My week in poetry

Truett's resident poet, Terry York, told us that sometimes he journals in poetry. Since I esteem him so dearly I figured I might as well give it a shot, and I might as well share it with someone since it's not really all that personal.

I found grace this week in a long awaited cool night
And in songs that are new and old
In faces long forgotten
And in dreams still unforetold

I felt like a child this week with a jubilant expectation
And with a fear of the unknown
With a yearning to cling to someone, something
And with the realization of how much I’ve grown

I faced challenges this week from unexpected places
And from a fearless social prophet
From people who I still don’t understand
And from the lack of cash that’s in my pocket

I lived deeply this week through the grace that I’ve been given
And through remembering things both precious and true
Through poetry that reminds us of what is important
And through focusing on the present while glancing in the rear view

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P.S. I had lunch with Tony Campolo this week. It was every bit as amazing as you might imagine. I jumped on the facebook band wagon, and I'm a total addict. People from Kossuth, MC, FBC Clinton, and friends here at Baylor. Almost too much and completely dangerous for a social butterfly like me. I also kind of freaked out b/c the next "move" is on the horizon, and it's downright scary. In theological capstone, we began reading "The Ragamuffin Gospel", and anything related to Brennan Manning is always an emotional experience for me. I worshipped all week long in my car screaming, "You are my joy, you are my joy, you are my joy, you are my JOOOOOOOOOOOY." Yes, and I'm still laughing so hard. A busy week, but yet a great week as you can see.

A Collision is Here!

It's an exciting week in the life of our church. The David Crowder* Band's latest CD, A Collision (or 3 +4=7), was released Tuesday, and the CD release party was at our church on Monday night. Seriously, I think this CD is freaking awesome. I don't want to over-hype it for you, but I really think that you will enjoy it. The words and the music are powerful. Track 15 is a rock opera that makes me want to jump into a huge mosh pit of praise. I've never felt that before. It's pretty cool. There is also a song with whistling and a keytar (that keyboard guitar thing from back in the day) that makes me want to be in an 80's teenie movie. There is a song we've been singing in church for a few months now, called "Rescue is Coming". I don't think I've ever heard a song with so much hope. It's real. It might make you cry. Then, of course, there is "the hoe down" cover of "I Saw the Light", and it's just a ball of knee- slappin', foot-tappin' fun. Really you've just got to buy this CD.

I know it's sounds like I'm shamelessly advertising for the band, but these songs are really a part of my life. We sing them in our church almost every Sunday, and so for me, they've become a sort of liturgy. I feel this music deeply. Sometimes I wonder if it just that amazing, worshipful, and experiential, or if my ties to the community from which that music is born stir something in me in a way that other music cannot. That's why I'm so pumped about this CD.

P.S. A Collision is number three on itunes top albums. Can you believe that? It's so exciting!!!

Reality

Ok, ok, I'll tell you what went down with the D-man. I could tell you about my fantasy of us meeting backstage at chapel then going out to lunch together, parting ways for the afternoon, and him coming over to my apartment for a beer after his last event of the day. At the end of the night, he'd ask me for my phone number, and promise he'd call me from the road. He'd leave and give me a kiss on the cheek, and then we would speculate as to when we might cross paths again.

Well, let me tell you kids, fantasy is better than reality. The truth is, I went to both the 10 and 11 chapel at Baylor, and I stood not three feet from Donald Miller, and I never talked to him. There were people around him that I had not seen in a long time, and we chatted for a while, and then it was time for chapel to start. For lunch some people who work in my office, got to eat with him, but they did not call me. I was really upset when I found out, and I acted like a baby. (Sorry if I took that out on anyone who may read this. I really love the people in my office. I just kind of got my feelings hurt a little, but no one involved really understood how much I love Donald Miller.) Anyways, I went to hear him that night at the Sub. It was a more informal book reading with a question and answer time. My friend Chrissy saved me a seat. I swear, that once again I was not six feet away from him. There were lots of people there, and we were smack-dab on the front row. I was embarrassed because there were lots of folks I knew there, and I was afraid that I would look like a stalker. Afterwards, there was a long line of folks waiting to talk to him. I opted to go out and eat with Josh instead because we haven't been able to hang out much lately.

