Sunday, November 22, 2009
It is so odd how we see the things we want to see.
You can live in Oxford for months before you notice a homeless person.
You can live for years and never do something to change the brokenness around you.
And I say this as an introspective view... it is so easy for me to do nothing.
Why do you think that we hide from what Jesus called us to? When we are called to the least of these, why is it that we forego our cross and tiptoe away? I used to believe it was due to my own laziness. It is simply easier to care about only myself.
Yet, I discovered something else tonight. The starting point is not my own selfishness. Underneath the self-interest, there is a deep fear of loving someone other than myself. To show that I care, to be vulnerable... it opens to the probability of making mistakes. There is something terrifying about talking to older, homeless men for an hour. The question always runs through my mind, "What do you really want?" Each person wants to be recognized as a human being... not some lower class write-off. At the same time, I want to be recognized as a human being also.
And, perhaps that is the irony of loving people. We all just want to be humanized again. And only Jesus' love poured out from people willing to pick up their crosses can do this.
Maybe that is why I find it so easy to disengage from the pain around me.
The path that Jesus walked was hard.
But also beautiful.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
I wrote this last week on a scrap of paper at a local cafe...
Right now I am sitting with two lovely friends in Georgina’s coffee shop, a hidden treasure within Oxford’s Covered Market.
There is nothing quite so wonderful as sipping on a creamy cup (frosted in whipped cream) when you are laughing with such enjoyable friends. The Beatles playing in the background. The tap tap of computer keyboards. Bleak House criticisms spread out over the wooden table. Red and nearly obnoxious pink walls. A decoupaged ceiling. I love it here.
Just thought I'd share that with you.
PS - This is my friend Kate, who is fabulous. She has such a wonderful sense of humor and reminds me of Andrei as a childhood friend. Here we are sharing nachos (which, from what I can tell, are a RARE delicacy in England.) These were good. Not Mexican by any means... but good. Also, notice in the picture above that Kate is attempting to steal my drink. Shameless...