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Last week I was asked by a Christian magazine to put together one paragraph on “where I see hope. “ To be honest, I wasn’t feeling very hopeful at the time. About three years ago, my wife and I put $1000 into a fund for a twentieth anniversary trip. Where ever the fund ends up, that’s what we allocate for our trip. This would be fun! I was thinking Cruise. Maybe Bermuda? Sunny and warm. Sand would be involved. Food. We would return to the frozen northeast wonderfully tanned, vividly declaring our success with deep skin tones. Shamelessly wearing brightly colored short-sleeved shirts with shells on them. Ah, life. Today that fund will take Ticia and me on a slow walk to downtown Nyack for a cheap sandwich and a can of diet coke. I think we’ll hold on to it until our twenty fifth. Hope? Was that trip why I got out of bed in the morning? But I kept thinking about it. I work at a Christian college because I have hope in God’s desire to work in the lives of students. What about you? What gives you hope? If our hope was in the market, then our hope was misplaced. Politics? Roughly 50% of our country is about to be terribly disappointed. Perhaps this is a good time to clarify what makes us tick. Why do we get up in the morning? Like me, take a moment to check. If you have another minute, post it for others to read.
 Natalie, one of the students on our trip in India, was a little nervous about the Leper Colony. As we walked in, the sun was bright, creating a dull glare off the straight row of red clay buildings. Flies buzzed around our heads as children played at our feet. How do you respond to families trapped in the deepest depths of poverty? As we slowly walked, a toddler stumbled between us. She had no clothes, her brown skin streaked with dirt, her black hair matted. While I felt sad for the little girl, wondering about the price of diapers on what little a Leper received from begging, Natalie reached down and picked her up. With a smile that would lift anyone’s heart, Natalie raised the little girl in her arms, hugging her, kissing her; the little girl laughing with delight. Natalie did not pause. She did not have to think. She ran no risk assessment before reaching out to the lovely little girl. She responded to the need. I have seen so many students respond to others with beautiful love. Rachel running after the limping man, down the broken streets of the South Bronx, to pray for him. Melinda sharing a divine rap in Harlem. I have such deep hope for the future, as I have borne witness to the love our next generation walks in. |
Comments
Mark, I love this, and I love that your hope ultimately landed on witnessing people being vessels of God's grace. Here's the paragraph I sent in :-)
Signs of Hope for West Brighton
Each morning, I encounter hope in the form of a beautiful African American woman with whom I share a bathroom, kitchen, and living space in Staten Island. She is my sister and friend, and since we met over five years ago, I have had the privilege of watching her go from a timid girl with small dreams and few opportunities to a young woman who dares to hope for much more out of life than she ever imagined. Corinne is the third generation in her family to grow up in the West Brighton Projects, one of New York City's most notorious public housing complexes. Like most "PJ's," WB is marked by heavy drug use, high abortion rates, sexual deviation/promiscuity, absentee fathers and excessive physical abuse. While some of its residents will graduate high school, few will go on to college, and fewer still will achieve a degree. Corinne is counter-cultural in pretty much every sense of the word, having managed to avoid the trappings of growing up in public housing, and when she completes her college degree, she will be the first in her family with that achievement. I began mentoring Corinne in 2003, and have watched her grow into a vibrant and respected influencer in her community. Though she has moved out of the projects and now lives with me one mile down the street, she remains involved in the lives of many young women from the community. When I see Corinne instructing a group of young people as a counselor for Urban Promise, or I overhear her praying over the phone with one of the teenage girls she is discipling, I realize that hope is alive and active for the people of West Brighton, and I am challenged to look for other "lilies among thorns" who might be found living - and dreaming - behind the red brick and iron bars of the projects.
What a terrific paragraph, Christy! An amazing story. Like you said, we find hope in others. That's a crazy truth, but very beautiful.
And, I hope you are feeling much better!