Washington in the the moonlight…and still more ways God saturates.

Washington trip highlights (Part 3)

It is pure joy to remember our trip and put the many thoughts and connections from my heart into this format. It is one of my favorite ways of making meaning.

Have you heard that phrase before, making meaning? (Meaning making” designates the process by which people interpret situations, events, objects, or discourses, in the light of their previous knowledge and experience. – Bruner, J. S. (1990). Acts of meaning. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.)

I believe that how we interpret, in light of our knowledge and experience, makes the difference between how one person and another who experience the same event, can see, feel and interpret it, entirely different from each another. Maybe I can explain it better with Washington DC as a breathtaking backdrop….

I left at this spot on the last post, we’d just finished with our Capitol and Holocaust tours. Our senses, hearts and minds were saturated with so many things (see previous post). We had just enough time take the Metro back, grab a sandwich at the condo, then get on a tour bus for an evening tour of the monuments.

I’ve always been a night-owl, relishing the stillness that happens as most are sleep. Some of my memories from growing up include staying up really late reading, cleaning, sorting, journaling or simply enjoying the quiet in my own room. I’ve always loved the moments in the Christmas season when we bundle up in the warm car, enveloped in the dark and look for twinkling light displays. And, legitimately, don’t even get me started on Walt Disney World at night. PURE MAGIC, at least to me. Needless to say, as we looked at tour options, I was most excited by the idea of “Washington at Dusk.” That said, our timing wasn’t great, as we had toured all day, all of us were tired, but oh my stars, it was SO worth it.

It started out a bit…bumpy, literally and figuratively. Our bus driver, (who we later learned was named, Tanisha), was skilled and fearless behind the wheel of our massive tour bus! The streets in Alexandria seemed ultra skinny and bumpy, but Tanisha was a pro (and fearless!) Though we had not known that our actual TOUR started in Washington DC and not as we boarded the bus at our condo, we were still so excited to see sights and the beauty of the city at night.

Our tour guide, Dre, was truly an unlimited fount of historical knowledge. He was so smart, so aware of many details of Washington and American history, that I could’ve listened to him much longer than our 4 hour tour.

Our first stop was the White House, which at least initially, left us still wondering about the quality this tour. About 20 of us hopped off the bus, crossed a big open field and then – found ourselves staring at the historic White House, lit up against the inky black sky. Just breath-taking….

Dre shared some inside information about the United States’ most famous home. He took pictures for us, then we all began to trek back to the bus. I was humbled as my husband pushed me in my wheelchair across the thick green grass. As we got back on the bus, someone said in a soft voice, my husband is not here.” You could feel the buzz amongst those of us on the bus, some identifying with “losing someone,” others murmuring concern after the woman whispered, “my husband wanders off easily.” Dre literally, bounced off the bus, quickly looking for “Bob.” After what felt like a very long time, Dre returned with dear Bob and was visibly relived that he hadn’t lost a customer in the dusky evening. Dre made sure to keep this sweet couple with him at each of the next monument stops.

We visited the National Mall which included the Jefferson, Lincoln, Washington, Korean War, WWII, and Vietnam memorials, as well as the Capitol building. We were struck again and again by the history and beauty we were privileged enough to see. Each of the memorials were a wonder of resources, both natural and financial, design, honor, emotional heaviness and thoughtfulness. From the looks on chiseled, sand-blasted and sculpted faces, the placement of landscape, the meticulous detail and honor, built into every. single. model, monument and memorial was nothing short of miraculous. From the grandeur and design of monuments, the details and the way the former presidents gaze over the national mall…each was awe-inspiring. And as the night grew darker and later, the monuments themselves seemed to be sitting on hallowed, holy ground.

