Poverty has a face. I've seen it and lived in and around it. She has hands and feet and an empty belly. He has a laugh and tears and lives under a bridge. These people have names and their faces flash through my mind on a regular basis.
When I was naive about the concept of Poverty, life was easier. I could spend my money without thought of others. I could live my life with seemingly no consequences to others. I could function in our modern society without feeling isolated and strange.
Now when I bring up the subject that pulses through my veins, I'm greeted by blank faces and defensiveness. If you want to throw a wet blanket on any situation talk about poverty. It's the conversation killer of all time. When I've asked God to break my heart for what breaks his, I had no idea how isolating it could feel. Now I'm plagued by actually caring. There are people out on this planet by the masses suffering and dying and I CARE. I haven't fully walked in their shoes (for those that have them) but I've sat next to them. Bandaged a few wounds. Prayed for their healing. Listened to their dreams.
In the mix of the holidays I am greeted by these flashbacks. I've been out THERE long enough now that the emotions and experiences have fully stuck. I can't escape the full reality of our brothers and sisters around the world under layers of comfort, entertainment, and ignorance.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
Birth pains
Wait just a second... I think I'm having another 'ah ha!' moment. It's birth pains. All this craziness of the last 3 years and 3 loops around the earth combined with my current state of again asking 'who am I and where am I going?' are birth pains. Something good is coming of my little life, I can feel it. I've felt this season before. It's where I question everything, feel God is a little distant, and am not sure if I'm moving forward or simply running circles in my mind.
The most confusing part of my year is when my worlds collide. After I've spent so much time abroad, holding loosely to my own traditions and being flexible with those around me, I return to Nashville, Tennessee, and hit reverse culture shock. During my time away I've changed. People around me don't necessarily notice it right away and I myself don't know what subtle changes have taken place. Often it's years later that I can see the full impact that international experiences have had on my life.
In the meantime I'm left a bit dumb and mute. I have heart tremors that mix the deep desires to share my stories knowing full well that most people I talk to will never be able to relate. I'll watch a child in the States refuse to eat the many many things placed graciously before them by their over-accommodating parents while having flashbacks of malnourished, barely alive children in the slums of India. How do I cope with this?
Somewhere I linger in limbo my first few weeks of being home. The over-abundance of the USA slowly creeps back into my vein and again I feel fat, dumb, and happy. So many elements of our comfortable, convenient lifestyles threaten to make all those challenging moments I've had in dirty, impoverished areas of our earth disappear. For a while I hang between the two worlds seeing both of them clearly and not sure how they can actually co-exist. I try with desperation, not knowing what words to use, to stretch my arms between these extremes and somehow make them connect. How can I shake these first and third world nations to enter into relationships and enrich one another with their beautiful forms of wealth and resources? Their is an amazing exchange that can take place here. HOW to go about it is my current life question.
The most confusing part of my year is when my worlds collide. After I've spent so much time abroad, holding loosely to my own traditions and being flexible with those around me, I return to Nashville, Tennessee, and hit reverse culture shock. During my time away I've changed. People around me don't necessarily notice it right away and I myself don't know what subtle changes have taken place. Often it's years later that I can see the full impact that international experiences have had on my life.
In the meantime I'm left a bit dumb and mute. I have heart tremors that mix the deep desires to share my stories knowing full well that most people I talk to will never be able to relate. I'll watch a child in the States refuse to eat the many many things placed graciously before them by their over-accommodating parents while having flashbacks of malnourished, barely alive children in the slums of India. How do I cope with this?
