human together

i had every intention of going to the gym when i got home from work this afternoon. but after staying up until midnight last night and going into work at 7:00 this morning it was more appealing for me to come home to our empty community house, grab a handful of pita chips and a mug full of chocolate milk and sit down to blog while our house cat snoozes on the chair across from me and the sunlight filters through the numerous windows. it's not usually quiet in our house. which i like. i love living in community, i love my housemates and i would not give up where i am in life right now for anything (unless, maybe, i was offered a ticket to india...but even that's uncertain because that will happen when God is ready...). but it's been an emotional week, and i haven't really had time to think and sometimes that can add to the exhaustion.

today tamara and i were talking to one of our clients who sells flowers.
"a," i said, "those are really beautiful. i'm going to come back and buy some from you later." "take some" a answered, "i want you to have them."
"but i don't have any money with me right now..."
"i want to give them to you."
so i left him with a bouquet of beautiful flowers in yellows and reds and burgundy--a perfect fall mix for the end of august.

i have probably said it before and i will probably say it again because i think that our common humanity will always and forever be what drives me and compels me consistently to love others. i count myself so, so privileged because day after day i get to sit down and hear the stories and share the humanity with people who many have pushed to the side.

i get to see the smile on a's face as he watches people pick out flowers from his stand. i get to hear the simple reasoning of justice from my developmentally delayed friend r, which reminds me day after day to seek the simple justices and ways of life. it's not really as complicated as i make it. i get to see the tears in g's eyes as he tells me (yet again) of the death of his daughter. i see the excitement when d gets to provide a home for his wife after a long time searching. i get to enter into the delusions of mr. c who has somehow decided to trust me even though he thinks everyone else is out to get him. and i get to laugh with c as he tells me i'm a stalker and accuses me of stealing all the petty cash (i never really know if he's joking...).

i'm so privileged because i get to experience humanity every day with people who are simply human...but told by society that they just aren't worth it.

t and i have two quotes in our office and at the end of every email that we send. her's reads "my humanity is bound up in yours, for we can only be human together" (bishop desmond tutu) and i have found this to be so true. as i realize my clients humanity i realize more and more my own humanity. our weaknesses and strengths. loves and dislikes. we rejoice together and cry together. and through our common humanity we build bonds and help each other grow.

a psalm

i've been struggling with God. learning what it looks like to give control over to Him and to trust Him with my life. to accept that He knows my future, and He knows what He wants it to look like. also trying to remember that He is the God of justice and mercy. of love and wrath. and He is able to be the God of opposites because He is the Alpha and the Omega.

whenever i struggle, i find it helpful to do something creative. for some reason it helps bring me closer to God in a way that is easy and comfortable. this week i've been praying and thinking and reading the psalms. i came to psalm 101, and for some reason i was prompted to re-write it. and i thought i would share.

psalm 101
of elisabeth. a psalm.

i will sing of Your love and justice;
to You, O LORD, i will sing praise.
i will try, with Your help, to live a life of justice and mercy--
will You help me?

i will treat my family with love and grace.
i will not enter into temptation purposefully.

the deeds of the unjust--especially those that they claim to do in Your name--frustrate me.
those deeds i hate. they will not be my deeds.
those whose heart is focused on violence and lies shall not be close to me--
for i will have nothing to do with evil.

whoever slanders the poor or meek--
those i will try to give a new point of view;
whoever has haughty eyes and a proud heart--
i will speak to them the truth of Your justice.

my eyes will be on the marginalized in the land,
that they may dwell with me;
i will entreat the faithful and just to minister to me.

no one who speaks lies as if they are truth will dwell in my house--
for they do more damage than good.

every morning i will seek Your truth, and put to silence the wicked in myself;
and i will seek to bring the Kingdom of the Lord to this city.

we're leaving for india this week. while we're gone luke and i will be blogging from here. hopefully on a more regular basis than we have been previously...

words of frustration and whispers of grace

he's 72 and he's homeless. he's a legal citizen, but his green card got stolen and so we're waiting for a new one to come in the mail. until it does, he is without id and without id, you're kind of stuck. he's also an alcoholic. and when he drinks he gets depressed and suicidal and rambles on and on about his daughter who has passed away and his wife who has also passed. he asks why he is left and why he is in his position. he blames himself. he talks about his past, but does not blame it, he simply states the facts. and when he gets sober, he's gentle and kind. but today, the social worker at the hospital where i spent 7.5 hours trying to get him admitted today looked at me and told me that he was hopeless. that his constant alcohol problem and the related health problems all equal up to him never having a chance. she had decided to write him off. the social worker's tone today reminded me of that of ebenezer scrooge in a christmas carol--when he harshly criticizes the men taking up a collection from the poor. after retorting harshly that his taxes paid for poor houses and prison's, the charity collectors comment that the services for the poor are so terrible that they would rather die than utilize them, scrooge replies "then they had better do it and reduce the surplus population!"

you see, there was a terrible outcry in the nation when universal healthcare was suggested. the government has no right to pick and choose who lives or what treatment people get! rumors of death panels, decreased healthcare options and a general downgrade to a lower standard were posed as terrible outcomes of this possible system. and while i do not know if these things would happen, i think we miss a terrible point when defending our "right" to healthcare. the current system already picks and chooses who lives and who dies. who deserves a chance, and who should just be discharged to the streets to defend for themselves.

but i have digressed into yet another fit of frustration. i came home in a mood. and as i was discussing with a housemate this "social worker" who caused my furry i lamented on how anyone could just write someone off. i proclaimed loudly that i may be naive, but i would rather be naive than bitter and that no person--no matter how long they have been an alcoholic--deserves the lack of grace and the lack of encouragement that she was offering. "everyone deserves a second or third or millionth chance!" i indignantly declared. "i just know one thing! i pray to God that i am never like that social worker!"

and then it hit me. i was just like that pharisee in luke 18--the one who loudly thanks God that he is not like the sinners he sees around him. our tendency is to swing the other way, and thank God that we are not like the pharisee. the point is they are both wrong. and as i stood in my indignant, self-righteous state i forgot one thing. that she deserves as much grace as my client.

i think that injustice and ungrace frustrates God as much (so...probably more) than it frustrates me. i'm sure He looks down on our systems (capitalist, communist, socialist--all systems of exploitation) and says "how do they not get it?". He sent Christ to die that so we may extend grace. to the homeless alcoholic and the bitter social worker alike. as Christians, it is our job to always extend grace. for God always extends grace to us.

interesting thought.

Our friend Craig posted this on facebook:

"Check this out: no electricity, lining up for cold food, scooping up toilet waste and disposing of it elsewhere, fear of danger from either fire or flood??? So in other words 3 days of life on a broken cruise ship was actually similar to daily life for the 1 billion people living in slums..."

