tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43164462841541700782023-11-05T01:30:29.075-07:00Life through my imperfect eyes......My imperfect thoughts on life and faith in this city.shannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07468697092405995209noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4316446284154170078.post-84313938381375069432009-08-17T16:59:00.000-07:002009-08-17T17:00:31.801-07:00The faith to receive love....“One thought in John Eudes’ conference touched me very much. He said that to respond to God’s love was a great act of faith. He compared it to people who have felt very lonely and isolated, very rejected and unloved during many years of their life and who suddenly meet someone who cares. For such people it is very hard to believe that his or her care is authentic and honest. It requires a great act of faith to accept the love that is offered to us and to live, not with suspicion and distrust, but with the inner conviction that we are worth being loved.” – henri nouwen in genesee diary<br /><br />She’s 14 by age, almost 15 because her birthday is next Friday – the 21st she reminds me afraid I will forget it – afraid everyone will forget it. <br /><br />14 was a rough year for her – kicked out of 3 high schools just her freshman year putting her many credits short of being a sophmore. Two of her sisters got pregnant. Mom lives with boyfriend northside just sporadically stopping by their house southside to pay rent and drop off groceries. Gang drama and boy drama form the backdrop of her days. Stories of getting high, drunk, of being around pointed and loaded guns with bullet holes in the floor of their bathroom as witness. She gets cussed out often and much by sisters, mom, mom’s boyfriend, friends, enemies, and more. She tries desperately to hold onto the friendship with her best friend, to get love from her mom and sisters. <br /><br />Chaos, no structure, harsh words, survival, be tough, characterize her most of the days of her 14th year of life. <br /><br />She went to camp last week. She went to Christian camp for urban youth in southern Missouri. She went to camp just two weeks before her 15th birthday. <br />A great way to mark the end of a rough year. <br /><br />She loved camp. Her counselors loved her. Other counselors loved her. Her fellow campers loved her. Everyone loved her. She’s athletic, knows the cheers by heart, and can dance – all parts of making her a great camper. She was at a place that embraced her – loved her – affirmed her. <br /><br />At first she eagerly accepted such love so freely offered. But as the week wore on she became more and more uncomfortable with the place, the environment. She was uncomfortable with the love, with the stability, it began to seem dangerous to her, began to seem to require too much faith in other people. She began to shut down. She began to loose faith in the love freely offered her. <br /><br />She fought against the stability, fought against the love with stubbornness. She stood in the rain for two hours in the dark of night refusing to speak or move. She refused to eat breakfast or lunch even though her stomach ached for food and was causing her head to ache as well. <br /><br />My heart broke at her resistance to receive the love offered to her, her resistance to receive the stability offered to her. <br /><br />Even in her stubbornness and fighting she held it together – made it through camp without getting kicked out even though she had come close several times. <br /><br />On the way home she found out that her and her sisters were moving northside the day after she arrived home. On the way home the instability and unstructured found her once again. <br /><br />I pray she remembers the love offered to her. I pray she remembers the stability offered to her. I pray she receives the love. I pray she is encouraged. I pray she goes back to camp next year.shannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07468697092405995209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4316446284154170078.post-3071438905373709782009-08-17T16:58:00.000-07:002009-08-17T16:59:15.879-07:00HungerHave you ever been hungry enough that it becomes painful to watch someone else eat while you are not? <br /><br />Have you ever been hungry enough that it becomes mezmorizingly painful to watch someone around you at a sporting event, fair, parade, carnival, mall, or on a bus eat food while you have nothing to eat? <br /><br />Have you ever been hungry enough while waiting for your food in a restaurant that you can’t help but stare at the table next to you that got their food and are shoving their faces but you still have to wait? <br /><br />Have you ever been hungry enough to be tempted to take the food that people have left sitting on their plates at a restaurant? <br /><br />She was hungry too…<br /><br />I had brought a youth I work with to a counseling appointment. While she was talking to the counselor I waited in the lobby. There were two other teenage girls in lobby who had both been there for female exams checking for stds and pregnancy. I could tell from what the two girls were saying to each other and on the lobby phone that their lives were hot messes. One was calling to get a police escort to her mom’s house to get her clothes because her mom had a restraining order against her daughter. The other teenage girl totted around with her two younger kids a girl around 6 and a boy around 9. It was easy enough to see that these two young kids were rail thin and used to being totted around and a part of much craziness. <br /><br />I half listened to the two teenagers loudly talk about their lastest boy drama and half minded my own business. I was texting and reading a book and they vaguely noticed my presence but it didn’t seem to bother them or affect them at all. At one point I remembered that I hadn’t eat lunch but I had an open bag of twizzler bites in my purse so without thinking I grabbed a little handful and started eating them while reading. The moment I popped the first one in my mouth the 6 year old