michelle the fontologist

The Rwanda Story: creative non-fiction

2011-10-05T12:51:00.000-07:00

Everyone I met in Rwanda for Africa New Life Ministries' 10th Anniversary celebration - Rwandan or American - has a story about how they ended up there. I'm no different.

For me, the story began when cancer ended my aunts life in 2003. She hadn't ever married and didn't have kids, and although this seemed unfortunate, I was secretly glad because it meant that she had lots of time and attention for me, as well as her other nieces and nephews. She really invested in each of us over the years.

But her impact on us didn't die along with her. After her death, we learned that she had left her estate to orphaned children in developing countries...and it was up to us nieces and nephews to find Christian organizations through which to distribute these funds.

To be honest, I didn't like this idea at the time. Not that I didn't care about orphaned kids, but...I didn't really. It just sounded like work. Uninteresting work.

But God changes people and over the next couple years, He chipped away at the idols in my heart until they lay shattered on the ground and then God constructed new passions and convictions in my heart. Suddenly the idea of having money that I HAD to give away seemed like a dream come true.

And that's how I encountered Africa New Life Ministries. We heard about the organization and then sent a small gift, along with a letter requesting more information. I was thinking newsletters. But then I got an email response asking, "we have a small musical group of Rwandan young men, could we come visit?" So these complete strangers came and stayed with us and did a small event at my church and when they left, I knew this was just the beginning.

And it was. Eventually, our church partnered with ANLM, through which 50 kids are sponsored, an orphan home was built, and two teams were sent.

At the end of the year in 2008, we learned that the trust fund should, for tax reasons, make a larger than usual donation that year. I contacted ANLM to see if there were any projects they were doing that fit the requirements of the trust fund. Turns out, a group of former street kids had been abruptly relocated from a home in Kigali to empty classrooms on the Kayonza campus. They were waiting on funds to purchase adjoining land and build a home for these boys. It wasn't a hard sell to the others in the trust fund, and the land was bought and home built.

The Umucyo Home (which means 'light', same meaning of my aunt's name, Elaine) now sits a short distance from the dining hall on the Kayonza campus. It currently houses 44 boys and a house "uncle", who gets them up early in the morning for prayer and devotional time before they go to school and work on their studies. They have dreams and a future because of what God has done for them.

This is a great story because it's one that you couldn't come up with if you wanted. God's work is so clearly seen from beginning to end.

But my favorite part about this story is that it is one of many. Being in Rwanda for the 10th Anniversary celebration meant hearing story after story after story of how God has worked in all kinds of people from all kinds of backgrounds to bring His transformational power to the people of Rwanda through Africa New Life Ministries.

The Umucyo Home has a story, but so does every other building, every other branch of ministry, every staff member, there at ANLM Rwanda. And you see them all together and it is just so undeniably God's work, that He would arrange and prepare and bring about.

What is happening there in Rwanda is beautiful. It is unexplainably beautiful. Not easy. Not quick. Not comfortable. But beautiful because it brings glory to the Only One who could write it.

with only a charcoal stove

2011-09-28T15:17:00.000-07:00

I've spend the last two years trying to find an African cookbook. That doesn't involve those garrish spreads from the 1970's. That doesn't feature westernized versions of African dishes. That isn't for gourmet chefs with access to ingredients I've never heard of. I just wanted to know a few of the dishes that the average African -- Rwandan, all the better -- eats.

And it turns out there's a reason they don't make those cookbooks. It's because the average African eats a plate of rice (or cassava or potato or maize flour mush) and beans. And nobody wants that recipe. And even if they did, it makes for an awfully short cookbook.

Here's another reason they don't make those cookbooks:

Because this is the equivalent of a commercial kitchen. This is Mama Fils making lunch for 250 boys who live on the street. There's one charcoal stove for the beans, two for the posho, a maize-flour mush that is a staple in East Africa. The typical kitchen just has a small charcoal stove and well, no kitchen. Maybe a covering or maybe an outbuilding to store a sacks of rice or beans. A couple pots and utensils. A dishpan.

Yep. No counters. No fridge. No running water. No well-stocked spice rack. No electric knife sharpener.

And it turns out there's a limited number of dishes you prepare, given these constraints.

Added to that, when the majority of your culture is eating to survive, there's just not a lot of attention given to culinary creativity. Eating to live is a whole different activity from the dining we do that serves more as a form of entertainment than sustenance.

Of course, this isn't the story for everyone. The middle and upper class (though remember, in Rwanda 60% live below the poverty line so this middle and upper class is not by a majority) have western-style kitchens or at least more than this most basic kitchen setup.

And can I just say that I love the food in Rwanda? The food is fresh, no weird colors or additives. Starches sing the lead and proteins and vegetables are the backup. Fruit - pineapple, passionfruit, tree tomato, papaya -- rounds off a meal. I love the matoke and peanut sauce, the spiced rice, the sweet bananas, the blackened fish, the beef brocchet, and the fries, I love the fries. Or chips. Or whatever they call them. And the akabanga, the spicy pepper sauce that I was given so much of I could start my own retail store. (And I'd do well, the stuff is great.)

But I have yet to eat the beans and posho. Maybe I can get the recipe from Mama Fils and create the very first Rwandan cookbook...

was it life changing?

2011-09-26T15:12:00.000-07:00

I don't like milk. And I really don't like whole milk. But then two weeks ago I was seated at an outdoor table in downtown Kigali, Rwanda and sipped my first African-style tea. Which led to my ordering it at every future opportunity.

Which led to me now sitting here, drinking a cup of hot milk infused with tea leaves and ginger, sweetened with a little sugar. I can't lie, this African-style tea is good...but it would be better with whole milk.

In a lot of ways, this story is a distillation of my experience with Rwanda. My tea-drinking preferences are among the more minor ways Rwanda and its people have impacted my life.

Now part of this, admittedly, is just the silly stuff you do when you love something. Kind of like how I once dated a guy that liked country music and so for those months of my life, I also liked country music. But that was worse, liking country music was a whole new level of ridiculousness. Whole milk is definitely not in that category. And of course, neither are any of the other little quirks I've acquired over my six-year relationship with Rwanda...the head nod, the headscarf I wear while working in the yard, the hand wave, the African-English grammatical constructions, and so on.

Rwanda has changed me in ways I didn't expect and has not changed me in ways I did expect. Which is pretty much true of the rest of life, right? Kids, school, marriage, career, ministry, they predictably take us to unpredictable places and those unpredictable places are where God meets us.

I thought Rwanda would give me a mission and clear purpose. I thought it would be a place where I would find something to really pour my life and energy into. I thought it would change my lifestyle -- beyond just the type of tea I drink. I thought it would lead to some radical, altruistic way of living. I thought it would be the means by which I would establish a unique identity for myself. I thought that it would be a place that I could accomplish something that I could be proud of, that would impress people. I thought it would break me in a way that others-centered living would just happen.

But it hasn't done any of these things, not yet anyway, and actually, I think that's a good thing. God is way more creative and way more authentic then pressing the Magical Rwanda Button to make me who He created me to be. In fact, to the contrary, He has painfully exposed many of these expectations for the prideful, self-centered idols that they are and has graciously not given me the second-best that life has to offer.

Rwanda has changed me where I least expected, where I least thought I wanted and needed change. I've tasted rich community and the amazing power and grace of the family of God. I've seen the ugliness of my flesh and the continual need I have of God's mercy. I've realized that poverty takes many forms and felt poverty of relationship. You can't see those things and remain unchanged.

But more than those things, God has used Rwanda to change my experience of Him. When I went to Rwanda two years ago, I went full of expectation that God had something great waiting for me there. And He did. It was Himself. I didn't expect that because I thought my relationship with Him was great. And it was, but there's always greater and so God used that time to draw me to Himself, to experience Him, in a deeper way. And that relationship touches every aspect of my life. In fact, within most of my current relationships and daily activities and ministry pursuits, I can find a thread of God via Rwanda.

So mostly Rwanda has been life changing because God is life changing. And that's a beautiful thing because God is as present here as He is there and none of us needs Rwanda or its equivalent to enter into God's presence and be changed. (And good thing too, because its a pretty expensive route to go.) Life is life changing. God has invited each of us into an adventure that will draw us to Himself and it is in that place, not sitting at a cafe in downtown Kigali, that truly changes us.

lent

2011-03-11T20:15:00.000-08:00

winter-ravaged,
it lays in stillness
surely abandoned --
warmth and care long gone from this place

wind-whipped,
and dressed in debris --
the remains of all that once was
collect around my feet

last season's failures
are all that is left,
at once mock and remind me
of where we have been

Cold-cracked
weakness revealed
with exacting cruelty --
the gaping wound oozing fatigue

But this is the place where hope is born.

Here, in the spent soil
is where the seed for new life is planted,
rising from a place
of silence
and disarray
and failure
and brokenness.

Here, in this place, lays true life.

Because of Jesus, we belong

2010-12-23T14:20:00.000-08:00

I was sweeping up the kitchen this morning, absent-mindedly listening to worship music, when a line caught my ear: "Your presence is where I belong."

Which struck me as funny. Because I read Leviticus 16 earlier today, and that, I'm pretty sure, is not a line that would have made it into any worship song back then.

Because back then, one person in the whole world got to go into God's presence one time each year. This one person had to take a special bath and wear special clothes and offer a special sacrifice. He had a special task to perform in that place and a special way to do that task. And it wasn't necessarily an ordeal he survived.

In fact, from the passage, it is pretty clear that no one really belonged in God's Presence. It's more just something He made allowance for so that this task -- of national religious significance -- could be completed.

I don't belong in God's Presence. Some days I feel that more than others. Some days I'm particularly ugly or needy or grumpy. But even on the good days, I don't really belong there. My feeble attempt at God-like-ness is pretty well inadequate all the time. And if the Very Best, Most Important Priest couldn't go into God's Presence whenever he wanted, there is pretty much no chance Very Ordinary Me can.

Except that Jesus came.

And when Jesus came, he came to die, and when he died, something happened: Mark 15 says, "The curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom." When Jesus died, God extended to each person an invitation into His Presence. We no longer have to be a special person, who does special things, so he can go visit God on a special day. Jesus' death, somehow, so completely forgave us, so completely covered up our sin, our unholiness, that we were transformed into holy people that have free access to God's presence.

Hebrews 10 says it this way, "Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water."

In other words, since we can, let's. Since we now can be with God, let's enjoy it! Let's do it with reverence, but with assurance and confidence right alongside.

the smell of prayer

2010-12-15T22:23:00.000-08:00

They say smell is the sense that the most strongly triggers memory and emotion. I think they're right. Intentional or not, people and places have scents: old books, cut wood, a perfume, household chemicals, they can all evoke a state of mind.

I wonder if that's how the incense in the Holy Place worked. If you walked into the Holy Place, straight in front of you, right in front of the thick curtain that separated the Holy Place from the Most Holy Place, sat the altar of incense, a relatively small golden box that the incense was burned upon.

And the incense was a special blend; we can't know for certain the exact identity of the ingredients referenced, other than frankincense, which even today is produced in great quantities in the region. The priest was to light the incense each morning and each evening, so the smell would have permeated the tent. What did it smell like? Not like a VW bus full of hippies, I hope. But likely woodsy, spicy, sweet.

Of the three items in the Holy Place, I have to admit, incense is the one that I don't quite get. I get it intellectually -- I know that incense represents prayer -- but there is a portion of this symbol, of its function in the Holy Place, that I'm still trying to understand, maybe even experience.

Prayer is being in God's presence. It is the process of getting me and God in the same room and getting us on the same page about something. I say my things, He says His things and when I've really prayed, when I've really sat down with God and talked and listened, it isn't much different than a human interaction. I understand Him, and I feel understood by Him.

But its not always like that. I guess sometimes my prayers feel more like the burning incense looks...eminating with strength and then vaninishing into the air before it even reaches the ceiling.

And maybe that's where the picture of incense becomes insightful, at least in part. The smoke would vanish from the burning of the incense, but the scent wouldn't have. It would have filled the tent. The prayers would be there, evidence of the offering would be present, even if it isn't seen.

There's a lot more to it, I'm sure. But for now, that's where I can start.

Joy in the Presence

2010-12-13T14:40:00.000-08:00

When we first moved to this home we now live in, the backyard was...well, it could barely be called 'yard'. It was an unruly wildland of hateful holly bushes, broken pipes and a tall, frightful fir that was about 30 years past its prime. But that wasn't the odd part. The odd part was the fencing.

The space, about 80 feet by 30 feet, was divided into various illogical compartments using various fencing materials of various ages. There was the "backyard proper", fenced in with wood, where grass grew green. This space was surrounded on most sides by the Backyard Wildlands where the grass was tall and brown and assorted brush grew up among fir cones. It was enclosed by a chain-link fence. Finally in a far corner existed The Far Netherlands of Backyardom. It had no fence. It was just a corner that had been UNfenced off as if the yard were in fear of claiming it as its own.

It reminded me of the tabernacle. I called the various spaces "the outer courts" or the "inner courts". I had no idea what I was talking about, but I had seen those diagrams and knew those places existed. The design sense (or any sense at all) in the backyard seemed completely absent, just like, I thought, the tabernacle design. But, as it turns out....as it too often does, I thought wrong. At least in the case of the tabernacle.

If you refer -- in your mind, I dare not post one here -- to any number of those nerdy tabernacle diagrams or illustrations, you'll see that there's a rectangle within a rectangle. There is a smaller rectangle covered tent surrounded by a rectangle cloth "wall". So when we first walk in to the tabernacle, and see the altar and the wash basin, we're in an outdoor courtyard. Walking past the altar and wash basin, we would see the "Inner Courts" or "Holy Place", a covered place of worship.

That the altar remained outside was good design: you're not supposed to make big fires in tents. Also, if there were a bunch of animals inside the tent, it would've felt kind like a circus and maybe a trapeze artist would've shown up to apply for a job.

But it seems in our relationship with God there are those natural divisions too. There's the part that everyone experiences, that everyone participates in together, that everyone sees. And then there are the parts that are more personal, more intimate with God.

That's what the Holy Place is. It's a place that is covered, smaller. I can't tell if just priests went into the Holy Place, or if that was open to everyone. Either way, as followers of Christ, we are adopted into the priesthood, so it hardly matters in terms of application to our own lives. But this smaller place had to have been accessed by fewer people. It certainly wasn't the place people would gather. It was the place to be in God's Presence.

The Holy Place had three distinct features: it had light. It had food. It smelled good. We'll get into those things later, but I mention them now to show it was an inviting place, a place, I imagine, of refreshment and joy. God's Presence does that, doesn't it? There are those mornings I wake up, go out to the couch and just sit down, close my eyes, and sigh, so ready to be with God. (Other days I go out, close my eyes and open them many minutes later, but...that's another thing.)

But we don't start in the Holy Place. They probably would've got more people in the door that way, putting the good stuff at the front, but that's not how it works. We have to deal with stuff before we can go into God's presence. We have to first have recognized Christ as our sacrifice, we have to allow God's Spirit to wash the ugly sin from our lives. No one entered the Holy Place perfect, but they had taken those steps to recognize their own inadequacy before God.

Being the modern American that I am, I like to jump to the good stuff. I try to pal around with God and then noticed he's not elbowing me back like He sometimes does. And sometimes I have go back to the front and start over again. Oh, yeah, I'm in need of grace. Oh, yeah, I have this wrong attitude, this wrong desire. And then I'm put in my place. I'm confronted with my unholiness, my need for a Savior and simultaneously, my guiltlessness before Him because of what He has done. I have a chance to clean those dirty spots in my life.

It makes God's presence all the sweeter. Being with Him is my only true source of joy, I've found. He is kind enough to send other things too, but there have been times I have nothing else.

"So, dear brothers and sisters, we can boldly enter heaven’s Most Holy Place because of the blood of Jesus. By his death, Jesus opened a new and life-giving way through the curtain into the Most Holy Place. And since we have a great High Priest who rules over God’s house, let us go right into the presence of God with sincere hearts fully trusting him. For our guilty consciences have been sprinkled with Christ’s blood to make us clean, and our bodies have been washed with pure water." Hebrews 10.19-22

clean peace

2010-12-10T11:11:00.000-08:00

After the sobering encounter with sacifice, we turn from the violent altar of peace to continue our walk through the tabernacle. And this is where we find the water fountain. Or, at least, the closest thing to a water fountain we're going to find in the tabernacle: the Brazen Laver.

Doesn't that sound scary? The Brazen Laver. That what the nerds call it anyway; we can call it a bronze wash basin. It probably looked something like a metal bird bath and was fashioned from the polished bronze mirrors that the women had brought out of Egypt. Filled with water, the priests were commanded to wash their hands and feet before approaching the altar to carry out their task.

Life is dirty. Even the most meticulous of us can't go through the day without getting dirty. You simply can't accomplish too many things without getting dirty; even sitting on your couch, you're going to collect dust and, presumably, need to use the bathroom at some point. That's life.

God knew that we, his servants, were bound to get dirty. But He is also holy and He calls us to a life of holiness. And that's why we need a wash basin. Through His Spirit, God has provided us a means of cleansing, or purification, or, to use the fancy theological term, sancification. We have the opportunity, at any time, to take a look at ourselves in this mirrored basin and allow God's Spirit to wash off the filth we have accumulated.

And this is a second important aspect of peace: the process of becoming perfect, complete or whole. This is a process that will never find its full end here on earth, but regular washing will bring us closer and closer to being the way God intended us to be.

Represented in the outer courtyard of the tabernacle, the altar and wash basin use practical images -- instead of the fancy nerd words -- to convey the essence of salvation, or peace with God. First, peace is achieved through violence, as Jesus takes all our sin and its punishment upon Himself and we are declared righteous. Second, peace is achieved through the gentle and ongoing work of God's Spirit as He clean us from the unrighteousness we pick up along the way.

Once again, this verse from Hebrews sums up the situation perfectly, "For by a single offering, he has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified." (Hebrews 10.14) Peace was achieved and is being achieved. Jesus gave himself as the single offering, which perfected ( think "peaced") -- in the past, already happened, tense -- each of us who are being -- in the present ongoing tense -- those who are being sanctified (again think "peaced").

Within Himself, God has provided for us complete peace.

the violence of peace

2010-12-09T14:48:00.000-08:00

By design, there was only one way to enter the tabernacle. A cloth "wall" enclosed the space and on one end there was a door way through which to enter.

And the first you saw after entering was not a pretty water fountain or crystal chandelier or even a welcome desk. No, it was an altar. Covered in blood. Embers from a recent fire glowing. The air smells like smoke. And chances are, at the moment you walked in, there was a goat or a cow being led up to this altar, bleating or bellowing their opposition to this unpleasant turn of events. A priest would come over and neatly cut the throat of this animal, collect the blood and proceed to fling it against the altar. Then the animals gets cut into organized little pieces and burnt on the altar.

How's that for "hello, we're glad you've chosen to worship with us this morning"?

Even in a culture that didn't get their meat nicely portioned and wrapped in styrofoam and cellophane, this had to be a sobering image. All the blood and death and guts and smoke and knives, the pain, the taking of life, the wincing as the animals neck was slit...

...this is what peace is.

Peace is violent. At least, peace as it refers to our reconciliation with God. In the tabernacle, an animal was brought to the altar to stand in place of the one offering it. That person would lay their hand on the animal as it would be killed, a representation that the punishment and guilt had been transferred to the animal. And in this way, sins were forgiven.

The way Jesus brought us peace was no less violent. Sure the baby in the manger one silent night in Bethlehem might have had its sweet, peaceful moments...but the real work of Jesus on the cross was quite the opposite in sentiment. It was ugly, gruesome, bloody, the pain, the taking of life, the wincing as the whip was laid into his flesh or as the hammer thudded against the nail being driven into his hands...

...this is what peace is.

And Jesus could've and would've risen back to do it over and over and over for each and every one of us, for each and every offense...but the 'could've' and 'would've' was enough. Hebrews 10.14 says, "For by a single offering, he has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified." That single sacrifice was enough for all, for everything, and we now stand before God perfected for all time.

Peace on earth, accomplished by an outpouring of love and sacrifice. "Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!" 2 Corinthians 9.15

the beautiful dwelling place

2010-12-06T14:29:00.000-08:00

It seems its mostly nerds that draw pictures and diagrams of the tabernacle. It can't be artists and poets, anyway, because every time I look at one of these pictures, I think, "Wow. That's really ugly." You'd think God would've employed a little more fung shui.

Of course, when you've got mostly animals skins and sticks to work with, I guess you've got some limitations. But still. It is unfortunate that those illustrations do not inspire.

Fortunately, the Bible didn't come with illustrations, it came with words.

Unfortunately, it was not a poet who wrote the words. It might have been an engineer. Or accountant. Either way, another nerd. Somebody for whom precision held greater sway over beauty. And as with the illustrations, these words do not exactly inspire.

Fortunately, the tabernacle was designed by the very one who defines beauty. And if we take the time to look, past the illustrations, past the words of material and measurement, into the actual picture of the tabernacle, the vision is too awesome to fully take in.

Some scholars go a little overboard with the symbolism of the tabernacle. As with all art forms, "sometimes a cigar is just a cigar." Did the type of cloth used mean something? Or was it just all that was available in the middle of the desert? Other details, for example, how the tabernacle was to be located centrally in the camp, surrounded by the twelve tribes, are an obvious picture of how God's presence is to be central, close by.

You can't help but see Christ in the picture of the tabernacle. It was a shadow of what we today enjoy with Jesus...which is yet a shadow of the reality that will someday enjoy with Jesus.

This week, I'm spending time in the outer courts with the concept of Peace.

Next, I'm going into the inner courts with the concept of Joy.

Finally, I'll enter the Holy of Holies with the concept of Love.

I'm not promising this'll be any less nerdy or more beautiful than those illustrations and diagrams, but I'm going to jump in anyway...

hope means "travel light"

2010-12-04T21:09:00.000-08:00

My favorite thing about camping, I'm pretty sure, is having an excuse to be stinky and dirty. That's why you don't need to bring many clothes. Or even shampoo. You just wear the same thing all the time. Because you can.

So I pack my favorite ugly camping shirt -- and wear it to death. I always intend to wear more clothes, but ... it just doesn't work out. And since most the clothes I would bring came back clean, I just stopped packing so many.

That's my other favorite thing about camping: seeing how I can live happily with so much less. I don't know I would be quite so happy two weeks in, but to think that we can distill our family's living essentials into the back of our mini van...when we normally fill up a big house...well, that just fascinating.

Dirtiness and a minimal lifestyle had to have been part of the wilderness camping experience for the Israelites leaving Egypt. Probably not so much the fascination and appreciation of those elements. But you only accumulate and spread out when you settle...when you're on a journey, you only take what you can't live without.

It must have gotten old. The only thing that must have kept them going was hope.

Hope depends on a promise. And the Israelites had one. They were told there was a special place waiting for them, a land that was going to be just perfect for them. And they were on their way there. Albeit, a kind of round-about way, but still. There was a reason they weren't settling; they knew something better was up ahead.

We have something better up ahead, too. We're also on our way to the Promised Land.

Hebrews 11 talks about people who live with this mindset their whole lives: "These all died....having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland...they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one...."

These words always grab me. I'm so drawn to the idea of a life of a pilgrim, a traveler...but then I look around me. I rather think it would sooner be said "looks like she made herself at home" than, "clearly, she was seeking a homeland".

But that being the case, I don't know it'd do any good to busy myself looking more traveler-like. What I need to do is remember the promise. When the promise, my hope, is firmly fixed, then traveling will happen.

I begin by "fixing [my] eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith". It is him who gives the promise, gives the hope, that will loosen the stiff muscles of apathy and get these legs moving.

camping with God

2010-12-03T14:15:00.000-08:00

It's Advent. So it seemed a reasonable time to do a quiet tip-toe, tip-toe back into blogland. Shhh!

A long, long time ago, in the mountains of Israel, God went camping. The astonishing thing is not that God went camping -- perfectly pleasant activity that it is -- its who he went camping with. He went camping with a bunch of needy, whiny idiots.

Who you camp with makes all the difference. This summer we got to camp with some friends. They were camping a couple hours away in the Wallowa Mountains and invited us to join them, all we needed to bring was our tent and a little food -- they would bring the rest of the camping gear. Let me tell you: that is the way to camp. Find some people you like, find a beautiful location with plenty to do, AND have your friends do all the work! We hardly had to pack anything and arrived at this well-appointed campsite: nicely furnished fire pit, kitchen shelter with stand-alone campstoves, coolers and boxes full of food, dishwashing station...and we didn't have to pack a single match. That alone would've made for a nice weekend, but the company we enjoyed made it far surpass simply being 'nice'.

God, on the other hand, didn't have it so great. These people God decided to camp with were needy. So needy, they had to first be rescued from slavery before they could even go camping together. Neither were they well-equipped for their journey. They packed what they could, but a lifetime of brick-making had ill-prepared them for being out on their own in the wilderness. Its fair to say that God did all the packing -- or providing for -- on the trip.

These people were not the most pleasant to camp with either. Just a couple days into their "slaves on religious vacation in the wilderness" thing -- before they had even been fully delivered out of slavery -- they begin whining and supposing that they were, in fact, better off without their leader (and God). So God really had ample warning. But he went ahead and destroyed the Egyptian army anyway, releasing these slaves into freedom. Which was followed by worship, which was followed by more whining.

And yet God chose to camp with them.

He laid out plans for his tent, which was called a tabernacle, that served as a picture of how it would be possible to have a Holy God living among a wretched people. The tabernacle was a visual, tangible way for the Israelites to know God was among them, that He desired to be close to them. The tabernacle announced undeniably, "God is with us."

Many years later God laid out plans to again live among his people. This time he didn't camp in a tent, he camped in a body, wrapping a part of Himself in human flesh. And so "God with us," Emmanuel, came down to accomplish what that first tabernacle could only do in part.

The people He chose to dwell among were still as ugly and useless as they were first time He came down. As still as much in need of all that "God with Us" has to offer. As still as independent and whiny as they were from the beginning.

And yet God chose to dwell among us.

The tabernacle is not the typical emblem of Christmas. But I wonder if there's something in that first "God among us" situation that gives insight into the second. And so, this season, I'm going to camping with God.

M&M Cookies...that you will love

2010-06-10T15:00:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time I had an M&M cookie from Safeway. And since then, I've been on a quest to duplicate it. Not a very serious quest. More of a careless jaunt through the forest quest. Last week I worked out a recipe I like. Except, its been a few years since I last had a Safeway M&M cookie, so by now I have no idea how this compares. Either way, I do like these cookies...

Cream:
1 c. white sugar
1/2 c. brown sugar
1/2 c. shortening
1/2 c. unsalted butter

Add:
1 egg
1 1/2 tsp vanilla

Then blend in:
2 1/2 c. flour
2 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt

Reserve:
1/2 c. M&Ms

Stir in:
1 c. M&Ms

Drop your dough onto a cookie sheet and push a few of the reserved M&Ms on top of the cookie to make it look pretty. Bake at 350 for 12-15 minutes.

Cookie Chemistry

2010-06-10T14:48:00.000-07:00

I was flipping through the Costco coupons last week, when I saw what I thought was a joke: a coupon for "Hollywood Cookie Diet" cookies.

Google quickly told me that the Hollywood Cookie Diet replaces cookies with meals. Basically you eat a cookie or two for breakfast, a cookie or two for lunch and a normal dinner. And yeah. They're cookies. Fortified, 150-calorie cookies.

Turns out, according to this, I have been dieting my whole life.

