Call Out

A couple of weeks ago I was ready to feed my family chicken fried rice and eggrolls.  We were enjoying a rare Saturday when neither I nor my husband had to work.  I had piled everything into bowls and was ready to move them to the kitchen table and holler at everyone to come eat when the distinctive sound of my husband’s phone alerting him there was a new message from his work group startled me.  Then there was a text.  My husband and I, both standing in the kitchen, exchanged glances and matching frustrated sighs knowing exactly what that alert meant. 

He gets called out occasionally for 4am fatality accidents and sometimes for some crazy person holed up in a warehouse being threatening and all that but I’m grateful that this doesn’t happen with as much frequency as it does other departments.  He’s not quite as thankful and that’s a matter for another time, I still call it a blessing. 

This particular Saturday he happened to get called out to help not only control a group gathered to protest the executive order regarding immigration but also to protect them.   He was away from us until about 3 a.m. only to have to leave again at 8 a.m., enough time to sleep for a couple of hours and head out again.  It adds to what I’m about to say to know that he was commended by name in an email sent to his chief from a protestor that noted his professionalism and calm in upholding an American’s right to freedom of speech. 

I will not comment on whether or not he or I agreed with these protestors.  It’s important to know that he, along with so many of his coworkers, acting with dignity serving people regardless of the evenings, the dinners, the birthday parties or the Daddy daughter dances they had to leave behind in a hurry with scrambling families trying to explain to little ones or party guests.   They served with a solid presence and a sure discernment of what their duty was. 

I was worried this time more so than usual, having seen so many protests, and there are truly too many to name or count and many don’t really deserve attention.  Some of these protests  lately turn into violent, destructive temper tantrums.  I thought about all the cops that have been brutally attacked, singled out, murdered.  I stayed up late watching news feeds intermittently trading that off for reading a book that provided ample distraction.  I tried to stay up until I knew he was home safe but a golden headed 3 year old girl wanted to snuggle at about 2 in the morning and I drifted off with her.  Sunday, another planned family day, was also donated to someone else’s cause and while both will be reflected on a paycheck they still cost us something. 

For every freedom you may take for granted, there is a human being with the tact, intellect and capability to protect it.  My husband is one of them.  He has a life and 3 kids and a crazy but well-meaning wife. 

There’s a lot to learn here.  In a world where everyone is upset and seemingly screaming and yelling and carrying on someone must keep their head. 

I feel like I’m constantly barraged by other people’s emotions and that’s partly the effect of partaking in too much social media.  It’s a constant stream of calls to action and posts or comments intended to rile you up and make you feel something. 

I’m going to make an analogy here that I pray you won’t find offensive.  I grew up in the Church of Christ and still worship within it.  It is my home.  Historically the church does not worship with instrumental music.  I’ve mentioned before that I am no bible scholar so please don’t expect a debate here.  I’ve been asked several times in my life about this characteristic of the church by people of other denominations.  My response usually goes like this:  There are a lot of verses in the bible that people use to argue for or against instrumental music.  I’ll tell you what I know.  When I am worshipping and there is an emotional display in front of me, including varying sounds from varying instruments and microphones and singers, a situation that lends itself more to a concert than a church service I get tantalized and emotionally involved, I’m led to a mountain top, I’m entertained and as this happens my capacity to come before God and worship him, within the quiet depths of my heart is depleted.  I’m being carried to the mountain top by someone else instead of hiking there myself.  When I’m sitting on a pew participating in an old hymn sung in 4 part harmony and simply led by the congregation itself, I’m home with Him and I came there myself. 

When I see all of the emotion and calls to action out on display in this confusing and embattled country we live in; in this social media society, it’s too much.  It’s like the Protestors.  Some of whom of late are carried away with the mob and led to destruction.  When I’m living simply, diligently, intentionally in a somewhat quiet way, in a way that a lot of people might find boring, I am a much better servant.  I can keep my head and maintain calm amidst the chaos. 

Men leaving their families on a Saturday night, who stood for hours protecting up to one thousand people with signs and a fresh argument on their lips, who said nothing when it was clear that they would go without food most of the day, who were courteous and kind, strong and resilient, speak volumes more that anyone wearing a beanie and holding a sign and waiting to bait the news crews that linger around the crowd. 

I guess my point is this; the world right now is crazy.  We, as a society plaster everything out there on social media in such a public way.  We protest everything.  There is a lot of yelling.  So much noise.  Maybe we should all quiet down a bit.  Maybe we should stay off Facebook and twitter for a while and actually live.  Maybe we should look with our eyes and not the cameras on our phones.  Maybe we should seek out Him in everything.  I see God in those men serving people I disagree with politically and socially; people I feel are behaving with such crudeness.  I can learn a lot from them, I think we all can. 

I’ve struggled to put this into words for a few weeks, starting to write and stopping when my emotions become more than I can type out.  I may have done a poor job even now.  Last night as I was doing some Bible reading the verse pictured above jumped out at me and I thought I may have needed to give this another go.