I have no idea what the world is

I have no idea what the world is going to be like in 5, 10, or 20 years. Looking back, I can see that, in general, we have mostly gotten better. Racism and sexism may not be gone, but they are recognized issues. We got rid of institutionalized slavery and gender discrimination and we are working to eliminate it from our culture.

Indoor plumbing, internet, large hadron collider, things my grandparents may have seen beginnings of but never the extent to which they could be utilized. There is no real way for a person of one time period to completely prepare someone to live in a totally different time period. Each generation faces many of the same obstacles but in completely different context. The ethical implications of technology were never more evident than with Albert Einstein and the atomic bomb. But there is no way for me today to fully understand the full implications of today’s actions in the context of history. Even the atomic theory that brought us Hiroshima also provides nuclear energy; cheap, reliable, and relatively safe. It also brought us Fukishima (stinkin’ Japan), the geological implications of which won’t be known for a long time but at the very least, we know it’s not good.

Maybe as far as technology goes, we can’t say it’s good or bad technology. It is what we make of it. So I guess the responsibility of one generation is not to equip the next one to take over but to instill values and curiosity and a general wish for well-being among mankind. All it takes is one charismatic psycho to decide to destroy the earth and we’re all gone. There exists in the world today the technology and capability to destroy the entire planet and every bit of life on it. We can either live in fear of it, or decide to live in spite of it. Decide to do things and pass on values that perpetuate kindness and compassion.

Problematic Christmas Songs Part 2: Baby It’s Cold Outside.

Christmas music is a part of the holiday season as much as nativity scenes and holiday sweaters. They don’t have to make sense. They’re meant to be fun. However, sometimes the lyrics can be a little problematic.

The second song I wanted to discuss is Baby It’s Cold Outside. It’s old and classic. People seem to love it because it talks about not wanting to leave because it’s cold which is a sentiment I can definitely relate to.

The duet starts out innocent enough between a man and a woman. The woman wants to go home but the man wants her to stay because it’s cold outside.

She says: I really can’t stay/ I’ve got to go away/ This evening has been/ So very nice/ My mother will start to worry/ My father will be pacing the floor/ So really I’d better scurry/
Maybe just a half a drink more.

And all the while, he’s very encouraging and maybe a little creepy but nothing weird.

At the end of the first verse, she concedes to stay for another drink. The start of the second verse, she worries what the neighbors will think and then says “Say, what’s in this drink?” which is a big red flag. There’s two options I can think of for why she would be concerned about what’s in her drink. Maybe she wanted a cocoa or coffee and tasted liquor in the drink which is bad. Or, there’s some sort of date rape drug in her drink that makes it taste a little off. Either way, the fact her drink tastes weird is a really bad sign. 

But instead of answering her question, he just tells her she’s pretty. “Your eyes are like starlight now/I’ll take your hat your hair sure looks swell.”

This is the part that really bugs me:

“I ought to say no, no, no – Mind if I move in closer?
At least I’m gonna say that I tried – What’s the sense in hurting my pride?”

She tells him no. She does not want to stay. She wants to go home. And he moves in closer anyway. She has in no way indicated that she wants him anywhere closer but he does it anyway. And his retort for why she shouldn’t bother getting him to let her go is because it would hurt his pride. That sets off so many creeper alarms.

In the third verse, she’s had enough of his “baby it’s cold outside” excuse so she asks to borrow his coat and he says there’s too much snow to walk.

The final straw for me is when he sings “How could you do this to me?” This is the part where I yell at my radio “She’s not doing anything to you! She just wants to get away from some creep who doesn’t know when to let a party end!”

 

TL;DR: Don’t put things in a girl’s drink if they want to go home after a Christmas party. Let the girl go home. Call her tomorrow.

Problematic Christmas Songs Part 1: Feed The World

Christmas music is a part of the holiday season as much as nativity scenes and holiday sweaters. They don’t have to make sense. They’re meant to be fun. However, sometimes the lyrics can be a little problematic.

I first heard the song Feed the World on Glee last Christmas and didn’t pay much attention to it but I’ve had a chance to hear it about 300 times so far this December and it has started to bother me.

First, the idea behind the song is great. It’s about focusing on giving rather than receiving and realizing that we’re blessed to live where we live and have all that we have.

“And in our world of plenty
we can spread a smile of joy”

“But say a prayer,
pray for the other ones
At Christmastime it’s hard,
but when you’re having fun
There’s a world outside your window,
and it’s a world of dread and fear”

Sounds like a great start. It is good to remember people who are having a hard time and be thankful for what you have. It’s also good to give money or food or clothes or friendship to those who may be lacking it. Not just at Christmas, but any time of year.

