Before you begin, know that the ending of this writing surprised me. I wasn't initially planning on writing about social issues or society's lost things -- just my own. And even in writing this, I feel the need to preface it with a disclaimer: I'm still figuring out what this means, and how this is reflected in my own life. Still figuring out how God can -- and will -- use me to help recover these lost things. Thanks for reading. With love, Brooke
Last week, I texted my sister:
"I'm bored with my clothes. I need a new style."
She enthusiastically agreed to help me discover a new style, but she helped me realize that "a new style" is not actually what I wanted -- I just needed new clothes. She pointed out to me that all the clothes I was showing her I liked were pretty much the same as they have been for awhile, but that what she thought I was really after was getting back to dressing up again. You used to wear dresses all the time, she said, and I think you want that again. Sisters are wise.
What I wanted was to recover a part of me that I had lost.
And so I've been reflecting on that "lost thing" in my life, and contemplating other lost things. Though this thought train is still chugging along and nowhere near the end of the line, I feel compelled to share where I am right now anyway.
There are lots of things we lose throughout our lives, some inconsequential and some of great importance, some tangible and others not. Other things we fear losing because of their value and worth to us, and we do our absolute best to make sure we don't lose them.
I lose sunglasses on a regular basis. Bobby pins, tweezers, nail clippers, hair ties, water bottles. I constantly have to replace them. But somewhere along the way, along the paths traveled and the cities explored and lived, I've also lost things that mean more than another $5 trip to the store.
Besides caring about what I look like and walking out of the house in something other than t-shirts & jeans, I've lost hugs. There's not much better than being wrapped in a huge hug. In fact, if I wasn't hugging you, there was likely something wrong between us or I felt awkward around you for some reason. But I think I was pressured one too many times that interacting with people like that was inappropriate or might lead someone on or was immodest. And just like that, hugs became questionable. It was easier to lose them, I think, than to keep fighting.
I've lost, I think through busyness and stress and depression, my love of celebrating holidays and traditions, of finding real joy in the little things in life. I still do these things, but it's with a tempered joy, rather than fully embracing life in these moments.
There are, of course, other things that I've lost and to which I said "Good Riddance!" Caring so much about what others think. The inability to discuss those most intimate and personal secrets with others. Fear of people who are different. Fear of....well, fear of lots of things. Spending lots of money all the time. Anxiety. I'm not surprised these things have disappeared from my life. None of them are especially reflective of Christ, and as He tells us in His Word that He's continually making us more like Him, I would expect us to shed these things like snakes shed their skins.
But lost things are not just personal. Socially (and in the church), we've lost a lot of things we need to work to recover.
Hospitality that isn't just about hosting a well thought out party (though who doesn't love a good party??), but is about inviting the lost, lonely, hurting, and discarded-by-the-world into our lives & homes. Hospitality that says, "I see you. Because He sees you. And we're in this together."
Listening with respect (and not self-righteousness or hidden agendas) to people whose lives and beliefs differ from our own.
The ability to grieve & mourn, celebrate & rejoice together without throwing blame or trying to take people down a notch.
We've lost a togetherness, and an awareness of the community in which we live -- a community we're part of simply because we're all human. All made in the image of God.
I fear we've lost the ability to look in someone else's eyes and see the value and worth inside them because they are people. To see and hear their stories, to love them in their pain & joy, in our differences.
We've lost people physically, to death. But we've also lost people emotionally and mentally, who feel they can't keep beating their heads against walls that won't move or living a life in which no one cares about them. We've lost people spiritually, because our first reaction isn't always to shout an invitation to live life together, but is far too often to hold people at arms' length or recoil back because they're not like us. Or because we hear and see awful things happening in the world and DO NOTHING.
We should be crying over the people, over the attitudes that have brought us here, over the hate and injustice that we see. We should be extending hands of love and mercy and truth, fighting to recover those things we've lost.
As Christ works in our lives and recovers & redeems our personal lost things, I believe He can use us -- and wants to use us -- to help recover these precious lost things & people in the world.