That's about it. As Derek Webb says, "the truth is never sexy." It's more fun to live with the fanciful ideas about romance, but the truth is that romance isn't a part of my life right now, and it hasn't been for quite sometime. Maybe that's why I talk about D. Miller so much. It's safe. We'll probably never know each other so it could never get awkward. Sometimes I wish I was a guy, so that when I like somebody, it would be acceptable for me to actually do something about it. People talk about girls when we do something about it. One of the things I've learned the hard way is that chasing the guy, nine times out of ten, leads to embarrassment. Not doing anything leads to frustration, but embarrassment is usually worse.

I think from now on, I'll start living in the land of reality, which right now provides for exactly zero romance. There is hope, however. There is always hope.

Say a little pray for me...

I've got lots to tell you about, but I'm thinking it will all have to wait. Most importantly, tomorrow is a huge day in the life of Janalee. Why you ask? Donald Miller is speaking in chapel, and I'm going to go hear him, and maybe even go backstage and have a conversation with him. Pray that no one is there to thwart anything by talking about relaxing certain parts of their body this time. No clue what in the world I will say. Should have told you sooner so we could have taken a poll. Anyways, just keep me on you mind between the hours of 9:30 til around noon. I'm excited. Bought a new outfit for the occasion. Hope I can sleep tonight.

A Very Disheartening Conversation

Yesterday, I had one of the most disturbing conversations during my time here in Waco. I was talking to a group of freshmen on campus, and the conversation went something like this…

Me: “Has anyone done anything over the past week to get involved with the relief efforts for Hurricane Katrina?” (this was a service requirement I knew they had been given)

One Happy Girl: “I took some donations to a church here in town”.

Dark-headed girl: “I went home and there’s a big shelter there. Me and my mom took some food and other stuff there.”

Me: “That’s great. Did you get to talk to any of the people who had evacuated?”

Dark-headed girl: “ Well no. They were mean and scary. I mean they were like the scum of New Orleans.”

Me: Mouth unapologetically hanging wide open. Sitting there not knowing what to say.

Other students sitting around me: “Well they probably were. It was all the poor people and homeless and drug addicts that couldn’t get out.”

Me: (regaining my composure) “Yes, I understand that those who had the least were those who were not able to leave on their own, and who are now in these large shelters….”

(Something else was said at this point. I really can't remember how we transitioned to this next line of conversation.)

Happy girl: “Do you ever wonder where the people who stand on the corner with the signs begging for food get the marker to make the sign?”

(I know we’ve all heard that one before. The students started speculating.)

Red-headed boy: “I’m always surprised they can write it themselves.”

Me: (Jaw drops to the floor again.) “I think that we need to remember that homelessness is not something people are born into. There are some homeless people here in Waco that have college degrees.” I ended this conversation in a min-sermon about how we should love and respect the poor and summarized the verses about how when we help the poor, hungry, thirsty, and those in prison that’s what Jesus says we are doing to him.

I understand that these kids have lived all their lives in middle class or even upper class families. Many of them have probably never even had conversations with those who live below the poverty level. Still, it was just a completely sad conversation, and it seemed that I was the only person in the room who really realized it. Maybe I’m exaggerating all this in my head, but it is helping to confirm something I’ve been thinking for awhile. Not teaching our children to love and help the poor could be one of the biggest failures of our country and our churches. God help us.

Devastation for Mississippi's Mecca

This is a picture of Gulfshore Baptist Assembly in Pass Christian, MS where I attended camp in the summer or '95 and worked as a staffer in 2000. It's the major retreat center for Mississippi Baptist and we used to call it Mecca. The Auditorium (not pictured) is basically destroyed. I heard that everything on Henderson's Point is gone, so it's kind of amazing that this much of the building is still there. It' s pretty sad. There are lots of sweet little Mississippi Baptist who look forward to coming here each summer. There are also lots of fine folks who worked there too. I'm hoping they are all okay. Thanks to my friend Soccer Stacey for the picture.

Frustrations with my Arrogance

While driving home from work and reflecting upon my day, I grew possibly as frustrated as I have ever been with white people like myself. A montage of events from the past week brought this about, so I’ll share them with you now.

