptive “new me” really exists, causing her to react to people with more confidence, take risks that may otherwise never happen, and perhaps even make decisions the “real me” would never consider.  No doubt this might even open doors that could change the course of one’s life.  Did the decorators of this hotel realize the power they had when they chose those soft, rosy lights?

Needless to say, it was quite disappointing to see that I was still the old me when I passed an ordinary mirror in the hallway that didn’t have all those magic qualities.  Darn.  I’m still me.  Well, that was nice while it lasted.

This caused me to think about a phrase that gets thrown around a lot in Christian circles.  "You need to see yourself through God's eyes." Seriously?  Who really does that?  Is that even possible?  Aren’t we simply wired to see ourselves in the real mirror that shows all our flaws with no special effects?  

This is one of the greatest challenges for the beautiful, courageous women we serve.  They are conditioned, and sometimes even taught, to see themselves in the worst light possible.  Perhaps they have been told since they were little girls, they are ugly, worthless, stupid – well, actually you can add almost any nasty word here and it would fit.

   

Naturally, this also impacts the choices they make and how they relate to the people around them. How might their lives be different if they could see themselves through the special mirror with the gorgeous light? 

Shakia is an outstanding woman who is taking my Work Ethics class right now.  (For more about that course check out last month’s blog post.)  As you may be aware, we have a waiting list of over 200 families and many women get discouraged during that long waiting period.  Shakia, on the other hand, had the tenacity to call us practically every single day for a year until we could finally bring her into our program.  Each call sounded as desperate as the day before, and we could always hear her three children screaming in the background.  “Help me, please!  I don’t know what to do with these kids!  I need help!”  

So, Shakia and her three children, all under the age of three, finally moved in.  Man, it was wild.  The kids ran in all directions and Shakia would look at us like, what do I do?!  Honestly, most of the time I was lost for ideas.  What DO you do when you have three kids running in opposite directions, but only have two arms?  She was overwhelmed, embarrassed, and weary.  One day I found the front door of our main house locked and it turned out, Shakia had locked it as one last measure to contain her kids.  I had to break it to her.  “Locking our front door is not the solution.”

One day, shortly after they arrived, Shakia walked across the yard past my office, and I could observe her through the plate glass windows.  Wow!  I stopped what I was doing and leaned back to watch.  Look at that amazing woman, walking with such strength and poise, elegance, and power. I have seen that before, but where?

Suddenly I realized where I had seen this scene before, and I began frantically searching on my computer so I could show her the resemblance. 

Many years ago, I had the wonderful privilege of visiting Kenya.  It was a life changing trip for me, and I will never, ever forget the extraordinary experiences and sights from that journey.  I brought home hundreds of photographs of majestic African wildlife, gorgeous sunsets, and beautiful scenery.  In fact, that trip is where I fell in love with zebras (what could be better than a striped horse?) and actually got a zebra of my own a few years later.  Zelvis was his name.  Elvis with a “Z”, of course.  

But even though I saw some of the most magnificent animals and landscape on the planet, the sight that made the greatest impact on me was that of a Maasai warrior.

Several times throughout this trip, our group would be traveling in the middle of nowhere, with no sign of civilization in sight.  Occasionally, out in these extremely remote areas, many miles from any village, we would run across a Maasai warrior who was completely alone and traveling by foot.  

These warriors would absolutely take my breath away.  They walked with such strength, pride, and great purpose.  They were fearless despite the fact they were alone where safety was questionable.  They held their heads high, their posture was more than perfect, and their countenance was regal and powerful.  I had never seen anyone carry themselves in this way.

That was it!  That was what Shakia looked like to me in that moment. I found an image online so I could show her the power she possessed and how much she had in common with that Maasai warrior.  I printed it out and handed it to her.  She didn’t seem the least bit impressed, she didn’t see the connection whatsoever, but she took the picture and promised to keep it.  “Someday, Shakia, I want you to see yourself like this Maasai warrior because you, too, are a powerful warrior.”

Last week in Work Ethics we observed the video-taped mock interviews from the class before.  These interviews are intentionally scheduled as a surprise before any skills have been learned, so they can truly see how they would do in an interview today.  Many times, the women will return to my office and say, “Man, I nailed it!”  But when we watch it later, they actually bombed. We get lots of fun laughs as they see themselves on camera and discover all the areas that need work.  For instance, there may be better examples of honesty than “not lying on my income tax this year.”

