This past Friday night I boarded a charter bus with about forty other people from the Immigration Solidarity Committee. Our destination was Washington D.C. for a march telling Washington that we are one nation standing together, demanding the changes that were promised to us. We became united and lived out our duty as the people for the people.
I was thrilled upon arriving to see all the different people huddled together with their friends and families. The Spanish language was spoken all around us and I felt so excited to be among the Spanish speaking population of Charlotte, NC. Although I felt some anxiety in attempting to speak Spanish myself, I knew this trip would prove to be an awesome opportunity to spruce up on my skills.
For some time now I have felt a deep spiritual emptiness within. My daily struggle to bring about meaning in my days and be productive through action based on my beliefs has become exhausting. The many various illnesses that I suffer from have also impeded some of my zeal and I feel as though I am not doing enough, though the desire is there. My time so far here at Hyaets has also been very trying. My expectations have not been met, though not necessarily through the fault of anyone at Hyaets, but rather through my own desires and the cultivation of what God is doing within me and where he is leading me. So, it was with excitement and also weariness that I boarded the bus to D.C.
I will write more on the rally/march later however, I am compelled to relay an experience I had on the metro going back to the buses to come home. It was myself and Jacob along with about seven other members of ISC (Immigration Solidarity Committee). The metro train was overstuffed with people. It was stuffy and overwhelmed with the smell of hot and sticky people. There were conversations going on all about. After about five minutes sitting on the metro the train came to a halt prematurely and we were stuck waiting for it to continue for about ten minutes.
It was during this time that Gizella, a lovely woman I had met through ISC, and whom I had told of my physical ailments, decided to pray for me. She placed her soft warm hand on my shoulder as we sat side-by-side on one of the benches, closed her eyes and began praying out loud for me. I closed my eyes too and my ears zeroed in on what she was saying. She began by praying for healing of my body. This I expected as I had told her about my physical ailments. She fluidly spoke the freeing and beautiful Word of God out of her mouth into the stuffy and smelly air. Her words surrounded me and my mind and soul. I breathed them in. As she continued she spoke to me in the Spirit of God and set to rest many worries and troubles of my soul. She confirmed that where I am and what I am doing is where and what I should be doing, but only for a season. Then she began to pray and say things to me that opened the emotional flood gates that I have had locked for some time. As she continued to pray I had the sense that it was the Lord speaking to me, giving me words of encouragement and affirmation. It is these words that I will keep secure and hold tightly to and ask the Lord to confirm again.
It has been quite some time since I have had a spiritual experience such as I had on the metro yesterday. It has been quite some time since I have been poured into such as Gizella did on Saturday. Me, a mere acquaintance to her, she took time to listen to and pray for and then speak into words of life. It was on Saturday, on a metro train, under the ground, in the dark, that the Lord brought me into His light and lifted me up. He has given me strength to continue and even more, hope!
9.20.2010
Path to Peace
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| Drawn Picture of Via Dolorosa (Way of Suffering) The path Jesus took on the way to his Crucifixion |
Right now Jacob is struggling to find a job that he not only qualifies for but that he is not over-qualified for; nevertheless, he is willing to take either. He begins a temporary assignment tomorrow (er today) at a paper factory where he will be stuck in steel toe shoes that are one size too small for his feet. We looked hard for some used ones at various thrift stores and were not able to find a pair other than the ones that were one size too small. So, as he works the next three weeks, his poor feet will be mutilated. He is my hero!!!
Though our refrigerator is not barren or our pantries barren, we find ourselves struggling to create meals from what we have. We were blessed with a grocery donation about two weeks ago from a dear friend, Keith, who runs a non-profit food donation site called the Common Place. If it were not for him we would not have gotten as far as we have with our groceries, and for that I am thankful and appreciative. However, we find ourselves in the same boat once again. Jake tried to make a Hamburger Helper beef straganoff but we had no milk and no money to buy milk. In these times it is helpful to remember the Lord's Prayer, that God does not instruct us to pray for weekly bread or monthly bread but rather for daily bread...and seemingly, we have not yet gone hungry.
