Moving Forward

Today - just over seven months after my first visit - was my last time in Tent City of Lakewood, NJ. I said the good-byes I needed to say, hugged a tree or two (and consequently got covered in MORE SAP), and drove off.

And as I sit here right now and type this, I feel a complete sense of peace. It wasn't an easy decision, but for me, it was the right one.

This truly is something I've been praying and thinking on for quite a while. And let me make it clear that I have absolutely no regrets whatsoever about the time I've spent there. Quite the opposite - I'm taking so much with me. Friendships. Faith. Memories. Countless life lessons. An entirely new perspective, a renewed sense of purpose, and a more confident sense of direction. But where there once stood a place of hope in the wilderness, there now stands little more than desolation. I have put forth my best efforts helping those in need, but by now I truly believe those who remain have made a conscious choice to do so. It saddens me a bit, as I'm not sure whether it's out of fear, a false sense of comfort, or perhaps just having given up on themselves. Or, perhaps they're just too broken to let the light in. And if that's the case, there comes a point when you need to accept that you've done all you can do - that if someone isn't willing to help themselves, you can't force it.

Today, just like every day from the moment this journey started, I woke up and knew I had a choice. And just like I've been doing every day since the first, I chose love.

But a big (albeit difficult) part of love is knowing when it's time to let go.

To those who have shared the journey with me, I thank you all for everything you've done and continue to do for the people of Tent City. To all those who have supported me on this journey, know that I am still dedicated to serving the poor and the needy, and that my leap of faith was not in vain.

To all those who, like me, are moving forward and "being the change," you know where to find me. Here's to what's waiting for us on the other side of the bridge.

Peace and love to you all!

:-) Lisa

Graduation Day

Over the course of these past few months working in Tent City, I had the tremendous fortune of encountering a student whose passion for helping the less fortunate knows no bounds.

Like thousands across the country and beyond this time of year, he is about to graduate and take the plunge into the so-called "real world." His experience - the dizzying sensation of stepping out of a four-year-old chrysalis and looking ahead into the great unknown - is both unique and universal. Although my own was almost twenty years ago to the day, its lessons and emotions are still vivid.

The first word that comes to mind when I think of my own college graduation? Trapped. Not optimistic, not hopeful, not any of that. Just, trapped. My father passed away when I was a freshman, and I'd bought a house with the inheritance money he'd left to me. Which meant I was tethered to the responsibilities it entailed. My mother already had a job lined up for me - as a receptionist at her friend's exterminating company. I knew I'd be moving back home, and I envied friends who would be spending their summer as they themselves chose: backpacking across Europe, lounging on the beach, delaying their foray into reality at their leisure.  I felt like after four years of being in complete control of my life (or at least believing I was), I was about to lose every ounce of independence I'd fought to gain. And for a while, I did. I got it back eventually, but it was not without a good deal of struggle.

But seeing this soon-to-be graduate, full of promise and faith, I'm confident he'll do well. He's one of those contagiously optimistic people you just know will succeed at whatever he puts his hand to.

Sometimes, though, when I hear him talk about it, I get the sense that even though he might not show it, there's a little bit of fear behind those childlike eyes. Just like anyone faced with a significant life change, he is still not completely certain about what's to come. He'll speak of dreams - heading cross-country with family, for example - or he'll say he's not worried. But the truth is, leaving the familiar behind - even when you know in your heart the future holds something better - can be scary. Especially when that entails relinquishing whatever independence you believe you have.

And even if you ARE ready to move forward, perhaps there are people in your inner circle who aren't. Who, because of their own insecurities and fear, will do everything in their power to keep you chained to the old ways of thinking and behaving. Who, like the subject of the Bruce Springsteen song "Glory Days" prefer to reside in the past.

Whether or not those people choose to follow you across the bridge, when the time comes, there will be plenty more people waiting with open hearts and open arms, to serve as guides and co-navigators, ready to reveal all the beautiful possibilities that await. I think of the words of Isaiah 43:18-19: "Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert."

Congratulations to him and all the "graduates" who stand at the proverbial bridge, ready to make their way to a new destiny. Let it begin. Amen.