A Picture of Ferguson, Missouri

You have probably noticed there isn’t one.

I looked for a picture of Ferguson that didn’t have police lined-up across from citizens or chalk outlines of bodies on the asphalt or clever protest signs. I grew tired of looking.

I simply wanted to write about Ferguson and its struggles with words that would provide the space we all need to grapple with the problems and handle the results of confrontation, death, peaceful demonstrations, riots, prospects of grand jury indictments. And the incredible sadness of a community where the pictures are all of trouble.

And, I wasn’t hoping to show a peaceful Ferguson in an effort to downplay all that is at risk there today. I was hoping to show a town much like the towns we know. Towns not caught in the public spotlight. Places where mistakes are made and bad things happen, but we have a sense that, overall, people are trying to do the right thing. I was hoping that there was a time when Ferguson was like that.

From what some would say, there may not be a picture of a truly peaceful Ferguson in recent history — perhaps decades. I don’t know. I don’t have enough information.

I read a blog post earlier today that said I shouldn’t write anything about Ferguson if I was going to say “I don’t know” or “I don’t have enough information.” But I don’t have the information that can positively place blame on one side or the other. I don’t know what the outcome should be.

So, here is what I do know.

  • It is a shame whenever anyone’s life is taken by violence, whether justified or not.
  • Minorities, especially African Americans, are involved in confrontations (often deadly) with police at a much higher rate than white Americans.
  • To some degree, that higher rate is the result of personal and institutional racism. (Sorry, I don’t know to what degree. I am not smart enough to read and interpret all of the statistics. But I’m not dumb enough not to understand the implications.  If you are offended by my use of the word “racism,” I apologize for making you uncomfortable. But, it’s an accurate word. Discrimination based on race is racism. Our systems do discriminate.)
  • People across the ethnic spectrum misbehave and make mistakes.
  • It is not wrong to enforce laws for the good of society regardless of a person’s race or the color of their skin.
  • It is wrong to hand out justice inconsistently based on race and skin color.
  • Because of past history with our justice system, many of our friends and neighbors who are not white will not trust an outcome by that system — in Ferguson or elsewhere — if it does not result in an indictment against the police officer. Their experience makes the system suspect.
  • If the system is corrupt, it needs to be changed. If people are corrupt, they need to be replaced.
  • This is a horrible situation.
  • We each — every one of us — need to find one piece of holy, common ground to start the conversation and the healing.

And that is where most of us will say, “I don’t know” how to find that one piece of holy ground.

Let me offer this.

Find one person who does not share your racial background. Sit with them and talk quietly about this. Listen. Don’t expect to solve all of the problems. Do expect to discover holy ground. Don’t make it your job to persuade the other person. Do make it your job to understand the other person. If your relationship permits, pray with the other person. If you don’t have a praying relationship, pray that you will.

If you can’t do that, please pray that others can have the conversation.

And while the blog post I read earlier tells us that we should be ashamed to say “I don’t know” or “I don’t have enough information,” I can’t be tagged with that shame as long as I am listening and searching for the answers. With understanding, we come to that place of knowing.

We should pray for hundreds of thousands of these conversations. Even if that quest for holy ground only saves one life . . . even if it only helps one individual make a better decision, it will be worth the effort. I know that it will do far more.

I can guarantee that the holy ground discovered will be exponentially larger than that small stretch of asphalt in Ferguson where tragedy occurred. Even if we don’t know — and may never know — the full story of that tragedy.

Who are you listening to today?

Day 12 – Re-entry

Boarding our red-eye flight from Nairobi to Amsterdam brought a sense of relief. Our team of peacemakers was tired and we were eager to see family and friends back home. Yet, our relief was not about our re-entry to our own lives and routines. No, we were just pleased to finally be beyond the checkpoints and into a series of flights and layovers that would be routine.

Well, that didn’t quite work out.

That first leg of our flight was uneventful with the excellent level of service we had come to expect from a KLM-Royal Dutch Airline crew. Polite, helpful staff, clean airplane, and excellent dining. Most of us tried to follow the advice we had received to “sleep on the first flight — stay awake on the second” in order to ease jet lag on re-entry. Well, let me put it this way. I followed the advice. The rest of the team managed to get seats in pairs. So, it’s possible that they decided that this ten hours was better spent in conversation. The German guy next to me simply put his blanket over his head before we left Nairobi — a pretty clear signal that we wouldn’t be talking.

The blanket did come off the German quite rapidly when we touched down in Amstersdam. And I heard more words from my seatmate in 10 seconds than I had in 10 hours. German words. Although I’m pretty sure they weren’t nice German words.

2014-10-01 08.39.04Of course, almost everyone came to attention at that moment. Within seconds of touching down, the 747’s brakes malfunctioned and locked on the right side of the plane and we rapidly came to a stop, nose and right gear off the runway. (Later we would learn that the captain accomplished a heroic feat in keeping the plane upright.) Our great crew put us all at ease and we watched from inside as fire trucks, ambulances, and light trucks began to surround us.

