1. I recently posted a blog about the South, toting its positive attributes. I received a lot of feedback, mostly positive. One comment, though, really stuck with me. I kept going back to it in my head, not because it angered me, but rather it saddened me. It spoke of Southern churches negatively, and stated the ones the writer had encountered were void of the Holy Spirit. Ouch. I got to thinking about that, and I came to a conclusion folks. We have done this to ourselves. I’m sorry to say, but we alone are responsible for the bad reputation Southern Christianity has acquired. Only we could be responsible for taking a well-meaning phrase like, “Bless her heart,” and turn it into an insult. I even used it in my blog that day! I would like to convince you all that I truly wished blessed hearts on everyone, but that will not change the negative connotations that have come to follow the phrase. As I pondered on the mess we have created of Southern hospitality and Christianity, I was reminded of Olympia Dukakis in Steel Magnolias. In one scene she comments:

“Well you know what they say, if you don’t have anything nice to say about anybody, come sit by me.”

I always got a good laugh out of that scene as I’m sure most of you do too. But when you really think about it, is that the personality you want to portray?

1. When I became a Christian my life changed. It didn’t happen overnight, but slowly God began to change my character, and convince me to treat others in a way that He could be proud of, and in a manner that was reflective of Christ. I think we miss the mark on that a lot. I know I do. I’m guilty of looking at someone by outward appearance and making a snap judgement. I try not to, but I slip. We all do. The problem is we’ve been slipping way too much. This may make you angry. This may convict you. I don’t know. What I do know is that it has to stop. We are ruining our family name. When I say our family name I mean so much more than a simple surname bestowed upon us here on this earth. My maiden name is Graves. I love my family, and I love where I came from, but I’m here to tell you that my last name doesn’t mean a thing. It doesn’t define who I am or who I will become. That’s a big problem in our geographical region, the South, and it’s one reason we are so judgmental and hypocritical of our brothers and sisters in Christ. We look at something as silly as a name and think that defines who someone is. It doesn’t. My name doesn’t define me. What defines me is my adoption into the family of God. When I dedicated my life to Jesus I became reborn, and I got a new name. People forget that, and instead focus on who someone’s earthly daddy might be and where he works, rather than rejoicing that y’all have the same Heavenly Father. Or perhaps we look at outward appearance. “I can’t believe she wore that to church?!” If you are focusing too much time on the outfit you are clothing your outward body with then you are wrong! The focus should be how you clothe your spirit. We should desire this:
   Proverbs 31:
   25 She is clothed with strength and dignity,
   and she laughs without fear of the future.
   26 When she speaks, her words are wise,
   and she gives instructions with kindness.
   27 She carefully watches everything in her household
   and suffers nothing from laziness.
   28 Her children stand and bless her.
   Her husband praises her:
   29 “There are many virtuous and capable women in the world,
   but you surpass them all!”
   30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty does not last;
   but a woman who fears the Lord will be greatly praised.
   31 Reward her for all she has done.
   Let her deeds publicly declare her praise.

2. It seems that the way we have decided to look at others, judge others, treat others, that this behavior is hindering our walk with God. It is also sabotaging our relationships with others. Sadly, it is chasing people from the church. It is giving us a reputation of a bigoted congregation, an empty building where God does not dwell. I hope that breaks your heart as it does mine. Love. This is what we need. This is what God asks of us. He asks us to love one another. We when are unable to follow this one simple command, He cannot live in us. When the hate, envy, and spite is taking up too much room, He is unable to set up residence. The devil seeks to destroy the church of God, and we are making it easy for him. We are allowing him into the house of God through our hearts, our hearts set on judging others. Lost souls seeking Christ’s love will not find it by way of our squinted eyes and pointing fingers. We have to lay that down. We have to lay down our petty ideals at the alter, clean the spaces of our hearts of all the trifling gossip, and make room for Jesus’s love, make our hearts a dwelling place for His spirit so that His light will shine from us and beckon the lost, the hungry, in essence our brothers and sisters, to join us in God’s house to celebrate His goodness. We have built an awful reputation for ourselves, and it’s going to take a lot of work to change things, but we have to do it. We need to do it. Let’s start now!
   That is all 🙂