I also, though serious investigative work, have determined that Cookie Love is likely a hereditary trait. Much like the tendency certain families have towards chemical dependency, the individuals in my family have a tendency towards cookie dependency, eating whole batches of cookies on a semi-consistant basis.

And, it turns out, the chemistry between us and cookies all comes down to...chemistry.

Cookie making is a science. The type of fat used, the amount of sugar, the protein content of the flour...each can dramatically alter the end product, giving you on one extreme, crispy pancake cookies with no substance -- or the other, those dense, dry, mountain-like cookies I remember trying to get down with a class of Kool-Aid during VBS. Although the perfect cookie is akin to the holy grail (you'll never find it), we can enjoy better cookies through chemistry:

who you callin'
FAT

Shortening is 100% fat and has a higher melting temperature. Which is why cookies made with shortening hold their shape a little better. (People who eats lots of shortening, on the other hand?....not so much.)
Butter is about 80% fat -- the rest water -- and has a lower melting temperature. So cookies made with butter will spread.
No respectable cookie maker uses margarine, which possesses the worst qualities of the previous fats and none of their better qualities.

gimmee some o' dat
SUGAR

Sugar keeps things sweet and tender. But before you go confusing marriage advice with cookie advice, remember that sugar will brown your cookies and more there is, the more your cookies will spread.

White table sugar makes cookies hard and crisp.
Brown sugar keeps cookies soft because the additional ingredients are hydroscopic and pull moisture from the air around it. They also have a little extra moisture that can increase the spread of the cookie.
Corn syrup has even more moisture than brown sugar, and will not only increase the spread, but also make a cookie browner and the surface of a cookie crisper.

wild
FLOUR

Flour seems unassuming enough, but the protein it carries can be a powerful tool -- for good or evil.

The protein in bread flour browns in the oven and quickly soaks up water, causing a cookie to be dry and crisp. Gluten forms more readily in high protein flour, which lends to a chewier cookie -- just make sure the liquid gets to the flour before the fat does.
Cake flour, which is low-protein, makes for light-colored, tender, puffy (cake-like) cookies.
And your average all-purpose flour has properties that lay somewhere in the middle.

stairway to
LEAVEN

The difference between baking powder and baking soda is this: like your classic 70's hippie, baking powder packs its own acid. The resulting acidic dough bakes faster and spreads less. Typically 1 tsp of baking powder is needed for each cup of flour...which might be why baking soda is often used: only 1/4 tsp of baking soda is needed for each cup of flour. The less-acidic dough made with baking soda not only spreads a little more, it helps to brown the cookie.

a little, lovely
LIQUID

Gotta have liquid in a cookie. Unless you're baking hockey pucks. A tablespoon of liquid -- milk, water, egg -- is often all the moisture that is needed for the steam needed to puff the cookie up a bit. Eggs hold a cookie together, but the white dry a cookie out.

And so here it is, the Magical Cookie Tweaking Tips

For Flatter Cookies:

use all butter
use high protein flour
add 1-2 Tbsp water or milk
add 1-2 Tbsp sugar
bake room temperature dough
bake at 325 for a longer time

For Puffier Cookies:

use all shortening, or substitute part of the butter for shortening
use one egg for the liquid in the recipe -- reduce egg to one if recipe calls for more than one
cut sugar by 2-4 Tablespoons
use baking powder instead of baking soda
bake chilled dough
bake at 375 for a shorter time

For more Tender cookies:

use cake flour
add 2-4 Tbsp sugar
add 2-4 Tbsp fat

For Chewier Cookies:

use bread flour
use more brown sugar than white sugar
form gluten by mixing 1 Tbsp of water or milk with flour before adding to fat (if using butter, melt the butter and mix it with the flour long enough for gluten to form)

For Crispier Cookies:

substitute 1-2 Tbsp of sugar with corn syrup
use high protein flour
increase ratio of white to brown sugar

finally home

2010-05-22T09:28:00.000-07:00

One day last June I was standing in a field of freshly cleared banana trees. Enclosed by banana trees and tall grasses, Rwandan melodies rose into the air -- simple, pure, joyous, held together with steady, rythmic clapping.

We were celebrating. We were celebrating God's goodness, His intervention in the lives of these kids who once lived alone on the street...and alongside them, I was celebrating God's intervention in my life. What I've been rescued from seems no less miraculous, though hard to relegate to a sentence or two.

There in Kayonza, Rwanda, we dedicated the ground and building that would soon be built for these young men through a donation made by my late aunt's trust fund.

When I saw them, the boys were living in a makeshift room -- an empty classroom, that had been crammed with three-tiered bunk beds. Some had added their own personal touches with letters or drawings that had been taped upon the painted brick walls. It looked much neater than I would have expected from a room inhabited by a bunch of 10-17 year old boys.

And then, one day, the room was returned to a classroom as the boys dismantled their beds and moved everything nearly a half a football field away to the Umucyo (oo-MOO-chyoh) Home. Kinyarwandan for 'light', Umucyo Home will serve as a place of hope and truth, while bearing a subtle reference to the woman whose life brought blessing to these young men -- my late aunt's name, Elaine, means 'light'.

A central gathering area is flanked by sleeping areas for 24 on each side. The central area also has laundry and shower facilities. Toilets will be located in a separate outdoor facility. Until recently, the Africa New Life campus in Kayonza did not have a viable sanitation system. Through fundraising efforts, most of the cost of installing one has been raised and construction on the project has now begun. And to think, when completed, most of the kids here will use a flush toilet for the first time in their lives!

The 16 young men in the Umucyo Home are sponsored, but the sponsorship does not currently cover the administrative costs of running the home. After about a year of seeking a sponsor to cover the remaining amount needed -- about $11,000/year for this group of boys -- the Grace Foundation in Florida has agreed to fund part of the costs. When the home is full with 48 boys, about $33,000 will be needed.

Just moments after viewing these pictures, I got a message from one of my Rwandan friends, a young man who lived on the street and was sponsored by Africa New Life. He lived in the Kanombe Home -- where these young men lived before they were forced from their home by exorbitant rent increases. My friend is now headed to university and has the same dreams and potential -- perhaps more -- of any other person his age in Rwanda. His love for God is great and has been an example and encouragement to my own life.

So I look at the pictures of these young boys and I see what my friend has become and I am filled with joy. God is good.

book report: When Helping Hurts

2010-04-21T11:04:00.000-07:00

I just read the best book on poverty alleviation. EVER.

There have been several times in the last couple years where the relationship I had with "the poor" didn't sit right. I was "helping" them, but it felt wrong. I've also spent a lot of time simmering ideas for work I want to do among the materially poor, both local and global. And reading this book was a lot like the first time I put glasses on in 2nd grade. Everything became astonishingly clear.

This is the only book that I have ever had to decide who to loan it out to first. So since it might be a while until I see it again, I wanted to summarize what it talks about so I can correctly keep talking about it forever and ever. Lucky world!

A brief summary of what Michelle got out of
When Helping Hurts: How to alleviate poverty without hurting the poor...and yourself
By Steve Corbett and Brian Fikkert
(available from amazon.com for $10)

When Helping Hurts starts by presenting something I've wanted for a long time: an explanation of poverty from a biblical perspective. Understanding the "big picture" is important: you can't effectively alleviate poverty without knowing how it got there in the first place.

We have to start with Jesus. The book states, giving biblical support, "Jesus came to reconcile -- put in right relationship -- all that He created." It goes on to say that the mission of the church, then, is an extension of Jesus' ministry: "to preach the good news of the kingdom in word and in deed." It briefly presents how the church has handled poverty throughout history.

Defining the cause of poverty directly affects how we will treat it. For example, if we think the cause is a lack of material resources, then we will give the poor material resources...if we think the cause is a lack of knowledge, then we try to educate them. Ultimately, however, poverty is the result of broken relationships -- at the foremost, it is the result of a broken relationship with God, but it is also the result of a broken relationship with self, others, and the rest of creation.

Individuals are connected to the systems they live in. Broken individuals result in broken systems -- political, economic, social, and religious. And broken systems result in broken individuals. Assigning responsibility solely to the individual or solely to the system is incomplete.

This framework also recognizes that material poverty isn't the only type of poverty. Since we all have broken/imperfect relationships, we are truly all poor, be it material, spiritual, relational, emotional, etc. "One of the major premises of this book is that until we embrace our mutual brokenness, our work with low-income people is likely to do more harm than good. [...] One of the biggest problems in many poverty-alleviation efforts is that their design and implementation exacerbates the poverty of being of the economically rich -- their god-complexes -- and the poverty of being of the economically poor -- their feelings of inferiority and shame."

If these broken relationships are the cause of poverty, then poverty alleviation is "the ministry of reconciliation: moving people closer to glorifying God by living in right relationship with God, with self, with others, and with the rest of creation." Materially speaking, this reconciliation process includes helping people to support themselves. Spiritually speaking, this reconciliation process includes addressing people's need to restore their relationship with God by accepting Christ as their Lord and Savior -- poverty alleviation has limited effectiveness if this is not the case. To replace a materially poor person's values with middle-class values only replaces their former worldview with a modern worldview...that people can be their own salvation.

True poverty alleviation is a process that involves people...not a project to be done or a product that we end with. That makes lasting work hard and slow. But quick fixes are a waste of time, so in the end, this process approach is a better investment.

If all of what has just been said is true, then the church is a prime candidate for effective poverty alleviation.

After establishing this framework for understanding poverty, the book moves on to some practical principles. The first distinction made is between relief (urgent and temporary provision of emergency aid, often in the form of material assistance, to reduce immediate suffering from a natural or man-made crisis -- this "working for" is intended to "stop the bleeding"), rehabilitation (seeks to restore communities to their "pre-crisis" condition -- this is characterized by "working with") and development (ongoing change that moves all people -- helpers and helped -- along in the relationship reconciling that restores us to what God created us to be). To offer "relief" assistance to people who are at a "rehabilitation" or "development" stage typically brings everyone further from God's ideal than closer to it. The book describes basic principles for each stage, emphasizing the need to avoid paternalism and not do things for people that they can do for themselves.

Once the stage of material poverty is identified, it is important to ask those who are in need of assistance asset-based questions like, "What gifts has God given you that you can use to improve your life and that of your neighbors?" instead of need-based questions: "What is wrong with you? How can I fix you?" Three Asset-Based Community Development strategies are explained: asset mapping, participatory learning and action, and appreciative inquiry. Poverty alleviation requires significant participation of the poor involved in order to have any type of success. "Doing to" or "doing for" others demeans the community of people involved and has virtually no long term impact.

The book finally moves onto practical strategies for effective poverty alleviation, both local and global. It discusses the potential harm short-term missions groups can have, offering suggestions for improving the positive impact they can have on those who go and the communities they go to. It offers practical, effective ministry models that churches can establish in their own communities that address both the broken individual and broken system. Next it explores the microfinance movement that is being used in the Majority World (countries where most people live in poverty) -- and why they sometimes work and sometimes don't -- and why Savings and Credit Associations are often a better model for alleviating poverty. Finally it briefly touches on Business As Missions -- viable businesses that are vehicles for ministry.

what Grandpa Meurer taught me about grace

2010-02-27T13:25:00.000-08:00

He moved here shortly after his wife passed away. To be close to family, I assume, since that's the only reason I can imagine he would choose to leave the Pacific Northwest, where he'd built a lifetime of friends and memories. But he did. He left all of that and came to the deserts of Eastern Washington.

And so it was, at the age of 90, he was swimming in our pool one hot August afternoon.

A small, incredulous giggle escaped when I looked out the window and saw it. Sure, he had a little help -- the whole family was over to swim and enjoy some dinner -- but Grandpa Meurer was more comfortable in this situation than I imagined I would be at his age.

At that poing in time, I have to confess I knew very little about this man. He was my husband's grandfather, so I had only a handful of family visits to draw from. What I did know is that he loved good food. So that summer evening, I went back to the kitchen to make good on a promise for apple-blueberry pie that I had made two years prior.

In the past year and a half, Grandpa Meurer went from swimming in our pool, enjoying ribeye steaks and hosting milkshake parties to being unable to walk or remember things well and needing the specialized care of a nursing home. He was hospitalized recently for low blood platelets. While there, he was alert and in good spirits, but I knew then that our time with him was quickly coming to an end.

And this week he left us to go to his true home. He went home just as he lived: with grace.

I saw his grace the very first time we met. Brian and I were visiting them in their home in Olympia and after dinner, they all decided to play bridge. I went along with it, even though my card playing IQ is in the negative digits. It simply isn't an intelligence I possess. I witnessed Grandpa Meurer's grace that night because he was stuck as my partner. I do not remember the game well, except that he was very patient and that we did not win. And also, that they did not ever ask me again to play bridge.

I don't know I fully recognized this quality in Grandpa Meurer until after Grandma Meurer had passed away. She was the smartest old lady I've ever met and had a strong personality to match. For me, it wasn't until after she was gone, that he came to life. Suddenly, he was full of stories and jokes, questions and answers. What I had previous mistaken as his being quiet or passive or admittedly, at times, not very bright, I see now as his marvelous example of grace. He took the blame, he shifted the spotlight, responded with gentleness, not because of failure or unworthiness or personality but because he chose to.

That's grace.

Of course, when I finally understood this, my respect for Grandpa Meurer suddenly grew, a respect that has proven well-founded over the past year and a half.

Aging is not for the faint of heart or proud of spirit. Which is why Grandpa Muerer handled it so well. Aging requires a certain amount of compromises, which he peacefully negotiated. The indignities of having someone help you bathe or change your underclothes, eating a meal with people who cough all over your food or prattle on incessantly, being limited in the schedule you keep or the places you go or the people you see, having your requests or complaints ignored because of your age or perceived ability to understand things, the loneliness and depression....these he bore without whining. He was slow to let his personal discomfort impose on anyone else.

That's grace.

A couple months ago, I was in the room he had to share with another person at the nursing home. I had asked a few questions and had shared the latest stories from our life when we reached an uncomfortable silence. I'm not a skilled conversationalist, but I'd always assumed that lame conversation was better than none, so as boring as it must have been for him, I'd visit anyway. Grandpa broke the silence: "I'm sorry I'm not more entertaining..." I protested, flubbering my way through what could have been a more comforting response. But that he would be so thoughtful as to be concerned with my entertainment? When he was sitting, with a pained back, in a wheelchair in a dark room while a stranger was watching TV in a corner?

That's grace.

Grandpa Meurer, especially in the past six months, had many limitations. His visible weakness made it seem that it was I who had strength, that perhaps it was I who helped him. Now that he is gone, I can see how it really is: Grandpa offered me much more than I could offer him. He taught me more about grace than a book ever could. He embodied it. He showed me what it is to live, and to die, with grace.

Midweek, just after I learned that Grandpa Meurer was in the last days or weeks of his life, I ran into the verse that says "God gives grace to the humble". And so I found myself asking God to give to Grandpa Meurer what Grandpa Meurer had given us all these years. I had understood that he was afraid and, in spite of the faith he confessed, had doubt about what death would bring. Also, that his organs were slowly shutting down, that his lungs were slowly filling with fluid, seemed to be a potentially long and painful and, frankly, frightening way to die. I also knew morphine was no more calming or painless for him. So I asked for grace.

I went to see Grandpa on Thursday night. Kathy, my mother-in-law, was already there. There was peace -- undoubtedly from her lifestyle of prayer -- that permeated the room where Grandpa was lying, eyes closed, mouth open, bare chest steadily rising and falling. Kathy tried to rouse him, but he remained as he was. But when I took his hand, he wouldn't let go. We prayed together, Kathy and I, and when we were done, Grandpa's eyes were open. We got excited and talked to him; as we did, his eyes lit up and a a faint smile -- the biggest he could manage -- spread across his face. It was his last expression of grace to me. That last moment with Grandpa is one I'll never forget. His joy, the peace in that room, the grace we all rested in...

Feeling assured then that Grandpa Meurer was resting in spiritual grace, I began to ask more earnestly for physical grace. I went in Friday morning to pray with him, he remained unresponsive while I prayed, but his hands were warm, his skin smooth, and his breathing unlabored. He seemed no different than many other times when I have visited him in previous months. I was concerned this could take a while. But it was the next morning that he went home.

While those finals hours must have been agonizing, there felt a victory in the quickness of it, a confirmation of God's grace in his life. That he went in peace, so quickly, was a beautiful thing.

"Because Grace makes beauty / Out of ugly things." U2 - Grace

adventures with NERD GIRL!

2010-02-13T14:39:00.000-08:00

"Truly, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven." Matthew 18.18

What does that mean? What does it mean to be "bound" and "loosed"?

I've wondered that a hundred times, I've heard a handful of explanations for and uses of this verse (all leaving me rolling my eyes and thinking, "obviously YOU don't know what you're talking about..."), but I don't think I've heard it discussed until this past week at small group. We all concluded the same thing: it's confusing and hard to explain. Thusly igniting my curiousity and overnight I was transformed into...duh-duh-DUMB! NERD GIRL!

I report my findings here only as a matter of collecting my thoughts.

A note as we commence: There are some UNbiblical interpretations of this passage -- say, thinking that it means that the church has the power to forgive sins. And there are some interpretations that only make sense if Jesus had ADD and jumped around to random topics every sentence. There are some explanations that make sense for the first passage, but have no application to its doppelganger in Matthew 16.19. These have to be rejected as an, at best, incomplete interpretation of the passage. Not that the following explanation IS complete, but hopefully it is based on historical fact, patterns of biblical truth and the assumption that Jesus makes sense.

We begin with some general observations:

OBSERVATION #1: This phrase -- word for word -- occurs twice in the Bible. They are both in Matthew. Matthew was written to a Jewish audience. Therefore, without any research, we can conclude that this was a concept familiar to those of the Jewish faith. And likely not to those outside the Jewish faith.

OBSERVATION #2: Concerning grammar and vocabulary: the term "bind"/"bound" means "forbid" or "prohibit", the term "loose"/"loosed" means "permit" or "allow", and the verb tense used in reference to heaven is "future perfect indicative", implying a state of completion -- thus, "shall be bound" is more accuately translated "shall have been bound".

OBSERVATION #1 + OBSERVATION #2 + RESEARCH = To the listeners of Jesus' day, the terms "loose" and "bind" were associated with the law. They and referred to the practice of the Sanhedrin (board of religious leaders who decided important things) who would "loose" (allow) particular acts or things or "bind" (forbid) them. There were factions that tended to "bind", and those that tended to "loose". (I would like to imagine that the "binders" would, upon running into a person of the opposite faction, hold his fingers up into an "L" on his forehead and call out, "looser!" But I've no proof of that occurance.)

This was all rather silly because these "binders" and "loosers" had been given no authority to call a certain thing or act allowed or prohibited. They were just pretending.

It was also rather silly because instead of leading to unity, it created division and confusion.

HYPOTHETICAL CONCLUSION: Based on that context, let me suggest a general paraphrase of the passage: "I give you authority not just to make decisions, but to enforce them. Because the deciding on what to allow and what not to allow will have been done in heaven (and communicated to you by the Holy Spirit for action here on earth) the fruit of these decisions will be unity and maturity."

It's like the religious leaders of Jesus' day were the babysitters. Not the fun babysitters, the older sibling babysitters that, in a feeble grasp for authority or power, made up ridiculous rules and punishments (...THAT'S not a description taken from experience...). And Jesus is making the leaders of His Church the parents -- caregivers and leaders with authority who are acting according to biblical principles and relying on the Holy Spirit to make decisions.

We, Jesus' disciples (and most notably, our leaders) "loose" and "bind" things by applying the principles of Jesus' teaching to a local situation. For example, Peter "loosed" the early Christian Gentiles from the Jewish laws. Heaven initiated this "loosing" through Jesus' teachings and the Holy Spirit's leading and so it bore God's authority.

But of course, if this is a hypothesis, we have to test it. (However, the train stops here and if you want to get off...)

EXPERIMENT #1 - Matthew 16.13-20

Jesus is with his disciples and wants to know where they're at in their faith, if they KNOW without a doubt that He is the Messiah. Peter is the one to boldly assert what none of the other disciples would: that indeed Jesus was the Christ. Here is Jesus' response:

"Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven. And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven."

Realizing this passage is subject to differing viewpoints, I will offer that which seems to make sense to me. Here's my own paraphrase:

"Good for you, Peter! No person told you that, you didn't figure it out on your own, it was God -- through your relationship and sensitivity to Him -- who revealed that to you. You are SO Peter...and your "Peter-ness" -- certainty and enthusiasm and boldness of faith...will be the foundation for the church, which will persist beyond all odds. All you guys have the keys to the kingdom. You're in charge of opening this whole thing up to everyone else, so they will know what they need to do to enter my kingdom. You have a direct line to God, who rules over this kingdom, and through both the teachings I've already given you and the guidance of the Holy Spirit, you will have authority to communicate (and enforce, if necessary) what God's standards are for His followers."

I think that works.

EXPERIMENT #2 - Matthew 18.15-20

"If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained your brother. But if he does not listen, take one or two others along with you, that every charge may be established by the evidence of two or three witnesses. If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church. And if he refuses to listen even to the church, let him be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector. Truly, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven. Again I say to you, if two of you agree on earth about anything they ask, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them."

This passage concerns conflicts that arise between believers, presumably those that involve wrong-doing and affect the health of the group. The goal of the instruction is unity, that believers should spare no effort to restore relationships:

First, we're instructed to address the problem personally and directly. If that doesn't bring unity, take along a couple impartial and sympathetic assisants (not necessarily church authorities). This is for the benefit of BOTH parties. It ensures objectivity and an outside perspective -- some of us are not so great at communicating and sometimes we think another person has wronged us when we, in fact, are the ones in the wrong.

And if THAT doesn't work, then it needs to be addressed by the church. The leaders of the church need to get involved and if necessary, deal with sin publically. If repentance doesn't happen, you simply can't relate to that person as a fellow believer anymore, but as a "tax collector or Gentile" -- which, from what I can tell, Jesus reached out to. The goal is not to persecute or despise the individual, but to restore them to a right relationship with God and others.

Jesus then asserts that his disciples have authority to maintain purity and unity of the church. God's followers have direct access to knowing what are God's laws, His desires for us. So if, as they apply Jesus' teachings and follow God's Spirit, the leaders of the church find it necessary to remove the contamination of sin, they have the OK from God to do so.

Continuing on that thought, Jesus confirms the power of those who are gathered in unity and who are following what He has commanded. The point is that two people who are unified and following God are a million times more powerful and effective (in prayer, service, discernment of truth and even church discipline) than a thousand people who are living in discord and wrong living. Devotion to God's law is to be pursued, in love, at all costs -- even if it is awkward and inconvenient and humbling.

This one works for me too. What do you think?

And there you have it! A long answer to a question you didn't even ask! Oh, the thrill!

Until next time, this is Nerd Girl, signing off...

seek: a paraphrase

2010-02-03T14:22:00.000-08:00

A word flood fell over me last week as I was reflecting on Matthew 6.25-34 and this passage came alive with specifics. Maybe these words were just meant for me -- not everyone is distracted by the same things. Still, sometimes hearing another persons specifics helps us identify our own -- and if it doesn't do that, then just go and read the passage yourself and let God do the talking instead of me.

Don't Worry, Seek God's Kingdom
Matthew 6.25-34
A Paraphrase...perhaps especially for moms, perhaps just me

You can't go in two directions at once; you can't whole-heartedly pursue two opposing things. So don't.

You can't trust Me to take care of your needs and, at the same time, worry.

You can't give Me the needs of your heart and the needs of your body...and hold onto them at the same time.

You can't worship both Me and the material world.

You can't navel-gaze while you seek My face.

You can't live for what lasts if all your thoughts revolve around what doesn't.

What I mean is this:

You don't need to worry about your future...about the possible instability of your -- or your husband's -- job or business ventures...about health problems you or your family might encounter...about how you will afford clothes or food or any of the other material things you feel you need. I want you to come to Me first. I want to be the primary source for your needs. I am more than able to provide.

Stop trying to create your own perfection. Don't worry about how you look to Me. I've given you My righteousness and I want you to accept that for yourself and just rest in that. Don't worry about how you look to others. You know how tiring -- and futile -- it is, trying impress others with your faith or your abilities or how much you know.

Don't obsess over being the perfect mom. You aren't, and you're not going to be. Don't be distracted over what you think other people will say about how you parent, keep your eyes on Me and I will give you what you need to care for your kids. And don't forget that your children and their future are not entirely in your hands. Release them to Me; I can be trusted to care for them.

Don't obsess over being the perfect wife. Or sister. Or daughter. Or friend. Or Facebooker. I want you to love these people, but don't the pressures or concerns or disappointments you feel from these relationships take over your life.

Don't spend your days researching "the best stuff to get". I know you want to make wise purchases -- on your next camera and household cleaners and clothes -- just don't let the pursuit of those things take away from what really matters. Surrender these concerns to Me, let Me be the one to provide you with money and wisdom.

Don't worship your appearance. Aren't there better ways to spend your time than trying to look good?

I want you to enjoy comfort and beauty, but don't give these things more importance than they deserve.

Don't worry about what you eat. Give it attention, think about it...but is spending all your time and money on eating -- be it organic or local or easy or cheap or gourmet -- what you want your life to be about?! It's just food.

Don't let good health be your highest goal. I designed your body to work well, but don't let your pursuit of "feeling good" be the ultimate goal. I know sometimes your health and the decisions you have to make about it can seem like such a big deal at the time. I know you have to take care of these things, but you don't have to freak out over them. Leave the freaking out to the people of the world.

This applies to your kids' health too. You can have the healthiest kids on the planet, but if that's all you have, what good is that? You have legitimate concerns and needs, but don't be so preoccupied with health and comfort that you neglect more important things.

Don't worry about whether you're good enough. Don't spend all your time thinking about whether or not you matter, or looking for approval, or wondering if you're going to make a difference in this world. (Sure fire way to prevent significance is to sit around all day and wish for it, right?) If looking for Me is your first concern, then these things will fall into place.

Life gives you a lot to worry about -- I'm not asking you pretend like it doesn't, to think happy thoughts until reality fades into the distance. I'm just asking you to seek Me. I want you to bring these to Me instead of holding onto them yourself.

You know how you watch your kids play and wish life could be that simple again? They don't worry about how their next meal will come to them. They don't let possible future disaster affect how they live today. They aren't preoccupied with their own significance. They don't worry about what anyone thinks of them. I mean, they don't even worry that the tree branch they're climbing might break!

They just take one day -- one moment! -- at a time. They believe you, their parent, are able to protect them from anything bad that might come and so they don't worry about anything. They just trust.

Be like that. Unlike you, I CAN provide for all your needs. I AM able to protect you from what you fear. So come to Me.

I want to be your food; I want to be your source of Life, all of it: physical, emotional, spiritual. And I want to be your clothes; I want My righteousness to cover you. That way you can do your best to live as you ought without don't worrying about how you look -- to Me, or to anyone else.

Just doing what needs to be done each day takes a lot of your time and energy...I'm just saying, don't let it take your heart. The people of this world live for life, but I want you to live for something greater, something that will last.

seek: inside/outside

2010-02-02T20:53:00.000-08:00

One of the unexpected, wonderful thing about our view is the powerlines that dissect the overlook we have of the valley. It's not so much the lines that we enjoy, but the birds that sit on them. Comic relief is just glance away.

The thing about these doves is that they're super-chill. They just sit and watch -- never facing us; they know where the view is.

I don't know what doves eat. I know the hawks that circle the field close to our house eat mice; I've see them dive for them and fight with each other mid-air over a catch. I know the sparrows go crazy over the tiny seeds that grow on the yet-unidentified evergreen bush that grows on the west side of our house. The pheasants meander through our garden in the summer, the robins munch on spring-time worms. But the doves? Short of the three times a year we remember to toss out birdseed, I don't think I've noticed them eating. But they must.

