I've been reading a book called The Hole in Our Gospel by Richard Stearns, CEO of World Vision. A co-worker of mine bought a copy of the book for me as a graduation gift and I'm so glad he did. It's a compelling read, one that has made me stop and evaluate some areas of my own life, as well as reconsider the role I play in my upcoming trip to Africa.
Sometimes I think it's easy to read books like Stearns', which focus on areas where we as the Church in America and where we as individual Christians often fail, and just get all down-and-out and feel like the social injustices happening in the world are just too overwhelming and too much to handle. It's easy to read the newspaper headlines every day and think the world is such a lost cause and that surely God has all together forgotten about the orphans and the widows, the poor and the impoverished, the diseased and the broken. But as we think on those things, more often than not, we still do nothing to take action, to make some kind of change. If we are to feel compassion, then that compassion has to do more than just make us feel sympathy - it must move us to action. Stearns thoughtfully finds the balance between calling us out as a body of believers and as individuals and holding us accountable, without making us feel like we are completely helpless and hopeless in the face of the crisis. He presents facts, anecdotes, statistics, and Scripture all to support the idea that there is indeed a hole in our gospel.
One of the quotes I really appreciated that he included was from Bono:
We can be the generation that no longer accepts that an accident of latitude determines whether a child lives or dies – but will we be that generation? Will we in the West realize our potential or will we sleep in the comfort of our affluence with apathy and indifference murmuring softly in our ears? Fifteen thousand people dying needlessly, every day from AIDS, TB, and malaria. Mothers, fathers, teachers, farmers, nurses, mechanics, children. This is Africa’s crisis. That it’s not on the nightly news, that we do not treat this as an emergency – that’s our crisis.
Future generations flipping through these pages will know whether we answered the key question. The evidence will be the world around them. History will be our judge, but what’s written is up to us. We can’t say our generation didn’t know how to do it. We can’t say our generation couldn’t afford it. And we can’t say our generation didn’t have reason to do it. It’s up to us.
As Stearns outlines, we are a generation of people who have the awareness, the accesibility, and ability to put our beliefs as Christians into action, to stop paying lip service to the idea of taking care of the widows and orphans of the world, but to actually make it happen. But will we?
6.14.2010
6.08.2010
New Favorite Artist
I went to Columbia's Art in the Park over the weekend and I came across my new favorite artist, Randal Spangler. I'm drawn to any piece of art that has vivid colors and is imaginative - Randal's work is just that. But it's all done in colored pencil. The detail on some of his pieces is astounding and I fell in love with it all as soon as I saw it. I'm just kicking myself for not buying a print of the drawing that I absolutely adore, "Sanctuary of Knowledge."
6.04.2010
Current Reading List
I realized I've got stacks of books scattered all over my apartment, all of them with bookmarks in various places, and various sticky tabs sticking out from some pages, indicators of quotes to write down or profound thoughts. I just love books. I have this horrible fear that some day they will stop printing books and everything will be electronic. Maybe that explains my subconscious desire to buy books nearly every time I'm in a book store or at the local public library book sale. I like to touch and feel and underline and reread - and I supposed I could do that with an electronic version of a book, but it just doesn't compare.
I subscribe to a weekly e-mail from Cardus and they recently had an article entitled "The Wake for Printed Books." One particular section stood out regarding books andtheir potential demise:
And I'm a lover of books, too, unaccustomed to making a body/soul distinction where the printed word is concerned. The book is the object and its contents, inseparable in my mind. I dwell in a house lined with shelves, most of them bowed by the weight of their printed content. Beautiful books and ugly ones. Read and unread. Objects of comfort, outrage, derision, admiration. Some pristine and others scarred. Some bound in leather, some in paper (at least one in shagreen). Prized and cheap side by side. Tangible things, each with a history. I can tell you where they came from, where they've been. The ones I sought out and the ones I discovered unexpectedly. The ones kept under glass in dark bookstores and, all too often, the ones overnighted from the clean, well-lit warehouses of Amazon. All of that will disappear when the book's body does.
Perhaps nothing can stop the change. Perhaps nothing should. As at the wake for the dead friend, that's not the point. Sure, he was sick. Sure, we all saw it coming. In a way, we're even relieved that his suffering is finally over. But don't expect us not to miss him. And don't expect us not to pity you for never having the chance to know him. Those of us who did will never forget.