girl who up till that point hadn’t acknowledged me came and stood right in front of me about one foot from my knees. She didn’t say anything just stared and watched me eat. I knew what she wanted and I had to hold my laughter in as I pretended I didn’t know just to see how long she would stand there or what she would do next. She stood there and stared without moving or flintching a full two minutes before plopping down right next to me and giving a huge sigh said “I am sooooo hungry.” <br /><br />At that point I busted out laughing and said would you like some to which she said an emphatic yes. So I gave her a handful of twizzler bites which prompted everyone else in the lobby to jump to their feet and run over saying can I have some too. So there we were all waiting in the lobby while eating our little handful of twizzlers while they all made exagersated enthusiastic comments about how good the twizzlers were and how they were the best candy they had ever eaten and could they have a little more. <br /><br />This thin six year old girl who was so hungry she couldn’t sit by and watch someone else eat fed everyone.shannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07468697092405995209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4316446284154170078.post-89426294833651406262009-04-14T09:40:00.000-07:002009-04-14T09:43:31.344-07:00Good Morning New DaySun shining through my window – the morning greeting me with birds voices as they sing me out of sleep, sing me out of night, sing me into morning, sing me into the sun shining through my window, sing me into a new day. <br /><br />The sun beacons me to set my feet to the ground and dance with thee in the morning<br />The sun beacons me to get out of bed and play with thee in the morning<br /><br />The sun’s warm rays on the carpet under my bare feet like the fine sand on a faraway beach <br />The bird's song in my ear delicate and sweet as to be heard but not disturb as to invite and entice but not to intrude <br /><br />The rays and the voice in the morning, in the dawn, bring a smile to my face that only they will see as I look out my window on this new day. <br /><br />The rays and the voice are too warm and too sweet to deny that good is here this morning. <br /><br />They show me in the morning of this new day that spring is coming <br />Spring is coming to dance and to play <br />Spring is coming to me this morning <br /><br />The suns warm rays carry my hope to me in the morning <br />The bird’s voice carry my hope to me in the morning<br /><br />New day come I have my hope<br />New day I welcome thee with my smile out my window to the street, to the world. <br /><br />I welcome you good morning that carries the good and my hope with warm rays and sweet voice. <br /><br />Good morning new day.shannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07468697092405995209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4316446284154170078.post-74299405475992536272009-04-14T09:39:00.000-07:002009-04-14T09:40:39.820-07:00Good Friday VingetteJesus cried “Father forgive them, they know not what they do.” <br /><br />The girls I work with <br />She gave up her virginity at 13<br />She got pregnant at 14 <br />She got kicked out of 4 schools this year<br />She cussed me out in her lunch room <br />She gives herself to any guy who asks <br />She is failing school<br />She dropped out<br />She doesn’t have the credits to graduate on time<br />She has been arrested 4 times for breaking curfew <br />She has gone to court twice for truancy<br />She steals to get what she needs <br />She disrespects anyone and everyone in her path <br />She’s got two fists she knows how to use <br />She knows a guy who’s got a gun<br /><br />Jesus cried “Father forgive them, they know not what they do” <br /><br />Her dad’s not in the picture<br />Her mom she never knew <br />Her auntie is a crack addict<br />Her uncle is a drunk<br />Her foster parents don’t want her anymore<br />Her grandma kicked her out for the tenth time this year<br />Her dad got deported <br />Her family’s in a gang<br />Her family sells drugs<br /><br />Jesus cried “Father forgive them, they know not what they do” <br /><br />I harbor anger <br />I cuss her out in my head <br />I don’t pray <br />I waste my time <br />I fail to love<br />I fail to do as I should<br />I judge others<br />I am conceited <br /><br />Jesus cried “Father forgive them, they know not what they do”<br />With aching body<br />With blood dripping from his wrists and feet<br />As he hung there <br /><br />Jesus cried “Father forgive them, they know not what they do”<br />While <br />Looking at the people that put him there <br />Looking at the people who beat him <br />Looking at the people who cursed death upon him<br />Looking at the people who denied him, betrayed him <br />Looking at the people who were guilty but uncharged <br />Looking at the people <br />Looking at the people <br /><br />Looking at the people as it was hard to breathe <br />Looking at the people as he throat ached for relief <br /><br />Looking at the people <br />His heart broke for them <br />His heart broke for their sin <br />His heart broke for they were lost, scared, confused, ignorant, wandering, blind, hurting, suffering <br /><br />Jesus cried “Father forgive them they know not what they do”<br /><br />Jesus cried for their forgiveness <br />Cried for their redemption<br /><br />We are the people <br />The girls I work with are the people <br />I am the people <br /><br />Jesus looks at us <br />And Cries for our forgiveness <br />Cries for our redemption <br /><br />Jesus cries for you and for me as he hung there dying on that tree<br />“Father forgive them they know not what they do.”shannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07468697092405995209noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4316446284154170078.post-20951211004293056902009-01-28T13:52:00.000-08:002009-01-28T13:53:01.378-08:00Glimmers of Hope...Glimmers of hope <br /> “Hope chases us. Always.” <br /> Just when I want to give up on people <br /> Just when I want to give up on God <br />Something catches my eye<br />Something catches my heart for a mere moment <br /> I catch a glimpse of hope <br /> I catch a glimpse of goodness<br /> I catch a glimpse of love<br />Just when I feel as if I’m drowning<br /> in the slosh of evil, selfishness, the darkness within humanity <br /> I get a glimmer of hope <br /> I get a fresh breath of air <br />Just when I think I’ve lost hope <br /> It finds me. <br /><br />My friend once gave me the quote “Hope chases us. Always.” <br /><br />Often just when I am fully convinced it does not <br /> It chases me and catches me. <br /><br />These two girls had hated each other for months. <br />They had said nasty things to each other – had threatened to fight repeatedly<br />All over one girl changing the radio station when the other girl’s song was on. <br />Both had been kicked out for a while due to their seemingly uncontrollable hatred towards each other <br /><br />But on this night – there were both here. <br />One came up to the other out of the blue – prompted by no on but herself <br />“I don’t want to fight anymore – can we just drop it? I’m sorry” <br />“ok” she replied sheepishly <br />A hug sealed the truce and love overcame hatred <br />A glimmer of hope. <br /><br />My car had been acting up for a couple of weeks now. I had made an appointment to have my car checked out but knew my car may not make it – knew a breakdown might be inevitable. My friend followed me home from work just as she turned the corner away from my house my car broke down in the middle of the one-way road blocking cars and traffic. <br /><br />A short stocky old woman who lives on the block came out to find out what was going on. She introduced herself as Penny a harsh deep kindness exuded out of her. She grabbed her two grown sons to help us but ended up just handling the situation herself and getting my car to start and then just as quickly as she got my car to start she disappeared back into her house on my block. <br />A glimmer of hope.<br /><br />I had talked in excess to my roommate about my frustrations with work and myself. I was feeling so much self-doubt, so much hopelessness, and so much darkness all around. She handed me a letter out of the blue and told me to read it later. I waited a day and half to read it. But eventually read it alone in the house I was house sitting at for the week – it spoke words of great encouragement and truth. <br />A glimmer of hope. <br /><br />There are so many more glimmers - a short email from a friend, a text from a youth who asks me how I’m doing, a youth who wants to buy me taco bell instead of me buying hers all the time, a youth breaking up with her boyfriend because he wanted sex and she didn’t, a youth finally living with someone who cares about her… <br /><br />All of these are my glimmer of hope. <br />All of these are hope chasing me and catching me again and again.shannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07468697092405995209noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4316446284154170078.post-48537268251757242152009-01-28T13:50:00.000-08:002009-01-28T13:52:20.415-08:00My thoughts on Inauguration Day......Inauguration Day. <br />I have never cared so much. <br />I have never seen so many Americans care so much. <br /><br />2 miles of people packed in front of the white house. <br />All to be part of the celebration. <br />All to be a part of this Inauguration day. <br /><br />The 44th President of the United States of America was inaugurated today<br />Barack Obama<br /><br />Barack Obama – the son of a father who was Kenyan immigrant and a single white mother who raised him. <br /><br />I have never felt so much hope for our nation and our world<br />I have never felt very patriotic – but today <br /> Sitting in a packed community center – packed with people of all races and ages, gender and economic status – together watching the inauguration <br /> I was surrounded by my fellow Americans <br /> I felt connected to them – by nationality but more than that<br /> I felt connected to them by hope, by shared humanity, by inspiration <br /><br />Elderly women both black and white around me cried tears of joy, awe, and hope. <br /> I felt the tears well up in my own eyes at the sight of theirs. <br /><br />Two African American men later shared in bible study at church about how their experiences of segregation growing up in the south many years ago deepened the significance of today, punctuated how far we’ve truly come. <br /> I desire to the know depth of the significance as these two wise men do. <br /><br />We have overcome so much – I must admit. <br />We have so much yet to overcome – I must admit. <br /><br />America’s first black president was sworn into office <br /> Just 60 years after segregation. <br />An African American man became the highest elected official in America<br /> He and his family took up residence in the White House <br /> A house that was built by African-American slaves in our history. <br /><br />The slave has overcome, has been set free, and is now leader of the nation. <br /><br />Today we as a nation watched as the man we peacefully elected <br /> Inspired us to believe that hope still exists for us<br /> We still have a future to believe in <br /><br />Today, surrounded by all kinds of people – I feel connected to <br />Today I believe that good can overcome evil. <br />Today I see how far we’ve come. <br />Today I see that we have overcome so much. <br />Today I have hope that we can overcome. We can continue to overcome. <br /><br />We can overcome. We can continue to overcome. <br /><br />Just last night at a Martin Luther King Jr. celebration at my church we all joined hands and sang the song “We Shall Overcome” <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">"We shall overcome, we shall overcome,<br />We shall overcome someday;<br />Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe, <br />We shall overcome someday.