The Blue Horse:

Bare with me.

On Wednesday night I have the greatest group of prayer partners. They are all under 10 years old. I often have to explain what we are praying for and we do a lot of jumping, yelling and laughing during our prayers. They NEVER pray about stuff they don't care about. They don't care if they should care about it or if I have told them to pray about it 10 times. They always pray what they do care about – even if each other child has prayed for it. TWICE. They go ahead and cover it again. Cat health over presidential elections. This last Wednesday night I mentioned that a friend of mine was having trouble with schizophrenia and he really needed our prayers. Blank stares. Quick definition pulled out of my ear: When your brain tells you horrible lies again and again and you can't make it stop – like “nobody loves you, your life is terrible, people want to hurt you, God can't forgive you, and you should just die.” This prayer request got covered TWICE by EVERYBODY in our little circle. This is serious business – you know – when your brain gets out of control like that.

So last night our family was reviewing our verse for this year, “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” Phil 4:8.

Jarod pulled out the command: Do NOT think about a blue horse. Immediately Jude began to giggle. Then Jarod said it again and Jude got very serious for three seconds and then began to giggle. Jarod asked what he was thinking about and Jude totally shocked said, “A blue horse. I CAN'T stop thinking about it.” Three minutes this went on – him trying to control his mind as Jarod told him to STOP thinking about it. Our 7 year old came to the stark realization that you can not focus on NOT focusing on something and was a ASTONISHED by this truth. Few moments are as rewarding in parenthood as when you see your small child grasp a large truth. We began to focus on thinking about a sunset (all-be-it a blue horse galloped across it at first.)

February 2011 Andrea challenged me to write down 1000 things I was grateful for. I finished this morning. It shouldn't have taken 2 years. (Especially since I wrote the last 46 this morning in 12 minutes.) But you see... I spend a lot of time listening to the blue horses in my head and then focusing on NOT thinking about the blue horses. I forget to focus on the fullness of the sunset – I forget the truths – I forget to take time to count. I'm a little spiritually mentally ill. A little bit of a child. I am thankful that the mentally ill and the children are willing to teach me. These things need double prayer to heal. SO I'll keep counting...

P.S. Jessice Poundstone – the big black blank book gifted to me over 8 years ago. It is full. Thank you for having faith that God would fill my life with thoughts for that great blankness that sat in front of me. 

It Takes a Bucket of Salt

So a modern virtue – only to be rivaled in popularity by tolerance – is diversity. This week FHSU will have it's annual “Celebration of Diversity” - which in actuality is nothing more than Chinese New Year celebrated on the High Plains. Now don't get me wrong, I love this celebration and I love that Hays now has Chinese people to put it together – it's all very marvelous.

However, I think if we re going to tout “diversity” as a virtue, we need to recognize the degrees of diversity which may or may not exist in our lives. Going to a Celebration of Diversity is embracing diversity about as much as a 3^rd grader passing out an “I love you” sweet-tart is exemplifying love. Eating Sushi and Gumbo do not make us cultured individuals anymore than a mouse in a cookie jar makes him a cookie. Same goes for loving “cute little African babies” or marching for some under-served, marginalized, or neglected group of persons. Marching is good. Also I love babies with wacky hair – of all races.

However, I have been thinking so much lately about how these warm-fuzzy-feeling demonstrations of our “diversity” virtue may be a nice cover up for the true virtue that is much more difficult to embrace.

Because here is the thing. Actually adhering to a virtue – I find – seldom makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. Mostly it makes me cry. Mostly, I am CHANGED by the virtue to which I adhere... (adhere – like glue – like stick myself to it and then hold on for the ride.) I think God is all about diversity because it HUMBLES us. (Well, that and because He talks about it a lot in the Bible – in ways that make people feel REALLY uncomfortable.) Other people may be changed by marches, donations to causes, demonstrations of culture, etc, etc. But I am changed when I asked people VERY different from me INTO my life. Like to participate with me in education, work, family, and cooking. Really – especially with cooking – and recycling – and grocery shopping. It gets tricky.

Because people who are DIFFERENT from us DO things DIFFERENT – THAN us. It's profound. I know. And when they spend their money or time differently than everyone else we know (including ourselves) it removes a blind spot – it removes a, “That's how it's always been done.” And eventually – all these blind spots are opened and you experience disequilibrium because all this time you thought there was only one way to eat a grape and one way to use the restroom. But then you find out you are wrong. And then you cry. And then those other people who are being diverse with you cry. And then you tell each other all of the millions of things that you see each other doing every single day. And it hurts.

It hurts to have someone point out how you waste perfectly good pineapple cores and your kids dump milk out EVERY SINGLE DAY, and you probably shouldn't have waxed your eyebrows that way, and you really could eat healthier, and you really could be more intelligent in your uses of modern technology, and, and, and....

And then you realize that the reason people only SAY they like diversity but avoid people of different age groups, disabilities, religions, economic status, childhoods, education, political thinking, race, and personality type – is because it is honestly VERY uncomfortable for the status quo.

Every word and action of those VASTLY different from us must not be taken with a grain of salt but with a whole bucket. I dump buckets of salt on myself every night when I go to bed. It is called grace and it's called prayer, and this is how the bucket goes,

“Wow God, a lot of crazy stuff went down today. I said a lot of stupid things. I did a lot of stupid things. Some pretty amazing people in my life called me out on a lot of them. Thank you for that. Please give other people the grace to hear the heart behind all that I say and do. Please give me the grace to do the same. Thank you for revealing new blind spots in my life... give me the courage to change based on the new info. Thank you for this salt to heal the wounds... but ummm... it's kinda slow – old-school medicine. Could we try something a bit quicker? Just a thought.”

So – do not fear the diversity... just make sure you have plenty of salt.

Also, I recognize the irony that I am writing this in Hays, Ks.

You need not point it out.