The Power of Love

I have had the privilege of living enough years on this earth that I have seen how the power of love can transform hearts. I began to have a deeper understanding of God’s love for me when I looked into the eyes of my newborn sons the minute each of them were born. I was smitten by their beauty and the perfection of their creation. I believe God looks at us that way. He loves and cherishes us and desires for us to extend that to each other.

For most of us, loving our family and friends is easy. There is a history we’ve shared. Life with them is familiar. We know their stories and they know ours. 

But, there are many people out there that we do not know and actually resist getting to know. How do we love and cherish othersthat are different from us?We love others by listening to their stories. It is in the depths of transparency that an amazing exchange happens. As we listen and share life with another person, the voice of love is heard, “your life matters to me.” 

This season, take time to listen to someone’s story. You may be surprised by what you learn.

Blessings,

Carol Marchant Gibbs

#Storieschanginglives #whodoyousayiambook

Into the Wilderness

Into the Wilderness

I go into the wilderness… 

My spirit tries to flee the darkness but cannot. 

I am paralyzed by the fear that surrounds me. 

Silence hangs like a shroud and I am overwhelmed by its weight.

“Deliver me”, I pray. “Show me the way. I am lost.” 

Then, Your voice pierces the darkness of my soul. “Remember.” 

I struggle to comprehend your words and You repeat,  “Remember.”

You take me by the hand and lead me forward, whispering, “I Am here.” 

The shroud begins to rise and light illuminates my world. I begin to see more clearly each color increasingly more vivid than before. 

Your words ring in my ears, “Remember… you are mine.”

Carol Marchant Gibbs (March 2019)

The season of Lent begins on Ash Wednesday and lasts through Easter, representing forty days that Jesus spent in the wilderness being tempted by the devil, at the beginning of His ministry. (Luke 4:1-13)

In the bible, the word “wilderness” is used to describe a place for intense experiences; a need for food and water, of isolation, of danger and divine deliverance, of renewal and deep encounters with God.

Jesus encountered many wilderness experiences:

*In the wilderness He was tempted by the devil for 40 days.
*His job of faith required that He be constantly traveling. Food and shelter were a daily need.
*People were often challenged by what He had to say and some resented that He professed to be the Son of God. So, there were many attempts on His life.
*And then… the cross.

And, just like Jesus, we, too, will experience the wilderness some time in our lives… as much as we try to avoid it. It may be in the form of mourning the loss of a loved one, or a job, or the rigors of caring for an family member, or a general disappointment in the direction of life. God goes with us into the difficult times of life. He reminds us of our identity in Him… His love and faithfulness… His power and authority. In the wilderness place, we are prepared for anything that comes into our lives.

Jesus was led by the Spirit into and out of the wilderness, but there are many people today who live in a “wilderness” state because circumstances of life have placed them there. They are the marginalized… people who have been judged because they differ in their skin color, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, religion and yes, even people with disabilities. They are those who have been hurt by the lies of this world that question their identity and worth. Though they desire to be known, they live in isolation because of fear or an inability to communicate who they are. They are children of God.

This Lenten season, offer to God what He deeply desires. Pause from the busyness of  life to respond to His invitation…whatever it is. God may be inviting you into a new adventure… a new relationship. He may calling you to enter someone else’s world to bring His kindness and encouragement. Explore the possibilities with Him. God has plans for each of us and we can trust in His love. Rememberwe are His.

Stories Changing Lives


The Legacy

     Between 1890 and 1924, America experienced one of the greatest influx of immigrants to this country. Millions of people, many fleeing hardship, came with hope of a better future. America quickly became known as a “Melting Pot” of many nations. (A term coined by an immigrant, Israel Zangwill)

     People quickly changed their names as they walked through the gates of Ellis Island and other ports, fully embracing their new identity and exciting future. All people were considered Americans and everyone wanted to learn what it meant to be so. My grandparents were included in this population of immigrants.