So to honor my love for books and to stem the tide of those who love the electronic versions, I encourage you to go to the local library and pick up these bodies of books, some of my favorites and also some current reads:
Current reads:
King Raven Series, by Stephen Lawhead (the Welsh version of Robin Hood, very good read)
Citation - In A Class by Himself, by Phil Georgeff
Lord of the Rings Series, by J.R.R. Tolkien (Tolkien is a literary genius - his books are so good I nearly want to cry while reading them)
The Hole in Our Gospel, by Richard Stearns (convicting and inspiring in light of upcoming travels to Africa)
Favorites:
A Severe Mercy, by Sheldon Vanauken (hands down, my all-time favorite book)
Shoeless Joe, by W.P. Kinsella (this book is just plain magical)
"The Beast in the Jungle," by Henry James (my favorite short story, language is a little dense but profound story nonetheless)
So enjoy some good books this summer. Enjoy the feel and smell of the pages. Savor the printed word.
"A room without books is like a body without a soul." - Cicero
I subscribe to a weekly e-mail from Cardus and they recently had an article entitled "The Wake for Printed Books." One particular section stood out regarding books andtheir potential demise:
And I'm a lover of books, too, unaccustomed to making a body/soul distinction where the printed word is concerned. The book is the object and its contents, inseparable in my mind. I dwell in a house lined with shelves, most of them bowed by the weight of their printed content. Beautiful books and ugly ones. Read and unread. Objects of comfort, outrage, derision, admiration. Some pristine and others scarred. Some bound in leather, some in paper (at least one in shagreen). Prized and cheap side by side. Tangible things, each with a history. I can tell you where they came from, where they've been. The ones I sought out and the ones I discovered unexpectedly. The ones kept under glass in dark bookstores and, all too often, the ones overnighted from the clean, well-lit warehouses of Amazon. All of that will disappear when the book's body does.
Perhaps nothing can stop the change. Perhaps nothing should. As at the wake for the dead friend, that's not the point. Sure, he was sick. Sure, we all saw it coming. In a way, we're even relieved that his suffering is finally over. But don't expect us not to miss him. And don't expect us not to pity you for never having the chance to know him. Those of us who did will never forget.
So to honor my love for books and to stem the tide of those who love the electronic versions, I encourage you to go to the local library and pick up these bodies of books, some of my favorites and also some current reads:
Current reads:
King Raven Series, by Stephen Lawhead (the Welsh version of Robin Hood, very good read)
Citation - In A Class by Himself, by Phil Georgeff
Lord of the Rings Series, by J.R.R. Tolkien (Tolkien is a literary genius - his books are so good I nearly want to cry while reading them)
The Hole in Our Gospel, by Richard Stearns (convicting and inspiring in light of upcoming travels to Africa)
Favorites:
A Severe Mercy, by Sheldon Vanauken (hands down, my all-time favorite book)
Shoeless Joe, by W.P. Kinsella (this book is just plain magical)
"The Beast in the Jungle," by Henry James (my favorite short story, language is a little dense but profound story nonetheless)
So enjoy some good books this summer. Enjoy the feel and smell of the pages. Savor the printed word.
"A room without books is like a body without a soul." - Cicero
6.03.2010
Everybody Has a Story
Everyone has a story to tell, whether they know or not. I met a couple the other night, however, that certainly had stories to tell. I was invited by a friend, Jackie, who had met the couple, Dick and Cathy, at the local Y. Dick and Cathy had invited Jackie out to dinner and told her to bring a friend if she liked. Jackie asked and I said, "Sure - why not?" Apparently the couple wanted to pick the brain of some college students as they were interested in getting involved in college ministry here in the local area.
We arrive at their house, which was a modest cabin on the edge of a 20-acre lake, tucked back in the woods. Jackie had mentioned that they were an older couple and so I had in my mind maybe people in their 50s or 60s. We knock on the door and Dick opens the door and it was like looking at white-haired version of Dick Clark. Dick had bright eyes and an eager smile. Then up walked Cathy, looking just as cheery. But they certainly were not in their 50s or 60s. Cathy, in fact, is 83 and Dick is 81! But here's the crazy fun part of their story.