<br /><br />The Lord will see us through, The Lord will see us through,<br />The Lord will see us through someday;<br />Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,<br />We shall overcome someday.<br /><br />We're on to victory, We're on to victory,<br />We're on to victory someday;<br />Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,<br />We're on to victory someday.<br /><br />We'll walk hand in hand, we'll walk hand in hand,<br />We'll walk hand in hand someday;<br />Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,<br />We'll walk hand in hand someday.<br /><br />We are not afraid, we are not afraid,<br />We are not afraid today;<br />Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,<br />We are not afraid today.<br /><br />The truth shall set us free , the truth shall set us free,<br />The truth shall set us free someday;<br />Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,<br />The truth shall set us free someday.<br /><br />We shall live in peace, we shall live in peace,<br />We shall live in peace someday;<br />Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,<br />We shall live in peace someday."<br /><br />Standing there holding the hand of a 14 year old African American girl I work with singing this song – a girl who has been dealt such a rough hand in this life – the overcoming seems so far off, seems like victory will never come. <br /><br />Today I know it will, day by day, step by step, little victory by little victory. We shall overcome.shannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07468697092405995209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4316446284154170078.post-66422746266514935872009-01-28T13:42:00.000-08:002009-01-28T18:20:11.477-08:00"Don't stress"I’m so glad that God has a sense of humor – I’m so glad that God doesn’t take me too serious even and especially when I take myself too serious. <br /><br />God’s humor is humbling without embarrassment. <br />God’s humor teaches without scolding. <br />God’s humor allows me to laugh at myself. <br /><br />I was stressing about nothing. I was stressing as I was driving down the road – the stress causing me to curse, become angry, and drive like a maniac. <br /><br />I had overcommitted myself and I was running late. I needed to a pick a girl up from school and drive her home and pick up another girl from school and take her to her counseling appointment. <br /><br />I didn’t want to be late for either – my huge pet peeve over not being late spilling forth with no one around – I was frustrated and stressed fearing my being late and letting both girls down. <br /><br />I ashamedly admit that I was completely overwhelmed with this silly stress – this insignificant unnecessary stress. <br /><br />Then on my way to get the first girl from school to bring her home she sent me this text from a friends phone:<br /> “don’t stress shanna it’s not a big deal” <br /><br />All I could do upon reading this text was laugh out loud to myself in my car. This text felt like it was sent to me by God with a smile on his face and his humor all around. <br /><br />With my laughter my stress left and was gone and I did all I needed to do with time to spare. <br /><br />It’s so funny how I take myself far too seriously and sometime I need God to remind me to lighten up, to laugh, to let the stress over nothing go.shannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07468697092405995209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4316446284154170078.post-71916887591048402572008-12-30T15:17:00.000-08:002008-12-30T15:19:28.639-08:00Dancing light in the air of the dark night…..“Dance, when you’re broken open<br />Dance, if you’ve taken the bondage off<br />Dance, in the middle of the fighting<br />Dance, in your blood<br />Dance, when you’re perfectly free.” <br /> -rumi (quote sent to me from my friend Chelsea)<br /><br />I love the way the colored lights dance in winter’s night air. <br />I love the way they are suspended – floating in the peaceful dark of night <br /> The trees on which they hang become invisible at night <br /> The lights are left visible – left to dance in the darkness<br />The lights sparkle, twinkle, delight in the season, delight in Christmas time<br />The lights dance at night – care free they float, care free they shine <br />Unbothered by the freezing air – air cold enough to chap the face and burn the lungs<br />The lights dance in the air of the dark night – for their own delight – mostly no one watches – mostly no one notices – but even when one does they are unbothered – unchanged.<br /><br />Dance on lights in the darkness<br />Dance on Christmas sparkle in winter night <br />Dance on and let me notice, let me watch, let me share in your freedom, in your delight.shannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07468697092405995209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4316446284154170078.post-68339048884765294552008-12-15T19:53:00.000-08:002008-12-16T06:42:21.127-08:00Spring StreetLyrics to Keith Naylor's Song: Spring Street <br /><br />"Hey mister do you have a dime?<br />Do you have a dime? <br />That’s all I need for my train fare. <br /><br />I lost my job and my wife’s real sick <br />And my baby owes more than I can pay<br /><br />And I smell the scent of Listerine <br />And the baby steps of a well planned scheme <br /><br />And I wonder<br />Oh I wondered why my God is here, <br />I wondered why he needed a beer in the winter<br /><br />Hey Jesus with your worn out clothes <br />And your scattered mind <br />What you doing on Spring Street? <br /><br />Of all the people you could be <br />Do you have to be a disguise so distressing? <br /><br />So I held out my hand to my new found friend <br />Side by side we walked to the Crystal<br /><br />As we talked and as we ate <br />He forgot his scam and I lost my hate for the winter <br /><br />I smelled the scent of love unseen <br />The longing of a heart that clean <br />And I wondered <br />I wondered why my God was here, <br />I wondered how he took my fear <br />Yes I wondered<br /><br />Hey Jesus with your worn out clothes <br />And your scattered mind <br />What you doing on Spring Street? <br /><br />Of all the people you could be <br />Do you have to be a disguise so distressing?