Up until I turned 40, I don't think I ever stood up for anything important. When I was young, I stood up for rock bands, my right to stay out past midnight, my right to not believe in God (this, thankfully, was a quickly passing phase), my right to dress and say what I wanted, the right to get my hair cut in a way I knew my parents despised, my right to drink and smoke as much as I wanted and the right to be very (sometimes inappropriately) politically outspoken. At the time, "standing up" for those things made me feel powerful, as if I was in control and not just a kid living at home mooching off my parents. My friends encouraged me in these things. I was the "rebel," choosing a different way of acting, dressing, and speaking than most of the kids in my high school. I was certainly different from everyone in the big fancy Methodist Church downtown where my family had attended since I was three. Looking back, I can only imagine how embarrassed my parents must have been every Sunday when we walked all the way down the aisle to our seat near the front. Every other member of my family was dressed in appropriate church clothes, but schlepping behind in ragged boots, a long black thrift store duster, watches all up one arm, each one set to time in a different city, one Grateful Dead earring and lets don't even talk about the hair. I thought I was making a statement then. Don't be distracted by the black coat; Goth was not a trend then. Instead, I thought I was silently saying, "I don't care what you think about me. I'm smart, talented and a little crazy. Think what you want, but soon I'll have you in my rearview mirror when I'm off to my big shot life." My parents were probably making a silent statement too: "Please don't judge us by our daughter. We are hoping this will blow over." And in time, it did.
However, when I look back at the "rights" I defended so vocally then, I wonder why I wasn't concerned about real rights. What about an end to poverty, AIDS, discrimination against homosexuals, racism. Those kinds of things. I know those are heavy issues, and I was young, but I stayed silent even as I grew out of those younger years. During and after law school, all the way up until my fortieth birthday, I tried to avoid speaking about those issues with anyone. I was so afraid I would be judged as uneducated on the issues or as a "pot-stirrer" or a "malcontent." I was afraid that if they learned I disagreed with the majority on some political, social or religious issue, they wouldn't want to be friends with me. I had strong opinions about many of those kinds of important issues, but I was afraid to voice them for fear of being turned out of the tribe.
When I turned 40, I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. As I began my journey of learning and working for healing, I felt the fear that had glued my mouth shut so long begin to loosen. As my personal priorities of parenthood, marriage, physical health, my law practice and managing my Bipolar Disorder became more of a challenge, I found myself more willing to speak up for others who were facing those issues I had always avoided. As I had to summon up courage to face the fears in my own life, I started to see the fears of others. Also, as I grew in my walk with Christ, I realized that when he walked the earth He never stayed silent. He never spent his time with the pretty people, the yes men, the people who always say the "agreeable" thing.
So, now, when I hear someone use the "N word," or say that people who have sexual feelings for others of the same sex are unnatural or immoral or acting against the teachings of Christ or anything else that strikes me so deeply in my heart that I feel I must speak, I first dig deep then try to cool down. I try to remember that Christ was never afraid to speak the truth. I remind myself that Christ spoke THE truth, and that I will be speaking the truth as best I can see it through God's word and Christ's resurrection and life. Yes, I'm wrong some, and yes, I'm right some. But I'm no longer afraid to step off the edge and do my best to speak up for what I believe is the truth, no matter what.
Time brings change. Sometimes it's good.
However, when I look back at the "rights" I defended so vocally then, I wonder why I wasn't concerned about real rights. What about an end to poverty, AIDS, discrimination against homosexuals, racism. Those kinds of things. I know those are heavy issues, and I was young, but I stayed silent even as I grew out of those younger years. During and after law school, all the way up until my fortieth birthday, I tried to avoid speaking about those issues with anyone. I was so afraid I would be judged as uneducated on the issues or as a "pot-stirrer" or a "malcontent." I was afraid that if they learned I disagreed with the majority on some political, social or religious issue, they wouldn't want to be friends with me. I had strong opinions about many of those kinds of important issues, but I was afraid to voice them for fear of being turned out of the tribe.
When I turned 40, I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. As I began my journey of learning and working for healing, I felt the fear that had glued my mouth shut so long begin to loosen. As my personal priorities of parenthood, marriage, physical health, my law practice and managing my Bipolar Disorder became more of a challenge, I found myself more willing to speak up for others who were facing those issues I had always avoided. As I had to summon up courage to face the fears in my own life, I started to see the fears of others. Also, as I grew in my walk with Christ, I realized that when he walked the earth He never stayed silent. He never spent his time with the pretty people, the yes men, the people who always say the "agreeable" thing.
So, now, when I hear someone use the "N word," or say that people who have sexual feelings for others of the same sex are unnatural or immoral or acting against the teachings of Christ or anything else that strikes me so deeply in my heart that I feel I must speak, I first dig deep then try to cool down. I try to remember that Christ was never afraid to speak the truth. I remind myself that Christ spoke THE truth, and that I will be speaking the truth as best I can see it through God's word and Christ's resurrection and life. Yes, I'm wrong some, and yes, I'm right some. But I'm no longer afraid to step off the edge and do my best to speak up for what I believe is the truth, no matter what.
Time brings change. Sometimes it's good.
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