Then a little yellow light starts to go off.

“Well tonight thank God it’s them
instead of you”

Yes, be thankful it’s not you but the yellow warning light is the ‘better you than me’ mentality that tends to separate people into categories and make those in one category think they may be better than those in the other category. But, by itself, this line doesn’t really mean the song is terrible.

Until you get to the chorus:

“And there won’t be snow in Africa this Christmastime
The greatest gift they’ll get this year is life (Oooh)
Where nothing ever grows
No rain or rivers flow
Do they know it’s Christmastime at all?”

There won’t be snow in Africa this Christmas time because most of Africa is in the southern hemisphere where December happens to be the middle of summer. There also won’t be snow in Oklahoma this Christmas but that doesn’t mean we don’t know it’s Christmas. Any where that celebrates Christmas (including Africa) has its own traditions. As a matter of fact, they don’t all even celebrate it on the same day we do. They don’t have the same traditions or the same songs. It’s a completely different continent and each country in Africa has its own set of Christmas traditions.

Secondly, the greatest gift any of us ever receive is life. That’s not an Africa-specific thing. An xbox is great but it doesn’t do you any good if you’re dead. Gifts and family and snow don’t mean anything if you don’t have life.

Third, things definitely grow in Africa. There are jungles and forests and the savannah, Africa is home to some of the richest, most dense ecosystems in the world.

It definitely rains. A lot.

Ever heard of the Nile river in Africa? There are rivers flowing.

Yes. They definitely know it’s Christmastime.

The idea of charity at Christmas is a good one. Not a new idea but definitely a good theme to underscore during the holidays. However, victimizing an entire continent of diverse people, places, and countries and turning it into one homogenous, empoverished, and helpless place that needs western saviors to send them money is racist and totally not helpful.

Not Giving Up

Back in February or March, I signed up to go to India again with some friends from Africa. The trip is scheduled for December and in February, that seemed forever away. Now it’s August and I am lacking in funds. I was thinking that for the first time, I might have to drop out of the trip. I decided that if I didn’t find the money by today, Sunday, I would drop the trip and let my friends go without me. I was feeling discouraged when I got to church today but little did I know that God was here and He had a plan for me.
God is not on the back side of heaven having a little nap. He’s overseeing all of creation and He’s lovingly involved.
Every song, every moment of church today seems to be about India. Whether I’m there or not, God has a plan for India. I really don’t want to give up on going this winter but either way, there will always be a need for ministry there. Restoration and salvation will come to India.

If anyone would like to be involved is spreading the Gospel to India the Christmas, you can go to Global Infusion and donate to my trip to India or send a check to
Global Infusion
4422 Timberlake Dr.
Louisville, TN 37777

Running with Purpose

“I run with purpose in every step. I am not just shadowboxing.”

1 Corinthians 9:26

It’s a short verse but it blindsided me last Sunday when my pastor opened his sermon with this as a part of the message. He spoke about the verses surrounding this one, how we all run in a race and we should all run in such a way that we might win. “Winning the race,” he pointed out, refers to winning people to Christ. The reward for winning isn’t heaven, as some have said. The reward is the joy that comes from that. This starts to sound like when your mom would ask you to clean your room as a kid and you say “What do I get if I do?” and she would say “The satisfaction of a job well done.” which is definitely not a prize.

Let me just tell you though, the joy from seeing someone do a complete 180 and come to a relationship with Christ and knowing that God let you have just a tiny part in it is enough so far beyond any reward I could ever think or imagine. If you’ve never had that joy, I don’t know how to tell you about it other than to say it is the main motivation for most of my life goals.

I want to say it is the main motivation for everything I do in my life but that isn’t strictly true. I also do things because I’m bored or it looks like fun or I have nothing better going on. I eat because I like food. I sleep because my bed is comfy. I read because Oklahoma City only affords so many adventures.

Then I found the verse I opened this post with. The metaphor of running is about trying to share the Gospel and show people Christ. Paul says he runs with purpose in EVERY STEP. Every step he takes in life is purposeful for the goal of winning the race, of seeing people come to a saving knowledge of Christ.

Imagine what that would look like. Doing things because they actively push you to your goal of seeing people come to know Christ. Eating purposefully to nourish your body so it’s fit for running or to have an opportunity to share Christ over a meal. Sleeping so your body can rest and be strong for your purpose of seeing people turn to God. Reading things that will fuel the desire to see people saved. Non-fiction devotional books where someone else caught the bug and shared their passion or fiction books that illustrate metaphors for how God loves people and how much we need Him.

