Say What You See

The radical act of paying attention and bearing witness.

Drawing by Jane Opelt, used with permission

The house was unusually quiet that day. Our home is normally as chaotic and noisy as a house inhabited by small children ought to be, our hours pulled along by the perpetual ping-pong of play and snacks and sisterly squabbles.

But that particular day, my six-year-old daughter Jane had been hunched over our coffee table silently for a long time, pensively working with her crayons and colored pencils. When I asked what she was working on, she told me she was making a picture of our mountains to give to a friend at school.

Later that evening, my husband and I gave her work a closer look and we were amazed by some of the details of the drawing. I asked her why she had chosen to color the mountains in the distance blue. “Well, I noticed when I look at the mountains that are far away, they look kinda blue and purple.”

I also asked her about the bright yellow spot on the hillside. “Well, I noticed that sometimes, in the afternoon, the sun makes the fields and hills glow like that.”

Jane has never received any formal training in art, but she possesses the primary qualities that any great artist needs: the ability to notice the details…and the desire to create an honest visual account of what she has noticed. Her capacity for attention is that of a child’s…which some may say is erratic, but I would argue is unspoiled by cynicism or the loss of wonder. Her curiosity has not been compromised by hubris. I love that about her.

I’m happy that we live in a place where attentiveness is almost always rewarded with beauty: the shimmering rustle of the trees, the undulating flight patterns of blue-winged warblers and winter wrens, the curl of woodstove smoke rising from a chimney, the unending blue sea of mountain beyond mountain beyond mountain rolling out from your field of vision.

Of course, a close look at any landscape, and the people who dwell within it, will reveal scars and pain points. To notice these things requires a vision accompanied by compassion…care for your neighbor, interests in the wellbeing of a local ecosystem beyond your own body and breath.

I’ve worked really hard not to succumb to either triumphal or apocalyptic rhetoric about the state of American politics. I’ve attempted to be measured, well informed, slow to rush to judgement. I’ve endeavored not to consume or to offer hot takes (at least too many of them).

But the phrase that keeps coming to my mind…tugging at my spirit and nudging me out of bed in the mornings is this: Pay attention, Amanda. And say what you see.

It’s hard to pay attention. I’d rather pretend all my opinions are a foregone conclusion. I’d rather bury my head in the sand (or in my own echo chamber). I’d rather rest comfortably on what I assume is the moral high ground. I would rather bypass the patience, forbearance, humility, empathy, comprehension skills, and focus that being fully present in this moment requires of me. I’d rather give up. I’d rather draw a big red X on the page (as Jane sometimes does when she decides she’s tired of coloring or that she hasn’t gotten the picture quite right).

But I believe this particular moment in our nation’s history is calling us to recommit ourselves to the radical act (and subversive art) of bearing faithful witness. And I believe this is urgent.

Paying attention means that yes, we read about what’s going on in the world from trusted news sources and social media. But I believe the more sacred (and more difficult) task is to stay deeply attuned to how ongoing changes in policy are impacting our place…our families, our neighborhoods, our communities, our spheres of influence. You don’t always need a media outlet to interpret these things for you. Simply observe with your own eyes.

The particulars really matter in this moment, so pay close attention to them. What are you seeing transpire in your churches, your workplaces, your social groups, and your schools? What do you see being torn down, and what is being built up? Who do you see prospering, and who do you see struggling? Who is hurting and who is in need? Who is losing a job and who is gaining one? Moreover, what is the unique vantage point from which you see. How do these changes impact your particular vocation, your ministry, your environment, your area of expertise?

And then, we must say what we see. We must say it with clarity and courage. We must say it without exaggerating and without downplaying. We must tell the story of this season in both our national and local lives. Bearing witness by definition demands that you give an account of what has happened.

We can offer these accounts online…on social media. We must. But I’m less and less convinced that anyone’s mind is ever changed by an avatar or disembodied online post…no matter how eloquent or vehement that post is.

Rather, people will engage with presence…with friends and acquaintances humbly and respectfully sharing their account of what they’ve witnessed.

This is the work ahead of us. Say what you see to your friends, to your neighbors. Say what you see over a meal with a fellow church member, a colleague, a former co-worker. Say what you see to your fellow mom-friend while on the playdate. Say what you see at the family reunion or on your weekly call with a parent or sibling. Say what you see to your local newspapers and city councils.