Why does the "cruise ship nightmare" gathers news stories when those living in these conditions (only worse, and it is their life....) go unnoticed and ignored?

kingdom come

"are you ready for the kingdom of God to come?" he asked me, looking up at me with tired eyes and a big smile.

"oh, sir, you don't even know," i replied. for this week was one of those weeks. the kind of week where i cling to the promises of revelation--that Christ will make all things new, and that there will be a new heaven and a new earth. where nothing will be the same as it is right now.

even though the conversation with Leroy quickly went from a deep theological question to a monologue on why the kingdom of God will arrive in 2012, questions like these during hard weeks make me realize how much truth is spoken into my life in the least expected places...this question helped me to articulate my entire week. a week in which i encountered great brokenness--both mine and others--without much sign of redemption in the future. this week i long for the day when the poor and disabled will be exalted rather than discarded and marginalized, where the sick will be made new, where the mentally handicapped will talk with Jesus and where the drug addicts will experience true joy instead of fading highs. and on this day that is set aside to honor the courage of men an women like my grandfather--and rightly so, for they have great courage--we look to the day when peace will reign, and long for the peace to reign on earth right now.

when Jesus taught us to pray, He included in His prayer His longing for His Father's will to be done, and for His Father's Kingdom to come--on earth as it is in heaven. i have been thinking about this prayer often--what would it look like for His Kingdom to come now--on earth as it is in Heaven. is this a prayer for the future, or for the present? if we look at the other things mentioned in this prayer, they are things we want now--our daily bread, to be forgiven of our sins, to be delivered from evil--if the rest of the prayer is for the present, then doesn't it make sense that the beginning is as well? so what would it look like if all of us, as christians, prayed that God would use us to help bring His Kingdom to earth--prayed that in their lives His will would be done, as it is in heaven. do we have the courage to pray that prayer? and what would it look like in your life, home and community.

while we were at orientation, the song that we sang most often was called "may your kingdom come". i'm going to end with these lyrics that i have been praying all week--and i invite you to pray them with me. but be forewarned--this is not an easy prayer, and it may come with great cost. for when we pray for His Kingdom to come, we lose our own desires and are bound up in His. and life can never be the same.

for the hungry, we cry out for Your mercy
for the hurting, we cry out for Your mercy

come, Jesus, come

may Your Kingdom come on earth as it is in Heaven

come, Lord, come

for the warring, we cry out for Your mercy
for the dying, we cry out for Your mercy

come, Jesus, come

once upon a time.

we once had a bird feeder that was held by suction cups to our living room window. it was bright green and we were afraid that it would fall off, so we never kept it more than half full of bird seed at a time. birds never came to it. we waited and waited for months and they never came. then one day, after a very bad day, i came home to find it shattered on the drive outside our apartment building. i cried and luke gave me a hug and said that it would be okay.

last week i decided to put some birdseed on the ledge outside our window to see if the birds would come and eat. they did. and now, every once in a while, when the windows are open, i hear little chirps and cracking noises and i look up to see little sparrows sitting outside our window.

luke and i have been memorizing Bible verses recently. our first goal is to memorize philippians. i have a hard time with memorizing verses because as i read them, instead of memorizing them i think about what they mean to me, to the way i act, think and talk, to the way i go about my life. this happened when i came across philippians 1:7, which reads "being confident in this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." i realize that the significance this has on my life is twofold. first, that God DID start a good work in me (even though, especially recently, i have not felt as such) and that second He will carry it on to completion (an argument for patience, yes?).

i also must realize that this is not only a promise in me, but a promise for the world. luke showed me this article yesterday, and i haven't been able to stop thinking about it since. and when i think about it i cry.

my heart aches for His justice and for His mercy. for a time when they will reign together in perfect harmony. for His kingdom to come.

i know that i haven't written much recently. i have hardly written about our weekend with servants to asia's urban poor in oklahoma city. honestly, i think it was too good to put into words. but there we sang songs of justice to God. i've been singing one in my head recently, so i will close with that.

o, this night is dark indeed
while we're waiting for the light
for the nations to be judged
and the powers to be put to shame
o, Lord, spare Your poor,
save our soul
from our violence, oppression, fear and anxiety

although i am weeping
Lord help me keep sowing
seeds for the day when Your
peace will arise with the dawn.
when the bombs we are dropping
and the guns that keep firing
melts in the face of the just
as Your kingdom comes

now i sow in tears
that one day i might weep with joy
when the mountains will drip with wine
and we beat, beat, beat our swords into plowshares

in addition, it does snow in parts of africa.

every year i hear the song "do they know it's christmas" and every year i get a little bit more agitated with its existence.

i know, i know. some of you will cry out in protest "but it was written to give starving children in the ethiopian famine of 1984 food!" and that's true. and i think that is a great thing.

however, every time i hear this song the fact that it was written for victims of severe poverty is lost. especially when i hear bono belt out the line "tonight thank God it's them instead of you." (no worries, for all of you who know me and my frustrations with bono, i did not like this line before i knew it was he who sang it...).

i don't know how to put my frustration with this song into words. but it definitely has something to do with how it misses the entire point of christmas. how it misses the entire point of giving thanks. and how it misrepresents what is going on in the lives of those living in poverty.

they are right. if christmas is about gifts and about snow it is possible that those living in the 1984 famine of ethiopia might not have known that it was christmas that year. but lucky for all of us, that is not what christmas is about. in fact, christmas is more for the poor, the hungry and the homeless. while Jesus came down to save all of us, He did it in the form of a small, helpless, Palestinian refugee, born to an unwed mother and a carpenter father. as scott bessenecker eloquently states in his book new friars:

...the very first statement Jesus ever voiced about his concern for the poor, oppressed and marginalized people was when he cried out as one of them--eyes shut tight, mouth open wide, wailing, kicking, shaking and dripping with blood and amniotic fluid. it was one of the most profound acts of solidarity with the poor he could make. he cast his lot not with the world's emperors or with the rich and powerful but with the world's demoralized peasants. when God voted with his birth, he voted for the poor. it was the fulfillment of a long-awaited plan for God to live among the people he had made...

you see, the line "thank God it's them instead of you" goes against everything that Jesus' birth was meant to tell us. He came to live among His people, disgusting, rotten and impoverished as we are, rather than watching from a distance, being grateful that He did not have to deal with the problems and messes that we had gotten ourselves into or caused for others.

i'd also like to point out that the line "the greatest gift they'll get this year is life" is a ridiculous line that separates the rock stars from the hungry in ethiopia unnecessarily. the greatest gift that any of us will ever be given is life. not our own lives, but the chance to have our lives enhanced by the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.

