Life is Not Fair

Some people teach that you can achieve anything if you want badly enough. While there is some truth to this, it is much harder for some than it is for others. 

Take the case of Kali Rufus, who experienced sexual and physical abuse as a child.  Between the ages of 11 and 16 he was placed in 10 different foster homes.  This experience left deep scars. In his teens Rufus made bad choices, if you can call the actions of a troubled teenager with no food a choice.  Rufus sold his body to men willing to exploit him.  

There were some lights in Rufus’ life: Some teachers and social workers encouraged him: With their support Rufus graduated from Grade 12.  The local social workers gave him a graduation present – a copy of Dr. Seuss’s book “Oh, the Places You’ll Go.”  Then these supportive people were gone from his life as he aged out of the foster care system.   

Rufus is now 21 years old. The place Rufus ended up was Vancouver’s downtown eastside where he has spent more than one night sleeping on a pew at First United Church.  He calls Crystal Meth his best friend.  Rufus believes his life might have turned out differently if there had been supportive adults in his life after he left Grade 12. Most 18-21 year olds continue to have supportive adults in their life after they graduate from high school. 

Rufus writes poetry to help deal with the deep wounds that remain in his life.  The wounds are not just on his psyche.  As a teenager Rufus dealt with emotional pain by cutting himself. 

The following poem was shown beside a picture of his scarred arm in the Vancouver Sun on February 22^nd, 2014 in an article written by Lori Culbert. 

Every scar has deep meaning
Deep cuts
on the heart
the soul
Remembering times of harsh reality
the present and past
Times being unfaithful
Times being unforgiving
to ourselves and others
Leaving deep gashes
unhealed wounds
That lie deep inside oneself
like cracks in the cement streets
No time for healing
Overlook emotions
Try to forget them
As if it never happened
The scars of now
Homelessness
Welfare
Addictions
The pain you present
Shows in your eyes
Deep pain
Of mistrust and misuse
Does someone see my scars? 
Or are they hidden deep inside.
                Kaki Rufus – published in the Vancouver Sun Feb. 22^nd, 2014

The next time you see a homeless person on the street take a moment to wonder what their story is.  Ask yourself if there is anything you can do to prevent other children from going through what Rufus has.  Ask yourself if there are things you can do to help the adult who carries this wounded child within themselves.  

One of the ways I have helped is to listen to people share their fifth step in the AA program.  I have marveled at how much some people have survived.  Some have battled with demons most of us cannot begin to imagine.   It is a testament to the quality of their hero’s quest that they have chosen to face the past and try to stop it from controlling the present and the future.  They are true heroes in my eyes.  They inspire me by their decision to move beyond the injustices done to them.  They inspire me to renewed effort in my own hero’s quest of self-discovery and change.  My quest is not as hard as theirs and for that I am thankful. 

Believe in Yourself and Others

Some time ago I watched a TV series called the 4400 which was filmed in Vancouver.  In this series people who had disappeared over the years from around the world suddenly reappeared.   Each of the disappeared came back with a gift that began to manifest itself.  One woman was a teacher and she came back with the ability to see and call forth the gifts that lie buried deep within her students.  Her students began to excel.  The students began to see themselves in new ways because their teacher was able to see something beautiful in them.   This is fiction, and yet it can happen in real life.

One day a teacher asked her grade one class to write a story. A boy I knew was in that class.  He was two years behind his classmates developmentally.  When he finished the story it was impossible to read. Every other student had written a story that was technically better than Jay’s.  Yet the grade one teacher gave Jay an award for being a good story teller.   She then read his story to not only his class, but to the other grade one class at the school.

Through the years Jay carried an image of himself as a good story teller and he struggled to overcome his learning disabilities.  In Grade 6 he couldn’t write a sentence so his mother home schooled him for that year.  Jay graduated from university with a degree in Creative Writing.  I doubt he would have done so without that grade one teacher who saw something special in him and named it.  Or perhaps she was simply being kind, but Jay believed her words and was given a vision of himself which kept him pressing onwards. 

Susan Boyle suffered from oxygen deprivation at birth and was never as quick as other children.  She was bullied as a child and experienced more than a little rejection throughout her life.  When she came onstage for Britain’s Got Talent and said she wanted to be a professional singer eyes rolled and people laughed.   What they saw was a frumpy older woman who in their eyes did not belong on that stage.  Then Susan opened her mouth and began to sing. By looking at her people thought they knew all that there was to know.   Yet it took mere seconds for their vision of who she was to be forever changed.  With it came a lesson that you cannot judge people by what they look like. 

Every one of us has talents and abilities. Some will remain unused for a lifetime.  Some people will believe a lie about themselves.  A lie that tells them they have nothing to offer the world.  They will believe the lie and make it true. May God help us to see beauty and ability where it lies hidden.  May we have the grace to name the ability and talents we see in others when they are unable to see it themselves.    

