Friday, 30 December 2005

happy new year from the jones family.


a few days ago, seth introduced me to this man. since becoming a widow when cs lewis died, i've been closed off to romantic love.
until now. i'd like you all to meet the new love of my life, mr. indiana jones.
the coolest part is that he folds up and fits in my luggage that is flying to South Africa in about 5 weeks.

So, what do you think? Karla says we look good together. I think I agree.

Monday, 26 December 2005

hand the man his shades.

I find it to be no small thing that all of the following 3 people are Irish in descent:
1. CS Lewis
2. Bono
3. Ashley Lovell
Hear me now--I do not AT ALL place myself on some hierarchy of talent and fame beside these people. I am the one running the cotton candy machine at their theme parks. I am the face-painted fan at their concerts. I am the one who kinda wants to be a librarian so I can have access to more information about them. I am not like them at all.

Now, that being said, what the crap--we are all Irish? (Not to mention Damien Rice, who actually has relevancy to this story.)

So my incredibly cool mother stuffed my stocking with the latest TIME Magazine.


I know Bono is cool, and U2 is an amazing rock band, and I'm one of the many who claim some special connection with them. But there has been this book at Border's that I've wanted for like 6 months now, an in depth interview between Bono and Michka Assayas. My super cool mom ALSO got me this book for Christmas! So, tonight I am reading the magazine and finding Bono to be someone I need to be paying more attention to, because he loves Africa. There is a picture in the article of him hugging Nelson Mandela that I'd pay some serious money to have blown up and hung in my bedroom.
Anyways, I'm just saying that all the inspirational famous men in my life are Irish. And U2's song "walk on"?---it's about The Lady of Burma...the one Damien Rice wrote "Unplayed Piano" for. Tell me you see the significance of this! It's like this summer when I found out Ghandi spent 22 years in South Africa. All these worlds collide!

The following quotes should interest you:
""The key to some extent is faith," says Mike Gerson, the President's assistant for policy and strategic planning. Gerson and Budget Director Josh Bolten are evangelical Christians who believe there's a biblical imperative to help the world's poor."

Bono--"I try to live (my faith) rather than talk about it because there are enough secondhand-car salesman for God. But I cannot escape my conviction that God is interested in the progress of mankind, individually and collectively."

Go read the article. I feel like a 5th grader trying to be cool by promoting Bono. He's just a reason to exhale for people like me who still hopefully hold their breath when it comes to a worldwide apathy to genocide & lethargic governmental responses to 3rd world plights: disease and death, poverty, and human rights.

Sunday, 25 December 2005

pronto viene, Jesus Cristo.

He who testifies to these things says, "Yes, I am coming soon."
Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.
Revelation 22:20


Lord Jesus Christ, Help us not to fall in love with the night that covers us but through the darkness to watch for you as well as to work for you; to dream and hunger in the dark for the light of you. Help us to know that the madness of God is saner than men and that nothing that God has wrought in this world was ever possible.
Give us back the great hope again that the future is yours, that not even the world can hide you from us forever, that at the end the One who came will come back in power to work joy in us stronger even than death. Amen.(the hungering dark, frederick buechner)

oh! the suffering in my heart. would you, god, if you are there and if you are god, would you come. come now and bring the hope you promised. oh, that the darkness would open itself like a curtain, and that the glorious light of our hope would shine through.
how long will we wait for you, oh god? how long will anger and hurt and self-loathing and failure and defeat and hopelessness and despair and loss be the fodder upon which we tired and hungry beasts must feed? how long till our eyes do not behold the suffering near and far, our ears do not retain the painful gasps of a world writhing and cowering under the blows of our enemy's club?
silence will surely befall us, and quiet will surround us, and our heads will tilt backwards and our eyes will look into the sky and find you. find you coming in all your glory. the curtain will surely be drawn back and your truth will be revealed. upon this we surrender our ways, within this we invest our talents, from this we draw our hope, because of this we give our lives.
come, lord jesus.

Friday, 23 December 2005

all this time it's like god was trying to tell me that the shadows on the wall were not what was real.

"these things -- the beauty, the memory of our own past -- are good images of what we really desire: but if they are mistaken for the thing itself they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshippers. for they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we hve not heard, news from a country we have never visited."--cs lewis

i really enjoy plato. maybe i'm a mainstream fan of the obvious, but i really like his writings. in particular, i was really moved by Plato's "The Allegory of the Cave when I read it in Burma a few years ago.
"Last of all he will be able to see the sun, and not mere reflections of him in the water, but he will see him in his own proper place, and not in another; and he will contemplate him as he is."

I didn't realize just how greatly both of these men, in the quotes above, are describing something god as been saying to me my whole life.

"now we see only puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we shall see face to face. my knowledge now is partial; then it will be whole. like God's knowledge of me." 1corinthians13.12

Thursday, 22 December 2005

and arley is 22 now...

this is arley. as a zombie.


this is arley's art. (www.noiseboxmedia.com)


this is arley. as a seamstress.


and this is arley's haunted art show.


i love this girl very much. because, through her, i see a new way of looking at the world in which we live. she brings opportunity in my life for me to feel many emotions to a fuller extent. she has something to give the world, something misunderstood by some, and treasured like a rare jewel by others.
me? i'm the one treasuring it like a jewel.

arley, i wanted you to have a really beautiful birthday. i hope that happened.

if god had a subtitle...

Monday, 19 December 2005

anticipation.

✠ A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse; from his roots a Branch will bear fruit.
The Spirit of the LORD will rest on him-- the spirit of and of understanding, the Spirit of counsel and of power, the Spirit of knowledge and of the fear of the LORD--
and he will delight in the fear of the LORD.
He will not judge by what he sees with his eyes,
or decide by what he hears with his ears;
but with righteousness he will judge the needy,
with justice he will give decisions for the poor of the earth.
He will strike the earth with the rod of his mouth; with the breath of his lips he will slay the wicked.
Righteousness will be his belt and faithfulness the sash around his waist.
The wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat,
the calf and the lion and the yearling together; and a little child will lead them.
The cow will feed with the bear, their young will lie down together, and the lion will eat straw like the ox.
The infant will play near the hole of the cobra, and the young child put his hand into the viper's nest.
They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain, for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea.
In that day the Root of Jesse will stand as a banner for the peoples; the nations will rally to him, and his place of rest will be glorious. ✠

"may the peoples praise you, o God; may all the peoples praise you." (ps 67.3)

Sunday, 18 December 2005

are you joking?

I really get to live here?

and, I really get to work for this man?

This is Pastor John Thomas, of Cape Town South Africa.
My first real encounter with John Thomas occured this past summer when he and his wife Avril were visiting church in America. He and I sat down for a long time and he shared about Living Hope with me. After we prayed and finished our discussion, he invited me to come and work in South Africa. At this time, I was going to Burma, but a few months later that all changed.
Now, this man has again invited me to South Africa, and I am leaving in Feburary. He is totally amazing.
Please listen to his radio interview with Jars of Clay. In this segment, he is explaining the recent connections established with President Bush and his administration. It's absolutely mind-blowing. And I have been given an opportunity by God to work under this man. I am so in awe of this whole thing.

To hear the full interveiw, visit THIS website.

ps--The United Human Rights Council has reorganized their website. It looks really good! I like the bright colors--it is much better than that old black and white they used to use. One needs bright colors when one is reading about mass murder and governmental denial of human rights violations. Take a read...