Shakia, on the other hand, actually did nail her interview.  In fact, after teaching this class for many years, she may have done the best first mock interview I have ever seen.  But there was a moment in the interview that hurt my heart.  When the interviewer asked, “What strengths do you bring to the workplace,” it was obvious she was fighting back tears and struggling to answer the question.  What was it going to take for this remarkable woman to see herself the way others see her?  Or better yet, the way God sees her?  I want her to see herself as that majestic Maasai warrior because she is just as amazing.

This week’s Work Ethics class was the one I look forward to the most.  I ask them to come to class with a list of five strengths.  For some, they may only show up with three.  But we will sit there and come up with more qualities and characteristics for each person until we have a list of 20 strengths. For Shakia and Tasha yesterday, we got on a roll and finally had to stop at 24.

It was fun watching Shakia as her list of strengths got longer and longer.  She fought back tears yet again, but I think this time it was because she was beginning to believe us.  She even remarked about the dramatic difference in her parenting, now that her children line up like little soldiers and actually listen to her.  (Another miracle...) Can’t tell me that didn’t take a whole list of strengths!

Last night I went home with a smile on my face because I have a feeling the Maasai warrior in Shakia is about to surface.  I can’t wait to see it happen, because doors are going to start flying open all over the place.  In fact, I plan to lean back and watch because it’s going to be an unbelievable show and I don't want to miss a minute of it.

Hmm...wonder if this is how God feels when we get a glimpse of ourselves through his eyes?  Oh...okay.  I think I get it now.  

The Lord does not look at the things people look at.  People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.  1 Samuel 16:7

"Quite frankly, I didn't think I was that big of a deal."

As soon as the young man walked into my bakery, a whiff of the fog surrounding him took me right back to the 70’s.  He was wearing a worn out t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off at the shoulders, and when he turned around, the back of his shirt displayed an upside-down American flag that had big x’s marked across it with a broad tipped black marker.  I assumed he was there to place an order at the counter.

Much to my surprise, when I returned to the dining room, someone had given him a job application.  Okay, so this will be interesting.  Now I owe the guy an interview.

When the young man completed his application, I sat down to discuss it with him.  He started with a question.  “Do I have to give you my real social security number?”  (Who prefers the fake one?)

I studied his answers and work history.  The first thing that jumped off the page was that he had been dishonorably discharged from the Army.  Had to appreciate the honesty, but naturally I was curious.

“So, why were you dishonorably discharged?”  

“Well, when it started out, I was just pretending to be crazy.  But by the time it was all over, I really WAS crazy.”  A real-life Klinger.

Somehow, I just couldn’t walk away.  “Well, I see that you were an electrician’s mate.  Did you like that kind of work?”

“Oh yeah!  I LOVED it!”

“So, I’m curious.  Why aren’t you looking for an electrical job, working with an electrician?”

He leaned over the table and motioned for me to come closer because he had something private to tell me. The aroma of the 70’s was even stronger now and I couldn’t imagine what his secret might be.  

Then he whispered, “It’s because I don’t BE-LIEVE in electricity.”  He cocked his head and slowly nodded at me, as if he was sure we shared the same radical idea. 

“Well, I hate to tell you, we use a whole lot of it here.  You would be miserable.”

The other day I was thinking back on how many people I had interviewed and employed in my lifetime.  I believe, including my horse farm and boarding operation, my vacation rentals, my bakery/café, Out of the Blue Granola, and Blue Monarch, it’s been hundreds of people.  So, I feel like I have seen and heard it all.  But it was because of one particular Blue Monarch woman that I developed an intensive, 9-week Work Ethics Course that I have been teaching our residents since 2007.

My bakery/café, The Blue Chair in Sewanee, opened in 2000, and Blue Monarch began three years later.  For nine very difficult years I operated both, which was not a good idea.  Needless to say, the fires always burned hotter at Blue Monarch, so my business often suffered.  Thankfully, I sold The Blue Chair in 2012 to a man I will always hold dear, so I am no longer responsible for the amount of onion in the chicken salad, or the fact the business has also become a tavern.  Before selling it, I often used The Blue Chair as a place to employ our Blue Monarch residents, until we later developed onsite employment through Out of the Blue Granola.

Back in 2007, Brandi was a Blue Monarch resident who had become the Saturday morning baker at my business.  It was a pretty important job because this was our biggest day of the week.  On this particular morning, Brandi did not show up for work, which created an enormous crisis for us.  I called to see what happened to her.  She very nonchalantly said, “I had problems with childcare...and quite frankly, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Well, it IS a big deal, you have lost your job, and we will talk about it on Monday.”  In that moment I realized we had a huge issue concerning good work ethics and we needed to solve it – not just for Brandi, but for every other Blue Monarch resident as well.

