i interrupt this silence with an important message… 15.November.2009

Church lasted half an hour today, and since we were fifteen minutes late, it lasted fifteen minutes for us.  Pastor Pete preached on love — the kind of love by which people will know we are disciples of Jesus.  We didn’t know it was coming, but at the end of his message, Pete asked our church to help fill the local food banks.  Metrocrest Food Pantry was full at the beginning of last week; today it is empty.  There is need.  And the body of Jesus Christ — we are the need-fillers. 

Ushers handed out a little paper, mapping out nearby grocery stores and a list of most needed items at the food bank.  We all huddled together and said, “Break!”  And then we were commissioned to storm the local grocery stores to shop for the people who can’t afford to shop for themselves. We’re taking food to an empty parking lot, where trucks are sitting until mid-afternoon today, being loaded up to take the food where it needs to go.

About ten area churches partnered with ours in this effort to feed the hungry.  It is not only our church, but the Church.  The hands and feet of Jesus do not keep themselves within the walls of a church building, or even within the walls of a denomination.  Tonight, we are praising Jesus together.

I just had to tell you because I had this surge of excitement to really be part of feeding the hungry right now.  Not next month, or next year, when I’ve gotten my act together and my theology on giving all straightened out.  But now, together with my brothers and sisters.

I wonder what it would look like for the Church in every city — big and small – to break out their wallets and feed the hungry, on the count of one… two… three.  Would it endanger hunger itself?

finally, some political conclusions 3.November.2008

“Never underestimate the power of a few committed people to change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has” (Margaret Mead).
Foreword:  I wish I had the time and energy to respond to each of you separately, but again, I can only thank you for the time and thought you put into your responses to my last post.  It all was food for thought.  Some of it angered me; some of it challenged and changed my convictions; all of it was appreciated.  I believe such candid discussions bless and refine our communities.
Thanks to Jill’s link to Jim Wallis’s article on listing one’s own “faith priorities,” I have made my own list of non-negotiables — issues of faith that I believe should not be compromised in politics.  It’s this list that’s guiding me as I go into the voting booth tomorrow.  I come at most of my faith priorities from an obviously Christian viewpoint, but I have realized that no candidate can fulfill all of the items on my wishlist.  Jesus could, I think, or at least He could change my mind to see where I’ve misread His priorities.  I foolishly maintain that Jesus is the answer for everybody everywhere, and the only reason we can’t figure out how to run a nation with perfection is because we don’t have enough of Him and His philosophy.  (Speaking of Jesus, I really want to read Shane Claiborne and Chris Haw’s book Jesus for President: Politics for Ordinary Radicals as soon as possible!)
My Non-Negotiables

1. A pro-life perspective.  On war, abortion, and life-threatening diseases, I will support a presidential candidate who not only protects the life of the unborn without reservation, but also protects the lives of its citizens, even those in the military.  While military troops may be willing to give their life, I believe a President should only risk those lives if absolutely necessary, and furthermore will not abuse his power by choosing to go to war without the proper support of the other branches of government.  Life threatening diseases are of particular concern in third-world countries, and I will support a presidential candidate who makes foreign aid (either through the government or through the American people) a priority.  I also believe that the death penalty should be abolished because I believe in forgiveness and redemption.

2. Care for the weak.  Based on many verses scattered throughout Deuteronomy, the Psalms and verses like Luke 3.11 (“[Jesus] answereth and saith unto them, He that hath two coats, let him impart to him that hath none; and he that hath meat, let him do likewise.”), it’s obvious God cares for the widow, the orphan, and the poor.  He asks me to care for these groups of people regardless of how much they deserve it.  They do not supersede His importance (see Mark 14.7), but especially now that Christ is not with us in flesh, we are called to represent Him to the poor, the widows and orphans, and to all the world.  God cares about those with little strength, and I can support a candidate who respects God’s perspective in this.