     My grandmother was only three years old when she arrived here with her family from Sicily. Most of her memories were made here, very few remained of her home in Italy. They came because the financial situation in their little fishing village had become bleak. America offered the hope of a new life.

     My grandfather came much later. He was 17 years old when he boarded a boat to America. He was fleeing similar circumstances. Poverty cast a shadow over his village, and organized crime attempted to offer a better life there. My grandfather refused to succumb to that lifestyle and came alone to a country he knew nothing about. He did not speak the language but arrived with a piece of paper in his pocket, having the name and contact information of his closest relative here.

     When he arrived at Ellis Island, he too altered the name he was given to become more “American”. He quickly located family, got a job, and enrolled in English classes.

     My grandfather was never allowed the privilege of going to school in Italy. At a young age, he would help to work the family farm to make ends meet. So the fact that he became so proficient at learning the English language that he would substitute for the instructor on occasion was quite extraordinary. He was very proud of this accomplishment.

     When my grandparents met up again in America, they fell in love, married and began their life together. Connecting with relatives between New York and Baltimore and in search of employment that would support a family of four children, my grandparents traveled some before settling in Baltimore.

     This is where my story begins. My parents met here, fell in love, and raised a family of five children. 

     I’ve often thought about my grandparents and where I would be if they were unable to immigrate to America. Would I even exist? 

     When I think about our present state as a country, it saddens me to see that the “melting pot” that use to be a symbol for our all-embracing nation has become a boiling cauldron of intolerance, promoting a society divided by race, religion, nationality, and gender identity, resulting in blatant persecution of those who are different. The words “and justice for all” appear to becoming less of a reality.

     How do we respond as we experience one of the greatest influx of immigrants in the history of the United States?

     Compassion develops when we begin to know someone. Hearts and attitudes change when we hear someone’s personal story and get a clearer picture of their life.

     Where does your story begin? Are you the child or grandchild of an immigrant? How would your life be different if your family was unable to come to this country? 

“… I was a stranger and you invited me in.”Matthew 25:35

Stories changing lives!

Martin Luther King

     The Reverend Martin Luther King was one of the most influential civil rights activists in history.

     Born in Atlanta in 1929, he became a Baptist minister, incorporating Christian beliefs and the non-violent nature of Ghandi in his teachings. 

     In 1954,  he became actively involved in the civil rights movement, striving to put an end to racism and segregation through non-violent means.

     I was young when he was struckdown on April 4, 1968 in Memphis Tennessee by James Earl Ray but I remember the riots that resulted from his death and was afraid. I lived well outside of the city but have talked to those who were a witness to the violence that occurred. Below is an excerpt from an earlier post. 

  “I grew up in Baltimore city during the civil rights movement (1954-1968). As a child, I never sensed there was a ‘movement’ of any kind going on. I was blessed that way, I guess…

    I vividly remember the night of Dr. King’s assassination. My sister and I were spending the night with my grandmother. My grandmother lived on a very busy street. I would take great delight in seeing the shadows from the headlights of the cars make funny shapes through the blinds on the walls of her house. That night, there were no dancing lights streaming through the closed venetian blinds as I happily played. What was going on, I wondered?  I remember going to the window, peeking through the blinds and was horrified by what I saw! There were army tanks and soldiers with long rifles riding up and down the middle of the streets patrolling them and the behavior of the residents. There were no cars coming or going about their business anymore. My grandmother said there was a curfew in place because people were rioting after learning of Dr. King’s death. Rioting? I didn’t know what that was. I was blessed that way, I guess. I remember being so afraid and wanting to go home but there was no way out. We were supposed to go home the following morning but were forbidden to leave because of the curfew.  People were being arrested for breaking the curfew. We had to stay put for several days. I was ten years old. ” 

  I would love to be able to say that we have moved well beyond this injustice today but I don’t believe that is true. In some ways we have, but in other ways, we have gotten far worse. Why do we continue to divide people into groups according to race, nationality, sexual orientation, religion… and so on and so on? For what purpose?  

  It is my prayer that we will one day live out the the words of Martin Luther King, Jr.:

“Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood.”