Saturday, 17 December 2005

a timely pilgrimmage.

This past week I spent an amazing 4 days with someone I've grown incredibly fond of, whose presence makes my moments of life more full of the richness found in real friendship. Amanda returned for a whirlwind visa run after having lived in Barcelona, Spain for nearly 6 weeks now.
Spending time with Amanda, as most all of you know, is one of the things I enjoy the most. I cannot recall a single time that we've been together when I didn't find an unforgettable memory in the making. We've gotten into lots of trouble together, but it's always been in good fun and with innocent intentions! Somehow, we just find adventure, and our recent time in Chicago didn't have an option of being any different.

For those of you who know nothing about me, one of the first things to know is that CS Lewis helped lead me to Christ, just as if he'd been alive, sitting there next to me on the plane to San Diego--the moment when I think I "believed God was God", as Lewis phrased it. I was reading Mere Christianity, after about....oh...7 years of sinful living with little proactive pursuit of God on my part. Having just been removed from a relationship gone bad which began five years earlier (judgement is lacking when one is intoxicated for years at a time), and having just graduated from college, I found myself all alone on a plane ride to a city where I knew one person, hoping to find escape from my pain.
And so, to make that long story short for all of you who know my verbose tendencies, I surrendered my life to Christ at the end of that trip to California: December 31st, 2002. Not a drop of former behavior (or substances symbolic of said behavior) has found its way into this jar of clay.

Coinciding with the recent release of Lewis' beloved classic onto the big screen, a certain fondness for my CS experienced revival. A few years back I made it a point to always be reading one Lewis book, amongst the 4 or 5 others I am usually tackling at once. Due to the backlog of suggested reading from friends, books bought for me to read from others, and my own personal reading list ever-growing and making itself more and more unattainable, I have reinstated this Loyal2Lewis rule, as I like to call it. I have begun with "CS Lewis: A Biography", published in 1990, written by A.N. Wilson.

It just so happens that, in the Acknowledgements section of this book, there is a hearty "Thank you" from Wilson to Wheaton College's Marion E. Wade Center, located in none other than "a suburb of Chicago". As I flew to O'Hare last Saturday, my eyes found this information quite "timely", and here the story continues...

What you are about to experience is a Chronicle of my pilgrimmage to the Marion E. Wade Center, documented in photo by my dearest Amanda. Join us in our journey to Wheaton, Illinois.


ashley, upon learning of the whereabouts of the original Lewis wardrobe, carved by grandfather Lewis for his 2 grandchildren--Jack and Warnie ashley, eating the bagel that nearly made us miss the train heading out of Union Station for Wheaton, Illinois. somewhere between this photo and the next, we entered our own narnia: the surrounding changed from tall buildings, brown and grey buildings, and factories on the outskirts of town to heavy woods laden with snow. for those of you who have seen the movie, you will appreciate the image of us on a train, traveling through a wood, to see a wardrobe
amanda's joy unleashed as we exited the train and began the part of our journey which required us walking through snow covered land
a brief glimpse into the side of amanda i find matched no where else
the entrance to wheaton college, home to alumni such as jim and elizabeth elliot, billy graham, and others who i don't know but i'm sure i'd like very much
i recognized the building from 2 blocks away. this is marion e wade center, where many precious pieces from the lives of CS Lewis, JRR Tolkien, George MacDonald, and others are kept
THE MOMENT: my first glimpse into the wardrobe lewis grew up writing stories about. on the door was a sign that read something like "we are not responsible for children lost in the wardrobe". i found this to be quite clever

the man of my dreams, receiving a kiss from one of his many fans

aslan sneaks up on amanda.

After receiving CPR due to the initial shock of such events, I enjoyed a quiet afternoon in the library where copies of all of Lewis' letters to his fans, family, and friends are transcribed and organized in a wall of 3-ring binders. Because I am a dork, and I know that in late September of 1931, Lewis had that late night dinner and conversation with Tolkien and Dyson, where he realized the imaginative component required to understand the "mythical story of Christianity" as the one myth that actually describes real events in history, and being challenged by Tolkien that to understand Christianity, one must exercise a keen imagination. I also know that 9 days later, Lewis, while on his way to the zoo with his brother Warnie, found that he did indeed believe in Christ ("when we set out I did not believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and when we reached the zoo I did"). Through this information, which completely exposes me as the supreme freak that I am (although I give you my word that I don't practice idol worship), I was able to find THE ORIGNIAL LETTER Lewis wrote to his best friend Arthur Greeves, tucked amongst about 79 other large black notebooks in the archive room of the library. Alongside my great friend, we jointly read the short but sweet version Lewis gives of these events.
How I held back tears was a gift from God, because he must know how hard it is to cry and read at the same time.

And so it is...

...I'm completely wacky.

Tuesday, 13 December 2005

chi-town and wardrobes

"It's a 106 miles to Chicago, we've got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes; it's dark and we're wearing sun glasses. Hit it!" --The Blues Brothers




Tomorrow: an "l" trip to Wheaton College's Marion E. Wade Center, where the original wardrobe from CS Lewis' "Little Lea" home is now on display.
What perfect timing God has, I must say! Just after viewing Narnia for the 3rd time!!!!

Sunday, 11 December 2005

Friday, 09 December 2005

I LOVE CS LEWIS.


Today is the best day I've had in a long time. I didn't realize how excited I really was about this movie coming out. I haven't allowed myself to view a single trailor, read a single article or newspaper, listen to a single commentary, or discuss the movie much at all. I spent most of the past few years knowing Narnia and knowing Lewis through his various writings.

The story is a long one...the story of Lewis and I. For me, Narnia is not about NARNIA...the books, the memories of childhood, or some attempt at liking a movie just because it's hyped up. Those things don't lead me to love this movie.
The reason I love Narnia is for Lewis, Aslan, Edmund, and Lucy. This man met me in December of 2002, as I was preparing to graduate college. I was on a 4 hour plane ride to San Diego, California when I fell in love with CS Lewis. I remember, I was sitting in the middle of the seats, unable and unwilling to get up. I was immersed in Mere Christianity. Next was A Grief Observed, as my roommates mother died. Then came the Chronicles, followed by Suprised by Joy and Screwtape Letters, The Great Divorce, the Problem of Pain, the Chronicles again, Mere Christianity again (and again a few more times). For about 5 months, all I read was Lewis. Ok, ALMOST all I read was Lewis! You all know me better than that.

And somewhere in that time, my life returned to Christ.When I think of my return to Jesus, CS Lewis is there. I know lots of people claim him and love him, but I am just another one of those people, I guess. This man helped me see Jesus again.

And when I think about Jesus, I cry with thanks and joy.
Today, I cried with thanks and joy. I saw the movie in a prerelease for EMI, the company who did Narnia's soundtrack. I was volunteering today at a Sweet Sleep benefit sponsored by EMI, and they offered us all free tickets for the 2:00 showing today.

A few moments later, my friend called to offer me 4:30 tickets to see it with Dave Ramsey's crowd, since they had rented a theatre. Thanks, Keith!

Tonight I am viewing the movie at the IMAX with church people. Thanks Amy-Jo and Jay!

Tomorrow night I am viewing it with Nicole for my Christmas gift!!! What a perfect gift to give! Thank you Nicole!

So, if you need me in the next 24 hours, check the theatre. I'm there for a while!