They had each been married previously - Cathy for 53 years and Dick for 48 years. They had both lost their spouses 8-10 years ago. Dick and Cathy met while in Sunday School at a local church and one day they decided to go hiking on some local trails. Cathy, unfortunately, took a tumble off one of the ledges and fell nearly 15 feet and got a concussion. Remember, at this point, Dick and Cathy barely knew each other. Well, the doctor said Cathy was either going to have to stay in the hospital for 4 days to monitor her concussion or they could release her but somebody would have to stay with her for those 4 days. Dick was the lucky volunteer. Dick gets a big smile on his face at this point and says, "I fell in love with her during those 4 days." They got married shortly after and have been married for 7 years now!
They went on to tell all sorts of stories - Cathy's travels down Route 66, Dick's time in the military, and both spoke of their time as avocado growers in California. Coicidentally enough, Dick had started Avocado Grower magazine, a magazine to which Cathy subscribed and read frequently - but neither knew each other at this point, even though they had lived only miles apart, each on their own avocado farms in southern California!
They spoke also of their love for international students and their desire to minister to them and share the love of Christ with them. But what I remember most of all was what Dick said as Jackie and I were walking out the door after a delightful dinner and conversation with them. He was speaking of their desire to plunge into the ministry and to really devote themselves to the Lord, "Well, Cathy and I only have a short amount of time left and we want to make the most of it." When I'm 83 years old I want to be able to tell the kind of stories they tell and live with the attitude that they do - that there's always still time to make a difference for Christ.
We arrive at their house, which was a modest cabin on the edge of a 20-acre lake, tucked back in the woods. Jackie had mentioned that they were an older couple and so I had in my mind maybe people in their 50s or 60s. We knock on the door and Dick opens the door and it was like looking at white-haired version of Dick Clark. Dick had bright eyes and an eager smile. Then up walked Cathy, looking just as cheery. But they certainly were not in their 50s or 60s. Cathy, in fact, is 83 and Dick is 81! But here's the crazy fun part of their story.
They had each been married previously - Cathy for 53 years and Dick for 48 years. They had both lost their spouses 8-10 years ago. Dick and Cathy met while in Sunday School at a local church and one day they decided to go hiking on some local trails. Cathy, unfortunately, took a tumble off one of the ledges and fell nearly 15 feet and got a concussion. Remember, at this point, Dick and Cathy barely knew each other. Well, the doctor said Cathy was either going to have to stay in the hospital for 4 days to monitor her concussion or they could release her but somebody would have to stay with her for those 4 days. Dick was the lucky volunteer. Dick gets a big smile on his face at this point and says, "I fell in love with her during those 4 days." They got married shortly after and have been married for 7 years now!
They went on to tell all sorts of stories - Cathy's travels down Route 66, Dick's time in the military, and both spoke of their time as avocado growers in California. Coicidentally enough, Dick had started Avocado Grower magazine, a magazine to which Cathy subscribed and read frequently - but neither knew each other at this point, even though they had lived only miles apart, each on their own avocado farms in southern California!
They spoke also of their love for international students and their desire to minister to them and share the love of Christ with them. But what I remember most of all was what Dick said as Jackie and I were walking out the door after a delightful dinner and conversation with them. He was speaking of their desire to plunge into the ministry and to really devote themselves to the Lord, "Well, Cathy and I only have a short amount of time left and we want to make the most of it." When I'm 83 years old I want to be able to tell the kind of stories they tell and live with the attitude that they do - that there's always still time to make a difference for Christ.
5.29.2010
Flat Tires at Convenient Times
I know, it sounds strange - when is a flat tire ever convenient? I managed to get one the other night somehow. I didn't notice it first, but when your car makes really obnoxious noises and starts leaning to one side, you probably have a flat tire. Go figure. So I ran down to the gas station just off campus (convenient) and I filled it with air. I had no idea where I was going to take it because I couldn't think of any tire places off the top of my head in the town so I decided to go ahead and go to work and hopefully figure something out eventually.
So I pull into the parking lot of work and I look up and literally look at the sign that says "Plaza Tire Center." (Convenient). So I run my car over there and have them look at it while I'm at work since I'm just up the street. (Convenient).
They say they fix it and all for only $15. Excellent. I drive to see a friend that night and while I'm driving back home again, it's clanking again and leaning to one side. Not cool. I manage to make it home (barely) without driving completely on the rim. I figured I couldn't do anything about it tonight so I just crawled into bed with a good book ("Hood" by Stephen Lawhead - excellent read so far) and forgot about it.