“I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed – we hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal.”

“Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God’s children.”

God bless you all,

Carol

A New Year of Joy

  Happy New Year!! What a beautifully full season this has been. I hope that you are feeling exceptionally blessed and that 2019 is like no other. 

Christian Fellowship Conference

My husband and I spent the weekend at the Q Christian Fellowship Conference in Chicago. 1,250+ people from the LGBTQ Community gathered from across the nation and other countries to worship and encourage each other in their faith. Affirming seminaries and other organizations were present to deliver a voice of invitation. Parents came to learn more and support their adult kids. Love filled this place. I had the privilege of hearing one story after another. Laughter and tears flowed freely. It was a sacred moment. 

If you ask if Jesus was here… He was…in an amazing way. He poured his love out all over this conference and you couldn’t miss the power of His presence…the joy. It was a privilege to behold. 

As I look forward to this new year, my thoughts venture to my new book and the privilege of hearing more stories. It is my hope that as we enter into people’s lives, we would gain a new perspective, and our presumed differences would dissolve before our eyes. 

May you experience the fullness of God’s love this year!!

Blessings,

Carol


Encouraging Others Through the Season

     During this season, I look forward to the Advent devotional provided by Biola University. It is a collection of daily encouraging messages that beautifully depict Jesus through the arts.

     A few days ago, I was struck by the life and writing of  the poet Vassar Miller, mentioned in the devotional. Miller’s lifelong struggle with cerebral palsy made every physical task difficult. She began writing when she was a child, using a typewriter because her crippling disease profoundly affected her. Much of her work explored religious themes but she also wrote about the difficulties of living with cerebral palsy and the isolation she experienced. It was surprising to me how such a successful woman could feel so isolated. The beauty of her poem shared in the devotional touched me so deeply that I wanted to share it with you.


Invitation
by Vassar Miller

Here is the land where children
Feel snows that never freeze,
Where a star’s the reflection
Of a baby’s eyes.

Where both wise men and shepherds
Measure all Heaven no smaller
Nor larger than He is
And judge a lamb is taller,

Where old and cold for proof
Would take a stone apart,
Who find a wisp of hay
Less heavy on the heart

Come near the cradle where
The Light on hay reposes,
Where hands may touch the Word
This winter warm with roses.

     There are many people who experience isolation during the holidays. The reasons are numerous but the feeling of living outside of community for whatever reason is filled with pain. Do you know someone whose life circumstances may be causing them to feel isolated? What can you do to encourage someone during this very special season?

Stories changing lives.

Christmas blessings!!

Love Like Your Lives Depended on It


     This is my favorite time of year. Despite the cold nip in the air, and the hustle and bustle, it’s a special time to think about those we love and design creative ways to express that love. 

      I am a gift giver so finding the perfect gift is important to me. I spend hours thinking about each person I love and what gift might best express that. I often solicit gift ideas from others and am grateful for their input but I am profoundly thankful to my daughter-in-law who in recognition of my “perfect gift” mentality, whole-heartedly supports my efforts. Now, she would tell you that she is not a gift giver, but I have witnessed a thoughtful precision in her choosing of gifts that results in each person feeling valued and very loved. Though she is a wife, and mother of four, and has to take into account Santa’s role in the mix, she always offers me the very best of her gift ideas. This is love for me. 

     It reminds me of a passage I was reading in the book of I Peter. I was captured by the words in chapter 1; “…love like your lives depended on it.” I don’t read The Message version of the Bible very often but it inspires many thoughts that other versions do not. This passage made me ask myself, how do we “love like our lives depended on it”? I have pondered this for a long time and am still trying to fully understand it but I do know one thing…Love may require us to go to extreme measures to express it and everyone needs to experience this type of love.   

      Because we are all unique, the giving and receiving of love can look different for each person. Love can find its expression in many ways. Gary Chapman, the author of The 5 Love Languages, illustrates how people receive love differently. Written originally for couples, he describes five ways that people communicate love: Words of affirmation, Gifts, Acts of Service, Quality time, and Physical touch.