2014-10-01 08.39.16Thankfully, no one was seriously hurt. We began the slow process of deplaning, boarding buses, and making the 15 minute journey to the terminal. The flight attendants, ever friendly, invited me out on the stair platform for fresh air and to shoot a few pictures while Aaron, Betty, and I waited for the last buses.

We had a 5-hour layover, so none of us were concerned except . . .

2014-10-01 08.42.45Did I mention that Betty and Robyn were leaving us in Amsterdam and flying to London to attend a special event honoring Nanon Williams, Betty’s co-author of The Darkest Hour? So I probably didn’t mention that their layover wasn’t as long as ours, did I?

2014-10-01 08.41.38Nevertheless, the dynamic duo did make it on board a plane bound for Merrye Olde England, without bags, of course. And the rest of us took advantage of our remaining layover to charge phones, grab a bite to eat, and stand in line for the ever-present security checkpoint.

The last leg of our journey into the United States was uneventful. I watched 3 movies in a row, ate the two meals that were served, and walked the aisles to stay awake. I was determined to conquer jet lag.

Leaving the plane in Dallas, we made our way through passport control and down to baggage claim. Because of the mishap in Amsterdam, there were no bags. But the KLM agent we contacted had documents waiting for us. Aaron, Allison, Dan, and Malcolm would need to return to DFW for theirs. Mine would be flown on to Abilene.

So, we said goodbye. Hugs and a few tears. Then, we parted.

Re-entry. Initially it seemed it involved a few plane rides, gathering our belongings, and a short drive home. But in the ensuing weeks, we found it was much, much more.

Re-entry came to be about a far different worldview from that we had experienced in Rwanda and Kenya. Re-entry surfaced as a longing and loneliness for the new African friends we had made. Re-entry became a complicated attempt to extricate ourselves from the daily lives and routines of our life-long partners in this adventure.

Africa Team

Photo: Betty Gilmore

Betty, Robyn, Allison, Dan, Malcolm, Aaron, and I had formed a bond that was stronger than any of us had anticipated. We had become brothers and sisters in a very special calling.

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.” Matthew 5:9.

Day 10 – Creation

I realize that when most of us talk about creation, we are limiting our comments to those things immediately before us or those things fixed in our memories. Sensational sunrises. Majestic mountains. Verdant valleys. Babbling brooks. Kind and caring people. Yet, pieces of creation await discovery by all of us. Our day in Kenya was a time of wonder as we boarded a pop-top van and headed on safari to see wild animals in their native habitat.

IMG_1169Jackson, our African friend and safari guide, picked us up at 5 a.m. The animals begin their day early at the Nairobi National Park and were expecting us when we rolled up to the gate. The lions were roaring not too far from us. And the monkeys, the “common thieves,” were perched warily in the trees just hoping that we would leave items unattended.

IMG_1170After paying our fees, we reboarded our van and Jackson began the painstaking task of stalking the great beasts of the plain. We were not to be disappointed. A few minutes into our journey, we rounded a bend in the road and were met by a solitary giraffe.

Just moments later, we scrambled to view a creature that had scurried across the road and who waited for us to pass — the elusive bunny rabbit of the Serengeti. We laughed a bit over our eagerness to see anything in this new setting, our new view of creation.

IMG_1180Malcolm remained watchful. Constantly on the lookout for lions, he never lost hope. But alas, the lions chose not to reveal themselves on this outing.

Betty remained in place as our vigilant leader. Camera in hand, she held us spellbound with her knowledge of African wildlife . . . or something like that.

IMG_1188Meanwhile we enjoyed the thrill of our open-air, standing tour of the plain and the constant challenge of spotting God’s creatures.

Animals were everywhere! Herds of zebra and antelope, mixed in with a few wildebeest were consistently present. What better way to record one’s visit to Kenya than with a few selfies with these majestic beasts.

IMG_1194Some photos turned out better than others.

Remarkably, most of these wonderful creatures were undisturbed by us and the clicking of our camera shutters and, occasionally, squeals of delight — primarily from Allison and Betty.

A few of the animals weren’t interested in making our acquaintance. This rhinoceros, for example, was a little standoffish. And even at a distance, he looked threatening.

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The variety of animals was amazing and despite the missing lions, we were greatly amazed at our new discoveries of creation.

Jackson had one more surprise for us — baby elephants!

We may be limited in our ability to comprehend all of God’s creation. But what a wonderful gift we receive when we can fully see the creation right in front of us.

 

 

Day 9 – Reset

With our landscape rapidly shifting behind us from Rwanda to Kenya, our team began the traveler’s necessary task of reorienting and redirecting. I found a great deal of comfort in walking to the Octagon multi-purpose building on the Made In The Streets Ministry outside of Nairobi, the meeting place of the Kamulu Church of Christ. Where better to reorient and redirect than in worship and Bible study? I could also sense a great anticipation from all of the team, as we approached this time to reset our priorities and meet new friends in a place so far from our homes.

Photo: Allison Witucki Russell

Photo: Allison Witucki Russell

Photo: Allison Witucki Russell

Our Sunday morning adventure didn’t disappoint. For the first time, we were able to gather with nearly 100 children who had been invited to leave the tough streets of Nairobi to enter the world of Made In The Streets and a future marked with hope.