This morning I knew I had to tackle the problem. It was one of the few times in my life where I was sincerely sick of being alone, and by alone I meant single. But that's a different story. My boss - so grateful for her - told me I should just call campus safety and they can come put air in the tire, at least enough to get me to the tire place again. So the nice safety officer came with his portable compressor and put air in my tire and then I booked it down to the tire place to have them repair it again.
All that to say - despite a flat tire being a general pain in the rear, the little details have mattered. The safety officer who put air in my tire. My boss giving me some guidance on what to do next. My job being right across the street from the tire place. Not having to miss work because of all this. Living with in walking distance of both work and the tire place. Not driving home like I planned - because heaven knows I'd been in a big ol' heap if this had happened while I'm cruising along at 70 miles an hour on I-70.
So we'll get it fixed and move on with life, a potential major inconvenience being made a minor one at a convenient time. Thanks, God, for the little details that matter.
So I pull into the parking lot of work and I look up and literally look at the sign that says "Plaza Tire Center." (Convenient). So I run my car over there and have them look at it while I'm at work since I'm just up the street. (Convenient).
They say they fix it and all for only $15. Excellent. I drive to see a friend that night and while I'm driving back home again, it's clanking again and leaning to one side. Not cool. I manage to make it home (barely) without driving completely on the rim. I figured I couldn't do anything about it tonight so I just crawled into bed with a good book ("Hood" by Stephen Lawhead - excellent read so far) and forgot about it.
This morning I knew I had to tackle the problem. It was one of the few times in my life where I was sincerely sick of being alone, and by alone I meant single. But that's a different story. My boss - so grateful for her - told me I should just call campus safety and they can come put air in the tire, at least enough to get me to the tire place again. So the nice safety officer came with his portable compressor and put air in my tire and then I booked it down to the tire place to have them repair it again.
All that to say - despite a flat tire being a general pain in the rear, the little details have mattered. The safety officer who put air in my tire. My boss giving me some guidance on what to do next. My job being right across the street from the tire place. Not having to miss work because of all this. Living with in walking distance of both work and the tire place. Not driving home like I planned - because heaven knows I'd been in a big ol' heap if this had happened while I'm cruising along at 70 miles an hour on I-70.
So we'll get it fixed and move on with life, a potential major inconvenience being made a minor one at a convenient time. Thanks, God, for the little details that matter.
5.26.2010
A Country Song for Every Season
I am convinced that there is a country song for every season of life. I’ve already got a couple years of college mapped out and if I thought about it long enough, I could probably figure out the rest. This season is no exception. In order to celebrate my recent completion of my MBA program, I present to you Montgomery Gentry’s song, “Hell yeah!”
She's got an MBA and a plush corner office
She's got a don't mess with me attitude
She'll close a deal she don't reveal that she can't fill
The loneliness the emptiness
Except when she comes in here
She's the product of the Me generation
She's got a rock and roll side when you get her agitated
She got the tattoo there on her derriere from a spring break dare
In Panama where love was all she thought she'd ever need
She yells out to the band
Know any Bruce Springsteen
Then she jumps up on the bar
And she, and she starts to scream
She says
Hell yeah!
A few things to note, however, about this song:
1. I don’t have a plush corner office. I have a closet. With no windows.
2. Don’t think the loneliness, emptiness really applies to me.
3. Definitely a product of the Me generation. Hello Millenials!
4. I’m not sure what a rock and roll side looks like when somebody gets agitated, but I’m going to assume I don’t have one.
5. And definitely no tattoos. I spent my spring breaks at home.
6. I think the only song I’ll be yelling out by Bruce Springsteen is “Born in the U.S.A.”
So really, about the only lines that apply are “She’s got an MBA…..and she says “HELL YEAH!”
:)
She's got an MBA and a plush corner office
She's got a don't mess with me attitude
She'll close a deal she don't reveal that she can't fill
The loneliness the emptiness
Except when she comes in here
She's the product of the Me generation
She's got a rock and roll side when you get her agitated
She got the tattoo there on her derriere from a spring break dare
In Panama where love was all she thought she'd ever need
She yells out to the band
Know any Bruce Springsteen
Then she jumps up on the bar
And she, and she starts to scream
She says
Hell yeah!
