My whole entire life, since birth I imagine, I have been a justice woman. I was hands down the most stubborn, persistent and determined child in our family and I wouldn't be surprised if a few of my moms grey hairs, if not all of them, came from me battling, arguing and relentlessly fighting for one cause or another. If I wasn't defending my own case I took up the cause of another and fought for them too. I couldn't help it. It is in my DNA.
My passion for justice was only fueled when we moved to Brazil. I remember walking to school from our house as though it was yesterday. I had my new Jansport back pack on, my bangs were perfectly teased and hairsprayed to epic hights of perfection, I was proudly sporting my really amazing leggings, high tops and my t-shirt was tied in a knot on my hip.
Our house was on the top of a hill, it was surrounded by 12 foot walls with cut glass all along the top to keep us safely inside and intruders out. We had a huge iron gate with spears at the top of it that we kept locked at all times. There was a beautiful vine with yellow flowers that grew up over the wall, the flowers smelled amazing and I remember finding so much comfort in their beauty as we played inside our little fortress.
As my dad and I exited the gate and walked down the cobblestone road I could hardly keep up as I soaked in the views, the colorful walls, all the guard dogs barking behind their gates, the grocery store and all the smells that came with it.... and the amount of flies! Lord have mercy. Once we were off our little neighborhood hill, the cobblestone roads turned to paved ones, and we passed the street market. It was one of my favorite places to go with my dad. It was so colorful and bright with the tents and tables piled high with fruit and vegetables, fish, meat, hanging cow stomach... the works. It was so fascinating. I loved all the vendors calling out and bustling and business that was chaotic but intriguing and absolutely beautiful. From there we took a right and started to journey through the slums. My private school was just past them, the paved road ended and we walked along the rocky dirt paths lined with garbage and card board boxes, the smell of sewage was thick in the air. People had made make shift houses out of card board, scraps of metal, tin, cinder blocks and planks of wood held together with patches of cement. Children stood shoeless, with disheveled and mismatched clothes along the side of the road. When our eyes would lock my heart would ache right out of my chest. A drunk man yelled out at us and I picked up my pace so that I was a little closer to my dad but continued to take in my surroundings as guilt welled up inside me for having a better life than every single person my eyes surveyed. I knew that my family didn't have much as missionaries by American standards, I often felt a little embarrassed that I wasn't always wearing new shoes or trendy clothes at school, but as I walked through the favela (slums) I was ashamed that I had ever felt entitled to such things. I felt a tug on my back pack, let out a yelp and jumped a mile high. I turned around to see a stray dog pulling on the ends of my black adjustable straps. My dad shooed it away, but it followed us up the hill, yapping and growling all the way. We reached my school and entered through the gates and into another world. A safe world, with beautiful landscaped lawns and fragrant gardenia bushes, palm trees, pristine brick buildings and high protective walls. Although it felt safer, I could never get the harsh contrast of realities out of my mind. On this side of wall we had so much hope, safety, opportunity and a future... on the other side they were just trying to survive today and even as a seven year old it weighed heavily on my heart and burdened my mind. It grew something beautiful next to my passion for justice, a deep compassion.
There is great suffering and injustice in the world that weighs heavily; poverty, human trafficking, orphans, wars, starvation, no clean water, slavery, persecution, I could go on and on. We live in a broken world. It is a beautiful thing to love what is right and fight for it. But over the years loving justice became a burden to me. My focus shifted from the true injustices in the world and more personal offenses began to consume me. As a kid I thought that if I always always always did what was right there was an umbrella of protection around me. Like an equation. Good things happen to good people. Bad things happen when you make bad choices. Suffering was a consequence and if I just lived inside my black and white lines of right and wrong everything would be ok. That seems just to me.
But the older I got the more suffering I saw and experienced and the equation I believed in didn't fit. We live in a world full of imperfect people, I am one of them. Suffering is a part of living in a world full of sin and bad things are going to happen to good people. It's the equation of earth. Bad things and good things happen to all people on earth because we are all living imperfectly together. However, when we do good we are likely to have good returned to us, and when we make bad choices we do have to pay the consequences of those choices. That's common sense. But, doing good does not exempt us from the pain of this world, it propels us forward and others forward as we respond to the brokeness around us.
As much as my heart still longs for justice in this world I have learned to do what I can and leave the rest to King Jesus. Sometimes our love for justice needs to drive us to our knees and stirs our hearts to action, other times we need to let compassion lead and we develop a greater understanding of what it is to love mercy. When justice isn't possible on earth that's when compassion lathers love on the brokeness of this world. Mercy extends compassion and forgiveness to those who don't deserve it. This is what we are called to do. Act justly. Love mercy.