1. I can remember when I received my first blatant comment concerning my Southern heritage, and I recall the surprise and hurt that came with it. From the moment I was hustled off the bus to be processed into my new life in the military, it would start. I saw the amused expressions when people heard my accent, or even the audible snicker when I answered their question and they repeated back, “Mississippi, huh?” I would quickly grow tired of people asking me to repeat myself simply so they could derive pleasure from my pronunciation, and I would especially dread the repeated question from everyone I encountered, “Where are you from?!” In bootcamp I easily managed to nail down the highest scholastic scores of not just my company, but every single one on base. This score earned me the reward of extra minutes to call home, a Letter of Commendation, and my mom a special seat next to the Commanding Officer at my graduation. (I may be bragging a little, but it all goes along with the story at hand.) All the different award winners were recognized at our pass and review (graduation) by marching in a separate formation. At practice for this ceremony, I was confronted by a superior. He asked the question that I had become so accustomed to, “Where are you from?!” (I seriously put the exclamation point because that was how people asked it.) Then he asked what award I had received. When I answered, he commented with, “I didn’t realize they made smart people in Mississippi!”
2. His comment was simply the beginning of many I would receive over the years I spent away from the South. I became accustomed to reverse racism and snap judgements made at face value, all which assumed I was an ignorant bigot. It was assumed that since my speech was slow that I also had a mental delay. I was also branded a racist, intolerant of any and all minorities. I had always been careful to articulate my words. This was something my mother had taught me from a young age, explaining to me that a southern drawl sounded ignorant. (Y’all forgive her. She was a Yankee at the time and didn’t know better.) We had arrived down south from California and she was not very keen on our surroundings. We expected to stay briefly, get back on our feet, and return to bigger cities, far away as soon as we were able. Something strange happened though. The warmth of the South, both in weather and the hearts of the people there, drew us in to its charm. She would grow to love it, and be unable to leave even if she wanted. We became Southerners. Still, she tried to instill speaking properly to me, to help prevent future assumptions of ignorance. All her instruction was for naught it seems, for once I found myself up north, my articulation and purposeful pronunciation only served to draw more attention to my Southern accent. I’m surprised I didn’t try wearing a banner that read, “I have a 4.0 and my best friend is black.” I was that desperate to be seen for more than my Southern roots, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, regardless of what I did.
3. I realized that people would see me as they wished. If you want to see the majority’s opinion of the South simply turn on a major news network and watch their stories from Mississippi or Alabama, complete with on-the-scene interviews. They could interview ten people, but will choose the one individual with the slowest speech and thickest accent who says the most inappropriate thing. They do this because it fits into their stereotype. (I’ve come to discover, though, that stupid and hateful is everywhere, not simply one region.) When I moved back home to Mississippi I realized something profound. I realized that I was fine with that. It was okay if they saw me as slow and insignificant. I realized I could smile sweetly while they underestimated me for I knew the truth. I had been around the world and I had seen it. I had seen that while we are stereotyped as the most hateful people, intolerant of differences, that we are truly the most loving. I had experienced a break-down on the side of the road in both places, and I knew down south is where ten people would stop and offer to help. When you sneeze in Mississippi, people will say “God bless you,” and they’ll offer you their last tissue. Your neighbor will be late for work to watch and make sure your kid gets home from the bus stop safely. People in town may know all your personal business, but nine out of those ten will pray for you rather than simply gossip. If you need a ride, or a baby sitter, or a hand moving an old refrigerator, it will be easily found. It may be called the Bible Belt, but I reckon that’s okay with me. I don’t mind being surrounded by God fearing folks. It’s where I know I can raise my children safely, and not be afraid. If God brings revival to our Country, I think it will originate from the South. Don’t you? I don’t try to hide my accent anymore. I wear it proudly, savoring its sweetness like a glass of ice cold tea (sweet of course). I’m not ashamed of where I’m from, but proud that God thought enough of me to place me here. If you’re thinking about going up North, well, go on. We’ll be waiting for you when you come back. If you’re a Northerner, and you’re tired of all the fuss, come on down, but don’t underestimate us. We’ll accept you as our own. After all, you chose to come to Heaven on earth.
   That is all 🙂