Learning values in their own way.

As I was scrolling through the Time.com website looking at the news headlines one in particular caught my eye. Sunday School for Atheists happened to be at the top of the news. I clicked on the link and saw a picture of a young woman reading to several children. I began to read the article and became very interested in what it had to say.

Groups of atheists all over the United States are starting groups that come together weekly to teach their children values. They have their own version of the Christian Sunday School. The interviews in this article really intrigued me because the people talked of not believing in God at all. Now, I have had my days of straying from the straight and narrow, but I have always believed there is a God.

One of the stories in particular really got to me. A woman spoke of her son talking to someone about the Bible. The son was really interested in this truth that he had been presented and wondered why they didn't believe in it. After that, his mother sent him to a humanist camp to be with other children who had been raised not to believe in God.

As I read further, the article listed the things that these people and their children do in Sunday School. This is where they go to learn values and how to live. The children had studied Stone Soup a book about how a community comes together each person giving one thing to make the soup. If I am not mistaken, I have used this book before in church, or something very similar.

I am not really sure what to think about this Atheist Sunday School. I wonder if they have a class for how to deal with over zealous Christians, like the classes I have seen for Christians on how to deal with Latter Day Saints. I'd be interested in what it would be like to be taught how to live a life of values not believing in God. I'd bet it would be pretty hard.

Weird to us...normal to them

Last week, I was walking through the halls of the Divinity School. I heard various conversations taking place on topics from studying to the weather. As I walked past one of the groups of classmates I heard them talking about weird occurrences. One of the girls said she had seen a headline that a man had wed a dog in India. Imagine that, a man marries a dog in India. I shook my head and kept on walking. The next day, I looked for a news article about this wedding, but could only find the picture on AOL news. I was intrigued by the picture and wanted to know more, but the story hadn't been written yet.

As I was laying here tonight for some reason I thought about the wedding between the man and dog. I googled the topic and found an article. I opened it up and there it was: Man in India Marries Dog As I read the story, I was amazed at why a man would marry a dog.

It turns out that this man married a female dog in a traditional Hindu wedding ceremony as an attempt to atone for stoning two other dogs to death- an act that he believes cursed him. As I continued to read the article I shook my head not understanding why any human would marry a dog. It turns out that in rural India deeply superstitious people sometimes organize weddings to dogs and other animals believing it can ward off certain curses.

I thought, what a backward practice marrying dogs. The article says that after the wedding the family had a feast and gave the dog a bun. Who in their right mind would really marry a dog is what my mind continued to think. To us, this seems quite weird. To them, its the norm. As I thought of this, I was reminded that I am thankful for the forgiveness of my sins through Jesus Christ.
(I'm also praying that no one I know will ever marry a dog... I might just have to laugh out loud.)

(photo credit: www.aol.com)

What I can't say...

Posting blogs has caused a sense of release in my life. When I first started blogging, I was writing almost daily about thoughts or quotes or different things that were happening in my life. I expressed in my ministry journals that I found this blogging to be a sense of release for me. It has been almost like therapy.


For the past month and a half or so I have been experiencing so many emotions and thoughts that I cannot post here on this blog. I cannot post them because they are things I don't want to world to know. I cannot post them because they are things I haven't even admitted believing to myself. I cannot post them because I am scared to let go of them. I feel that if I keep them to myself, I have a safer hold on them.

I had shared with a dear friend that I had all of these things on my mind that I couldn't write for the world to see (yet). She told me I should journal them. I agreed and we moved on.

Today when I arrived at Divinity School, I looked in my mailbox and there was a small gift. I thought what in the world? Now, my friend had told me that she had a small gift for me, but I just wasn't expecting it to be in my mailbox. I took it out of my box to check it out. There it was, a brand new journal. Attached to it was a blue sheet of paper with a note. A portion of it reads: "For all of the thoughts that you cannot post..."

So to my friend, I thank you for the encouragement and support. I thank you for being a faithful reader and for giving me creative ideas for ways to deal with my thoughts and emotions. I am glad you are in my life and I am thankful for this gift!