Somewhere I linger in limbo my first few weeks of being home. The over-abundance of the USA slowly creeps back into my vein and again I feel fat, dumb, and happy. So many elements of our comfortable, convenient lifestyles threaten to make all those challenging moments I've had in dirty, impoverished areas of our earth disappear. For a while I hang between the two worlds seeing both of them clearly and not sure how they can actually co-exist. I try with desperation, not knowing what words to use, to stretch my arms between these extremes and somehow make them connect. How can I shake these first and third world nations to enter into relationships and enrich one another with their beautiful forms of wealth and resources? Their is an amazing exchange that can take place here. HOW to go about it is my current life question.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Sicily
Quality is a word that keeps coming to mind here in Sicily. It is as if the best characteristics of the French and the best characteristics of the Germans blended together and became Italy. You have the passion, romance, and moment-to-moment enjoyment of life blended with perfectionism, intelligence, and pursuit of the best in every arena. Everything is done well. Be it a pastry, playing World Cup football (soccer), or a pair sunglasses, the goal will be pursued till it reaches it’s best possible state.
Now I will be the first to admit that I’m biased here. This is my inaugural journey to the motherland – Sicily. In 1918 my great-grandfather arrived in the United States via a boat. Like thousands of other immigrants, he came with little to no money armed only with his trade. Baton Rouge, Louisiana, was his choice location to settle and open his tailoring business. I knew him in his later years. Spending time in my great-grandfather's tailor shop were precious moments to me. I never knew what to expect, but always looked forward to time with my Italian Paw-Paw. There was a deep sense of pride in every suit he made and hem he stitched. As I would stand on the wooden box in front of the mirror in his shop he would move around me with his measuring tape chatting in Italian and making me a beautiful imaginary dress.
Paw-Paw refused to retire. He would have died with needle and thread in hand at his shop if we had let him. Against his will at the age of 94 the family ‘took away’ his drivers license. That was no happy day for him. Soon after the doors of his tailor shop were closed and he begrudgingly spent his days at home. At the age of 97 he passed away and with him went the old world trade of tailoring.
As I travel Sicilia, meet the people, eat the food – I am gaining much insight into my great-grandfather and my Italian heritage. The passion for the best things in life ran true through his veins. Being here is also helping me make sense of my strange affection for olive oil, garlic, and every other Mediterranean food. I would like to blame my Sicilian roots for my endless search for outstanding food.
Despite the language barrier, I’ve never felt so at home in another country. The way of life here makes sense to me. The people, the places, and the pace of life are strangely familiar. Little things like the abundance of Vespas, or coffee made rich and strong sets me to giggling to myself. It’s like all of my favorite things in life are actually part of a functioning society wherein these people all appreciate the same things! (Granted this is from a completely humanistic point of view…)
I can’t help but sit back and savor the perfection of the cannoli, the breeze of the sea, or the style of the Italians passing by.
In the midst of this, I am faced with my own American identity. The flipping of my flops is the first giveaway. Even my posture is a bit different. Have you ever noticed that? Americans have a certain way of walking and simply standing. Now this might be my imagination, but it seems to me that in the States we are not as concerned with the perfection of your handbag or desire for more fine jewelry.
Now I will be the first to admit that I’m biased here. This is my inaugural journey to the motherland – Sicily. In 1918 my great-grandfather arrived in the United States via a boat. Like thousands of other immigrants, he came with little to no money armed only with his trade. Baton Rouge, Louisiana, was his choice location to settle and open his tailoring business. I knew him in his later years. Spending time in my great-grandfather's tailor shop were precious moments to me. I never knew what to expect, but always looked forward to time with my Italian Paw-Paw. There was a deep sense of pride in every suit he made and hem he stitched. As I would stand on the wooden box in front of the mirror in his shop he would move around me with his measuring tape chatting in Italian and making me a beautiful imaginary dress.
Paw-Paw refused to retire. He would have died with needle and thread in hand at his shop if we had let him. Against his will at the age of 94 the family ‘took away’ his drivers license. That was no happy day for him. Soon after the doors of his tailor shop were closed and he begrudgingly spent his days at home. At the age of 97 he passed away and with him went the old world trade of tailoring.
As I travel Sicilia, meet the people, eat the food – I am gaining much insight into my great-grandfather and my Italian heritage. The passion for the best things in life ran true through his veins. Being here is also helping me make sense of my strange affection for olive oil, garlic, and every other Mediterranean food. I would like to blame my Sicilian roots for my endless search for outstanding food.