How would it feel if every step you took in your life brought you closer to the moment where you get to see God rescue another person? What if spending time with your family purposefully meant strengthening them to run the race? What if going to work meant another opportunity to show what a godly professional looks like?

How would running with purpose in every step look in your life? I’m looking to make a few adjustments so that I’m not just passively walking toward the finish line but I’m running in such a way that I might win. If you have a word or a book or a song or anything for me, please feel free to share!

Church Clothes

When I was a teenager, I had a hard time coming up with ways to rebel against my parents. Their rules weren’t unnecessarily restrictive. Anything I wasn’t allowed to do was pretty much just a bad idea and I didn’t really want to do bad stuff. I was (and still am) obsessed with God, the Bible, books about God/the Bible, books about people who loved God/the Bible, etc so I had a fairly strong internal moral compass. I mean, I dyed my hair once and argued a lot but overall, looking at the grand scheme of things teenagers do to rebel, it could have been worse.

One Sunday morning, I asked my mom why I had to dress up for church. (Note: it’s entirely possible she did not mean for this moment to be so influential in the way I see God and myself in the church. It is also possible that she thought I was trying to start a fight as I was wont to do)

She said we dress up for church because it’s God’s house and we want to look our best.

I had rehearsed a response for this answer. God doesn’t live at church. We go there to hang out with other people who like God and talk about Him. Theoretically, we have this personal relationship with God that allows us to be with Him at all times. I never dress up to go anywhere except to church. Why should I try to portray myself differently at church than I do anywhere else? It seems duplicitous of me to dress up “for God” when I don’t dress up any other time. It also seems silly to think God cares at all what we wear instead of the state of our hearts toward Him. Really, it seems like we dress up for other people.

Maybe because she was tired, maybe because she didn’t feel like fighting, but for whatever reason, she conceded that I didn’t have to wear a skirt if I didn’t want to. Let me be clear, I really, really, really, REALLY didn’t want to wear a skirt. That Sunday and for all the Sundays after it, I wore jeans and t-shirts and flip flops, daring the more conservative of my church family to say something. Occasionally someone would make a comment about my clothes and I usually retorted with the same question I asked my mom. Why shouldn’t I wear what I like? It’s not like God cares or anything. 

When I first moved to Oklahoma City, it had been years since I dressed up for church. I moved here with a closet full of mostly t-shirts and scrubs. The first Sunday I was here, I decided to dress up for church. It was really fun to have an excuse to wear a pretty dress and some cute shoes. I have continued that tradition almost every Sunday.

The church I attend is fairly conservative. One Sunday morning, I woke up and did not feel like wearing a dress. For half a second, I worried I would get the same awkward stares I had received as a kid in the church where I grew up. When I was younger, my parents were around to keep me from being an outcast in church. Now that job has fallen to me.

I put on my favorite t-shirt and jeans and headed out the door. When I got to church, I walked in and the same guy who stands at the door greeted me as always. I sat down in Sunday School and chatted with the same people I always talk to.

Not one person looked at me sideways or said a single thing about the clothes I was wearing.

That makes me so happy I chose the church I did. I never want to be a part of a community that would change the way it looks at me based on what I decide to wear. It’s great to know that no matter what I look like, those people will always care about me.

I understand that some people still see church as a formal event but I don’t think it needs to be. I still like having an excuse to wear cute shoes but I don’t feel like I have to put on something nice for church and immediately change out of it afterward.

As a human being, I’m allowed to wear a t-shirt to Sunday morning church and a dress to the grocery store if I so choose.

I like that I’d get more sideways looks and curious stares from wearing a formal dress in Walmart than I would from wearing a t-shirt to church.

Spring break is over!

Today was the best day I’ve had in weeks, mainly because I got back into the classroom. Spring break was nice to have some time to chill and sleep and do all the other things I’ve been unable to do this semester but I’m really glad to get back to it.

On Mondays, the family that helps me out has to leave a little bit early. Normally, not a big deal because their help is invaluable. Today, I was a little sad to be leaving so early because as tiring as they are, I really like being around the kids.

As I was leaving, one of the kids caught me and asked where I was going and if I wanted to stay and play with them.

Of course, I want to stay and play!

So for a little more than an hour, we played HARD. I picked them up and swung them around and helped them do flips. It was the best upper body work out I’ve had since Africa!

