Racial reconciliation and bright orange fish
Today, I attended a Justice Conference that focused on racial reconciliation, education, poverty, violence, peacemaking, immigration and refugees. Expert speakers delved into complex problems. Thought leaders unveiled potential solutions. People shared their personal stories. Deep pain. Violation. Oppression. Despair. Hope. Advocacy. Beauty from ashes. I know our news stations swirl with topics like these every day, but hearing the stories of people standing right in front of me made everything so real. A black man assaulted by police at a traffic stop. A six-year old African orphan hiding in a forest to escape kidnapping. A teenage refugee who fled from Yemen to Egypt to the United States. Real stories from real people with real loved ones like you and me.
If you know me, you know that God made me pretty sensitive. I cry often and I hug everyone. So I should have figured all of this would hit me hard. When I got home from the conference this evening, all of the words spoken throughout the day rushed around in my mind. I needed to process it all or I was going to burst. Lately, I’ve been trying this new thing where I invite God to go on walks with me. It sounds silly, but I invite him along and ask Him to reveal His heart to me. I hit the pavement tonight and the words spilled out. God, all of this is so much. It’s so painful and so complex and so heavy. Why do children have to go through these experiences? Why can’t they simply be kids? Why do refugees have to be apart from their families? Why am I white living in the United States? How do you want me to help in all of this? Will you please show me?
Then despair set in and tears slipped out of my eyes. With problems and pain this big, hope seemed very far away. The weight of the day set in and I was simply broken. I continued to walk and let the tears flow. (You should have seen the poor people walking by me!) A week or so ago, I saw bright orange fish in the harbor. I had never seen them before and I thought it was so neat that there were brightly colored fish in a lake. A few days ago, I asked God if He could show me some of those bright orange fish again — and He did. Tonight as I was crying, I asked God the same prayer, took a few steps, and there they were. Amazed, I sat down on the edge of Lake Michigan and continued my conversation with God.
A few minutes later, I started walking again. At one moment when the heaviness was too much to bear, I prayed, “God, could you please give me some of your joy?” Ten seconds later, I noticed splashing in the harbor. Fish were jumping out of the water everywhere! It was like a musical performance of small fish flailing in the air. I looked up at the sky and laughed so hard. A year or so ago, I saw salmon jump like this in the harbor and I just loved it. I hadn’t seen fish jump like that in a long while, though. It was like God was saying, “Here you go, Lauren. Here’s something to make you smile.”
I’ve learned in life that joy is not dependent on circumstances. Although my heart was heavy and none of the world’s problems were solved by seeing those jumping fish, God reminded me how near He is and that He is in control. He is a great comforter. He delights in giving good gifts to His children (Matthew 7:11). He also cares about my pain. And when the time comes, that pain will turn into fuel as God shows me what role He wants me to play in His story.
We have a good Father. He knows your heart so personally and intimately because He gave it to you. Ask Him to reveal His love for you. I think He delights when we ask. Continue to ask. He will show you. He loves you so deeply. Jumping fish may not tug at your heartstrings, but God knows just what will.
Joyfully,
Lauren