We were overwhelmed by this opportunity. The worship was different from our experience in Kigali just seven days before. But although this sanctuary didn’t feature giant sound systems, multiple choirs, and a huge crowd, the spirit and the enthusiasm was there. Seems like you can always see that when God is in a place.

Photo: Allison Witucki Russell

Photo: Allison Witucki Russell

Much of the singing was in Swahili. You haven’t experienced worship until you sing in Swahili — made all the better when you have Malcolm McGuire and Betty Gilmore joining in at your side. We were surrounded by Kenyans and moved by their desire to welcome us into this holy place. Holy place? Not just the church service. The holy place that emerges whenever people come together to do good.

Our gang of peacemakers and travelers were, just moments before, weary and somewhat leery of what was to come. Our shift in training was from adults to children. And, these children. Could we connect with kids who have been through what these have? Living on the streets of Nairobi. Many involved with drugs and crime. Plucked out of a desperate place and dropped here. Here. Right in the lap of people who loved God and, thus, loved them.

Our trial session came that afternoon. Malcolm and Aaron took the lead. For two hours they stood before the recent graduates of Made In The Streets. These 18 and 19 year olds were about to be sent out to jobs they had been trained for and into a world that was waiting for them. And, thanks to Malcolm and Aaron, with some conflict resolution skills that would serve them well.

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As the sun went down in Kamulu, we knew that we had been given this day to reset our outlook and our priorities. In the words of a song we would sing with the children in the next couple of days, “this was the day that the Lord had made” . . . for us.

Day 8 – Contrast

The private bus was waiting for us as we trudged up the hillside at ALARM Rwanda. We loaded our luggage and said goodbye to the ALARM staff already on duty that Saturday morning. Our dear friend and the Alarm Rwanda National Coordinator, Ben Nkusi, was there with a big smile and, if I read them correctly, eyes that were a little sad. There is something that touches the deepest part of our hearts when we see that kind of contrast.

I tried to say goodbye to Ben, but he waved me off. “I’m coming with you to the airport,” he said. When I tried to tell him that wasn’t necessary, he simply asserted, “You are my responsibility. It is my duty to see you safely out of Rwanda.”

And so we all boarded that bus. The driver, his helper, Ben, and seven tired, but incredibly blessed travelers. We were closing out an incredible chapter of our journey and we were already beginning to fill the ache of leaving friends who had just recently been strangers. We were seeing the contrast between our lives before and after we had experienced this wonderful part of Africa and had come to know the people.

At the airport, we said our goodbyes to Ben at the security checkpoint. We had a little extra time — Betty had to look for her passport. But then, papers in order, we filed in, filled out more forms, and negotiated passport control.

The first bit of business was coffee and souvenirs. Our busy itinerary while in Rwanda had not allowed a time for shopping and we all had lists of people we wanted to include in our travel experience. We were soon on board RwandAir Flight 400 to Nairobi. More coffee, a surprisingly nice breakfast, and air-conditioned comfort.

Through passport control in the capital of Kenya, we claimed our bags and made our way to the front of the airport to await our ride with Jackson to our new destination, the Made In The Streets Ministry in Kamulu, just outside of Nairobi.

Photo: Betty Gilmore

Photo: Betty Gilmore

Jackson came in his family vehicle. With luggage and seven of us, we joked about being overloaded. Jackson remarked, “We have room for 6 more Kenyans.” And, despite the cramped quarters, we came to believe that there probably was. The traffic was even crazier than what we had seen in Rwanda. Including the necessity of dealing with “cows doing what cows do,” as Jackson would say.

Everything on the drive seemed crowded. The clean streets and green hills of Rwanda had given way to the dust, the litter, and the throngs of people and cars. Another contrast.

When we arrived at Kamulu, Jackson unlocked the gate to the housing compound. We were beginning to understand that we were in a far different place. Heavy iron gates. Ten-foot walls with wire netting extending 4 feet beyond. A guest house with bars on the window and steel doors with massive bolts. And Jackson’s admonition to keep the doors locked at all times.

In truth, we were very safe and secure. But we were safe because the routine here demanded vigilance.

Our hosts, Charles and Darlene Coulson, soon dropped by and oriented us to the operation of the guest house. That included a lesson in flushing the toilets. We were all quick studies when it came to the bucket flush.

2014-09-27 08.44.15After we had settled in, the Coulsons took us on a tour of Made In The Streets Ministry. We walked down dusty dirt streets and took in not one, but a number of compounds. We saw the learning center, the girls living area, one of the boys living areas, the

Photo: Aaron Horn

Photo: Aaron Horn

chapel. And dusty roads. As we watched the little clouds of dirt around our feet, we were told how fortunate we were that it wasn’t the rainy season. The dust turned to sticky mud and everyone wore heavy overshoes — gum boots. In fact, just in case, there were boots in the guest house.

We were eager to meet the children and we soon begin that process. But even with that excitement, we were dealing with the contrasts brought on by our short plane ride from Rwanda and Kenya. And those contrasts and these kids would touch the deepest parts of our hearts.

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