__________________________

(if you do not have time to watch the youtube video with the ridiculous 80s hair and clothes, you can read the lyrics here).

greater love...

so the thankful thing has not been quite as successful as i was hoping. yet. today leaving work i was complaining about going to the grocery store. how i hated watching how much money i spend there, and how it bothers me that sometimes i have to go to both shoppers and aldi in order to spend the least amount of money, but still make relatively healthy dinners. i was frustrated because luke was in class and not with me, and that i can't carry anything over 10 pounds so i would have to make multiple trips to bring the groceries up from the car, and have a cart in the grocery stores, when normally we just carry the bags because it gets too crowded in the stores to maneuver well with carts.

i was in a bad mood. and my headache was only getting worse as i pushed my cart into the only open check out lane and started loading my groceries behind a mother and her two daughters.

i could tell that this family was probably not the most well-off family, like most of the families that shop at aldi. as the woman finished scanning the groceries the mom took our her credit card to pay. she scanned the card, and was told to enter a pin, which she couldn't because it was a credit card. they don't take credit cards at aldi. the woman, slightly confused because she didn't speak english well, took out the cash she had in her wallet and began to take things out of her cart. her daughter looked at her mom and smiled and began to help her remove the juice drinks, the ice cream and finally a box of cereal in order to get the total low enough so that the woman could pay with cash. i awkwardly offered to help her pay, but she declined, and i think she took my offer as an offer out of frustration for the long wait rather than a gesture to help. she smiled her thanks, and continued on, her little girls talking and giggling like nothing happened. this was probably a regular occurrence for them.

i debated whether or not to write this story here. i do it not because it reminded me to be thankful for what i have, or to remind you to do the same (we should do that anyway, we should give thanks always, not only when we see the misfortune of others). i tell this story because i haven't been able to get the beautiful face of that little girl out of my head as she searched for something to give to her mom to take out of the cart. and while juice drinks and ice cream are not essential items, that is not a choice that most of us have to make. and it's not a choice that a child should have to help make or watch her mom make.

the thing is that numbers and studies that come out about poverty don't capture something very real that happens so many places. and whether or not that mother is working, or is an illegal immigrant, or any of the other excuses we come up with not to extend a helping hand to those who do not have the luxuries that we have, it isn't that little girl's fault.

i tell this story not so that we think of that family and decide we're happy that is not us. i tell it because it needs to be told, because we need to do something about it. we need to stop looking for excuses not to help and instead look for all possible ways that we can. and not just because it's christmas. and not because we feel guilty. but because we're human and they're human and we have a God who made Himself human so that He could show us how to love others perfectly and without boundaries.

and if anyone had any reason not to, He sure did.

Love is a teacher

Her name is Angela. And she has the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. I passed her on my way out of Target last week, and if I had been a little more with it (meaning not coming off of an overnight shift) I would have thought to ask her to go eat breakfast with me, rather than offering her the small amount of change in my wallet. I asked her what her name is and I reached out my hand, she looked at me with surprise and timidly extended her scarred hand towards mine. It looked as though she had been badly burnt. I thought about her again today as I ran into Target...I wanted to see her again, since my mind was a little bit clearer. I wanted to sit down with her and ask her what her story was. But she wasn't in her spot outside the door. Maybe (hopefully) someone else was treating her to breakfast.

I wonder what it would be like to not be seen. To stand day after day in the same spot and have people walk by in a hurry, pretending to be engrossed in the sidewalk or the sky...to be denied the basic right to exist to others. Isn't it sad that it is hardly even normal to make contact with strangers?

Though I've been making my way through the Old Testament history and proverbs books currently, yesterday I flipped through Isaiah--which is, by far, my favorite book of all time. I especially love the chapters in the 50's--specifically 55 and 58. It is here in beautiful poetry that Isaiah lavishes us with God's love for His people and for the poor. And it is in this chapter where answers are given. Where God proclaims that He will come to His people if they humble themselves and begin to provide for the poor. It is here where the trees of the fields will clap their hands as you go out with joy and are lead forth in peace. Where He comforts His people by providing them with spiritual food and His people care for each other by providing each other with physical food. Here is here, in Isaiah 55 and 58, where I believe God lays out His perfect plan for this world that He created.

As always, I've been thinking about love, and how I want to love people all the time. All people. I want to love the random person who walks down the street with their iPod, too involved in their own world to look up. I want to love the people it's more natural for me to love (but not easy, those should not get confused), like my family and friends, and the poor and down-hearted. I want to love people better...and always. It is my prayer that I would love better....that we all would love better. I want to see a time when true fasting that sets the oppressed free, shares food, clothes the naked and cares for others before outselves comes.

And while love is hard to acheive and it is won by long labor, I pray that we would be working towards it. Will you join me?

...love is a teacher; but one must know how to acquire it,
for it is hard to acquire, it is dearly bought,
it is won slowly by long labor.
For we must love not only occasionally,
for a moment, but forever.
Everyone can love occasionally, even the wicked can.
-Dostoyevsky

Pro-Life, Pro-Choice...Nay, Pro-Politics

I was listening to NPR yesterday morning and they were discussing the murder of late-term abortion doctor George Tiller and they introduced Nancy Keenan, President of NARAL and Tom McClusky, Vice President of Family Research Council's Legislative Group to the show to discuss the murder.

At first I thought, how silly, of course both of these groups will agree that the death of any already born person is horrific, even though they disagree on the pre-natal term "life" and whether or not that life can be killed and whether or not it's choice...you know the arguments.

Unfortunately I found out very quickly how wrong I was.

Now, I realize that these two people were asked questions, and that their answers were probably spliced and edited and all of those things that sneaky people do in order to get a good story.

But neither the "Pro-Choice" side or the "Pro-Life" side stated that there was anything upsetting about the murder of this man.

Instead what I heard was this:

"I hope those Pro-Lifers understand how their nasty rhetoric caused this death" and "I hope those Pro-Choicers realize that their 'choices' caused this death"

As well as this:

"I hope those Pro-Choice people don't use this as amunition to get bills passed against the Pro-Life movement" and "I can't wait to use this as amunition to get bills passed agains the Pro-Life movement".

(Paraphrase, of course).

(I should also point out that there was one Pro-Life individual who did express some sorrow over the death of the doctor, but in the same breath preceded to talk about how it will indeed spur the "child-killing movement" to move against the pro-life movement).

Now, I happen to believe that what Dr. Tiller was doing was wrong. But I also happen to believe that what Scott Roeder did was wrong.

And I realize that Nancy Keenan and Tom McClusky do not speak for both sides of the entire movements they represent, but in that NPR interview neither side won. And humanity didn't win. Politics won.

In the constant battle between the pro-life and pro-choice movements women don't win. Babies definitely don't win. Humanity doesn't win. Politics fight in order to try to win.

