Monuments

I've been thinking. And I know that I'm late to the conversation, and the world has moved on. Harvey has come and devastated thousands of people in Texas, and our focus has shifted. And that’s a good thing. The precious people in Texas need support, so let's focus on that. 

But I want to go back to this conversation about monuments. I understand there’s a lot of controversy. I understand that it’s contentious. I don’t agree with the mob mentality that is being created in taking down these monuments. I don’t agree with the constant extremism and polarization of races. It’s not helping us. 

But here’s what I keep thinking. 

If what a monument represents is hurting someone, we should take it down. 

I understand the idea of preserving history. The removal of monuments doesn’t take away our history. Calm down. 

We can preserve and honor our history whether a monument stays in place or not. 

Honestly, I don't even want to get into the "political argument" of it all. 

Instead, consider this for a moment: 

How can I look my brother who is hurting in the face and choose a monument that is made of metal and stone over the flesh and bone standing in front of me?

That’s what keeps plaguing me. How can I say I love my brother when I choose the worth of a monument over his? 

I have friends that have told me stories of what their parents have experienced as a result of  segregation. And many of these monuments are nothing more than reminders of horribly painful experiences. I don’t like that. 

I understand that there can be a level of emotion involved in this. I understand that there is potential for it to be irrational, or illogical. I understand all that. But it’s not my job to govern somebody’s emotions. It’s not my job to sit here and point out how incorrect their emotion is, or whatever it is that crosses my mind that “needs to be said.” 

It is my job to be kind. To be loving. To listen. To hear. To respond. 

1 John 4 says that if I say I love God, but hate my brother, I’m a liar. 

The truth is, I can’t choose some monument, over my brother who is hurting. 

I want to gain my brother back, more than I want some monument to stay in place.

I don’t need a monument. But I do need my brother. 

For me, that’s what it all comes down to:
If it’s a statue or my brother. I choose my brother. 

Perfect or Process

I was looking at my husband while he was on stage the other day, and so many thoughts occurred to me. While he is not perfect, he is perfect for me. While he is not perfect, he is in process. He's not the man he was 9+ years ago when we started dating. He is better. He's a better man now than he was then. And he was pretty great. Just saying.

But I couldn't help but ponder about perfection. About process.

Sometimes we get caught up in looking for the "perfect" person. And while yes, we do want the right person- right doesn't equal perfect. Here's the truth: I know my husband isn't perfect. And neither am I.

But it's not about perfection. It's about process.

I don't like big qualifying statements like "don't look for the perfect person." Because I think that's fine. But rather, as you look for the perfect person, look for one that's perfectly in process.

I imagine we all like to skip ahead to the end, when we're all perfectly mature. When we always say the right thing. When we always do the right thing. When we're always calm. When we always communicate exactly what we should. When we never lose our temper. Where the relationship is always good, and there are never any misunderstandings or miscommunications. When we are that fantastical, storybook version of ourselves that we've imagined.

But here's the truth about skipping ahead to the end.
You miss everything that got you to that place.

And when you really break down what that means, it means you'll miss all the little moments. All the sweetness. The day after day, night after night of just being together. The laughter. The little glances across the room. All the little secrets you share. All the blow-out arguments that made you want to scream, but when you finally persevered all the way through changed everything. All the moments you have to ask for forgiveness because you were the one who was wrong. All the hard work that made you who you are.

And that’s just it.
But for the PROCESS, we would never be who we're meant to be.
It's slow, because refinement isn't instantaneous.
It's painful sometimes because refinement sharpens the best parts of you, while destroying the ugly ones.
It’s scary, because it means letting go of what is comfortable, and convenient.
It’s faith, because sometimes it doesn’t look like what you thought it would.

We underestimate the importance of process. The beauty of process.
Process is building something of substance.
Process is building something that will last.
Process is building something that will endure the end of time.
Process is refining us, slowly, one day at a time to reflect Jesus.

So the truth is, perfect is great. But it is impossible without process.
So as you're out there, fighting the good fight, looking for that soul mate, just remember: Perfect is good. Find that person who is perfect for you. But find the one that is perfectly in process. Then be ok with mess that comes with it. Commit to the person, and to the process.

We have a Father who is on our side. A Father who is an EXPERT at building a city out of ruins. A Father who can take ashes and turn them to beauty. A Father who takes process and makes it perfect.