We talked very little, mostly because I don’t speak Burmese but we all speak the language of tickling and piggy back rides. A certain 6 year old Burmese friend was helping me out. I’ve written about her before here. While riding on my back, girl who does not come to the classroom but lives in the community remarked “You look like a boy” casually. I told her “I don’t look like a boy, I look like a girl with short hair.” My little helper swung down from a tree branch and said “Yeah, girls can look any way they want to.”

This little girl, so concerned with being beautiful and having her work appreciated, is learning to recognize that there is not just one definition for what girls are supposed to look like! A lesson I believe many adults could stand to learn as well.

Amazing Grace

“When we’ve been there ten thousand years/bright shining as the sun/ we’ve no less days to sing God’s praise/than when we first begun.”

Today, I listened to a recording of 190 Kenyan children singing this song and, as always, it warmed my heart and misted my eyes. I look forward to the day when I sing it with them again. In my mind, that day comes when I return to Africa. It will be hot outside but we’ll sit in the chapel and a cool breeze with blow through the open windows and we’ll sing until the sun goes down. Then we’ll pray and hear a word from one of the older kids and then sing some more.

But even that will come to an end. Even when we first arrived in Kenya, we all knew it would be short lived. If I ever get the chance to go back, there will always be a plane ticket with a return date stamped on it. There will always come a day when it will end.

Even if I move to whatever far reaches of the world God calls me to, people move and change and every day is new and different from the day before. Nothing lasts forever.

However, when we get to heaven, there will be no more expiration dates, no more plane tickets. My brothers and sisters from all over the world, past, present, and future, will join with me and we will sing praises for all of eternity. Even after thousands of years together, we will have no less time to spend than the day we first began.

I hope I get to see them again before that, but even so, I’m happy to have eternity to look forward to.

The Secret

“I know how to live on almost nothing or with everything. I have learned the secret of living in every situation, whether it is with a full stomach or empty, with plenty or little.” Philippians 4:12

The fun thing about verses the people often memorize, like Philippians 4:13, is that we often forget about the verses surrounding it.

I first became an adult in Michigan. I had my first full-time job, I paid bills and taxes, and considered myself mostly independent. I had enough money to cover everything I needed and most of what I wanted. I was living with plenty but somehow not satisfied.

Then I moved to Oklahoma and felt like I was living on nothing. I relied on the kindness of family and friends until I got a job that seems to only ever cover rent and bills with very little wiggle room.

Then I went to Africa and met people who were actually living on nothing. My friends, brothers and sisters in Christ, so full of joy with mostly empty bellies, showed me the tiniest hint of living on nothing. They rely on God for EVERYTHING. I mean, in America, I say I rely on God for everything but I pretty much know that if I’m hungry, there are some green beans in the cupboard and probably some frozen chicken breasts in the freezer so I’m covered for dinner. I don’t need to ask God where my next meal is coming from because He’s already provided it. God has my every need anticipated to the point that I feel like I’m doing it myself sometimes. 

But my African brothers and sisters know what it is to ask God for dinner. They know that it is God and only Him who answers their prayers and meets their every need. Nothing happens except by the grace of God. Every breath comes from Heaven and the joy they experience from that kind of connection with God is enviable.

After the smallest taste, I came back to my life of plenty and I won’t lie, I had a hard time adjusting. I actually didn’t want to adjust. I still don’t like it. I don’t want to feel comfortable with all my stuff. I don’t want to feel good about all the food sitting in my kitchen that has a chance to expire before I get around to eating it.

I have read the verse I opened this post with numerous times, always in the context of gratitude and contentment with my stuff and occasionally, the lack of it. Something I hadn’t noticed before is how Paul refers to learning to live with plenty and with little. It’s a secret. Just one. There is one secret to learn. There’s not a different trick for living with plenty than for living with little.

The secret is in the oft quoted verse 13. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. The focus is not on the stuff. The focus is on Christ. The secret to being content with little, even knowing some people have plenty is to focus on Christ. The secret to being content with having plenty, even knowing some people have little is to focus on Christ.

There’s a theory in psychology called “Maslow’s hierarchy of needs.” It suggests that people need to have base needs met, like food and breathing, before they can move to the next level of concern, like personal safety and health. Once those needs are satisfied, they can concern themselves with friendship and love, then self-esteem and respect. At the top of the pyramid is morality and creativity.

This theory is utter foolishness. It suggests an elemental “otherness” about people in poverty that is simply not true; that people in poverty are not concerned with love or respect or morality. I know for a fact and have seen first hand people who do not have food or personal safety but love more passionately than anyone else. Then consider celebrities who obviously have food, safety, love, and respect but lack any sense of morality.

