The Age of my Heart

The Age of my Heart

            “Todo el mundo es la edad de su corazón: everyone is the age of their heart.” This Guatemalan proverb encompasses the revelations that dominated my thoughts on our final full day in a country abundant in both transformative strength and stagnant injustice. Although the trip was undoubtedly focused on service to others, I found that the lessons I learned throughout my experience taught me more about the role I personally play in the world around me more than I could have ever dared to dream. Unlike less consummate forms of introspection that can wrongly engender selfishness, the reflection I experienced on this day inspired a swelling sense of community. This was especially prevalent as we overcame many challenges of both physical and emotional nature as a team. We trekked to the precipice of an active volcano as the sun rose over the lush green landscape. We meandered through the bustling city of Antigua to absorb the rich history and culture of the country’s former capital. (Okay, so we mostly ate great food and tried our hand at bartering with vendors in the marketplace. I was awful.) We spent the evening mulling over our week of adventure and expressing how much we mean to one another. Ultimately, the time we spent together- listening, learning, and loving- brought me to an important realization about what it means to be the age of my heart. One particularly profound definition of the word age describes it as “one of the periods or stages of human life.” By this philosophy, age is not a number, but a complex state of existence. This state is comprised of a myriad of passionate ambitions and intricate stories- many of which are not even my own. They belong to the precious people of La Limonada, to the team with whom I have traveled, and to the beacons of light and love who have dedicated their lives to bridging the divide between privilege and poverty. And yet . . . they are inextricably a part of me and my ever-growing, ever-changing, ever-beating heart.

            It beats with the joyful laughter of dear baby Charlie, who is spending the first few months of her fragile life in a country that most Americans would deem unsafe for even a week of travel. Unaware of this prejudice, she smiles brightly at the strangers who inhabit her home and giggles loudly when they make silly faces- which is often. It aches for the fear-filled brown eyes of children in the daycare of La Limonada when yet another group of strangers darkens its doors. Only moments later, the radical grace and hospitality that permeates the community takes hold from a place deep within their youthful spirits, and they reach up for warm hugs and gentle kisses on the cheek. My heart overflows as it holds dear the dreams of La Limonada’s older children; these dreams radiate with the hope and ambition that is necessary for sustainable social change. It bleeds for the teenage girl on the street corner who has temporarily put her own future on hold so she can nurture a child even though she is still one herself. It swells with the memories I have made with my own peers, each of whom are too uniquely wonderful to describe. These beautiful individuals, although less experienced in years, teach me so much about trust, innocence, and humility. In this period of my human life, I am young.

            My heart gains wisdom and discernment from those whose years have brought with them truths worth internalizing. It is warmed by the strength and diligence of my chaperones/teachers, who have spent countless hours working through the logistics of bringing a diverse group of teenagers to a foreign country. It absorbs the warm light of Daniela and Lizza, the two Lemonade Team members with whom we have worked closely. The compassion they exude for the children of La Limonada is just as fierce as it is gentle- as if these children were their very own. They have high ambitions for this marginalized community and even higher ambitions for a world where this kind of marginalization is heartbreakingly commonplace. My heart is rejuvenated by the tireless efforts of Tita, who has worked in La Limonada for longer than I have been alive, who exemplifies the remarkable truth that perfect love casts out all fear. It lifts up the elderly residents of La Limonada- fathers, mothers, sons and daughters- who believe fervently in a better future for the next generation of Guatemala. Although I may not completely understand the perspective my elders have on the world, they give me hope for the kind of vision I hope to acquire. In this period of my human life, I am growing older.

            Each face, each story, each heart- adds a new dynamic to the heart I am still trying to comprehend- my own. It is young, and it is old. It is so weak, and yet it is so strong. Every vein, every vessel that belongs to me belongs a thousand times over to a world longing simply to love and be loved. So, as I cope with my departure from the land that has captured and transformed the core of my being, I choose to look to the ends of the earth that need to feel the rhythm of my beating heart the most. Because I know now that at this period in my human life, I need to feel theirs just as desperately. Then, and only then, will I be able to understand my identity as a citizen of this beautifully broken world that we all call home.

            Muchas gracias, Guatemala. Nos vemos.

 

 

Of Value is thy Freight

"Learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression. Bring justice to the fatherless, and plead the widow's cause."

