Sometimes I read posts by women of color and their life struggles, and I identify. Technically, I’m not supposed to. I am an ordinary, middle class, white woman. What would I know about discrimination? After all, I do think white privilege is a real thing and that I probably experience its benefits and don’t know it. So the discriminations I feel and experience may be different – specific to me and my personality. It has me wondering if we all experience some form of it at times as part of the fall of humanity and reign of sin on the earth?
Some white people don’t understand the need for discrimination awareness. Clearly, it is a sin issue that will remain until God returns. A problem that started at the Tower of Babel, so why talk about race and race issues? Why stir the pot they will say. However, I think if Jesus can be the salvation to issues of race and discrimination, then so too must His ambassadors which means the injustices must be discussed.
I didn’t intend to write about race this morning, I was thinking about why I can identify so much. It is because I am quiet. It’s what makes me different and sets me apart. The way I go to girl’s nights, sit at the table, and am not given equal time to share my story. I always go home with a complex of being less than the fun girls at the table. While it may be my insecurity, because how does discrimination not feed insecurity, it is more than that. It is a lack of appreciation for who God made me to be.
The thing is I know other quiet girls too. They’ve experienced the same thing. As much as they try to put themselves out there to be friendly, people just see and hear the silent difference and assume we are okay with just being at the table, but not in sharing in the communion of the table with story.
Don’t get me wrong, sometimes we just want to be quiet. But mostly, we long to be given equal opportunity to be fully present and engaged, to be known.
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A friend said something in passing about my writing to outsiders, obviously because I feel outside at times – despite my trying hard to be included. I struggle with who my writing is for. Often my “great” writing ideas end up just ideas or bad ones at best, because I don’t understand who I write for. My subscribers are often silent. Maybe that’s because they (you) read not to interact and more to know that they (you) are not alone, to feel understood and known.
Being known and being quiet is a concept I’ve been thinking a lot about. One sweet blogger friend recently said she wrote to be known. I suggest that every quiet woman does, but so does every storyteller. A story always reflects the author. While the greatest stories reflect God the Father, Jesus the Son, or the Holy Spirit, stories are valuable in and of themselves to help us see the beauty of the world God created. As we listen to others and come to know them better, we’ll learn how to love them better. We’ll learn how to know and love, and we’ll become better stewards and ambassadors of Jesus. This, I feel, is the important work God’s given me to do, and finally, I have words for it. Who doesn’t feel different in some way?
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It is why this year has been so hard because I am so desperate to know, truly know, my little girl’s heart, but she keeps it close. How then can I love if I do not know? How well can any of us?
The other day I was encouraged because she said, “Momma, how is it that you always know what is wrong with everyone? I would have really gotten frustrated with what sister was doing because I didn’t get why she was.” She went on to list examples, which warmed my heart. This girl who seems so afraid to be known, not unlike her momma, was making observations.
Lately, I’ve been feeling my work as a wife and mom very ordinary and unfulfilling, if I am honest and blunt. Sometimes, I think I want to do anything else, anything other than this hard job, but then her observation reminds me of who I am – an ambassador of knowing and loving – one little person at a time, starting at home, and spreading out bit by bit with everyone I know and love.
Tweetables:
As we listen to others and come to know them better, we’ll learn how to love them better.
We can become ambassadors of knowing and loving one person at a time starting at home.
How does discrimination not feed insecurity?
People assume the quiet are okay with just being, but not in sharing in the communion of story.
What your daughter said of you is so very beautiful and says a lot about the heart God has given you. I empathize greatly with your struggles. At a table of more than two or three, I often struggle to get a word in edge-wise. I hate butting in, but it seems like you have to if you want to be heard in this world. I guess maybe that’s why I like to write so much!
I grew up as the peacemaker in our family: avoiding stress and tension at all cost. I wonder if that has something to do with it. I hate noise and prefer one-on-one conversations. I also wonder what the silent visitors think who read my posts: especially because I share so vulnerably. What helps me is when the insecurity hits to pray for those who make me feel insecure, that God would bless them. Hugs to you. Know you’re an encouragement to me.
I grew up in a stressful environment, although, it wasn’t always stressful. Just sometimes. I guess that is common to all of us. Anyway, I, too, was the peacemaker. I adapted to do anything to avoid the conflict and make peace. I always appreciate your presence here in this space and your sweet comments and feedback. You are definitely an encouragement to me.
Jamie, my friend, so beautifully written! As someone who tends to be the talker at a table there are often times I will leave the situation and think, “Why did I say that? I’m such a dork. If only I could’ve sat there quietly and enjoyed listening to what everyone had to say and take it in.” I struggle with feeling like I should be saying something because silence at the table makes me uncomfortable and I don’t want anyone else to be uncomfortable. So my friend, know that there are those of us who wish we could quietly sit and listen to those around us.