My Ramblings and Questions about What Happened in Ferguson

I'm not writing this because I think I have some amazing eye-opening thoughts that I think you need to know about. I'm not writing this to try to influence you. I'm not writing this to vindicate Darren Wilson or Michael Brown. 

I'm writing this because I'm mad at myself. I'm confused. I'm scared. I'm mad because I don't have a clear idea of what I believe. I'm confused about how both sides are so positive and there is so little reaching across the divide. I'm scared because I'm not sure if it was wrong not to not bring charges against Darren Wilson. I have a degree in race relations and I believe that the system is set up against minorities in America. Does not unequivocally backing Brown's case make me a racist? 

I'm writing this to set out clearly what I'm struggling with, instead of just this mess in my mind that doesn't make any sense. This is a brain dump for me. I'm writing this for my own posterity. If my kids ever ask, what will I say to them? I'm writing this so maybe I can enter the discussions clearly with real questions and well thought ideas. 

I'm hoping that if people do read it, they will enter in to a discussion with me, explaining what I'm getting wrong, answering my questions, and perhaps sharing some of their own conceptions. 

Michael Brown's involvement in a robbery and the THC in his system should have no bearing in what happened.

For me, this is not an argument I give much thought to, except to get mad when people use this as a justification. Stealing a few cigarillos and smoking a joint is not punishable by death. The robbery was reported to Wilson before he stopped those kids. He might have honestly considered them possible suspects. They were walking in the middle of the road and that's just not common sense. Wilson was doing his job when he stopped them, but if he did yell "Get the F out o the road" that's bullying behavior that I don't think he would have used if it was two white teenagers. But I digress. 

Why do people use the robbery and marijuana as some sort of justification? These types of crimes are given community service. Is it because it proves that Brown was not an innocent human being? Do people really want to play that game? Have you never been guilty of breaking the law? Never smoked weed, never broken the speed limit, never thrown a napkin out of your window? I know that robbery is a little bit bigger than these. He should have been arrested. He did a bad thing. I believe people actually take solace in his crimes because it makes what happened more justified to them.We are all  guilty in some way and most of us have time to repent. Brown was not given that chance. 

Was Brown surrendering or getting ready to charge? 

Some witnesses say Brown was about to charge at Wilson. Some say he had his hands up in surrender. Here's where it gets scary to me. If I say I don't know who is right, I'm afraid people will look at me as a racist who trusts policemen and the system and doesn't give crap about the words of Black men. I'm taken back to the 1940s in Mississippi where Black men lie and white police officers tell the truth. I don't want to be that person. 

Yet I do believe that black men are capable of lying, just as I believe white men are. I believe all the witnesses might have been protecting their own race in their statements, spinning what they saw or outright lying. 

The system is flawed and stacked against minorities in America. The killing of an unarmed Black man is a big deal and should be investigated. But what if Brown really did charge at Wilson? Wilson claimed that because of the attack he could not get to his other weapons. What if this 289 pound man was angry enough to charge him? Do we make a martyr out of Wilson because he was in the wrong place in the wrong time?  Do we automatically not believe a white man because of the many deaths of black men shot by white police officers? 

When the transcripts of the case went online, the first thing I read were the witness reports. I needed to know. I read a few. Some claimed his hands were up, some claimed he was charging. This is not an easy question to answer. I am poised and ready to believe that Brown was surrendering, because it would be the easier thing for me. This case would be clear cut and I would be let off of all this wondering. BUT WE DON'T REALLY KNOW. 

Absolutely Wilson could be lying. He could be a racist who didn't value a Black man in the street. 

Absolutely the witnesses who claimed he was surrendering could be lying. Although I believe they may have less of a reason for it. I'm leaning toward believing Brown was surrendering, but either way I am calling someone a liar and I don't take that lightly. 

Are the protestors and rioters justified? 

Now, I almost looked up some academic articles on protests and riots to find out the psychological, political, and social implications and results. However, with the transcripts of the trial online and my limited time for research, I just have made it that far yet. It's on my to do list. 

I don't understand how ruining your own neighborhood, keeping your kids from going to school, and committing crimes furthers your end. 