<br /><br />Hey mister do you have the time? Do you have the time? <br />I think I’m late for my train here<br />Thank you so much you’ve been more than kind and if you don’t mind <br />Could you spare me a nickel? <br /><br />I spelled the scent of Listerine <br />And I gave the man the last of my change and I wondered<br /><br />I wondered why my God was here<br />I wondered why he let me near <br />Yes I wondered <br /><br />Hey Jesus with your worn out clothes <br />and your scattered mind <br />what you doing on Spring Street? <br /><br />Of all the people you could be <br />Do you have to be a disguise so distressing?<br /><br /><br />I turned and walked away to my car <br />Met a man I had seen before and he asked me <br />Hey mister do you have a dime? Do you have a dime?" <br /><br />Living in the city people often ask me for dimes, or quarters, or nickels, for bus fare to somewhere they desperately need to go. If i have any change on me (often I do not) I usually give it. People often say its stupid to give them change - that they are just using me, manipulating me, scamming me. I guess I figure its just a quarter or a nickel or a dime. I guess I figure I'm okay if they are using me, manipulating me, or scamming me because that's not for me to judge - I am to give what I have and often feel guilty I do not give more. Jesus asks us to give more than is asked of us - a quarter, dime, or nickel doesn't seem like much at all especially when that's all they are asking for and to be honest i don't give more.shannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07468697092405995209noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4316446284154170078.post-60532696779354057472008-12-15T19:52:00.000-08:002008-12-15T19:53:21.338-08:00Brokenness doesn't fit into boxesI work with urban youth. Youth that have the odds against them, youth that have had to lived through more evil than I know, youth that are desperate for love, for attention, youth that astound me with their resiliency, youth that have protective walls built around their hearts like mighty fortresses. <br />The non-profit I work for talks about how we need to quantify our positive results of our program. We need to prove with numbers the positive life change our program has created in the youth, we need to prove with numbers how we have “helped” youth in our program to be successful. <br /> <br />But brokenness never fits into boxes. <br />Brokenness never fits into numbers. <br />Just as life doesn’t fit into boxes either. <br /><br />Life change in never linear the the outlines of a box. <br /><br />Brokenness never comes out at convenient times, in convenient ways. Brokenness instead comes out when I’m dropping a girl off after programming and she tells me about her aunt who is her guardian who is an angry drunk, who smacked her the other night several times so she had to have her sister come and pick her up and take her to St. Paul for the night resulting in her missing school. It was while dropping her off at home, when I was in a hurry to get home myself on a Friday night that she shares with me that her aunt gets drink every other night. <br /><br />Brokenness never fits into boxes – I have a one to one with a girl and she tells me everything is okay, everything is fine. But later that night after programming and I’m dropping her off last, upon her request, she tells me that she’s dreading thanksgiving because she has to see her mom (she lives with her aunt) who told her she had stopped drinking but she found out that was a lie when her mom called her drunk twice. <br /><br />Brokenness never comes out at convenient times, in convenient ways. It comes when were having a community thanksgiving in my house with 30 people and she tells me they don’t have any food in their house, they’re not celebrating thanksgiving, and her aunt broke her leg when she fell down the stairs while she was drunk. <br /><br />Brokenness doesn’t fit into boxes – easy to take care of, easy to help, easy to organize, instead brokenness is messy, spills out of boxes, seems insolvable, calls for attention when one is tired, when one doesn’t want to deal with it, when one isn’t expecting it to spill out. <br /><br />But therefore, I must try to be open to the messiness, the inconvenience of it’s presence, I must try to be okay with its intrusiveness, I must try not to be overwhelmed with the lack of solutions or my inability help. <br /><br />Because just as brokenness doesn’t fit into boxes, neither does anything else in life. Love doesn’t, healing doesn’t, growth doesn’t, instead love, healing, and growth seem to be present and happen in unexpected moments, at unexpected times, in ways outside of the box.shannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07468697092405995209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4316446284154170078.post-23661799153101813652008-12-15T19:46:00.000-08:002008-12-15T19:51:09.239-08:00Late Night Call The phone rang at 11pm last night while I was up talking to my housemates. I looked at my ringing phone and debated with myself if I would pick it up or not. I knew it was a youth – I didn’t know which one but I knew it was a youth calling me – for they call me at all hours of the day and night. I hesitated to pick it up – I wondered what crisis awaited at the other end – I wondered what frantic youth was calling me this time. I hesitated to pick it up not sure if I was ready to help in another crisis because the crisis often seem endless. <br /><br />Finally on the last ring – I decided to pick it up – it’s better to know than to wonder. <br /><br />“Hello?” <br />“Hi Shanna.” She said warmly and completely calm. <br />“Hi, what’s up? How are you? Are you okay?” I ask trying to get to the root of the crisis as quick as possible, to find out what’s going on. <br /><br />“Nothing, I’m good. I’m sorry to call you so late but I just wanted to call and tell you I’m sorry again. I feel