     It is important to know how the people in our lives receive love. If you are buying expensive gifts for someone and their love language is “acts of service”, you may want to invest in a rake and help them rake the leaves in their yard instead. Remembering another person in a special way can be a wonderful thing but knowing them well enough to respond in a way that they feel loved is powerful. 

     Sometimes our giving of love is to a perfect stranger because our hearts have been touched by their lives. This is also a powerful expression of love that says to a person that someone sees them and they really matter.

     The NIV version of the same verse says, “…love one another deeply from the heart.” Whichever version you read, loving others is always the answer.

     Lives may not be dependent on my daughter-in-law’s providing of gift ideas but her response to me expresses a deep love that words do not and I am so very thankful.

     Tis the season to love extravagantly…“like your lives depended on it.” What could be more loving than the God of the universe humbly coming to earth in the form of a baby just so we could experience His love first hand? 

May you experience the fullness of giving and receiving love this season. 

Christmas blessings!!

Henry

 

Henry’s love of film started when he was very young. When it became time for him to commit himself to his passion, he came to America to pursue a master’s in film. His films are an outward expression of the deepest part of him. They speak about his life experience—his childhood memories, the influences of his Asian culture, and his greatest fears.

Henry’s Story

     I do not have many happy memories of my childhood. Our family was very poor when I was young. I was an only child in a very conservative family in a small city in Asia. My relationship with my parents was polite. The culture is much more reserved, so I never remember having any physical affection, hugs or kisses, never an “I love you.” This, too, is very cultural so it was never something that I missed. My parents did hold my hand as a young child to keep me safe. Safety is primary in my culture.

     Because of the sense of lack in our city, there was no sense of community. There was a pervasive fear that someone would take the little that you had. That meant that there were no community gatherings, opportunities for team sports, or any type of group activities for children. Everyone kept to themselves. I engaged in solitary activities and learned to play the violin and piano and learned to paint.

     One of the benefits of employment in my city was that the employer is responsible for providing a place for all employees to live. We lived in a small apartment provided by my mother’s job. When the building was torn down, we moved to a community of homes built around a courtyard but there was still no connection with the neighbors.

     I was raised in an area of Asia where religion was not as present as it is in America. Most people in my area were atheist. I learned later to have faith in my art, myself, and my dream as an artist and filmmaker.

     My parents always valued higher education. I remember my father going to America to pursue his PhD degree when I was six years old. It was a big deal to go to study there and I knew of no other parents that did that. He was gone for three years though it felt like six or seven to me. After he left for America, it was just me and my mother, so she had the most influence in my life.

     My father’s absence caused me to start to feel isolated for the first time. I have a vivid memory of my mother deciding that she needed to go to shopping with her friend one afternoon instead of hanging out with me. I remember running after her bike in hope that she would not go. It’s funny to think about it now because I cannot recall at all the moment she left Asia to join my father in America for a year, but I could remember the afternoon she went shopping without me.

     After my mother left, I lived with my paternal grandparents. They were elderly and focused on keeping me safe during this time. I had a few friends but rarely played with them. Most of my time was spent with my grandparents. My memories of childhood at this age were very practical ones. How much homework did I need to do? What did I need to learn? I felt isolated and alone most of the time. I don’t remember too much sadness, it was just life.

     My first impression of America was when my parents returned. They came bearing gifts. I couldn’t wait to open the salmon from the “deep ocean.” This was a big deal. My parents wanted to have a gathering of their relatives to share the salmon from the “deep ocean” and to celebrate their return so I was forced to wait. I will never forget my disappointment when the fish was finally served. It tasted horrible. The “liquid chocolate” (chocolate syrup) was strange and new but much tastier. This started my fantasy about America.