This blog really stinks, and I know it. I am so filled with thoughts that don't feel organized. I just had to say "I LOVE CS LEWIS" to the world, and this was the best way to do it. I'll write something more intelligent and thoughtful later.

Thanks for reading this. It was random and kinda pointless, but I really cannot explain to you why this is so significant. I tried telling the group I viewed the movie with today.

ok...more later.

Tuesday, 06 December 2005

the invasion of stevie nicks.


i am in this wierd StEvIe NiCkS wOrLd these days.
It started last week when I frantically searched for "The Dance" album in my old stack of cd's from my hippy days. Fleetwood Mac is up there in my top 5 favorite musical groups list. I heard one of their songs on the radio and immediately felt my ears being sucked into this place of hunger and craving for thier music.
It's been a week and I haven't listened to much else. I've started researching the band more, reading about Stevie, Stevie and Lindsey, and about the origin of some of their lyrics.
Rhiannon. Rhiannon has my attention.

I was driving to Jason's house the other day to show him all my photos from China, since he is now there helping Clay Crosse as he adopts a little chinese baby, Sophie May. (p.s.--she's the cutest thing ever!)
So I was driving to his house and track 4 started..."Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night, and wouldn't you love to love her?" On and on it went, strining along Stevie's deep, rhaspy voice..."She is like a cat in the dark and then she is your darkness"..."Would you stay if she promised you heaven"..."dreams unwind, love's a state of mind."
Ending with her famous petitions: "Take me now. Take me by the sky."

Something very specific came from God, to me, through Stevie. God spoke the finale of Truth to an issue I've been really struggling with since, well, forever that I can remember. I put the song on repeat and listened again...doing that thing where you try to catch every word in your heart and dig into it for a deeper significance, which never works because you either get caught on the first verse or you just get distracted, and so you start the song over, saying "Ok, quiet. You have to listen to the words."
I did this about 5 times.

And God spoke. He's doing that alot lately.

Like Mary, I hid his promise in my heart, I treasured what he said deep in my soul.

And yesterday a guy at work who I've been really feeling burdened for, a guy who wears his hurt on his sleeve and I ache when he aches, even though I never know what's really going on in his head--this guy and i were brewing coffee at 545 am. And "rhiannon" came on the speakers in the quiet of the morning. Inside, I smiled and thought to myself "This song = God's voice directed to me".
And my friend Chris, the guy at work, said EXACTLY what God had said to me about this song and it's significance in my life. EXACTLY. Like God spoke through his lips to my heart.

Stevie has changed me. This song has changed me. It's a greally good change.

God keeps me on my toes. Something I've wrestled with for a long time hit the mat in KO defeat through the inspiration experience by stevie nicks 30 years ago.

Saturday, 03 December 2005

Visit from the Moldovites.


Left to Right: Olga, Ash, Bill, Carol, Dorel, Jen Gash.

Olga and Dorel are from Moldova. They are vising America for a few months, attending many meetings related to Sweet Sleep and BCFS/CERI. Over half of the people in my life are connected to Moldova in some way, and we owe so much to Dorel and Olga. They are the hardest workers. They have constant needs to meet, because they are the only hands and feet of these american organizations in Moldova.

I hope you get the chance to meet Dorel and Olga one day, either in America or Moldova. Dorel is hilarious and Olga is sweet and gentle. I got to hang out alot with them, including Thanksgiving day when they tried sweet potato casserole for the first time! The day this photo was taken, I got to go to a Titans game with them and eat bbq! It was such a fun experience!!!

So, here they are, the moldovites you can only hope to be as cool as!

Friday, 02 December 2005

michelle, my friend, has risen today.

Today I had the awesome priveledge of spending 2 hours with my dear friend Michelle Kobosky.

And one reason I hate PC computers is because I am on one right now and am unable to drag a photo of happy michelle from her blog onto my own. My Mac would let me do this in a second.
Anyways, she's the happiest, smiliest, glowingist, most encouraging person I have ever known. And i really mean that. She speaks nothing but joy, even when in pain and isolation.

Today Michelle and I laid on her bed talking. This was the first time I have seen her with her jaws unwired, which happened on Tuesday. So, she's in lots of pain b/c the pain meds give her an allergic reaction, so she's only on Tylenol. But she's so glad to have freedom to move her mouth that she doesn't seem to mind the pain so much. She said the entire left side of her face is still numb, and watching her drink a "Boost" drink, I can testify to that!
Michelle would grab my hand and run it across the scars and bumps on her new face. "It's metal. All titanium.", she'd say as my hand timidly rubbed against her face. "Will they ever take it out?" I ask. Michelle's reply, with a hint of trauma unit attitude, "No, I have no face otherwise." Then she smiles and says "God gave me a new one."

We laughed about lots of things. We reminisced and we joked. We thought it was not coincidence that her sister was on the phone with someone in Africa while I was visiting today! She literally sat up in her bed and pumped her arms in excitement at my news about Cape Town. She said, "Finally, I have a reason to go to Africa. Marcie, I'm going to Africa!!!" Marcie, her twin sister, smiles and continues her own conversation.

As I laid there with Michelle, about a million thoughts raced through my head. At first I was afraid to say certain things, for this is definately the first conversation I have had with Michelle where I knew she was cognizant enough to really invest in our time together. And that intimadated me. What do you say to someone who has just had one of the closest brushes with death imaginable? All alone on that bike, in that Vandy life-flight helicopter, in those weeks of drugged incoherence and recovery, in those late night terrors and sweats, in the quiet of her mind as she begins to awaken from this horrid dream. What do you say? There was so much I wanted to ask, and looking into Michelle's wild eyes, I knew I could. I knew that no part of her story that she could remember would she keep to herself. It's too powerful to remain a secret. Michelle will speak this to the world, and God would have nothing less from her.

"It's been the scariest thing I've known, Ashley. Only recently do I remember things that happened since the accident. For weeks I have been like Lazarus. I've been dead. But God has been with me. Satan can only attack my mind now because my body is healing. And it's the scariest thing to battle him during my low points."

Michelle is learning many things again. Today she walked 100-feet, which might seem like nothing to a marathon runner like Michelle. Recently she came to the realization that her mind is not what it once was. Memory. Speech. Normal tasks and mental activities. She's relearning many things.

"It's the remaking of Michelle", she says. "The old sins and desires--they are gone. Like physically, they are gone. I don't even want them anymore. Watching TV, seeing sinful stuff around me, I cannot even handle watching it. I sit with the TV off most of the time. Just praising God instead."

Michelle is beginning to realize something I blogged a few weeks ago, when I had a nauseating encounter with Michelle during one of her lowest points. Today she articulated is like an old hymn being sung, with strong conviction, deep wisdom, and simple idea: "Why am I alive, Ashley? I should be dead. I should be dead but I'm not. Sitting here, meeting nurses and doctors and therapists, watching my family take care of me, I realize that God could take us out in a second, but he hasn't yet. I used to go to work, hang out, live my life--all the while thinking that we were just kinda hanging out until God did something with us. But now, now I realize fully that the only reason any of us are still here today is because God is determined to use us for a serious and specific purpose that no one else could fulfill.
"My lips are ready. Lips once used carelessly are unable to say anything except "God saved me". Hands and feet are ready to share him with the world. I sit in the down times of physical therapy, and I just start talking about God. I don't care anymore. I don't care what people think. I have a story and I have an audience. What else shoudld I do with these 2 things?
"Ashley, is God getting the glory he deserves."