A few things to note, however, about this song:
1. I don’t have a plush corner office. I have a closet. With no windows.
2. Don’t think the loneliness, emptiness really applies to me.
3. Definitely a product of the Me generation. Hello Millenials!
4. I’m not sure what a rock and roll side looks like when somebody gets agitated, but I’m going to assume I don’t have one.
5. And definitely no tattoos. I spent my spring breaks at home.
6. I think the only song I’ll be yelling out by Bruce Springsteen is “Born in the U.S.A.”
So really, about the only lines that apply are “She’s got an MBA…..and she says “HELL YEAH!”
:)
5.24.2010
Notes from my niece
My niece and I have been exchanging a journal here recently. It's something I have done with several groups of friends, all of us maintaining long-distance friendships. One person will write in it, send it off, next person writes in it and sends it off, and so on. Well, it dawned on me one day that I should do that with my niece. I don't know why I didn't think of this sooner considering I'm almost done with my time here in Missouri, but nevertheless, I figure it's never too late to start.
So I had this journal custom-made awhile back from Snapfish with a picture of my niece and I. Lots of blank pages with plenty of room to fill it with stories, questions, and thoughts. It's already made several rounds between her and I, but this last one particularly made me laugh. In my previous entry to her, I asked her if there was anything in the world she wanted to be when she grew up, what would it be?
Her response went something to the effect of, "I miss you lots, wish you were here...now about that question of yours." Typical fashion for my niece to be very straight-forward. She responded that she would like to be a baby-sitter (spelled baby-siter in her words). She then said, "Now I have some questions for you." She then proceeds to give me a series of math equations. I was little perplexed by that, feeling like I had asked one of the most profound questions of childhood and she responds with a series of math equations. But that's okay - I answered her math equations anyways.
What was particularly funny about that, however, I discovered through a conversation with my mom that before my niece began writing this entry, she bounced into the kitchen at our house and asked my mom, "Now, what's harder - being a realtor or babysitter?" She seemed to be very concerned about determining which was harder. My mom responded that for my niece in particular, likely the realtor job would be harder because it deals with finances and such. So my niece decided baby-sitter it is.
My next question to her is "What is your favorite animal and why?" I wonder if she'll ask my mom this time around, "Which is prettier - a horse or a dog?" If only as adults we had questions like that.
So I had this journal custom-made awhile back from Snapfish with a picture of my niece and I. Lots of blank pages with plenty of room to fill it with stories, questions, and thoughts. It's already made several rounds between her and I, but this last one particularly made me laugh. In my previous entry to her, I asked her if there was anything in the world she wanted to be when she grew up, what would it be?
Her response went something to the effect of, "I miss you lots, wish you were here...now about that question of yours." Typical fashion for my niece to be very straight-forward. She responded that she would like to be a baby-sitter (spelled baby-siter in her words). She then said, "Now I have some questions for you." She then proceeds to give me a series of math equations. I was little perplexed by that, feeling like I had asked one of the most profound questions of childhood and she responds with a series of math equations. But that's okay - I answered her math equations anyways.
What was particularly funny about that, however, I discovered through a conversation with my mom that before my niece began writing this entry, she bounced into the kitchen at our house and asked my mom, "Now, what's harder - being a realtor or babysitter?" She seemed to be very concerned about determining which was harder. My mom responded that for my niece in particular, likely the realtor job would be harder because it deals with finances and such. So my niece decided baby-sitter it is.
My next question to her is "What is your favorite animal and why?" I wonder if she'll ask my mom this time around, "Which is prettier - a horse or a dog?" If only as adults we had questions like that.
3.02.2010
Honest Conversations
Somewhere along the way I became convinced that God is a taker. In a recent Beth Moore study that I'm doing she posed the question, "In your heart of hearts, do you believe that God is a giver or a taker?" Without even having to think about it, I knew my answer. The reality is that I had been thinking about that question for awhile, maybe in so many different words, but I came to that conclusion awhile ago.
Because somewhere along the way, I made this decision to buy into the idea that God really was out to take things from me. That He wasn't going to do what was best for me, that was He was always going to ask me to give up the things that mattered most to me. And I began to resent Him. If I'm really honest with myself - I let that belief take root in my life. And it's wreaking havoc.