Maybe it was the doves that Jesus was talking about in Matthew 6 when he said:

Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you far more valuable to him than they are? Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?

We don't know if doves were the birds Jesus refers to in these verses, but historical botanists believe that this was the flower that is mentioned later in the passage, anenome coronaria:

And why worry about your clothing? Look at the lilies of the field and how they grow. They don’t work or make their clothing, yet Solomon in all his glory was not dressed as beautifully as they are. And if God cares so wonderfully for wildflowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little faith?

These flowers grow wild on the rugged hillsides and just burst into bloom one day, an impromptu fashion show. Have you noticed how immaculately designed gardens have nothing on these wildflower displays?

So Jesus compares the concerns of our life to those of the birds and the flowers, asking "Isn't life more than food, and the body more than clothing?"

Jesus probably picked these things -- birds and food, flowers and clothes -- because everyone could identify with them. But those of us who've studied literature can be counted upon to find so many more reasons Jesus might have picked these examples. Fortunately, you will not be disappointed in this regard.

Food is a basic need, required for anyone who wants to remain alive. Not getting enough of it results in diminished physical ability. It is something we need on the inside; it is an internal need.

Clothes are also a basic need, most particularly for those in colder climates. In the most basic sense, they shelter us from the elements of nature -- those in harsh conditions with insufficient clothing can encounter illness or even death. On another level, one no less significant, clothes help us create an identity, they tell "who we are". Men dress differently from women, Americans dress differently than Afghanis, old people dress differently from young people. Throughout the Bible, clothes embody the identity of a person. Clothes are something we need on the outside; it is an external need.

Then we get to the part of the passage that says "But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you." I admit that I got stuck. I've heard the verse a million times and I'd always only heard "seek first the kingdom of God". It was the second part of the command that confused me "seek...his righteousness". And had righteousness stood alone, it would've made sense, but the pronoun threw me. His righteousness?

Then it clicked. Food. Clothes. Inside. Outside. Seek the kingdom -- seek God's presence and reign on the inside. Seek his righteousness -- seek the garments, the identity, of honor and goodness on the outside.

God's presence is our sustenance. He is our breath. Without adequate intake of him, we are nothing, our ability to live is limited. We partake of Him and He powers all that takes place in our day, from serving someone to singing in the car to running down the stairs to get a load of laundry. Seeking God is the inside part.

God's righteousness is the outside part. It is two-fold. In one sense, it is us accepting His perfection for us instead of trying to make our own perfection. In another sense, it is seeking to do what he defines as being right or best instead of what we define as being right. It is seeking to be as we ought to be in feeling, thought and action.

If we seek these two things -- God's presence and reign in our life and God's righteousness -- we will be free from a divided heart that worries itself with the things the world chases after.

seek: on running into parked cars

2010-02-01T19:41:00.000-08:00

(So there is a passage that has grabbed me by the neck and, in the most polite of ways, given me a good shake. It is found in Matthew 6.25-34 and -- to borrow a popular phrase -- its doppelganger, in Luke 6.22-34. In attempt to release its grip, I share my thoughts here.)

Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?

Matthew 6.25

We went to the library last week. My book was due. And I was returning it on time, so this was somewhat of an unusual circumstance.

Usually the fact that our library is adjoined to a tavern and has a parking lot that can fit about 10 cars -- toy ones -- doesn't phase me. But I did notice this particular day, since the parking lot was full and I had to go park at the far end of the tavern's gravel parking lot. It was nice that it wasn't raining.

When we got inside, I figured out why all the car were there. It was storytime. Which, now you know, I have not yet gotten into the habit of taking my children to. I'm still trying to convince myself that there is a good reason for that besides my laziness and forgetfulness.

Since the girls were with me, we played and did a craft before we got our books and left. We were walking back to the car when another couple walked out behind us. For some reason this disturbed Kar. So instead of walking in a more or less straight line to the car, she turned around to watch this couple behind her as she walked. She was also trying to keep an eye on me while telling me that these people were scary. (Glad not all people speak Three Year Old.) I was getting dizzy just watching her. I kept telling her just to walk to the car, that she was fine, I was with her, she didn't need to worry,...

Sure enough, as she was turning from the "scary people", she walked right into a parked car and hit her head. And now that she was crying, the "scary people" finally noticed her and I'm sure had no idea the role they played in the injury.

Turns out, walking into parked cars is exactly what this verse in Matthew is talking about.

Most translations of the verse use the term "don't be anxious" or "don't worry". And there are lots of people who do lots more worrying than me, so except on the rare day, this passage doesn't apply to my life, right?

That was until I read another version: "take no thought for your life" (KJV). Turns out I DO think about my life a lot. Not just about what I'm doing and what I might do in the future, but I get really caught up in my own life and obsess about landscape plants and personality types and what color to paint the bathroom and how much I have to offer the world -- that is, if I could only pry myself off Facebook.

The Geek (oops, is there supposed to be an 'r' in there?) word that is translated as "anxious" and "worry" and "care" is derived from the word for distraction or something that divides. So these are dividing cares we're talking about, things that distract our heart from the true object of life. This concept certainly includes worry, but encompasses all that competes for our hearts' attention.

This is not to say I should only read my Bible and pray. (I wish!) These dividing cares refer as much to our minds as our actions. For example, once upon a time I read a book about eating local. And suddenly found myself burdened with growing a very productive garden and trying to figure out how to eat primarily from local sources.

Now, I believe that these things can be pursued with God as our focus, with a goal of glorifying Him, but that was not the case with me. I was doing it out of a sense of obligation and guilt and "I should" and there was unrest. When I figured it out, what was wrong wasn't what I was doing, it was how much I cared about it...to the point that it crowded out what really is important, because, believe it or not, there are things in life that are more important than home-grown tomatoes and grass fed cows.

That's not what I want. As fun as it is to let myself be consumed by pure food sources and which brand of shower cleaner to use, that's not what I really care about, that's not what I'm really after. I want to eliminate distractions, let worries fade into the distance and get your eyes and heart on what you really want. And do it before I run into a parked car.

fast facts

2010-01-30T19:36:00.000-08:00

Fasting pretty much made no sense to me a couple years ago. It mostly seemed like a manipulative tool. The only times I had heard about people fasting was when they wanted something. Because somehow not eating showed God they REALLY wanted it? And if you pressed the magical button of not eating then God would give you what you REALLY wanted? Sounded more like a temper tantrum to me.

I was clearly not seeing things correctly. Not that there are no people who fast in that manner, but certainly that is not the spirit behind fasting.

At a friend's recommendation, I read God's Chosen Fast by Arthur Wallis. I can honestly say it is the best book I have ever read about fasting. True, it is the only book I have read about fasting, but still. It's a good book.

And this is my book report, with the hope that maybe the stuff I learned will stick a little better. Sorry if its dry, the book I promise is much better. But here is the 2 minute version:

At its simplest, the book says, fasting is a time of spiritual renewal.

The book goes on to describe three kinds of fasting shown in the Bible: a normal fast (abstaining from food, but not water), an absolute fast (abstaining from food AND water) and a partial fast (restricting one's diet for a period of time). Clearly we can fast from things other than food, but at its most literal, fasting refers to food.

There was only one regular fast prescribed in the Law -- the Day of Atonement -- where all of God's people were commanded to fast. Some people fasted regularly beyond this -- the religious leaders in Jesus' day fasted twice each week -- but most often we see fasting taking place as God places it upon an individual's heart to do privately OR on a leader's heart to do as a group, publically. There are people who fast regularly, and those that fast on occassion -- either way, it is between the individual and God and certainly not to be reduced to an empty ritual.

I know of one friend who fasts regularly. (Most likely I know more people who fast -- which is to say I know them, but don't know that they fast.) I suspected her of the practice and when I asked she told me what she does, emphasizing over and over that these were things God had led her to, not to be taken as a tutorial. I pass them on in the same spirit:

She typically fasts once a week, beginning after dinner and breaking her fast with the next day's dinner. She's chosen this 24-hour approach because it is least disruptive to her home life, she's chosen a day in her week that most often is free, allowing her to focus her day in prayer and reading and journaling. She will drink fluids -- lots of water and also fruit juice, milk, or broth a couple times a day.

So why fast?

At its most basic level, fasting is an act given to God. Fasting is not self-seeking -- to get or to feel or to experience -- fasting is "a worshipping or ministering to the Lord, a giving of ourselves to God", it is a time for Him to be glorified. The book also notes that "fasting, like prayer, must be God-initiated and God-ordained if it to be effective."

The book discusses several secondary reasons to fast, I will reduce chapters to sentences:

fasting is "a valuable aid to personal sanctity" -- it is a time to humble ourselves before God, mourn in repentance, or more positively, consecrate ourselves to God
fasting allows us "to be heard on high" (Isaiah 58) - fasting is an expression of wholeheartedness, and when we do that and come into His presence and ask for something, God responds -- Jeremiah 29.13-14 says "When you seek me with all your heart, I will be found by you..." Why fasting is effective in this way is a mystery...but that it is is undeniable.
fasting is used to change God's mind -- we see biblical examples of fasting being used in this way -- such as with Ninevah. They repented of their sin and God withheld judgement.
fasting is used to "free the captives" (Isaiah 58) from spiritual captivity or physical illness -- "fasting is a powerful auxiliary weapon, appointed by God, to break the enemy's hold", it is "prayer without words"
fasting can bring revelation -- fasting sharpens our spiritual sensitivity and is an avenue by which God can speak to us (which is not to say visions/revelations do not need to be tested)
fasting is used to "buffet the body" (buffet like "to contend against" not "a smorgasboard of food") -- "[among other things] it was a temptation to eat that encompassed the ruin of the race" -- it's true, God gave our bodies their appetities, but "we are required to keep the physical subservient to the spiritual". For some of us food is an idol...some of us are in bondage to food and seek it without control. It's something we make light of, but it can cripple us spiritually. "When there is a failture to deal with this lust for food, the life is opened to attack along other lines."
fasting is valuable for health and healing -- fasting is really good for your body (unless you've got health conditions that prevent it) -- most of us can benefit from the caloric restriction and your digestive system will benefit from a day off

The book goes on to give details concerning fasting from a physical perspective, describing what happens in the body during that time, how to begin and end a fast, and even includes a diary of one person's 21 day fast, just to give a peek into that experience.

And there are your fast facts -- information that pertains to fasting which can help inform and guide our experience. And I suppose in that way, fasting is like prayer -- there are facts of prayer and you can formulate and describe, but it cannot be reduced to such.

So there. Fasting has been talked about. I could go on, but I think I'll stop there because I'm still learning. I'm at the fetal stage of development on this issue, so I don't have much more to say except "working on it!"

slow to fast

2010-01-29T13:59:00.000-08:00

I recently noticed another thing about Christians in America that confuses me: Why don't we ever talk about fasting?

Of course, it was interaction with Christians NOT in America that made me realize this. The first week of the year, I was chatting with friends in Rwanda and learned that their pastor had called the church to a week of prayer and fasting. I gathered that the idea was to gain perspective and direction for the coming year, to devote the year to God's plan for each of them and seek what God might want to do in their lives.

I was shocked. Rwandans -- many of them, anyway -- are quite thin. I mean, in a country where there is some seriously inadequate nutritional intake, is fasting really necessary, or even advisable? And not eat a single thing for a week? And given how I feel after a few hours of not eating, does that mean everyone just sits on the ground, away from everyone else, for the entire time?

(And to answer, not everyone in the church was able to participate in the entire week of fasting, those that did generally ate a small meal each evening, people participated in normal daily activities, spent more time in prayer and, at least once, gathered together for prayer and worship before breaking their day of fasting with a small meal.)

Naturally, after the 'how' came the 'why'. For most of my life, I've always thought of fasting as "just something they did back then" and that people who do it now are either in the category of "super-spiritual" or "fruitcake". In recent years, that perception has been slowly changing, but in considering the role fasting might play in the life of a modern Christian in America, it's been hard to find answers as to why one would fast.

Why don't we ever talk about it?

Maybe its because fasting is very personal and, based on Matthew 6, should be private and kept secret.

But Matthew 6 also says that giving and prayer should be kept secret, and there are plenty of books and seminars and sermons on those topics.

Maybe its because Americans are less expressive and more private and don't want to share these kinds of things.

But then, how do you explain blogs and Facebook?

In truth, there are probably a hundred reasons why we don't talk about fasting, but my guess is that one of the primary ones is that Americans are slow to fast. Though I know there are Americans who do fast, it's simply not a very popular devotional activity.

Either way, my friends' example has challenged my faith; I'm asking questions about this practice that I've pretty well dismissed as weird my whole life. And I intend, here, to report some answers I've gotten...partly as a means of taking notes on the topic, and partly to prove myself wrong that nobody ever talks about fasting.

sunshine therapy

2010-01-18T16:15:00.001-08:00

Playing in the dirt keeps me grounded.

That's one of the phrases that will appear on t-shirts sold at Garden of Eatin', when I open it.

Seriously. January has had me in a funk. I just can't bring myself to want to do ANYTHING -- and when anything includes hanging out with friends and eating cookies and playing with fonts and reading books, you know its bad.

I realized yesterday that I needed some dirt and sunshine. They've proven that inadequate exposure to sunlight can cause depression ...I haven't heard any studies about mineral absorption through handling of dirt, but there's something there too, I'm certain.

This morning after de-segregation pancakes (white pancakes with black chocolate chips) for breakfast, I sat down to my tea and time with Jesus. There were mostly clouds outside. A little blue, but just enough to make me want to cry. So I asked for sunshine, acknowledging that it wasn't entirely imperative for my survival, but it would be heartily received if given. Then I checked the weather report: rain, rain, rain. All week. Sigh.

An hour later I looked outside: SUNSHINE! And a perfectly blue sky. I weeded. I cleaned up yard debris. I trimmed the everbearing raspberry canes. I sprayed lime sulphur on the peach and nectarine trees. I swept the garage. I measured and plotted three areas of the yard for future landscape projects. I talked to the neighbor. And her dog. I had the urge to get my swimsuit and dance, but...the party stopped there...

What a gift. Who knows if it'll pull me out of the Januaryness of it all, but my body and spirit are singing and that's enough for now...

news bulletin: the seeds have been ordered

2010-01-11T21:10:00.000-08:00

The seed catalogues having been sitting around, mocking my indecision and it came time to put a silence to the noise. As of 10 pm last night, the seeds have been ordered.

And since I know you're dying to know what I ordered....here's the list:

From FedCo Seeds:

Masai Bush Haricots Verts -- petite green beans on a bush...mostly because I am wondering if they come close to the variety I ate in Rwanda...
Silver Queen White Sweet Corn -- never grown corn, so this is the year to try
Dakota Black Popcorn -- couldn't resist the popcorn experiment either
Prescott Fond Blanc Cantaloupe -- these are supposed to be some seriously ugly melons, all warty and wonderful
Cream of Saskatchewan Watermelon -- a smaller white watermelon, brought to this continent from Ukrainian immigrants, which is partly how I got here too, so I thought I'd connect with my roots
Over the Rainbow Carrot Mix -- my carrot are always spindly and sad...but at least their colorful?!
Chioggia Beet -- never grown beets before, but if I don't like them, I can use this variety for target practice
Space Spinach -- great smooth-leaf spinach, I've grown this once before and loved it
Tyee Spinach -- a savoy (crinkle) leaf spinach that does well even in warmer weather, a necessity for spring spinach in these parts -- also grown this one before
Rouge d'Hiver Lettuce -- a lovely winter lettuce, another previously grown favorite
Michelle Lettuce -- can't remember why I picked this one...
Lettuce Mix -- boring, I know
Summer Lettuce Mix -- summerily boring, as well
Arugula -- for a spicy mesculun mix
Early Mizuna - didn't so much care for my mustards last year...largely because I'd go out the garden and cut the mustand and then wouldn't know what to do with us. Mizuna goes in salad though, so I can do that.
Broccoli Blend -- mix of broccoli varities
Gonzales Cabbage -- wee little cabbages for fall/winter consumption
Graffiti Cauliflower -- I don't really get the point of eating or growing cauliflower...unless its purple and then it all makes sense
Peacework Sweet Pepper -- a nice peaceable red sweet pepper
Purple Beauty Sweet Pepper -- a (presumably) beautiful purple sweet pepper
Pink Brandywine Tomato -- time to attempt the ultimate tomato!
Aunt Rubys German Green Tomato -- and its green counterpart

Hyssop -- purple, medicinal experiment
Ziar Breadseed Poppy -- I tried to get the poppies like they grow in Afghanistan and couldn't find seed...so I'll try eating these seeds until I can get those other ones...
State Fair Mix Zinnia -- meet zinnia, my happy garden flower
Ruby Silk Love Grass -- so yes, I just wanted to grow something called "love grass"
Foxtail Millet -- millet looks cool
Butterfly Weed -- these orange flowers look cool too -- semi-native, drought-tolerant
Iron Maiden Penstemon -- red flowers, also semi-native and drought-tolerant

And from Pinetree Seeds:

Connecticut Yankees Delphinium Mix -- white, blue, purple mixed delphiniums
Minnesota Midget Melon - I ADORED these mini-canteloupes (ok, so technically muskmelons) last year -- compact vines, quick-ripening fruit and lovely flavor
Candy Lily -- a sweet little flower I found in Rwanda
Farinacea Blue Bedder Salvia -- I like flowers, I think
Marine Heliotrope -- I guess I like purple flowers...I'm seeing a lot of them...
Red Poppies -- ...and red flowers
California Poppies -- ...and orange flowers...what it my deal?!
Pampas Plume Celosia -- I think there's some yellow and pink in this mix, though...
Vega Red Cosmos -- back to red flowers...
Illumination Amaranth -- and then orange, with a tough of yellow, but I think this amaranth is more leafy than floral-seedhead-y
Bronze Mignonette -- a friendly looking butterhead lettuce I wanted to attempt

And yes, you're right. The motto was -- as it always is with seeds -- "Buy now, consider the time requirements later!"

10 minute stir fry for one

2010-01-05T09:29:00.000-08:00

There's this terribly delicious stir-fry recipe I got a while back. The only problem is that the rest of my family mostly feels the "delicious" part of that description ought to be left out and that "terrible" would suit it just fine.

I tell you, this place is growing more and more similar to a Crazy House everyday.

Fortunately, I stumbled into this easy alternative yesterday and just have to share. It's super fast and easy, includes some protein and veggies, is seasonally sensitive...as well as lazy shopper sensitive because these things are in my fridge or cupboard most of the time.

So here we go. Set your timer for 10 minutes.

1. Put a small pan on a small burner and turn the heat to medium-high.

2. Pull out a carrot and head of cabbage from the fridge. Chop them up. Cut those carrots on a bias if you're wearing your fancy pants.

3. Assist/scold children in whatever activity they are engaged in.

4. Put down a little oil in your hot pan and toss in the veggies. I sprinkle a little salt over top to softed them up a little faster.

5. Once those veggies have just the smallest amount of crunch left in them, push them to the side of the pan and crack an egg into the empty space. Stir it up to scramble and cook. Once the egg is mostly cooked stir the veggies back into it.

6. Time to get saucy. Turn the heat off (keeping the pan on the burner) and add 1 Tb soy sauce, 1 Tb vinegar, 1 Tb peanut butter and 1/2 Tb white sugar. I also add a good dash of cayenne at this point. You're probably supposed to blend this before adding to the pan...but I find making a little space for it and mixing in the pan before stirring it through the egg & veggies works fine too.

7. Quickly assist child who has locked themselves in the bathroom.

8. Add rice. So you'll need 1/2-1 c. leftover rice in the fridge waiting for you if you want this to be fast. You'll have to think 20 minutes ahead of time if you don't. Stir your rice into the pan. The rice is cold, the burner is off (if the burner is still hot, remove pan from it), but if you're fast, you can mix in the rice, stick a plate over the pan and the remaining heat will take care of things nicely.

9. After squelching another child-related uprising, flip your pan and plate over, throw on some cilantro if you've got it, and you've got a 10-minute stir-fry for yourself:

I like this for breakfast -- got to my salt and vinegar somehow -- but lunch or dinner would work just as nicely.

booklist 2009

2010-01-01T09:41:00.000-08:00

For posterity, the booklist, full and favorited, of 2009:

Most Recommended Non-Fiction
African Friends and Money Matters by David Maranz

I've recommended this book to more people this year than any other. And since I'd only recommend it to people who are connected, directly or indirectly, with Africans, it becomes obvious that I don't recommend too many books. Honestly though, it has been the most insightful and practical book I've read this year and has made interacting with my Rwandan friends much less confusing.

Most Recommended Fiction
Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout

I love short stories. LOVE. But I don't like how reading a book of them makes my head feel like a pinball machine. But this novel is structured as a collection of short stories, each of them involving the central character, Olive Kitteridge. In some she is a lead character, in some she appears only as a brief memory. Even though it's an easy read about an older lady in a small East Coast town, it's not all tea roses and porcelain tea cups -- this book, like life, has a dark undercurrent. Bittersweet and brilliantly told, I wish I could read a hundred more books just like it.

Best Book to Read Now That I'm Not 17
Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad

I read it in AP English in high school. Read being a term that meant 'noted words on a page grouped into sentences'. It bored me to death and made no sense -- all I could remember was "the horror!" But 12 years and an English degree later, it was an enjoyable, easy, vivid read with clear (almost painfully so) metaphors. It was a lovely thing to find that growing up made Conrad palatable, even appreciated.

Best Book About the Heart of Darkness if You're Not Grown Up Enough to Find Conrad Palatable
The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver

So it's not exactly the same, but certainly in the same vein. I was amazed by the artistic merit of the book -- she employs some surprising and beautiful literary techniques -- but it seems Kingsolver always has a sermon to preach and, in the end, she couldn't restrain it for the sake of her readers. Great insights into Africa (and the human condition), but ending monologues compromised what otherwise would've been a perfect read. (Sorry Barbara, I DO love you!)

Best Argument Against Divorce
The Unexpected Legacy of Divorce by Judy Wallerstein

This thorough examination of the effect that divorce has on children is the most convincing thing I've ever heard or read as to why marriage is important. This secular book is not "anti-divorce" in its language, but it is in its content. Since nearly half the population is affected by divorce, I found it insightful to learn likely effects it can have in the way people think and behave when it comes to relationships.

Best Insight into Addiction
Beautiful Boy by David Sheff

No experience with this one either, but it was really eye-opening to learn what addiction is like from the perspective of a parent.

Best Use of Language
Atonement by Ian McEwan

The aforementioned fiction-writing ladies employed some brilliant literary structures, but McEwan's use of language certainly deserves mention. Reading this one felt like watching it. I have to admit I had higher hopes for the content and themes that were raised, but the words...the words made up for all that.

And the full list from this year:

The Unexpected Legacy of Divorce by Judy Wallerstein
Say You're One of Them by Uwem Akpan
This Beautiful Mess by Rick McKinley
Beautiful Boy by David Sheff
Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout
Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan
19th Wife: A Novel by David Ebershoff
Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad
The Mom Walk by Sally Clarkson
Life Together by Dietrich Bonhoeffer
The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver
Whatever It Takes by Paul Tough
Crazy Love: Overwhelmed by a Relentless God by Francis Chan
The Dream Manager by Matthew Kelly
My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult
African Friends and Money Matters by David Maranz
Land of a Thousand Hills: My Life in Rwanda by Rosamond Halsey Carr with Ann Howard Halsey
Pack It Up: The Essential Guide to Organized Travel by Anne McAlpin
Foreign to Familiar: A Guide to Understanding Hot- and Cold-Climate Cultures by Sarah Lanier
A Child's Garden: Enchanting Outdoor Spaces for Children and Parents by Molly Dannenmier
Three Cups of Tea: One Man's Mission to Promote Peace . . . One School at a Time by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin
Revolutionary Road by Richards Yates
People With Dirty Hands: The Passion for Gardening by Robin Chotznoff
Woman: An Intimate Geography by Natalie Angier
Dead Women Walking by Jennifer Su
The Backyard Orchardist by Stella Otto
Berry Grower's Companion by Barbara L. Bowling
The Pruning Book by Gustav Whittock
Successful Small Food Gardens by Louise Riotte
The $64 Tomato by William Alexander
The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
In The Hot Zone: One Man, One Year, Twenty Wars by Kevin Sites
Atonement by Ian McEwan

the surprises of 2009

2009-12-31T09:29:00.000-08:00

Ending a year is profound and poetic and also very ordinary. I mean, I've done it like 30 times now, which is about 28 times more than I've roasted a turkey.

I came to realize, in the last couple weeks, that the word that characterizes 2009 for me is "amazing surprises". Standing here at the end of 2009, I can't help but giggle to think of the me standing at the beginning of it -- even my wild imagination could not have even imagined the good things that God brought me this year. And then today I went back and looked at my "first day of the year post" and here's what I said:

This year, though [instead of setting goals/resolutions/new disciplines]...I'm so excited for the possibilities that are ahead of me, the surprises that God has planned. ...I am looking forward to the unknowns of 2009. Maybe it is believing that God's surprises and plans far exceed our own that has kept me from making too many lists this year.

Honestly, as I read that, I want to weep with gratitude. God told me at the beginning of the year that He had surprises, good surprises, ahead. I gotta say, He delievered. We have a good God. And I want to proclaim, in my loudest bloggitory voice, the good things He has done for me.

Surprise! Rwanda!

Obviously, this was my biggest surprise in the year. At the beginning of it, it wasn't going to happen, and by the middle, I was on a plane to this beautiful country. I'm still in awe of how God worked through that whole process. Of course, there were plenty of unexpectedly wonderful things that happened there, and unexpectedly wonderful that happened here as a results of going there, but we'll avoid specifics.

Surprise! Friends!

I made some surprising friends this year. I made some wonderful "imaginary ones" that I have only met in a virtual sense, like Mary and Diana. But just because I've not yet had the chance to look them in the eyes doesn't mean their hearts haven't touched mine. And I got some "old friends", old enough at least to be a parent of mine. Unfortunately, our culture doesn't allow for those types of relationships to be formed naturally. But fortunately, God allowed unnaturally good things to happen to allow for them. And then going to Rwanda brought friends -- new "old" friends from my church, new semi-long distance friends like Traci and Rachel, and then a couple very long-distance friends like Sanyu and Confidence. And the topic of new friends leads naturally to...

Surprise! MOSAIC!

I've never wanted to be part of women's ministry. I've never wanted to be part of a mom's group. So naturally, toward the end of 2008, I started a mom's group through the women's ministry at our church. I had no clue what I was doing and must admit was a little reluctant to even do it, given my aversion to the whole idea. We bumbled around for the first year, but when we got a couple group leaders together and got ourselves a real name, the whole thing has really clicked this fall. I still have no clue what I'm doing, but so far God's made arrangements around that. There's a lot of laughing and crying and good food and good advice...and did I mention, I just love the ladies who come? They are definitely some wonderful surprises that came into my life in 2009.

Suprise! You're a Mento!

My church is moving in a direction to place greater emphasis on discipling people who attend it. So in the middle of a sermon, God said something like "K. Want u 2 get prayer group going re discipleship by next Sun." Apparently He finds it appropriate to send messages in the middle of church. Which was interesting because I'm not really a pray-er. Sure, I'd like to be, but prayer is not a strength of mine. But the message was pretty clear and specific, so I made some phone calls and prayed about it and come the following Saturday morning I was pretty sure I had misheard. But then I got a phone call (a real one) and sure enough, that Sunday there was a small group of ladies gathered to pray before church. So getting involved in that area of ministry of the church was a big surprise, but that's not where the surprises end. I have really learned a lot by praying with this group of women. They're my mom's age (one of them is exactly my mom's age because she IS my mom) and my life has definitely been enriched by hanging out with these ladies. They don't know it, but I consider them mentors. Which makes me a mento.

