How Am I Doing?

It's a question I have received a lot lately. For various reasons I have chosen not to blog about the situation in Ferguson, Missouri. To be more clear, I have written several blog posts but not put them up because I am upset and don't want to wound with my words. With age I have learned that pain can bring out the worst in us. Pain also distorts our perception of people and events. If we are not careful we can get carried away on a tide of emotion and later drown in a sea of regret. I would rather stand on the shoreline, dry, dusty, and safe than add something negative to the many narratives currently floating around the web.

But today I choose to speak. Today I read an article in the Post Dispatch online by Bill McClellan. I love reading his columns because so frequently I disagree with him. What, you say? You like to read things you disagree with? Yes, I do, because I like to hear perspectives that differ from my own. It gives me clarity on my beliefs. Still, every so often he writes something that resonates with me. Today it was, "Hope for a New Ferguson" where he opined of his hope for the formation of a group of people that are willing to work towards a brighter future for Ferguson, Missouri.

If Bill had asked the right people he would have discovered that there are many groups working toward this goal in my hometown. Last night I went to a town hall style meeting that was held at the First Baptist Church of Ferguson on South Florissant Road. Many of my neighbors gathered there to share ideas on how to move forward after the events of recent days. I went to this meeting with very mixed feelings. I attended with my mother-in-law who has lived in Ferguson for 35 years and has very definite opinions of her own. We sat in the midst of a great crowd of people, all with their own opinions, and listened as our leaders shared--not without intense emotion--how hurt they felt about how we are being portrayed in the media but also how hopeful they are about Ferguson overcoming this dark time in our history.

I moved to Ferguson 17 years ago and have undergone significant transformation in that time. As many of you know, I write a column in The Ferguson Times called Ferguson by Foot. My articles discuss living a healthy lifestyle in simple but practical ways and also about having a positive attitude. It's not unlike my blog except that I focus on Ferguson and the wonderful place it is to live. I lost 140 pounds walking, jogging, cycling and roller-skating around Ferguson. I like to wave to all of my neighbors, those I know and don't know. I like to smile and laugh with them at my sometimes strange antics(waving my arms around to get my heart-rate up and punching invisible goblins). I've even had people honk and wave at me as they drive down my streets because I'm jogging, leaping and dancing in circles(probably to Switchfoot). I like to think I live my life trying to cheer up strangers because I know from personal experience how sad life can be. There hasn't been any dancing, or happiness for that matter, in the past two weeks.

I see a lot of people post messages on social media about how sad the situation in Ferguson is. People are angry too. Everyone has an opinion but most of the people giving an opinion don't live here. I do.

I have invested my life into this city. Every day I pour out my heart into our streets, into the people, into my community. I love Ferguson. And I don't say that lightly. This is my home. But now my home feels unsafe. The mayor promises me it is, but I don't believe him. I love our mayor and I am proud of him, so don't take that the wrong way. He is leading courageously. But I'm sorry, I don't feel safe. There are strangers and interlopers at my local grocery store, unfriendly faces that look past me when I smile and say hello. There are great big news vans with satellite dishes on top and fat, ugly reporters and cameramen glaring at me as I drive by. I have to look at them every time I go to the grocery store, to work, to church. There are "peaceful protesters" waving signs with hateful words on them. They scream and holler. They wave their arms maliciously. I can't walk to the fire station and visit the firemen. I can't walk to the Ferguson library. I can't walk to the display trains in downtown Ferguson with my young son because we are fearful and we don't want to be screamed at. More importantly, I can't walk around Ferguson to exercise in the morning.

In the midst of all this my youngest son began to break out in hives for no apparent reason. (Please don't give me advice—I've had enough). We visited an allergist yesterday and are moving forward but it is possible that the stress of all the commotion in our city has caused his skin to erupt in a horror of itchy welts. So I pray. I pray for Ferguson--for peace. I pray for my neighbors--that they would find a way past their bitterness. I pray for the city leaders--that they would guide us to a better future. I pray for the police officers I love and respect--the brave men and women who have protected me for years. One officer is not all of the officers. And I try not to judge the situation. I wasn't there. I don't know what happened.

So how am I? I am devastated. Tired. And sad beyond words. I worry. I weep. And there is no easy out. As I sat at the community meeting last night I found myself frustrated. Maybe it's because there are no simple solutions. Maybe there are no solutions at all.

I think true change begins in the human heart. We can choose to love. We can choose to forgive. Or we can choose to hate. We can choose to be bitter. We all choose. I will continue to love my neighbors and my community because that is who I am. I have never loved or hated people based on the color of their skin. I love people for who they are on the inside. If you are regular reader of this blog you will know that. But please pray for me. I am not okay. And neither are many of my neighbors. I pray God changes all of our hearts....for the better.