And I wonder if we forgot politics and made it about people if everyone would win more. If the pro-choice side sought better adoptions laws and better standards of care for the children that we have instead of fighting for the right to keep abortion legal then children would win. And if the pro-life movement raised money to care for mother's after they have their children, and built networks to help support them during pregnancy then women would win. *

Besides seeking, raising and building are better options for all humanity than fighting...

*I realize that both sides have members who do those things...I just wish it was more like everyone...

Picture Project Post--May 3 through May 14

It's early...or late...and it's reached the point where some are rising, and I'm counting down the minutes until I get to go to bed. The birds are chirping and the sun is just beginning to turn the sky shades of pastel colors. The people are starting to move, going on their runs, meeting at the corner Starbucks, you know, the things city people do.

Don't ask me why, but at this time every Tuesday and Friday mornings I fight the urge to burst into loud song. This morning I succumbed. Why not, I'm the only one here...

"...little town, little quiet village, every day like the one before, little town, full of little people...waking up to say....Bonjour, bonjour, bonjour...there goes the baker with his tray like always, the same old bread and loaves to sell...every morning just the same, as the morning that we came to this poor provincial town..."

People in DC think they are above the little village. But they aren't. And I find myself, like Belle, looking at the people and singing

"There must be more..."

Unlike Belle, I hope I can do a better job at engaging those around me instead of alienating myself from them. Lately I haven't been doing so great at that.

It seems to get longer and longer between my posts. It's not that I don't have thoughts. I have lots of thoughts. Just not a lot of motivation to write them down at present...

Here are some things that I've been thinking recently:

.Omar al-Bashir appeared on my homepage yesterday. He looks so normal. What separates him from other sinners. Nothing, really. Just the magnitude of the crime. But Jesus died for him just like he died for me. My sin killed Jesus just as much as Omar al-Bashir's sin killed Jesus...and doesn't his sin, in a way, become my sin when the United States...my country...does not take a firm and active stand against his sin? What is the place of societal sin, anyways?

.this article makes me think a lot of different things. good and bad. i don't know how i feel about the grouping of "white evangelicals" that seems to be happening a lot recently. and sometimes i feel like when i read this i think "i'm so above that"...but as a "white evangelical" what part of the blame do i take for that thinking...and should i say "i'm better than that" or should i say "i'm sorry that that seems to be the case, let me tell you how JESUS is better than that".

.i've been thinking about what it means to wait on the LORD. i read in the psalms the other day about how david wants his soul to wait on the LORD like the watchman waits for the morning. what does that mean? i do not think that my soul waits on the LORD like i wait for the morning during my overnight shifts. what would it even look like for me to do that. to have my soul full of patience, service and dependence on the LORD?

.the more i hear about war, the economy and governmental reform the less i believe in all three. i want to be an anti-economy, anti-government pacifist who just goes around loving people. in theory. in practice, i have no idea what that looks like. but i think it looks a lot like Jesus and the early church.

so, without a lot of elaboration, those are some of the many thoughts running through my head...

and now, here are some of the events that have been running through my week.

_________________________________

Sunday, May 3, 2009: It was the first of many dreary and rainy days, but this dogwood outside of our church looked pretty (prettier than captured in the picture...)

Monday, May 4, 2009: The second of the dreary days. And somebody left their stuffed dog outside. It was a pretty slow week (except for one momentous occasion) and I think you'll be able to tell in my pictures...sorry!



Tuesday, May 5, 2009:
Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad S.! It was a big one...25 years! Congratulations on a wonderful marriage! As for Luke and I, it was a pretty quiet night. And I colored. And it was fun. You can't tell, but it's a scene from The Little Mermaid when they are floating in the blue lagoon...
Wednesday, May 6, 2009: Since I was too tired to make a "Cinco de Mayo" meal, we had a "Seis de Mayo" instead. =)

Thursday, May 7, 2009: Luke and I went out to eat in Adam's Morgan before I had to go to work. We ate at this pretty nice restaurant, with this weird neon sign out front. Luke looked up at it and said "Well that's tacky..." and it was.

Friday, May 8, 2009: After getting very little sleep after my overnight shift before having to go into my other job, and then losing my metro card, on top of a pretty rough week in general, it was slightly therapeutic to stop and play with the caterpillars on the way home from the metro.

Saturday, May 9, 2009: I know, I know, I have a lot of pictures of Luke this week. We went to play Frisbee golf on Saturday and it was pretty fun. The course was in the woods, and it was pretty tough, but really pretty. I thought this was a pretty good action shot.


Sunday, May 10, 2009: Happy Mother's Day, Moms! Luke and I went to the garden. Luke got to plant his watermelon seeds. We'll see if they grow...I'm pretty skeptical. Luke is pretty excited...
Monday, May 11, 2009: I was cleaning and getting ready for AMANDA to come up (HOORAY!) so I didn't have a chance to take a nap. These things got me though my overnight shift. Even though I don't like using caffeine, you really can't help it some nights...




Tuesday,
May 12, 2009: Waiting and watching for Amanda to come! If nothing else, we do get some pretty gorgeous sunsets out our little bedroom window. And they light up the entire room (and sometimes the whole apartment, too).
Wednesday, May 13, 2009: So, confession. I've wanted to get my nose pierced since my junior year of high school when my friend Brittany turned 18 and went to get her nose pierced. And on Wednesday I finally did! With Amanda! I think I really like it, too! It was definitely something that I'm glad I did. And I'm so glad I got to do it with one of my best friends! Before she moves all the way to the Washington across the country...

Thursday, May 14, 2009: Both Amanda and I had a lot to do, so we hung out around the apartment and just enjoyed the mutual company. Goodness, I love that woman. =)

________________________

I'll leave you with this bit of Disney wisdom:

When you look under the rocks and plants and take a glance at the fancy ants...and maybe try a few...(you eat ants?!)...the bear* necessities** of life will come to you (they'll come to me?) they'll come to you.

_____________________________

*I never know if it's the "bare necessities" like it's supposed to be or the "bear necessities" because Baloo is singing it. I like the idea of it being a play on words, but still spelling it "bear". So that's what I did.

**Luke and I are heading to the beach for a week with our families. Out of the necessity for quiet, getting back together and listening to God, and just for an intentional time of enjoying my family, I will not be taking my computer. See you all in a week and a half!

God Bless America?

For years and years Democrats and Republicans alike have proclaimed "God Bless America!" at the end of their campaign speeches. This phrase is always certain to draw a loud cheer from the crowd, no matter what was said before, or what was going to follow. (Kind of like how at UNC anyone can add "Go Heels!" to the end of a speech and everyone will leave thinking the speech was amazing...) For years and years I've also been frustrated with this cry. Leaving aside all thoughts on whether or not it does Christianity any good to have a nation proclaim itself as a Christian nation, and whether or not politicians mean "America" or the "United States" (which could be a pretty important distinction, considering the United States' relationship with some of our American neighbors to the South...) this cry seems a little bit hollow.