Surprise! You like being a mom!

Not that I didn't before, but this year, thanks to factors external and internal, I'm experiencing considerably more rest in that role. Both literal -- having one kid in school all day five days a week and another three hours, three days a week has a lot to do with that -- and soul-wise. I just feel less uptight -- more comfortable and at peace -- about this season of life. And I'm enjoying it more than ever before. I kind of expected the literal rest, but not necessarily the soul rest. I'm grateful for the later more so than the former.

So those are the big surprises that I have been thinking about, the ones I sure didn't see coming, the ones I'm most grateful for in 2009.

God sure is good.

snow. garden.

2009-12-30T09:48:00.000-08:00

Perhaps last night's fresh snow has inspired it, but now that Christmas has passed, I've allowed myself to sit and browse the seed catalogues. Truth is, it began before then, but it was more stolen glances than luxurious lustful lounging.

But it's not the juicy tomatoes and sweet melons that have captured my passions, it's flowers. I don't know what happened, but I can't wait for cactus-style zinnias and unusual amaranths and candy lily and butterfly weed.

Fell in love w/ Candy Lily in Rwanda, but I didn't learn of its identity until I got home...

It's orange. And native. What's not to love about butterfly weed?

Ancient grain. Now often grown for floral form. The local native version is called Pig Weed and grows in freshly disturbed soil. But I hope to grow a more decorative...or perhaps historical...version of amaranth.

Maybe I'll grow a breadseed poppy to coax some utility out of the garden this year, but for the most part, I'm committed to play.

Which is not to say tomatoes can't be play. But I'm not sure 16 tomato plants can. Or 20 peppers. So we'll see come mid-late January what the order list looks like, but productivity is not the name of my game this year.

Maybe it's just the whiteness of outside that makes me long for color...

advent09 | having it out with Joy

2009-12-24T11:04:00.000-08:00

I have to admit, Joy week and I have had a personal conflict of sorts and are struggling to piece our relationship back together.

It could be because school vacations -- in our house at least -- are more synonymous with "chaos" or "irritability" than "joy".

It could be because I was reminded this week that all is not right in the world, that there are messed up people who leave confusion and pain in their wake and that sad things happen to even the most wonderful of people.

It could be because I've been more tired than usual, I think from the faster pace of my previous couple weeks.

Either way, I was sitting there on Tuesday night, grumpy and depressed, thinking "Wow. I am just SO glad it's Joy week."

I don't really know how you apply joy in those situations. I felt like what I needed most was Love and a spirit of grace for my family. Or maybe Hope that this too would pass. In precisely 12 days when my kids would be back in school.

And I don't know what you do about others' sorrow. Because it certainly doesn't seem appropriate to find Joy there. I mean, I don't think God feels any joy about it. I can see finding Joy in your own sorrows, but how does the concept of Joy -- just Joy -- apply concerning others' sorrows? Does it?

So that was the little tussle I had with Joy. Feeling like it wasn't always applicable. Feeling like it is a response to an already existing truth, but a little weak on its own. Feeling like there's not much of a grandly complex theological concept behind it. That all may be true of Joy. But that doesn't mean we can't get along, that it has nothing to offer.

Joy doesn't initiate, it responds. It's not a cause, it's an effect. An effect of having and receiving. Joy comes from what we have -- tangible things bring a temporary variety and intangible things the everlasting sort. All season long I've had joy: how can you consider Hope and not experience joy? Or dwell on the peace we have with God and not want to dance? Or be in God's presence made possible by his gift of love and remain unmoved? Or engage in love with God's family and not be full and happy?

And those things cannot be taken (John 16.22). Saddness arises from loss. I might lose hope in a dream, that may bring saddness, but simply reflecting on Hope -- the Promise we've been given -- restores joy. Whatever losses we face, they are counteracted by the Gift of Jesus that was given 2000 years ago and cannot be taken from us.

So today, for now, I have joy in the Gift. The Gift that was given to me, the Gift that was given to the world.

advent09 | love addendum

2009-12-21T21:15:00.000-08:00

More than anything this past week, God brought me the word "dwell", or living among, in relation to the concept of love.

I saw it in the way God loves me: God chose to show His love by being with us (Emmanuel/God With Us).

I saw it in the small miracles He brought me all week: the week was full and there were so many moving parts that all had to come together. And He was with me. A complication would arise. Immediate solutions did not come to mind. I ask for help. And not two minutes later, a perfect solution arrives. Over and over and over again. Seriously, more than I have ever experienced, God was present. He was sitting at the kitchen counter or in the seat next to me in the car talking to me and doing for me. His nearness, his dwelling with me by being present in the insignificant details of my life, was love.

I saw it in the saddness of Kristen leaving. That we got to dwell in the same town for these past years was a gift. There were good times and hard times and very ordinary mundane times. But family love -- the kind where you invest in each other and are committed to each other and get bored around each other and joke and irritate and help and are WITH each other -- there are rare and valuable riches found in that kind of love.

OK. Well, that's all I have. Just wanted to record it for posterity. And to remind myself to do a word study on "dwell"...

advent09 | joy

2009-12-21T21:07:00.000-08:00

Find your joy, the ad promised. The word stood out, seeing as it is Joy week. But somehow "As Seen on TV" gifts from Walgreens did not really take my understanding of the word to a deeper level.

Perhaps this week will hold something a little more than than. Hopefully, anyway. Or I'm going to spend the week crying on the couch.

Here's our passages for this week:

Isaiah 35
Psalm 30
Philippians 1
John 16
Matthew 2

And the preschool definition of Joy? "Hooray! Jesus loves us!"

advent09 | cutting the cheese

2009-12-19T14:37:00.000-08:00

Cutting the cheese will never be the same.

I realized this yesterday afternoon. My mom and sisters and I were at my parents' house getting ready to watch Julie & Julia together. We were waiting for my cousin Kristen to arrive; we couldn't very well start without her since she was the reason for this mid-afternoon movie-gathering. She is moving to Montana in two days.

The phone rang. I called out my prediction: "Kristen: I'm on my way." Kaylee answered the phone and started laughing, which meant I was right. Turns out it was mostly thanks to me she was late, however, we won't get into that here.

But back to the cheese.

Janae had pulled some out cheese to top the crackers and was getting ready to slice some. But then she glanced over her shoulder at me, "Or do you want to do it?" Which is when I realized that cutting the cheese will never be the same.

Kristen and her husband moved to Lewiston from the Portland area about seven years ago. Which means for the past seven years, all of us have gathered at my parents' house every (or almost every) Sunday after church for dinner. Things have changed a lot over that time; for one, it's gotten much louder, as five kids have taken turns joining the family. But so much has stayed the same.

My cutting the cheese, for instance. I don't know exactly how it all started, but it has a lot to do with the fact that Kristen is older than me. Which means she has the job of keeping me in line. Which means I have the job of getting out of it. Somehow being in her presence inspires me to all levels of impropriety; Jr. High boy humor jokes and self-centered theological claims are among the most common of offenses, but certainly my crimes have not ended there.

The thing is, I've never had an older sister, so I had a lot of pent-up pestering to do. Kristen was simply the perfect person to go to with those needs. She did already have a younger sister, but she's pretty nice, so really, I feel I contributed to her life experiences by being a younger sister that was annoying.

It was in the spirit of mild vulgarity and annoyance that this cheese thing began. In the little bit of assistance we offered my mom -- if it can even be called that -- I found myself one day slicing, or perhaps grating, some cheese. I called to Kristen: "Ask me what I'm doing!" "What are you doing, Michelle?" she replied sweetly. "I'M CUTTING THE CHEESE!" I hollered back, very unsweetly.

Thankfully, cheese is a regular part of our diet, so this routine played out -- in more or less the same way -- multiple times a month. My mom and sisters were in on it too, but it was Kristen's teasing look of disapproval that I was always after. (Of course, pretty quickly it was a tone of disapproval which came out as she complied with my request for her to ask what I was doing. It was as if she knew what was coming. Sigh.)

Which is why cutting the cheese won't be nearly as fun two days from now. Kristen and her husband (who, as a youth pastor, always supported my impropriety) and two beautiful girls are moving to the middle of nowhere, which is also known as central Montana. Where the towns don't have stoplights. Where it gets so cold that peeing outside in the winter becomes difficult. And where they won't be around to hear about it when I cut the cheese.

Usually all this talk about cutting the cheese would make me laugh. But it's not. Instead, I'm crying.

I'm really going to miss Kristen and her family. We've been through lots of tears together, lots of laughs. We've experienced significant life experiences together involving babies and jobs and death and the nearness of it.

I've learned so much from her; she is one of the most righteous people I know, forever desiring to be pure and in right relationship with God and others. In my prayers for her I sometimes find myself praying selfishly and I hear her kindly scolding me to instead ask God for His goodness in her life instead of what our human idea of goodness is. She is gracious, even when I have not been so to her. She is unendingly patient, which I can verify to because I have watched her wait for more things in life than anyone I've ever known. And she is right all the time, which I find a little annoying, but only because it typically means I'm wrong.

I will still slice and grate cheese after they move to Montana, and the jokes about it certainly won't end. They'll just be a little different for me because it will make me miss my dear cousin Kristen.

And of course, she will be so honored to know that I will think of her whenever I cut the cheese.

advent09 | burdens

2009-12-17T14:07:00.000-08:00

Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. Galatians 6.2

One day, late this past winter, I woke up overwhelmed with saddness. I'd been longing to go to Rwanda for what felt forever and most days I could handle that it wasn't going to happen anytime soon. But this was not one of those days.

I hadn't interacted with my Rwandan friends for some time, but that day when I had wandered on Facebook to reply to a couple messages, there was my friend Emma, greeting me -- Amakuru Michelle! We had previously talked about the possibility of my visiting Rwanda that coming summer, so after we had chatted a bit, I felt it was only fair to be honest and tell him it wasn't going to happen.

His response surprised me. Rather than attempt to comfort me -- "Oh, God will make it work out in His time" -- as all previous conversations on the matter had ever gone, he voiced his own saddness. He didn't try to make me feel better...he just told me how badly he felt. Then he insisted that, even though it did not appear that I would be able to go to Rwanda that summer, he would ask God to change things so it would be possible for me to come.

Immediately I felt the burden of saddness lightened. It was as if he had pulled some saddness off my back and placed it on his own. That he had shared in my saddness and prayers made all the difference for me that day, and it was turned into a day of joy in fellowship and hope in what God will do. And of course, God did do and he did it more quickly than either of us had imagined He would.

That experience taught me part of what it is to carry one another's burdens. And it taught me that I don't carry other people's burdens as well as I should. Previously, I thought I was being nice and loving if I just permitted someone to cry/whine/vent in my presence. And that I would get extra gold stars for saying "Aww...", making a sad face, and referring to a vague prayer effort. But listening and making sad faces doesn't always entail carrying and carrying is what we are told to do.

Isaiah 53 tells us about the Suffering Servant, who we know to be Jesus: "Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows..." Jesus carries our burdens, our sorrows, so doing the same for others is necessary for anyone who wants to love like Jesus loves.

Carrying anothers' burdens requires more than convenience. 2 Corinthians 8.9 describes it almost as a market transaction: "You know the generous grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. Though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that by his poverty he could make you rich."

It's like a trade: I have, you don't have, so I'll give you what I have and I will take your "don't-have-ness" for myself. That kind of love is sometimes extolled in our culture, but not usually. Typically people who bear others' burdens are called codependant or enablers or they have boundary issues. (A statement which should NOT be reversed to imply that the average person who is thusly labeled is in healthy situation that they should continue in.) It's just that Isaiah 53 portrays someone that people mock and pity, not someone who is invited to appear on Oprah.

If it all ends there, showing love by bearing each others' burdens sounds like a lot of work. I mean, it is exhausting enough to do as Emma did for me and genuinely take on anothers' saddness. But most of the time, bearing a burden takes time and energy and resources we really prefer to use in other ways.

There are a couple things I am burdened by this week, things I have chosen to help carry for others. There have been moments, many moments, when I have thought "What on earth was I thinking!? I can't do this." And suddenly I realized something.

Bearing anothers' burden doesn't end there. It comes full circle. It's like a proof from Geometry. Or philosophy. Or something. But it's been a while, so work with me here:

We have burdens.
Jesus loves us by bearing our burdens.
We are to love like Jesus.
We are to love others by bearing their burdens.
So then we have burdens.
Jesus loves us by bearing our burdens.

And He does. And it is simply amazing to be part of that kind of love.

advent09 | juxapose a poem and prose

2009-12-17T10:15:00.000-08:00

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies dráw fláme;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves—goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I do is me: for that I came.

Í say móre: the just man justices;
Kéeps gráce: thát keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God’s eye what in God’s eye he is—
Chríst—for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men’s faces.
-- Gerard Manley Hopkins, 1918

"No one has ever seen God. But if we love each other, God lives in us, and his love is brought to full expression in us." -- 1 John 4.12

advent09 | the magic wand

2009-12-14T21:48:00.000-08:00

A couple weeks ago, we were driving around in the car and I asked Jams a question: if you could only get one present for Christmas, but you could have anything you asked for, what would you want?

It was very quiet in the back of the car for a very long time. She was taking the question quite seriously. Then suddenly she burst out, "A magic wand! Then I could get anything I wanted!"

I laughed, thrilled at how smart she is. I was finishing up the giggles when I heard: "But I know they don't sell those in the store, so..."

Well, tonight she found out they actually DO...

But unforunately, at this point, it's power appears to be limited...

advent09 | be present

2009-12-14T21:07:00.000-08:00

I have to admit, I have not been looking forward to Love Week. Hope is lovely. Peace is lovely. Joy is lovely. Love, however, is not lovely. It's stinky and sweaty and puts you in a position where you have to decide between taking a shower or a nap.

I couldn't help but enter this week with a bit of cringe, as I acknowledged that this one was going to hurt. Loving is NOT my forte -- moments of serenity and ignoring reality for the sake of something better I can DO, but this loving thing is really hard.

But here we are. It's Love week and there's no going back.

This morning I was reading in Matthew 1, the words from Isaiah: " '...they shall call his name Emmanuel' (which means, God with us)."

God with us. The truth is, to love is to be with. To be present to. Of course, it isn't limited by physical "withness"...we all have friends at all kinds of distances that we are "with" to varying degrees. But when we love, we make someone else's world our world. Just like God did with us. We are present to their joys, their concerns, we understand -- or seek to understand -- what their world is like.

That hits me most in regards to my kids. It's so easy to not be "with" them. To be focused on my world instead of theirs, to see things from my perspective instead seeking to see things how they do. It's a lot of "do this" and "don't do this", rather than being with -- walking and guiding and listening.

But really loving others first requires that we enter their world, that we stop worrying about our world for a moment. We've all know what it's like when someone loves without first entering another person's world. That's where fruitcake came from. Somebody's world had a little too much flour, sugar and funky fruit and imposed it on another world, a world that had to thinly reply, "gosh, how thoughtful".

Entering another's world is awkward and time consuming and humbling. Which is why more of us don't make hobbies of it. But if we want to love like Jesus loved -- and if we want to more fully appreciate the sacrifice He made in coming to be "God with us" -- we have to be with; be present.

advent09 | but wait, there's more!

2009-12-13T21:27:00.000-08:00

I got all my peace lernin' done early in the week because we had an adventure scheduled for the later part: our present for peace week was a family trip to Portland! Brian had a CPA class to go to, so we figured we'd make a family mini-vacation out of it.

But, funnily enough, Peace followed me to Portland! Hooray! It's transportable!

For one, I was very happy with how all the weekend's plans came together. Came together in spite of the repeated threats of freezing rain and winter storms...in spite of my miscommunication skillz, which gave some unexpected change of weekend plans to two of my friends...in spite of my lack of an inclination to make any definite plans until shortly before doing anything. So perhaps the rest of the world (and my friends w/ it) are still reeling from the implosion that was our visit, but we? We had the most splendid weekend imaginable.

And then! We ended up at a church service on Saturday night. I just really had not wanted to miss church that weekend -- Advent somehow heightens the sense that God has something for me there -- and we had to leave early Sunday morning to be back home in time. But one of my friend's church had that evening service, so there we were.

The opening sermon slide was a disappointment. Maybe God didn't have anything anyhow. It said "Doxa." Who even knows what that means, anyhow. But then the pastor told us: it means "glory." Which is one of my secret Advent words this year.

(I have to confess, I have my official words: hope, peace, love, joy...and then my secret words, my "this year words", which are: generous, grace, and glory -- which I was hoping would magically appear in Advent, even though I'm not officially acknowledging them.)

So God was like, "Surprise!" and I had this gift of sermon about glory! The first part of the sermon was a challenge: We are made to glorify God. The rocks and stones and stars cry out the glory of God...and we, our lives, are to cry out the glory of God even more so. Our desire for happiness collides with the glory of God. God wants holy people, not happy people; holy people reflect God and His glory.

But then, the pastor shifted to Isaiah 40, which speaks of the glory of God. And he said, are you burdened with something? Go look at the stars. Not one is missing, ie, He is aware and present to the cataclysmic events in space. And none of us are missing, ie, God is aware and present to the "cataclysmic" events in our life. Looking at God's glory -- his hugeness and perfection and magnificence -- brings us peace.

Still chewing on some of those things, but it was fun to have a one last peace lesson during peace week that incorporated the idea of glory...especially since we'd already made the grace tie-in earlier this week...

what I want for Christmas: hope

2009-12-10T06:46:00.000-08:00

Awhile ago, I was thinking about what I wanted for Christmas. I closed my eyes to think, and this is all I saw:

What I wanted for Christmas was to be with these kids, give them love for just one day, show them they are valuable and loved by God -- and maybe upgrade their ugali and beans and rice meal with something sweet or maybe even that rare luxury, meat.

Looks like I might get what I want for Christmas. Kind of, anyway.

That's because the body of Christ has arms and faces and hearts all around the world; an embrace that we give here can be felt tangibly in Rwanda.

Just as I was praying about how I wanted to give love and food to these street kids in Rwanda, but lacked the arms and feet to do so, members of Hindurwa were wanting to do the same: they had the arms and feet, they just lacked the resources. And after many conversations and a lot of work on the part of my friend Brian in Rwanda and my friend Traci in Portland, we're going to be one huge body that spans the oceans.

Hindurwa is organizing a day of hope for these street kids in Kigali, a celebration filled with tasty food, good music by Hindurwa and a couple other bands and a new t-shirt to replace the rags that now hang from their backs. It's true, one day like this won't change the circumstances of these kids -- they will return to the street. But we want them to make that return with more than a full belly and new wardrobe. We want them to return with hope, to know that they are loved by God and loved by others.

And you can get in on this big hug. Just $10 will make it possible for one child to have a meal and shirt (cost of living is similar to the US), and over 500 kids are expected to attend. Funds have begun to be raised, but much more is still needed so that each kid who attends will leave full and clothed.

Please consider going to ANLM's website and making a donation for this event -- you can quickly make a difference for one of these kids, or maybe more. And if you're not able to give, please remember these kids in prayer -- it is only by the work of God's Spirit that these children will have a hope and a future.

Donate to Hope Starts With Love Here

advent09 | give peace, give grace

2009-12-07T21:19:00.000-08:00

Reading Romans 5-8 today. (Can I just say this? Selecting chapter-long passages about peace in the Bible was not an easy task. Honestly, if you have any suggestions...)

Anyway, the idea of peace in those chapters is that Jesus covers us with His righteousness so we can stand before God as complete, or perfect, which is what the Hebrew concept of peace encompasses. There's a word that comes along peace in all of this: grace. Grace is the train that Peace rides in on. Our righteousness (wholeness/perfection/peace) is only attainable by grace.

So of ourselves, peace says: On my own, I am not capable of doing everything right; I need grace; Jesus gives it to me.

And of others, peace says: On your own, you are not capable of doing everything right; you need grace; I will give it to you.

But think how peaceful things would be if we did that! How many of our fears and insecurities are founded on a sense of inadequacy? How much stress do we experience because we're trying to be perfect? How much of our conflict with others comes from a lack of grace, an inability to accept and forgive another person's error?

Want peace? Accept and give grace!

advent09 | peace adventures

2009-12-07T20:12:00.000-08:00

Part way through my morning, I made an observation: I was busy. I had a million things to do, most of which involved decisions and so that added an extra layer of unrest to it all. Then I remembered my Peace week a couple years ago and how similarly crazy and unrestful it had been.

I pointed the pattern out to God.

He replied, You the one who said you wanted to learn about peace. :) (It included the little smiley face, so obviously it was a text He had sent.)

U R Funny. Not LOLing.

How R U supposed 2 learn about peace if U have a quiet, boring week?

Good point. Not much new territory to cover there.

OK, then. Let's do this week!

Bring it!

He did have a good point and the conversation brought me excitement over what's going to happen this week. He's laying the perfect scene for me to practice peace. Not just a chance to feel peace...but real, live, actual peace. Rather than take it as a joke -- which in some sense, it was and we had a good laugh over it -- I took it as an invitation into something a little more interesting, more challenging, with something better than "well-restedness" at the end of it.

So maybe we can call this the Great Peace Adventure Week. Since I think it will contain more action than I previously anticipated.

advent09 | peace

2009-12-06T21:07:00.001-08:00

On to Peace! The definition according to preschool class? "Jesus makes everything all RIGHT!" -- our hearts are all messed up and we don't always do what we're supposed to, but Jesus makes our hearts all right with God. Understanding this is then followed by pushing and shoving and fighting in line. I tell you, the more I hang out with kids, the more they remind me of grown ups.

So the reading for this week:

Luke 2
Isaiah 32
Romans 5
John 14
Philippians 4

Optional: Romans 5-8

advent09 | wake up and run naked

2009-12-05T18:06:00.000-08:00

I learned a lot about what Hope is. I marveled in this gift we have been given. Bu if I were to summarize the way I want to be different after this Hope week, what my practical purpose statement after examining the concept of Hope might be, here it is:

Wake up and run naked.

Yeah, this week has been life changing. Got that early morning brisk jog thing going on and...

Oh. Right. I was speaking in metaphoric terms.

So the first concept: wake up. All week long I keep running into the word "awake", or "wake up". The idea of hope involves waiting for a promise. And naturally, when you're waiting for something for a long time, it becomes natural to fall asleep...to lose focus, to believe there's something better to do with your time.

But that idea from Matthew 25 keeps returning to me: those who have hope work hard to stay awake, to be alert, to live expectantly.

And once we're awake, it's time to run. Run naked. According to Hebrews 12.1, anyway. It says this:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up (other translations say "the sin that clings so closely"). And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us.

The obvious image are the athletes of ancient Greece who didn't want a backback of snack bars and fitness water to weigh him down, or his loincloth coming undone and tripping him up. Yes. They ran naked.

And frankly, the thought of men running naked is not so pleasant. In fact, I feel similarly about that mental picture as I do of the one of men shaving their whole body and wearing Speedos. But then, these guys are competing. They're not trying to be cool, they're trying to win a race. And unless you're Michael Phelps, you're going to have a tough time doing both. They're focused and the smallest thing that might have the slightest chance of slowing them down has to be eliminated.

With sin, it's easy to see why that has to go: sin really does trip us up and keep us from doing all we could do. I was thinking of some recent conversations where I had made a statement that was met with a reply that was the equivalent of "you're an idiot". To which I wanted to say, "No, YOU'RE the idiot and here's WHY". I have to confess that sin got the best of me a couple of those times. But other times I just took it. And I have to say, the relationship I have with the person in those cases has changed for the better. I'm inclined to think my natural response would have hindered that. A small thing? Sure. But, this is a race and sometimes the little things make a difference.

The idea of "every weight that slows us down" is so much tougher to define. Sin is sin, but weights, encumbrances, differ from person to person. And what is not an encumbrance at one point in time, may be at another. But recent reading through the gospels, through the Corinthians, and especially in Hebrews 11 show that Christ-followers are called to travelling light.

Living simply, focused, is such a desire of mine. But I fail. I manage to spend a little less time on my appearance and then I go out buy more stuff. I think this one is a constant battle and perhaps part of the trick is not searching out these weights, but just to remove them as they appear. I don't know. I'm still working on this one. But I do know that, as the saints mentioned in Hebrews 11, I want to be one who is "seeking a homeland".

Part of what's hard about focused living is wondering how to balance. I'm all for running hard, but what about stopping to glory in the dirt at my feet or the bird song off to the left. I mean, gardening can take a bit of time for me, and it's kinda an outdoor church to me where I am taught and I worship (and it leads to community when harvest time comes!) -- but at what point can it become a weight that is making the race harder to run?

Maybe the answer, part of it any way, is in the word "endurance". Sprints are different than marathons (so I'm told, anyway) and if life were a sprint, maybe gardening would be a distraction, but as it is a marathon, gardening might be an important part of making it to the end. We can sprint in life for short periods, but people who make a lifestyle of it tend to crash.

I guess ultimately these are questions to bring to the Light. As are the specifics of staying awake and running without hindrance. Anyway, enough for now. Part of being able to be awake and run naked is to get enough sleep. Right?

advent09 | hope is...

2009-12-02T14:18:00.000-08:00

Hope is...believing that something good is going to happen -- Luke 1

Hope is...a seed, something that is planted, for which we must await the promised result -- Isaiah 61

Hope is...knowing that this world is not all that there is -- Hebrews 10-12

Hope is...an invitation; it cries out "Come!" -- Revelations 22

Hope...leads to preparation -- Revelations 21.2, Luke 1.17

Hope...does not depend upon science or reason to be fulfilled -- Luke 1

Hope...waits together, sharing life with others who hope -- Luke 1.39-45, Hebrews 10.24-25

Hope is...active. It leads to love and goodness. It is strong -- Hebrews 11.24, 12.33-34

Hope is...confident that the best is yet to come -- Hebrews 10.35

Hope...endures. It waits through seemingly unchanging circumstances -- Hebrews 10.36

Hope is...believing that dreams become reality -- Hebrews 11.12

Hope is...confident in God's goodness. Even when His plan doesn't seem good -- Luke 1, Hebrews 11

Hope is...looking to what cannot be seen -- Hebrews 11.26

advent09 | longing fulfilled playlist

2009-12-01T21:01:00.000-08:00

Ahhh. Christmas music. I'm dividing it up into two categories this year: Christmas fun and Christmas celebration/worship. There's more categories to be had, for sure, but we begin small.

Not so great at the music mixes, but here's what I came up with for this year's Christmas worship mix: longing fulfilled. As you may note, the themes of the songs move -- generally speaking -- from Hope to Peace to Love to Joy. Oooooo, clever! (You did think that, right? Please?) It's a little random in terms of, uh, music styles...frankly, I was disappointed to not find a gangsta version of some of these traditional songs (as per my father's UNsuggestion)...but...hey, at least I don't get paid to do this, right?

longing fulfilled: advent09

And On That Day - Phil Keaggy
O Come O Come Emmanuel - Sufjan Stevens
Song of Hope (Heaven Come Down) - Robbie Seay Band
Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing - Sufjan Stevens
Silent Night - Lighthouse
It Came Upon a Midnight Clear - Kutless
Hallelujah (Light Has Come) - BarlowGirl
The First Noel - Weezer
Light of the World - Matt Redman
Love Is Here - Tenth Avenue North
Joy to the World - Bebo Norman
Angels We Have Heard on High - SonicFlood
Glory In the Highest - Chris Tomlin
Hark! The Herald Angels Sing - Jewel
God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen/We Three Kings - Barenaked Ladies/Sarah McLachlen

advent09 | filled

2009-11-30T21:18:00.000-08:00

I chose to fast this first weekday of Advent. And before you jump to any sort of assumptions on that, I should clarify that I'm pretty new to the fasting thing and you could hardly call it fasting, since I basically just mimic the regular eating habits of about half the world.