~ Isaiah 1:17

Did you know that today is International Day of the Girl? Thousands of women and girls across the world are abused and neglected on the sole basis of their gender. God calls us to advocate for the rights of persecuted and give a voice to those who are silenced. Perhaps the best way to defend the rights of the vulnerable is to enable them to do so on their own through access to an education. In honor of International Day of the Girl 2013, here's a piece I wrote about the issue of women's education last spring. Sometimes I get a little carried away with my metaphors, so please excuse me. (:

 

"Of Value is thy Freight"

 





Who is a woman without access to an education? She is a castaway stranded in the threatening waters of a relentless sea. On a distant horizon is a captivating shore that she is unable to behold, for a veil, which has been imposed on her from the dawn of humanity, conceals her haggard eyes. Impenetrable blindness overwhelms her; it tethers her to a dock of oppression and inferiority. In the patriarchal societies of many nations across the globe, education is a vessel that sails freely only for males. Too often, women in such countries are left to sink in a persistent flood of inequality. It is my fervent belief that the right to explore earth’s uncharted waters has been bestowed upon all humans, and I am confident that this right is best protected in the form of educational opportunities. While these opportunities have been made more easily attainable for women in recent years, educational equality must be achieved in full. A nation that protects a woman’s right to an education is one that reduces her susceptibility to injustice, empowers her development in society, and ultimately promotes the progression of the human race.

 

 

            The prevalence of social tyranny in nations with educational inequality frequently subjects women to brutality and injustice of various forms. A Thousand Splendid Suns, one of the most groundbreaking literary works of the twenty-first century, chronicles the plight of Afghani women. A major protagonist in this work is the product of an out-of-wedlock pregnancy who is perceived as a menace to society from birth. She is never granted access to a public education. At the age of fifteen, she is forced to marry a man who is more than twice her age. After enduring decades of abuse, she is ultimately stoned to death for lashing out against her oppressor. Unfortunately, this woman’s story is not one that is confined to the pages of a novel. It is one that is brought to life across the globe each day. However, there is a means of escape for the women who live out this cruel reality. Exhaustive research indicates that countries with more educated women report lower rates of child/infant mortality, lessened maternal mortality, and curbed pervasiveness of sexually transmitted disorders. Women who are nurtured in knowledge are more likely to take ownership of their minds, their bodies, and their freedoms. A sense of personal dominion enables females to advocate for themselves and slowly lift the veil blinding them from the hope they are entitled to pursue.

            The facilitating nature of education and the countless territories it spans instills an attitude of enlightenment in an individual, which thus elicits the desire to become a contributing member of society. Consider the remarkable accomplishments of empowered women of the past. Because of education, women have explored space, escaped poverty, become humanitarians, and made other innovations in their frontiers. What if the cure for AIDS lies in the hands of a young Pakistani girl who has never set foot in a school? What if world peace dwindles in the fingertips of an Ethiopian woman who has been circumscribed by her gender? The daunting waters of the world we inhabit are surely ridden with torrents of uncertainty. These torrents are matched in strength only by the infinite sea of inquisitive women who have yearned to navigate and quell stormy waters, but have been inhibited from doing so. As a result of these inhibitions, many of earth’s greatest mysteries remain unsolved.

          History and literature remind us that education is a critical tool in ensuring the promise of an incandescent future. In his popular poem "Song of Democracy," writer and philosopher Walt Whitman asserts that education is the right by which all other rights are championed. To emphasize this theme, Whitman Pens:

"And these I see, these sparkling eyes,

These stores of mystic meaning, these young lives,

Building, equipping like a fleet of ships, immortal ships,

Soon to sail out over the measureless seas,

On the soul's voyage."

Although the poem pertains directly to the American education systems, its words and their meanings are universal; education is essential in fostering the overall advancement of humankind. The majority of us have been given the opportunity to thrive in the broadening environment of a public school. Have you ever taken a moment to reflect upon the meaning of a place where students come together to learn from the past and embrace the present so that they might become the future? Nations that deny women the right that so many of us enjoy are generally plagued with raging violence, antique prejudices, and political turmoil. As the future of our world, I propose that we educate ourselves on the issues surrounding educational inequality as well as the implications that they carry. Withholding the right to an education from a group of individuals, no matter how far away they may seem, hinders us all from reaching the destination towards which we sail. For in the words of Walt Whitman, a public school is more than the tiresome reading, writing, and ciphering classes. It is more, infinitely more.