I also don't understand institutionalized racism and the desperation for justice and the anger that boils up from those wounds. What must you do to be heard if your entire system is against you? What do you do with all that anger? 

Sure people can say fight the system from the inside. That takes time and has meager results. But creating chaos doesn't have results either. Protests let the government know that a lot of people are not going to sit down when injustices are committed. Rioters make the government fear them. Should the government convict someone because they are afraid of rioters? I don't know about this. Once again, this is a brain dump. 

Let's talk about institutionalized racism

People get confused about what racism is. Not liking someone based on skin color makes you prejudiced. Having the power of a badge and targeting an entire race makes you a part of institutionalized racism. 

Black people can be prejudiced against White people. They don't have an entire justice system that has historically abused them, targeted them, and legally institutionalized them. There is no such thing as reverse racism. 

Why the use of deadly force?

Let's pretend for a second that we know for sure that Brown was about to charge Wilson. Wilson claimed he was pinned before and couldn't get to any of his weapons (tear gas, stick, etc). But by all accounts Brown HAD moved away from the vehicle. He was unarmed. Wilson honestly couldn't have used any other weapons? Why did he shoot Brown several times? The autopsy report mentioned at least three shots I believe. The head, the arm, the chest. I could be wrong on this, I read the report hurriedly, but I know it was more than one. Brown was high on marijuana, not meth. A single shot to the arm wouldn't have done it? 

Perhaps Wilson freaked and did the first thing he thought of. He did the wrong thing and he should be charged with it, even if it was a lapse in judgement. This is all still muddy to me but I will try to research it and figure out what really went down. 

So here's where I am. I am scared to post this but I'm also scared of the lack of real conversation that's surrounding this event. If you made it this far, share your thoughts with me, as kindly as your conscience will let you. 

God in the Middle

Most of you know this, but if you don't, I am a worrier. If there was an anxiety Olympics, I would win the gold. I have the kind of anxiety that is a medical condition. Every now and then I try to convince myself that I don't need Zoloft and that ends badly.

What a lot of you don't know is the intense joy that people with anxiety have. I don't have cancer! I'm not losing my job! My house didn't explode! The noise in the night wasn't a precursor to my death! Life is most excellent. Sure, it's a manufactured joy, but it is unbounded happiness.

Right now I'm going through some pretty intense anxiety. Threat Level in actuality is middling, but higher than low. It's a medical concern that most people would take notice of and then go about their day, perhaps mentally noting that if it continues to see a doctor. Worst case scenario for most people is, yuck, I might have to take some medication. But guys, I'm pretty sure I'm dying. I'm pretty sure it's cancer.

Right now, Jesus and I are buds. I'm talking to him more. I am the type of anxious person that I NEED to get to the worst case scenario and make peace with it. People handle their anxieties in different ways and for some anxious people you should never allow them to think the worst. With me, it's best to be factual: Ok, so if your house does explode, what then? Let's solve the worst case possibility. So my worst case right now is that I'll die before I get to be Mrs. Tom Stockman. I'll die before having kids. My family will be lost. When I get to that low, I talk to Jesus. Are you really enough God? If this is it for me, will it matter when I get to heaven? I am more convinced in the pain and anxiety that God is there and loves me than any other time in my life.

If I find out I'm perfectly fine, my joy in God will be unleashed. God is good. I not only get Jesus, who is absolutely enough for this life, I get earthly happiness too. I'll be euphoric and I'll feel like I really know God.

And then I'll forget. My sink will become clogged. Tom and I will fight. I'll get frustrated at work. It's not anxiety inducing and it's not joy-filled. It's in the middle. God isn't there.

Where is Jesus when I'm late for work? Where is Jesus when I'm snuggling Smoot? Where is Jesus in the humdrum frustrations and little blessings of life? Why isn't he there?

I know he is there. Somewhere. Perhaps it's because I don't feel like I really need him. Perhaps it's because I have created habit of only experiencing him in strong emotions. Perhaps I've turned him into the God of joy and the God of anxiety and I've never let him be what he really wants to be: God in everything.

I am a firm believer that God is who he is all the time, but our emotions keep us from seeing that. I believe in spiritual disciplines, although it's not in vogue anymore. I'm not very good at it, but I believe in regular and ritualized prayer, in fasting, in the habit of self-denial. I know these things are taught by Jesus. What I'm not applying is that they are there specifically for the middle. Of course we'll go to go God in the extremes, but what if we train ourselves in these things every day, every hour?