As we rode up the decades old elevator to find Abraham Lincoln gazing over the reflection pool, I couldn’t help but stare. I have always loved history. I sat in the wheelchair staring out at the reflecting pool, thinking of all the history that has taken place in this very spot. (Also, cue Forest Gump…)

I found myself staring around every corner for another view of the Washington Monument or feeling rooted to the ground as I stared at the names on the Vietnam War Memorial. Every detail meant to honor and bring remembrance; From the the dog tags, the detailed expressions on the immortalized veterans faces and the significance in every sculpture, I felt compelled to better understand our nations battles, sacrifice of every person serving and cultivate more gratitude. Even in the night, God himself was here, saturating our time, our knowledge, and our abilities to be grateful to every veteran who has fought for the freedoms we share in the US.

We finished with the Martin Luther King Jr. memorial. I think I still can’t comprehend it, weeks later. As the night seemed to fill in every space around us, we arrived just outside of the Martin Luther King monument area. There was immediately a sense of reverence, at least for me….

When our sweet oldest daughter came home from school her first grade year, she flew up our driveway, a colorful piece of paper flapping wildly in her hand. She had painstakingly colored it, even staying in for recess. (Not sure about the eyeshadow, nor is she, now that she is nearly 18.)

“Mama!” She bounded in the door, bursting with information (and her own depiction) about her “new hero,” Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. From that day on, she has held a very special spot in her head and heart for the well-known Civil Rights activist. He is “hers,” much like Mr. Rogers is “mine.”

We passed through the “rock of despair” once we arrived at the statue and I felt all the air escape from my lungs as we attempted to take it all in. The centerpiece for the memorial is based on a line from King’s “I Have A Dream” speech: “Out of the mountain of despair, a stone of hope.” A 30-foot high relief of King named the Stone of Hope stands past two other pieces of granite that symbolize the “mountain of despair.” It is a visually stunning representation of the Civil Rights leaders unfinished fight and a life cut short. Dr. King himself stands overlooking the Tidal Basin, arms crossed, gripping a sheath of papers.

I sat in my wheelchair, uttering a grateful prayer for his life, endurance and sacrifices; looked up to see my daughter walking slowly toward the massive monument to lay her hand so gently on on part of Dr. King. Her love, admiration and desire to emulate the man who deeply lived like Jesus moved me to tears.

I had a hard time rolling back to our tour bus, to be honest. I tangibly felt God’s presence while we visited this beautiful memorial, surrounded by a 450 feet long inscription wall which includes excerpts from many of King’s sermons and speeches. On this crescent-shaped granite wall, fourteen of King’s quotes are inscribed, the earliest from the time of 1955 and the latest from his final sermon, delivered in 1968 at Washington, D.C.’s National Cathedral, just four days before his assassination. We saw the beautiful pulpit a few days later.

The Both/And was not lost on me, amidst the holiness; both sadness for the world in that Civil Rights fight then (still NOW) and the magnitude of grace in how Dr. Martin Luther King followed his calling. Both the respect deserved and the sense of questioning, “Please Jesus, when will this fight be redeemed?” Both gratitude for his wisdom and an apology for all he and so many others have endured.

Though I am white and cannot relate to the struggles of so many who are of equal, but different races, I can relate to some of the feelings of injustice, complexity and bias because of my disability. I felt a small bit of that, (being able to relate) as I sat staring up at Dr. King’s image in the rock. It was a moment I will never forget.

Every year on Dr. Martin Luther King day, I share my favorite of his quotes on my social accounts: “Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.” (1963, Strength to Love)

This quote has moved, shaped and most often reminds me, we can’t reach each other without the ever-present love and goodness of Jesus. We absolutely cannot…but we must keep trying.

If Mr. Rogers can continually “preach” about being born with the indelible goodness of God in our being and Dr. King gave his last breath for the hope of equality, light and love (ie, being like and with Jesus,) then, oh my goodness, I can certainly do my part of loving, caring and making continued efforts to value one another. And when I can’t, my God can within me. All I must continue to do is try….

We have come so far and we have so far to go….both…and.

Both/And

Xoxo