It's not easy, this job of recovering lost things. And it's impossible alone. But we're not alone, are we? We've got each other. And for those of us who believe, we've got Christ.
That's all we need to love better & change the world.
Last week, I texted my sister:
"I'm bored with my clothes. I need a new style."
She enthusiastically agreed to help me discover a new style, but she helped me realize that "a new style" is not actually what I wanted -- I just needed new clothes. She pointed out to me that all the clothes I was showing her I liked were pretty much the same as they have been for awhile, but that what she thought I was really after was getting back to dressing up again. You used to wear dresses all the time, she said, and I think you want that again. Sisters are wise.
What I wanted was to recover a part of me that I had lost.
And so I've been reflecting on that "lost thing" in my life, and contemplating other lost things. Though this thought train is still chugging along and nowhere near the end of the line, I feel compelled to share where I am right now anyway.
There are lots of things we lose throughout our lives, some inconsequential and some of great importance, some tangible and others not. Other things we fear losing because of their value and worth to us, and we do our absolute best to make sure we don't lose them.
I lose sunglasses on a regular basis. Bobby pins, tweezers, nail clippers, hair ties, water bottles. I constantly have to replace them. But somewhere along the way, along the paths traveled and the cities explored and lived, I've also lost things that mean more than another $5 trip to the store.
Besides caring about what I look like and walking out of the house in something other than t-shirts & jeans, I've lost hugs. There's not much better than being wrapped in a huge hug. In fact, if I wasn't hugging you, there was likely something wrong between us or I felt awkward around you for some reason. But I think I was pressured one too many times that interacting with people like that was inappropriate or might lead someone on or was immodest. And just like that, hugs became questionable. It was easier to lose them, I think, than to keep fighting.
I've lost, I think through busyness and stress and depression, my love of celebrating holidays and traditions, of finding real joy in the little things in life. I still do these things, but it's with a tempered joy, rather than fully embracing life in these moments.
There are, of course, other things that I've lost and to which I said "Good Riddance!" Caring so much about what others think. The inability to discuss those most intimate and personal secrets with others. Fear of people who are different. Fear of....well, fear of lots of things. Spending lots of money all the time. Anxiety. I'm not surprised these things have disappeared from my life. None of them are especially reflective of Christ, and as He tells us in His Word that He's continually making us more like Him, I would expect us to shed these things like snakes shed their skins.
But lost things are not just personal. Socially (and in the church), we've lost a lot of things we need to work to recover.
Hospitality that isn't just about hosting a well thought out party (though who doesn't love a good party??), but is about inviting the lost, lonely, hurting, and discarded-by-the-world into our lives & homes. Hospitality that says, "I see you. Because He sees you. And we're in this together."
Listening with respect (and not self-righteousness or hidden agendas) to people whose lives and beliefs differ from our own.
The ability to grieve & mourn, celebrate & rejoice together without throwing blame or trying to take people down a notch.
We've lost a togetherness, and an awareness of the community in which we live -- a community we're part of simply because we're all human. All made in the image of God.
More than these things, though, as important as they are, is what we've lost because of the loss of them: people. We've lost so many precious people, so many lives, stories, hearts, and souls. Because of violence. Because they're different and we don't want to hear them. Because of racism, injustice, hate, oppressive systems. Because of pride and fear.
We've lost people physically, to death. But we've also lost people emotionally and mentally, who feel they can't keep beating their heads against walls that won't move or living a life in which no one cares about them. We've lost people spiritually, because our first reaction isn't always to shout an invitation to live life together, but is far too often to hold people at arms' length or recoil back because they're not like us. Or because we hear and see awful things happening in the world and DO NOTHING.
We should be crying over the people, over the attitudes that have brought us here, over the hate and injustice that we see. We should be extending hands of love and mercy and truth, fighting to recover those things we've lost.
As Christ works in our lives and recovers & redeems our personal lost things, I believe He can use us -- and wants to use us -- to help recover these precious lost things & people in the world.
It's not easy, this job of recovering lost things. And it's impossible alone. But we're not alone, are we? We've got each other. And for those of us who believe, we've got Christ.
That's all we need to love better & change the world.
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