3. Freedom.  As a Christian, I find true freedom through Christ, but insofar as the Constitution claims to protect its citizens’ “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” (as well as some other freedoms), I will support a candidate who will uphold these rights.  Specific freedoms on my mind (by no means exhaustive) are the freedom of speech (so that I may spread the gospel) and the freedom of homosexuals to marry.  American freedoms should only be limited when they endanger another person’s freedom (as in the needful arrest of a criminal).

4.  Environmental care.  The earth is the Lord’s; we are its stewards.  I will support a candidate who does not promote further tearing down of God’s Creation, but allows it to be sustained and nurtured.

5. Inclusiveness.  This concept mainly deals with immigration.  If our nation is to live by moral, just principles, we should embrace those who wish to join our social experiment.  Deuteronomy 10.18 says, “[God]… shows His love for the alien by giving him food and clothing.”  We need a nation that will allow this type of open door philosophy.

6. Cultural regeneration.  Political officials should applaud healthy family values and the necessity of quality education over economics.  I will support a candidate who does this.

Choosing a Candidate
I’ve come to a conclusion whom to vote for, by the way.  Want to know who it is?  Well, my friend Tami sent me a few notes after my original political post, assuring me that a vote cast for a third-party candidate would not be wasted.  She gently introduced me to Chuck Baldwin, a Constitutional party presidential candidate endorsed by my old favorite, Ron Paul.  Baldwin is a little unrefined, his website unpolished, and has held no government office.  He fails to mention poverty or the environment on his site, which bothered (bothers) me.

But he has some interesting things to say about abortion:

“Republicans tout themselves as being “pro-life.” Yet, the GOP controlled both houses of Congress and the White House for six years and did absolutely nothing to overturn Roe or end abortion-on-demand. If the Republicans were really serious about being pro-life they could have already ended legal abortion in America. Obviously the Republican Party and most GOP politicians are not serious about ending abortion, but are, regrettably, simply content to perpetuate the issue to manipulate pro-life voters.

Under my administration, we could end legal abortion in a matter of days, not decades. And if Congress refuses to pass Dr. Paul’s bill, I will use the constitutional power of the Presidency to deny funds to protect abortion clinics. Either way, legalized abortion ends when I take office.”

Having read that, I was wondering: What exactly is the saving grace for the Republican party, if, as Baldwin claims, the pro-life agenda is only a campaign point for them? If McCain will cut my taxes, won’t Baldwin, as a small-government, unbending Constitutionalist, cut them more?

And so my thinking spiraled into a series of what if questions:

• What if I had more money to give to the world’s poor, or to give to the perpetuation of the gospel message, or to give to the building of a more environmentally just future?  Would my dollar — and the dollars of those who care for social justice — stretch further than if it were in the hands of the government in the form of taxes?
• What if there were more competition in the health sector?  Would natural health remedies be more common and celebrated?  Would necessary prescription drugs be more fairly priced?
• What if “we are the ones we’ve been waiting for?   What if “we are the change that we seek?”  If volunteerism and “every man for his neighbor” were philosophies that began to blossom throughout our country, would we need the government to do the jobs of poverty-fighting and carbon-taxing?

And then on the flip side, I wondered:

• Isn’t Constitutionalism a bit ruthless?  Without the regulation of the government, won’t Americans all the more seek their plastic castles at the lowest price possible?  Won’t they cease to care about how their food is produced, or from whom their oil comes?

But it turns out I believe in the triumph of good over evil (I know, I know, that’s a big, assuming statement!).  I really do believe in grassroots movements to spread messages of love and change.  I believe that by picking trash up in the park, I have done my part in reducing the need for government (and I’ve taught my son something about caring for the gift of nature).  I have hope that our nation’s financial struggles and health crises and embarrassment of an educational system will be recognized through the voices of the passionate.  New remedies can be sought be more easily when freedom is at its height.

So, in the end, Chuck Baldwin will get my vote tomorrow, for a few reasons:

1.  I like the idea of voting for a third-party candidate.  If we look toward the future, hoping for a party that conforms more accurately to our political priorities, one of the best ways to make that happen is to stop voting for the Big Elephant or the Big Donkey, and vote for a human instead.  (Please don’t take offense at my facetiousness!)