First of all, the United States HAS been blessed. Especially if (as it seems sometimes to mean) blessings=monetary wealth. We do live in a land that has freedoms, where we are (theoretically) free from persecutions--especially those of an incredibly heinous nature. Aside from a handful of bombings/terrorist attacks, the United States has not been engaged in a war on its own territory since the Civil War. Citizens of the United States do have the "American Dream" (no matter how impossible this dream actually is...), at least United States citizens (and many immigrants as well) can have thoughts and dreams that things could get better for you and you won't be killed tomorrow in a car bombing, etc. The United States has been blessed.

Second of all, this cry seems to be (whether proclaimed by the most liberal of liberals, the most moderate of moderates or the most conservative of conservatives) not inquiring after God to bless the nation, but rather proclaiming that anything this nation does is blessed by God. Whether it be war, abortion or oppression, turning a blind eye to genocide or human trafficking, the battle cry of "God Bless America" seems more to say "We will do these things and we will be blessed" rather than "God show us what to do so that we can be blessed by You to be a blessing to others".

But maybe I'm being too harsh.

All of that being said, I think that God has some very strict requirements placed on those who are blessed by Him:

At the end of every seven years you must cancel debts...there should be no poor among you, for in the land the LORD your God is giving you to possess as your inheritance, He will richly bless you...For the LORD your God will bless you as He has promised, and you will lend to many nations but will borrow from none...If there is a poor man among your brothers in any of the towns of the land that the LORD your God is giving you, do not be hardhearted or tightfisted toward your brother. Rather be openhanded and freely lend him whatever he needs...Give generously to him and do so without a grudging heart; then because of this the LORD your God will bless you in all your work and in everything you put your hand to. There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore I command you to be openhanded toward your brothers and toward the poor and needy in your land.
-Deuteronomy 15:1-11 (selections)

No poor among you. Lending from many nations, but borrowing from none. Lending freely to your brother. Forgiving all debts every seven years*. Using the fact that there will always be poor among us as a reason to give more rather than an excuse to care less.

This is my question: Do we, as the citizens of the United States, really want God to bless us? Because with great blessing from God must come great responsibility. Are we, as a nation (or as individuals, for that matter), ready to be blessed?

Most days I don't think that I am...
_________

*I don't believe that God is talking about personal debt to credit card companies here. I think He's saying that we should give freely to the poor (individuals and countries, alike), and if they don't pay you back in 7 years figure it is okay. Because if you've made it for 7 years without the money, you can make it.

Wild Animals are Scary.

This is my husband, Luke (who also named this post). This morning I took some pictures of him because he was doing some pretty weird, but very cute things. He said that it made him feel like a baby panda.


Lately I've found myself incredibly in touch with the common humanity in all humans. The kind of in touch that makes giving someone money for a pack of cigarettes seem normal, while killing someone because they killed someone seem silly. I think I pinpoint it to Valentine's Day when Luke and I went to the Holocaust Museum. For those of you who haven't yet been there, it is pretty intense. I found myself on the verge of tears throughout the entire thing, only letting them trickle down my face in the Hall of Remembrance at the very end of the tour. How can one group of people dehumanize another group of people so much that the gold fillings in their teeth are seen as being worth more than their life itself?


One thing that I found very interesting is that the term "ghetto" began first in Italy as the name for an island where Jews were required to live, and then during the Holocaust as a place to keep those of Jewish descent before they were taken to concentration camps. It was a place of separation. The term is derived from the Latin term jactare meaning "to throw" or "to cast" (thank you dictionary.com). Basically it was were the "unwanted" in society had to go to live. Is it any coincidence, then, that we call the poor, minority areas of the towns and cities in the United States "the ghetto"? Unfortunately, I don't think so. And I think that it is just one more testament to the racism and classism that exists in our country today. Even Merriam-Webster defines ghetto as "an isolated area; a quarter of a city in which members of a minority group live especially because of social, legal, or economic pressure."

I heard the song "Big Pimpin'" today and I almost threw up.

But I've digressed (sort of). What is it that leads us, as humans, to characterize people into "worth it" or "not worth it", label them as such and then continue on living? I sometimes find myself doing this as I sit in our living room and watch out the window. There is this one extremely angry woman who lives next door and yells at the people who park in the parking lot of her apartment complex. We've been yelled at...I think most people on the block have been yelled at. I wrote her off as a mean woman (well, to be honest, a word a bit harsher...), but as I've been watching her interactions with people, and watching the way she walks around, I've come to realize that maybe there is more to her than I realize. And as I watched her try to start her moped yesterday in order to get around, and watched her try and try again, unable to start it, and as I watched her give up, and, instead slowly walk towards the road, I began to wonder what her story is. And what our stories had in common. Or, almost more importantly, what they could have had in common had any of our circumstances been slightly different.

This started me on a path, I think, of wondering what makes people tick, and what makes people do what they do. Sure, I have been down this path before, but never with such a diverse population around me so many times a day. A lot of times on Metro I will watch the people around me. I look at their facial expressions, I watch how they act, how the interact and what they are doing. And I write stories about them in my head. Not in a judging way, just in a story telling way. About where they are going and what they are thinking. Sometimes their stories are so intense I am moved to tears...

And then I realize that by doing this I am probably diminishing their existence in some way...making them into a greater or more pathetic character than they probably are. It would be better of me to tap them on the shoulder and ask them questions about their lives. Never mind that 75% of Washington, DC is inaccessible due to iPods and Blackberries.

Okay, so maybe I do pass some judgement.

Point being, this. I don't think that it's a mistake that I feel things intensely, or that I am a pretty passionate and compassionate human being. I really think that it is a gift from God that I get angered at injustice, saddened by loneliness , exclusion and seclusion. I think that I'm just misusing this gift by telling stories of people in order to somehow identify with the people around me. Basically, this is a confession. Instead of becoming real friends with the people around me I pretend that I know them by making up stories about them in my head. I've been misusing the gifts that God gave me.

Nevertheless, slowly, but surely, I've been becoming more and more aware of what it means to be human, what it means to be human with others, and what it means that Jesus was (and is) God in the flesh. I'm learning what it means that Jesus loved us so much that He came down on earth and lived with us in the poorest condition God could be...human. Gross.