Tears run down my face as it warms from the excessive heat being cranked in the hotel room. Tears drop onto her wrist, covered in a cast after suffering a fracture some months earlier. I look up at Michelle, I close my eyes and spread my arms out real wide, and I say "Like a ripple in a vast ocean. Everyone is different."

I open my eyes and Michelle's crooked smile is quivering. "Then I'd do it again in a second."

And another life changed for good. Another sinner brought to the feet of her savior. Another broken heart on the mend. Another life spared for a reason.
I don't get it. It doesn't make sense to me why some people die and others don't. Suffering is ever-present, and to accept this makes believing in Christ a whole lot more significant.

What would we do if we each realized we really had a purpose that irreplaceable? How differently might we treat our neighbors, handle hard situations or uncertainties, share love with those around us, if we saw in our own lives what Michelle has found in hers?

a few words from michelle
michelle's blog

Thursday, 01 December 2005

AIDS Awareness Day.

Support World AIDS Day
Today is National AIDS Awareness day around the world. Today, 40.3 million people are living with HIV and AIDS.
Please read more about this today and say a prayer for those around the world who are suffering.
Forbes on AIDS, Dec. 1

Monday, 28 November 2005

things i'm thankful for:

1--God's ability to grant freedom and rest.
2--peace in the midst of pain.
3--jake severino, who just said "if you press on pennies, will they fly?" and is asking me to cut out letters from paper.
4--amanda being in spain.

5--peanut butter.
6--sharpies.
7--thunderstorms.
8--asian people.
9--old blind dogs
10--california.

Behind each of these is a million memories. Thank you God for moments. And for teaching me that this moment is the place to be. And for showing me that you are like an ocean and I am like a drop of rain. you dip me down into who you are and what you are doing, you make me part of that bigger thing, then you return me to you.

Saturday, 26 November 2005

the intolerable thirst of the suffering.

Define suffering.
Is it always unjust?
Why does suffering exist?

We hear statistics, of which I searched all day long--planning to list them out for you. I wanted the shock factor to dominate the introduction to this blog. But after about an hour on the internet, reading story after story, surfing from website to webiste, i realized how numbing statistics are. They are way over our heads. So I left them out.

Here are some of the websites I visited today, if you are interested. The last one is a video that actually really annoys me, but it's worth seeing:
international justice mission
amnesty international
jubilee debt campaign
ONE campaign video

and just for fun: good ole' cs

Back to my questions. Why does God allow suffering? I ask this everyday. Why do squatter women with no real means of attaining their own building/home in certain Southeast Asian countires live under the fear of a government that tramps through the countryside looking for someone to prey upon?
Why are the death tolls of women in Guatemala between January and November of this year in the 500 range?
Why do girls in Thailand complacently sell their bodies to faceless monsters for a small fee?
Why are children in India bonded laborers for 50 cent debts incurred through medical bills from their sisters near death experience after being brutally raped?
Why did 98% of Achenese residents in certain parts of Sumatra die when the tsunami hit?
Why are Moldovan orphans sold to Italy, Germany, the U.S., and other countries in a business that contributes to the $9.5 BILLION generated in annual revenue from human trafficking?

What is suffering? Is it always unjust? What is the purpose of coerced pain?

I want to know how God can sit and watch generations, billions of years of countless moments of injustice. I want to know, because it's real. It is real, maybe not in my world. But this stuff happens, and I want to know how God can just allow it. I'd love your thoughts, and don't be afraid to say something "wrong".

As Americans, we don't know much about injustice. We just don't. It's not our faults, really. I mean, we cannot control where we are born and raised, the family we acquire, the environment around us. We are creatures destined for a certain upbrining. But there comes an age in life when we have to start accepting responsiblity for our ignorance. That age, for any of us reading (or writing) this, has come.

So welcome to the wake up. This is it. This is my attempt to awaken myself from my sleep. From my "Can you believe the AIDS problem in Africa? Now, let's go eat some chicken" existence. As I've said before, this is not the way the rest of the world lives.

So, God. How do you allow this? Clearly you are omnipotent. Clearly you've seen it all, from the first to the last cry from the pits of unjust suffering. If it pisses me off to read one story in one book about one kid suffering like this, how do you, being God and all you claim to be, allow this?

I'd like to say I found the answer in the Bible. And I"m sure it is there. But today, when I was asking this question, I found that I'd left my Bible at It's a Grind. I have others, but they are hard to navigate. They are not MY bible, where things are marked and stamped and highlighted and tabbed.
So I turned to Gary Haugen, president of International Justice Mission. I'm in the dead middle of his book "Good News About Injustice." Seemed like a good place to look.

Seriously, God is awesome. And he answered my questions. PLEASE read this and see the answer, at least the answer I am completely able to accept.
Haugen's outline: 1) we don't know the secrets of God. We know in part.
Deuteronomy 29:29 'There are things hidden, and they belong to the LORD our God, but what is revealed belongs to us and our children for ever; it is for us to observe all that is prescribed in this law.' (new english bible)

2) (this is the answer) we remember the cross.
John Stott said it right: "I could never myself believe in a God, if it were not for the cross. The only God I believe in is the One Nietzsche ridiculed as "God on the cross". In a real world of pain, how could one worship a God who was immune to it? I have entered many Buddhist temples in different Asian countries and stood respectfully before the stature of Buddha, his legs crossed, arms folded, eyes closed, the ghost of a smile playing round his mouth, a remote look on his face, detached from the agonies of the world. But each time after a while I have had to turn away. And in imagination I have turned instead to that lonely, twisted, tortured figure on the cross, nails through hands and feet, back lacerated, limbs wrenched, brow bleeding from thorn pricks, mouth dry and intolerably thirsty, plunged in God-forsaken darkness. That is the God for me! He laid aside his immunity to pain. He entered our world of flesh and blood, tears and death. He suffered for us. Our suffering became more manageable in light of his. There is still a question mark against human suffering, but over it we boldly stamp another mark, the cross which symbolizes divine suffering. "The cross of Christ...is God's only self-justification in a world such as ours."

Haugen responds, and this is SO good: "So when at times I flippantly challenge the Almighty as to why he allows horrendous suffering, I am pulled up in a shudder of humility as I recall that there is no measure of his creation's suffering that he has not been willing to bear himself."

AH!--as Joshua would say. God, that is good. Literally, "God, that is good."
This perspective is so obvious, I guess, but I never thought of it. That the suffering of Christ, the real unjust suffering inflicted upon one man for the sins of all who've lived and died and suffered and inflicted suffering, inclusively covers every form of suffering. And, if you believe in anything God says to us, then you believe EVERYTHING God says to us, which leaves you believing that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and died for us.

Gimme some comments. If you made it this far!
"god whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our painL it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world." --my boy jack

Thursday, 24 November 2005

joshua imagined.

i sure do wish they had cameras back in bible times. i'd give a lot to see what Joshua looked like. I think he was a hottie. I really do.
I think he was young, maybe my age. After all, I am young :)
I think of him in American ways...but I guess he was an Arab. hmmm...i cannot remember ever finding an arab male physically attractive, but i am sure there are exceptions. let's pretend he was really hot.
this morning over coffee and raisin bran, i knew God was leading me to read Joshua. I woke up in fear. To be honest, I am afraid of lots of stuff right now. And satan's really pressing in to me right now, I felt him alot yesterday. I felt really unable to be near God but I knew I was...I just knew I was being lied to by the enemy. I was way to worried about things that don't matter. And that's nothing of God.