2. I believe in the power of average citizens (and especially those powered by Christ) to bring about change.

3. I can vote for Baldwin with the least guilt, given my “faith priorities.”
How Baldwin Meets My Priorities

It is a little difficult to go into depth on how Baldwin specifically fulfills all of these (or even most of them), since many of these “faith priorities” have been placed under my responsibility because his Constitutional ideals.  Protection of life (priority 1) and freedom (priority 3) are two cases over which I have little to no control as a citizen, and Baldwin’s presidential plan takes these into consideration.  As for the others, I will try to create a picture of how most of these priorities can be played out under his presidency.

1. A pro-life perspective.  Baldwin is unapologetically against abortion, protecting the life of the unborn baby.  He also firmly stands against engaging in wars that do not directly endanger the rights of the American people.  He says, “‘Supporting the troops’ means putting their interests and America’s interests first and not in needlessly endangering them by engaging in ‘policeman of the world’ military adventures all over the world.”  I believe this is an important “pro-life” stance to hold.  As for exercising a pro-life stand in regard to life-threatening diseases here and around the world, I believe that Constitutionalism has the potential to make the greatest impact on eradicating HIV/AIDS, malaria, tuberculosis, starvation, and other life-threatening conditions.  Try this on for size:  Barack Obama pledges to double foreign aid from $25 billion to $50 billion dollars by 2012 — a commendable goal.  But for the 300 million Americans to meet the same financial goal without the government as the go-between, each citizen would have to give only $166 per year.  A pipe dream?  Not if taxes were significantly relieved.  Not if this modest goal were perpetuated by a small group of committed people.

2. Care for the weak.  Again, Baldwin’s plans calls for the citizens to tend to these issues, rather than the government.  So, in a way, I’m voting for myself to get this done.  But with Darrell Castle (the vice-presidential candidate) as the founder of an organization which ministers to homeless gypsy children in Romania, I’m hopeful that care for the weak is a priority that will be supported by a Baldwin presidency.

3. Freedom.  Chuck Baldwin’s Constitutionalism sounds like the best plan I’ve heard to protect an individual’s right to freedom –for protection against slavery, for protection of rights for homosexuals, for choice and competition in education, the right to eat as one desires, etc.  His plan gives no special rights to anyone, but protects each citizen equally.

4. Environmental care.  While I think a carbon tax like Obama proposes could reduce the negative impact Americans have on the environment, it may not teach them to care about nature or understand its role in our lives.  Baldwin doesn’t address the environment specifically, but my hope is that his Constitutionalist message would increase competition for farmers, stop the subsidizing of single-crop farming (read: corn!), and promote organic, sustainable agriculture.

5. Inclusiveness.  On immigration reform, Baldwin is a bit tough on illegals, as my friend Tami warned me.  While I agree that there have to be restrictions and laws in place to protect American citizens, to ship all illegals back to their respective countries (as Baldwin wants to do) would be unnecessary if they are willing to go through the proper procedures.  Baldwin welcomes legal immigrants.  I admit Baldwin comes short of the mark on this priority.

6. Cultural regeneration.  As far as I have seen, Chuck Baldwin supports and models healthy family values.  Baldwin’s plan for education is to eradicate the Department of Education and do away with public schooling.  Can you imagine that?  He argues that the Constitution doesn’t give the government power over education, and that privatizing education would improve its quality.  I would love to be part of this experiment!
Some Final Thoughts

Some of Chuck Baldwin’s ideas seem far-fetched, and I admit, I can’t imagine living the United States he describes.  But if it happens, I want to be a part of it.  To avoid the ruthlessness of having a smaller government, to prevent the public from destroying itself, I believe Constitutionalism calls on the Christian church and other concerned and caring citizens to promote principles of health and life and love to those who are less fortunate.  In fact, I believe that’s the only way Constitutionalism will work.  We cannot look at Constitutionalism as “every man for himself” but as “every man for his neighbor.”  That’s the kind of nation I want to live in.  And that’s what I’m voting for tomorrow.