Oh and bills...I cannot even begin to explain my exasperation over bills. With my short-term disability only paying me 60% of my normal pay and Jacob not having steady work these past months, we have barely met the demands of rent, phone, electric, groceries, and other necessities. However, I must give God praise for we have yet to come up short for our rent or have our electricity cut off. And in the end, I remember that Jesus had no where to lay his head, no place to call home. Honestly, the worse that could happen is we are evicted and would then enter into the blessed experience of homelessness, relying on the generosity of others to shelter us, just as Jesus did. Guess if you want to be more like him, what better way to do so.
It is through these struggles that I have found a deep cord of commonality in the frailty and humanity of those who I live next to. I no longer seem so different from them and them from me. We have all jumped into the same boat and are doing our best to row through the rocky, and at times tumultuous, waters of life.
In the midst of the storms there are occasionally those who calm the waters and offer their friendship or resources to help us out. Jake's mom, Penny, has been a huge help. She has allowed Jacob to work with her some days and pays him generously. That has been quite a saving grace. Then, there has been the gift card to Bi-Lo from Hyaets which helped out to provide a meal. Keith, who has given us a load of groceries. And many others who pray for us and those who struggle with us and give us reason to laugh and remain joyous.
I am thankful for these struggles though I may not necessarily like them so much. The way of suffering is the path to peace...just maybe I'm beginning on my journey to a peace that surpasses all understanding.
9.04.2010
Forms to get a form? Really? How the Social Service System is keeping people down!
So yesterday I had my first experience at the Social Services department in Charlotte, NC. I parked my car and walked in through the automatic sliding glass doors and a cool wind hit my face. Yes! It is nicely air conditioned in here. That would be about the very last thing I was grateful for during my time there.
The first stop I had to make was to the Information Desk where I asked for a form for Food Stamps. The young lady behind the counter handed three forms and advised me to go make an appointment with one of the receptionist staff to the left. So I got in line and waited. There were four lanes to choose from, but not knowing which one was going to be open next three of us were just hanging back for the next one to be available, very much like at a bank. So about ten minutes goes by and then a Security Officer decides to assign the two ladies behind me to two different lanes and leaves me hanging. I had a hard time not believing that this was not a form of discrimination against me because I was the only white person in there.
Finally I get to the head of the line and a very sweet lady behind the counter explains to that in order to make an appointment I would need to fill out the forms that I already received plus she gave me three more forms to fill out. She advised that I should go sit at one of the tables in the back, fill out all the forms, and then come back to schedule my appointment with her so I can receive the actual Food Stamp forms.
Huh? You mean the six pages you have already given me aren't the Food Stamp form? Uh, no!
Well, thankfully I'm a quick form-filler-outer. I finished the forms and took my place at the back of the line for the same woman who I had just spoken with. This began another fifteen minute wait. All the while I would try to strike up conversations with others in the line but I would be ignored. Folks would act as if they did not hear me and turn their backs to me. I again felt discriminated against for being the only white person in the building.
So, I just kept to myself the whole fifteen minutes, waiting patiently, as people's children screamed and hollered. One ladies son even came and stepped on my toes multiple times, each time I would say "watch out sweetie" and she would say nothing to him to correct his behavior.
Once I got to the front of the line the woman took my forms and then handed me a ten page packet to fill out. I would need to fill this out at home and then come back sometime next week between Tuesday and Friday for a walk-in appointment. Yes, a walk-in appointment. They don't schedule appointments until you get there, so you inevitably have to wait some more once you are there for your appointment.
I got to thinking about this ridiculous process and all the implications it could have on various situations and people. The forms are tedious and time consuming. They could be difficult to read for someone who has a reading disability or lacks the skills necessary to fill out the information they are requesting. The fact that you have to fill out a form just to get the form you need to get the help you need is in itself very oppressive. I also got to thinking of those that might have a job. They would have to take off twice from work; once to come down and fill out the forms to get the forms and then again to come back for their walk-in appointment. Often folks applying for these services cannot afford to take off from work nor do they get paid-time off from work.