"Then Joshua tore his clothes and fell facedown to the ground before the ark of the Lord, remaining there till evening. The elders of Israel did the same, and sprinkled dust on their heads. And Joshua said, "Ah, Sovereign Lord, why did you ever bring this people across the Jordan to deliver us into the hands of the Amorites to destory us?...What then will you do for your own great name."

The LORD said to Joshua, "Stand up! What are you doing down on your face?"

I laughed out loud as I read this. Soy milk came spewing out of my nose, I found this so humorous. God speaking always makes my heart beat a little faster. Like when I'm reading the chronicles and Aslan appears. For those who read these books, you know it's a short lived scene but it's going to blow your mind and leave you with goosebumps.
I was so into this story, imagining Joshua prostrate, torn clothes, disheveled hair and tear-stained face, screaming "AH!!" at God. And that was really attractive to me. A man on his face before God. Thinking he'd done the right thing, thinking God had led him through Jericho and to the city of Ai to capture it. Thinking his second major war decision was flawless: send 3000 men instead of the whole army (Joshua 7:4). And they come back, tail between their legs, defeated in their own eyes. How awful would this feel for Joshua? i just wanted to comfort him.
But then God speaks and I realized Joshua's tactic of asking God for clarity was too complicated. If God has made a promise and then it seems that the opposite is happening, our first move should not be to question God. It should be to question ourselves? Have we been disobedient? Is God witholding something he promised BECAUSE we aren't keeping our end of the deal. Looking back on my own life, it's been either YES or I'm just rushing God. It's never been that God lied or forgot what he said or changed his promise. He added on to it or completed it and immediatel started something else, but he never broke his word. And he never will.

So God's telling Joshua "Get up, doofus! What are you doing down on your face?"

Turns out the Israelites had stolen some goods from Jericho and buried them in their tents, something God had specifically said not to do: "But keep away from the devoted things, so that you will not bring about your own destruction by taking any of them. Otherwise you will make the camp of Israel liable to destruction and bring trouble on it." (Joshua 6:18)

Oops!

The answer was simple. Israel had been disobedient (Again!). God kept his word, he punished the whole camp for their disobedience.

What does this mean for our lives?
Well, what has God told us he'd do but not yet done? And what are we doing to skimp out on our side of the deal? He's got to keep his word, even if it means destroying us or our plans.

So, that means a lot for me today. God's destroyed alot of my plans, even things he gave me that I knew were good and gifts from him. But they came with an agreement--an agreement I broke. So, God took those gifts away and moved on.

Luckily, he moved me on too and he's doing something new. Thank God for forgiveness.

"The journey had begun. And now the fear back again, the fear of the unknown, the fear of the great city where boys were killed crossing the street, the fear of...sickness...
Deep down the fear of a man who lives in a world not made for him, whose own world is slipping away, dying, being destroyed, beyond any recall.
Already the knees are weak of the man who a moment since had shown his little vanity, told his little lie, before these respectful people.
The humble man reached in his pocket for his sacred book, and began to read. It was this world alone that was certain."
--Alan Paton. Cry, the Beloved Country.

Wednesday, 23 November 2005

He's in all that is good.


I highly recommend this book to any one of you. It was given to me as a representation of one of God's most blessed gifts: the value of uniqueness in friendship. Amy Jacobs, who I love and respect and find great joy in knowing and being with, gave this to me one day out of the blue. She saw it and thought of me. Those are the best gifts.
The author, Ric Erbenbright, began his traveling photography career a nonbeliever. Spending most of his time in India, Pakistan/the middle east, Ecuador, Nepal and China (see why I love the man--he loves asia!), he photographed God's creation: earth, people, the things they have made, family, marriage, labor. Unknowingly, he was compiling the very images of his now blatantly Christian books, The Art of God and The Image of God: The Glory of Man.
It was through his travels, through his subjects, through his very camera lens, that God began to take shape in his heart. Imagine countless trips alone, nights in lonely hotel rooms, long days in deserted mountain towns, tramping through evil and spiritual bondage. A life such as this would lead anyone to question "what is man?" (psalm 8), the verse Ric uses to open this book.
Ric became a Christian through these photos. The people of the world led him to Christ without even knowing it. He saw too much he couldn't explain, from towering Himalayan mountains to children suffering under Communist dictatorship to men laboring under scorching sunrays only to earn enough to maintain a poverty-stricken existence in a barren land.
His story is amazing. His books tell his story. Both life and books speak of a God we all long to know should we dare to invite him into our own life pictures.

Monday, 21 November 2005

simon says:

greetings,
> i have been very happy the whole day until now. now that i am reading you
> mail i am very happy than before. perhaps somethings is going to happen with
> me????????
> congratulations for making it to africa, welcome home and will be seeing
> each other very soon.
> i was thinking of writing but could not find enough time. even now i am
> writing this mail, it seems my instincts tells me to rush and go somewhere
> because i am really extremly happy.
> when are you moving to this side of the world? when will i see you again?
> how is life that side of the world?
> until we meet agiain, wishing you all the best.
> happier
> big bro,
> simon!

working at an orphanage in africa.


making something out of clay at an orphanage in burma.


in burma.

This man makes me so happy! He's truly one of the wisest men I know. I've always told him that.
He used to tell me that I'd end up in Africa one day, but I just laughed because anything that wasn't Asia was out of the picture.
Well, he was right! I cannot wait to see him again.

Sunday, 20 November 2005

God's sunday comic strip

i love God. he's been doing some really funny stuff lately. my super hilarious and longtime friend abby goff told the world about how God put her Bible in her purse.
and today my mom told me her "funny story" as she called it.

first of all, let me say that God meets us where we are and with the resources we have. i've learned this time and again through missions and through my life in suburbia america. god speaks through our stuff if we are looking for his voice.
a few (less than i wish i could say) years ago, my mom bought me an elmo doll, the one that giggles and talks about being tickled. if you recall what he says at the end of his little rant, you'll find this funny.
so my mom is feeling bad today. she hasfibromyalgia, and it sucks. she hurts all the time.
so today she was sitting in the den, ready for church but not feeling like she could get out of the chair. she was reading Isaiah, and just asked God to give her the ability to get up and go to church.
all of a sudden, from another room in the house, elmo/god speaks: "I FEEL GREAT!!!!!"

my mom was at church.
i love that story :)

Saturday, 19 November 2005

my friend julie


lives in india. (the one by the window)
she is really cool and she belives in me.
sometimes distance makes no difference. you just know some things in life.
and you act on them in instinct.

flames of mine

this song, this video--i know i have lauded it before, but i'm not really able to stop watching it and singing it in my head.
i know people in the majority of the countries mentioned.
i have seen faces of the hurting in the world.
and they stay in my head like a slideshow constantly playing against the screen of the backs of my eyelids.

the words to this song describe how i feel most of my days, all day long. i wake up thinking about this kind of stuff.
i don't know what that leads you to believe about me and i don't care. i cannot worry about this.
i just need you to know that, inside of me, this song is the truth i wish i could explain to all of you.
it's why i cannot stay in america for now.

the bridge especially--"hearts break, hearts mend. love still hurts. visions clash, planes crash. still there's talk of saving souls. still the cold is closing in on us."--that's how i would have said it. these words are why i am moving to africa.
WORLD ON FIRE (Sarah McLachlan)--WATCH THE VIDEO by clicking on the title

Hearts are worn in these dark ages
You're not alone in this story's pages
Night has fallen amongst the living and the dying
And I try to hold it in, yeah I try to hold it in

[Chorus]
The world's on fire and
It's more than I can handle
I'll tap into the water
(I try to pull my ship)
I try to bring more
More than I can handle
(Bring it to the table)
Bring what I am able

I watch the heavens and I find a calling
Something I can do to change this moment
Stay close to me while the sky is falling
Don't wanna be left alone, don't wanna be alone

[Chorus]

Hearts break, hearts mend
Love still hurts
Visions clash, planes crash
Still there's talk of
Saving souls, still the cold
Is closing in on us

We part the veil on our killer sun
Stray from the straight line on this short run
The more we take, the less we become
A fortune of one that means less for some

Thursday, 17 November 2005

my favorite jake.

this is jake. he's my monday buddy. this past week we made sun hats and ocean necklaces. We also found out the best way to not tell Jake that his fish died. We read a book called The Three Trees. this book should be given to us at birth.