But (ding!) let me just wake up to reality and admit that Chuck Baldwin will not win tomorrow.  I still refuse to fear either the Republican or Democrat candidate.  I do not agree enough with either of them to give them my vote, but I will give them my prayers and support.  My sister Rachel posted a blog article called “Religion and Politics”, in which she shared the main points from her pastor’s sermon on Sunday.  For a Christian in this election, her thoughtful post was such good news.  To borrow her pastor’s final questions:

• Where is your hope?
• Are you going into Tuesday with fear or faith?
• Most of all, is this fear or faith stoking your desire to go into the world with the gospel?

Finally, after a lot of stressful reading and pondering, I’m happy with my answers to those questions.

a proverbs 31 wannabe 7.August.2008

I read Proverbs 31.10-31 as much as any chapter in the Bible.  Maybe it’s because that’s my lot in life right now — a homemaker, a home organizer, the female force of our family (nice alliteration, eh?).  And it motivates me to see the beauty that this woman makes of her family’s home.  The people around her are more whole because of her.

Tonight I read The Message version for the first time:

A good woman is hard to find,
and worth far more than diamonds.

Her husband trusts her without reserve,
and never has reason to regret it.
Never spiteful, she treats him generously all her life long.

She shops around for the best yarns and cottons,
and enjoys knitting and sewing.

She’s like a trading ship that sails to faraway places
and brings back exotic surprises.

She’s up before dawn,
preparing breakfast for her family
and organizing her day.

She looks over a field and buys it,
then, with money she’s put aside,
plants a garden.

First thing in the morning, she dresses for work,
rolls up her sleeves, eager to get started.

She senses the worth of her work,
is in no hurry to call it quits for the day.

She’s skilled in the crafts of home and hearth,
diligent in homemaking.

She’s quick to assist anyone in need,
reaches out to help the poor.

She doesn’t worry about her family when it snows;
their winter clothes are all mended and ready to wear.
She makes her own clothing,
and dresses in colorful linens and silks.

Her husband is greatly respected
when he deliberates with the city fathers.

She designs gowns and sells them,
brings the sweaters she knits to the dress shops.
Her clothes are well-made and elegant,
and she always faces tomorrow with a smile.

When she speaks she has something worthwhile to say,
and she always says it kindly.

She keeps an eye on everyone in her household,
and keeps them all busy and productive.

Her children respect and bless her;
her husband joins in with words of praise:
“Many women have done wonderful things,
but you’ve outclassed them all!”

Charm can mislead and beauty soon fades.
The woman to be admired and praised
is the woman who lives in the Fear-of-God.
Give her everything she deserves!
Festoon her life with praises!

Be silent, you feminists.  This is as high of a calling as they come.  Would I could be to my family what this woman is to hers.

The only problem is, I look at this portrait and think: Is she real?  Is this even possible? Shouldn’t I, as a daughter of the Almighty, a temple of the Spirit, be able to pull off a decent fraction of these qualities?  But instead, I get about one thing done a day.  I “make about a dollar” (to quote Donald Miller in Blue Like Jazz).

The time is swallowed up by some faceless behemoth, and I am left at 12.09a.m. in the darkness, typing, hoping that by some drizzle of grace, I can do better tomorrow.

two poems on neighborliness 11.July.2008

I have loved this poem since high school:

A Time to Talk
Robert Frost

When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don’t stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven’t hoed,
And shout from where I am, What is it?
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.

And here is a poem from me:

Breakfast

I gave a bashful grin when
the elderly gentleman down the street
read my invitation aloud:
“A Breakfast with Neighbors.”
But today he brings me a loaf of bread –
“Banana/Raisin/Date/Nut Bread”–
the title taped perfectly atop
my foil-wrapped gift.

It is good bread,
best eaten with a heart full of joy.

And yesterday Karen came–
unannounced–
her hair cut short after her vacation.
In her adolescent awkwardness
she sat on my piano bench
and laughed at Isaiah with me.
She calls — and comes again–
to tell me she can watch Isaiah next week.