As a nation and as neighborhoods, we must actually talk to one another about how we are feeling and what we are discerning. Say what you see because silence is the soil in which apathy grows. And our communities simply cannot afford our apathy right now.

I know these conversations can be scary. We live in a world that is so polarized, even a simple observation can be perceived as an aggressive political statement. But in the words of Miss Mary (the 90-something-year-old mountaineer sage who lived down the road from us when we first moved to Boone). “Just be kind and try to be honest….and you’ll get along in life.”

I hope when I look back on this time that I’ll be able to say I showed up with my attention fully engaged. That I didn’t give up or despair or dig in too deeply to my own opinions. I hope I’ll be able to say I was clear-eyed and observant, present and active. Honest. Kind. I hope I can tell my kids that I was a witness…that I said what I saw.

Jane’s attention and her eye for the details is serving as my inspiration today. She did indeed give that drawing to her friend, though I was rather disappointed she didn’t let me keep it. It’s ok. She wanted to show her friend what she had seen when she looked out at the mountains. And I’ll never stop her from doing that.

AND NOW FOR SOME PROVISIONS, AND FRIENDS, WORLD RELIEF NEEDS SOME SERIOUS PROVISIONS RIGHT NOW! WILL YOU HELP?

You may have heard about the recent policy change from the new administration that ended a decades long refugee resettlement program for vulnerable people fleeing terrorism, ethnic violence, and religious persecution. Not only is this resettlement program on pause, but families who were already legally granted refuge and brought to the United States have now lost all federal assistance to help with relocation, effectively leaving them stranded and in some cases without food, housing, or job-hunting assistance.

World Relief is an incredible organization that has traditionally helped new refugee arrivals adjust to life in America (in addition to some incredible development programs they conduct around the world!) Much of their funding was from the federal government, and now they need us to stand in the gap and help them assist the hundreds of recent arrivals simply get settled in safely to their new communities.

My church partners with World Relief. I have friends who work there. They are legit - incredible work ethic, organizational ethos, etc. You can learn more AND GIVE by visiting their website.

For some musical provisions…There are two songs about seeing that I like to listen to when life feels blurry.

The first is The Valley of Vision by Tenielle Neda:

“Lord high and holy
Lord meek and lowly
You have brought me to the valley of vision
Where I live in the depths
But see You in the heights.”

The other is The Lost Words Blessing by Spell Songs

“Look to the sky with care, my love
And speak the things you see
Let new names take and root and thrive and grow
And even as you journey on past dying stars exploding
Like the gilded one in flight, leave your little gifts of light
And in the dead of night, my darling
Find the gleaming eye of starling
Like the little aviator, sing your heart to all dark matter.”

And finally, I wanted to share about some upcoming events I’ll be speaking or singing at...come hang out with us! I’d love to see you out on the road!

Inkwell Night of Arts and Ideas

Saturday, February 22nd - 6:45pm

at Gordon Conwell Theological Seminary, Charlotte

(Inkwell is a faith informed literary and artistic community associated with Christianity Today and Ekstasis Magazine. Come for a night of food, music, and essays from folks like John Mark McMillan, Sho Baraka, and many more!)

The Breath and the Clay Conference

Friday, March 21st - Sunday March 23rd

Winston Salem, North Carolina

(This gathering of artists, dancers, poets, and musicians is one of my favorite weekends of the year! We’ll be hearing from folks like Cheryl Bridges Johns, Amanda Cook, Dr. Elissa Yukiko, and so many other fabulous artisans. My experience last year reminded me that there is always so much excellence, ingenuity, and wonderful weirdness in the world of faith informed arts. Join us!)

HopeWords Writer’s Conference

Friday, April 4th - Saturday, April 5th

Bluefield, West Virginia

(HopeWords holds a very special place in my heart. Hosted in the heart of Appalachia, this conference brings together writers from across various genres and traditions of the faith. Humble, approachable, practical…this conference honestly feels like a warm hug every single year…I leave feeling inspired to SAY WHAT I SEE and be attentive to the details of what God is doing in my life).