The things I did....

Last week a friend was talking about the things we do when we are young. She shared her story about her group of friends in middle school. They all made up a fake story about having play practice after school so that they could all stay after school. Only they weren't staying for play practice, they were staying after to practice making out.

After hearing her funny story, I began to think about the things I did. I think I'll share a few. Maybe they will make you laugh. Maybe they will make you remember some of the things you did when you were young.

When I was in 8th grade, I began to really hate gym. I had this coach that no one liked, but she seemed to like me. I tried to come up with ways to get out of participating in gym. I skipped a few times...and got caught. So, instead of continuing to get in trouble, I needed to come up with a way to get out of it. I came up with a fantastic story to tell my coach so that I wouldn't have to participate. I told her that I was pregnant and couldn't participate in P.E. The funny thing is.. she bought it for about 4 weeks and then she asked for a doctor's note. All that time, I sat on the sidelines laughing while everyone else did the exercises and learned how to play basketball and volleyball. You know, my coach didn't punish me for lying. She just made me participate again.

My hatred of gym continued into high school. Somehow, in 9th and 10th grades I ended up with the coolest gym coach ever. Instead of participating in the sports, he let me clean his office out every week. All I had to do was write a paper on the sport that the rest of the class was doing. I got out of participating and didn't have to lie.

As I think about my time as a teenager, I can remember many fun stories. I did a lot of stupid things. I did a lot of things to cry out for attention.


What did you do that was stupid? What did you do that was crazy? Did you do things for attention? Or did you just get by?

So I'm reminded...

I sat down tonight to complete my writing assignment for next week. All I had to do was write a 300 word obituary for myself. This doesn't sound hard, but it was. As I struggled to come up with the best words to say, I realized how hard it was to talk highly of myself. Usually when one reads an obituary they see the persons greatest contributions to society, all of the lives they had touched and so on. It was hard for me to think about the lives I have touched or of any great contributions that I have made to society. After all, how much can a divinity student really do to change the world?

After writing it, I asked one of my closest friends to read it. She did and halfway through said she couldn't take it anymore. It was giving her chills. For my sake, she continued to read it and then she began to express her feelings.

Far too often I think we don't tell people how we feel about them. We tend to be private with our feelings, keeping things to ourselves. We don't tell our friends we love them, we don't share how we really feel because we think "there's always tomorrow."

In my life I have lost many people. Some of these people died. Some of these people have moved out of my life in a way in which I will never find them again. Some of these people I pushed out of my life and some pushed their way out. As I thought about these people I lost, I wondered how many of them really knew how I felt about them.

When you look at my personality type, I am a feelings person. I feel before I think. However, even though I am a feelings person, I don't always do my best at telling people how I feel. I believe that I often hide my feelings so that I have less likely of a chance to get hurt. The truth of the matter is, there is more that I need to share with people than I really do. I need to tell people how I feel.

So I'm reminded...of the challenge once given to me by a wise old friend. "Tell people how you really feel because there may not be a tomorrow."

I challenge you (and myself) to tell people how you feel about them. It will mean the world to them and it will change your world as well.

Trusted Friends

When I was growing up, I struggled with fitting in with the crowd. I had a few trusted friends and basically despised everyone else.

As I have grown older my number of friends has broadened. I have people who have been in my life for certain seasons, some for years, some of only weeks. There are close friends, distant friends, long lost friends, and then those I just consider acquaintances.

Going through life with all those issues has caused me to have times when I really needed a shoulder to cry on, a friend to hug, someone to laugh with, you know all the things a friend does for a person. Whenever I was in need, it always seemed that God put the person there that I needed.

As I have gotten older, I prayed that I would be the friend to people, that people have been to me. I want to be able to be the person that people chose to confide in, the person people trust, the person that people come to when they feel they can go no where else.

