Tag: Friendship

  • When Friendships Fail

    When Friendships Fail

    It has taken me decades to embrace the beauty and benefit of failure. I did not embrace it as a high school student, young engineer, or businesswoman. I didn’t believe then what I believe now; failure is not final. Failure is refining. Failure is formative. For so long it has held such finality in my life, that I have been almost acrobatic in my avoidance of it. I would only come to learn later, that a perfectly prescribed life is devoid of freedom. Perfection is a myth. Today I am free and yet failure abounds.

    I have grown skilled at bouncing back from failure in my career, but last year left me in a quandary when many of my friendships began to fail. When my friendships failed, they most certainly reflected a host of unmet expectations. Again and again. This was unfamiliar territory. Most of 2020 left me with a lingering feeling of disconnected Sundays and disloyal Mondays. I was surrounded by people who were unable to care/support me, but repeatedly expressed care/concern for me. In a move to find peace and interrogate my heart, at the end of 2020, I halted all communication with those friends and questioned whether these failures were final. This was not a moment of cancellation in a time of discomfort, but rather a pursuit of clarity in a time of chaos.

    It is near the end of 2021 and I have still not spoken to many of those friends. The time hasn’t come. This year long interrogation of my heart allowed me to see something which only becomes crystal clear in adversity; there was an idol among us called friendship. In western culture it is common for youthfulness and marriage to be idolized. People go to great lengths to appear young and unavailable. As a single woman who isn’t trying to reverse the clock and isn’t sprinting to the altar, I found myself unknowingly exalting the “strong friendships” I’ve held for years. The idol of friendship came tumbling down in 2020 when adversity hit hard.

    Meriam Webster defines idol as a representation or symbol of an object of worship; a likeness of something; a pretender, imposter. In earnest, I knew idolization was present when I began to subconsciously link their success or failure (as a friend) to my own success. I didn’t picture a reality where these individuals would deeply disappoint me, but they did. I didn’t picture a reality where these individuals would cause me such sadness, but they did. I definitely didn’t picture a world where I would willingly disrupt communication with them, but I did. I didn’t imagine a world where they would fail me. Idols are to be worshipped not humanized. In His sovereignty, God continues to use friendships to make me more like Him.

    God will use what we idolize to sanctify us.

    Preston Perry

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    When friendships fail – I can grieve

    The year 2020 nearly broke me and my relationship with the church. Although I don’t love God less, I am less likely to trust “his people.” This is a statement of grief I held over dismantled friendships with some christians. I recognize that trust will take time, but it is not impossible. When I thought failure was final in friendship, I packed away my grief and moved on. Time away from these friendships allowed me to grieve what was lost without the pressure to pretend all is well. Grief helped me see their humanity and tear down the idols.

    When friendships fail – I can begin again

    I am beginning the journey of rebuilding some of those friendships. It is strange to me, but I am beginning again with people I’ve known a long time. I’m learning that failure doesn’t have to be final in friendship. I’m also learning that sincere forgiveness is more powerful that superficial reconciliation. I don’t know that future of many of these friendships, but I do know that seeing them through a human lens changes everything. I don’t know at which point in life I moved away from that concept, but I’m getting back to humanity. Leaving the idea of perfect friendships behind hasn’t been easy, but I am confident it will be worth it.

  • Miseducation of Privilege

    Miseducation of Privilege

    As a Black Christian woman I have more anxiety on the Sunday or Monday following tragic events such as the #Charlottesville attack because the work of racial reconciliation is exhausting.  The Sunday following Charlottesville (which happened to be less than 24 hours later), I remember being hopeful as I entered church that I would regain some of my sanity.  At least a little bit.  Thinking to myself,  this Sunday at least one non-person of color would come up to me and legitimize the concern I privately expressed to many.  I recounted the personal conversations held following the election of our President regarding his rhetoric and lack of empathy for non-whites.  At the time, I shared that I thought his views would give credence to those who held extremist and racist views to become hyper-visible and less concerned with “hiding” their views or their faces.  We witnessed that in #Charlottesville.

     

    This was not a moment of wanting to be right.  This was a moment of wanting to be validated.  I wanted to feel sane, if only for a moment.  The context here is that I have spent countless hours listening, sharing, and praying with congregants and colleagues as we earnestly look to live reconciled.   Yet, I exited my phenotypically diverse church that day without a single conversation or acknowledgement from a white person.  I exited with increased ache in my heart.  I exited wondering how many more Sundays will I sit in this pew and wrestle with the passivity of privilege and the tone policing of my voice. I then hoped for a face to face conversation, text, phone call on Tuesday, Wednesday, or any day.  It did not occur.  Exhaustion enters stage right.