Since its inception, humanity has longed to dock upon a shore of equality, liberation, and prosperity. I believe that education is the vessel by which this harbor is reached, but the lingering disparity of women's education has anchored man's progress too deeply in outdated and discriminatory ideals. Establishing universal education for women across the globe will protect them from oppression and allow them to transform their environments, and it will be a milestone in the ongoing quest to secure human rights for all. Please join me in the mission to rescue the castaway who is stranded in her lack of knowledge. Lift the veil that masks her face, and look upon her with new eyes as hers quiver open. Let her know that she is the exceedingly valuable freight carried by the store of education. Release the yoke that has bound her to ineffable transgressions as she learns to navigate the unfamiliar waters on her own.

 

 

 

 

Malala Yousfazi is an incredible champion for women's rights! Check out one of her many inspiring interviews here.



 

Tearing Down the Walls

 Prejudice. Does society know of a more impenetrable wall, of one with a deeper foundation? Since the inception of time, humans have shamelessly based their acceptance of others off of an array of external factors. Appearance, popular status, belief, and behavior are just a few of our favorites. At first glance, the barriers we build around ourselves and our neatly crafted social groups seem to shield us from the discomfort and apprehension that what lies beyond these barriers may bring. But then . . . we’re trapped in a world where everyone looks, thinks, and acts as we do. The familiar sights we once cherished become vile portraits of monotony. Deep down, we thirst for an escape, but our all-consuming animosities against the outside world seal even the smallest of cracks in the wall that imprisons us. 



           

           Astonishingly, (or maybe not so astonishingly) Christians have a reputation for their alienation, and it often comes off as unyielding hate. I think most of us have good intentions. (At least, I hope most of us have good intentions.) We want to “Surround ourselves with Godly influences” or “Abstain from worldly practices.” And that’s wonderful. You should have a spiritual support system, and there are probably certain things that you should avoid. But personally, I think there comes a point when these “good intentions” take a backseat to our unjustified inhibitions. These inhibitions dictate the way we think, and the way we act. They cause us to look at people for “what” they are instead of who they are, and more importantly- the one who created them. They cause our churches to become hostile country clubs- the utter opposite of what they were intended to be. (But hey, the guy who prays the most gets the best seat!) They hinder us from our mission to be light in the darkness- because somehow, we have become enveloped in the darkness itself. Often, however, we’re far too blind to see it.

            As much as we like to believe that God shares our personal prejudices, The Bible clearly illustrates that He does not. John 4 tells the story of Jesus and a Samaritan woman- two people who were never supposed to cross paths.

            But they did. Quite intentionally, I might add.

            The Samaritan woman journeyed out into the intense heat of the day to gather water from the village well. Although water-gathering was considered a highly social activity, this weary woman was alone- most likely because of her less-than-ideal status as a woman who had been married five times and was living with a man who wasn’t her husband. As she drew from the well, Jesus embraced this outcast as someone He loved dearly. He looked past social rituals and offered her the promise of living water- of abundant life like a bubbling spring. Almost instantly, she abandoned her task in sheer elation and rushed back to her village to share with others the hope she had discovered. An act of bold compassion brought out the life stored within her; it liberated multitudes from the bondage of discrimination and into the freedom of eternal acceptance.  (Remarkably, Jesus did not become an adulterous woman in the process.)

            God’s disapproval of unwarranted human prejudices goes back even further than this profound narrative. Early in the Old Testament, we find the story of the Battle of Jericho. I know what all of you bible scholars out there are thinking: “Wait! That was when the Israelites marched around six times and then God destroyed the city. What does that have to do with prejudice?” Well, your second-grade Sunday school teacher may have left out the fact that Joshua and his spies, on whom the entire mission rested, were sheltered in the house of Rahab . . . a prostitute. What if Joshua and his men had looked only at her inequity, and not at her potential? What if they hadn’t trusted that God was going to use her for His purposes? The walls of Jericho may still be standing.

            And Rahab may have never become a part of the genealogy of Jesus, the one who came to tear down all walls that persist in dividing us.

            We say Jesus has shattered the barriers of our hearts. But do we live as if He has? Do we follow the warning words of James, who asserts that appearances are more than falliable: “Suppose someone comes into your meeting dressed in fancy clothes and expensive jewelry, and another comes in who is poor and dressed in dirty clothes. If you give special attention and a good seat to the rich person, but say to the poor, “You can sit over there, or on the floor,”- well, doesn’t this show that your discrimination is based on evil motives? Hasn’t God chosen the poor of this world to be rich in faith? Aren’t they the ones who inherit the kingdom promised to those who love him? But you dishonor the poor! Isn’t it the rich who drag you into courts and oppress you?” (James 2:2-6) Or do our judgmental glances and haughty attitudes defile the name of God, who loved each and every one of us enough to forgive a debt that we could never repay? James is also adamant that we must “Speak and act as those who are going to be judged by the law that gives freedom, because judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who is not merciful. Mercy triumphs over judgment” (James 2:12-13).

