Sunday, January 20, 2013

Why New Orleans Matters (to me)

This post has been on my heart for months...here's hoping my words today can be clear.

Part of my reason for writing now is that twice in one week I have had conversations with people about the city and why I love it here. One of the conversations was with coworkers (most of whom were born and raised in the area and lived through Katrina). The other was with a group of girlfriends, as one was sharing about her struggles with adjusting to life in this city and how she just can't call this place home.So I think now is the time to write.


I should start by stating it simply. I love New Orleans.

When Matt and I first starting discussing my potential move and our potential future here, I was not thrilled, to say the least. However, my reservations had very little to do with the city itself and much more to do with its location 10 hours away from my family and hometown. But the fact of the matter is that I did not want to move. However, over a period of several months of praying and talking, I really felt like the Lord was asking me to step out of my comfort zone, and to move to this foreign land of heat, humidity, mosquitoes, old houses, raucous parties, and crazies. (Yes, sadly, this was my expectation for the place I would be calling home.) Anyway, I agreed.

As soon as I arrived, though, I was enchanted. There is something so inviting and mysterious about the city. It's as if you just want to keep walking or driving around the next corner, because you just don't know what you might see. There is always a new restaurant to try, a new festival to attend, new people to meet (and the people always have such interesting stories!). It didn't take me long to be smitten.  Before I really fell in love, I appreciated the same things other "outsiders" enjoy: the food, the music, Mardi Gras, the atmosphere. However, since I've been here for more than three years now, my love has grown deeper. Now, I appreciate some better things: I truly love the people, the history, the culture that is the fabric of life here. One of my favorite activities porch sitting and chatting with my neighbors. My favorite date night is at Dick & Jenny's, a neighborhood restaurant within a five minute walk from our house. Nothing beats the feeling of running on St. Charles at daybreak.

All of these conversations and ponderings got me to thinking about a book I read last year. It is called Why New Orleans Matters by Tom Piazza and it is beautiful and true. I even bought I copy for my Mom, and I'm hoping it will help her see why a girl like me could love a place like this. (I'd buy each of you reading this one, too, if you'd like....the book is that good!)

The books shares some funny anecdotes, and some sad truths. But this particular line stuck out to me:
"New Orleans is a city of elegance, beauty refinement, and grace. It is also a city of violence, poor education and extreme poverty" (76).

It is one of the deepest truths about New Orleans that it is a place of great juxtaposition. It is old and new. It is rich and poor. It is beautiful and broken. Aren't we all? I think that's part of what I love so much about this place. It is kind of like all of us. Sometimes I find myself focusing so much on one aspect that I forget the other exists. For example, during Mardi Gras time, when the city has put on her best dress, when beads are thrown and music is played, and people are just happy to stand on the sidewalk and just BE, on those days, I see beauty. On an evening stroll through the Quarter on our way to Irene's for dinner, with jazz notes hanging in the thick night air, I see beauty. I don't notice the trash or the debauchery or the darkness that undoubtedly resides around the corner. Other times, though, like when I am driving up Washington towards Claiborne, all I can see is poverty. When I am stopped at a red light by the interstate and see a man with a sign asking for money, all I can see is despair. When I watch the news in the morning and hear of the latest murders, my heart breaks and I'm not sure when or how it will ever stop. But no matter how distracted I can be by beauty at times and brokenness at others, I must remember that I live in a city that is both, simultaneously. I think we all live in places like that, no matter what city or country we're in. We live in a beautiful and broken world.



Matt recently shared with our church family about how as Christians we're called to live in the city with a purpose, taking the ministry and message of reconciliation that we've been given to those who need it the most - those who are poor (whether physically, emotionally, relationally or spiritually). And that is just what we Bricks are trying to do. Last fall, we spent a Saturday morning serving the city as part of Mayor Landrieu's NOLA for Life campaign. We helped clean up a park in Central City. We got to meet some of the kids who play in that park and help them make their community safer. We are looking forward to getting behind this or other similar causes in the months and years to come.

But this mission that Matt and I are involved with is more than community service - for us, its a way of life. It means engaging and loving our neighbors and sharing life with them; and I mean really sharing life, not just waving hello as we run from our cars into our front doors but instead actually getting to know them and what they do and where they're from and who they are. It is much easier to do this in a city, especially in a shotgun-style house like we live in where we share a front porch with our neighbors. It means living in a smaller house than we might if we lived elsewhere. It means street parking and long waits for the streetcar or bus at times because nothing in NOLA is ever on time. It means having to plan weekend plans during Mardi Gras around whether you'll be able to make it back home before they close streets down. But it also means having true community with aforementioned neighbors; getting to walk to dinner or the grocery or the bus stop. It means the dry cleaner knows our name as soon as Matt walks in the door and Cesar his barber gives him a special deal because he's been a client for five years now. I could go on and on. The point is, living with a purpose in this city (or any city) is tough at times, but when you love a place it is so worth it.


So, NOLA friends, I'd be interested to hear from you. Why does New Orleans matter to you?
And everyone else, come on down and see what all the fuss is about. But be careful, you might just have to stay!



Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Words of Wisdom

Lately I've been thinking a lot about my words, how I use them, and the impact my words have on my heart.

I was at a Christmas service recently where we sang O Come All Ye Faithful. Tears filled my eyes as we repeated the lines "O come let us adore him" and "For He alone is worthy". In the stillness of the moment, contemplating those phrases overwhelmed me. My mind rested on the word "adore" and thoughts drifted to its more commonly utilized cousin "love". I was convicted thinking about how carelessly I throw that word around. I say that I love my husband, I love my new shoes, I love pumpkin spice lattes from Starbucks, I love Jesus. See how vastly different those things are? Do I really feel the same about my favorite pair of shoes as my husband? A coffee drink and the Creator of the Universe? Obviously I don't!

So then, part of the problem is that I am not careful with my words. I allow popular semantics and cultural norms to effect my speech. I ignore advice from the book of James. I have not tamed my tongue. One of the strongest analogies in James 3 is "Look at the ships also: though they are so large and are driven by strong winds, they are guided by a very small rudder wherever the will of the pilot directs." (James 3:4) It speaks right to the fact that our tongue, though small and seemingly powerless, has an unmistakeable impact on our very hearts and lives.

I am also considering how the words that come out of my mouth direct the attitudes of my heart. Or maybe it is the other way around and the attitudes of my heart impact the words that roll off my tongue. Either way, my heart and my words are inextricably connected and I know I need to be more careful with both. How often do I hear (and yes, even distribute on occasion) gossip - hurtful and ugly words about others? And how do those words shape my view on the person of whom I am speaking? How often do I allow lies spoken into my head "I am a failure"; "This outfit makes me look too fat/thin/young/old"; "I could never do that"; "I'm not worthy" come out of my mouth? Only I know the depth of the damage those words do to my self worth - and I can say it is pretty extensive.

With all these thoughts rolling around in my head, in the New Year, I am praying that I might be a woman of fewer words - more meaningful words, truer words, wiser words. That I'd use my words to encourage and not to tear down. That I would be precise, acknowledging that I enjoy my pumpkin spice latte, that I appreciate the beauty in my shoes, that I admire my husband and that I adore my God. I am praying, as the psalmist wrote, that the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart would be acceptable to The Lord, who is my rock and my redeemer (Psalm 19:14).