Despite the language barrier, I’ve never felt so at home in another country. The way of life here makes sense to me. The people, the places, and the pace of life are strangely familiar. Little things like the abundance of Vespas, or coffee made rich and strong sets me to giggling to myself. It’s like all of my favorite things in life are actually part of a functioning society wherein these people all appreciate the same things! (Granted this is from a completely humanistic point of view…)
I can’t help but sit back and savor the perfection of the cannoli, the breeze of the sea, or the style of the Italians passing by.
In the midst of this, I am faced with my own American identity. The flipping of my flops is the first giveaway. Even my posture is a bit different. Have you ever noticed that? Americans have a certain way of walking and simply standing. Now this might be my imagination, but it seems to me that in the States we are not as concerned with the perfection of your handbag or desire for more fine jewelry.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
i have writer's block
...and this is my attempt to get over it. I haven't written to the general public in months, wish I had, and now don't know where to begin. More has been experienced in recent months than I can begin to tell. After traveling to 5 countries, major life lessons learned, still being in the mix of a school, and not knowing exactly where I'm off to next - I know I need to write, but where does one begin? ... Maybe writing about the current challenge of writing? :)
I do want to share... the beauty, the extremes, the world at large... it's all in my head and heart and needs to come out. There are many stories of how God's done amazing things during this time which should be told.
I sure hope this is the beginning.
At the moment though, it's getting late here in Jerusalem. I need to get to bed because my group departs at 7AM tomorrow for Capernaum, Mount of Beatitudes, and the Sea of Galilee. I am grateful for all these experiences, but I do look forward to the essential part of processing it when this school is completed. Stay tuned... more writing to come.
I do want to share... the beauty, the extremes, the world at large... it's all in my head and heart and needs to come out. There are many stories of how God's done amazing things during this time which should be told.
I sure hope this is the beginning.
At the moment though, it's getting late here in Jerusalem. I need to get to bed because my group departs at 7AM tomorrow for Capernaum, Mount of Beatitudes, and the Sea of Galilee. I am grateful for all these experiences, but I do look forward to the essential part of processing it when this school is completed. Stay tuned... more writing to come.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
do not hinder your beauty
Some lessons I learn repeatedly. One of those is that each person was created to reveal God in certain ways that only they could. It's like God locked up his beauty in people and you can choose to see it or not to see it. A right alignment of vision is needed for this.
I again realize that it's in me too. The ways I was created to be and move should not be hindered. It's quite easy to get busy and crowd out the simple sweetness God's given us to enjoy each day. When I do 'stop to smell the roses' everything else has a way of working itself out -- and I'm joyful the whole way through.
God has beautiful revelations, messages of love, moments of peace, and hidden kindnesses for us every morning... please, don't let it be missed today!
I again realize that it's in me too. The ways I was created to be and move should not be hindered. It's quite easy to get busy and crowd out the simple sweetness God's given us to enjoy each day. When I do 'stop to smell the roses' everything else has a way of working itself out -- and I'm joyful the whole way through.
God has beautiful revelations, messages of love, moments of peace, and hidden kindnesses for us every morning... please, don't let it be missed today!
Sunday, May 25, 2008
heart. hurts.
ahhhhh my heart hurts. i love so many people. i know so many excellent, outstanding individuals around this planet and i don't know how to hold them all in my heart at the same time. sometimes i fear it may explode. and then i meet another person that's so beautiful and unique and revels God in ways that only they can and the growing pains come again.
as i serve and travel and seek God the world keeps moving. friends marry, have kids, get divorced, move, and i miss a lot of it. makes me miss the changing of seasons in one location. what was that like again? staying around long enough to see 4 seasons in a proper order?
plants are fascinating. you stick the seed in the ground and with water, sun, and soil it will grow s l o w l y. it may produce exotic flowers or delicious fruit, but it's worth waiting for. it can't be hurried along. a plant moves at it's own pace.