For awhile now, I've been trying to trace the timeline of my life and really pinpoint the moment at which I bought into that lie. And while I have nothing definitive, I do know that two significant events happened between my junior and senior year of college that really began to cement that belief. Now, I don't think it was this conscious moment of saying to myself, "God, I don't trust you anymore because of x, y, and z," but rather it was a progression of events and thoughts that led me to that.
One of those events being my time spent living abroad in Russia. That particular season of life was pretty ugly spiritually - just a lot of disobedience and sin, but also feeling very much I had been cast aside by other believers, people I trusted to help me walk through life, but ultimately made me feel as though I was being an inconvenience and I should pack my bags and leave. I was saw more for how I was damaging the team than for the fact that clearly something was wrong with me. My external behavior was being dealt with, but nobody was taking the time to deal with internal issues. It caused a lot of distrust - and the pages of my journals testify to that. Over and over again, I would say, 'I don't know who to trust anymore, I don't know where to turn..."
The other significant event was when I felt a particular relationship had been yanked out from underneath me. There are a host of thoughts that could be expanded upon when it comes to this relationship, but the primary point being that I felt I had been rejected - and that something yet again had been taken from me.
I realize in the grand scheme of life that these are fairly small events - but that matter to me. And they've affected me, and they've caused a lot of pain over time. And it's only now that I'm beginning to see just how much hold I've let them have over me. It's only now that I'm beginning to see how much I let those areas of my past destroy my relationship with the Lord. And it's only now that I'm beginning to see just how deeply rooted that belief that God is a taker has taken over my heart.
I've spent many a moment here lately having some very honest conversations with God about that - and, man, is it ever hard to say to God, "I really don't think you have plans for me, I really don't think what you have for me is good, and I'm terrified of the fact that whatever good might be in my life, you're going to steal it from me." It's heartbreaking to know that I break the heart of God. And then the anger sets in - mad at myself for how selfish and childish I've been - and mad at the devil for taking from me as well.
I have no good conclusion to all this - the work is still being done in my life. I know so much more is yet to be uncovered, about my past, about my beliefs, about my present, about my future. And we'll keep pressing on.
Because somewhere along the way, I made this decision to buy into the idea that God really was out to take things from me. That He wasn't going to do what was best for me, that was He was always going to ask me to give up the things that mattered most to me. And I began to resent Him. If I'm really honest with myself - I let that belief take root in my life. And it's wreaking havoc.
For awhile now, I've been trying to trace the timeline of my life and really pinpoint the moment at which I bought into that lie. And while I have nothing definitive, I do know that two significant events happened between my junior and senior year of college that really began to cement that belief. Now, I don't think it was this conscious moment of saying to myself, "God, I don't trust you anymore because of x, y, and z," but rather it was a progression of events and thoughts that led me to that.
One of those events being my time spent living abroad in Russia. That particular season of life was pretty ugly spiritually - just a lot of disobedience and sin, but also feeling very much I had been cast aside by other believers, people I trusted to help me walk through life, but ultimately made me feel as though I was being an inconvenience and I should pack my bags and leave. I was saw more for how I was damaging the team than for the fact that clearly something was wrong with me. My external behavior was being dealt with, but nobody was taking the time to deal with internal issues. It caused a lot of distrust - and the pages of my journals testify to that. Over and over again, I would say, 'I don't know who to trust anymore, I don't know where to turn..."
The other significant event was when I felt a particular relationship had been yanked out from underneath me. There are a host of thoughts that could be expanded upon when it comes to this relationship, but the primary point being that I felt I had been rejected - and that something yet again had been taken from me.
I realize in the grand scheme of life that these are fairly small events - but that matter to me. And they've affected me, and they've caused a lot of pain over time. And it's only now that I'm beginning to see just how much hold I've let them have over me. It's only now that I'm beginning to see how much I let those areas of my past destroy my relationship with the Lord. And it's only now that I'm beginning to see just how deeply rooted that belief that God is a taker has taken over my heart.
I've spent many a moment here lately having some very honest conversations with God about that - and, man, is it ever hard to say to God, "I really don't think you have plans for me, I really don't think what you have for me is good, and I'm terrified of the fact that whatever good might be in my life, you're going to steal it from me." It's heartbreaking to know that I break the heart of God. And then the anger sets in - mad at myself for how selfish and childish I've been - and mad at the devil for taking from me as well.