Jake quote of the week:"I forgot you had the 2nd coolest key chain in the world. All you have to do is grab your keys and write on your pumpkin." (said after seeing my Sharpie on my keychain. i love how kids associate items with the most random things. to jake, a sharpie symoblizes halloween pumpkin carving.)

This next photo is us sitting on the kitchen floor. I like to take pictures of reflections. Hint the title of my blog. Lots of cool stuff happens when I'm reflecting in or around water. The bath tub used to be my best place to think. I say that like's it's not anymore!


This is the happiest sight for my eyes. Do you see why I love jake's family? (ps--the jar says "Missions" on it)


And here's me and my dad at the airport. Welcome home, dad. We have many more adventures to come...

Wednesday, 16 November 2005

My heart is breaking.


My dad came home this morning. He's tan and smiling from ear to ear. He had a beaded bracelet on his arm. I told him he looked like a hippy.
He also had letters from my boys. Here's a picture of two of them. They are so small, in size and in the world. They are like two drops in the ocean, like each one of us. And yet, I think I know how Christ felt when he willingly died for us. I think I know how obedience unto death was his only option. It was either that, the result of which was a forever time with those he loves (long term results outweighed the short term pain) OR be with them now in sinful, selfish, lonely world time, and never see them again, for eternal life wouldn't be an option.
So, I see how Christ did it. Cause when I look at this picture, I feel that I'd probably go to the same extreme if I knew it'd get them to God.
I'd give anything I have for that.

Seth. Arley. Kara Orendorf. Nicole. Abby. Lemkin's Flea Market


"The artist is a servant who is willing to be a birthgiver. In a very real sense the artist (male or female) should be like Mary who, when the angel told her that she was to bear the Messiah, was obedient to the command...I believe that each work of art, whether it is a work of great genius, or something very small, comes to the artist and says, "Here I am. Enflesh me. Give birth to me." And the artist either says, "My soul doth magnify the Lord," and willingly becomes the bearer of the work, or refuses; but the obedient response is not necessarily a conscious one, and not everyone has teh humble courageous obedience of Mary."
--Madeline L'Engle, Walking on Water.

Personal Invitation to the first annual Lemkin's Flea Market
a place for local artists to obediently serve the world around them.

Dec. 3rd, all day long
My house.

Please comes and see what you can find.

Tuesday, 15 November 2005

Looking for the Burmese Junta? Sorry, It's Gone Into Hiding

let's play a game: in the comments section, copy your favorite sentence or point in this article. for those of you who've been to burma, this will be challenging. i could just paste the entire article, starting with this brilliant title. i'm really eager to hear from you guys on this. thanks to nicole for finding it for me.

By SETH MYDANS
Published: November 14, 2005

BANGKOK, Nov. 13 - At precisely 6:37 a.m. last Sunday, according to one account - with a shout of "Let's go!" - a convoy of trucks began a huge, expensive and baffling transfer of the government of Myanmar from the capital to a secret mountain compound 200 miles to the north.

Diplomats and foreign analysts were left groping a week later for an explanation of the unannounced move. In a country as secretive and eccentric as Myanmar, it is a full-time job to try to tease the truth from the swirl of rumors and guesswork, relying on few facts and many theories. The leading theories now have to do with astrological predictions and fears of invasion by the United States. The relocation, which the government announced to reporters and foreign diplomats a day after it began, but not yet to the public through the state-controlled media, had been rumored for years.

A Burmese truck convoy hauling office furniture last week to the mysterious mountain hideaway.
But according to reports from the capital, Yangon, officials and civil servants were given only a day or two to pack and say goodbye to their families.

When they arrived at the new site, called Pyinmanaa, it was still under construction, and there were shortages of water, telephone lines and even sleeping quarters and food, according to family members quoted by news agencies and exile groups that monitor Myanmar.

Foreign diplomats said they were told that if they had urgent business with the relocated government, they could send a fax but that no number was yet available.

According to diplomats and other unofficial sources inside Myanmar, the vast, fortified compound is to contain military headquarters, government ministries, huge meeting halls, residences, hotels, a hospital, an airport, underground bunkers and, not surprisingly in this golf-mad region, a golf course.

The minister of information, U Kyaw Hsan, told reporters in Yangon, formerly Rangoon, that the transfer of the government had begun with 9 of the 32 ministries. He gave no date for completing the move.

The military junta that runs the former Burma offered little explanation for its mystery move. "Due to changed circumstances, where Myanmar is trying to develop a modern nation, a more centrally located government seat has become a necessity," it said in a statement.

That left plenty of room for theories, and it was difficult to find one that seemed rational. Astrology seemed to make as much sense as anything.

Myanmar is a deeply superstitious nation that scheduled its ceremony marking independence from the British to follow astrological dictates, at exactly 4:20 a.m. on Jan. 4, 1948.

The 6:37 a.m. departure was reported by U Aung Zaw, the editor of Irrawaddy Magazine, an émigré publication based in neighboring Thailand with a network of contacts inside Myanmar. He said this strangely precise departure time might well have been dictated by astrologers.

Astrological timing may also have been behind the abruptness of the move to a site that was not yet complete.

One theory is that the move was prompted by astrologers who several years ago warned the ruling generals that the dilapidated capital on the Bay of Bengal would become a dangerous place for them.

Seen from their perspective, the notion of an American invasion might not seem far-fetched. They are a ruling clique of soldiers whose background is jungle warfare and who know little of the outside world.

For years they have been squeezed by economic sanctions and battered by relentless criticism from the West over their abuses of human rights, and they have responded by pulling further into their shells.

In January, Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice included Myanmar in a list of "outposts of tyranny," along with North Korea, Cuba, Iran, Zimbabwe and Belarus.

Officials in Myanmar sometimes offer visitors a list of their own: Panama, Grenada, Somalia, Kosovo, Afghanistan, Iraq - places where the United States has sent armed forces.

Not long ago, according to one story making the rounds in Myanmar, a military officer was asked the purpose of obligatory civil defense training for civilian men. "You are the holding action against the Americans until the Chinese come to our aid," the officer said, according to David I. Steinberg, a professor at Georgetown University who is a leading expert on Myanmar.

Mr. Steinberg said rumors of an American "rescue" circulate among opponents of the government - a current of wishful thinking that is as extravagant as the fears of the ruling generals.