And I'm learning about compassion. I've been reading Leviticus and Numbers. And while I'll admit that sometimes I let out a huge sigh when it's time for quiet time, it is pretty amazing that before there were all these rules and now there are not. We don't have to sacrifice or wait many days to become clean. Jesus took care of all of that. Here is my favorite example of one law that Jesus took care of:

And the leper's clothes shall be rent, and the hair of his head shall hang loose, and he shall
cover his upper lip and cry, Unclean, unclean!He shall remain unclean as long as the disease is in him; he is unclean; he shall live alone [and] his dwelling shall be outside the camp.
Leviticus 13:45-46 (Amplified)

And a leper came to Him, begging Him on his knees and saying to Him, "If You are willing, You are able to make me clean."
And being moved with pity and sympathy (or, in some versions, compassion), Jesus reached out His hand and touched him, and said to him, "I am willing; be made clean!"
And at once the leprosy [completely] left him and he was made clean [by being healed].
Mark 1:40-42 (Amplified)

It was a huge deal for Jesus to reach out and touch this man. I want to follow Jesus into that. I want my reaction to the gift of feeling that God has given me to be a reaction of action...I definitely have a lot to learn and need a lot of help.

____________________________________________

On a quite different note, I also want my family to be like this after a vacation, only hopefully many more kids:
Yes, I do love Norman Rockwell.


Picture post coming soon.

And just for laughs (but also post appropriate):

Failure, meet Grace.

I was listening to NPR yesterday morning and there was a story about an African-American man who was imprisoned when he was a sophomore in college for raping another (Caucasian) college sophomore. The woman who was raped told the police that the man who raped her was smoking the entire time. The man who the police arrested not only had an alibi (a whole group of them), but he also had asthma and therefore had never touched a cigarette in his life. During court the prosecuting attorney convinced the all-Caucasian jury that his friends were liars who would say anything to keep this man out of jail--therefore debunking the young man's alibis (all of them, in one, fell swoop). The man was imprisoned, and spent several nights sobbing because he was innocent. Ironically enough his cell mate, who was charged with two rapes and who was a chain smoker, heard his cries and the whole story and realized that he, not the young man, was the rapist. After the statute of limitations had run out he confessed to the crime. No one listened. He wrote the court system, the judge and the DA--no response. Once he was released from prison he tried to contact the young man. The man was dead. He died of an asthma attack while he was in prison because he couldn't get the healthcare he needed.

While I listened, I wept.

What was going to follow this story was a scathing review of race relations in America, a frustrated blog post on why things are broken, what racism is and how God will judge us not only separately, but also for our nation's sins, our race's sins and our class' sins as well.

But then something happened.

I am nearing the end of The Ragamuffin Gospel and during the last chapter Brennan Manning invites the reader on a "faith exercise" leading the reader through several different stages of admitting who you are--all the brokenness and everything--with response in Biblical passages, praying and imagining Jesus looking at you in mercy and inviting you to come as you are. I was somewhat skeptical, but I decided to try it.

During the second part of the exercise--the part where you were to close your eyes while imagining Jesus looking down in mercy on you--I was determined not to imagine the white Jesus that is so often depicted in Western paintings.

I guess I should stop here to explain that I have always been quite annoyed and disturbed with these "sissy" paintings of Jesus looking heavenward with His golden locks careening down His back. Jesus wasn't white, and He didn't have blond locks of hair, and even if He would have been white, you probably couldn't have been able to tell because it was real dusty and He probably would have been dirty most of the time. Just sayin'.

Anyway, back to the exercise. As I was laying on my back trying not to see this Jesus, an amazing thing happened. I saw many Jesus'. While my "annoying" white image of Jesus was there, so was a Chinese version of Jesus, and an Iraqi version of Jesus, and a Nigerian version of Jesus, and a Mexican version of Jesus, and a Philippino version of Jesus, and the list goes on. And then they all combined...and I couldn't see what that Jesus looked like. And I think this all goes to say that Jesus transcends race. He's more than that.

I've struggled with what my old boss calls "White guilt" for some time. The guilt that comes with knowing the history of Caucasian Americans and what they have done to so many different people groups that sometimes it makes you want to throw up or pull your hair out or something...anything to change the past. And I think that sometimes I live out of this White guilt instead of out of love. And living out of guilt will just burn me out eventually. And that doesn't do anybody any good. I think the reason I tend to be so hard on everyone else is because I'm so hard on myself. If I live out of guilt and anger towards the way I am, then I'll show people the same anger and expect the same guilt. I want to live out of God's love for me, and show that love to others. Just like Jesus lived out of love.

I think it's important to remember that God is a God of love. That He wants to give us grace. That He wants us to come...even though we are failures. Even though we don't have it figured out. Brennan Manning wrote this amazing passage in The Ragamuffin Gospel. He said:

...I witnessed a Peter who claimed that he did not know me, a James who wanted power in return for service to the kingdom, a Philip who failed to see the Father in Me, and scores of disciples who were convinced I was finished on Calvary. The New Testament has many examples of men and women who started out well and then faltered along the way. Yet on Easter night I appeared to Peter. James is not remembered for his ambition bor for the sacrifice of his life for Me. Philip did see the Father in Me when I pointed the way, and the disciples who despaired had enough courage to recognize Me when we broke bread at the end of the road to Emmaus. My point is this: I expect more failure from you than you expect from yourself...

This is in direct contradiction to living out of guilt. It means we live out of grace. And yes, we mess up. But then we accept grace and keep on moving--remembering that grace that is inactive is an illusion (Manning, again).

Do I believe that we will be judged as a nation? Yes. I think that justice and righteousness is important for us to seek--together. It's important to God...it's why Jesus came. I think that we must cry out to God, asking for forgiveness on behalf of our country and our different races and cultures.

But I also believe in grace.

My mom and I were talking today about "blooming where you're planted", something that I'm working on doing in this time of unemployment. I was going to change it to my blog title. I think "Gateway to Hope" is good too. In Hosea God seeks after an adulterous nation...one that has left and turned away. God has compassion. He wants to turn Achor (meaning trouble, the name for the Valley where the people were first judged in the promised land) into hope (Hosea 2:14-15). And I think that's what blooming where you're planted is. Watching God turn trouble into hope. And following Him into that hope.

I think that Jesus appears to different people in different ways. As long as we remember that as we follow the Jesus we see passionately, that there are other people following the Jesus that they see just as passionately. And we make up a whole body of believers who all see Jesus differently and are following Him passionately. That's what makes the church work. That and the unrelenting love, and unending grace of God. I want to live our of that love and grace.

I didn't mean for this post to be so long. I'll leave you with an image from the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception here in DC. It has images of Christ that different churches from around the world have sent to the Shrine. They are all different, fashioned after different cultural and ethnic views of who Jesus is or how He has appeared to different people groups over time. This is my favorite. It's from Nigeria. You can't really tell in the picture, but He is distinctly African (you can see it better if you click on the picture...a bigger image will appear). And I like the idea that Jesus can appear different to many people, but be the same Jesus that we all follow.

Hope Man and Peace Man

I just heard a story on NPR about two friends, one in Israel (Hope Man) and one in Gaza (Peace Man) who blog together. I think that's cool. If you want to check it out you can here:

http://gaza-sderot.blogspot.com/

I've also added them to my "blogs I read" section, so you will see when they update.