Billy Elliot and the Treasure of Our True Selves

Diversity is a given.  There are no two of us are alike.   We bear the imprint of our uniqueness in our very bodies.  It is not just our finger prints that are unique, but the patterns on our tongues, toes, and eyes.  It is not just our bodies that are unique, but our minds and souls as well.  

I was reminded of this when I watched a British movie about a boy named Billy Elliot.   Billy lived with his father, brother and grandmother in a coal mining town.  His mother had died some time previously.   His father and brother were coal miners on strike.   Out of the little money he had, Billy Elliot’s father gave Billy money for boxing lessons.  Billy went to the lessons wearing boxing gloves that had belonged to his father and grandfather.  The problem was that Billy did not want to box. 

A ballet group composed entirely of girls practiced in the same gym.  It was not long before Billy was giving his father’s money to the ballet teacher.  Things went along nicely until Billy’s father discovered what was going on. Billy was forbidden to go to ballet class again.  However he secretly met with the teacher.   When his father caught him teaching another boy to dance, Billy was defiant and danced across the gym.  His father recognized that Billy was a brilliant dancer.

In the church that I attended as a teenager it seemed to me that there was no room for choice, there was only one right way to think, to vote, to be.   I never seemed to fit expectations.  As an adult it was good to learn that Jesus had no standard type when he called disciples.   Jesus never told his disciples it was wrong to be a Zealot or wrong to support Rome.  He allowed room for individual choice in many matters.

The world often tries to fit us into a mold. I don’t think God wants us to lose our uniqueness and spend  time chasing the dream others have for us that do not fit who we  are.  I truly believe we bring God joy as we discover the treasure of our own true selves and act like an original rather than trying to be a copy.  So my friends bring God joy by being who you truly are.  

 

Inviting Dirty Hitchhikers Home for a Bath

Some years ago I was returning home from work on a city bus in Vancouver.  For some reason I began to think about how hard it was to get personally involved with real people in real need.  As I thought about this I noticed two filthy dirty men on the bus.  The thought came into my mind that I should invite them home for a bath.  I had the strong impression that this is what God wanted me to do.      

The two men were not sitting close to me, but  I could hear their conversation.  While I thought  about the idea of inviting them home for a bath one of them asked a person sitting near them whether they knew a place where they could go to clean up. 

My stop was the end of the bus line at the University of British Columbia.   The two men got off at this stop as well.  We got into a conversation about where they could go to clean up.  My first suggestion was the UBC swimming pool. I was understandably reluctant to invite them home for a bath.  The very next words out of my mouth were, "But you are too dirty. They will never let you in.  You had better come to my house for a bath."

By the time we got to the small apartment where I lived with my husband and three children I had also invited them to have supper with us.  Now I had a problem.  How do you tell your husband that you have invited dirty hitchhikers from the bus home for a bath?

I left them standing at the corner of the apartment building and went in.  I spoke very rapidly to my husband saying, "I have invited two dirty hitchhikers home for supper and a bath."  I turned and ran out before my husband could respond.  The two men ate with us, washed their clothes and had a bath. 

It turned out these two men were bible school students on spring furlough.  They had been hitchhiking when it started to rain and had hopped into a box car that had previously carried coal.  They were delighted that God had provided a woman on the bus willing to invite them home for a bath. 

Homeless and Hungry

The week I graduated from high school I left my parents a note. I told them I was off to find myself and God.  While those things might have been true, I also left because I was pregnant and did not want to tell my parents.  

With very little  money in my pocket I hitchhiked out to Vancouver where I experienced what it is to be homeless and hungry.  I remember seeing some bread crumbs left for the birds. I thought seriously of picking them up for myself.  

My boyfriend and I broke up and I took a job as a live-in nannie for a well known doctor.  What was less well known was how domestic employees were treated. I don't remember  a day off.   I was not fed what the family ate.  They ate bacon and eggs or waffles, but made porridge for me. I was accused of stealing when I added just a little more milk to make the porridge more palatable.  The food I was allowed never felt like enough. One day the doctors wife had me wash the bathroom floor with a toothbrush. 

I left their employment and applied for welfare which was granted because I was five months pregnant. The words of the teller when I tried to cash my first welfare check live on in my mind, "what are you stupid or something, you can't cash this check here."  I had not noticed that the only place the check  could be cashed was down on Vancouver's skid row.  It was a frightening experience for an eighteen year old to walk down those streets alone.  

Everyone we meet has something to teach us in our journey of self discovery and change. The doctor's wife and the bank teller gave me an example of what I did not want to be.  The experience of being homeless and in poverty has made me more compassionate than I would have been. So I look back with some sense of gratitude.  All things do indeed work together for good.  (Romans 8:28)