At that point, I basically developed our Work Ethics Course from all my own bad experiences employing the population we serve.  When I sat down to crunch some numbers and see what Brandi’s negligence had cost The Blue Chair that morning, I began to look at other events involving the women from Blue Monarch, and I soon realized my business had suffered a five-figure loss over the past year because of their poor performance.  

Despite its nasty beginning, teaching Work Ethics has ended up being one of the favorite parts of my job.  A resident does not take my class until she is close to graduating from our one-to-two-year core program.  By this time, she has other intense recovery, healing, and growth behind her, and now she can focus on her future and a job.

This rich course has proven to be very effective in developing successful, conscientious employees.  Like Brandi, we first take an honest look at past work performance and the impact it had on former employers and businesses.  We actually assign a dollar figure to any damage and this often results in tears when they realize the negative impact they had on the places they worked, which is important to understand.  I remember the moment when one particular woman discovered she was the very reason the company went out of business.  She was devastated to learn what she had done to them.  This exercise includes writing a letter of apology, and some are actually mailed because they sincerely want to make amends.  

Then we walk in the shoes of the employer for a while to develop some empathy and see that the boss is not always the bad guy.  (Why is that so often the case? I’ve never understood this.)  Then, we begin to explore unique gifts and strengths.  I love this particular class because we don’t leave until we have a list of 20 strengths for each person.  With every strength we recognize, the smiles on their faces get bigger and bigger.  We continue to explore interests and narrow down realistic possibilities that can become an exciting job or career, not just a paycheck.  Finally, we prepare to do our best in order to obtain that job and keep it.

Back when I did jail interviews myself, I would always ask this question.  “What are your dreams for the future?”  Each answer was the same and came with a blank stare.  “I’ve never thought about it.”

I finally realized, when one has focused most of her life on sheer survival, where is there a place for dreaming about a career or future?  Nevertheless, I continued to ask the question anyway.  I was always hopeful it would plant a seed and cause someone to begin thinking about it.

In my class, however, I get the amazing opportunity to see the light come on for the very first time. The moment when a woman actually begins to truly believe in her heart that she is valuable, that she is capable, and that she can realistically have the job or career that only seemed possible for others.  “Wow.  Maybe I really can do that...”  

Sometimes women in my class have never envisioned anything other than drawing disability benefits, simply because that is what everyone in the family does.  “Hmm...so I don’t have to do that?  Really?” 

I have often wondered if my office literally lights up and hosts of angels begin singing in this powerful moment when they get a glimpse of an exciting future for the first time.  Some women cry, some struggle to hold back a grin that feels out of control, and some sit in a sort of reverent, stunned silence as they gradually process what could potentially happen.  It is powerful.  It is tangible.  You can almost see the ground shaking as they begin to see themselves in a totally new light.  It is overwhelmingly gratifying and gives me chills every single time.  Man, I love it!

For instance, I will never forget the moment Lauren realized she could become a pilot – and she can fly a plane now, all by herself.

Or the day Angela realized she wanted to be a dental assistant, and I will get to see her receive her certificate next month.

But this course has taught me more than anyone else.  All those years when I hit bumps in the road because of the things Blue Monarch women did (or didn’t do) on the job, I always attributed them to being lazy or inconsiderate.  Otherwise, how do you explain an attitude of “quite frankly, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal”?  

What I have learned, however, is this:  when she feels she has absolutely no value, she cannot imagine how her absence makes a difference. If I have nothing to contribute, how can it possibly matter if I am not there?  After all, who would give me something important to do? What she's really saying is, "Quite frankly, I didn't think I was that big of a deal."

As a child, my father told me over and over, “You can do anything you put your mind to.”  In fact, he had me convinced I could be president one day.  I think I was an adult before I realized that probably wasn't going to happen.  I believed him simply because he said it.

Many of the women we serve have also believed things they have been told. Such as, you are stupid, worthless, and ugly - and will never amount to anything.  Can you imagine looking at your future and seeing nothing but a dark, blank wall?

God has given me the amazing privilege to look a woman in the eyes and tell her, “I believe in you. You can do anything you put your mind to.”  And if it works like it’s supposed to, she will gradually believe what I have said...the room will begin filling up with a bright light that only I can see...and best of all - her children might get to hear those same words before the day is out. Yeah, I love my job.

In fact, my class starts in two minutes and I need to greet some amazing women at the door with a handshake.  Who knows...if I'm lucky, I may get to see some bright lights today!

Lord, please help us to show each woman we serve, the bright and amazing future you have in store for her.  Help us to instill a sense of hope in every child, and to teach our moms to always lift them up.  Amen