            You never know what God is doing in the life of another person- until you make an earnest effort to find out. So go against the grain and embrace people on the fringes of society. Step out of your comfort zone, out of your own little world. Learn to see people with your heart, and not your eyes. The incredible just might happen. You might lead someone to a wellspring of living water. Or just like in The Battle of Jericho, you may find your strength in the most unexpected of places. And the walls just might come crumbling down.

 



           

           

A Chain Reaction

        “Compassion is the greatest form of love that humans have to offer.” These words were breathed by Rachel Scott, the first student brutalized in the Columbine High School shootings of April 1999. And she wasn’t kidding. In fact, the biblical Greek word for compassion is Splagcnizomai, meaning “moved from the inward parts.” An authentic act of compassion comes from the center of who you are, from a radically changed heart. I think that this is what makes compassion so special. It isn’t superficial or self-seeking. It’s an utter outpour of overflowing joy and grace from the bottom of your heart. Like a wildfire, it consumes everything in its path, from blades of grass to lofty trees. Like a river, it cleanses and rejuvenates everything it washes over, from grains of sand to cutting stones. Even when its effects are not automatic, compassion is unstoppable. It’s a chain reaction.

                                                                   

                                                                     

 

        I wish I could say that compassion is the empowering force behind everything I do. But unfortunately, it’s not. I’m a selfish, imperfect human. It is, however, my ultimate goal. I want to live my life knowing that I have loved people from a movement of the inward self. When I leave this Earth one day, hopefully many, many years from now, I want people to look back on my life and say, “Wow. That girl’s life was changed from the inside out. And it was really evident in the way she treated those around her, from her closest friends to her most relentless persecutors.” And ultimately, I want them to be pointed to the consummate act of compassion that has changed me so deeply- the display of undeserved love on the cross that has given me the power to live freely.

 

            If untainted compassion is the goal towards which we strive, we must not attempt to change, but we must allow ourselves to be changed. If you never remember another bible verse in your life, please remember this one: (It’s short, I promise.) “We love because He first loved us” (1 John 4:19). We were loved when we were unlovable, we are loved when we are unlovable, and we will be loved no matter how unlovable we become. This kind of incredible love shouldn’t just give us a warm fuzzy feeling. It shouldn’t just send us to a pew each Sunday or compel us to recite a prayer before we eat. It should swell inside of us like a storm cloud waiting to burst. It should burst. It should hit us like a hurricane that destroys what was never built to stand. When this mighty hurricane has come through, we should not be the same. We should stand on a new foundation of hope, faith, and love. (You get a gold star if you can guess which of these three is the greatest.) And this foundation should become the center of who we are, the root of our Splagcnizomai. Our compassion.

 

            Now that I’ve made everything sound all beautiful and poetic, I’ll let you in on a little truth: being compassionate is not easy. Having compassion is one thing. Displaying it is another. Displaying it when it is not reciprocated makes it even harder. Nothing kills me more than extending my hand to someone I love and watching them turn away. That hurts. So much. (But then I think about how God feels when I decide that I actually have life all figured out and I’m just going to put Him in a neat little box on my bedroom shelf because I can totally do this on my own.) There are days when I feel so burned out because I’m doing everything in my human power to make the world a more positive place, but then torrents of negativity overwhelm me. I come to the conclusion that I should just give in and give up. I’m too young to change the world, anyway. And being nice is overrated. I should just focus on myself and let everyone else solve their own problems. But then, the seed of compassion planted deep within my soul pokes its head out from the darkened soil. I see the suffering and brokenness around me. I realize that hatred and deceit will not fix anything. Nor will the fear of going out and making a difference. Only compassion. Only love gets the last word in the end. So by the grace of God, I muster up all the strength I have left and meditate on the words of Hebrews 6:10: “For God is not unjust; he will not forget your work and the love you have shown him as you have helped his people and continue to help them.” And honestly, I find myself a little bit addicted to loving people and all the pain it inflicts. Every once in a blue moon, I see the chain reaction working like dominoes; each one falls down in surrender to a force greater than itself, with much credit to the domino behind it.

 

            As you continue on your journey, let me leave you with a few last words from Rachel Scott: “I have this theory, that if one person can go out of their way to show compassion, a chain reaction will begin of the same.”

 

            Don’t be afraid. This kind of chain reaction has the power to change the world. But will it change you?