The problem with thinking this way puts way too much focus on the stuff. When I went to Africa, all I saw at first was their lack of stuff. Fortunately, their astounding love overwhelmed me and blessed me beyond measure. When I came home, I had the mistaken idea that the only way to love like that and to feel God dripping from every moment like that, was to not have stuff like them.

It’s a materialistic idea on which we base almost all advertisements. If you have the right stuff, your life will be the way you want it. Only this time, reversed. I figured lacking the right stuff would make my life the way I wanted it. Both ideas are wrong.

Don’t get me wrong, I definitely need less stuff. I definitely need to not buy any more food until I use the food I have. I definitely don’t need to buy any more clothes or shoes. But the stuff isn’t the problem or the solution.

God is. The reason their lives were so rich and full wasn’t because their lack of stuff caused them to focus on Christ. They focused on Christ and he provided for their needs. They relied on Christ for their strength. That’s the secret. I don’t need to have less stuff or more stuff or any stuff. I just need Christ. Realizing that as my central need, and everything else as blessings, is the secret to contentment.

Relying on Christ for strength and happiness and wholeness is all I need. My stuff, or occasional lack there of, only clouds my vision because it causes me to focus on the blessings instead of the God who richly blesses.

Marked 2012

Today, I got to go to Marked, an annual event that spotlights social justice efforts in Oklahoma City and around the world. It was amazing, of course. There were groups for everything from clean water in Burma to an orphanage in Kenya to an outreach group for strippers.

The breakout sessions were also phenomenal. I choose three. One for local awareness of human trafficking (Did you know the 3 highways that intersect in Oklahoma City make it a huge area for trafficking and prostitution?). One was presented by Compassion International and mainly focused on how individuals can make a difference in places where women really have no hope. The last one was presented by a woman who worked with a huge farm in Kenya that supplies rice to the Kenyan government and will soon be branching out to Nigeria and possibly other countries in the future. The company has a special focus on employing women and there is a beautiful cycle of mentorship going on.

My favorite session has to be hearing from Scott Werner of Compassion International. Scott has had the opportunity to travel to many different places but spoke today about Kenya and working with women in Kibera, the largest slum in Africa. Scott said so many things that touched my heart and I found myself sitting 3 feet away from him with tears streaming down my face for the large portion of the time he spoke. It was wonderful to hear that someone else had “family” in Kenya the way I have “family” there.

Something occurred to me. Since I got home, I have found myself reduced to tears many times. It’s something I’ve just had to get used to since returning from Africa. It’s been two months and I keep saying “maybe someday I’ll make it through a Sunday without crying but today is not that day.” I had it as a goal thinking that if I could keep it together and stop crying over things I can’t change, that would mean I wasn’t heartbroken anymore. Today, that goal changed.

Maybe the point isn’t to stop crying. Maybe the point is to feel and break and grow stronger. Breaking down only hurts if you have to fall, but when I’m resting in the arms of Christ, I’m not carrying myself. Feeling for my sisters in Kenya is not the same as breaking down when my feelings are in line with what God feels. Tears flowed upon hearing about God’s heart in Kenya because I feel that same heart beating in my chest. It’s not a sign of damage, it’s a sign of growth.

Anyone who has ever started an exercise regimen can tell you that starting is the worst part. You lungs hurt and your whole body aches and it takes a long time for those muscles to get used to working the way you want. Compassion is the same way. Loving people the way God loves them hurts at first and it apparently requires no less than two weeks nearly unable to get out of bed because of the way your heart has been torn. God’s heart is big. It takes time to adjust.

When working a muscle, the way it gets stronger is by breaking. Tiny tears occur in the muscle and they become sore but those tears are where the muscle will be the strongest when it heals. My heart was ripped open wide by my babies in Uganda and my sisters in Kenya. It breaks my heart to think of never seeing them again. But I love them anyway. I will not let myself stop loving them even though it may hurt. They are worth it. They are valuable and deserve to be remembered and cared about.

Today, hearing about Kenya and tearing just a little bit more showed me that crying doesn’t mean breaking and breaking doesn’t mean falling. I keep surrounding myself with social justice, activism, and people who love helping people because I want my compassion for people to be strong and like strengthening any muscle, it has to be exercised.

Hopefully, I will never make it through a week without finding some way to stretch myself to care more, love more, and hope more.
Hopefully, I will never walk into my classroom full of refugee kids and forget where they’ve come from and how much of a miracle it is to work with them.
Hopefully, I will never stop falling in love with countries and people groups with such reckless abandon.

Hopefully, compassion will become my strongest muscle.