Diversified

It was a foggy sunrise this morning at the Hanley MetroLink station. I really wanted to hide in that cloudy shroud, but it didn't seem to cover my lily white skin as much as I would have liked. I tried to act like I knew what I was doing. Thought, If I act like I've done this before no one will know I just broke down Comfort Zone Barrier #1, right? Probably could've pulled that off had I not just walked past the ticket kiosk before asking the security guy where I get tickets.

And once on the platform, which way do the trains come from? Do I ask someone? Do I make eye contact? Nope. Independent Me is going to act like I'm bored, yawn a little, and calmly scan every bit of signage I can make out through the fog. Didn't work. A kind elderly black man pointed me in the right direction after offering me a seat.

So why am I so stuck in the suburbs? Why was I so extremely uncomfortable being the only white woman at the station? I mean, I've traveled the world. I know all about cultural sensitivity, right? I mean, I carry a Honduran purse and have a cool wooden keychain that says "Honduras." I ate at Qdoba for dinner - ya know, white girls' mexican food. I sponsor a World Vision child from Swaziland. And well, the whole malaria thing, that really makes me cultural, right? Oh, and one of my favorite CDs is Nicole C. Mullen. And man, she rocked Scottrade Center today! That all makes me a well-rounded, culturalized soccer mom, eh?

But seriously, my own city? I feel more comfortable flying across oceans to remote villages than riding the metro? That's just shear stupidity. Ignorance of a suburbanite. And I'm ashamed.

One of the most profound moments I've ever had in my walk with the Lord was the first year I went to Honduras. I remember singing and clapping in the little village's church as they praised God in worship in Spanish. Somehow it finally clicked: I've been worshiping the Great American God of Abundance; I've had an American God all my life. And in that moment I was given a purer glimpse of the God of the Universe. Oh, I've known in my head He's the God of the Universe. But seeing the diversity of His children as they praised Him for what He had given them - Himself - it just made me want to hang my head in shame. I had considered God's "blessings" to be the things of this world, rather than the pure love that He has for all of us. And that's a blessing we all have available to us.

That's what Love. Loud. is all about. It's about breaking down barriers and loving beyond borders. It's about making the available love of our God the tangible, realized love of God.

So my first step to getting myself "diversified?" Heading down with RR to the inner city to hand out sandwiches and water to the homeless.

Jesus said, "I have come that they may have life, and have it abundantly." Abundant life doesn't equal a posh, suburbanite life with all the trimmings. It's the moments when we are held by Him because of our need. That's when we truly realize how abundant life is with Him.

All in a day's work...

Jacob hollars from the garage, "Mommy, I potty in da twunk." Of the van. Um-hum.

Em informs me, "There's so much drama in 4th grade." Yup. Get used to it.

Grant is positive the yellow on his teeth is supposed to be there. God made it that way.