Amy Medina | Amy Medina

Every morning I would step out under the East African sun onto the piece of heaven called Haven of Peace Academy. I could look out past the palm trees onto the expanse of the Indian Ocean, enveloped in that beauty. Everywhere I walked I was surrounded by children; everywhere I turned there was someone to talk to, a parent, a teacher, a bouncing, dancing first grader. I ate lunch with a Brit and a Dane and a Zimbabwean; every conversation was alive with culture and rich diversity and perspective. My days were full of problems to solve and noise and laughter and light.

Now every day I wake up in my small apartment and take the kids to school. I sit on my couch and am bombarded by the silence. I face the computer all day and my only interactions with other people are through that screen. I fix myself lunch and eat with a magazine. I go to the grocery store and never recognize anyone. I go to church and few know my name. I am alone, and I am unknown. And inside is a yawning emptiness.

The deaths in my life this year line up like tombstones. The death of my self-respect; being forced to leave Tanzania early engulfed my head in shame. The death of feeling competent, knowledgeable, relevant; starting a new job is like becoming a toddler again. The death of being known; the wealth of my relationships in Tanzania took twenty years to build. I lift my weary eyes to climbing that mountain over again and it feels insurmountable.

Ideas Are Always More Important Than Battles

By Amy Medina

On October 22, 2020

In How Americans Think, Living Like a Missionary, Race and Diversity

In 1865, soon after Lincoln’s assasination, anti-slavery Senator Charles Sumner wrote, “Ideas are always more important than battles.” The context was Lincoln’s Gettysburg address, which is now known as one of the most famous speeches of all time.

Sumner said this:
“That speech, uttered at the field of Gettysburg…and now sanctified by the martyrdom of its author, is a monumental act. In the modesty of his nature he said ‘the world will little note, nor long remember what we say here; but it can never forget what they did here.’ He was mistaken. The world at once noted what he said, and will never cease to remember it. The battle itself was less important than the speech. Ideas are always more important than battles.”

This election feels like a battle. Both sides seek to kill and destroy. Friendships broken, people leaving churches, harsh words posted online that would never be spoken in person.

I keep hearing the cry of, “But lives are at stake!” Ironically, both sides say this. Unfortunately neither side’s platform encompasses all the lives Christians should care about. Unborn lives. Black lives. Refugee lives. There’s also the environment, which Christians are commanded to steward well. Or the issue of poverty, where each side sees a different strategy (wealth redistribution or creation?). I see Christians drawing the line in the sand, hurling vicious accusations against the other, both sides decrying the other for being immoral, unChristian, uncaring. We are being forced to take a side, and in doing so, fracturing our values and our souls.

We are faced with impossible choices in this election. No matter who wins, Christians lose something that should be important to them. No matter who wins, we will still have work to do.

I Get to Vote, but This Still Is Not My Country

By Amy Medina

On October 19, 2020

In How Americans Think, Living Like a Missionary

I lived as a foreigner through several election cycles in Tanzania. As a foreigner, that meant I had an opinion about elections, but I didn’t expect it to matter very much. I listened to Tanzanian friends give me their view on the candidates, but I stayed relatively objective. My goal was to understand their thoughts because I wanted to understand their hearts. I was there to reach people with the gospel, not get mired down in political arguments. My purpose there was to love all Tanzanians, not take sides.

My Problem Goes Much Deeper Than Racism

By Amy Medina

On October 16, 2020

In Race and Diversity

I’m white, educated, and American. Some say I therefore must be racist.

I say my problem is much worse.

I might give a good impression on the outside, but you can’t see the number of times I’ve truly believed that I am better than you. Sometimes that might be because you are a different race or ethnicity than me, and I think my race or culture is more effective than yours. Or maybe you’re white too, and I still think I’m better because you made a life choice that makes me feel more moral than you. Maybe I assume I have a better perspective than yours.

Christians, Diversity is Not a Bad Word

By Amy Medina

On October 12, 2020

In Race and Diversity

A favorite memory was the night I heard Victoria tell me her story of growing up in Soviet Ukraine.

Victoria was a wonderful co-worker at Haven of Peace Academy. So when she sat across from me at a staff dinner at an outdoor restaurant, in the dimming evening light, I asked her to tell me about her childhood under Communism.

What was it like growing up in the Soviet Union? I asked. And I sat spellbound as she talked about a carefree childhood where the children could roam freely, because there was very little crime. However, she said, there were also times when neighbors would disappear in the night, never to be seen or heard from again.

She talked about her Christian grandmother, who secretly told her about God and gave her a cross pendant to wear under her school uniform. One day a teacher found it, and forced the seven-year-old Victoria to stand in front of the entire school and stomp on that cross.

Author: Amy Medina Page 25 of 231

I Don’t Want to Waste This Emptiness

Ideas Are Always More Important Than Battles

I Get to Vote, but This Still Is Not My Country

My Problem Goes Much Deeper Than Racism

Christians, Diversity is Not a Bad Word