someday i want to tend a garden. fruits and vegetables will grow there. i will have planted those seeds with my own hands and then eventually nurtured those plants long enough to eat their fruit. what a grand dream.
as i serve and travel and seek God the world keeps moving. friends marry, have kids, get divorced, move, and i miss a lot of it. makes me miss the changing of seasons in one location. what was that like again? staying around long enough to see 4 seasons in a proper order?
plants are fascinating. you stick the seed in the ground and with water, sun, and soil it will grow s l o w l y. it may produce exotic flowers or delicious fruit, but it's worth waiting for. it can't be hurried along. a plant moves at it's own pace.
someday i want to tend a garden. fruits and vegetables will grow there. i will have planted those seeds with my own hands and then eventually nurtured those plants long enough to eat their fruit. what a grand dream.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
need to blog
if i had a $1 for every time i think about writing on this thing...
anyway, i'm inspired by another friend's blog. there's so much in my heart i want to express to the world.
currently i'm back in limbo. caught somewhere between nashville and new zealand... yet i continue to discover we are all in transit no matter where on the planet we are. "you are today becoming what you will someday be" is my new favorite quote. it's true. you're in transition toward becoming _____. what are you becoming? a dad? a rocket scientist? a dolphin trainer? a president? an author? a world changer?
i have a dream. it's a dream that is crazy in modern-day language. it goes against all odds and fights against all hope. it's true, it's passionate, and it's ever moving forward even if i decide to forget about it. God's Kingdom on earth as it is in heaven. I want to see and live and eat and breath that. sometimes i feel that if i laid out the dreams of my heart people would look at me like i'm some sort of goofy disney character. i do believe there is beauty and love and hope even where it looks like none exsists. i want to be a part of that. i want to be a part of the impossible.
Every 3.6 seconds someone starves to death and 3/4 are children under the age of 5.
Nearly 1 billion people are illiterate; more than 1 billion people do not have access to safe water; some 840 million people go hungry or face food insecurity; about one-third of all children under five suffer from malnutrition.
Each year, millions of girls and boys are exploited — they are raped, forced into early marriage, enslaved in the global sex trade or used for bonded labor.
I don't want to just read about these things. I'm not going to die haven't thrown up my hands to these issues simply because the problems seem too big. "What difference can I really make?" A huge one. YOU can make a huge difference. You've heard it said, "the only thing it takes for evil to prevail is for good men to do nothing." It's true.
What are you going to DO?
anyway, i'm inspired by another friend's blog. there's so much in my heart i want to express to the world.
currently i'm back in limbo. caught somewhere between nashville and new zealand... yet i continue to discover we are all in transit no matter where on the planet we are. "you are today becoming what you will someday be" is my new favorite quote. it's true. you're in transition toward becoming _____. what are you becoming? a dad? a rocket scientist? a dolphin trainer? a president? an author? a world changer?
i have a dream. it's a dream that is crazy in modern-day language. it goes against all odds and fights against all hope. it's true, it's passionate, and it's ever moving forward even if i decide to forget about it. God's Kingdom on earth as it is in heaven. I want to see and live and eat and breath that. sometimes i feel that if i laid out the dreams of my heart people would look at me like i'm some sort of goofy disney character. i do believe there is beauty and love and hope even where it looks like none exsists. i want to be a part of that. i want to be a part of the impossible.
Every 3.6 seconds someone starves to death and 3/4 are children under the age of 5.
Nearly 1 billion people are illiterate; more than 1 billion people do not have access to safe water; some 840 million people go hungry or face food insecurity; about one-third of all children under five suffer from malnutrition.
Each year, millions of girls and boys are exploited — they are raped, forced into early marriage, enslaved in the global sex trade or used for bonded labor.
I don't want to just read about these things. I'm not going to die haven't thrown up my hands to these issues simply because the problems seem too big. "What difference can I really make?" A huge one. YOU can make a huge difference. You've heard it said, "the only thing it takes for evil to prevail is for good men to do nothing." It's true.
What are you going to DO?
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