really bad about what I did and I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” Total remorse and sincerely in her voice. <br /><br />I was completely caught of guard. I was completely touched by her apology. She was referring to Tuesday night when she accidentally shut my fingers in the door (they’re fine by the way – just hurt a little). She felt so badly about it that she had already apologized about it on the way home but just wanted to call me again to tell me she was sorry. She told me she couldn’t go to sleep till she called and apologized and made sure I was okay and wasn’t mad at her. <br /><br />I reassured her I was fine, reassured her that I wasn’t mad at her, and reassured her that I forgave her. I told her how much her call meant to me, how amazing I think she is and hung up the phone. <br /><br />The total late night phone call lasted 2 minutes. <br /><br />I hung up phone completely touched by her late night phone call. This girl has so much craziness in her life, so much constant crisis. But she called to apologize, to make sure I was okay. I was touched by her love, by her care, and by her late night call. <br /><br />shannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07468697092405995209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4316446284154170078.post-31720016582682061562008-12-03T09:06:00.000-08:002008-12-03T09:07:13.131-08:00First Chance.....My pastor last Sunday talked about a documentary he had seen entitled “Homeboy Industries” which was about this priest who tried to help men in LA who had rough pasts, men who had spent time in jail, done drugs, been alcoholics, men who had a hard time getting jobs because of their pasts. This priest spends his days working with these men helping them to secure jobs and more than that get a secure hold on their lives. <br /><br />In the documentary the interviewer asked the priest – “So you believe that every person deserves a second chance?” The priest answered, “Yes I do, but most of the men I work with have never been given a first chance.” <br /><br />This response struck me. This response I think rings true for many of the youth I work with – they have never been given a first chance – life has not offered them a first chance. <br /><br />They have not been given a first chance to succeed, to love, to walk down a healthy path, to not give their bodies away, to not do drugs, to not drink, to not steal, to not believe their worthless, to not believe they can be loved apart from sex, to not believe that they are capable of good. <br /><br />Instead these youth were born into families without fathers, mothers, into families held captive to drugs, alcohol, poverty, and sex. These youth were born into families of generations of people who weren’t given a first chance. <br /><br />I do believe that all people deserve a second chance, but I think so many that we think need a second chance were never given a first. I want to help them have a first chance.shannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07468697092405995209noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4316446284154170078.post-86581836938988968502008-12-03T09:05:00.000-08:002008-12-03T09:06:11.594-08:00Orphans of my Hood......An elderly woman of the church stood up last Sunday and told the story of two Americans who were working with women in Rwanda. One day they were all sitting in a circle and going around the circle with each woman stating how many children of her own she was caring for and how many orphan she was caring for. The number of children these Rwandan women were caring for was staggering especially with such little resources. The last Rwandan woman in the circle to share turned to the two American women and poignantly asked “How many orphans are you caring for?” <br /><br />How many orphans am I caring for? <br />How many orphans am I caring for in my hood? <br /><br />How am I loving, reaching out to, caring for, having visible compassion for the children in my neighborhood who are like the orphans of Rwanda, the children who feel alone, who feel unloved, who feel abandoned, who need love, who need to be touched and cared for, who need someone to “suffer with” them? <br /><br />How many children am I caring for here in South Minneapolis?shannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07468697092405995209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4316446284154170078.post-42914147996243944332008-11-13T09:14:00.000-08:002008-11-13T09:15:29.060-08:00HopeHOPE<br /><br />What does hope look like, feel like? <br />How does one possess it? <br /><br />Is it an attitude?<br />Is it a person? <br />Is it optimism? <br /><br />Hope – <br />That love will win in the end<br />That redemption will come<br />That the pain and suffering is not3 in vain<br />That the hurting will stop<br />That there is greater beauty to behold<br />That the greatness within them will be released<br />That they will reach their potential<br /><br />Hope – <br />The sun will come after the rain<br />The warmth will come after winter<br />The smile will come after the tears<br /><br />Hope-<br />We are not alone<br />We are loved without strings <br />God is present <br />God is present in the midst of suffering<br /><br />Hope- <br />The poor possess more than the rich<br />The wounded have greater depth than those scar free<br />Loving others is always worth it <br />The hard road has greater meaning <br /><br />Hope- <br />I do not have to carry the burdens of the world alone<br /><br />Hope-<br />The sun rays bursting through the clouds<br />The belief in remaining goodness <br /><br />Hope- <br />In the Lord<br />In Christ <br />In God <br />In his unfailing love<br />In his word<br />That he will continue to deliver us<br />In the living God <br /><br />Hope- <br />Of Glory <br />Of salvation<br />Of eternal life <br /><br />Hope-<br />always waiting for that which is far off<br />not to be seen but believed<br /><br />Hope- <br />Produced by suffering <br /> Suffering produces perseverance which produces character which produces hope. <br /> <br />Love always hopes!shannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07468697092405995209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4316446284154170078.post-12898751822129304472008-11-13T09:11:00.000-08:002008-11-13T09:14:13.169-08:00The Sea of Need for Love and Affection....