When Our Song Says Peace

A couple of thoughts and a story for you, today.

First
Having a tumblr has been simultaneously wonderful and revolting. I watch a lot of other vegan blogs and so I end up seeing a lot of pictures of the suffering of animals, pictures meant to inform other people. I also get to see some debates play out between the vegan bloggers and people who take issue with their various opinions (there was a really long and very depressing one about comparing factory farming to the holocaust). Sometimes seeing how cruel people can be makes me feel physically ill for the whole day. But on the whole I am glad I watch these other vegans because I'm inspired by their courage and the way they stick to their morals. It helps me know I'm not alone in what I want to do and the discouragement I feel along the way.

Second
As always, I am trying to find that happy place where my morality and my spirituality are aligned. This is proving to be harder than I expected. I so often feel alone among my fellow mormons because of my views on compassion for animals and other groups of beings which the church doesn't care about as much. My idea of God's unconditional love is apparently quite radical. I can't really describe how discouraging it is to realize that the church, which for most of my life has been my source of moral guidance, is not in perfect harmony with what my morals are now. But I try to trust God anyway, and believe that if it is compassionate, God is behind it 100% because he IS love itself.

While seeking for some comfort on this rainy day, I came across this hymn in the ELW, which is a hymnal from the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. I love the ELCA's concept of "gentle justice". It makes so much sense to me.

When Our Song Says Peace

When our song says peace and the world says war,
we will sing despite the world.
We will trust the song, for we sing of God,
who breaks the spear and sword
and stills the storm of war.

When our song says free and the world says bound
We will sing despite the world
We will trust the song, for we sing of God,
who opens prison doors
and sets the captives free

 When our song says home and the world says lost,
we will sing despite the world.
We will trust the song, for we sing of God,
who brings us home at last,
and gives a song to all.

It was just what I needed to hear. I have a hard time really trusting "my song," this message I feel so strongly about. I can't NOT sing it, and yet because the world says WAR, BOUND, LOST, so loudly that I often feel discouraged and wonder if I might be wrong. But God gave me that song for a reason, and it would be wrong of me not to sing it.

Finally

I promised to share this story several posts back.
When I was going home to visit my family this last December, I had to take the shuttle from the Las Vegas airport to St. George where my dad would pick me up. When I went out to the shuttle I saw a very androgynous person who I suspected might be female but didn't really know either way. I find androgyny fascinating so I felt unusually curious about her. She had very very short hair and was holding a pile of blankets and had a few large suitcases. I didn't speak to her, and she sat behind me in the shuttle, talking to another woman who was much better at talking than I am.

By listening to their conversation I learned that this girl was going to Cedar City because she had been addicted to heroine and had relapsed while trying to get clean, and her parents had kicked her out of the house, so she was going to stay with a couple of friends. She was suffering from withdrawals that made her feel like she had a bad flu. She'd never been to Cedar City before. The woman actually suggested she ask the church for help once she got there, and the girl said she didn't really want to get involved with the church. I'm sure she had some strong reasons, one of which was probably because she identified as gay. I turned around at this point and said "well there are other churches too that would probably help you out if you asked" because I didn't want her to be left alone without support because she was afraid of the LDS church. I understand why a lot of people don't want to get involved with the church, because unfortunately a lot of identities are not treated like they are valid by other church members (such as being gay).

I didn't manage a lot of conversation beyond that, but I did tell her I liked her short hair, and that my family lived within an hour of Cedar City and yes, I was LDS but fairly liberal for an LDS person.

For about two thirds of the drive this girl slept and I thought about her, how alone she must feel, abandoned because of one mistake while she was trying hard to turn her life around. I had the feeling I should write my contact information down and give it to her. I wrote down my email and facebook address with a little note.

When we got to St. George and were waiting to be picked up I asked her if she had someone coming to pick her up (stupid question), and she said yes and lit a cigarette with trembling fingers. I said "I hope this isn't too weird, but is it okay if I give you my email address? If you need someone to just listen, or, you know, if you need help finding your way around...." And she said "yeah, I would like that actually, thanks."

She asked me if I'd heard her whole story and I said I heard some of it, and she said "I just made some really... stupid choices."

And I said "it's okay. We all make stupid choices."

And then I said "I just thought... it must be pretty tough, since it's Christmas and all, and your parents..." and she didn't say anything for a second, sitting on the wheelchair ramp rail, and then she turned her face away and said "Sorry, I just feel like I'm gonna cry right now...." and I said "ahhh, it's okay."

She asked me if I could give her my phone number so we could text but I said I didn't have texting on my phone (which was true). I wondered if I should give it to her anyway so she could call, but I hesitated. I wondered if I should give her a hug, I wanted to give her a hug, but I hesitated, because maybe that would come off weird or something...

Then she heard the shuttle driver talking about the snow and the low temperatures in Cedar, and she'd just come from Vegas so she was worrying because she didn't bring a coat. I thought for a moment of giving her my coat, or digging out one of my sweatshirts. They had all been bought for me by my parents or Danielle's parents though, so I wondered if I should. I hesitated again. Then my dad showed up and I said "good luck" and goodbye.

I thought about her constantly for the next three days, wishing I had given her my number, my coat, found some way to help her besides just a nice gesture and a few "it's okay"s. I cried about her at the Christmas Concert that night. It was weird because she was just some stranger I met, but I felt such a love for her, such a need to let her know that there are people who will accept her even when she makes mistakes... I wanted to let her know that she was important, she was worth so much no matter what her parents or anyone said, and even if she kept making mistakes she would still be worth just as much. I know she had her two friends she was staying with, but sometimes it's not enough to just be lived with... everyone needs to feel loved, and to have a place safe enough to call home.

This experience helped me to start formulating in my mind the dream I have, of creating a place where people and animals can both go to be safe, no matter how damaged they seem, and hopefully that will be a way to start some healing for both people and animals. It will be a place where the song of peace can drown out the shouts of war. I'm not sure if I will ever be able to create such a place in my lifetime, but it's a dream I have anyway, and I'm so glad I met that person on the shuttle.

I haven't written your name down, because I want to respect your privacy, but if you're reading this, I hope you know that I love you, and you can still email or message me anytime. And if you do I'll give you my phone number this time.