There is a woman in the park
who lets Isaiah pet her dog Trixie.
And I saw her today,
my stroller laden with groceries,
and I shouted, “Good morning!”
It was like belonging had just settled in.

We have conversations with neighbors–
shifting feet and quick glances,
hearts beating at the contact with humanity.

What is this grace,
washing over my hands,
my face,
my arms?
What is this grace,
trickling down my cheeks?

I hold the moments, trembling–
ashamed to fear that they will
slip away.

and who is my neighbor? 16.June.2008

I walk the streets outside my house.  They are dotted with strangers in cars.  The front doors of houses are usually silent and closed, window blinds drawn.  But the lawns are lush and green, telling me that there is life.  There must be.

Outside my window, in the vast expanse of my suburb, families live.  I live inside my house for more hours of the day than I live anywhere else.  And only yards away, living in their house, is another family I have never met.   

When we moved into the neighborhood, I baked extra Christmas goodies and hand-delivered them to the four houses adjacent to ours.  This was something I had wanted to do for years,  and I finally mustered up the courage.  My neighbors surprised me by not being scary, by not having a hood over their eyes, with a cold, lifeless hand extended to take their cookies.  No one slammed a door in my face.  All of them were friendly, you know?  With every neighbor, we had this thing called a conversation.  They were people.

But with the exception of one family, whose daughter we asked to come babysit for Isaiah two times, we have not had another conversation since then.  It has been almost six months.

Does that make your heart sink with emptiness as it does mine?

Why have we as Americans chosen to live in such an isolated and isolating manner, estranging ourselves from the people who live right next to us?  Mrs. Pivec at Golightly Place posted on a related topic last week.  I encourage you to read her post, including her comment in response to mine.

In America, it is no longer mind-boggling to travel to the other end of the country in a matter of hours.  We have this group of people called commuters – those who drive often insane distances to work every day.  In choosing a church, distance is hardly on the top of our list of deciding factors. 

When Kyle and I first moved to a new state, we drove over three hours to church every Sunday.  (Yes, that was one way.)  It drained us every week, but we were convinced that keeping denominational ties was worth it.  I told inquiring friends that some people in third-world countries no doubt walk more than three hours to a church on Sunday, so I surely shouldn’t count the drive a burden.  I love the people in that little church, and while I don’t suggest church seekers throw all scrutiny of doctrine to the wind, I do regret not having learned how to step out of my comfort zone a little sooner in life.  What opportunities for touching lives were right outside my very door, while I insisted upon handpicking the people I would like to get to know?

Maybe this is why I hate surburbia.  Maybe this is why I want to get away.  It is not just that the houses are void of character, but also that they are full of strangers.

But maybe the quickest way to get away from a stranger is to make him your friend.

please care 9.June.2008

Please do not be nonchalant about the AIDS epidemic in Africa.  Please do not let yourself be ignorant about how it is crushing millions of families, millions of lives.

I just watched the 2004 film Yesterday, a drama in the Zulu language about a woman named Yesterday and her husband, both of whom contract HIV.  It’s heart-wrenching to see the disease take their life away.  Lesions break out on their skin.  They get weaker and weaker, wasting away until death.  Yesterday is determined to stay alive until her daughter, Beauty, goes to school, even in a town where the stigmas toward HIV victims cause her to be isolated in her struggle.

I know it’s just a movie.  But at AidsandAfrica.com, it says that 2.4 million Africans died from the disease in 2007 alone, and I know that for every single one of those people, there is a heartwrenching story of suffering and death.

Yesterday is slow-moving and has subtitles.  But the gripping story puts a face to the numbers.  I look at the numbers, and they overwhelm me.  What can I do against such devastation?  I don’t know.  I know that governments and drug companies and poverty stand in the way of bringing medication and education to those who are sick.  But governments and drug companies are only people.  They are not the strongest force.  When you know about HIV, it feels like sin to just sit back, shake your head, and say, “That’s sure unfortunate.”

