Monthly Archives: July 2007

Why we’re there…

Hayley and I were nervous – seeing a man as he is about to die is not something that either of us have much experience with. We were coming to have him sign a will and deed to expedite the inheritance process after his passing – once again, we had no prior experience in this arena.

This family had been a part of Hayley’s life for more than six years. She had picked up the two, now teenage boys for Kids Kamp, our church’s summer outreach for kids in our community, when they were little. The relationship continued as we began picking up their two younger sisters. Hayley has wept over this family, prayed for this family and worked to improve this family the entire time she has known them.

We walked through the labyrinth of St. Francis Hospital, looking for the hospice wing. After about 10 minutes of walking, we arrived and began the walk down the hall to our destination.

As we arrived at the room, several people in obvious distress came out of the room and said, “This isn’t a good time. He died five minutes ago.”

A week’s worth of exhaustion, worry and frustration swept over us as we realized that we were too late to do what we had come to do. Hayley began to cry and I stood there, mute. I had nothing to say. No words of comfort or hope.

The kids and mom weren’t there yet, they didn’t know about his passing. We stood there, awkwardly wondering whether we should stay or leave. The family members who were there knew of us – the dad had told them about Hayley and the love she had and the work she had done for the kids. They asked us to stay.

So we stayed. After about an hour of sitting in a small conference room, the mom and kids finally arrived. We sat, silently awkward and uncomfortable, as the family shared the news with the kids. Once again, words failed me as I watched their faces – confusion, sorrow and embarrassment passed over the boys; the girls didn’t seem to understand. They then went as a family into the room where their father lay.

Several minutes passed and Hayley and I rushed down the hall to grab the girls and boys away from the room as the girls wailed and the boys sat staring at their father. Hayley held the two girls and I stood, silent. I tried talking to the two boys, but once again my words felt hollow, pointless. Hayley hugged and rocked and whispered to the girls. She was amazing.

After a while our children’s minister and preacher arrived. We prayed, hugged the girls and left.

As we left that night, drained and exhausted, we both had the same realization: The reason we were at our church that frustrated us doctrinally, the reason we had spent all those frustrating hours trying to tutor those kids, the reason we had been late to church so we could pick up the girls, was for that night. It was for us to be there – Hayley to comfort and me to be there, quiet and awkward, unsure of why I was there, but there, a familiar presence in an unfamiliar time.

In the days that followed, I saw my church rise up and surround this family with love. Through groceries, a memorial service and a meal for the family and friends, our church expressed its commitment to the family in tangible, relevant ways. In the weeks that have followed, that compassion has not decreased. Every time we go to church, people still ask what they can do to help or if there’s anything the family needs.

I am small, easily annoyed, critical and opinionated. All the things that I get fired up about so easily melt away as I watch my church extend the love of Jesus to this family.

The work with this family is not done, in fact, there may be more to do now than ever, but I am comforted in the fact that I have the support of a body that will not stop being the arms and feet of Jesus.

That is why we’re there.

Why are you where you are?

Where I’m coming from

My formative years (middle school) were spent in a hyper-conservative church environment. It was the cofC-way or the hell-way, so to speak. The way I understood God, His church and His word, was – and probably still is – shaped by those years. I understood that my entire purpose here on earth was to go to heaven after I died. This purpose dictated my speech, actions, doctrine and opinions of other people and groups.

In high school, I went to a less conservative, more grace-attuned church, but I still held pretty tightly to some of my old convictions (instrumental worship and salvation to name two).

I then went to Harding University, where little of my worldview was challenged until I took “Human Situation” (I think that was the name of the course) with Dr. Garner and “Christian in the 21st Century” with Dr. Monte Cox. Both classes forced me to examine my worldview and determine upon what it was based. The idea of paradigms entered my…well…paradigm, and I began to recognize and appreciate the importance of where someone is coming from and how that flavors the way they see the world.

Looking back, it seems a bit silly that I had to take a class to understand that. But honestly, I had never given the idea of context or worldview much thought.

So today, I’m reflecting on my context. I know, based on my personality, that many of my opinions and thoughts are reactions to my former worldview. I’m working on respecting where I’ve come from without reviling it and I must admit it’s been a difficult task. It’s also been difficult to respect the people who still hold my former worldview (or various pieces of it) and this has perhaps been more difficult to remedy.

This journey that I’ve been on over the past 13 years has been an interesting one, and I’m anticipating, with hopeful expectation, that the next steps in this journey will be even more remarkable. At the least they’ll be surprising, as I have no idea where I’m headed next – or rather, where God is heading me next.