If I know God is there all the time, why can't I see him through the fog of the middle? I am trying to learn the lesson that I know God is teaching me right now. Reach through the humdrum, the daily diet cokes, the night time mystery reading, hold fast to the goodness that is available in the highs, in the lows, and in the middle.

Don't fear the little ones

One of my most humiliating memories is when I was working with a mission trip as a teenager. One of the tasks was working with small children and I asked for a different a chore. I would rather spend the afternoon spreading soil than interacting with those scary, honest, little creatures.

I've spent the last 4 years teaching elementary school children, babysitting my sweet nieces, and nannying kids ages 1 month to 12 years. 

And I'm not the least bit less intimidated by those scary, honest, little creatures. 

God brought me to this life filled with these small, energetic, messy bundles. They terrify me to the core. If you're boring, they'll tell. If you don't meet their most basic needs, they die. The pressure, the terror, and the ultimate joy. 

When I wake up and realize I have to teach these 3rd graders, or remember I'm nannying for the day, the first feeling that passes through my body is complete and utter terror. Do parents realize what they're in trusting me with? I'm supposed to not only keep these kids safe, I'm supposed to entertain, nurture, and teach. I'd rather work at an office. 

But somehow, when I'm with these children, everything changes. Yes, absolutely, I get frustrated, and a little tired of playing the same games and watching the same television shows. I've learned ultimately though, that they aren't so difficult.

I ask a lot of questions, even the stupid ones, like "What's your favorite subject in school?" I smile til my cheekbones hurt. When they have a tantrum, I sit on the floor speaking calmly and saying on auto repeat "When you're ready to talk about what's going on, or just want a hug, I'm right here." I tell them stories from when I was a little ( a definite favorite) and make up stories about fairies and goblins. The days pass, somehow, and I leave feeling like I've actually accomplished something. I didn't build anything and I didn't make anything. Yet I kept these little souls alive and (mostly) smiling for the day. The complete and utter joy. 

I don't run away in fear anymore when I'm trapped in a small room with kiddos. I still get that tangled feeling in my insides when I see that 3 year old eyeing me. What if he doesn't like me? I've learned to keep little toys in my purse, and they come in handy when I'm stuck in a tire shop with a little kid who has absolutely nothing to do.

After all these years and all this experience, what have I learned it takes to make kids happy? It's not the toys I keep in my purse, or my clown smile, or my ready made no props games….it's talking to them. I have never ever ever in all my life talked to a child and had them reject me. Sure they could, but why would they? Another person taking interest in their life? Asking about their day, their likes, their dreams, who they want to be? Most kids will swallow that up, and I eat it up to. They think they can do anything, and I always leave them thinking that maybe I can do anything too. 

My Greatest Fears

In no particular order and without sense, rhyme, or reason….here they are: 

1. I'll have nothing to talk about at dinner parties

2, I'll never leave the country again

3, My husband will wish for somebody new

4. I'll finally get up the courage to vent my true feelings on a political issue and then change my mind the next day

5. My dog will run away and I'll not know if he's hungry, cold, or scared

6. The friends I don't keep in touch with will think I don't love them

7. Vampires

8. I won't be able to lose weight

9. All the thoughtless words I utter on the day of judgement 

10. I'll die of cancer…or a car accident..or die at all

11. All my books will be lost in a fire and an untimely iPad failure 

12.  Someone will say I'm not well-read

13 Or well traveled 

14. I'll be angry at my mom 

15. I'll never be able to frost a chocolate cake…that crap is hard

16. I won't be able to think of the perfect word I know I know at the moment I need it most

17. My kids won't be readers 

18. I'll forget the beauties of not knowing and the beauty of trying anyway 

19. I'll be so comfortable I never have to test myself

20. Zombies

21. My children will fail and I won't be able to save them

22. Roaches….just roaches

23. Nostalgia will always be better than my current life

24. Sex won't be all it's cracked up to be

25. Mississippi State will lose the Egg Bowl in the most humiliating way 

What Would You Do With It If You Caught It?