I really don’t know what I’m going to do besides learning more, starting with websites like One.org.  Just as I learned more of the suffering in watching Yesterday, I need to learn more about how I can practically help out.  There are many kinds of suffering in the world.  This one… has gone too far.

faith questions 29.May.2008

I’m sitting in an interview at the Union Gospel Mission with a guy named Paul.  I have to be  interviewed to help the homeless.  Paul asks me why I believe what I believe.  I say, “The short answer is ‘faith.’”  But, I tell him, I feel the Spirit of Christ living within me.

I feel forgiven.  Paul lets me know a Buddhist or a Hindu or a Muslim or an atheist doesn’t care much about my feelings.  He asks me if I think truth is relative.  “No,” I say.  I’m thinking of Ravi Zacharias, and how he said when you’re told that truth is relative, to ask the other person if that’s a true statement.  It sounds better when he says it.  So instead, I mention the alliterative argument of C.S. Lewis in Mere Christianity, that Christ was either a lunatic, a liar, or the Lord.  I say that no one could make the claims about himself as Christ did unless he were crazy, flat-out lying, or… telling the truth.  I happen to believe Jesus, based on the Old Testament prophecies, I tell Paul.  That’s actually one of the best arguments I’ve ever come by.

But lest Paul think I need some Scripture references:  “I just keep thinking of the place in the Bible where Jesus says, ‘No man comes to the Father except by me.’”  That should explain why there can’t be any number of rivers (or religions) that flow to the one sea (God).

But Paul doesn’t like any of my answers, and I feel very small.  No one told me I had to be a theologian to help the homeless.  I’ve grown tired of nit-picking over the details of eternal security.  I wanted to just let all of that go, and live a life of simple faith — one that still believes everything Jesus said, but not one that reads more into it than what I see at face-value.

Then another blogger writes: “God doesn’t let people go to hell because they misspelled the name of Christ. God doesn’t let people go to hell because they were mis-informed. God doesn’t let people go to hell to ‘burn for eternity’ because their notion of God looked more like Mohammed, Buddha, or Kwan Yin.”  And I want to yell and scream and ask how he could be so deluded.

And then I remember I don’t have much of an argument either.

Paul says I need a logical defense of my faith.  He draws me a picture of man and God — God at the top of the paper, man at the bottom.  He says every human is born and dies; there are no exceptions (well, unless you count Elijah and Enoch).  For all our good efforts, we cannot reach God.  I remember the time I visited a mosque and I saw the men praying to a God who gave them no assurance of salvation.  They just had to keep doing good… and hope they would make it (maybe crossing their fingers was more like it).  Paul tells me that Jesus was a human not born in the natural way.  Being fully God and fully man, he lived perfectly and then died to take care of our incessant sin problem.  No other religion’s “guy” could do that for humans.

And I nod because that’s good enough for me.  Paul must think it’s good enough logic for everyone.

But I know it’s not.  It’s not good enough for my blogging friend Matches.  And I wonder if I can ever find a purely logical argument that will answer everyone’s questions.  Isn’t logic of such a nature that I should be able to plug it in like a formula?  Push a button — voila.  Or can I only pray that God will convince everybody of the parts of the story that will always sound illogical?  Am I deluded to expect God to reveal his own intricacies to those who don’t know him as the father of Christ Jesus?  Or if I genuinely believe Jesus is the best good news ever, won’t I naturally do everything in my brain and heart and will and physical power to learn and spread the news with complete clarity?

I want to blame somebody for my lack of defense.  “Well, I didn’t grow up with a particularly theological background.”  “My parents never made me learn it.”  But it’s not their faith.  It’s mine.  And somehow that intangible thing called faith has to come out through the tangible things – words and actions and human skin.

women of Spirit: three portraits 20.May.2008

I have often prayed for spiritual mentors — older women who just know how to love Jesus.  I thought my spiritual mentors would come in the form of wrinkled faces and saggy arms, hands that were agile in the kitchen and in the garden.  I expected gentle counsel on how to potty train Isaiah, how to put him to bed at night, and how to get him to eat his vegetables.  I thought my mentors would be, like, 50 or 60 years old.