Eight years ago, fasting made no sense to me. Any place I went looking for answers just got me more confused. Five years ago, fasting began to appeal to me, though, being pregnant or nursing for a while I could still admire it at arms length. I've only done my FastingLITE a few times in the past year. I still don't understand it, I won't even begin to try to explain it here, but I know it is something I want to keep doing.

But this isn't a post about fasting, though that'd be an excellent topic for future discussion.

This is a post about hope.

I woke up this morning and read in Luke 1. Hope just oozes out of this passage -- Elizabeth hoping, Mary believing, people waiting in expectation. But there was a certain word, a certain phrase that jumped off the softly lit pages:

"he has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he has sent empty away" -- Luke 1.53

Because even then at 6:30 am, I was hungry. Really hungry. And so this was my promise for the day and I can tell you that each hunger pang drove these words deeper into my heart.

Of course, I realize the passage is speaking of more than just physical hunger. But somehow, being in a state of physical hunger made me want to be hungry in more ways. Because most of the time, I'm rich. I have what I need. I am self-sufficient. I'm not in that place of desperation before God. I'm satisfied; I don't crave anything because I feed myself, with food, with stuff, with activity, with lists and laughter.

But rich is new empty and hungry is the new full.

And beyond just making it through the day, the words seemed to carry a promise for my season. God said, if you are hungry, I will fill you...and I will fill you with good things. Things with vitamins and protein and fiber. Things with flavor and lasting value.

Already the day has been full of good things. My notebook got filled with more chicken scratch today than it has in a long while and the Advent reading today by Henri Nouwen received a severe pencil attack as well.

So, I have a deeply-planted Hope for this season, a promise that I am certain will be fulfilled in some way, maybe simple, maybe unimaginable to me at this time. And how do I know? Because today I have been filled.

advent09 | hope

2009-11-30T13:58:00.000-08:00

The tree is up. The gifts have been bought (mostly). The letter's been written. And finally, it is time for me to just be. Can it even been told how much I love this season?

We begin Advent with Hope. I told my little preschool class yesterday that hope means "something good is going to happen!" Then we proceeded to beatbox and eat animal crackers...two good things, no?

But the good we get to celebrate as the Rescued Ones is even better that beatbox and crackers. We celebrate the promised Good that came, the promised Good that is, the promised Good that will be. Hope, to me, is so much greater than just looking forward to something; it encompasses the entirety of the Great Story, beginning in ages past with Creation and ending with that glorious future with Christ's return, when our hope will be fulfilled in completion.

Here's some passages for the week, in case you want to join me:

Luke 1
Isaiah 61
Revelations 21.1-8, 21.22-27, 22
Psalm 33
Philippians 3
Hebrews 10-12

i want more for Christmas - give more love

2009-11-21T19:08:00.000-08:00

Active and sacrificial love is what this season is all about; we celebrate God’s loving gift to us by loving others. Sometimes we love with gifts, sometimes we love with actions, either way, Christmas is a great time to make God’s love real to others.

Gift-giving and Christmas go hand in hand. Some people love the gift-giving madness, and others? Not so much. And as is typical of humans, we are prone extremes on either end of the spectrum. For some it may be of benefit to remember that where our money goes reflects what we worship, and rexamining how we spend it may be of value. Some of us need to be reminded that focusing on "not stuff" is as materialistic and worldly as focusing on "stuff", and that legalism -- rules about the "right" way to give gifts -- never helped anybody.

EMPHASIZED ACTION

showing love to friends, family and community through gifts and acts of service

GETTING STARTED

Think about how you can give more love. How can you serve and love on the people in your family and community? Next, look at your motivation behind what you give and who you give it to. It is easy to get caught up in the do’s or don’t’s of giving gifts. Instead, lift up the issue to God and ask Him how you can better reflect him through your giving.

ALTERNATIVE GIFT IDEAS:

homemade gifts, "skills/service" gifts, food, custom-made gifts, fair trade gifts, year-long gifts, memory-making (fun event/activity) gifts, "instead of buying you something I gave the money away" gifts

i want more for Christmas - more memories

2009-11-20T19:04:00.000-08:00

Parties are good things; so good that God even told His people to have them. Not only are they a fun way to make memories and establish a family identity and sense of belonging, but they can be excellent opportunities to teach and instill values.

EMPHASIZED ACTION

create and practice family traditions that make memories and establish basic faith concepts through repetition and symbol

GETTING STARTED

Religious rituals and traditions are a really great thing. But they only have value if they mean something to us. Research and add some that you and/or your family might enjoy. And as you build these memories(spiritual and otherwise), remember that how it is done — the heart and attitude behind it – is more significant than what is done.

Advent: American Bible Society

Wikipedia Advent entry

Wikipedia Advent Wreath entry

CRI: The Season of Advent

Advent Conspiracy

CRI: The Jesse Tree

Jesse Trees (ornaments & devotional)

i want more for Christmas - more Jesus

2009-11-19T18:55:00.000-08:00

In a busy world, it’s easy to put off settling down and just taking time to enjoy God. But Christmas is a celebration of Immanuel -- God With Us! What better way to celebrate than to be with Him.

EMPHASIZED ACTION

contemplating and rejoicing in Jesus’ coming, past, present and future

GETTING STARTED

Make plans for reflection and worship. What might you do differently to make your time with God "extra special"? How can you practice "God With Us" during your day? What are some ways you can help your family enter into worship and reflection? Establish some general thoughts for this time, being sensitive to God’s leading as the season progresses.

IDEAS

Here's our MOSAIC Advent Bible reading schedule -- you can read with us, if you want!

HOPE
Week of November 29

Luke 1
Isaiah 61
Revelations 21.1-8, 21.22-27, 22 22.20
Psalm 33
Philippians 3

optional: 1 Thessalonians, Hebrews 10-12

PEACE
Week of December 6

Luke 2
Isaiah 32
Romans 5
John 14
Philppians 4

optional: Romans 5-8

LOVE
Week of December 13

Matthew 1.18-25, John 3.16-21
Isaiah 9.2-7, 2 Corinthians 8.1-15, 9.6-15
John 13, 15
Psalm 136
Philippians 2

optional: Ephesians, 1 John, Galatians 5-6

JOY
Week of December 20

Isaiah 35
Psalm 30
Philippians 1
John 16
Matthew 2

i want more for Christmas - more meaning

2009-11-18T18:51:00.000-08:00

aIf you don’t know what you want, you’re not going to get it. Spending some time in prayer, thought, and planning before the season begins can bring simplicity, order, and yes, even a little fun, to your Christmas.

EMPHASIZED ACTION

establish a focus for activity that will help you cultivate meaning and enjoyment

GETTING STARTED

Talk to God about what He would have for you and your family this season. Consider these questions as you decide what your season is going to be about, what it’s going to look like:

Picture "the perfect Christmas season": what are you doing, what does it feel like, who are you with?
List all your typical holiday-related activities. Do these contribute to or detract from what you want for the season? Identify what activities you truly enjoyed. Do you want to be able to devote more time to any of these things? Of those activities you don’t enjoy, are there any you can eliminate, scale back or get help with so they don’t compromise what you want for the season? If you can’t cut back on a particular activity, ask God to give you wisdom in knowing how to get it done in a way and with an attitude that brings Him glory.
Are there things you would like to start doing during the season that would add more meaning (and not just more good ideas) to your season?
What are some possible distractions that might come and how will you deal with them?

IDEAS

don’t do anything you don’t want to do -- ie, house projects, gift buying, writing Christmas letters, deep cleaning, shopping, making cookies you’ll just regret eating later -- instead, get it done early!

i want more for Christmas - intro

2009-11-17T18:24:00.000-08:00

a(So. If you're a regular reader, this is old stuff, especially if you've been to advent2008.wordpress.com. I'm doing an "Advent Workshop" with my MOSAIC ladies tomorrow, and thought I'd post my summary of that here...cause...uh...I can. Laziness has a name and it is Michelle.)

In an effort to simplify the holidays, it becomes easy to focus on doing less, buying less, eating less. But it turns out, I don’t want less for Christmas...I want MORE. I want more joy, more meaning, more love...more Jesus!

Some activities and schedules and ways of doing things can keep us from getting more for Christmas. But these vary from person to person, family to family, so reading "How to Have a Perfect Christmas" won’t solve anything. And new rituals are not the point. Besides, we can change our outward actions without changing our heart...and that’s where the real problem is.

So where do we start? There is only one way to get more for Christmas: ask for it. Jesus won't appear in your season just by following Four Magical Steps. Rely on God’s Spirit to direct you in these following areas as you make plans for yourself and your family this season.

------ my little story -------
(abridged)

I've always liked Christmas -- the fun and festivities and REAL TREES in the HOUSE! even Jesus wrapped up in it all. Something didn't seem quite right, though. I tried not caring about how much I spent. Besides having a surprised husband staring at a credit card bill in January, I can't say it felt any different than before. So I tried El Cheapo Christmas. And that felt worse. Then I tried to not care so much either way. But at the end of it all, I always felt empty. I felt unsatisfied. I felt like something was missing.

So something had to change.

I had learned that you can't replace something with nothing. You have to replace it with something better. Toning down Christmas didn't solve the problem. Giving to the needy doesn't make you love yourself and your money less. Keeping December's schedule clear doesn't necessarily bring peace. Spending less doesn't automatically result in greater spiritual health. Throwing out the Christmas tree and the stuff under it doesn't make you love Jesus more.

Sure enough, turned out the problem was me. My heart. So after an invitation into the situation, God began to teach me things and show me His heart for me. My approach to the season has changed -- Advent turned out to be a good way for me to focus and structure Christmas in a way that I get what I want, no matter what I open on Christmas morning. But I'm increasingly convinced that it's not my outward approach to Christmas that changed things, but God's fixing my insides, my heart.

So I do Advent and you can do whatever you want...but let's all of us ask for more for Christmas.

Stories from Kageyo: murabeho imvubu!

2009-11-07T09:45:00.000-08:00

It's the middle of the night, and suddenly you're awakened by the dirt from your mud walls crumbling down to where you sleep; the walls are shaking. It takes a split second before you realize what is happening, but with sudden familiarity it becomes all too obvious: once again, the hippos -- imvubu -- are playing in your backyard.

At first, there is fear. You freeze in your bed, willing the rest of your family to also remain utterly still. Forget the lions and hyenas that could be close by in the Akegera Game Park -- here in Kageyo the biggest threat to human life are these hippos. They're big. They're fast. They're strong. And they're grumpy.

Minutes of grunts and smacks pass, and finally you hear the imvubu lumber out of your yard, probably in search of more sweet potatoes. You sigh in both relief and frustration.

The first time this happened, two years ago when your family moved here, you wanted to run out and scream at the hippo as he was leaving. Did he not understand the labor that went into the maturation of your sweet potatoes? The effort and planning needed to acquire the rooted cuttings -- always here is about positioning yourself to get the most; it felt terrible the first time you had to push another deserving woman from the line, or bribe with what little you had to provide your family with what they needed, but here....here the rules are just different.

And then, after those cuttings were in the ground, the days of walking nearly a mile to the water hole to bring back a little water so they would have a chance at survival in this parched land. Nearly a hundred days, this took. And in one night, all of your effort were shattered into a useless dust. You want to scream at that useless, ungrateful imvubu and beat his rough hide until he kindly repaid you for what he had taken.

But that was how you felt the first time it happened. The next time, at little less so. And after countless futile efforts to change the situation, the anger has deepened into resignation. True, acceptance of the situation won't get you anywhere...but neither did action. You have to take what you are given, even if it is little.

--------------------------------------

The hippos in Kageyo seem a classic African sensation to the visiting white muzungu. Those who spend their days there, however, have a different sentiment. From threatening the stability of their homes, to ravaging their gardens, to endangering their visits to the water hole for the day's water, these hippos are anything but exciting.

Because civilians cannot own guns, these people were dependant upon help from the outside to solve their hippo problem. Finally, after years of enduring these nuisances, the people of Kageyo recently said a joyful goodbye -- murabeho! -- to the hippos. And afterwards, a grand celebratory BBQ took place...the day's featured dish: roasted hippo!

A least those imvuba are good for something!

Jesus: Uncool is the new cool

2009-11-03T13:35:00.000-08:00

Bible Times List of Losers (partial)

children
blind people
people with deformities, physical handicaps
people with demons
women
people who are unclean, ie leperous, bleeding, etc.
government workers
Gentiles, esp. Romans

All the people on this list are second class citizens. And these are the people who are recorded as being the most impacted by Jesus' ministry.

This isn't new information, I know, but somehow it keeps hitting me how Jesus loves on and sees potential in losers. It's the young rich man that he totally blows off. And he sure doesn't kiss up to any of the Big Religious Kahunas.

Now, the disciples were probably, mostly, not in the super loser category. But most of the miracles Jesus does involve the losers. I mean, surely normal people came to him too with various needs...but the superstars of the gospels are the losers: the disciples get scolded, not the kids, women are held up as examples for worship and giving, Gentiles get healed while those in his own hometown don't.

And I think my favorite example of Jesus' counter-culture, counter-status example of ministry is when, after his resurrection, he first appears to a woman. A women's testimony, at that time, was considered worthless in a courtroom; women were just a bunch of ninnies. So what Jesus does? Well that just makes me giggle. Can you even imagine what the disciples thought of that, that Jesus would ask a woman to pass on to them that he was alive and everything was totally OK? Yeah. Bet they just LOVED that.

Here's another list:

American List of Losers (partial)

old people
junior highers/tweens
addicts and alcoholics
people who don't dress cool
people who don't have Facebook accounts
kids with behavioral/developmental problems
Republicans (not a political statement, just sayin', right or wrong, they're not cool right now)
kids who are negatively impacted by divorce
annoying people
school janitors
people who are boring or unfunny
people who are ordinary and aren't trying to change that

I don't really like that Jesus sets up the uncool as the people who really get it. Because all this time, I've been trying to be cool. Maybe that's not what I'm supposed to be going for. It's the people that we think don't have hope and aren't worth spending time on that Jesus most seems to value.

It makes me uncomfortable to think that maybe I'm not valuing the people that Jesus would value if he were right here. It makes me uncomfortable to realize that Jesus doesn't set up the disciples or the religious leaders as examples...he picks people I probably wouldn't pick. That bothers me, a) because it means that probably if he were here he wouldn't say something like "Now Michelle here REALLY gets this Kingdom stuff, you should all try to be like her" (and generally I prefer to think he would do this) and b) it means I have to change how I see people and that seems like a lot of work and it seems like I might not always have fun.

But you know, that's why I drive a minivan. I'm working on "uncool". Well, maybe God's uncool-in-this-world-cool-in-the-next means something a little bit deeper than that. Something to keep thinking about at least...

Jesus: Poster Child for People with Boundary Issues

2009-11-02T14:10:00.000-08:00

Recently I found myself in a situation where I felt I was being taken advantage of. More specifically, that I was asked to give more than I had offered and that little value was given to my sacrifice.

I got mad. (Privately, more or less.) And then I got wondering if my anger was a righteous anger -- if there were legitimate wrongs taking place -- or if it was a human anger. Was my impulse to make sure it never happened again based in American psychology or the Bible?

Then, that week I read about Jesus doing ministry. Which, with that question sitting in the back of my mind, proved really challenging.

Jesus had boundary issues. I mean, he really accommodated a lot of thankless people who were oblivious to the sacrifice he was making. (I will go ahead and count myself among them.)

In Matthew 14, he's just heard heard John the Baptist was murdered, so he goes off to be by himself. And when he gets there, a million people are waiting to greet him. Oh wait. Not greet him, ASK HIM FOR STUFF. His response? Compassion. And he heals and teaches and disciples and then goes on to feed all 5,000+ of them.

And that's just one example. He's always having to help everybody out. Everybody is always asking him for things. Sometimes when he gives them what they want, they appreciate it. But not always. He's got to put up with the disrespect of all the religious leaders. He invests all his years of ministry in a guy who betrays him.

Now, that is not to say that Jesus didn't know how to say 'no'. In Mark 1, we see how the crowds all want Jesus' attention and he knows it's time for him to move on to the next town. So there is a distinction between saying 'no' to people who are interfering with your (God's) purpose and saying 'no' to people who are interfering with your personal comfort/desires (ie, privacy, sleep, etc).

I am not declaring that boundaries of any sort are unChristlike; there are definitely times when we take on unhealthy roles in our giving to others. I'm just saying, I found my own American standards of what constituted reasonable boundaries challenged by the example provided us by Jesus. No, I am not capable of giving as much as Jesus gave. But I would hope that I can give in Jesus-like way.

In my own situation, I had given to the limit of my human ability. But I want to be someone who gives beyond human ability and gets into giving with divine ability. I'm naturally stingy with my time and grace; I'd like to be unnaturally generous with it instead.

here comes advent...

2009-10-30T09:46:00.000-07:00

A couple weeks ago, I was sitting on the couch feeling a little irritated that once again Christmas was sneaking up on me. Nine months just isn't enough time to recover. And even Advent - my "solution" to Christmas -- felt like a huge chore. I tell you, I am the grinchyest of all grinches.

Recognizing the problem lay not in the upcoming season, but the depth of selfishness in my heart, I meandered somewhat aimlessly to last year's Advent blog -- Advent 2008 -- and reviewed the story and structure and "whys" of it all.

I emerged a converted soul. My heart and mind have such capacity for forgetfulness. I think I probably have spiritual amnesia. Or senility, at least, since I have to learn the same things over and over all the time. Sigh.

So now I'm actually excited for Advent and this upcoming season. I try not to do any real planning until November (so like, in two days I'll let myself think about it) -- but I am looking forward to worship and reflection, making memories, showing love...and exercising the grace that I've been so directly shown and challenged about lately.

But if you must know, someday I kinda want to do a no-gift Christmas -- PURELY on an experiemental level -- just to see what effect no-gifts would have on the season. Only problem is that the experiment would necessarily involve other people and I don't think they would find that experiment as interesting as I would. I tend to think no-gifts wouldn't be as nice, but I'd like to have that experience as a contrast point, you know?

And I'm rebelling against a Christmas list. In fact, I voted for an Underwear Christmas, where we just give each other underwear. But I was voted down by everyone except my youngest. And that only because she still really loves the word. Sure there are probably things I want more than underwear, but spending the time to identify those things isn't fun, and at least underwear is funny (and at least now you know my sense of humor has not progress beyond age three). I simply don't see why I need to be inconvenienced by someone else's lack of a desire to get me underwear for Christmas.

And since I've said that, I'm looking forward to the varied "you asked for it..." underwear gifts I'll get. Maybe we should have a contest where we all guess how many pairs of weird underwear I'll get and the closest guess gets the booty prize. Or booty-covering prize, as perhaps we should say.

I can already tell this is going to be a GREAT Advent season...

The Kingdom of Blind Nobodies

2009-10-26T14:48:00.000-07:00

Q: Why did the blind guys cross the road?

It should have been obvious, being that Jesus was on the other side, but Jesus was the only one that got it. Everybody else was too busy playing Important Jesus Helper.

Here's the story:

At the end of Matthew, Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem. The disciples must know that something big is about to happen with this kingdom. Obviously Jesus does. And there are a few lot of other people with Jesus, mostly, presumably, followers of his.

Everyone is moving at this point. And that was a good thing. At least as far as the disciples were concerned. I imagine them to be full of excitement. The Kingdom is coming! Not just "someday", but we are on the way to Jerusalem and crazy things are going down and we're going to get this whole Kingdom set up and I'm going to be part of it -- and they're visualizing the grand acts of spirituality and valor they will perform. It's just going to be amazing. Let's go DO this thing!

Their mental pep talks are interrupted by two noisy blind guys. Who clearly don't get it. They are not on the in...they have no CLUE what a huge thing is just about to happen in Jerusalem. And here they are trying to ask for help. Them! These blind nobodies! The nerve!

So the crowd, the disciples, try to quiet them down, so that Jesus won't be distracted from his mission, from what's really important.

Of course, it doesn't work. Jesus stops. He takes time to listen to them and to heal them. And then Jesus proceeds to Jerusalem, now with two more in his entourage.

I'm inclined to play Important Jesus Helper, just like the disciples. I like to be important. I like to be focused. I like ideas more than I like people. I like controlling who gets access to Jesus, who really is worth his time, as if I know more about this Kingdom thing than anyone else. This all need to change.

This is something I need to learn: The Kingdom is not about "getting all set up in Jerusalem"... The Kingdom is about engaging with the blind nobodies along the way.

Jesus Christ: Rule Breaker

2009-10-26T13:46:00.000-07:00

Matthew starts off with Jesus beginning his ministry with a long sermon on a little hill to a bunch of people. And then he comes down that hill, and starts breaking rules.

He touches a leper. Which isn't just gross, it means, according to the rules he kinda wrote, that he's unclean. And he'll have to go through this ordeal to become clean.

He heads to the house of a Gentile who has a sick servant. Now, there's no written rules about this, but those unwritten social ones are just as strong, and in his day Good Jews don't go hang out with Gentiles, especially not in their homes.

He goes and touches Peter's MIL on the hand to heal her. Good Religious Jewish Men don't touch women. Ever. Just in case, you know, they're in their "time of uncleanliness".

He doesn't make his disciples fast.

He forgives sins.

He calls public attention to the fact that an unclean woman had touched his cloak so she could be healed. Whoops. There he goes again, getting unclean.

He breaks Sabbath customs. Talks back to the preachers. Offends his family and tells people they may have to do the same.

And he totally doesn't play the fairness game.

Isn't it inspiring?!? It makes me want to go...I don't know...pumpkin smashing or something. Maybe light off fireworks within the city limits.

Really, though, I sympathize a lot more with the Pharisees than I used to. Jesus came off as not caring so much about some of these rules God had given them.

I wish I could step back and see me and my culture from another perspective. It's easy to point out the mistakes of the leadership in Jesus' day -- well, I guess we don't have too hard a time of it in our day either, right? -- but I know Jesus would break a lot of our rules today. I just don't know exactly which ones. And I don't want to get all rule-breaking happy until I know.

Anyway, so it's something I'm thinking about. Praying about a little. Your thoughts and observations would be most welcome.

And if anyone wants to go skinny-dipping at midnight down at the river until we get this whole thing a little more figured out...

Jesus: a King and his Kingdom

2009-10-26T13:10:00.000-07:00

I accidentally ended up studying the gospels this year. I didn't mean to, it just happened, as those things sometimes do, and during this last round through them before Advent I've been simply astonished. Because, how can you watch and listen to Jesus and not be? (No really. Count the time that word is used in the gospels. What you find will astonish you.)

I've been expressing that astonishment in real-live relationships -- I ended up in a virtual Read Thru with a Las Vegas friend and a Canadian (sounds like we're up to something illegal, doesn't it?), but I wanted to journal some things here anyway. And to define terms, a Read Thru is when a few people read through the Bible and share what they read in any number of ways. Ours, being virtual, takes place on Mondays via Facebook messages and we each share three highlights of the week.

So frankly, everytime I read in the gospels, I think Jesus is crazy. I do not know how he gets portrayed as this nice, ordinary guy, but whoever is doing that hasn't read about him. Every time I read Jesus' words I am simultaneously baffled and challenged. When he teaches and his disciples give him blank stares, I am right along with them -- "what on earth do you mean, Jesus?!?" The extremity and ambiguity of his words both annoy and thrill me, truth puzzles that will solved in parts but never -- in this lifetime -- in full. And I just cannot get enough of it.

So there's this King that I love but don't understand most the time, and then there's his Kingdom. Which I miss. And I also miss. So I miss it, in that I'm homesick for this place and when I'm driving back from visiting my grandpa in the nursing home, I scream and yell that we were not built for this sort of thing, this dying thing, and why can't I go home where everything is how its supposed to be. And I miss it, in that I'm so focused on being right and doing and whatever that I walk right by the Kingdom thinking its up ahead somewhere. Truly, the more I learn about this Kingdom, the further it seems I am from getting what it's really about.

And I just love it here, this place of passionate confusion. And I want to remember some of the things I'm learning about Jesus and his Kingdom, so I'm putting it down here, so I can find it later.

renouncing introversion

2009-10-03T14:13:00.000-07:00

I have decided to renounce my introversion.

It's been a part of me for as long as I can remember; it was in junior high that I assigned it a name, labeled myself as such, thereby giving it an elevated status that recognition of these things often brings. It has both embarrassed me, and been a source of personal pride...it's been an annoyance and comfort.

Over the years, I began accumulating a lot of junk under this label too. Especially when I started to combine it with the "T" in my Myers-Briggs identity, because then it meant I really wasn't a People Person. Which meant that talking to people was scary and when I did, the words always made me seem foolish or insensitive. Not that I'm NOT either of those things, but I'd rather not everyone knew.

Eventually I told myself that I wasn't relationally gifted. And that I really should focus my energies on things that didn't involve interacting with people because that really wasn't my strong suite. I had just enough friends to keep me sane. And I had a blog to make up for all the conversations I wanted to have, but couldn't find anyone to have them with.

It made sense at the time, awful as it sounds now that I've written it out so frankly. But now I just don't want it that way anymore. So I'm renouncing my introversion.

Not that I'm not an introvert -- I don't think I'll ever give up quiet(ish) afternoons with a book or my utter phobia of picking up the phone and calling someone -- but I'd like to be done with letting that limit me.

We've got a group going at the church. MOSAIC is what it's called: Mothers Of Small And Infant Children -- or Snotty and Irritable -- basically, you supply the adjectives and kids, we supply the childcare and coffeecake. And it's going really well. There's copious amounts of tears (mostly from laughter) when we meet....there's a whole party going on Facebook when we're not meeting...we got a ShareCycle (a sort of 'freecycle' for anyone in the church who wants to join) going...people in the group hang out with each other during the week. It's lovely.

And then we started up a small group. Half of them are from MOSAIC so we get to see each other twice! in one day. What's funny to me, is that five of the six couples who come are only there because I invited them. Me, the Not People Person.

And I don't write here on the blog anymore because all the things I want to say I end up saying in real-live conversations, and I find the repetition of posting it here uninspiring. That's right! I'm actually talking to actual people!

I realize this is self-centered navel-gazing (that's what else blogs are for, right?). I'm kind of giving an excuse for the lack of recent writing. I do miss it, really, I just need to find something more creative to write about than myself. Now that my blog isn't the object of all the uninteresting things I think, maybe I'll be able to come up with something else, right?

Anyway, I guess this also serves as a declaration, a celebration, that our temperaments aren't walls, that God is capable when we are not. This is me saying that I learned in news ways that, for God's people anyway, weaknesses are not meant to be excuses or embarrassments, but opportunities for His power to be made perfect.

school, wedding, flu -- in that order

2009-09-14T18:24:00.001-07:00

School started, my cousin got married and we had the flu.

This pretty much summarizes the past three weeks at our house. I kind of had this idea that once school began life would instantaneously become calm and predictable and, perhaps even, productive.

So school started. I had forgotten how wonderful school was. Two days into "school" I was sitting in my quiet house after a nice lunch with two children who were then napping and thought, it is so thoughtful of the state to offer to watch my kids for six-and-a-half hours a day, and not only THAT, but educate them during that time! Honestly, it feels like vacation, having two kids during the day, both of whom still nap.

