I attempted to write this post two weeks ago, but in the wake of the shooting of Jacob Blake I could not put into words what I was trying to say without emotions taking over. It's been weeks of processing, having hard conversations and being asked to not engage in conversations. Today, I write because my journey to and in Milwaukee is one that I need to share.
About ten years ago, I made the short move from Waukesha, WI to Milwaukee, WI to attend Marquette University. Many of my friends traveled farther than eighteen miles for college, but for me this move was bigger than distance. Growing up in the suburbs, I had become accustomed to engaging with people who predominantly looked like me and talked like me. On the few trips into the city for sporting events, the people sleeping under the interstate invoked deep questions and thoughts within me, even as a child. "That's not right," I'd think as sadness swelled.
The choice to attend Marquette was met with some resistance. Why attend a private school? It's so expensive. It's too close to home. However, on a trip to the Bradley Center a few years before, I vividly remember driving down Wisconsin Avenue and asking my dad what the buildings were on either side of 16th Street. "This is Marquette University. This is where people go to college," my Dad revealed. "I'm going to go here. I'm going to go here," I said as we passed what I'd later call the AMU. At that point in time, I didn't fully know the process of applying to colleges and even though I was resolved to go to Marquette and Marquette alone, well meaning individuals said I should apply other places too. Just in case, they said. But I knew deep down this is where I'd be. Against the grain, I only applied to one school.
That moment is a moment I look back on with such awe. I had such faith in myself to make that dream come true. And it did. My caravan of moving cars traversed through a highway exit I had never taken and quickly I felt a tug in my heart as I read the sign of a man standing on the median. This felt similar to the feeling I had seeing individuals with mattresses under bridges as a kid, but now I was an adult and this was my new home. How was I to reconcile my life to the lives of people who were my new neighbors?! This questions is still something I consider almost daily.
I had decided to pursue Criminology & Law Studies and Psychology. I wanted to become a lawyer and defend the law. I attended my first Pre-Law meeting a few weeks into the school year. I sat with like-minded students and quickly realized the rigor recommended to prepare for Law School was intense. I began my undergraduate studies and tried my hardest to keep my GPA above a 3.8 in order to be considered for Marquette Law. I plugged away at classes - pulling all-nighters despite warnings. I was trying so hard to get the grades I thought I needed. When that semester ended, I was crushed. In one of my classes I had not gotten an A which meant my GPA was under 3.8. It shouldn't have been that devastating, but to a woman who built her whole life on academic excellence, this was simply unacceptable. It was perfect or failure. And this was failure.
Simultaneously, I decided to explore my faith. I had grown up learning about God, but hadn't regularly attended church services since I was young. As an adult, I wanted to change that. I returned to church, took theology classes, and began reading the Bible. I wanted to know God, but I didn't know how. I tried and tried, but it didn't seem to be working. I was learning, yes, but my life didn't look different. I still had a longing that was unmet.
It was during the beginning of my sophomore year that I hit a really low point in life. I had become somewhat of a mediator between my parents, my grades were continuing to not be perfect, I couldn't get a loan to live on campus and then my car broke down. I was wrecked. My circumstances had failed me.
But life continues. One of my classes at Marquette required me to volunteer in the city to gain exposure to the broader Milwaukee community. I was at first apprehensive. I did not know what to expect, but I am a rule follower and knew I had to do it. I began my semester volunteering with an organization that helps released prisoners find employment, housing, and resources to reenter society and be a law abiding citizen. I loved this idea! I was thrilled to help. However, I quickly realized there were many barriers. The organization only had four people on staff. A released individual would come in one day and then it would be impossible to follow up because their phone number changed or they fell off the map. With the few that we were able to work with more consistently, it was devastating to hear about the denials for employment or the countless applications that just hung in the air because of that "have you ever committed a felony" question. Why couldn't they have a second chance? Why does one thing become the only thing that defines a person? How far away am I from being in this position? If I were to make a mistake or be in the wrong place at the wrong time, I could be right here - struggling to climb out of the system that punishes crime (for good reason in some cases) but does not truly release the incarcerated.
I had always thought I could fix things in my own life and maybe that would translate to those around me. That if I just tried hard enough everything would be alright. But through life experiences I learned that even if I tried hard, it didn't always work out. That left me with a dilemma. How do I reconcile my effort with the brokenness I am experiencing and see? If God is good, then why do bad things continue to happen?
I had so many questions. I wanted restoration. I wanted shalom. I wanted peace in this crazy world. I wanted something that wouldn't fail me.
I found it in Jesus!
My whole life I knew God was real, but He became real to me on a September night. Almost suddenly, I learned that God loved me and had this beautiful plan of shalom and peace. Sin or anything that's against God had banned me from God's beautiful design. We, as humans, are separated from God because God is holy and cannot be near impure or unclean things. Originally, God created an atonement or payment process to get back into right standing with God. A priest would offer animal blood sacrifices for sin after sin after sin. Individuals were momentarily in right standing with God, but sin prevailed. This process was meant to make us realize our need for someone greater than a priest to restore us back to God. It was a shadow of what was to come in Jesus.
