My brother and I visited the Civil Rights Museum while in Memphis for Thanksgiving.  The museum is housed in the Lorraine Motel, the site of the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr.  Through a creative design the motel was built-out leading through a time-lined display of memorabilia and story; starting from the beginning of slavery and ending at MLK’s hotel room looking out over the balcony where he was assassinated.

The museum is full of massive amounts of boards and papers to read with wonderful pithy statements full of courage and deep observation of the character of man.  It was amazing how organized and documented activists were.  There were rules on how to behave when arrested, how to protect yourself against attack, how to wear your clothes, and organization of who was able to speak during rallies and protests.

I was most moved by the youth of the time.  I’ve sat through American History my entire life learning of civil liberties and the fights it took to get where we are now.  I can’t remember not knowing what Brown v Board of Education was, always familiar with images from Little Rock Central High School; students being escorted through mobs of angry protestors by the National Guard.  A majority of the Civil Rights Movement and breaking segregation through Separate but Equal were acted out and bravely fought by kids younger than I am today.  What courage they had to stand for justice.

Yesterday, I went to visit a man I know who is counting down days this week until he will have surgery for total heart replacement; after this surgery he will wait until a transplant comes available.  I know this man does not believe in Jesus.  I had planned to send him a card but the more I thought about it, the more I knew I had to go and actually tell this man who Jesus was.  I saw him hanging over a grand precipice and I had to at least hold my hand out to him.  I was a nervous wreck yesterday, I was so nervous to go see him, I didn’t want this man to be bogged down with religious dialogue I just wanted him to know he was loved and Jesus was for him.

I think there are times in our faith when our mandate and calling is terrifying to us.  It feels uncomfortable and nerve racking, but people are dying and many injustices are still happening.  How many times do we look at a situation, hear a story, and do nothing but shake our heads?  I learned yesterday it takes courage to build courage.  It’s putting one foot in front of the other even if you are chewing a hole in your lip out of nerves while doing it.  I wonder where we would be had a generation of young people been too afraid to go to school?

Courage is nestled in the everyday: going to school, visiting a sick person, telling people the truth.  You build courage by being courageous, taking chances and seeing what happens.

I know I’m not a kid wading my way through an angry hate-spitting mob, but getting up the nerve to be courageous and bold is still a feat within itself.  This is the power of the everyday, when we decide to do something scary and go step outside our comfort to stand for something we believe in.