    After reflecting on Amy’s blog, How Do I Handle My Privilege, and her compelling question at the end which asked ‘What privilege do you have, and how can you use it to serve the underprivileged?’  I stumbled upon a revelation.  

     

    In the United States of America, privilege has been a silent teacher for hundreds of years.  Privilege, white privilege, for those who possess it, has taught that good things will come to them simply because of who they are – even if that good thing is racial reconciliation.   

    Many would argue that hatred is a learned behavior.  I’d contend that just as hatred is taught, so is the passivity of privilege.  It is mostly taught without using words.  Privilege by its very nature is passive.  It demands absolutely nothing of its possessor. It teaches its possessor to protect it at all cost.  Privilege indirectly teaches that if one desires racial reconciliation, then it will be achieved by simply waiting for the “perfect, comfortable, opportunity” to have a difficult conversation, ask an awkward question, or get to know a person outside of your ethnicity.  Privilege has written thousands of history books and passed hundreds of laws. And with events like #Charlottesville, it waits patiently to reconcile.  We’ve been miseducated, and the western church has been an active pupil.  

    Miseducation definition: a wrong or deficient education

    Racial reconciliation is costly.  It takes work.  

    Many desire racial reconciliation through a five-step process or a “quick read.”  I’ve had countless people ask me to give them a resource to navigate this difficult and messy space. For instance, there’s a local church in our city that offers a fantastic six week workshop on race which creates a safe space for people in the community to listen to one another, grow in empathy, and dialogue.  However, I’ve encountered many who’ve been content with attending this six week session and reference this as their “work” in racial reconciliation.  I commend people for attending; however, when this session ends, the work of racial reconciliation doesn’t.  If the only desire is a resource, racial reconciliation may not be realized.  It happens over time through empathy, honesty, contrition, and proximity.  Get close. Get uncomfortable. Get honest.  

    If the American church desires to really model racial reconciliation, the Church must re-educate itself.   Learn from Black folks.  Listen to Black folks.  Lament with Black folks.  Let Black folks lead.

    I don’t want a racial reconciliation that demands more of one follower of Christ than the other.  I pray that my encounter on the Sundays following tragic events are less anxious and more intentional.  As Amy stated in the previous blog, may we be known by what we lay down, rather than by any privilege we hold high.  

    As a follower of Christ, I remain hopeful that racial reconciliation will occur in earnest as I continue to engage in uncomfortable conversations, love others where they are, and speak truth to power.   I’m encouraged that others are doing the same.  I have not thrown in the towel on racial reconciliation.  Each day I hold tightly to the hope I have in Christ, anchored by the reality of my desperate need for Jesus as I do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with my God.  

    Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends. – John 15:13

    Maybe the first act of laying down one’s life is to lay down the passivity of privilege.

    As we lay down our respective privilege, I pray that we build authentic relationships across multiple ethnic groups, help restore broken communities, and recognize systems that perpetuate marginalization for disadvantaged groups. May we use our power, resources, and influence to tear these oppressive systems down; decision by decision. Racial Reconciliation, like sanctification (process of becoming more like Christ), is worked out daily.  It is not a one time act.  It is a lifestyle.  

    The church has been “waiting” for racial reconciliation for too long.  Let’s intentionally give differently, life differently, and love differently.  Not just in words, but in lifestyle.

    May privilege be ousted as primary instructor in the work of racial reconciliation and be replaced by empathy that leads to action.

    “He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”  – Micah 6:8 ESV

  • Perspectives on Privilege & Racial Reconciliation: A Collaborative Blog Series

    Perspectives on Privilege & Racial Reconciliation: A Collaborative Blog Series

    Mika's Blog Post Pic

    My friend Shamika KariKari, affectionately known as Mika, has gathered myself and two other women to collaborate on perspectives in privilege and racial reconciliation over the next four weeks. I’m stoked to collaborate with these women!  Mika starts us off  this week with her heart and perspective.  


    Heather and Holly were the first friends I made in school. It was back in 1990 when I was 5 years old and in kindergarten. They were also twins which made our friendship extra special for my twin sister and me. And they were white. I could not have anticipated that our afternoon kindergarten class at Becker Elementary would be the beginning of my ability to build genuine friendships across race.

     

    From a young age I noticed segregated spaces around me. I vividly remember my twin sister and I often being the only Black faces in a sea of white spaces. We had a way of making white people feel comfortable. Some of this rubbed off from our parents who were always open to white people, even when the gesture was not returned. We dated white boys, had white friends over for dinner and sleepovers and my parents were unfazed. Looking back, I see how my upbringing forced me to navigate white spaces with ease and confidence, but also at a cost. The cost of giving up some of me in order to be more palatable to white people was high. I didn’t have the language to articulate this then, but now I understand more deeply that tension.