Jesus Christ, who is fully God, gave up the comforts of heaven to be born as a baby in a manger. He walked this earth reflecting God to the world and ultimately made the once-for-all atonement for sin. His death on the Cross was the blood sacrifice that paid for my sin - past, present, and future and can pay for yours. He was buried. Yet after three days, Jesus rose from the dead and ascended to heaven to be seated at the righthand of God the Father. Jesus is the Perfecter of our faith. He provides the way for restoration, shalom and peace!
That night I quietly cried and told God that this is what I had been searching for all these years. This was the perfection that my inward being sought after in other things but was never satisfied. I had tried and tried in my own strength to accomplish perfection in circumstances, but my efforts failed. I needed God. I needed to be restored to God. I couldn't do it anymore on my own. I needed help. I turned to God and committed to learning to live for the purposes He has for me. He created and fashioned me in His image to be a reflector of restoration, shalom, and peace to the broken and unrestored world.
When I began walking with God and learning more about who He is, I began to see the world differently. Rather quickly, I began to see people as more than just a title or a person passing along down the street. I realized everyone has a story and is yearning for belonging. I loved what I had been studying in school, but my direction had shifted from wanting to be a lawyer to wanting to love my neighbor as myself. I finally saw the politics within the criminal justice system and could not dedicate myself to it's purposes.
God gave me compassion for others and the patience to listen to others' stories. I had the opportunity to do prison ministry and visited women who were in maximum security in Seattle, WA. As they shared their stories about murdering people, I saw them as more than just their crime. They were people. People with feelings and thoughts and families and aspirations. One woman read us poems she had written. I realized that although she was in chains physically, she was more authentic and felt more freedom in sharing her experiences than many do in society. Many knew their forgiveness was secure in God, even if they were not forgiven by the world.
After that summer, I resolved to find a way to serve in inner city Milwaukee. This lead me to a place where I came face to face with the reality of racism in my own heart. On my first trip via the Milwaukee County Transit System, I remember having all of these feelings regarding how outnumbered I felt visually and how unsure I was of my safety. I packed a bag of my materials, but had chosen to use one that was plain and wouldn't attract attention. I chose my seat at the back of the bus and tried not to engage with anyone. I felt the fear rise up within me. As I waited for my transfer bus, I remember clutching my bag tightly and looking over my shoulder incessantly. When I arrived, I was surprised to find someone who's complexion was different than what I had presumed based on my own stereotypes. I needed to confess my prejudices and humble myself. I had operated out of fear. I had considered people with more melanin to be dangerous without even a hello. It's appalling! My heart breaks thinking about these things and how my brain was trained to function. I call out to God and ask Him to forgive me the sin of racism and to transform my heart, soul, mind, and strength.
I taught a class on forgiveness one night a week. Rather, I facilitated a discussion where we talked about challenging relationships, past hurts, pain, systemic injustice, brokenness, physical barriers, and difficulties trusting God. One night, a muscular man who had just been released from prison shared, "forgiveness is hard." He then turned to me and asked, "how do you forgive?" It was in that moment and the discussion that followed where I tangibly saw people as made in God's image. He created us to love and serve and live in a way that is countercultural. Forgiveness has been extended to us in Jesus and we are called to forgive others seventy times seven (Matt 18:22).
After college, I chose to remain in the city of Milwaukee. As I asked God to lead me to people and places, I found myself in various neighborhoods across the city - in schools, playing basketball, building patios, praying for needs, and worshipping. It is a privilege to see God at work in the city of Milwaukee.
I have hope for Milwaukee. It may not be in my lifetime, but I see God bringing people together from various backgrounds, values, cultures, and races. I see unity. I will continue to ask God to give me eyes to see people as He sees them, to love people with His love, and to help me live out who He made me to be in the context of the community He has me in presently. This work is challenging at times, exhausting, filled with mistakes, but I'd rather imperfectly engage than miss out on relationships.
God has given me a second chance and it has been filled with a joy I can't explain and a peace I cannot understand.
In Christ you are offered that second chance too! It's your choice to follow Him. I pray that you would love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength; and love your neighbor as yourself (Mark 12:30-31). Can we offer that second chance to those around us? Instead of judging people based on their skin color or job title or relationship status, may we extend grace and shower people in love. Imagine with me how different our world could be if we chose to see beyond the surface.
Today, we find ourselves in tension-filled spaces, filled with brokenness and division. When I look around, I don't see what God intended. As people of God, may we seek to reflect back to this broken world the restoration, shalom, and peace of God. Systems have and will fail. Political parties have and will fail. Our efforts to fix it have and will fail. Racism has and will run rampant.
This is not cause to give up on systemic reform, nor is it a reason to not vote. This means we tirelessly labor towards God and His purposes - empowering people made in God's image to be restored to the Father primarily, but then to be loved by their neighbor within communities, systems, structures, policies, laws, etc.
May God continue to reveal more of who He is and who we are to be in spite of Him. And may we be humble enough to admit our mistakes and walk in the direction of peace.
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