“How little do we really know the power of physical touch. These boys and girls only wanted one thing: to be touched, hugged, stroked, and caressed. Probably most adults have the same needs but no longer have the innocence and unself-consciousness to express them. Sometimes I see humanity as a sea of people starving for affection, tenderness, care, love, acceptence, forgiveness, and gentleness. Everyone seems to cry: ‘Please love me.’ The cry becomes louder and the response so inaudible that people kill each other and themselves in despair. The little orphans tell more than they know. If we don’t love one another, we kill one another. There’s no middle road.” – henri nouwen p. 44<br /><br />It’s not a new thing to be overwhelmed by the needs of the girls I work with. In facts it’s a normal thing – something I think for the most part I’ve become used to. <br /><br />But there are moments or days or weeks when the need overwhelms me – causes my head and stomach to ache – causes tears to flow from my eyes….. <br /><br />This past week was one of those weeks…… those weeks that break my heart, that cause me to cry out to God and ask WHY? To say DO SOMETHING GOD! To wonder if God is using me for anything at all? <br /><br />This was one of those weeks that causes me to cry out to God WHAT IS THE POINT? WHERE ARE YOU? <br /><br />It started on Monday – met with 2 girls – one is depressed, failing classes because she’s too depressed to have motivation to do the work, spends large amounts of time alone in her room letting herself sink deeper into her own despair. The other one lives in a house too full of junk to move with her elderly auntie and grandmother and an older cousin who just moved in and only speaks harsh words to her – her only current goal is to be out of the house as much as possible. <br /><br />Then came Tuesday – met with 2 girls – one who’s dad is choosing to love his girlfriend over his own daughter – the other who’s mom is in rehab and lives in a crack house. <br /><br />support group night – where one 14 year old girl shared about having sex this past weekend – her second time ever. She shared about feeling like a hoe – shared that she thinks herself a hoe now – she shared that she doesn’t really love the guy and he doesn’t love her either – everyone else joined in about what defines a hoe and who is one and who is not – 2 more girls sharing about sex they’ve had recently and one who going to soon – another girl talked about getting drunk with her friend and her friend’s parents, she’s severely diabetic and too much alcohol could literally kill her – but she doesn’t really care about that too much. <br /><br />Then came Wednesday – met with 4 girls – one talked about smoking weed every other day – smoking crack once or twice – and wanting to smoke mushrooms soon – one talked about her 16 year old cousin dying the week before and her aunt who is in a coma – one talked about her brother’s gang involvement and one talked about being deeply involved in a gang throwing up signs and what not. <br /><br />Then came Thursday – met with 4 girls – one got kicked out of her dad’s house and so she’s living with her friend at the time being – one who says all the time that she’s a bad kid, who sees herself as no good – one who plays she’s dumb and innocent but messes with sex and other things to fit in – one who talks incecently constantly calling for my attention like a 2 year old who wants someone to watch her say her abc’s <br /><br />So much need – so much more than is ever shared with me – so much more than is ever recognized – but there nun-the-less. <br /><br />But what am I to do in a world of need, in a world of hurts so deep, wounds so fresh, cries so deafening, so many hands outstretched to be grasped, <br /><br />The sea of need for love and affection is so great – that all I can do with writh with the pain and weight of it all and cry to God on their behalf.shannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07468697092405995209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4316446284154170078.post-61724770870651307222008-11-13T09:09:00.000-08:002008-11-13T09:10:39.067-08:00Their Hauntings......Their stories are their hurts which are their hauntings.<br /><br />They replay the horror over and over again in their minds. They relive the horror inside their heads daily even now several years after they experienced it. <br /><br />They hate the dark, they hate being alone, both of which allow the haunting to come stronger <br /><br />All their hauntings involve guns, shooting, blood, and death. <br /><br />For one it was hiding with her aunt in her bathroom downstairs when the intruders, the enemies came and shot and killed her uncle. She remembers the sound of the gun shots, she remembers the screams, she remembers sight of her uncle’s dead body lying on the floor and the blood around him. <br /><br />For one it was riding the back seat of her cousin’s car with her dad and little cousin by her side while her older cousin and his girlfriend were in the front. She remembers the other car pulling up and her dad lying on top of her and her cousin to protect them. She remembers the sounds of the gun shots, she remembers the screams, she remembers the sight of her older cousin’s dead body lying on top of the steering wheel and the blood coming from her dad’s shoulder that had been shot. She remembers that moment every time she sees the scar on her dad’s shoulder to this day. <br /><br />For one it was hiding with her aunt in the kitchen when the intruders, the enemies came and shot up her house. She was too young to remember many details but she does remember the sound of the gun shots, the sound of the screams, and the sight of the blood coming from wounds. <br /><br />These girls