I have no good conclusion to all this - the work is still being done in my life. I know so much more is yet to be uncovered, about my past, about my beliefs, about my present, about my future. And we'll keep pressing on.
1.12.2010
Obscure novels
"A lot of the people who read a bestselling novel...do not read much other fiction. By contrast, the audience for an obscure novel is largely composed of people who read a lot. That means the least popular books are judged by people who have the highest standards, while the most popular are judged by people who literally do not know any better....." — The Economist
10.08.2009
Fears
Whew - what a whirlwind these last few days have been. I always feel a little out of sorts when I'm out of the office for very long. It seems like there is a mountain of e-mails to get through and then that stack of homework I need to get too as well. Hopped on a plane last Friday afternoon to head down to Florida for a weekend of training at Rafiki's Home Offices. What a great weekend. I loved hearing about Rosemary Jensen's, the founder, vision for children and Africa. I loved learning about how God moved in her life in order to help bring about Rafiki. And I loved learning about how I get to be a part of it.
I might have mentioned this before, but so often when I think of Africa, two fears come to mind and they have nothing to do with getting eaten by lions or dying from malaria. It has to do with possibilities and potential. I'm afraid to go to Africa and have it change my life. And I'm afraid all at the same that it won't. There's always lingering thoughts in the back of mind, thoughts of knowing that when God places a calling on your life, you go. I don't know that my life's work will be in Africa, but it could be. And that can be scary. Scary to consider the thought of leaving everything you know, everything that is safe and comfortable. But you know that you also will be miserable if you don't. Rosemary said it one point that while she was afraid of stepping out in faith to pursue what God had given her, she also knew there was no way she could say no to it.
But I also think, too, that sometimes we can go to places like Africa or sometimes our own backyard and when we are confronted with the atrocities of life, we just want to shut down. We want to ignore the depravity of the world we live in because if we do that, then we don't have to be responsible or take action. I just got done reading a book called "How De Body," which is about the civil war in Sierra Leone. Excellent book. A quote stuck with me though from that book when the author said, "What the mind doesn't know, the heart doesn't have to grieve." When we live in our safe little bubbles and don't get out there and experience the world, we keep ourselves ignorant, somehow thinking if I don't see it or witness it, then I don't have to deal with it. I don't want to be like that. I mean, yeah, it's scary to go out on a limb, to put yourself out there and commit your life to something that is bigger than you. But I also know that I can't stand on the sidelines of life either. So what if Africa turns my world upside down. And it may very well not, but if my experience there should, then that's okay. I'll be right where I need to be.
Front gate to the Home Offices
One of the photographs they had hanging in the training center
I might have mentioned this before, but so often when I think of Africa, two fears come to mind and they have nothing to do with getting eaten by lions or dying from malaria. It has to do with possibilities and potential. I'm afraid to go to Africa and have it change my life. And I'm afraid all at the same that it won't. There's always lingering thoughts in the back of mind, thoughts of knowing that when God places a calling on your life, you go. I don't know that my life's work will be in Africa, but it could be. And that can be scary. Scary to consider the thought of leaving everything you know, everything that is safe and comfortable. But you know that you also will be miserable if you don't. Rosemary said it one point that while she was afraid of stepping out in faith to pursue what God had given her, she also knew there was no way she could say no to it.
But I also think, too, that sometimes we can go to places like Africa or sometimes our own backyard and when we are confronted with the atrocities of life, we just want to shut down. We want to ignore the depravity of the world we live in because if we do that, then we don't have to be responsible or take action. I just got done reading a book called "How De Body," which is about the civil war in Sierra Leone. Excellent book. A quote stuck with me though from that book when the author said, "What the mind doesn't know, the heart doesn't have to grieve." When we live in our safe little bubbles and don't get out there and experience the world, we keep ourselves ignorant, somehow thinking if I don't see it or witness it, then I don't have to deal with it. I don't want to be like that. I mean, yeah, it's scary to go out on a limb, to put yourself out there and commit your life to something that is bigger than you. But I also know that I can't stand on the sidelines of life either. So what if Africa turns my world upside down. And it may very well not, but if my experience there should, then that's okay. I'll be right where I need to be.
Front gate to the Home Offices
One of the photographs they had hanging in the training center
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