The beauty of God's love is that it doesn't make sense, it doesn't fit any equation. It's a miracle. We are imperfect and don't deserve His love. The greatest injustice that ever happened in this world was that Jesus, the perfect son of God, died so that imperfect humans could be forgiven of sin and called sons of God. As my son said when he was little, "Jesus took our spankings" so that we could reap the benefits of His perfection. If Jesus, the perfect Son of God experienced injustice, why should we be exempt?
My tendency is to focus on and fight for justice always and sometimes I miss the point. There is no equation to avoid injustice in this life. The focus instead should be on how I respond to the bad that touches my life, my husbands life, my kids lives, my friends lives.... when bad things happen to us do I love mercy? I have compassion, lots of compassion for people who have faced injustice, but do I love to show forgiveness and compassion to the people who don't deserve it? The ones that have brought on the injustice?
I can either choose to be bitter or choose to be better and write a beautiful story. The people who have had the biggest influence and impact on my life are the people that faced great injustice, pain and suffering and pulled themselves up, dusted off, learned from it, grew from it and bravely chose to embrace grace and mercy instead of bitterness. They chose to become better though it, not resentful of it. They allowed the Lord to write a beautiful story instead of letting life's darkest moments dictate who they were and how they would respond. They chose to respond to injustice with mercy and allowed the Lord to bring beauty out of the ashes. That is true courage. Those are lives worth writing about, qualities worth fighting for, things we must teach our children by the way we live. To act justly, love mercy and walk humbly with God Almighty, together these disciplines work in perfect unison to help us navigate all that we face in this world and help us write the story God intended for our lives.
It is a beautiful thing to love what is right and fight for it. But it is a miraculous thing to love the people who don't deserve your love and is only possible when we are walking humbly with God. His power and lavish love frees us to show compassion, forgiveness and love even beyond our own capability. Justice in this world will only reign supreme when Jesus returns, until then let's choose to live a story greater than ourselves. Everyday the choices we make are leaving a legacy, when we choose bitterness and resentment, our children see it. With all that is within me, I do not want to teach my children to be easily wounded and offended, to be critical and judgmental, resentful and bitter... but how I respond to everyday life is teaching them, even when I am not aware of it. I want my kids to grow in the kind of grace that is humble enough show unmerited mercy, to be quick to forgive, and to be compassionate to those who are broken and hurting, and to love everyone, even their enemies. I want to make a lasting imprint on their lives that stirs up a passion in them to always pursue Jesus, because they have seen a glimpse of Him in me. That is the kind of story that I want to write. Not highlighting the wounds and scars that come with bumping into other imperfect people in this life, but chapters and chapters of God's goodness despite all our brokeness, His strength in my weakness, and Jesus' miraculous love that pours out of me beyond what I am humanly capable of. I want my life to highlight God and His glory in all the everyday things so that I don't miss a single opportunity to be a part of the eternal ones.
What I learned walking through the slums as a child with my dad was that this world is not just, but every single day we are given the opportunity to make someone else's life a little more lovely. We just have to be looking outside of ourselves to see it. It may seem small, but I have learned to never underestimate the powerful and deep love that is shared when you stand with someone who can't on their own, when you show mercy, compassion, and kindness.... whether it is deserved or not. That kind of love changes lives. I have seen it, experienced it, and have by God's grace been able to extend it. There is nothing more life changing than the love of Jesus. Nothing more amazing and humbling than being a part of God's beautiful story, by letting His perfect love saturate the pages and chapters of our lives. He can weave every one of our chapters into His story if we let Him.
I now have a few justice children of my own and their passion and zeal is definitely giving me some grey hair. I would be lying if I said I didn't delight in their love for justice when it's something that truly matters and not just a fight over how many mini marshmallows the other one got... Nothing melts my heart more than when their desire for justice extends sweet mercy, love and gentle compassion to the bullied kid on the playground, to the homeless and hungry man on the corner, to their friend who just lost a parent to cancer, when their hearts are stirred to pray for orphans and other people in need. Their passion, spurred by the pure love of Jesus is making them brave and making a difference in the world already. They have moments where they get it and want nothing more than to be a part of God's story. God uses them to remind me that we have an opportunity every single day to make a difference. Who would want to miss out on being a part of something far greater than themselves?
Act justly. Love mercy. Walk humbly with God.
Be a part of His beautiful, eternal love story.
And always make sure the Libby kids get an equal number of mini marshmallows.
Beautiful my dear, sweet daughter.
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