My other observation is that there is some misunderstanding between cultures I believe. I think that I was ignored and somewhat discriminated against simply because it does not seem many white people come to Social Services for assistance. At least in this office. All the employees where black and all but me asking for help were black. I think it is a misunderstanding between cultures that white people do not need help when in fact, we are often in the very same boat as many other people, regardless of race. Poverty does not discriminate. It will get whomever it can and it is hard to get out from under it.
I pray that God would see the injustices that exist in our systems and in our cultures. I pray for his healing and wisdom amongst all peoples and within social assistance programs.
Where is the dignity in all of this? Where is the respect for the human in it all? I am not some form to be reviewed but rather I am a human being, who is hungry...that's all.
The first stop I had to make was to the Information Desk where I asked for a form for Food Stamps. The young lady behind the counter handed three forms and advised me to go make an appointment with one of the receptionist staff to the left. So I got in line and waited. There were four lanes to choose from, but not knowing which one was going to be open next three of us were just hanging back for the next one to be available, very much like at a bank. So about ten minutes goes by and then a Security Officer decides to assign the two ladies behind me to two different lanes and leaves me hanging. I had a hard time not believing that this was not a form of discrimination against me because I was the only white person in there.
Finally I get to the head of the line and a very sweet lady behind the counter explains to that in order to make an appointment I would need to fill out the forms that I already received plus she gave me three more forms to fill out. She advised that I should go sit at one of the tables in the back, fill out all the forms, and then come back to schedule my appointment with her so I can receive the actual Food Stamp forms.
Huh? You mean the six pages you have already given me aren't the Food Stamp form? Uh, no!
Well, thankfully I'm a quick form-filler-outer. I finished the forms and took my place at the back of the line for the same woman who I had just spoken with. This began another fifteen minute wait. All the while I would try to strike up conversations with others in the line but I would be ignored. Folks would act as if they did not hear me and turn their backs to me. I again felt discriminated against for being the only white person in the building.
So, I just kept to myself the whole fifteen minutes, waiting patiently, as people's children screamed and hollered. One ladies son even came and stepped on my toes multiple times, each time I would say "watch out sweetie" and she would say nothing to him to correct his behavior.
Once I got to the front of the line the woman took my forms and then handed me a ten page packet to fill out. I would need to fill this out at home and then come back sometime next week between Tuesday and Friday for a walk-in appointment. Yes, a walk-in appointment. They don't schedule appointments until you get there, so you inevitably have to wait some more once you are there for your appointment.
I got to thinking about this ridiculous process and all the implications it could have on various situations and people. The forms are tedious and time consuming. They could be difficult to read for someone who has a reading disability or lacks the skills necessary to fill out the information they are requesting. The fact that you have to fill out a form just to get the form you need to get the help you need is in itself very oppressive. I also got to thinking of those that might have a job. They would have to take off twice from work; once to come down and fill out the forms to get the forms and then again to come back for their walk-in appointment. Often folks applying for these services cannot afford to take off from work nor do they get paid-time off from work.
My other observation is that there is some misunderstanding between cultures I believe. I think that I was ignored and somewhat discriminated against simply because it does not seem many white people come to Social Services for assistance. At least in this office. All the employees where black and all but me asking for help were black. I think it is a misunderstanding between cultures that white people do not need help when in fact, we are often in the very same boat as many other people, regardless of race. Poverty does not discriminate. It will get whomever it can and it is hard to get out from under it.
I pray that God would see the injustices that exist in our systems and in our cultures. I pray for his healing and wisdom amongst all peoples and within social assistance programs.
Where is the dignity in all of this? Where is the respect for the human in it all? I am not some form to be reviewed but rather I am a human being, who is hungry...that's all.
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