     Adolescence became very challenging for me. When I entered middle school, I started to experience same-sex attraction. Gay jokes were always somewhat popular in Asia, as a way to emasculate and de-humanize a man. This made me feel very uncomfortable. I remember thinking that one student was very handsome. I guess that probably was my first awakening of my sexual orientation. I never talked with that person, so nothing more happened. It was not until much later that I began to understand what I was experiencing.

     The saving grace of this time was that my dream of becoming a filmmaker began to take root in my heart. It gave me hope for my future. I watched and collected as many movies as possible. I started reading film magazines that spoke about many of the films from America. This had a major impact on me and out of that developed a desire to go west.

     But the older I got (as much as I tried to hide it), my authentic-self began to emerge, and people noticed me. Discrimination was everywhere. In high school, there was a bully who would wait outside of my class every day just so he could call me “freak” in front of everyone. I guess he sensed that I was “different.” I was so afraid, I never had the courage to even look in his eyes to know what he looked like. Going to school every day was terrifying for me.

     The concept of being an Asian gay man in our homophobic and conservative small city was very difficult. First, I really didn’t totally understand it myself and there was no one I could talk to about it. The little information I did have of the homosexual life, I found on the internet. I remember feeling like a “freak” and a “second class person” growing up. I lived in constant fear and hid who I was.

     The increased academic pressure in high school helped to divert some of the attention from me. High school is all about preparing for the SAT. If you are successful in high school, you are set for life. Everything is taught with this test in mind. There was no room for creativity…only book knowledge (film was not part of the curriculum). The school system set the goals for each person’s life. Students were required to choose one of two tracks: science (which included biology, physics and chemistry) and literature (which included history, politics, and geology). Everyone learned English, math, and our native language. In my culture, the score on the SAT is a major life event. It determines your future success.

     Because I am an only child, my parents had very severe expectations for me. They had their own ideas for the person they wanted me to become. My parents wanted me to be a scientist or doctor since they are both in the field of science. My father is a biologist and my mother a nurse. I chose the science route to appease them and completed my high school years successfully.

     My passion to be a filmmaker continued to grow so when it came time to choose a college, I chose one that had a directing major. My parents thought I was joking when I informed them of my decision. When they realized that I was serious they became angry and started to pressure me to choose a different course of study. I insisted and began a hunger strike to convince them. They decided that they would take me to see an artist in a large city in Asia in hopes that he would change my mind. He informed me that I didn’t have sufficient talent to be successful in the directing major and that I should listen to my parents. I stood firm and went forward with my choice, developing in my greatest passion…film.

     While in college, I developed a close relationship with a Frenchman who was doing an exchange study in economics in the city where I was attending college. He was introduced to me by one of my good friends. I had never met a gay person before. He told me about his life as a gay man and the struggles he had encountered—not being accepted by others and not accepting himself. It was something I never had the opportunity to talk about with anyone before. We hung out together for about three months, going to dinner, traveling, and going to parties. We partied a lot. I was very attracted to him, related to him deeply, and I started to build a fantasy around how “we needed to be together to save each other.” We had some very deep conversations, so he knew of the fantasy that I projected on him. However, he was a very reserved and troubled person, so we never got together. If he did not want to be reached, he would just disappear. It hurt me deeply because I felt humiliated after offering myself to someone completely, then getting rejected. I have grown considerably from that experience. I understand that most of my “savior” complex is not much related to that person himself but to the social, racial, and life history of my formation. I cannot escape it. It took me years to understand that I do not need him or anyone to “save” me. We have remained friends and talk every six months. It is a weird relationship and he understands he has power over me. I understand that also. It’s quite poisonous for me but I am curious to see what is next. I went to Paris to see him again two years after he left Asia.

     After completing my college degree in Asia in directing, I came to America to complete a master’s in film and make movies. The inspiration of my films continues to be from my own personal experiences. One of my first films is about a gay man who has had a one-night stand and the loss he feels afterwards. This film has deeply touched hearts and has been played at film festivals all around the world. Slowly, I am being recognized as an artist and filmmaker. This was all I ever wanted…to live that dream.

