JoeTucker’s Weblog

It was not less than a week ago that I walked to the Indo-Chinese American council to begin my weekly Thursday math-tutoring to the group of 18-22 year olds trying to attain their high school equivalency diploma; a group that was slowly becoming my friends as we shared lunches, jokes, stories, and life. On the walk to tutoring, I passed a neighbor.

This neighbor was a mainstay in our neighborhood. We met him our first weekend in town cleaning up the block. He was an old man who diligently took care, greeted, and looked out for the block and the people within. He always said hello to us and would walk across the street to pound our fists. He was a good neighbor.

He was stumbling as he walked. At 9 am, my neighbor and I passed. I asked if he needed help, if he was ok. He responded with a degree of shock and an air of away-ness, “I don’t need help, I’m high. Drinking that cow’s piss.”

Now I don’t know what cow’s piss is (and I intend on looking it up on urbandictionairy.com), but I was dismayed. Here was a mainstay of our neighborhood, stumbling home stoned out of his mind.

And I arrived at Indo-China, tutored, and talked, laughed, and wished a merry Christmas to the folks that I wouldn’t see again until after the New Year. I headed home, somehow got through the craziness that Thursday after school is (Thursdays are the last day of after school for the week and inevitably end up being the craziest and hardest days), attended a Mission Year Christmas party, then proceeded to drive home through the night courtesy of my good friend Noah.

We reached Akron at 8 in the morning. I hugged my family, wrestled with my dog, then proceeded to drive to Columbus to drop off my roommate. A power nap. Drive back to Akron. Hello to friends. Dinner. Crash.

Saturday and Sunday and Monday have come and gone in a blur of old friends, catching ups, new stadiums, doctorate parties, bachelor parties, church services, dates scheduled, sisters, dog-walks, present wrappings, and good conversation. (Oh! and not to mention a whole lot of inward awkwardness in being among just whites again, i love the diversity of the city!!)

And now I find myself blogging. Processing the fact that I was in Philly and am now in Akron. That I have talked already to some of my best friends and have left behind some of my newest. It is weird to say the least.

And freshest in my mind is the exchange I had with a friend who drove me home. We discussed a mutual friend who had ‘lost her way’ so to speak. And the realities of life were before me.

People will stumble through life wherever they are. Whether it is my new neighbor stumbling down Ruscomb, high at 9 in the morning or my college friend struggling with identity, sexuality, and depression. We can’t help but stumble.

It seems that the way of this life is rough.

Unsteady. Crooked.

And more and more the goal of not just Mission Year, but following Christ becomes evident to me. We are a voice. A voice declaring,

      “In the desert prepare
       the way for the LORD ;
       make straight in the wilderness
       a highway for our God.

       Every valley shall be raised up,
       every mountain and hill made low;
       the rough ground shall become level,
       the rugged places a plain.

       And the glory of the LORD will be revealed,
       and all mankind together will see it.
       For the mouth of the LORD has spoken.”    (Isaiah 40:3-5)

We shout out to those hard of hearing or speak quietly to those whose spirits are tired that their time in the desert is drawing to a close. That the LORD of Love comes to comfort and forgive. To uplift and renew. To heal and to save. We proclaim that another world is possible to the afflicted in the city and to the aimless throughout the land. We profess his peace, freedom, equality, and love. 

And as we call out, inwardly we await the fullness of His promise.

And one day my neighbor will not need to get high to escape the pains of his life. And one day my friend will know that she is loved.

Those who have hears, let them hear.

Grace and peace.

Things have been happening very fast here in Philadelphia. Thanksgiving has come and gone and now in less than three weeks, I will be heading home for Christmas. Within the last weeks, I have met more new friends, engaged in many a deep conversation, been challenged with other injustices and vices, and have continued to serve with three non-profit organizations. Things have been ‘good,’ but also hectic, challenging, and tiring. So I felt it necessary to take some time to simply process these many thoughts via blogging. Here goes!

I realize as I consider the words to type, that uncertainty unsettles me. The idea or state of not knowing what to do or how to live or where to go creates in me a great deal of unrest. Furthermore as a leader, uncertainty in my life means certain uncertainty in my leadership (how can I lead if I know not where I am going??). So as I serve, live, and learn here in Philly, again and again, I find myself in places of uncertainty, and I find myself desperately searching for some semblance of solidarity, understanding.

And the danger here is being simplistic. The danger with what I’m about to say is that it comes off as a Sunday school answer, not as the deep, lived out answer to my life questioning. So with that in mind, I have found that Christ and Christ alone is my solid ground. I cannot rest on knowledge, achievement, my own ability, humanity, law, money, family, community, or any other facet of life that generally brings us some degree of ‘grounded-ness’ (and I use that term {which I made up} loosely here).

Only Christ is certain. But what does that mean?

It means His love for me is certain. It means I can rest in His promises of restoration and return. It means His call to love and lay down one’s life is not foolish (although at times it seems to be nothing but). It means that the act of following Christ, wherever that leads, is the greatest of pursuits.

And unfortunately for me, it means living in the uncertainty of faith. For to follow Christ means that daily we choose Him and the unknown that is accompanied with following Him, rather than what we ‘know’ we can rely on.

I hope this post encourages you, reader. I feel that I wrote this more for myself than anyone else.

Grace and peace.