I went to a parent meeting last week and I came away thinking, Wow, those are not just teachers, those are education professionals! That and a whole bunch of other factors makes me really happy that Zabe is going to school where he is right now.

And Jams started preschool. Which I love immeasurably more than the one Zabe went to. She loves it too. They did this "All About Me" poster last week. Here's what she came home with:

Things I Don't Like: Monsters

Really, I mean, who DOES like monsters? Why don't they just go away?!

And then there are three wishes:

When I got in the car after seeing this list, I asked Jams if I could borrow her magic wand if she ended up getting one. She said, Only if you use it to make more girls. I said, I just wanted it to clean up the dishes, so nevermind. She's been asking for a baby. I tried borrowing one, but she said she wanted one to keep. And then one day she came up and said, I know! I could pray for a baby! I told that wasn't necessary. And in my louded telepathic voice said PLEASE DON'T. So there are no plans in that direction, but she has me a little nervous.

And I must show you Kar's new haircut. She did it herself. It's kinda a mix between hipster and mullet:

So we went to this wedding and had an excellent time with family and even survived the 8-hour car ride. Last time we borrowed a DVD player and I think that provoked a lot of the puking that went on, because this trip was puke-free until the last 30 minutes. Which is totally do-able.

But we did travel the same path as a bunch of swine-flu infected WSU students, and presumably, that's why we got sick less than 48 hours later. At least, I'm going to say that it was swine flu. First, an AP report I read said that 98% of flus currently circulated are "swine variety" and also, my sister showed me this link where you can find out if you have swine flu and it said so. Which is great, because I survived and so I can check that off my list of things to do this winter. Also, maybe I can start a club called "I Survived Swine Flu '09".

september

2009-09-14T12:17:00.000-07:00

Remember Lame Poetry Mondays? It's been a while, but I'm celebrating again...

Crafty,
that fall is,
offering to take the nightshift
just when summer doubles over
with exhaustion.

The offer seems innocent enough,
even helpful.
But I know,
it's just a guise,
a step in the plan for hemisphereal season domination.

That pinch on your skin,
a quick breath
carrying the smell that makes leaves turn
red
orange
yellow
then crisp.

The garden gasps with the chill,
tomato vines cease their frantic scramble,
strawberries sigh with relief,
even zucchini lets up a little.
And sumac starts its show.

I tell you,
that fall is
Crafty.

community: some requirements

2009-09-01T14:03:00.000-07:00

Getting closer to a practical definition of community, or at least some characteristics of it. Here's some thoughts on basic requirements that must be met for genuine community to take place:

1. Shared experience. It is hard to community with someone with whom you have absolutely nothing in common. Similarly, it is hard to find someone with whom you have absolutely nothing in common. But still. The identification of that commonality would need to take place. That nature of the shared experience will likely affect the depth of the community. There are people who I went to high school with -- we had a shared experience -- but as we are presently not sharing that experience, we will need to find something else in common...or start a recovery group for people who graduated from LHS in 1998. Point being, the shared experience must occupy the present in some way. As for a Christ-follower, loving Jesus is common grounds enough to engage in community with another Christ-follower.

I'm still a little unsure about how proximity plays into this factor. At this point, I think you can enjoy community in a limited sense with those who you aren't in relative close geographic proximity to...but that community is best enjoyed with people close to you.

2. Participation. My friend Annie invited me to engage in an interesting exercise regarding this: she wrote out five needs that she felt could met through community...and then she wrote out five contributions she would like to make through community. She asked me to do the same. Deitrich Bonhoeffer's book Life Together, besides advising that singing only be done in unison, says this:

In a Christian community everything depends upon whether each individual is an indispensable link in a chain. Only when even the smallest link is securely interlocked is the chain unbreakable. A community which allows unemployed members to exist within it will perish because of them. It will be well, therefore, if every member receives a definite task to perform for the community, that he may know in hours of doubt that he, too, is not useless and unusable. Every Christian community must realize that not only do the weak need the strong, but also that the strong cannot exist without the weak. The elimination of the weak is the death of fellowship.

Too frequently our attempts at community -- large or small -- involve a few people doing all the work. I've been that leader doing all the work. I've been that person not doing the work who is dying to contribute and gets frustrated (and disengages) because there's not room for me. Community requires participation by all its members.

3. De-insulation. I know that's not a word, but the only other word that I can think of to describe it is headed for my "Overused and Therefore Banned Christian Words List" - vulnerability. But here's the picture: late on Saturday night I was laying on my dining room floor next to my big windows watching and listening to the thunderstorm. The thought occurred to me that I would more fully experience the storm if, instead of laying inside, I were to move outside...and lay on the deck. I would be able to FEEL...not just hear the rain....SMELL the lightning and not just see it. After consideration, I decided that at least for that night, I preferred the insulation of my windows and walls. More fully experiencing the storm was not worth getting wet.

But experiencing thunderstorms is not high on my list of life values right now. But experiencing community is. And if I really want to do it, I'm going to have to get wet. It will be uncomfortable sometimes.

I think when we think of that aforementioned banned word, we think of the emotional variety: "OK, everyone, let's share our deepest, darkest secrets." Yeah, community might involve this....but that's only a small part. Our culture insulates us in many other ways: in fact, compared to many other cultures we make ourselves emotionally vulnerable in shocking and inappropriate ways. But we are physically insulated -- we like our space. We're time-insulated -- we keep schedules that distance us from others. We're need insulated -- we don't anyone to ever have to help us with anything...and we'll work extra hours to buy what we could otherwise borrow. Our preference to remain comfortable interferes with our ability to fully experience community: community requires that we de-insulate.

Idea Factory: Orchards Bakery of Cookie Delights

2009-08-31T13:44:00.001-07:00

I have another new business idea, in case that Garden of Eatin' one doesn't work out:

Open up a cookie bakery. It would be called the Orchards Bakery of Cookie Delights. I'm not actually partial to the "Orchards", regional identifier though it may be...any word that started with "o" would work. Ostenacious. Opulent. Ornery. Anything just as long as the initials are OBCD.

Anyway, so we'll specialize in cookies -- and bars, since I really feel that brownies should be included. We'll have standard favorites that are always available, and then featured monthly selections -- some of which may relate to the seasons, but not all.

We could cater -- you know, provide lots of really amazing cookies for special events, but I also see a gift application. Individuals could send cookies -- really good cookies -- to people they love and then there's the whole "corporate gift" thing. Debating on having a store. Because I'd just want to have cookies and perhaps milk/tea/coffee -- but I know that kind of set-up is just begging to lose money. Just look at the Starbucks and Krispy Kreme financials, you know?

My favorite cookies to make would be the fortune cookies. Well, maybe not MAKING the cookies, but writing the fortunes. That would be a kick in the pants. At least it was when me and my brother did it a few times together back in high school.

I would need someone to go in on this with me. I think I'd need a detail oriented type, or at least someone who can use their hands for detail work -- we need the cookies and packaging to look good. Plus, it'd be boring to just make cookies by yourself.

Anyone want to join me?

new word: community

2009-08-24T19:14:00.000-07:00

I don't think I will ever forget it, the first morning I woke up at home after returning from Rwanda. I woke up a little earlier than everyone else and got up, walking into the living room. It was empty. Which, somehow, was at once expected and surprising and unusual. And a great disappointment.

It wasn't that I thought I might actually see Craig wandering in from the front porch, Malarone rhyme simmering in his mind...or Traci staring at the laptop screen, hoping if she glared at it just the right way, the Internet would start working...or Cheryl walking in in a few minutes, wondering if the tea was ready yet. But I felt their absence all the same.

I wasn't really prepared to actually like the people on my team. I was prepared to NOT like them. I'm not kidding: I had quite the mental arsenal of little tricks for how I was going to deal with these crazy people that I kinda knew and the crazy people that I didn't know. And I didn't get the chance to employ a single one of them.

I came back realizing that I am impoverished American when it comes to community. I understand that a short, intense trip of that nature creates an unnatural high and sense of closeness. And that given a couple more intense weeks in Rwanda, my previously mentioned mental arsenal would likely gotten some use. But I still have the sense that I tasted something there with the team, and within the culture of Rwanda, that I have been hungry for ever since.

So my new word is community. Mostly, right now, I'm asking questions: What is community? What does it look like for a mom in suburban Idaho? What does God intend for us in terms of community, how did He design it to work and what does He want it to look like? How much do I strive for community here and how much do I just crave and wait until I get Home? Is my desire for community selfish?

Like I said, I'm still trying to find a definition for the word, and looking for examples of and teachings about it in the Bible. The dictionary defines community as a group of people...and then we see words like similarity, identity, sharing, participation, fellowship. And then there's a kind of interesting ecological definition: "a group of plants and animals living and interacting with one another in a specific region under relatively similar environmental conditions."

Lucky for me, I get to enjoy community as I search for community. The topic came up in conversation with my friend Annie, who is here for a few months before returning to the other side of the world. She is a more experienced communitier, but ever a student. I am thrilled to have a Real Live Person to be interact with and challenge me in this area.

I read Life Together by Dietrich Bonhoeffer. It was...well, what I remember most was the part where he felt strongly that singing during any time of fellowship should be done in unison, because harmonies were an utter distraction. (Now there's a German for you!) No, there were some good parts too, but on the whole, I can't say it had quite the level of insight and application I was looking for.

Anyway, so this is my new word for the next little bit. I would be quite interested to hear about your thoughts about community...what it is, how you experience it, any non-German books you've read on the topic...anyone else want to community about community?

on husbands and cookies, with a great recipe for the later

2009-08-18T09:15:00.000-07:00

I hope you are having a really bad day.

Because if you are, then the goodness of what I'm posting here will be all the more dramatic from contrast.

You see, in my quest for the perfect chocolate chip cookie -- the ever-elusive Holy Grail of cookiedom -- I found the most beautiful cookie recipe. It is THE perfect cookie recipe? Well, of course, not.

You see, cookies are like husbands. To have the perfect version, the qualities must be matched to particular needs and whims of the moment. Often these qualities are in opposition and when they are not, chances are what you wanted yesterday is not what you want today.

Truely, we expect too much from both our cookies and our husbands.

So with our husbands, it is better content ourselves by enjoying the qualities that are present and available.

And with our cookies, it is better to have a wide range of recipes to choose from, a Cookie Harem, if you will. That way we can take our pleasure in whichever form suits the present inclination: thin and crispy, dense and oaty, carmely, nutty, white, brown...there is a place in our recipes (and bellies) for all of them.

So this would be one of my favorite picks from the Cookie Harem:

Quite Nearly Perfect Chocolate Chip Cookies

They're chewy. They're crispy. They're thick. What else could you possible want from a cookie?

Mix together:
1 c. melted butter (unsalted preferred)
1 1/2 c. brown sugar

Stir in and blend for a couple minutes:
2 3/4 c. flour
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp salt

Then add:
2 eggs, scrambled via microwave or stove top
1/2 tsp. vanilla

Blend together until doughy...to the point that the batter is sticking to the sides of the bowl.

And finally:
1 c. chocolate chips
1/2 - 1 c. chopped walnuts (optional)

Chill, ideally overnight, but at least for a couple hours in the freezer. Then drop them by spoonfuls on a cookie sheet and bake for 12-14 minutes at 350.

Tips:

* Don't underbake these. I usually prefer underbaked cookies, but believe me, these ones are a little weak and insipid if the edges don't get a little browned.
* Let the dough cool a bit before adding chocolate chips...unless you want partially melted chips and chocolate streaks in the dough (certainly not a bad thing...just so you know what you're getting).

Whys:

* The fully cooked egg keeps these butter-based cookies from spreading out too much. You can use whatever form of fully cooked egg you please -- hard-boiled or scrambled.
* The melted butter mixed with flour helps to form gluten, which keeps these cookies nice 'n' chewy.
* The brown sugar makes for a moister cookie
* Butter gives these cookies their crispy edges

in case you ran out of doughnuts...

2009-08-15T11:28:00.000-07:00

I haven't had a maple bar in forever. I don't know how that happened, but I'm glad I had these tasty treats to hold me over until that forever is over. That's right, the long awaited reveal of Anne's famous maple cookies was originally posted by The Farmer's Wife.

Annie's-via-The-Farmer's Wife Vermont Maple Cookies

1/2 cup shortening
1 1/2 cups packed brown sugar
2 eggs
1 cup commercial sour cream
1 tsp maple flavoring
2 3/4 cup flour
1/2 tsp soda
1 tsp salt

Mix shortening, sugar and eggs thoroughly. Stir in sour cream and maple flavoring. Blend in dry ingredients. (This dough is VERY soft...don't be concerned.)

Heat oven to 375. Drop teaspoons of dough on GREASED cookie sheet and bake about 10 minutes or until imprint remains when touched lightly. Cool completely, then frost with Maple Glaze.

Maple Glaze

Heat 1/2 cup real butter until golden brown. Blend in 2 cups of sifted powdered sugar and 2 tsp maple flavoring. (It will look AWFUL, I can promise you...the next step will fix that.) Stir in 2-4 tablespoons HOT water until icing spreads smooth. (During the frosting process, you may need to add little bits of water to maintain consistancy. It won't hurt it.)

Makes about 4 dozen cookies.

Here's my take:

These cookies were quite cakey...a quality I tend to dislike in a cookie. But that was quite easily remedied by spreading the batter into a baking pan and turning them into cookie bars. Call that a weird mental issue, if you like: it is what it is.

And in this cake/cookie bar form I enjoyed them immensely. As did the friend of mine who I shared it with. She asked for the recipe. And then proceded to undergo an emergency pre-term c-section. They (mom and baby) are both doing well. I think Baby G was just so excited about that great maple flavor coming through the placenta, he got a little excited and decided to come early...

i don't garden in the summer

2009-08-10T13:52:00.000-07:00

Or blog, apparently. I haven't been gardening because when it is 100 degrees outside, that doesn't sound fun. And I haven't been blogging because I've been playing "ketchup" with the hundred projects I've started and left unfinished. Following your whims works well until you irritate everyone you know because of the half-done work you've left lying around.

Anyway, so this is my ketchup garden blog, wherein I post all the pictures from the last...what?...month? But like I said, I am least passionate about my garden in the summer when it is exploding. Right now, with my garden I am like one of those friends who only comes to you when they want something and once they have it (or realize that you don't), they leave. That's right, I am a Garden User.

But I am excited about what comes out of the garden. Like this zucchini. It is totally not what I ordered. Even after attempts were made to replace it with what I did order. It is really spiney, but at least it tastes good.

Here's the grapevine that's crawling up my deck post....

And the broccoli...or is it cabbage?...brassica, anyway...that will hopefully grow in time for a fall harvest...

And this is why we pinch off suckers on tomato plants. I've been curious and now I know: unpinched plants turn into jungles and their fruit stays small and green for a long time.

This is one of the hundreds of squash bugs (I think -- I know it is a hemipteran) that attacked my pumpkin plant. Die! Die! Die!

Here are the eggs of said insect, which are so cute. But I want them also to DIE! DIE! DIE!

Take a look at that bug mass. Isn't that the grossest thing ever? I really thought I was going to have nightmares about these guys. I sprayed insecticidal soap, but they didn't DIE! DIE! DIE! in the numbers I would've preferred. Maybe I will try some country music.

And here we have a nice white eggplant. I hadn't remembered I had bought a white eggplant, so that was a fun surprise. See? Disorganization has it's perks.

This is Silvery Fir Tree and peppers. I grew Silvery Fir Tree for its alleged compact and decorative qualities. Which I did not find to be as grand as had been touted. But they DO produce a relatively early tomato, with good flavor, size and shape.

Here I've got a Black Krim. I am enjoying the flavor of these big (no, make that HUGE), ugly (no, make that monsterous) guys. They have a professorial flavor: subtle and rich and almost intellectual. They are from Russia. If I had been in charge of naming these guys it would have been Tolstoy Reincarnate.

Here's a luffa. Like the sponge. I guess I'm supposed to grow it until it gets all hard and ugly and I let it dry and then I peel off the skin and WAHLAH! A luffa! ("Wahlah a luffa" should definitely be a more-often-used phrase.)

This is my Garden Peach. That tastes quite nicely. It is friendly. She has lots of friends on Facebook. She read Twlight...she found it a little childish, but enjoyed it anyway. And she doesn't think any less of her friends who are obsessing over it. Even if she should.

I thought Zinnias were Grandma flowers. But they're pretty cool. They're my favorite spot in the garden, actually.

Here's the raspberries I planted this spring. Everbearers. Saanich, to be exact.

Sadly, my blueberries are....diseased or dying or something. I wish I knew. I'm sad. It's just the two that were not new or transplanted this spring...

Cute little melon....

Here's my frontyard groundcover: cantaloupe.

Last year I decided that planting 10 tomato plants was too much. That I didn't particarly like being a tomato factory. That next year I was going to only plant 4-5. But then spring happened and 12 tomato plants ended up in the ground. So there are tomatoes coming out my ears. Again. And I am a tomato factory. Again.

And uh, I hestitated to post this, but...it was such a find. Humorously misshaped tomatoes like this need to be shared. (I tried, with no success, to come up with a caption for this that did not involve the word "viagra".)

Here's a little tenacious zinnia. It is growing in an inch of mulch, on top of landscape fabric, with no irrigation. Truely inspirational. (It's in full flower now...I need to update the picture.)

Rudbekia w/ Red Rubin basil. Lovely combo. Thanks to the Farmer's Wife for the seed!

You know the mustard seed that grows into a tree? This is it. Broccoli, afterall, is just a mutant mustard. (Teenage Mutant Floral Mustards, anyone?)

fontologist transfer hiccups

2009-08-05T14:08:00.000-07:00

This is just to inform you that I'm switching things up with my domain name and website a bit. See, I don't use the website much and those of you who do are mostly just trying to get to my blog (it is such a sought after internet destination, I know) SO, I'm going to save me a bit of money and you a bit of hassle and this blog will be my only website.

I hope it goes smoothly but I'm just warning you. It might not.

Remember when I switched templates a while back. Maybe like in, Februrary? And how my top links haven't ever worked? And how I always start things and don't finish them? Yeah. Trying to work on that. Trying to remember that "simple, but working" beats "many-featured, but non-existent"...

tomato-like generousity

2009-08-01T13:22:00.000-07:00

If you will recall, I was in the Generosity 201 class prior to leaving for Rwanda. Funnily enough, it appears to have ended, more or less, about an hour before arriving in Rwanda and I wanted to summarize my findings.

Generosity is this:

Let's pretend I'm next door neighbors with God. There is dividing line between our yards, maybe an aged wooden fence covered with, well say, some trumpet vine, and the fence also has a walkway, so that we can easily access each others' yards.

God has a HUGE garden, of course, and one of the things growing in his garden are tomatoes. Lots and lots of ripe tomatoes. Because we're not just neighbors, we're friends, God has said over and over, "My garden is your garden. You can have as many tomatoes as you want."

Contrast that with my yard: I have some suffering brown grass and a very small garden, featuring a single spindly tomato plant. There are only a handful of tomatoes on it, just starting to ripen.

Then one of my friends comes to visit. After chatting inside, I find some excuse to show her around the yard and she spies my tomatoes. "They look amazing!" she says, showing some definite interest in the ripe tomato I was planning to eat for dinner. I can tell she wants it. She doesn't have a tomato plant, and she isn't neighbors with God, so she can't just go get some whenever she wants.

Here's my natural inclination:

Ignore the implied request. I was planning to eat it, afterall, and it's the only ripe tomato in my yard. And looking at the plant, it doesn't seem like there's going to be a whole lot of ripe tomatoes in my garden's future. Besides, I grew it myself. I deserve the tomato, the fruit of my labor!

Here's generosity:

Give the friend the tomato. Sure, I worked hard for it and it's the only one in the yard. But next door there's a million more! In fact, maybe I should just go over and pick a bunch and bring them back to her.

Generosity is living in the truth of God's limitless resources. Which means, God is the generous one and we just get to pick what we do with all we have access to.

I've known this before, of course, that all we have is God's and blah, blah, blah. But it somehow clicked after I received a mass email about bringing extra new or used twin-size bedsheets to Rwanda to leave at the guesthouse. We have one spare set, but then I wondered if it'd be more generous to go buy a new one (and not have to part with my spare set). In typical Michelle fashion, I was agonizing about this decision, and finally it was as if God said, "Look. It's community property. Your bedsheets are the guesthouse's bedsheets, theirs are yours, and it doesn't matter who gets the old ones or the new ones or the green ones. I've got lots of bedsheets to go around."

I don't think I can adequately explain what made the light turn on and how things looked after the light was on. It just came on and things look different. And it looks like I'm not acting like my neighbor has tomatoes.

What I want to think and act upon is this: I can liberally pass on what I have because if I need more, I've got connections. Likewise, if I have need, or I see need that I cannot personally supply, I can can ask for is needed. Of course, the practicalities of this theory can get messy, but so far it's already made life easier.

And that's just the material side of things.

Ephesians ended up as the book of choice during the 40-hour trip to Rwanda, which is essentially about the generosity of God's grace and how because we've been given so much grace, we can pass that on. What stood out were all these words: riches, lavished, gift of God, blessing, inheritance, glorious, immeasurable, stewardship of God's grace.

It culminates beginning in Ephesians 3.17 and heading into the 4th chapter. Here is my paraphrase, read it (the real one) and see if you agree:

More than anything, I want you to understand the HUGENESS of God's love -- which is basically that God's love is so huge that it is completely beyond your ability to understand. When you get this, you'll be full; you will have all you need. (In fact, you will have even more than you can even think to ask for -- God is THAT big and THAT full of love...isn't He just amazing?!) And when you actually get this -- that God's love gives us more than we can even imagine -- then you'll be able to live like you were designed to live: you will be humble and gentle and patient and loving...

Basically, this passage in Ephesians summarizes exactly what I found and exactly what I want to act on: You've been given something big -- live it!

leadership 101

2009-07-25T20:41:00.000-07:00

This past week I was priviledged to attend a one-on-one, individually crafted leadership seminar. It was very interesting and I learned a lot. It was called Godprint.

I came into this Godprint thing expecting to have a good time, but I did not expect to get the "learning high" I get when I see new things and connect dots, dots that look new but have likely been there a while. And I didn't really expect the topic to be leadership, but God has a funny class schedule that way.

Given the seriousness of the topic, I will present my findings in an inspirational poster format. These posters will be made available for purchase at a future date...along with a 6-set DVD seminar version of this content.

1. People reach their highest potential when someone believes in them.

I think that my brother-in-law Moses -- the children's pastor and coordinator of the whole Godprint thing -- is the most affirming and accepting person I know. I bet he could find something to value in a decomposing rat, and it wouldn't even take him a half-second to come up with it.

It is amazing to watch how people just bloom in this kind of environment. People know they are valued and that someone -- Moses or other staff -- thinks highly of them and feels they have something valuable to contribute to the group.

And it's not just dosed out with a pile of meaningless sentimental words; people can see through that kind of thing. But I saw and experienced what happens when a leader accurately identifies ability and achievement and says "I know you can do it".

I kind of saw this in Rwanda. I came on the trip with a whole pile of previous experiences or impressions about people on my team from my church. Those from other churches didn't have access to these files. And so they based their judgement on what they saw, and you know what? They liked these people! They affirmed the gifts these people had that I hadn't seen through all my previous misconceptions. I saw people I had labeled as "just OK" come to life under this praise and become much more than "just OK". They were the same people, but a much more talented, interesting, pleasant, useful version of themselves. It was amazing what a little "we like you and believe in you" can do for a person.

I'm pretty critical by nature. And anything you can do, I can do better. So this was a big pill for me to swallow: if I can't find value and genuinely believe 100% in someone I'm leading, then I'm a just a leader wanna-be.

2. People reach their highest potential when they are released to pursue their own dreams.

My least favorite thing about helping out with certain things is that it's boring. It's really, really boring to have to do exactly what someone else tells you to do.

The process for teaching at Godprint seems to go something like this:

"Hey! Wanna teach at Godprint?"

"Sure! What do you want me to teach?"

"Oh...whatever you want."

And so there's all these people teaching all these things they're really passionate about and really good at. (OK, well, I'm not so good at the Adventure Stories, but...) These people were given room to dream and a place to do it...all within a framework of a common goal.

I forget sometimes that I'm not the only person that has dreams. I kinda don't think I'm the only one who forgets this. Leaders who only pursue their own dreams and ask people to hop along aren't going to get as far as the leaders who pursue their own dreams by asking people to dream with them.

Via Moses, I got a copy of The Dream Manager -- a fictional, albiet cheesy, business parable about a janitorial company that hires a Dream Manager to equip employees to achieve dreams that were only slightly out of their reach. Dream are powerful things. And leaders who fail to take advantage of this, it seems, are foolish.

It reminds me slightly of when people used to ask me to design a logo for them and proceed to tell me exactly what to do. Because usually their ideas sucked. To the point that usually I would turn down the job because I just couldn't bring myself to create something so awful.

But we do that. We ask someone to be part of our team and then tape their mouth shut and tell them what to do. And then we wonder why they put out such bad work, and are frustrated and demotivated and eventually quit.

3. People reach their highest potential when they do what they were made to do.

I already knew this, so this section was review. But, God made a lot of really talented people. And they're talented in different things. And people like doing what they're good at and they don't like doing what they're bad at.

This doesn't mean we should only do what we like to do, what we're good at doing (remember? 'cause then who would take care of all the crying babies with stinky diapers?). But it does mean that a leader should try their very bestest to make sure those under them get to spend at least some time making use of their strengths. People want to use their talents for the benefit of others. They get excited about doing that. And the others who benefit get some quality stuff. See? Happy people all around.

4. People reach their highest potential when leaders seek to find value in others instead of themselves.

Sometimes when I'm in charge of something, I use it to inflate my head.

But good leaders are humble and they use their position to recognize and value and build up others...instead of their own egos.

This should be a given, especially for people who are Christians. But you know...those humans. Always messing up at one thing or another.

If a leader is trying to find worth in their position? It is going to be ugly. And they're going to be a poor leader of annoyed and frustrated people.

Again, Moses was a great example this past week: he spent his time recognizing others' contributions instead of his own. He and Cindy probably spent as much on the t-shirt design as I did and I ended up getting the credit for my two hours of work. And of course, he and Cindy didn't take credit for coming up with the whole theme and organizing it all -- they are not those people that manage to sneak in those "WE spent a lot of time doing ___ so YOU could ___ " just in case people hadn't noticed.

I guess this last one kinda sums it up. Basically, good leaders are others-centered. They are more focused on developing people than getting a task done just the way they want. They have a firmly fixed vision and a common goal, but they ask people to use their own dreams and goals to get there. They realize they don't have all the right answers and that others' ideas and opinions can be a valuable contribution.

I realize these aren't new leadership concepts to anyone except me. And maybe not even new to me, just new in a different way. But they've given me something to chew on and something to be aware of and work towards in my own life.

the ultimate adventure: my week at Godprint

2009-07-25T14:18:00.001-07:00

Somehow I got asked to teach a class at GodPrint this year.

Well, not exactly "somehow". Afterall, it is my brother and sister-in-law that organize it every year at River City Church, here in town.

GodPrint is, as Kim says, "the cadillac of vacation Bible schools": kids take three "classes" during the week (basketball, dance, airbrushing, drawing, drama, etc.) AND it's all presented with the yearly theme -- which Moses (my brother in law) always comes up with and which everyone assumes has been professionally created -- that is designed to draw these kids closer to God. This year's theme was The Ultimate Adventure, based on the movie UP!.

Since teachers get to teach whatever they want, I taught "Adventure Stories", which I vaguely decided would basically be making and writing in a journal, ie, recording your own adventure stories.