"The joke going around is, 'After diamonds, gold,' " he said. In the Burmese language, "sein" - as in Saddam Hussein - means diamonds. "Shwe" - as in Gen. Than Shwe, the leader of the military junta - means gold.

There was no way to know whether there was a connection earlier this month when authorities in the capital reopened a road that passes by the entrance to the United States Embassy.

Barbed wire and concrete security barriers were removed for the first time since they were put in place after the attacks in New York and at the Pentagon on Sept. 11, 2001.

"Obviously, we are reviewing our security arrangements," an unidentified United States Embassy official told Reuters. "We felt a lot safer with them in place."

For now, there appear to be no schools and little housing for families at Pyinmanaa. The move is likely to separate civil servants from their families, as well as from the second jobs that many found necessary to make ends meet in the country's minimal economy.

The junta's physical move into a fortified retreat reflects what many experts on Myanmar say is a bunker mentality in the face of what it may see as a bewildering and antagonistic world.

"I keep hearing the same thing all the time," Mr. Steinberg said of the junta. "Look, we don't need you guys. We can go it alone. We've done it before, and so what's new."

(I can think of a millions and a half things I love about this article. The author has an obvious and rare understanding of the humor behind Burma's reasons for this long-awaited sojourn. An insincere apology to all who have sought to keep this country in hiding from the public eye. what do you expect when you make such a big ole' scene? really, mr. corruption and officer injustice, can you blame us for our verbosity on and hightened anticipation of the results. paranoia will destroy ya. only time will tell.)

Monday, 14 November 2005

hut church.


"As regards the setting, the music, the degree of understanding on the part of the majority, the command of language of those who spoke or prayed, or any helps toward atmosphere, sensitivity, or taste in worship, the San Miguel church left everything to be desired. But Almighty God does come and in fact dwell with men. And He, whne He was God manifest in the flesh, left a simple command, "This do in rememberance of me." Obedience to that command is possible nearly anywhere, anytime, by any who are willing. It does not require much in the way of visible trappings, of emotional enthusiasm, or of intellectual vigor."
--Elisabeth Elliot, missionary to the Colorado Indians in Santo Domingo de los Colorados, Ecuador.

Saturday, 12 November 2005

It's all in Love.

Ok, so I am back from Louisiana. I had a really good time down there. My team was totally great, so many willing and hard working and totally hilarious people. I don't really know how to articulate what I saw, or to make any big profound God revelations from it. It always feels like a dream.
One thing I realized last night while at dinner with Arley is that it is getting harder and harder to return to this place after I have been on a mission trip. I know it's a common feeling, but my emotions when I get home are all out of wack. I go through this depression phase where I just want to be angry. I go through this "simplistic" phase where I gather all my excess belongings and haul them off to Good will or I have a yard sale. I have this lonely phase where I just want someone to do this work with, and I think alot about love and loss. It's really a good thing for me to go throught these cycles, although to the reader they might sound slightly masochistic, which it is, but it's for a good cause. It's for a God cause. The older I get, the less I despise suffering. It's actually a major part of life, we just forget that in the temporal pleasures of this world. I guess my point is I don't get pleasure much at all from this world anymore. Not much at all. And to me, that's Biblical and that's the Holy Spirit in my life.

Over the past few years, God has said some really specific things to me. Like, "Develop your prayer life." or "Simplify your living." or "Get in shape." or "Don't date anyone." or more recently, "Write down my revelations. Wait for my timing. Something has been lingering for a long time, but now that you are not going to Asia, it's going to come without delay. Look at the nations and observe. Be amazed." So now, now that I've either not done what he said or done what he said not to do, I"m being forced into these things and that's caused some suffering. But the supreme joy that comes from being so unfailingly loved by my maker, by being pursued by him, by being believed in and held to a higher standard by him---it's worth every drop of pain that lands in my self-created bottle of suffering. It didn't have to be this hard, I just always opt for the field trip over the text book.

I get really pissed off these days by nominal christians. People who talk about God, or who pretend to be all close and loyal to him, people who put on that front when it serves their purposes. I get so frustrated and jealous on God's behalf by this excessiveness, this hoarding of things for one's personal gain, this fear of failure and fear of being in want. I want to scream at the top of my lungs, "You have no bleepin' idea what joy you are trading in for happiness, what peace you are trading in for comfort, what life you are trading in for maintenance, what freedom you are trading in for invisible shackels, what beauty you are trading in for lust, what shock and awe you are trading in for control." Do you understand the power of our God? Do you see that he can stop storms but hasn't lately? Do you recognize that he could intercede on your behalf alot more if you'd let him? Everything you own could be gone in a second. A gust of wind after hurricane Katrina knocked down trees and road signs 200 miles from the coast. Entire houses were emptied out into the neighbors yards. Newspapers from 10miles away were flying around the in the trees. HUGE pine trees bigger than our materialistic Christmas celebrations severed houses, families, lives. Death came without delay. And all that stuff means nothing now.

Just think what difference we could make. If we didn't buy that expensive car or that debt-laden house or that shopping spree for clothes we don't need. Did you know that countries in Africa are so deep in debt to America that they are financially enslaved to us until Christ returns? And that there are 40 million kids in the world waiting for adoption? And that 1 in 4 people in South Africa is infected with HIV? And that girls in Asia sell their bodies 10 times a night just to have money to survive? And that small children in India are getting 75 cents a week for rolling an unattainble quota of ciggarettes for our addictions to continue? And that we live and breathe and move freely in a society that on other country in the world experiences?

I'm angry about all this. It's not reality. The way we live is not reality. IF you are still even reading this, you probably think i"m condemning you and excluding myself from the path of these pointed fingers. I'm not. I have always loved stuff...but God's breaking me of that. I've always loved being loved...but God's showing me the failure of human love regardless of how ordained it is for our lives. I have always been insecure about my future...but God's enlarging my territory and dwindling my resources---all just to prove that it's not about me. It's not about how I look or appear to live or think I am. It's about him. It's ALL about him. DO you know what that means? My gosh, it should silence you.

I'll talk about Louisiana in a few days. I'm waiting for my pictures and i want to scan them and upload them so you can see me with a chainsaw! Until then, enjoy my cries for justice and my pleas for awakening! It's all in love.

Sunday, 06 November 2005

Welcome to the Continuation...

There have been no phone calls from secluded and oppressed Asian countries informing us of my father's absence at the airport in Burma, so I take that to mean he's safe and sound. I can see the mob scene at the airport, skirted and unshowered short people huddling around the exit of the airport, waiting for their loved ones to return. Suddenly, out from the airport come a line of 11 white, tired, large Americans. All men except for 2. Broad shoulders, shaved heads, athletic attire, lots of bags, lots of wide eyes staring at one another, insecurity, discomfort, fear. It's all there in one long line, exiting the airport into the stuffy and hot Burma air. AAAHHH, if only this were my life!

(faces)
I can see the streets curving around beautiful lakes and palm trees. I can see the cars swerving in and out of semiformed lines (since no lines on the street exist), a human game of frogger going on between one old taxi cab and another. I can see the sign as you leave the airport, "Welcome to the Golden Land". The billboards in wierd squiggly writing and longhaired asian models advertising VeVe Orange Soda. I can see the lines of buddhist monks, barefoot with alms bowl in hand, shaved heads, walking like ducks down the road. I can see the roundabouts with all the cars circling each other as they pass one pagoda after another, Buddhist stickers and air freshners and decoration covering the inside of their cars. I can see the 11 white people, unsure what they've willingly chosen to do, yet so hungry for each sight to be a memory and each moment to be different and new.