     

    As an adult, I see the racial divide continues. Although I haven’t been called a nigger, I have experienced other racial slurs and microaggressions.  In recent years I have witnessed countless Black women & men killed by police officers for being Black. People like Sandra Bland, Rekia Boyd, Sam DuBose, Mike Brown, and the list goes on and on. Our Black skin continues to be reason enough to be feared.

     

    I’ve organized spaces to grieve these unjust deaths.
    I’ve participated in discussions to process these unjust deaths.
    I’ve protested these unjust deaths.
    And yet, I still have a desire to do more. I’ve felt God lay on my heart the role I should play in regards to racial reconciliation in the Christian community.

     

    I go to a church whose values are devotion, discipleship, and diversity.
    I have Christian friends of many races.
    And yet, the divide still feels great.
    Sometimes the weight of racial division in the U.S. feels so great I’m left paralyzed to do anything.
    And I think a lot of us can agree with that feeling.
    We think the problem is too big, so we do nothing.
    And although this is an easy place to land, I know God has called me to do more.
    To trust him to bring racial reconciliation to our community and for me to do my part in that.

     

    So I asked myself, what could I do in my sphere of influence? What could my contribution be? I love writing and love people; why not start there? And this is how this blog collaboration was born. Since I write in my blog, albeit infrequently, I know I have a diverse readership, which isn’t something I see often. Typically I see blogs that either speak to white women or women of color. I rarely find writing that intentionally has both in mind. I wanted to change that, so I decided to bring 3 of my friends along for the journey. Precious, Amy, & Joy are all insightful and engaging writers who love Jesus. They are women I admire, women I trust, and women whose lights shine brightly. These are the type of women everyone deserves to hear from. We each committed to write an essay focused around themes of racial reconciliation and privilege from our unique lived experiences. We also committed to share the other 3 posts on our respective blogs so our readers are exposed to multiple perspectives.

     

    A four week blog series isn’t going to end systemic racism or racial division; however, I know God has called me to do something, and I will obey. As well, I know God can and does use us to advance his kingdom even if I have no clue what the outcome of this collaboration will be.  God has only asked me to have a willing heart and trust him to do the rest. And that’s what I’m going to do – follow God’s prompting and trust that he will use 4 women to begin conversations around racial reconciliation because God’s heart is to see his people unified and reconciled.

     

    So as you journey with us, I pray your heart will be open to what God wants to reveal to you.
    I pray you would open your heart to each of our perspectives that were uniquely designed by God.
    I pray you are empowered to do something based on your role in racial reconciliation.
    I pray you would be quick to listen and slow to speak.

     

    How gracious of God to use someone as broken as me for his glory. How will he use you?

     


    About the Author

    O34816 Shamika KarikariMika Karikari is a proud Black woman who loves Jesus, baking, sports, and writing. She currently spends most of her time reading and writing for her PhD program in higher education administration. She lives in her beloved hometown, Cincinnati, Ohio, with her handsome husband. Mika’s writing can be found on her blog, I am Enough. It currently focuses on grief, social justice, poetry, and faith.


    Precious Jones is the proud daughter of parents who’ve known struggle.  The familial impact of poverty and struggle shape her writing.  She works in youth & education advocacy for those marginalized.  She’s a former Electrical Engineer who delights in creating through writing.  She is a proud southerner turned foodie who loves people more than she loves good food and a good read. She resides in Cincinnati, OH and candidly shares her predilections [bias, leaning, weakness & predisposition] on her blog, Precious Predilections.

     

    Joy Becker is a wife and mama living in Cincinnati, Ohio. She recently resigned from a twelve-year career as a literacy coach and first grade teacher to become a full time stay-at-home-mom with her two young darlings. She is a lover of new notebooks, October, and goat cheese, and a hater of traffic, scary movies, and overcooked asparagus. You can peek even further into her love for Jesus, food, motherhood, and friendship over at 44 & Oxford.

     

    Amy Seiffert is a wife of 17 years and mom of 3, who never thought she would love raising her family in a small college town. She works at Brookside Church as the Director of Outward movement and has the privilege of occasionally preaching. Amy loves tennis, ice cream, and making beautiful things . In between diapers changes, laundry, and soccer practices, she writes, blogs, speaks, and is working on her book on motherhood.  She has been in a monthly book club for 17 years and cannot believe Oprah has not brought them on her show. Amy inspires, teaches and humbly relates to the mystery and messiness of life. She tells all at www.amyseiffert.com