Monday, the "set-up day", I was basically still at that point in the development of the class.

Tuesday each class sewed folded pages to the foam core I had cut out the day before. Yeah. I got a few dirty looks, even though I was trying to convince them this was going to be the most boring, hardest part. At least we were stuck in a poorly ventilated basement room wherein we were able to take full advantage of the rubber cement fumes emitted during our sessions...

Wednesday we decorated book covers with scraps of paper and beads and buttons and more rubber cement. (Which, I explained in class, looks like boogers when it dries in globs.)

Thursday I couldn't bring myself to actually make them write in class because I always hate writing when there are people around. Plus...I don't really know anything about writing. So we talked about how every story needs a plot, and how God's a great author and He's who makes our story great. Then I asked them to write down some dreams, some things they want in their plot someday. And that was really cool. Even if it didn't have anything to do with writing. Being embarassed about your dreams starts young. Too young. But those 4-6 graders are still capable of dreaming big.

Here was one dream:

One kid wants to be a chef. He said can make tomato soup. "From scratch," I ask, amazed, "or from a can." "From a can. I can heat it on the stove," he said proudly...but maybe a little less proudly than he would've had I not contrasted canned soup against from-scratch soup.

I find out during the week that this kid comes from a pretty tough home situation. It made me think of the boys living on the street in Kigali. As in, it's a toss up between which offers the least hope and potential.

But he's a super great kid. And really talented. I kinda want to invite him over and help him make tomato soup from scratch.

Here's another dream:

This is a picture of the kid surfing. This is a dream of his because this kid has a heart condition wherein he cannot participate in any physical exercise. He dreams of surfing, of swimming, of running...because he can't. His dream is that someday his heart will work right. Right there we asked that God make that dream part of his plot.

After dream sharing, we told two rounds of stories from life: the first theme was "I thought I was going to die" and the second "It was the hugest mess ever". Those topics were winners; we got some great -- if not a little strange -- stories.

Friday, I had no idea what to do. We briefly discussed character, how we need good characters to make our plot interesting (in writing and in life). And then we listened to stories from This American Life. Which was trickier than it sounds because finding stories that are both interesting AND appropriate for 4-6 graders wasn't easy. I settled on the Cop vs. Squirrel story and the one about a guy who goes around in a Superman costume sometimes, just for fun. And while they were listening they were doodling or making confetti or paper snowflakes or cards. I thought they were probably bored out of their mind, but one kid at the end said, "this was my favorite day -- I love listening to stories!" So at least one of them was OK with it.

Here's our classes:

And here's the more artistic representation, drawn by Cami who co-taught with me -- isn't she amazing?!

Here's one girl and the book she made -- a 120-page handbound journal:

Another class:

And the more boring version (Cami is second from left):

And here's the third session:

Yeah. So I kinda want to go back and do it all again next week.

This experience was the perfect follow-up for Rwanda. Because it felt the same. It looked the same, only with more resources and a shared language and lighter skin tones. And the best part is that I LIVE here. Where these kids live. So maybe, if I worked at it, I could hang out with these kids again. Maybe?...

Rwanda 09 | get off your...

2009-07-18T12:42:00.000-07:00

So back to a form of the previous question, "what now?" I have a couple clear thoughts, a lot of muddy thoughts and a smattering of Bible bits that I'm going to attempt to share...

First, the clear thoughts. I had not even been in Rwanda a day, when I got a swift kick in the pants from God regarding a dream/assignment that He gave me 2 1/2 years ago. It's just a little idea-project I've been wanting to get going, but I am lazy and easily discouraged. But this sermon got me reenergized, and conversations with team members since our return home have me hopeful that maybe this thing is going to go somewhere. If it does, I'll give details. So that's my little "what now?" project, finishing something God's already started.

Now for the muddy thoughts.

Most of the things we did in Rwanda, I didn't actually really want to do. I didn't feel like hanging out with rough teenage boys that don't speak English. I didn't feel like chit-chatting with grade school girls whose names and faces I could never keep straight. I don't like kid parties in America, why on earth would I want to travel halfway across the world and do them there?

The things we did were not my areas of gifting or passion and they did not utilize my God-given personality. By golly.

But you know what? I ended up kinda enjoying myself and it was nice feeling a part of something, feeling like I was actually doing something, even if it wasn't anything significant.

Hanging out with the street kids was the hardest thing for me to do each time we did it. I even tried to think of ways to get out of it. Of course, they ended up being the hardest to say good-bye to.

On the last day I was standing out in the middle of the chaos and it struck me what a beautiful thing the body of Christ is. Scattered all over were little groups of people, each doing some little activity, tug-of-war, juggling and magic tricks with coins, just hanging out and talking. Some people were a little out of their area of expertise -- me jump-roping or doing cartwheels, let's say -- but we were all at least trying. And over time you'd see people honing in and gravitating towards "their thing" -- I ended up drawing pictures in the dirt with sticks and getting language lessons because that's easy for me, others ended up bandaging wounds or playing hand games or enjoying a game of soccer.

One of the passages we discussed in our devotions was the story of the Good Samaritan. I always relate well with the religious leaders who cross to the other side of the road. I excell at finding excuses -- good, even biblical, ones -- to not engage. As we're discussing the story, the words from a sermon I heard online a while back came to mind. Drawing from at how the Samaritan responded to the suffering man, the guy said that the first step you have to take in order to help someone is to get off your ass. (I find that an effective play on words; apologies if you find it offensive.)

How could it be said more perfectly than that? I am lazy and I am disinclined to engage. That has to change about me if I want to ever effect change in others.

Two parables spoke to me the other day about how we're to approach engaging in God's kingdom:

I'd recently read the Parable of the Ten Virgins (which always sounds much more exciting than it is...it's about the young girls who are keeping watch for the bridegroom) in Matthew 25 in my "generousity" study. It stood out as being one of the only times in the Bible where someone is commended for refusing another person's request for help. I read it again the other day -- the passage has always been a little vague for me -- and it struck me how we are not called to be generous with our purpose or focus. We can be distracted by others' purpose/focus to the point that compromises our own.

Right after that parable, comes the Parable of the Talents, where the servants are given five, two, and one talent respectively and how the one with five invests and earns five more, the one with two earns two more, and the one with one talent buried it in the ground so it would stay safe.

Right now, I'm struggling with being the one-talent man. I feel like I'm trying so hard to be purposeful or intentional or strategic that I'm totally missing the point. I say 'no' to everything that is minorly inconvenient because I worry that I'm wasting my time, that I will end up doing something that will distract me from what I really should be doing.

I struggle with living like this is an either/or kind of thing, but it isn't; we can simultaneously invest our talent and keep our oil.

From that passage, I suddenly felt inclined to read 1 Corinthians 13...which seemed random at the time and not so random afterwards. I started a chapter ahead to get my context.

And I found another fine line to walk when it comes to engaging in God's kingdom:

1 Corinthians 12 talks about spiritual gifts. I was asked the other day what my gifts are. I haven't a clue. I've taken spiritual gift tests and personality tests and strength-finder tests and how-you-grow-close-to-God tests and so far? I'm still clueless.

So I've been trying to look for some Magical Area of Ministry that utilizes all these things that I am and doesn't require me to utilize all the things that I am not. I've dismissed ideas and opportunities because they don't suit me in various ways, mostly that they require me to be relational.

In other words, that they require me to love.

Which is why the Love passage follows the Spiritual Gifts passage, I think. To paraphrase what I read, it says "Who freakin' cares how you're gifted: Love! And just so you know, if you're doing it right, it won't be easy and it might even hurt a little."

Part of it too, is that I've been mostly involved in "unfruitful" ministry lately. A couple of the passages we discussed on the trip emphasized that we're supposed to be making disciples...that we are designed to bear fruit, ie reproduce. Now I've done that in a more literal sense and now've got three little disciples running around at home. But most of my ministry time is little projects I can do at home. Which is fine and useful and perhaps even beneficial, BUT the #1 job we have is making disciples, that is, investing time in actual people. So to give that up because all my extra time is spent on these non-people projects is not actually how it's supposed to be.

So what am I doing about all this right now? Praying. I've got a few ideas going around in my head of things I'd like to do. Sure I'm still limited with my time and ability, but I'm also tired of making excuses. Even if it's just something small, I want to engage. I want to love. I want to get off my...

Rwanda 09 | life changing?

2009-07-17T08:22:00.000-07:00

I promise. I'm almost done talking about it. Bear with me...

Not 24 hours after I had landed back on US soil, someone asked of the trip, "So...was it life changing?"

Truth is, it was a little early to tell then. And it's a little early to tell even now. Maybe check back with me in about 10 years, and I'll be able to answer the question.

Definitely one of the motivations for going was for life to change a little. I guess you figure that a trip to Africa will do that to you. But as I mentioned at the beginning, that hope can be taken to unhealthy extremes.

I remember when my friend Charity came back from her year in Guatemala. I think I asked a similar kind of question, though I'd like to believe it was prompted by her mentioning that her time there had been life changing and based on what she had seen and experienced, she wanted her life here to be different.

"Like what?", I had asked.

She pauses for a second, thinking. "I'm going to start recycling."

Even at the time, I knew that wasn't even the beginning of it. And sure enough it wasn't: she recently returned from producing a powerful bilingual play that she wrote about her experience, a play that was performed by an actual theatre company and watched by actual people. So the world already looks different because of her time in Guatemala. This in addition to the many ways the experience has shaped her daily life. Including recycling. When you take the first step of a journey, you don't always know where you're going.

Rwanda didn't feel life changing. In that, I pretty much live how I lived before. Plus, I already recycle. But there a few things I want to keep from the experience, so I'll mention them because my "other journal" consists of random scraps of paper with random scraps of thought and I can never find anything...

So here's what I want to keep from Rwanda:

the morning call to prayer - every morning at 5 am, there was a Muslim call to prayer that woke me almost every morning. And so I prayed. I really, really liked it. When I got home, I considered building a mosque down the road. But then thought that maybe setting my alarm would work equally well. And then I could pick a time after 5 am. I used to get up early for my time with God, but that was BC (before children), and I've not yet disciplined myself to get back to doing quiet times the way I love to do quiet times. It seems crazy that I had to go to Africa to remember that I really do prefer starting my day that way, rather than fitting it in after breakfast.

people - I am, or so I thought, a severe introvert, needing a lot of alone time. So I was really stressed about how being with people all day would affect me. And it turns out, maybe I'm more extroverted than I thought. Initiating actual real live people time is really hard for me. It is almost bizarre how much I hate calling people, even people I really like. But I need more people time. I don't have a plan yet of how to do this and that's not good because I can already feel the excuses welling up.

worship - no offense to anyone, but when we get to heaven, I'm going to sneak out of the American worship section and sneak into the Rwanda worship section. Where I'll probably be greeted by all the other Americans who have also worshipped in Rwanda. The passion with which they worship is...moving. Like for reals. And I used to think that it was just an Africa thing, that people in Africa just all have rhythm and know how to dance and it just happens when music is played. But I learned that they actually put some work into their passion...that they dance not because they always feel like it, but because they want to worship God in that way and so they do it even when they don't feel like it. Also, worship, personal worship, was more integrated into everyday life. That was good. So I come home and I have to remind myself that the God I worshipped in Rwanda is the same as the God I worship here...and there's no reason my worship has to change. Truth is, I've just had it with lame worship: heartless, critical, people-and-self-oriented worship. So what if it's a lame song -- they sing lame songs in Rwanda too. What's not lame is our God; He's worth putting some effort into worshipping.

simplicity - this is what everyone says when they come back from these trips and reality tells me this probably this won't change, but I want to remember that I want it to change, so I'm including it. I liked not having everything I wanted. I liked having 3 meals a day instead of 27. I liked not having sweets and packaged snacks. I liked not being able to access the Internet whenever I wanted. I liked that the power was sometimes off and that sometimes there was no running water. I liked stinking and having dirty clothes. I liked that certain goods or even solutions to problems were not available. I liked being physically exhausted at the end of a day.

flexibility - plans don't exist in Africa. And I found it kinda refreshing. (Given another few weeks, I'm sure I'd feel otherwise.) I want to let go of everything going PERFECTLY and according to MY plan all the time. I mean, there's a time for plans, but too often my plans don't have time for people. So I'd like to keep that sense of perspective and flexibility.

Rwanda 09 | living water in Kageyo

2009-07-16T08:48:00.000-07:00

Remember Kageyo, with the hippo pond water full of crap and mud that people drink? Remember how I've been praying for Living Water to come to Kageyo -- having in mind both clean water wells and Jesus/a church?

Well, Living Water is literally coming. Living Water is an international Christian well-drilling organization and apparently has funding to drill three new wells there and repair two that already exist. And a church in North Virginia has committed to building a church there.

How's that for crazy goodness?!?

Rwanda 09 | plantage

2009-07-15T21:33:00.001-07:00

I can't believe I almost forgot to tell you about my visit to a Rwandan nursery.

I spotted my first nursery on our 1 1/2 hour drive from Kigali to Kayonza. It was a little shelter by the road, constructed with crooked boards or branches and draped with burlap or other light-filtering material. I restrained myself enough to keep from insisting that the driver stop immediately...but not enough to communicate to fellow passengers my delight at spotting a nursery.

Fortunately, I had a conversation with Confidence in which she expressed a desire to see more flowers around the children's home. So, of course, a visit to a nursery was in order.

A nursery close to the guesthouse was recommended to me: the prices were high, but the owner actually knew the names of the plants he sold -- unlike most other nursery owners. Plus, it was one we could walk to.

Sanyu took me to the nursery one morning as everyone else headed to the church for a...I don't remember what they did. Something else. We walked for about 15 minutes, across a busy (read: paved) road and up some unnamed meandering streets, until we came to what seemed to be a random home. Like most homes in Kigali it was gated. But I knew we were at the right place because there was some beautiful loamy brown dirt piled to one side of the drive -- in contrast to Rwanda's red clayey dirt.

We pounded on the gate several times, waiting for someone to open it. A local man came to our rescue and pounded really, really hard on the gate and finally someone came to open it up.

One of the employees showed us to "the greenhouse" -- I could've stayed for half the day just looking, but I didn't want to bore Sanyu to death. It was full of the most beautiful plants -- most of which I didn't recognize. Most of which I wanted to take home with me. I picked out two plants to purchase and then asked the employee if I could take a picture. The response was no -- a little disappointing, but glad I didn't just snap a picture and disrespect the worker or the nursery.

As we were leaving though, I spotted an older man who looked very ownerly and so I asked him if he was the owner of this beautiful place. Yes, he was. So I gushed about the plants and told him how my grandpa was an amazing gardener and would love his gardens and how I much I loved his garden -- the nursery only took up maybe a 1/10 of the estate, the rest was all gardens -- and gushed and gushed...and then asked to take his picture.

He agreed. So here he is in front of the nursery area:

And then he got all excited and wanted me to take his picture in front of his favorite spot in the garden:

He is only horticulturist that the Americans running the guesthouse knew of in Kigali, and the man said that he had done the landscaping at the US Embassy and a couple other large projects around the city; from his demeanor and the size of his establishment, I could see that he was one of Kigali's premier landscapers.

After the picture taking, one of his employees showed us around the garden. Pictures cannot even describe it; it was just beautiful. I wish I could've had my grandpa with me.

This was a favorite plant. It was maybe a couple feet taller than I am:

And there was a monkey in a cage in a corner of the garden. He seemed pretty friendly...didn't try to steal my camera as I took a picture, anyway:

This was the succulent section of the garden. Very imaginative; I didn't see many succulents otherwise in Rwanda:

The palms are to die for:

And this was a beautiful bush. I would've called it Burning Bush, since it looks more like a burning bush than our Burning Bush:

And another funky plant. It's really not fair: all the plant types in Rwanda are my favorites. Of course, they don't grow here.

Loved this pairing:

All over the grounds were these huge mosaiced planters. I don't know what the green stuff was, but I really liked the use of gravel and, in several other pots, mirror. They were all created right there on the grounds:

I got an impatien for Confidence and also this bluish flower. No idea what it is:

So after our garden tour, I pick up my plants, ready for the trek home, when we were offered a ride home in the owner's Subaru station wagon! Now THAT was an honor! I joked to him that the service in Rwanda is much, much better than the service I get in America. He laughed and they drove us right back to the guesthouse -- I thanked him and told him I will come back and visit him the next time I am in Rwanda.

Rwanda 09 | Sambusas

2009-07-14T20:16:00.000-07:00

Weirdly enough, the meal that featured the meat that I most enjoyed was the meal that I never eat meat for at home: breakfast. The first morning that these little sambusas were served, I was a little skeptical. Until I had a bite. And after that, there was a small party happening in my world when I saw those sambusas waiting for us on the buffet table.

I wanted to learn how to make them. But -- to my utter disappointment -- they were purchased from a local vendor! Truly, I'm not sure it would be physically possible to wait until my next visit to Africa to consume sambusas.

So, in the spirit of culinary experiments, I gave them a shot. And I met with grand success. Only change for next time is to make more.

Sambusas

Get your large skillet going over medium heat and throw in:
1 lb. ground beef -- the leaner, the more "authentic"
2 green onions, sliced thin
1/3 c. finely chopped onion

Drain the fat when that beef is cooked through and add:
1/2 tsp. cumin
1/4 tsp. crushed red pepper -- or more if you like
1 tsp. salt, or to taste

Cook for another minute or two to release the flavors and then remove from heat.

Now you get your oil going: heat a deep heavy pot over medium to medium-high heat so the oil reaches -- and maintains -- around 365 degrees.

Set out:
8-10 uncooked tortillas or spring roll wrappers -- you can buy these or make them yourself

Divide the meat mixture evenly between the tortillas and fold into triangles, cutting off excess tortilla and crimping the edges to seal. Drop the pocket into the oil -- don't overcrowd -- and fry until outside is a nice golden brown. Remove from oil and drain. Then eat the meaty-fatty goodness before someone else beats you to it.

Rwanda 09 | matoke

2009-07-14T20:02:00.001-07:00

Matoke is a staple in Rwanda, and from what I understand, Uganda and Kenya as well. It can be prepared in a variety of ways, but it always features 'matoke' or plantains -- those little green bananas you can sometimes find at the grocery store. Unlike regular bananas, matoke is not sweet, but starchy and hard and cooks up like a potato.

And since Idaho is lacking in plantains, and famous for its potatoes...I present to you...Idatoke! Or patoke, if you want to give it the potato prefix.

Idatoke: Idaho matoke

Chop up and saute in 1 Tbsp of oil:
1/2 c. onion
1/2 c. green pepper
1-2 carrots, sliced into rounds
2 cloves of garlic

When veggies are beginning to get soft, add:
1/2 can tomato sauce or diced tomatoes or fresh pureed tomatoes
1 Tbsp. tomato paste

Then stir in:
3-4 c. of potatoes, peeled and cut into 1 to 1 1/2 inch cubes
salt, pepper, cayenne to taste

Cook until potatoes are soft and releasing starch, forming a stewy consistency. This will take around 25-40 minutes. You may need to add water if mixture becomes too dry.

Finally, just before you take the pot off the heat, add 1 c. green peas and heat through.

Rwanda 09 | Rwanda cookies

2009-07-14T19:48:00.001-07:00

Oh yes. You knew they were coming, right? A Rwanda-inspired cookie recipe? Here's what I've got so far. There is peanut butter, which we had a lot of in our two weeks there. There is oatmeal, which is expensive, but at least available. There is a shortening-butter pairing that mimics the Blue Band margarine baking capabilities. And there is molasses. Because they use raw sugar which is too expensive here to mess with, but adding a little molasses at least hints in that direction. I do need to find a way to deal with the chocolate chips, since they're not available in Rwanda. I doubt raisins are either.

My sister liked them. Said they almost taste healthy. But don't be fooled; they're not. I like the gooey element the molasses adds to the cookie, and the nutty addition of peanut butter.

Rwanda Cookies v. 1.0

Cream:

1/2 c. peanut butter
1/4 c. shortening
1/4 c. butter
1 3/4 c. brown sugar
1/4 c. molasses

Add:

1 egg
1 tsp. vanilla

Mix in:

2 c. flour (I think. Maybe up to 2 1/2, but I think it's 2)
1 1/2 c. oatmeal
1 c. chocolate chips

Bake them at 350 for 10-12 minutes. They taste, in the faintest of ways, of an early Rwandan morning, just after a bowl of oatmeal, just as you're making your peanut butter sandwich for lunch.

* You can use whatever ratio of butter to shortening you like to equal 1/2 cup. More butter means more spready cookies.

Rwanda 09 | child sponsorship

2009-07-11T12:58:00.000-07:00

We've sponsored a child with Africa New Life Ministries for about two years. His name is Kevin and he is about a month older than Zabe. Honestly, the motivation in doing this was us-centered: I thought it would be good for each of the kids to have a "twin sibling" in Rwanda --broadening their world and all. We've really grown to love Kevin and look forward to his letters.

But I've got to say, I severely underestimated two things regarding child sponsorship:

The first is how big a difference that $35 a month makes, not only for the child, but for their entire family. We visited two other sponsored children's homes before we visited Kevin. Each home was it's own trek off the main "road" (and yes, that term can only be used loosely) under laundry lines, through narrow corridors, through what I assume were small urine rivers. One family had clearly borrowed furniture for the occassion, assembling a few chairs in a room not much bigger than my bathroom. Each of these children had been sponsored more recently than mine.

Kevin's house, by contrast, was conveniently located, clean and much larger -- you know, about the size of my living room, or something. They had couches that looked like they belonged there and when I got there, Kevin was taking a nap in a room that had an actual door to it, not just a flimsy curtain. The walls were bare, but at least there were windows to let light in, unlike the other homes we visited.

When I asked why Kevin's situation seemed so much better than the other families, I learned that because Kevin and his sister Vanessa have both been sponsored for a couple years, the entire family's standard of living has been raised. Two years ago, their home would likely have looked more like the other homes we visited.

Which I guess makes sense. By helping with some of Kevin's living expenses (school, some food, and minor medical care), that frees up money for the family to move into a house with windows and a door. In fact, it is uncommon for ANLM to try to get sponsors for all the children in a home: usually if one or two are sponsored, the family is able to provide adequately for the rest.

The second thing I underestimated is how much these kids love and depend on their sponsors. Of course, I felt the love from Kevin, his sister and his mom, but I was surprised by how much other kids would talk about their sponsors in conversation with me.

It wasn't uncommon to have random kids come up and ask if we knew Bill. Or Janice. Or whoever their sponsor was, from wherever in America they were from. And in the rare event that we actually did know their sponsor, the next question was, "When do you think they will come visit me?" These kids live for that possible day in the future when their sponsors will come visit them.

Sponsors aren't always aware of the difference they make in these children's lives, but the children sure are. I was able to sit down individually with most kids from the Orchards Home and pray with them for the specific things they wanted prayer for. One little girl's main concern in life really stood out to me: she wanted me to pray for her sponsors, that they would be healthy and have lots of money so that they could continue to sponsor her.

And those children, especially the street boys, who don't have sponsors have one dream in life: finding one. I can't tell you how many times we in the group prayed with someone who asked that we would pray for a sponsor for them.

I guess I wanted to share these things because I wanted those of you who sponsor kids to know you mean the world to them and that you are having a life-changing impact on them and their entire family. That $35 each month you're sending over is so totally worth it.

And to those that don't sponsor kids, can I politely ask that you consider it? I realize for most people this is hardly the time to add another monthly expenditure. It might be that sponsorship is impossible for you right now, or maybe God has laid other things on your heart. But if sponsorship is something you've thought about, that you could maybe squeeze into the budget, head over to ANLM's Sponsorship page and take the plunge. And if you don't see a kid you like, email Brooke at children@africanewlife.org -- they don't always get around to posting profiles right away.

Thanks for listening.

Rwanda 09 | Michel

2009-07-10T18:37:00.000-07:00

My dad has done some international travel. But just so you, if you ask him about his experiences and get him started on it, chances are you'll be going to bed a couple hours later than you anticipated.

We, of course, don't give him a hard time about this or anything.

A week after I headed to Rwanda, my sister Kaylee was headed to Mexico and we decided to try our best to get some "transportation" stories to rival my dad's, particularly the person-next-to-you-on-the-airplane stories. "Travel Story Olympics" is what I think the official title of the competition will be. Whenever we have it, because we haven't even though we're back and we've all spent time together. (Which is probably just as well -- my dad has some good stories.)

But if/when it does happen, this will be my person-on-the-airplane entry:

We boarded the plane to Kigali. I was a ways past gross at this point in my travels, and much farther than that beyond excited. Finally, actually, for REALS, I was going to be in RWANDA! I had even scored a window seat.

Unfortunately, it wasn't any of my team members who sat next to me, but an African man. One that didn't seem too excited to sit by a stinky white lady, or at least, that's how I interpretted his lack of conversation.

Eventually, though we did start talking, because if we hadn't there wouldn't be much a story now, would there? And do you know, it turned out that immediately we found we had something in common: our names! Yeah. Would not have pegged a tall, nicely dressed Rwandan man to be a Michel, but what do I know.

And it turns out that Michel was the Children's Public Health Director in Rwanda. He was on the way back from a conference in Nairobi.

When you're sitting next to somebody like that inevitably you think of a lot of questions, most of which make you sound stupid and uninformed. So naturally, I asked what currently is the biggest children's health issue they're dealing with right now.

He laughed and said there was lots to choose from, but then he surprised me by answering, in a more serious tone, that the big issue they're working on right now is family planning. I would've guessed malaria, AIDS or malnutrition, but no, he said while all of these things are problems, they are problems that are on the decline, ones where progress is being made. Not so in the area of family planning.

According to Michel, the two main hurdles are education about family planning options and changing people's mindsets. Many of Rwanda's adults are basically uneducated: they know what makes babies, but they have no idea what can be done -- apart from abstinence -- to NOT make babies. They look at families that have only two or three children and enviously ask how on earth that could be accomplished. Vasectomies? Mostly unheard of, but in high demand when the word finally gets out.

Mindsets also need to change. Michel said people need to learn to take responsibility for their actions, instead of just letting life happen and hope everyone will be OK. Planning for the future, instead of considering only the more pressing immediate issues, is also something that will take time for people to change.

Michel isn't down on babies -- he has three kids of his own with his wife who is also a doctor. But when families are unable to care for the children they have, it drains everyone's resources and the general health level remains low.

We also talked about AIDS. It's still a problem, of course, but the rate of infection is dropping and much is being done to provide medicine for those already infected. Interestingly enough, he credits former President George W. Bush with having a huge role in turning the tide of AIDS in Rwanda.

I wondered about malaria, why we as Americans have to take $150 worth of medication to prevent getting it when most Africans wouldn't consider doing that, even if they could afford it. It turns out they have a natural immunity built up. And actually, they do get malaria with some frequency, maybe once every 1-5 years.

Also, I would like to announce that together we solved TWO major world health problems concerning children. One is that children in Rwanda are starving, often experiencing insufficient growth rates. The other is that children in America are obese, putting them at risk for heart and other health problems. So I suggested that we institute a program where we ship all of America's obese children to Rwanda and all of Rwanda's malnourished to America. Michel laughed. In agreement, I assume. I tell you, I don't know why people don't ask me for advice on more things.

Rwanda 09 | Sanyu

2009-07-09T13:28:00.000-07:00

I saw Sanyu's sweet, gentle smile before I even set foot in Rwanda. And after seeing her picture and learning she would be cooking for us, I knew there was a good possibility she's be one of the sisters I'd be missing when I got home.