· I was slightly in disagreement with a friend who spoke out against the media and the politicians calling Hurricane Katrina America’s tsunami. When I first heard the phrase America’s tsunami, I also thought that this was a stretch, but speaking out against such things seems to lessen the overwhelming tragedy. The tsunami was a bigger catastrophe than Katrina in terms of loss of life. I wish the Governor Haley Barbour of Mississippi would not have made the comparison, but I will not and have not made a huge deal of this because people I know have been affected and the scope of this tragedy is also overwhelming. Spending time focusing on how another tragedy was so much worse than the current one really doesn’t fix anything, but it is easy to see that we are more affected by tragedy in our homeland than devastation on the other side of the world.
· Would the government’s response have been quicker if those stranded in New Orleans would have been white rather than people of color? I honestly don’t know. I hate the fact that we even have to raise this question, but in our world it is hard not to.
· People who lived on the Gulf Coast are now called refugees. Rev. Jesse Jackson came on CNN and blasted the media for using this term. “These are Americans”, he said. The term refugee bothers me as well. People I know and love are being called refugees, and this troubles and grieves me, yet I have never had a problem with Sudanese people, or Iraqi people, or people of other nationalities being termed as “refugees”.
· At work, I am helping to plan and publicize an emphasis on extreme global poverty and the ONE campaign. Today I met with a group of leaders on our campus to discuss this. One question was, “So were is the one percent from the U.S. budget going to come from? If it is education or something important like that, I’m not sure that I am for it.” This is never a question that I would ever think to ask. The more I thought about the statement the more bothered I was by it. Do we value the education of American children more than we value the lives of African children? Our government provides free lunches for children who come from low income families, and that program is going nowhere, but children in Africa are literally starving to death. What are we doing about that? The person who said this is a friend of mind, and a much smarter person than me. I don’t believe he is anti- the fight against global poverty. Still, I question the values of every American in this debate because of the apathy we’ve shown in the past
What do all these things say about the way we value people? I do believe, as I have heard more than one Christian leader say, that extreme global poverty is the biggest moral issue of our time, and that Christians should be more focused on saving people’s lives than being anti-homosexuality and keeping women out of pulpits which we often seem to waste too much energy on. How do we bring this issue to the forefront within the Church? When do we start to value children of all nationalities and races as if they could be our own? When will the value of human life really become something that is global and not just an issue of abortion in America? When will I stop spending my money at the Gap and giving it to people who just lost everything? Will my heart ever break for those across the ocean who live in dire circumstance day in and day out the way it has broken for Americans who have experienced poverty and loss suddenly? I am a selfish and arrogant American. God forgive me. Maybe it’s just natural to care about those we are personally involved with, and the places that we’ve been and love. This is why I want to go to Africa in May and see and experience all I can. Maybe then I’ll grow to love a place and a people that I hear rock stars talk about, a people who really have nothing, and who don’t know what it is like to have anything. Maybe that will teach me to really value all people in all places.

Feelings in the Aftermath of Tragedy

For the first time since the death of my father, I've been so upset by the events of this week that at times I've wanted to rip my clothes or just stay in bed all day and cry. I don’t think I've ever felt anything like it before. My friends from the coast and their families are safe from all accounts, but I am still not sure about their homes.

Many of my friends are now known as refugees. That is the strangest feeling, and I feel helpless. I'm in Waco, TX trying to learn a dead language, Hebrew, and I'm not even sure if my friend Katherine's home is still standing. It makes me sick.

I loved the Mississippi Gulf Coast and the city of New Orleans. I had a certain Vertical HCDizon cd that I would listen to as I would alongside of the beach on highway 90. That drive will never be the same again, and part of me thinks that I won't be either.

As horrifying as the images of the past two days have been, there is some good news coming from that part of the world. First of all, the Brewers' home was practically unharmed and amazing so was their church which was very near the beach in Gulfport. They are like a second family to me, and this news brought about much joy. The second image is the help pouring into New Orleans. Yes, it was too slow in its coming, but the sight of it brings about some hope.

In Waco, the response has been overwhelming. The churches who are housing refugees are turning away donations and volunteers because they have already received so much. I’m trying to do what I can in University Ministries to find ways that Baylor students can help. Tonight, my friend Katie and I are going to clean out some government housing apartments that are going to accept refugees. None of our efforts feel like enough because this crisis is so much bigger than I can wrap my mind around.

Everyday of this week has had its own difficulties. On Sunday and Monday we were worried about what kind of damage this massive storm would do to our state and if our families would be safe. Tuesday and Wednesday morning we had not heard from the Brewers, and the pictures from the coast were almost unrecognizable. Yesterday, the sight and the sound of the people outside the convention center were some of the saddest and most miserable images I had ever seen. Today, there are still more tragic stories, but as I said there does seem to be glimpses of hope. Everyday, though all have been unique and sad and long, the sun comes up. People give and give to help strangers, anddoes note it doesn't make everything better, God is giving hope. He is our hope, and for that I am thankful.