So, where are you coming from?
EDIT: I’ve reread the post, and I realize that perhaps I’ve communicated that I am no longer committed to Christ. That was not my intention, as it is wholly untrue. I’m more fully in love with Christ today than I ever have been before. I’m more at peace with my purpose and ministry in His church than I ever have been before. I’m more fully alive than I have ever been before.

Hello. My name is Todd Ramsey and I’m a writer.

I’m a writer.

I’m going to write a book. This book may never grace the shelves of my local (or any) Barnes & Noble. This book may never be read by anyone aside from my wife, mom and my great-grandchildren when they’re going through my storage shed.

But it will be written.

Because, you see, I’m a writer.

But here’s the rub: Writing takes time. It takes work. It takes a desire to roll up one’s sleeves and put in the energy necessary to push through the blocks, lack of creativity and the feeling of empty-brain.

But I’m a writer. I will do work. I will write, even when I don’t feel like it. Even when what I’m writing feels stupid, pointless or like the trash that lines the bottom of a McDonald’s dumpster – I will write.

What am I going to write? Who knows. I only know that my creation will be a work of fiction, perhaps targeted toward a younger generation. The book is still swimming around in my brain with small glimpses of plot, characters and settings bobbing to the surface, just out of reach and probably too slippery to even try to grasp. But they’re there, serving both as constant reminders of the work I have to do and the creative fuel I need to do it.

So, here we go. The adventure beings.

I am a writer.

Happy Friday.

Fasting for Darfur

There are few issues that transcend our political and religious differences. It’s all too easy for us to construct walls that divide us as humans and limit our resources, energy and, ultimately, our effectiveness.However, there is an issue that requires that we set aside these differences — that we lay aside that which divides and work together to create change.

That cause is Darfur.

There’s a good chance you’re already familiar with this cause. It has received increased attention from musicians and actors – Vanity Fair even had an entire issue dedicated to Africa and the many crises on that continent. This increased attention, while indeed wonderful, has done little to slow the atrocities occurring in the Darfur region of Sudan.

The Holocaust. Cambodia. Bosnia. Rwanda. After each tragedy, world leaders loudly and proudly declared “Never Again.”

Amazingly, the words “never again” have continued to be uttered in the months – and now years – that have passed since 2003, when the killing began in Darfur – more than 400,000 have been killed and 2.5 million displaced.

This must not continue. We must not allow the world to ignore – or worse, condone – what is happening. Though we are not presidents, political powerhouses or world leaders, we can – and must – take up this responsibility.

There are thousands – maybe millions – of people just like us – ordinary, everyday people – who desire to be able say that when those in power turned a deaf ear and a blind eye, people like us spoke so loudly, in numbers so great, that we could not be ignored.

I ask you to join the fight. To add your voice to those who are declaring “Never Again” – not just as lip service – but as a promise. I invite you, confident that your effort will not be in vain. I firmly believe the power and passion of the many can override the reservations of the few, regardless of their position and prominence.

Genocide is an exceptional crime. It will only be overcome if our extraordinary ordinary voices unite.

What you can do:
There are several ways to add your voice. The first is to get informed. There are a number of websites — Enough Project, Eyes on Darfur and the Council on Foreign Relations’ Darfur Crisis Guide are good places to start — and books — Darfur Diaries, What is the What and Not on our Watch — that provide context and helpful information about the crisis.

The second thing to do is sign up in the Save Darfur database. You will receive monthly updates with specific calls to action that take no more than a couple of minutes. These include sending emails to president Bush, faxes to your representatives or letters to your local news editor.

The third opportunity is to take the time to write a letter to your State representative and senators. Use the talking points found on any of the above websites. Let them know that this issue is important to you and to the future of America. I know, you may be thinking, “What good is this going to do?” But already, 13 states have divested their state employee retirement funds from companies that have ties to Sudan — Kansas’ investments alone were worth $33 million — thanks to constituents putting pressure on their representatives.

Fourth, if you have a blog, personal website, Facebook, MySpace or other internet presence, dedicate a day of your blog, a section of your MySpace or a page of your website to the people of Darfur. Link to one of the websites or, in your own words, share what’s happening in Darfur and what your friends can do to add their voices to ours.Finally, host your very own Darfur awareness event. This can be a small, intimate dinner gathering or a large, elaborate art show/spoken word/concert event. Just make sure that your friends and your community are aware of what is happening in Darfur and what they can do to help. (If you need any ideas for an event or what “calls to action” to provide your attendees, feel free to contact me.)

Just do something. It’s not enough to feel sad and full of pity for the people of Darfur. They don’t need our pity. They need our help.

Let’s raise our ordinary voices to create extraordinary change.