     My life is a mess. I'm pretty sure yours is too. Women, in general, tend to focus on the emotional aspect of life. Every past wrong, every good deed, every misunderstood action, somehow makes it to the forefront of our minds and actions.

     I like you, and then I'm not sure. I'm 100% ready to go through with this, and then I have cold feet. I want what's right, and then I sin. I'm a mess. A complete, utter, mess.

      Somehow, men are drawn to it. No matter how ridiculous I am, not matter what crap I post on Facebook, I come across as "mysterious." Women, without trying, come across as magical wonders who you can't pin down.

      Here's the question men: once we've let you in, once you've "figured me out" will I still be cute as a button? Once you learn that my idiosyncrasies arise from serious wounds from the past, once you see that me being "mysterious" is actually a total lack of not knowing what the hell I want, will I still be beautiful?

       If you caught me, what would you do with me? I'm guessing you have no clue. Before you start chasing after a girl with all this mystery, will these problems still seem beautiful during the day? Will you be there when I'm having an utter meltdown for no reason? Will you be there when I'm trying to work through family issues? Will you be there when I'm insecure, unkind, and selfish? 

       I can grow and my ultimate goal is to grow in Christ's love. I'll always be a mess,  but if you chase me, you might realize that I'm a mess that's truly broken to the core. I can love, I can do good, but I can't always be that tantalizing women of your dreams.

      If you caught me, could you deal with that? 

I Saw a Black Man the Other Day

The other day, I was in a bad neighborhood, trying to find my friend's apartment to grab a key. I parked behind a broken down pick up truck and looked for the right address.

I had the address wrong, so I looked up and down the street trying to find it. A few minutes passed and I saw a black man coming toward me.

He had a hoodie and a hat, a cigarette in his mouth and headphones in his ears. As I got close he saw me and said, "Hey, are you doing?"

I replied "Fine, have a nice day." 

I found the house and got my key. 

A Letter to Married Christian Women from a Single Woman

I've been single for far longer than I wanted to be. I've tried to ignore it by traveling, getting degrees, and basically doing anything to fill that aching void for a husband. It's so hard to be a Christian woman who isn't married but wishes she was.

So many Christian married women are unnerved by us or ignore us completely. Most of these women were married when they were fresh out of college, or found someone by accident when they weren't looking for it. Honestly, I'm glad for you. Yet when you use the tired line of "You want it too much" or "It'll happen when it happens" we single women die a little on the inside. 

You don't understand. 

You perhaps never had to deal with coming home to an empty apartment and deciding to fill it with animals, books, and wine. We are a strange breed. We become the desperate outcasts of the religious world. 

I have of course have my flaws. I am a broken person, daily being put together by the grace of Jesus Christ. I can't attain perfection in this world. I know this, and I am lonely for someone. I know a husband won't fix my problems. I know that in all actuality a whole new batch of problems will come if I ever get married.

I would like for a minute to talk about the realization of marriage. Yes, marriage is hard. The divorce rate is hovering around 50%. I'm still struggling with the whole "you should be happy you're single thing." The bottom line is that you get to come home to someone who's committed to you and who you're committed to. You get to come home to a family, sex, and a life that is highly valued in Christian society. You get someone to be at your bedside when you're dying. 

Single Christian women are not valued in society. We become babysitters, nannies, and someone you can always call on in a jam. We sit at the bar when there's a table left because there's a couple behind us. 

The thing is, I love being a babysitter, nanny, and sitting at the bar. I don't like it being expected and even required of me. 

Married Christian Women….take a second to value what you have. Realize that man was not made to be alone. Fix us up with people, even though it may be awkward. Don't ask us over just to babysit. Ask us over for a glass of wine or a pizza. When we cry that we are single, don't say it's not all it's cracked up to be or make us feel bad by saying all the things we need to do to make us worthy of a husband. Imagine that you are on your own, paying your own rent, without a husband or kids or a valued place at the Christian table. Don't give us platitudes. 

Repeat the gospel, that we have Christ and that IS enough, but affirm our natural desire to be married. Pray for a husband for us. Be our friends, and not just your potential babysitters. Let us catch a glimpse into the beautiful mess of married life. Acknowledge how we feel, and maybe even cry with us.