Instead, it turns out they’re my peers.  They’re women close to my age, women I developed acquaintance with quite by accident, or so it seemed at the time.  They go through their struggles with grace, inspiring me.  Sometimes I fear being too vocal about Christ on my blog.  I don’t want to turn away people who don’t believe in Him.  But to these women, life is Christ, and because of them, I am challenged never to treat Him as an appendage but rather as my breath and my heart and my soul, out of which comes all my other interests and passions and talents.

Rachel loves the Lord with seriousness and dedication.  She has been my sanity in this city where friends are so hard to come by.  She gives so much, blessing other women with the gift of community and fellowship.  She teaches her boys to love God, to have respect, to know right from wrong.  I have never seen her waver, never heard her badmouth someone, never watched her go bad on her word.  She’s solid, she’s faithful.

Danielle — she is amazing.  She’s packing up to move to Iraq as a missionary.  As I’ve learned to know her during her time in Dallas, she has been solely focused on spreading the gospel.  That is her reason for living.  She has had me pray about whether marriage should be part of her future, and she is determined to not marry anyone who is not equally compelled to preach the good news to all nations.  Her parents died last year in a flood, and she came through the turmoil believing that their heart for missions was the legacy they were passing on to her.  And so she’s leaving, quitting her high-paying job, to love the lost of Iraq.

And then there’s Jessica.  I barely know her, I’ll admit, though I hope that changes someday.  But as I read her blog, and she talks about her day and the little baby growing inside her and her love for her husband, I am just abudantly, exceedingly blessed to watch those parts of her life.  She loves the Lord.  She dedicates herself to developing the roles in which God has placed her, and she does it with joy.  She seems so excited to live with fulness of life, even if it’s in the middle of Nowhere, Kansas (you know, where I grew up).

These women give me hope — hope that messed up, wavering me can live with purpose.  Hope that maybe if I lift this dirty, colored glass up to the sun, Jesus can shine through me like he has through Rachel and Danielle and Jessica.  And hope that maybe I can be beautiful, too.

starbucks: a view from the inside 1.April.2008

I dream of having a coffee shop someday.  It’ll be my little love shop, where folks can’t help but come back, not only for the killer coffee and hot chocolate and baked good(nes)s, but just because they feel more at home there than they’ve ever felt anywhere.  I hadn’t known much about coffee, though, until lately.  Well, I knew what my husband had told me, which he learned from a friend.  I’m not sure where his friend learned it.

We’ve been thinking lately that a little extra income from my working a few evenings a week could help offset our oncoming adoption costs.  And, you know, while I’m at it, I could do some first-hand research on the workings of a coffee house. 

So, I did something I never thought I’d do:  I applied at Starbucks.  But you see, my little shop is an independent shop, and Starbucks… well, it’s very well the antithesis of that.  It’s a behemoth of a company, with tens of thousands of stores worldwide.   And as for the skill of the baristas, while they may have started out with a passion for art in those first little Starbucks shops in Seattle, I hardly feel like an artist as I push the espresso button on our machines.  We get merchandise to sell — seasonal junk that’s available in any old Starbucks store.  You can chose one of six pretty gift cards if you want to give Starbucks drinks to a friend.  We have three cleaners to sanitize the store; nothing else is allowed.  There are rules and standards and drink formulas.

But it’s a great company; it really is.  Benefits are incredible.  The coffee beans really are some of the best in the business.  Every store in the nation shut down a few weeks ago to retrain the baristas on how to steam milk and calibrate the espresso machines so the drinks will come out a little closer to perfect.  It’s a well-oiled machine, even when you’re on the inside.  And Starbucks has a globally sensitive perspective, too, selling Ethos water to build clean-water wells and offering fairly traded coffee so the growers get good payment for their labor.  I guess I expected the best.