You get what you pray for. People come to me all the time and I don't always understand it. People will share things with me that I have no knowledge about. Some will share deep, personal stories while others just share the latest gossip. The point is, I am being that friend. As I asked my trusted friend and counselor, why people choose me she said it was because I am easy to talk to. She said I have an open mind and people know they can trust me. I told her that all sounded great, but I didn't buy it.

Maybe I should start buying it. More and more these days, I have become the trusted friend. I am thankful that God is placing me in the lives of people that need me. I am hearing heart wrenching stories. I am hearing stories of love and laughter. I am hearing stories of pain and suffering. Most of all, I am hearing stories as the trusted friend.

So, as I think about being the trusted friend that hears the stories (that I don't repeat), I think about my trusted friends. I am forever thankful for the lives of the people who have touched me; while I am ever thankful that God has placed me in the lives of those who need a trusted friend.

May we remember that no matter where we walk or the trials we face God has us there for a reason. So look around, find trusted friends and never let them forget that you are thankful.

Red, Yellow, Black, and White...We are precious in His sight

In the past few weeks, I have been contacted by several divinity school graduates to come and speak to various groups at their churches about Islam. Of course, I have agreed to go and help them out with this teaching. As I have been thinking about this, I thought about my life.

I grew up in a rural town on a dirt road, next to my grandparent's 40 acre farm. The closest thing I knew to diversity were the few African American children in my classes. Most of the people I knew and hung around were white. As I went through middle and high school, this stayed the same. When I was accepted to various universities across the Commonwealth of Virginia, I ended up choosing the one closest to home, yet it had some of the greatest diversity. As I arrived on campus for the first day of my freshmen year, I realized I was in the minority. I was surrounded by people from all over the world. I was 17 years old and had never left the East Coast of the United States.

Following that first year in college, I went to Europe for the first time to teach English. Since traveling internationally the first time, my interest was sparked, my feet were wet and I didn't want to stop traveling. I have traveled somewhere internationally each year since then. I am blessed to have been able to do this.

As I embraced the diversity that there was at VCU, I fell in love with the world cultures. It was quite interesting to me that I knew very little about other religions. I am a Christian and hadn't thought much about learning about other religions. Then September 11, 2001 happened. I remember the day and time, I remember where I was and how I reacted. After this tragic time for our country and its people, I decided that the way I could help was to learn more about Islam and help people to understand the true meaning. After all, God calls us to love all people. The following spring semester, I signed up for my first course on Islam. I remember going the first day. I was scared to death because I didn't know a thing and I was scared to fail. I was greeted with smiling faces and warm hearts of the many Muslims that were in the class.

As I continued my studies, I opted for a double major and chose religion with a focus on Christianity and Islam. This became one of the best opportunities for me. I was able to study under some of the best scholars and Imams in Islam. I took courses comparing the three monotheism's. I wrote papers, I read the Qur'an and I attended the masjid (mosque). This was a growing time for me.

During my years in college I became good friends with many Muslim people. I participated in more of the Muslims Student Association events than I did the Christian ones. It seemed that Muslims really knew how to accept people, while I always felt excluded in the Christian groups because I wasn't "like" everyone else.

Upon graduating from college I moved to a very small town in North Carolina where I would begin to attend Divinity School just a few weeks later. I thought that I had lost all of the diversity and that the learning about Islam would stop. I was wrong. I have been able to take world religions and independent research on Islam. Now I am the coordinator for International Student Services at the University working with people of all faiths and backgrounds.

So as I think about going and speaking at these churches in the upcoming weeks, I look at the path I have taken that brought me here. My ability to study and to learn has made me one of the student leaders for knowledge on Islam. I have students that ask me questions all the time. I have helped to build bridges between Islam and Christianity and for that I am truly thankful. Going to speak at these churches is not going to be easy. It is still a little nerve wracking because I struggle with what to say and how people will accept it. For now I can just keep it in my prayers.

As the picture above clearly shows, God created us all with different skin tones, different voices, different everything, yet he loves us all. As I continue to teach and educate others, may I do so in a way that God is exalted and people realize that just because someone believes differently than you it doesn't mean they are bad people.