     It wasn’t until I came to America that I started to understand another layer of my identity. It was a mind-blowing experience for me to jump from the most conservative culture right into the most liberal of environments. Then slowly, I started to understand that the problems I have had within myself were from growing up in an environment that is hostile toward who I am. I would not and could not say I have become a new person since I came to America, but on some level my education has given me a way to see the world, myself, and to express my voice. The geographical change, from a small city in Asia to America, was my chance to move into a “new life.” But, of course, life is a long journey to slowly understand and create myself.

     I was twenty-two when I first told someone that I was gay. It was one of my classmates. It was not much of a decision. I basically thought, okay this is my new life, and this is what I am going to do.It was not planned, and I cannot remember what I said. I didn’t have a big moment or feeling after telling the person. I really think many people had just figured it out about me. It was a gradual process for me to agree with them. I didn’t really need to tell a lot of people.

     I still have not come out to my family, yet. I don’t think my parents would understand me at all. I believe it would be the end of our relationship. I have no friends or relatives in Asia that are gay.No one would even talk about it there.

     I have never really dated anyone before. I have very high expectations about what a loving relationship should be. Part of this, I believe, is because of my lack of experience. My concept of love is naive and in some ways like Disney fantasies in their “prince and princess” movies. Hopefully my expectation is not too unrealistically high. Over the years, I am beginning to understand myself slightly better. I think I would prefer to wait for a relationship that is mutual…where we both deserve each other.

     I do have many supportive friends here in America. One of the biggest influences in my life has been my mentor. She has helped me to find my voice autobiographically as a filmmaker. It has given me faith in my art, myself, and my dream as an artist and filmmaker.

     I have learned a few lessons over the years. The first lesson has been to accept myself as a gay man. The second is to accept myself as an Asian gay man. To understand the American freedom and gay culture is difficult. Freedom is not only limited by sexual orientation but also racism. It is important for me to understand myself as I live in a society that doesn’t provide me with examples of people like me.

     I have no words of advice for others coming out. I am still working out the details of that myself. Give me another thirty years to come up with my first words of wisdom. It is my hope that my films will speak. If someone feels touched or feels that there are people in the world just like them because of my films, that’s great.I am just going to continue making my films andcreating my voice as an Asian LGBTQ artist filmmaker.

Henry has been in America making films for five years. His heartfelt movies are autobiographical in nature; an expression of his life as an Asian gay man. It is his hope to stay and continue his career.

Excerpt from Who Do You Say I Am? Personal Life Stories Told by the LGBTQ Community, by Carol Marchant Gibbs

Welcoming the Stranger

 

 

 

   There are “strangers” in our midst; people we are reluctant to know because they are different from us. Whether they have immigrated from another country or their families have lived here for centuries and they live next door, they are strangers because they are different. Rather than celebrating these differences, we hide behind a “wall” in this amazingly diverse world and they remain unknown.

     The wall is not a physical one but a construct in our hearts… with the sole purpose of “protecting” ourselves from the unknown. The barriers that prevent us from interacting with people are many; skin color, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, religion and yes, even people with disabilities. Anyone who is different must work much harder to be valued and respected because we live in a nation gripped by fear of the unknown.

     The church could be instrumental in deconstructing the wall, but instead, even many of those who profess that each person beautifully exhibits the unique characteristics of God, lives in fear and some people remain on the outside.

     How do we get past our fears to welcome the “stranger” in our midst? The bible offers several suggestions about engaging with the “stranger.” Here are just a few.

      In Matthew 25:35, Jesus says, “I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me.” 

      Then, in Hebrews 13:1, Paul says, “Let mutual love continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.” 

     And in Romans 12:13, he says, “Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers.” 

     The call is clear. We can no longer close our eyes to the injustice that surrounds us. No one is exempt from the responsibility of caring for their fellow man. As human beings, we are called to protect and care for those that God brings before us.

     Strangers are everywhere! May God make us keenly aware. May He open our eyes and strike our hearts with compassion so that we may respond with His kindness and love.

 

 

Stories Changing Lives