Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

justice

#Run4Refugees Day 1 (or why I’m covering 20 miles on foot this week)

From now until Saturday, my goal is to cover 20 miles on foot. I’m not journeying anywhere. I’ll be running and walking circles in my extended neighborhood. If you know me at all, you know that I’ve been running regularly for years. But this is no casual hobby this week.

Why am I doing this?

I’m raising money for CWS, a faith-based organization transforming communities around the globe through just and sustainable responses to hunger, poverty, displacement and disaster. Specifically, I’m aiding their #Run4Refugees campaign. While I’m covering these miles, I’m asking people to considering donating to CWS’ work in supporting refugees.

This is a cause and an organization I’ve supported for years, but it’s been a while since I talked about it. So, as I cover the miles this week, I’ll be sharing some reasons that I took on this challenge.

Today, I logged 4 miles, so here are 4 reasons. (I’ll share one for each mile I complete.)

Before I started today’s run. The humidity was brutal but not enough to stop me.
  1. Refugees are people. Maybe that sounds obvious, but what I really mean is that they are living, breathing human beings, not some abstract “issue” out there in the big, wide world. For years, I had the opportunity to meet refugees as they resettled in Lancaster, and every interaction reminded me that the “refugee crisis” I read about in the news or heard about on television was about real human beings. I have names and faces and conversations embedded in my heart and mind of people who made the “refugee crisis” real to me.
  2. Twenty miles is a distance that feels almost impossible. Maybe insurmountable. And it’s equal to the number of years some refugees spend in camps–in limbo between the home they fled and a country that will receive them. Twenty years of not knowing where or when or how your family will get by or thrive. I want to feel the weight of that number in my body.
  3. It’s something I can do. Often when presented with a big, global problem, we throw up our hands and wonder, “What can I do?” Will my running 20 miles in one week solve the refugee crisis? Nope. But it will provide much-needed funds and awareness for an issue that’s easy to dismiss because it’s “too big.” Can your donation solve the refugee crisis? No. But it could provide a health center visit for a family with a sick member or provide a meal for a family on their first night in the United States. You can donate here to help me reach and surpass my fundraising goal.
  4. Refugees are resilient. Because humans are resilient. I don’t believe refugees are some sort of special breed of human able to withstand more suffering than others. They keep going because humans have an unwavering will to survive. I set a goal to run 20 miles in one week, and these first four miles were tough. The humidity and my lack of hydration had me seeing white spots when I got home. I know I’m going to end up walking some of these miles. Maybe more than I want to. But the point is to keep going. Because humanity finds a way to survive.

Check back in throughout the week for more reasons I’m running 20 miles this week. And if you’re willing and able, please donate! Thank you!

Come, Lord Jesus

We were watching The Titan Games premiere last night when the news broke in with a special report. Our kids groaned and my husband quickly corrected them. “This is important,” he said. I reminded them that the show is accessible the next day. Just because we were missing something doesn’t mean we had missed it forever.

Lester Holt reported on protests and riots in cities across the nation, gatherings focused on the murder of George Floyd, a black man who was killed while in the custody of police, even after he begged for his life. “I can’t breathe,” he said as an officer knelt on his neck. I haven’t seen the video. Just the thought of it brings tears to my eyes.

For more than an hour, Phil and I watched the news reports. From California to Philadelphia. It was the most I had allowed myself to engage with the news, not because I don’t care but because I have a tendency to absorb all the hurt and suffering and pain into myself. I have to take the news in small, intentional doses and even though watching the news on Sunday night wasn’t my intention, I needed to see.

I went to sleep with images in my mind of a world on fire. In one city, the crowd emptied a trash can in the middle of the street and set it on fire. In another, people ran into shops whose windows had been broken, carrying out goods they didn’t pay for. In many cities, police were dressed in riot gear, armored trucks blocking off city streets. In one city, a woman screamed in the face of a police officer, trying to get him to react.

It’s just so sad. All of it.

And I don’t know what to say except the only prayer that makes sense:

“Come, Lord Jesus.”

Photo by Chris Liverani on Unsplash

—

“Come, Lord Jesus.”

I used to pray those words wishing that God would intervene in a world gone bad, that He would step in with something akin to a cosmic magic eraser and undo all the things we’d done wrong. “Come, Lord Jesus” was a plea of escape: Rescue us from this mess we’ve made.

Now, though, I see it differently. When I pray “Come, Lord Jesus,” it’s an invitation for God to step in, but not to make it all magically go away. Instead, it makes me think of one of the most familiar prayers of Christianity. When people asked Jesus to teach them to pray, he included these words: “Your kingdom come, Your will be done, On earth as it is in Heaven.”

To me, “Come, Lord Jesus,” is a plea for the earth to become more like heaven, like the world God intended. It is a prayer for the world to look more healed and whole than it does now. And I know that that doesn’t happen without human help.

Photo by frank mckenna on Unsplash

When I pray, “Come, Lord Jesus,” I’m asking God to come with me. I’m asking for His help to do what needs to be done. Because if His will is to be done on the earth as it is in heaven, it’s going to involve me. And you. And all of us.

I believe, in some way, God made the world. And I believe, in most ways, we humans have unmade it. And while I believe God could wipe it all out and start over, or miraculously make it all better, I don’t believe that’s the way it’s going to work. It is us, the ones whose feet walk the earth, who will make the kind of world we want to live in.

Come, Lord Jesus.

To me, it’s a prayer of belief in a better world.

And the catalyst for change.

I don’t always know what to do, but doing nothing is not an option. Praying for escape is not an option.

Today, I am watching. Listening. Speaking when I can. Listening some more. Weeping with those who weep. Acknowledging the suffering.

It is literally the least I can do.

If you also don’t know what to do, let’s start there, okay? 

Refuse to sit this one out, especially if you’re white.