Black-eyed Peas and Amazing Grace
I grew up in Indiana. Although I was born in Alabama (Selma, to be exact) and spent my toddler years in Florida, the majority of my childhood was spent in northern Indiana. Four of my elementary school years were spent in a private Christian school with maybe a dozen African-American children in attendance, none of whom were in my class. We went to an all-white church that actively supported (and still does, I believe) native missionary pastors in India, who sometimes came to the States and spoke at our church. When we moved back to Alabama when I was 12, I was honestly a little afraid of the African-Americans I suddenly saw all around me in the community, not because I thought they were somehow inferior to me or some kind of threat, but because I had never been that close to any African-American before. I didn't know anyone with darker skin than mine; they were like someone from a different country, with a different culture and customs that you feel a little uncomfortable around until you get to know them. My new school (private Christian again) and church were still mostly populated by white people, so I had little chance to get to know any of my African-American neighbors and learn what it is like to walk in their shoes for a day.
Fast forward ten years. I went to Bible college in Florida and for the first time I made some black friends. The catch? They were Haitian Creole, Papau New Guinean and Nigerian. I find it interesting that the majority of American students at my college were white. Maybe because there aren't that many African-American churches in that denomination, I don't know. The only black students were from the countries listed above, and it was a pleasure to know them. They enriched my life and helped me see things from a different point of view, their cultures and experiences so different from mine, and yet in Christ we found common ground.
Since college, I have had the privilege of getting to know and befriending several African-Americans through work and community events, and I am glad to know them. I even attended an African-American church service once (purely by accident!), and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I don't care about their skin color; what matters is the common bond we share in Christ if they are Christians as well.
I was raised to treat all people with respect and courtesy, regardless of their skin color, mental intelligence, religious beliefs or the size of their bank account, and it is something I believe in deeply and strive to pass on to my children. Some of my favorite movies are Remember the Titans, The Greatest Game Ever Played, The Help, Glory Road and Hidden Figures--these all share a common theme of people who were treated unjustly because of who they were socially, economically or racially, and yet they rose above the prejudice and obstacles thrown in front of them to accomplish great things for the world. I especially love watching these movies with my children and talking with them about the difficulties the main characters faced and why and how they overcame them. I want them to grow up believing as my husband and I do that the only thing that truly matters about an individual is whether or not they know Jesus; everything else is inconsequential and should not affect our treatment of that person with dignity and grace.
But I would be lying to myself if I thought everyone else in the world believed the same. We live in a sinful world, no denying it, and it is easy for Christians to get caught up in the cultural values and belief systems that they live in instead of seeing things as God sees them. He created man with the potential for great diversity in skin color, eye color, hair color, etc., and He sees us all as beautiful, made in His image and worthy of love and respect, worth dying for.Jesus sees us all as someone worth dying for.
The thing is, I didn't choose to be born into a white American middle-class Christian family. So often I think, Wow! What if I had been born in a different country? In a different time period? What if I had been born into a non-Christian family? How would my life have been different then? I didn't choose to be born into the time and place and culture that I was; God chose to put me here in this position for a reason. So often I think of that verse in Luke 12:48b, "From everyone who has been given much, much will be required, and from the one who has been entrusted with much, even more will be asked" (NET). Or as the Message translates it, "Great gifts mean great responsibilities; greater gifts, greater responsibilities!"
I found this poem recently that I must have written right out of college (it was signed with my maiden name) that talks about these very blessings I've been given. I wanted to share it with you.
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Black-eyed Peas and Amazing Grace
I am from books, so many we have to build extra bookshelves to hold them all,
So many we read them and get rid of them
Only to buy more so we can read them and get rid of them
So we can buy more...
I am from music and laughter, Saturday morning cartoons,
Chores we wait until the last minute to do,
Christmas presents wrapped in the Sunday comic pages,
A round, black fireplace too big to reach around,
An out-of-tune piano that no one can play,
Though everyone tries.
I am from strawberries and flowers,
(1,500 planted in one summer!)
Maple trees cultivated from a seed,
Green lizards, captured for one day only and always named "Hermie",
Fall leaves, wet and brown from winter,
Cloaking the ground at Easter.
Daddy's shed--red with a big yellow smiley face you could see from the other side of the valley--
It always made me smile.
I am from both North and South,
From black-eyed peas and chicken fricassee,
Sweet tea and homemade ice cream sandwiches
(Two pieces of wheat bread embracing a slab of chocolate ice cream),
From "Float your own boat", "Sorry doesn't buy candy", and "No excuses, very few reasons".
From "Jesus Loves Me, This I Know" and "This Little Light of Mine",
In the church choir--alto, tenor, soprano, bass--
Southern gospel and Michael W. Smith.
"Is there a God?" Yes, there is. I know He is!
Bible story tapes listened to over and over again
(Elijah on Mt. Carmel, Queen Athaliah screaming, "Treason!")
Journals cried and prayed over,
The torture of Grandpa's home videos,
The fellowship and food of family reunions.
I am blessed to be where I'm from.
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I've never known persecution or discrimination because of my color, gender, nationality or religion, and I can only imagine the pain, anger, frustration and humiliation of those who do. I have many Christian brothers and sisters all over the world who experience these things, sometimes on a daily basis, and I pray for them as often as I think of them. Who's to say that one day I won't face the same problems that they do? Who's to say that any of us may not have to depend on God to react to such difficulties with grace and faith someday? In the meantime, I have been given so much. I ask myself, What am I doing with the gifts and blessings that God has given me? Am I reaching out to others, to the least of these? Am I sharing the love of Christ and the value He places on human life with those around me? Am I championing the misfortunes of those who have not been as blessed as I, have not had it as easy as I have? Or am I content to sit on my laurels, as it were, laurels I did nothing to earn or obtain, and ignore the lost and hurting world all around me?
Are you?
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