Having just sprung onto the environmentalist bandwagon, I was floored to start working at a store that recycled precisely nothing.  Hundreds of empty milk cartons and unused paper and plastic cups travel from our store to the landfill every week.  And the milk itself is another tricky thing:  once steamed milk gets below a certain temperature, it’s down the drain.  The pastries that look so appealling in that shiny glass case don’t actually sell out and get eaten.  The leftovers go… in the trash.

It made me sick the first week.  I loathed the posters of foreign children, so joyful that Starbucks gave them clean water.  I wondered how many more children would be affected by the waste from all the plastic water bottles, since only five or ten cents of the $1.80 it costs to buy the bottle of water actually goes toward the building of wells.  I wondered about the 95% of coffee growers who aren’t represented by the one type of coffee that boasts the “Fair Trade Coffee” stamp (Cafe Estima blend). 

And I kept finding that no one really cared besides me.  When I protested that I didn’t want to practice making drinks that weren’t going to be consumed, people kept telling me: “It’s in the budget.”  But what if it weren’t in the budget?  Think how many more clean water wells you could build!  Think how many more coffee growers you could rescue from a lifetime of poverty?

I started taking leftover pastries to Union Gospel Mission in Dallas, where they’ll be served to homeless men for breakfast.  I started taking the leftover newspapers to my own recycling bin at home.  I’d take milk cartons, but I fear I’d run out of space in about a day.

But I know there’s hope.  One of my superiors said he wanted to present a proposal to start recycling at our store.  He asked me to write down my thoughts on recycling, so he could present it at the next staff meeting.  Whatever he meant by that, I’m all over it.  I plan to research just how much waste our store puts out every year.  Another reason to hope is that we just got more ceramic plates and mugs to offer our customers in place of disposable cups and paper pastry bags.  I can’t help but think that this will dramatically improve customer satisfaction as well as saving trees and landfill space.

And I can’t forget about the love.  I don’t know if anyone at work has read my training notebook, but I wrote that one of my goals for the first three months was to love every customer.  It’s so easy to forget.  I push my register buttons, make my formulaic drinks, and turn my “smile” knob.  “Thanks for the buck; have a nice day.”  But I think learning to love is the real training.  I’ve learned all a certified barista needs to know about coffee and cleaning up the cafe, and I’ve got a pin to prove it.  But have I got what it takes to run my little love shop, to make a lasting impact in this hurting world?  If I can save ten newspapers as I walk out the door, I can just as easily pass out ten words of kindness and healing.

Training isn’t over yet.

an announcement, of sorts 27.March.2008

I dream of Ethiopia, where in a city near Addis Ababa, a woman’s abdomen swells with the life inside her.  She wrestles with the attachment she has to the small, kicking being.  It’s too late now.  She never wanted to be attached, knowing motherhood will be torn from her.  But she gave away her heart long ago.  She hates the trials that will steal her dreams.  Even in sickness and poverty, she tries to keep dreaming… of hope and a future.

I will carry her baby in my arms.  I will be the one to soothe its cries, to watch it grow.  Her baby will learn to speak… not Amharic, but English.  I doubt the woman’s baby will grow up knowing what poverty and war and fear of illness feel like.  But I pray for strength to teach it what it needs to know of love, of hunger for justice, of God, and of its birth mother.

 All the days of her life, she will remember her child.  The questions and the pain and the attachment will not end as she hands over her baby.

 And I resolve not to forget her either.

*          *          * 

“45 million orphans:  I find the numbers utterly numbing.  Some 25 million Africans are infected with HIV, and only a tiny fraction has access to the expensive, lifesaving medicines.  When you add AIDS orphans to those left parentless by TB, malaria, malnourishment, drouoght, and war, the result is 45 million orphans.

“Wealthy countries must try to solve the AIDS orphan crisis with aid, fair trade, and debt relief.  Simply put: The world has to keep parents alive to stop orphaning kids.

“Adoption is not the solution.  It affects less than 1000th of 1 percent of African orphans.  But it is truly a miracle in the life of one child, and a marvelous way for a family to grow….” -Melissa Fay Greene