Social Justice.

I'm looking for some verses to use tomorrow in the talk Luke and I are giving to his parents' Sunday School Class and I just read this, which I found incredibly interesting (Luke only mildly so...). Pay special attention to the bold...

Deuteronomy 27:14-26

The Levites shall recite to all the people of Israel in a loud voice:

"Cursed is the man who carves an image or casts an idol—a thing detestable to the LORD, the work of the craftsman's hands—and sets it up in secret."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"
"Cursed is the man who dishonors his father or his mother."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"
"Cursed is the man who moves his neighbor's boundary stone."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"
"Cursed is the man who leads the blind astray on the road."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"
"Cursed is the man who withholds justice from the alien, the fatherless or the widow."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"
"Cursed is the man who sleeps with his father's wife, for he dishonors his father's bed."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"
"Cursed is the man who has sexual relations with any animal."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"
"Cursed is the man who sleeps with his sister, the daughter of his father or the daughter of his mother."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"
"Cursed is the man who sleeps with his mother-in-law."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"
"Cursed is the man who kills his neighbor secretly."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"
"Cursed is the man who accepts a bribe to kill an innocent person."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"
"Cursed is the man who does not uphold the words of this law by carrying them out."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"

Among stealing and sleeping with your sister is denying justice to the alien, the fatherless and the widow...

More thoughts later.

Autumn

I do not really know how to start this post (the third in 4 days...what is going on?). There are so many thoughts going through my head--thoughts of a beautiful day well spent, thoughts of cooking and baking and yummy foods, thoughts of justice and love and what they look like, and how they really are the same, thoughts of socialism and the early church, and thoughts of prophets of old and present day prophets (of false?). So many things that I have thought about this week, and so many places to start...so many blogs for the future, perhaps?

But let me start with Autumn. Beautiful autumn. I will begin by saying I hope my journey in this life does not permanently land me in the city. While I have enjoyed the bustles and free museums of the city, I thoroughly miss the outdoors and nature absent from it. Seeking to find an adventure in the woods seems to me, before it takes place, like an adventure too costly in energy. But today we took advantage of the cooling weather and found this adventure across the street from our humble home in Fort Totten Park. And it was well worth it. I forget how being in nature rejuvenates and refocuses me. It is nice to hear the sound of leaves beneath your feet and the wind in the trees above you. And the colors--the colors were absolutely breathtaking. I will attempt (and as always, probably fail) to post some pictures on this blog in an orderly fashion.

Fort Totten, as some of you may know (I, however, did not before today), was one of the forts protecting the city of Washington, DC during the Civil War. The park at Fort Totten, which is up a hill and across the street from our humble abode, is a memorial, of sorts, to this Fort, and still maintains some of the earth works that are left over from the war. The earth works, Luke tells me, are the parts of the earth that were built up to make the fort harder to attack. It was pretty amazing, and definitely could not be captured on film. However, we did hike around the earth works, and when you come visit you can too!

I have always loved the colors of autumn. How greens burst into bright gold, reds and oranges. How leaves slowly and beautifully drift to the ground. It is such a shame that it ends so quickly, and yet the crisp air holds promise of snow and cozy winter months (hopefully cozy...). I was delighted to find that autumn colors are just as vibrant in the city as they are in the wooded areas of North Carolina. Our God is truly an artistic God. But I will cease my narration for a moment and just show you the pictures for yourself. I will remind you that I am not nearly the photographer that I wish I was, and so these pictures do not capture the true beauty we saw...but I'm sure you could have guessed that.

In other news (but what other news besides the glory of nature is there?), Luke and I will be attending a church for two weeks in a row...we think we found a good one, folks, and we're pretty excited about the whole idea of finding a place where we can belong in the body of believers. We'll let you know how it turns out.

Speaking of the body of believers, I've been in Acts lately and I've found it really challenging. I don't know if I've mentioned it before, but since moving here I've discovered that I'm a pretty materialistic person. Even since Luke has gotten a job I've found myself struggling with the ideas of what it will be like to have money versus what it will look like to give that money away. I know that there is being a good steward of your money, but then there is also the point where you have to hold it with open hands and let God show you what being a good steward of your money is, and I'm just not sure what that's going to look like. The passage I've found most striking is this one:

All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they shared everything they had. With great power the apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and much grace was upon them all. There were no needy persons among them. For from time to time those who owned lands or houses sold them, brought the money from the sales and put it at the apostles' feet, and it was distributed to anyone as he had need.

Joseph, a Levite from Cyprus, whom the apostles called Barnabas (which means Son of Encouragement), sold a field he owned and brought the money and put it at the apostles' feet. (Acts 4:32-37)

Now, I have to admit, I've read this passage before more in judgment than in self-judgment. Wondering why other people aren't this giving and open. But when Luke and I were struggling with moving and paying the rent several people opened up their wallets, offering to help if we needed it, and I thought that was really amazing and it knocked me off my feet. And now we are wondering the same kind of things...how are we going to be good stewards of our money, and how are we going to hold our possessions with open hands, willing to help anyone who might come across our path. God calls each and every Christian to a higher way of living...a giving kind of living...and humble way of living...dare I even say a Socialist way of living...but maybe that is taking it too far...

I don't really know what to make of this passage in Acts. And I don't know what to make of other passages either (like ones in Isaiah where God says that our offerings mean nothing unless we also live a life of justice...what does that mean?)...and I'm sure there will be many more musings over what it means like to live a giving life of justice. I do know one thing...the world is headed in one direction and we, as Christians, are called to head the other way. But these are just some stirring thoughts on a beautiful day...

(Just a throw in picture so you can see my handsome husband...plus, I thought it was appropriate...)

Political, if only for a moment.

Don't worry, there will be no talk of McCain or Obama here. But I will say, before I go on a rant about race and socioeconomic class, that it is pretty amazing that the United States has voted an African-American man as the next President, and it's historical, no matter who you are.

Unfortunately, it is not the end of our racial problems in the United States, and part of me is afraid that it is the way that this election will be viewed.

I have been to the Superior Court building for 3 separate trials/ceremonies since I have been at Polaris Client Services, and tomorrow will be my fourth. After these three I can pretty much tell you what I will see tomorrow:

I will be one of the only white people in the court room. The other white men and women I will see will be officers of the court, the judge will probably be white, as well as some of the lawyers and the grand marshal. While I am 100% sure there are white men and women on drugs, purchasing sex and selling sex the only people who I will see prosecuted for these crimes tomorrow will be black (and maybe Latino).