are haunted by these memories – these sounds and sights that cause them to lie awake at night in fear – fear in the darkness – fear of death, the death of themselves or close family members – memories that cause them to have violent nightmares when sleep finally does come. <br /><br />One girl who is haunted made the comment “people just can’t let stuff go.” But it’s nearly impossible to let something go that haunts you, that has haunted you since you where a small child.shannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07468697092405995209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4316446284154170078.post-48723824606462892112008-11-13T09:08:00.000-08:002008-11-13T09:09:19.951-08:00Tangled Web of Desired LoveShe adores her older brother, worships her brother, desires love from her brother<br />She would do anything for him if it would cause him to love her<br /><br />She wants male affection, doesn’t really matter who it is, just someone to tell her he love her, to help her believe that there is someone that loves her<br />She would do anything for him, any him, if it would cause him to love her. <br /><br />Her brother wanted sex, didn’t care about love just sensual pleasure. <br />He asked her to arrange it with her best friend <br />No true love to give to either – just pleasure for himself. <br /><br />She did it for her brother, for his love<br />She did for her best friends brother, for his love, <br /><br />Both gave in one to her brother the other to her best friend’s brother –<br />Both left without love <br /><br />The desire left unfulfilled, a sexual act done, and a sister who offered her brother her best friend for sex. <br /><br />This is the tangled web of desired love.shannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07468697092405995209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4316446284154170078.post-21250164976032115942007-02-19T12:07:00.001-08:002008-09-19T07:54:34.528-07:00Light.In Sunday school yesterday my Sunday school teacher asked <br />“What stamp of God in our lives makes it evident we are from God?” <br /><br />This question really struck me. I wondered when a non-Christian looks at me what stamp of God do I have that makes it evident that I am from God. <br /><br />When this question was asked my class a woman in the back answered by stating that she has been told by others that there is a light in her eyes and in her face that makes it evident that she is from God. <br /><br /> I wonder is there really a light that God stamps upon our faces that makes it evident that we are from God? <br /><br />What if this is true? What if my face a light in it that is evidence to the world that I am from God? What is the significance of light? <br /><br />I have always been fascinated by light. I have always been intrigued by light. I seem to notice the way that light reflects off of things, the way the sun reflects off water, or a building, the way light hits the grass, the sky, the people walking on the sidewalk. I love gazing upon the sunrise in the morning and the sunset in the evenings. Light is captivating to me. <br /><br />Maybe it’s that I like the triumph of light. Darkness cannot not hide in light. Light always penetrates darkness. Light always wins. <br /><br />Jesus tells us that we are the light of world, we are a city in a hill that cannot be hidden. Maybe that light shines most brightly in our faces. Maybe that is why the power of a smile is so great because light then reflects of our teeth and leaks out of our mouths and cheeks. <br /><br />As I was reading through Acts last night before I went to sleep I was still thinking about this whole light shining through our faces thing. I was reading about Stephen and God, I read Acts 6:15 as it states, “All who were sitting in the Sanhedrin looked intently at Stephen, and they saw that his face was like the face of an angel.” I think there was light shining through his face. I think that a light that God stamped upon Stephen’s face made it completely evident to all around him that he was from God. <br /><br />So the question is raised… Can I see this light in the faces of my fellow Christians? Can I see this light in my own face? Can others?shannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07468697092405995209noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4316446284154170078.post-8674175196305180982007-02-18T11:00:00.000-08:002007-02-19T10:36:53.988-08:00St. AugustineSt Augustine once said: <br /><br />"We are His temple, individually and collectively, since He condescends to dwell in each one and in the whole body, being no greater in all than in each, since He is neither expanded nor divided. Our Heart when it rises to Him is His alter. The priest who intercedes for us is His Only-Begotten Son. We sacrifice blood-stained victims to him when we fight for His truth at the loss of our own blood. To Him we offer the sweetest incense when we come before Him burning with Holy and pious love; to Him we devote and surrender ourselves to His gifts in us; to Him, by solemn feasts and on appointed days, we sanctify the memory of His benefits, so that neither time nor ungratefulness should creep up on us; to Him we offer on the alter of our heart the sacrifice of humility and praise, kindled by the fire of burning love. This is all so we may see Him, as far as He may be seen, and that we may cling to Him, cleansed from all stain of sins and evil passions, being consecrated in His name. Therefore, his the fountain of our happiness, and the aim of all our desires, being attached to Him - or rather re-attached since we formerly detached ourselvesand lost hold of Him - being, I say, re-attached to Him, we are drawn towards Him by love, that we may rest in Him, and find our blessedness by attaining that goal." <br /><br />Where is this love in us today? Where is this love in me today? Where is this passion in us? Where is this passion in me? Oh that this would characterize us, our generation.shannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07468697092405995209noreply@blogger.com0