I live and breathe my current life around a variation of humans whose stories differ greatly. I grew up, spending high school and college, primarily in white, Christian, suburban life.
This present season of my young adult life, I work and live in a workplace and neighborhood that lets me meet and get to know fantastic people from other lifestyles, other religions, other parts of the world. Some of them have become dear, dear friends.
A season of external diversity, these past two years, has also ushered in some intern diversity–by that, I mean newfound discomforts stemming from challenged perspectives and discovery of frustrating health problems. Completely unrelated in their aligned timing, I often find myself struggling as I wonder why these two walk together.
—-Joy & Pain. —-Desired learning & provoked research.
—-Stories of growth & reports of failure. —-Dreams come true & fears coming to past.
Why must they hold hands?
As I wrestle with thoughts and fears, those at my side ask me to look beyond myself.
Those dear, dear friends of mine, and so many more, face similar struggles as they have asked their own “why’s”. Coming from different homes, sacrificing different things, leaving different family members, statuses, communities, jobs, or friends, finding new versions of all this here in this place I call home.
Their beauty and sorrow always walk hand in hand. I’m not alone.
<> <> <>
I learned a new word the other day. Amidst all that life brings, we all seek it:
EASEMENT // “The state or feeling of comfort or peace”
It seems that many times we deem it necessary to go to great lengths or obtain huge achievements to find such a peace.
A good friend works directly with newly-arriving refugee families. He was telling me the other day of a small blessing. Being out at an appointment with a
refugee family through the lunch hour, he found himself rather hungry, but unable to go shopping. A simple prayer to God asked for no more than a banana to tide him over. Less than a minute later, the father of the family my friend was helping appeared with a banana and offered it to him. After some refusal and reasoning, he graciously accepted this answer to his silent request. Later, as we talked, he found himself so satisfied and humbled by this gift and showcase that the Lord is near.
This friend of mine is here with his family, having arrived to the United States only ten months ago. He could easily be pleading for greater things, huge fixes to significant struggles, or life-changing provisions. Instead he has kept his faith and trust simple. Many days it seems comfort and peace– easement– are his.
I pondered to myself: how many of us who have the option to struggle and seek more, are first willing to silently ask for the banana?
Perhaps easement more often comes through simple faiths, small asks and ceasing to wrestle so hard.