Our first couple days were pretty packed, but there was one evening we had about an hour to unwind before dinner. The internet was down. Again. So I wandered to where most of us wander when we're bored and hungry: the kitchen.

Sanyu was beginning to chop some vegetables, so I asked if I could help. I think I just wanted a little "normal" in my life at that point, but God knew I needed a little more.

Sanyu has a quiet, unassuming, gentle spirit, and is the kind of person you immediately feel at home around. She is thoughtful -- taking time to show me the ingredients and amounts she used in the meal she was preparing, answering my questions without going on and on about herself, showing interest in my life, and translating the little jokes she and the other guesthouse staff would share in kinyarwandan.

But Sanyu was unique from the other Rwandan women I met: she is a single mother who was never married. Here, that status is not uncommon and rarely interferes with social or personal goals...in Rwanda, however, that is not the case.

I already mentioned what I know of Sanyu's childhood, where she ate only milk until the age of 10. I know that she didn't learn any cooking skills from home, but attended a cooking school in Kigali and did very well, working in a couple different restaurants before becoming employed at the guesthouse.

From what I can gather, it was around the time she was attending this cooking school that she became pregnant. It was not appropriate for me to ask for the details of her story, but she did show me a picture of her son's father which leads me to assume there was at least some kind of relationship.

Her son, Granar -- or Ga-Ga, as she calls him -- is almost three. I gather that he is a playful child; his pictures feature a mischievous smile and Sanyu complained -- with a smile -- that his happy shrieks at home sometimes give her a headache.

Ga-Ga is a joy to Sanyu, but he is also a source of concern. When I asked, Sanyu explained that while she is at work, her mom or sister or helper -- all of whom live with her -- watch her little boy. I innocently, perhaps stupidly, commented that it was nice to at least have family that can be with him. Her eyes filled with sadness and her face became serious and she confessed that she often fears for Ga-Ga's safety. I worry about him all the time and always pray that he will be OK, she said. I gathered that this goes beyond a general motherly concern, that probably she has a legitimate reason to worry. But what can she do? She has to make a living and has few options.

The day I had my baking adventures, I got to accompany Sanyu to the local market where she make a couple personal purchases, as well as the food needed for our dinner that night. What a treat to watch her. She walked -- simultaneously nonchalant and focused -- through the aisles and noises to the stalls she frequents. At one stall, the woman was asleep on the job and without hesitation, Sanyu roused her so she could purchase papayas for the next morning's breakfast. The "bag boy" followed, sometimes close, sometimes at a distance, collecting the items he would be paid to deliver to the guesthouse himself.

Ga-Ga had been unwell for most of the time we had been there. Sanyu had told us that his eyes were red and that he had a flu. She expressed a desire to take him to the hospital to be checked by a doctor, but that she was waiting to be paid so she could do that. I may have misheard her, but it seems like a simple doctor visit cost around $5, or about 2 days wages for her. That seems like a minimal amount, but when 70% of your income goes to rent and you only make $2-3, $5 is something more than a good deal on lunch.

On the way to the market I asked Sanyu how her son was doing, hoping by then that perhaps things had cleared up or that she'd been able to take him in. Instead, she told me that her helper had taken him to the hospital that day. Oh, and how is he?, I asked. I don't know yet, she said. I need to buy more minutes for my phone so I can call and find out. A few minutes later, she bought some at the market, and called. Ga-Ga was going to be OK: they'd given him medicine for his eyes and antibiotics for the cough he had developed.

I was kinda floored by how calm she appeared through the whole thing. I think perhaps there was lots going on that I couldn't see, but Sanyu carries herself with an amazing strength and dignity. But as a mother, I know there had to be a pain in her heart having a sick son that she had to place in another person's care. I know there has to be pain knowing this won't be the last time there isn't enough, that she will again wish there were more minutes or more money or more of herself for her little boy.

I find it interesting that the two women I most connected with, Confidence and Sanyu, are the same age but represent vastly different lives and futures. Confidence has the world ahead of her. I don't know that the same is true for Sanyu. She is equally talented and intelligent and hard-working, but life circumstances have changed what otherwise might have been available to her. Single moms are unlikely candidates for marriage and there is a limit to what most people would pay a cook, even a great one like Sanyu.

God used Sanyu to bless my time in Rwanda. She taught me how to make matoke, I taught her how to make chocolate chip cookies, she helped me get plants and chocolate, I gave her a bottle of my aromatherapy cough medicine concoction. Her story breaks me in all kinds of ways, but somehow I feel more whole as a result.

Rwanda 09 | Confidence

2009-07-08T12:10:00.001-07:00

Last summer, as the Orchards Home was filling up with kids, my heart was drawn to the woman who would be taking care of all 16 them. I began praying for whoever this woman was, or would be, because if I had 16 kids to take care of, I would be on the brink of insanity or depression most of the time and would want someone praying for me.

It wasn't until the winter that we got a name and picture of who the house mother -- or auntie, as they call her -- was: Confidence. I think you need a name like that if you're going to take care of 16 children. A month or two before I was actually considering going to Rwanda, I wrote Confidence a letter to tell her she was on my heart and in my prayers and that one day I hoped I would be able to come meet her.

That day came sooner than I imagined.

Meeting her was like greeting a close family member after a long separation. She was younger than I thought she'd be -- 26 years old -- and quickly we found that we both love to cook and garden. She is quick to laugh and joke. Her decorating skills exceed mine, as does her sense of fashion -- she offered to hook me up with her seamstress, which I'm sure would've happened if I'd have had a few more hours in Kayonza.

Like much of the Kayonza staff, Confidence was born in Uganda. Her family fled Rwanda during the political turmoil during the 1960's. Her parents live there, as well as a sister -- whose 13-ish year old daughter now lives in the Orchards Home with her, since her sister isn't able to take care of her.

Confidence is well loved at Kayonza: she's young, fun, beautiful, hard-working, smart -- and whenever I'd mention her, people would tell me what a great cook she is. My guess is that there's more than a few young men who have their eyes on her for a future relationship.

Here's what Confidence's day looks like: At 5 am, the smallest children in the home wake up eagar to start the day. I guess kids are the same all around the world. Their caregivers are the same too, because Confidence tries her best to get them back in bed for at least another hour. There are about six children to a room in the home, so I can't imagine her attempts are very effective.

After they are dressed and cleaned up for the day and have had breakfast at the dining hall, the children go to school (just feet away from the home) at 8 am and Confidence heads to her office. Because she is the bookkeeper for the entire school. At 4 pm she heads back to the home to be with the kids, they eat dinner at 6 pm, and after dinner most of the kids go back to classrooms to study. Then she helps them clean and get ready for the next day and they're in bed by 8 pm.

Just thinking through that schedule exhausts me.

And did I mention that she's 26? And doesn't have kids of her own? And now she has this role of a single working mother? To 16 children, all of whom come from tragic enough home situations that they've been placed in this home?

Confidence is clearly very smart and very capable. She would like to go to university; she has only taken bookkeeping classes and would like to get her degree. Right now, there's no time and no money, but she's hopeful that in the future, that will change.

I can see so much good ahead for Confidence; I know very little about her past, but I just know that life will just keep getting better and better for her. I think she knows this too. There is a spark of joy and lightness in her eyes, a laugh that tells me that she believes that whatever obstacles she faces will be overcome.

Just as her name implies, Confidence embodies what I saw time and again in Rwanda's beautiful people: hope. Whatever daily challenges they face, they know God is alive and moving in their life and in their country and they know the best in yet to come.

Rwanda 09 | Food

2009-07-07T12:46:00.000-07:00

As you know, food is near and dear to my heart. So naturally, it was one of the aspects of Rwandan life I was most curious about.

For some time now I've been curious what the average poor Rwandan -- afterall, the average Rwandan lives below the country's poverty line -- eats in a day. Those kinds of specifics are easier for me to relate to than "they go to bed hungry" or "they have a very bland, simple diet".

So here it is:

On average, if you are poor in Rwanda, once a day you will eat a plateful of beans and a starch -- either potatoes (regular or sweet), green plantains (that cook up and taste similar to potatoes), or a maize flour bread. Those with a little extra will get maize flour porridge for breakfast, which has a flavor and consistency similar to Cream of Wheat. According to what I was told, a small family can get by on this kind of a diet for around 50 cents a day.

Most of my information on this came from Sanyu, the head cook at the guesthouse we stayed at. And she should know. She grew up with her family out in a village where her father raised cows. I asked her where she learned to cook, if she had learned to cook at home. She laughed. No, she said, she didn't eat food until she was 10. I thought I had misheard her, but she explained: her father raised dairy cows and they only drank milk. She had actual food for the first time when she was 10. I believe this age coincides with the genocide. I did not find out how that affected her family situation and therefore, diet, but I'm certain it did.

Beans are extremely nutritious -- how else do you explain their bland flavor and rough texture? -- but none of the starch options the average poor consume have much of any nutritional value. Sanyu explained that there are many inexpensive foods available: eggs, spinach, cabbage and other greens, but that these foods are not used because people do not know to use them. Sanyu threw out how affordable it would be to buy an egg for each of your children once a week, but that it is not generally done because it isn't what has always been done.

Meat is rarely consumed. The children in the orphanages in Kayonza -- living at what seems to be a lower-middle class level -- used to only eat meat once every 2-3 months. They are excited because now they get to eat it once a month. The price of meat in Rwanda seems to be comparable to a sale price in the US: you can get ground beef for around $2/lb, whole chicken and beef cuts are closer to $3.50/lb.

Fruit is comparatively expensive, and is consumed primarily by babies and small children. I bought some mangoes while I was there, and the cost was around $1/lb. (And can I say, in my opinion, it is worth every blessed cent? I would pay four times the price to acquire fruit so tasty here in the US.)

Packaged or imported foods are very expensive. Anything imported to Rwanda gets a 70% tax added on: which is why a 6 cup can of oatmeal costs $4. So I guess that makes most of the Rwandan population "locavores", probably more so than the trendiest American locavore.

When you think of Africa, you think of starving people, so I thought I was pretty aware of the food situation. But after spending a few days there, it was obvious that their diet is on a whole different level than what I had really understood.

This was made very real to me one night when I was making playdough. The next day we were having a party for the kids in the Orchards Home, and I had brought supplies to make playdough, thinking it was a simple toy they'd enjoy.

So I went into the kitchen and started mixing the flour and oil and water and salt. Teo, one of the Rwandan staff, asked me what I was cooking. I tried to explain I was making playdough. And suddenly the whole thing felt absurd. Here I was turning perfectly good food into an inedible substance to play with.

Teo has a wife and child that live outside Kigali in a village. The only way he can support them is by working in Kigali and visiting for the weekend every six weeks.

So juxtapose that against lime green playdough and then try making sense of the world.

But, I gotta tell you, I made more than just playdough in that kitchen. I went in and "helped Sanyu" a few times (translation: got myself some food-preparation therapy -- I'm a happier lady with a knife in one hand and vegetable in the other -- and covertly acquired some new recipes) and then the last full day we were there, I got busy with my own creations.

See, part way through, I got wondering if you could bake with mangoes and tried to talk some of the other women into doing some experimental baking. There was mild interest, but the last day when all of them went to a party with some university women, I went to the local outdoor market and got some mangoes.

And a few hours later, the best crisp I had ever eaten came out of the oven. I'm telling you, mangoes just might be even better baked than they are fresh. Teammates were asking for the recipe -- I told them the secret ingredient was Rwandan mangoes, which they'd never get their hands on in the US anyway.

Additionally, I felt it was appropriate for me to make chocolate chip cookies.

Chocolate chips can't be found in Rwanda, and I wasn't having any luck finding any chocolate bars either. Until I accompanied Sanyu to the "supermarket" (picture a store about the size of my living room filled with packaged items and meat that wasn't covered in flies). The store owners were amused by the muzungu in their store. So I asked if they had chocolate. They had small Cadbury milk chocolate bars. I took it as God's gracious provision and spent $4 and got me enough chocolate to make a cup of "chocolate chips".

I went back to the guesthouse kitchen and went to town, trying to remember the most recent fat:sugar:flour proportions I'd been using in my cookies. I mixed a little Blue Band (a type of margarine, and generally the only baking fat that is used) and some sugar (only raw is available, which has a molasses-y flavor) and some flour and my "chocolate chips". And out came some sweet little cookies. I got two kisses that night from my teammates (OK, they were both on the cheek from the same exhuberant woman).

(That's me with Jean Claude and Emma and Sanyu. Jean Claude and Emma help Sanyu in the kitchen. When I was mixing up my cookies, Emma was mixing up banana bread. Which shocked me because Rwandan men do NOT cook. I told him how impressed I was and he grinned and said he was learning so that he could cook for the wife he will have someday. I am so sending my sisters to Rwanda to meet him.)

So this trip definitely filled the food curiousity and experiences tank. No doubt I'll be wanting more down the road, but I am so grateful to have been able to learn and enjoy so much while I was there. God is so good. Food stuff like this seems so trivial, and yet, God allowed me to make chocolate chip cookies in Rwanda and to see just how simple the Rwandan diet really is. Just amazing...

Rwanda 09 | Kageyo

2009-07-06T12:48:00.000-07:00

I know. I already wrote about Rwanda and you already read about it. But, if you can believe it, I have more to say. I "took notes" more than I journaled while in Rwanda, plus I have a really slow processing speed (what can I say, I was built in the 80's), so any readers who can make it through however many posts this takes are my lucky victims. Which is to say, you have been fairly warned.

There is a lot of beauty in Rwanda and there is a lot of pain. It is visible on people's faces, both the pain and the beauty, the hope and the despair. Most of the time, you can see both.

But nowhere was the pain more visible to me than in Kageyo. Kageyo is located about 2 1/2 hours from Kigali, on the edge of the Akegera Game park. It is in the middle of nowhere. The only way to get there is on a rough dirt road.

About 4200 people live in Kageyo. It is made up of families who, in the 1960's fled Rwanda for Tanzania during political unrest that eventually led up to the genocide in 1994. These families settled there in Tanzania, buying land and building homes. Then, a couple years ago, the Tanzanian government forced these families to move back to Rwanda. There was no place for them to go, so Rwanda put them here in Kageyo. They were built small stucco-walled homes with tin roofs and a rainwater reclaimation system, a small school and clinic.

And now, two year later, that's all they have. No wells, no industry, no means of income, no food assistance.

This is their water source:

It's the same pond that the hippos were in that were pictured on the Rwanda 09 blog. So people walk for a couple miles with empty containers, collect this water, and walk back a couple miles with 38 pounds of water and approximately 2 pounds of mud and poop and exciting microscopic creatures. And then they drink it and bathe in it and wash their clothes with it.

Africa New Life Ministries is the only organization that has been asked by the Rwandan government to assist with the development that needs to take place in Kageyo.

ANLM's goal is to build four wells for each of the four districts, at approximately $14-18,000 per well. They are already looking for sponsors for each of the 1000 children that lives out there, and plans to run the school and develop the same high level of education they currently are providing to the children living in Kayonza, 1 hour closer to Kigali on the same road. (As a note, if you want to sponsor one of these kids for $35/month, click on the Sponsor a Child link in the right-hand column.) Also, there is no church in Kageyo, so that is another high priority for ANLM.

Our group's "task" in Kageyo was to distribute maize flour -- a cheap, gut-filling-but-nutritionally-weak staple -- to each of the families living in the settlement. Beyond what they can grow themselves, the only food they receive is from the ANLM missions teams that visit a few times a year.

Leaders from the four districts organized how much each family got: two 2-cup scoops of maize flour per person. One by one, a representative from each family would come with whatever container they had -- a bag, a water bucket -- and humbly receive what we gave them.

Frankly, it felt terrible. There were two older men who were assisting me, helping me communicate with those that came through the line and bring over more sacks of flour as they were emptied. They patiently waited for their turn in line and I could tell that they were smart, hard-working men of character. And here they are put in the desperate and humiliating position of having to receive corn flour from a young American woman.

I'm glad we gave them what we did, it was needed and appreciated. And I don't think there was anything wrong with the tone or method in which we gave. But I felt like we fed their bellies and left their souls to starve.

The eyes in Kageyo were the most desperate I saw. There was a meanness of spirit present, which apart from God's grace, is what happens to people who are trying hard to not die. I could see hope in the eyes of most of the adults I saw in Rwanda...but I could not find it here in Kageyo, except in the children.

Perhaps the most poignant moment of my whole time in Rwanda came shortly before we left Kageyo. A young Rwandan man named David had served as a translator for the distribution station I was at, and afterwards, we talked and he helped me interact with some of the adults who had stayed behind.

A woman in a green dress who, just two weeks before had borne twins, came up to David with something to say to me, and David passed it on: "She wants you to tell a joke," he said. I was thrown off and scrambling to think of a joke that could be translated when David continued, "She wants to hear a joke because life here is so hard that we never laugh anymore. There is nothing that makes us smile."

How's that for pressure? I can't remember how I responded, mostly I was just reeling from the whole thing. I think I was being called to load up into the van and didn't say much.

I left that woman there in Kageyo without a joke, but her request hasn't left my heart. If I am ever so lucky to return to Kageyo someday, I am going to distribute jokes in addition to food. I am going to bring music and a feast and dancing. Maybe I'll hire a Rwandan comedian. We are going to distribute joy all day long and then I am bringing a projector and a generator and a bedsheet and we are going to watch cartoons when it gets dark.

I may never go back to Kageyo though. But I know how to stand with those people in prayer. I am praying that they will get clean water, that they will find Living Water, and that someday soon, the sound of laughter will spill out of their doors and windows, giving glory to the One who does immeasurably more than we can ask or imagine.

A few other images from Kageyo....here, we are playing with the kids and you can see the small school in the background:

Here's the truck with the sacks of flour. Of course, the sacks were just as valuable as the food contained in them and it was interesting to see the various tactics employed to acquire one. The medical clinic is pictured in the background.

This is the labor ward. Can you even imagine?

And here's the pharmacy, with its limited supply of medicines. Interestingly enough, do you see that big box on the floor by the back wall? The one that is about four times as big as all the other boxes? That would Depo-Provera, injection birth control. Because apparently seeing that labor ward isn't effective enough. In all honesty though, being able to distribute that is going to have as positive effect on everyone's health as anything...

just a little more of my heart, planted in Rwanda's soil

2009-06-30T08:52:00.000-07:00

Oh, today, today was good. ANLM arranged to have a groundbreaking ceremony out at Kayonza where my aunt's trust fund is building housing for kids who used to live on the street. It was such a beautiful ceremony. I'll write more later, but here at the pictures:

Here are some of the kids who will be in the home:

The boys, laying the first bricks of the home:

And me, with the boys...

Charles speaking, Fred translating...

Singing before the ceremony:

The first six bricks...

prepping for the nursery visit...

2009-06-29T23:15:00.000-07:00

Very excited because in a few minutes, I'm headed to a Rwandan nursery. To buy a plant. To give to my new Rwandan sister, Confidence. So we'll see how that goes. Since I'm going with someone who doesn't speak great English. And so far I've learned two words while here: subyo? (understand?) and seca! (smile!), which I doubt will be of much use in this endeavor.

Anyway, here are some pictures of plants on the grounds of the guesthouse we are staying at -- some I recognize, but most are varieties I'm totally unfamiliar with. If anyone wants to play Name That Plant, go right ahead...

a quick note from Rwanda

2009-06-28T08:37:00.000-07:00

I thought I'd write a quick note here to say that I'm having the time of my life here in Rwanda. Of course, more will be posted later, but I have just a second to say things are good and post these pictures of our sponsored child, Kevin, for my kids:

Here he is w/ his sister Vanessa...

I made a video of the kids to show Kevin -- kinda a way to bring them their without all the work -- so we enjoyed that.

I love this picture of his mom -- what a sweet and beautiful lady!

what will probably be the last post for a while...

2009-06-18T08:50:00.000-07:00

So I'm in Portland. At Charity's house, with Jackie O sitting at my feet (her dog, not the deceased Kennedy). I had a nice trip over and a great time with my wonderful friend last night, but to be honest, when I'm sitting on the couch alone in the room, I feel like a mess. I miss my family and everything feels surreal, like my brain and heart left my body to fend for itself. I think maybe they'll catch up once we're in Rwanda a couple days. I hope. If you've traveled...and probably even if you've not...you understand. Still, I'm excited for what is happening, for what is to come...

And you can follow the fun at http://rwanda09.blogspot.com/

let's play Opposite World

2009-06-11T21:16:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, are you surprised by how little you know? I am. That's because I don't know a lot, but I think I do. So I'm always learning all these things I'm shocked to find I didn't know before. It's an exciting life, believe me.

Anyway, so I read this book called African Friends and Money Matters by David Maranz. And I was shocked because it reveals African culture at such a basic level, and yet it's all new information to me. An educated person. Who knows Actual Africans and has an interest in Africa.

Then I got mad at everyone because they kept it secret until now. It makes me want to teach a class called Stuff All the Other Classes Forgot To Tell You. It would be a reeeeaaaally long class, though, I guess.

Anyway, this would be one section of the class: the common African approach to money and relationships. And here are some things from the book that I would pass on. Some of the way I phrase this may come off as anti-African -- it is not intended to be. Of course, they do things we wouldn't do, but seen in context, it seems these practices make sense. On a basic level, to understand Africa, you play Opposite World. However it is here, it is the opposite there....

Africans are materially simple and socially complex
it is a giving society where, if I ask you for something that you have, you must give it to me. This is the "social security" system where loans/gifts to someone else are viewed as an "investment" that can be collected upon in the future when there is need. This system has evolved out of the continent's historical and political situations.
microsolutions vs. macrosolutions: in the US, we look to the gov't, or other larger organization, to meet needs and solve problems and create efficient systems. It's what works. In Africa, people look to individuals and meet immediate needs and find temporary solutions. It's what works. Likewise, we seek credit from large impersonal sources...Africans from small, personal sources.
financial action is based on timing, not importance, so that, if Joe comes to you and asks for money so his cousin can go to a family celebration, and rent is due tomorrow and you don't have funds for both....you give Joe the money. Tomorrow you will ask another friend for money for your rent.
resources are used, not hoarded -- anything that is not being used (food, bicycle, tools, etc.) is considered available for use, which means people spend money quickly so it is not available to be borrowed when someone asks...it means people buy expensive individual items, rather than cheaper ones in bulk because that extra stuff will be given away...so there is little means to save money, or budget...and little motivation to get a "save" on expenses since extra will be given away anyways
precision in accounting is avoided...it is not seen as generous and, when required, reflects a distrust of the individual
there is an emphasis on the group and equality...if someone emerges as a leader or tries to get ahead, they become a target. Merit is not simply ignored, it is penalized.
a network of friends is a network of resources: in the US, if a friend asks for money, we are offended and distrust them...in Africa, that is largely the point of friendships, though they still include many of the same elements as what we'd define as a "normal friendship". To refuse resources or fail to be sensitive to needs is extremely offensive...do it to enough people and you'll be ostracized from the community. We distinguish between personal and business relationships, Africans don't.
Africans are hospitable -- personal, meeting immediate needs -- Americans are charitable -- give to an organization (impersonal) with an eye to meeting long term needs
use of indirect communication is normal -- a direct 'no' is deeply offensive, apologies or requests are made indirectly, directly confronting a situation is inappropriate and the passing of time is used to solve most problems
an unjust settlement in a situation is preferable to an offended party
America emphasizes the individual, their preferences and ability to achieve success...Africa emphasizes interdependency
many times money is used to build prestige, rather than provide for actual needs or to invest in long term economic development
Americans look for long-term solutions and results....Africans tend to look for short-term solutions and are pleased with short-term results
Americans are possessive of space and materials (require spacial privacy at times, take care of possessions) and Africans are possessive of knowledge and information -- they require psychological privacy and can be made uncomfortable when asked personal questions or questions about how they do things/what they know

That's a long list and just the beginning. Of course, these are generalizations, but a perspective to begin at and then adjust and fine-tune.

Micro-financing has be touted as the tool that will "save Africa". If what this books says is true...um...it won't be. There are programs that, I guess, work, but...getting an African to do things the Western way doesn't seem to make much sense. Nor does it seem possible. The systems have opposing values....

utuntu: little things

2009-06-11T20:02:00.000-07:00

We embody chaos these days around here, the kind and loopy variety, so I saw no reason why it shouldn't reflect here.

Everyone is asking me if I'm excited. I presume they're referring to Rwanda when they say that. I don't know what comes out my mouth most the time, but -- my 'm' is sticking, I hate that -- excited really isn't the word. I think it likely that I'm experiencing the same emotions as someone who is poised to jump at the local Bungee-Jump-O-Rama, which as close as I can come to expressing is "I hope I don't mess my pants." (And yes, I did pack medication for that, since I hear there can be problems that way for people travelling to Africa.)

So now you can ask me that question and have a nice mental picture to accompany whatever I say.

Can I interrupt myself and say that I finally finished installing the garden beds? Finally got my husband into the beds with me. (At least it wasn't the title, ok?) He built them (so they wouldn't fall apart upon placement) and I dug out where they were to go. Which was NOT a small matter, since a huge tree stump was right in the way. After a few swings of the ax and visions of a bloody half foot, I concluded our best option was to alter the bed design to accomodate the stump. It's a far cry yet from the lusious Garden of Eatin' I envisioned, but...we're on our way...

Anyway, so I made some gifts to take to Rwanda that I want to show off:

First, I made a couple more of those bags. The second one I did this round has been my favorite so far in terms of colors and craftsmanship. (Gosh, do I ever hope that whoever gets Bag #1 does not know how to sew. Or is partly blind.) But here is Bag #2, in its rusty-orange, yellow, brown glory:

And also, I stitched me up some baby blankets for a shower we're having over there for the woman who has headed up child sponsorships for a long time. I realize sewing straight lines isn't something to get all excited about -- for most people -- but we celebrate the small things here.

And then some t-shirts are being printed up for the kids in the children's home our church sponsors that should, hopefully, look something like this. It features the church logo, which I designed, and...um...Photoshop brushes...which I figured out two hours before a t-shirt design was due, so, um, here's to chaos, right? It'll pass for American, so I think we'll be OK. Plus, if pressed, I could come up with metaphors for each element. That's what an English/Art degree will do for you, if nothing else.

And I'm assembling entertainment for the 70-some hours I will be in transit beginning next Wednesday. Mostly on the iPod because it's very light and portable. I've got a couple sermons on generosity (courtesy Mark Driscoll), free lectures from Reformed Theological Seminary (selected for its 'free' rather than 'reformed' qualities), recent episodes of This American Life, kinyarwanda audio lessons, and I'll need a couple audiobooks. Some I can check out for free at the library, like Ladies No. 1 Detective Agency. Also considering The Road, Anna Karina...could even give Twlight a shot if I found it for free. Nothing like a little diversity for every mood, right? Suggestions are welcome.

And what am I most excited about? Being with people I already know, like the Hindurwa guys...meeting people over there that I already love, like Kevin and his family, Isaac, Jonah...meeting people I don't know, but will miss when I'm back home. I'm excited to see the former street kids my aunt's estate is building a home for -- perhaps even get to watch the groundbreaking on that project! I'm excited to eat a real mango and drink Rwandan cyayi (tea). I'm excited to go to a Hindurwa concert, I've been promised a front row seat (which is, I believe, so that everyone can laugh at the white lady trying to dance should the concert experience a slight lull). I'm excited to find out what I'll bring back, if life will be any different after.

And what I'm terrified about? Everything else. I so appreciate the prayers. My kids and husband and mom and other extended family do too, since they'll have their share of work at home. I am not a worrier, but I've had my moments the last couple weeks. God has been good to remind me that He is Good and Generous and I can rest in that, whatever happens.