“I am not sure if I can wear this today. A teacher might say something.”
I glance over to my son as I place the car in park.
Plain black hoodie.
“What are you wearing that would require change?”
He lifts his dog tag necklace declaring Jesus as his king of kings.
“The last time a teacher saw me wear it, she told me to tuck it in. It might offend someone.” He replied.
I replied as any other angered mama bear would in the same situation. “So far as I know, you are a citizen of this United States and it’s still a thing to freely practice your religion here. You wear your necklace. And if another teacher says something, please take their name.”
Even as the statement passed my lips, unease set into my gut. I need to contact administration, but I don’t know what to say. I don’t have a teacher name. She was a test proctor, so she may not even be employed by the school. And really, no resolution can come from this, so why should I even open my mouth.
Heaven forbid I be lumped in with one of them.
You know them.
The weird Christians.
They’re the ones who got Halloween parades banned at school and raised a ruckus about Starbucks cups.
You never know what they’re going to do to cause the next national cringe in the name of Christ.
And while they live out their belief loudly, I continue to sit here and do nothing.
The homeless shelter in our community needs larger facilities and runs into continuous roadblocks to gain valuable ground to expand their services.
I do nothing.
Families disintegrate around me. Broken people looking for light and hope. Just a break from chaos, ugly and evil.
I say nothing.
My son, whose core character is to live quietly and peacefully with all who surround him, is approached by a teacher in what amounts to professional bullying.
I do nothing.
I don’t wanna be one of them.
I want to stay safe.
Because blogging on the internet to process your every thought and feeling is completely normal.
But I can’t stay safe any longer. Not in this world. Not in these bittersweet times when our nations are under attack. Not when so many need to see the light of hope in Christ – through me.
Christ did not come to judge the world but to save it with his life. And when he left, he told his people to go to all the ends of the earth with his message of hope.
That is so not safe.
But that’s all he asked his people to do. To believe him. To call upon his name and to go.
To do something.
I can’t do that without becoming one of them – okay, maybe not the Starbucks one- but still. I have to make my life count for the sole purpose of reaching another.
Not because God needs me to do it. But because he chose me to do it.
Regardless of race, religion, sexual orientation or past history. God is an equal opportunity God. He can take all that is broken and make something new.
He’s asking me to change my heart from fear to trust. To love the homeless man who walks the street and the foreign refugee torn from their home by war.
It’s not up to me to pick and choose.
His love is open to all.
First, I must surrender my safety to his mighty cause. I must realize people become the priority and because people are involved, it’s gonna be messy.
But I can’t coach from my couch in the game of life. I have to move from the sidelines and step into the game.
I have to go write an email.
What safety zone is God challenging you from today?