Now I don't know the ins and outs of the courts system or the criminal justice system. I have heard people talk about the injustice and racism inherent in the system and that only a few get caught and those few are often times minorities. I know that these problems are big...huge, even, and they cannot be tackled completely by a handful of men and women charged with keeping a city safe, and I'm figuring that these problems are not blatent racism, but rather inherent in the system, but I have never seen the evidence of racism so apparent than when I am sitting in a court room in Washington, DC.

I am not saying that these people who have been caught for these crimes should not be prosecuted and punished for the crimes that they commit...I am not saying that at all...But there is a white Senator who is very close to winning a Senate race in Alaska who was just convicted of 7 felonies. And there is a New York governor who was caught in a prostitution ring who has served no jail time.

You can't tell me that everyone in this country has an equal opportunity.

Long Walks and Beautiful Days

It was a good weekend after a long week and before what is likely to be another long week. Just so you know (especially those of you with no access to facebook...) this post will have some pictures from the weekend, but certainly not all of them. If you would like to view the rest you can view them here. Also, because they are fun, you should look at these from our previous trip to the Nationals Stadium, which include pictures of the Presidential Race (very fun).

I don't really know why I'm writing now, except that I wanted to post some pictures. The weekend was definitely a good one, but there are always some tough spots. I miss my little sisters terribly, and it is weird (and hard) being here, unsure of the next step, and what is really going on in our lives. We've really got to depend on God, but sometimes it's hard making time for Him in a day that involves long metro rides and emotionally draining work from 9:00-5:00. The weird thing is that I know that I won't be as drained when I'm counting on God, and yet I'm too drained to get started. It's a vicious cycle that I am in the process of getting out of. Luckily for me, God is gracious and gives me so much less than I deserve (as far as punishment goes...Luke made fun of me for that one).

Luke and I did have some pretty quality conversations this weekend, and I am so lucky and blessed that even if we have absolutely nothing, we'll have each other and we'll continue to point each other to God, even when it's hard. Yes, I am a lucky woman.

Other than Luke, on the bright side we also love Washington, DC. There is a free zoo (I love the zoo) and an MLB Baseball Team. Both of which we took advantage of on Saturday. First we went to the zoo. There were a ton of kids there and we heard everything from a child wanting her parents to buy a leapord to a child wondering why a seal got put into time out. It was pretty cute.

I think that the animals at the zoo have different personalities just like people. Some of the animals we saw walked around lazily while others were great performers for the crowds and still others curled up in a corner so they could not be seen and they just slept. I wonder what I would be if I were trapped in a cage with millions of people looking at me every week. I think that I would be like this guy. While one of the other pandas ate bamboo next to the window and posed for pictures and the other hid behind a walk, this panda did whatever he wanted to in plain view of everyone. I like to think I would be easy going and cool, going about my business, yet letting other people be a part of my life. But maybe that is just a little too much of a personality analysis for a panda. What would YOU be like if you were in a zoo? (Seriously, leave an answer in the comments section!).

After the zoo we got hotdogs and ate them on the way to the Nationals game. The game was not a pretty one. We lost--and we looked like we lost. Not only did the team look horrible, there were so few hi-lights in the game, that the hi-lights movie at the end had pictures of fans dancing and players signing autographs. Yes, it was bad. But it was fun, nonetheless. After the game they showed a movie, Field of Dreams. While not the most spiritually sound (at all), it is still entertaining, especially when watching it on the huge high definition screen at the Nationals Stadium. Pretty amazing. I think the one thing the Field of Dreams is the concept of searching for meaning. I mean Kevin Costner's character gives up everything because he hears a voice. He travels to Boston and Minnesota at the risk of losing his farm and endangering his family because he hears a voice. And many people have done the same things on a notion. I want to be better at finding my meaning in Christ. And doing whatever it is to follow that. Including move to DC without a plan or a form of income. I'm sure this will be a theme in my life for many years to come.

We went to our first church in Washington this morning. On the way there we saw this dog sitting in the window. It was cute...and did I mention that I miss my family? I took a picture of it (at the risk of being a total creeper--as my sisters would say). But the dog was cute. Church was good. Luke and I want to find a church with deep social justice roots, and preferably one that is seeking racial reconcilliation and is diverse. The church we attended we found online and we went because next weekend they are having a weekend of prayer and fasting for victims of sex trafficking. The church population was fairly diverse, probably indicitive of the neighborhood in which it is located. The church seems to be seeking its values, but it's hard to tell in one week.
We will probably visit again soon.

The sermon this morning was really good. It was about the gospel and believing and knowing what you believe and why. I think the minister made some really good points, but what I took away from it is something that I need to remember, and something that I need to continually tell myself when I get stuck in, what seems like, impossible situations. This is my own paraphrase of the sermon...

We don't believe because it (the Gospel) has the power to change our situation--we believe because it has the power to change us.

Sometimes when stuff gets hard I wonder why in the world I get stuck in these seemingly hopeless situations and I get mad at God and the fact that I'm stuck. But God isn't about changing the situation--even though He can--He's about changing me within the situation. I need to remember this during this adventure and ridiculous times when Luke and I have absolutely no idea what's coming next...or where it will come from. I'd also like to point out that in Habakkuk 2:3 it says "Wait for it." That is also a phrase I think I will need to keep in my head. Forever.

This afternoon Luke and I moved into an Extended Stay America place in Maryland. In the past three weeks we have lived in North Carolina, Virginia, and Maryland. If our application for an apartment gets approved we'll be in Washington, DC by next week! 4 different locations in 4 weeks. We're awesome. =) The extended stay place is a lot different from our tiny apartment, and it has a gorgeous trail around a pond that we walked on for a long time and talked about racial reconcilliation, the way we think the world should be, and nothing all in the same outting. Have I mentioned how lucky I am?

Here are just some snip-its from our conversation on the way it should be. We were talking about how weird it will be to move into an area where we are the minority. And how it will be going out of our comfort zones and it will probably feel awkward and weird. But it's where we think we should live, and so on we go, into the unknown. But we know that this is the way that many minorities feel on a day-to-day basis in America, and, in general, since races and ethnicities tend to stick together, people will always feel uncomfortable and awkward when living among people who are different. I wonder if that's the way it should be. Or should everyone just live together, the rich and the poor, and the different races all mixed together, so nobody ever feels left out or awkward. And we think that it would be awesome if that were the case. And I think that it's the way it would be if things weren't so broken and messed up. And one day every tribe and every nation will be together, worshipping and praising God. And then we'll know how it should be, and should have been all along. And we'll wonder why we didn't embrace it and love each other instead of seperate ourselves out. Well, probably not because we'll be so overcome with joy...but you get the idea. Those are just some ramblings. And I think I make more sense when I speak. But it was a gorgeous afternoon, and typing thoughts that don't make sense to anyone but me is always a good way to end a gorgeous day. And, remember that you can see more pictures with the links posted above. Thanks for reading my crazy thoughts.