(cheeks)
I can see my monks, sitting around their phone, watching the clock tick its way to 3:00, when they promised to call my dad's hotel. I can hear them arguing about whether or not calling five minutes early is wrong, and what they will say and how they will say it, and questioning if they will be understood yet so overflowing with anticipation at seeing my father that they can't really imagine waiting another second. I can see them considering a ride to the hotel itself, just to see if he's really there. It's only a mile down Kaba Aye Road, so close that they could walk.

This was my world for a year and the further away from it I get, the more I long for it to be returned to me. The romanticized parts are gone. I remember the difficulties. I remember lying cheek down to the kitchen tile floor, craving the slight coolness it offered to my sweating body as my air conditioner and I suffered the loss of electricty for the 5th time that day. I can see Melissa and I making peanut butter cookies in the total dark, our candles spreading wax all over the floor, while late night sounds of families winding down and young people having a good time ride the hot air up to our kitchen window on the 10th floor. I can remember reading by candlelight everynight, trying to know God more and trying to learn about life from books. Writing emails four times because my computer crashed again and again. Sitting and staring at photos of friends back home, wondering if they remembered me. Arguing with my supervisor because we are just really different, and then having hte Lord convict me and force me to right my wrong with those around me. These were not fun moments, but the person I am today longs for them again. They have gone from memories I've tried to forget to priceless pieces of the beautiful puzzle of my life, being put together by the First Artist, the Mosaic Maker. He's really good at what he does.

(sign)
(tractor)
Tomorrow morning at 6:30 am, I embark on a new kind of adventure: missions in America. Pearl River, Louisiana is about to be bombarded with 18 Tennesseans with chainsaws. Back up, Gulf Coast. We're coming down!!! I'll be hauling brush and making fun of Todd Jenkins for the next 5 days and I'm feeling mixed emotions about this trip. I think it's because my mom is now going to be here alone and I hate that. She's used to it, but it's just the idea of leaving her here that I regret the reality of. But I do believe I'm supposed to do this. And I'm excited to experience what I love most in life (missions) in my OWN country, something you all probably wish I did more of. It should be good.

Today I walked at Percy Warner Park with Nicole, where we talked about Indonesian rapists and Indian child slaves. I think we touched on less heavy topics, but one thing I love most about Nicole is that she listens to me talk about all these wierd things and then she thinks about them with me. It's not too much for her, and I like that. She's on her way here to watch Hotel Rwanda with me. What's a Saturday without a little 20th century african genocide after dinner?

I'll talk to you all in a week or so. Pray for my dad in burma, my mom in nashville, and me in pearl river. and enjoy the beautiful trees on fire with god's changing creation.
And thanks to Dave Hunt whose song "the continuation" has spoken hope to me this week:
"Welcome to the continuation of what God is doing in our lives. Let us lift our voices, sing with all our might. Because he is with us. He is here and he deserves the praises of our hearts. A living sacrifice, the best we have to offer. So come with freedom, come with confidence. We are sons and daugthers of the King, sing...
You are worthy of all honor, glory, praise and power, we sing with the angels."

Saturday, 05 November 2005

quiet

i have felt really quiet lately. my head is still going and my thoughts are still sometimes serious and deep, but overall there is a quiet in my soul. i cannot explain it. it isn't necessarily a peace, or maybe it is. it's just that i still feel emotions and i still experience mourning over my losses as of late and i still feel depressed when i think about certain things, but my point is that i'm just not talking about it or really spending time investing in these emotions. they are just passing through like a storm.

i don't know i think anyone will care about this post. it's not exciting and it's got little encouragement to offer. but i just wanted to post something.

my dad left last night for burma. that was wierd. satan was all up in our drive to the airport and it pissed me off because it wasn't what i imagined. nothing is. that's my first lesson i need to learn for good.
but as he walked away to go through security with his team, he turned to me and gave me a huge hug, and i think he started prophesying over me. i know it sounds hokey to some of you, but it felt like God himself was speaking to my soul. i won't share what he said but it was really specific and really in line with what God's been saying to me over the past 3 months.

So i came home and reread some of my journals from my time in virginia, and i restudied the verses god used to keep my in america. and i saw that, based on where i am today and what i'm experiencing emotionally and mentally, God is really following through. He said some really specific things to me in Virginia about his timing, about things lingering but not delaying, about things "speaking of the end". And since I've been back I see him following through, giving more to the story.

--My garden friend Michelle nearly died in a wreck. I saw her a week and a half ago, alone. I had no one to share that experience with and it was hard. She was in so much pain and I wasn't even supposed to be there, it just happened that i literally wandered into her hallway and found her room. It made me so dizzy and nauseaus just being in her presence. It was like i was in a dream. I saw her again today, and she was up giving hugs, eating pureed food, reading cards, laughing, playing her guitar, and making jokes like normal. When she told me to tell my dad hello, I said that he was in Burma. She IMMEDIATELY said "and how are you with that? you're not ok." a moment of silence, and then she said, "but i'm glad you are here today." This girl's been on morhphine and other drugs for 3 weeks, and she immediately responded with empathy. I have people who haven't even thought to ask about that, and she did. What? I'm not trying to say that people should think of me all the time, but it was a huge learning lesson for me, that this is just Michelle's nature. It quieted me. Her whole experience has spoken of the end.

--Kyle Lake died this week, and Seth & Arley flew to Texas for the funeral. It's changed them, and I'm seeing how kyle's "speaking of the end" in life and death is quieting my friends.

--An old friend came to It's a Grind this mornings, someone from my past who I loved and tried to care for deeply. This person really hurt me in the end, but when they walked in my heart melted. This person was near the end of life and God saved them...and it's seemed to quiet them for a time.

I had lots of other examples but i've forgotten them all. I also had lots of great qutoes and songs and all, but now i'm just quiet. and i want to go to bed.

my dad lands in burma in 2 hours. that means he's somewhere above vietnam right now in a plane. how wierd is that?

Thursday, 03 November 2005

"to be concerned"

Charm Tong, a Shan campaigner for human rights, scored something of a coup yesterday as she was invited to the White House for talks on Burma with US President George W Bush.

The 24-year-old met with Bush for 15 minutes in an attempt to press his administration to step up action against Burma’s military government, a spokesperson for her organization, Shan Women’s Action Network, told The Irrawaddy.

The human rights campaigner told Bush to “push Burma at the UN Security Council and raise the issue with neighboring countries and also Japan, as these are the countries that are dealing with the present regime, the SPDC,” the spokesperson said from Chiang Mai, Thailand, where SWAN’s headquarters is located.

Charm Tong also raised the plight of the Burmese people, about which Bush is said “to be concerned.”

Announcing the visit in a daily press briefing yesterday, spokesperson Scott McClellan told gathered media: “The president is pleased to welcome such a courageous and compassionate woman to the White House.”

McClellan described Charm Tong as a person who has “dedicated her life to helping those who suffer under the military rule in Rangoon, and to exposing the regime's abuses, particularly against women.”

She also met with other leading US administration officials including National Security Advisor Stephen Hadley, as well as Burma campaign groups, SWAN confirmed, in a trip that has been extended to last more than a week.

Yesterday’s meeting is the latest event in a year in which Charm Tong has gained increasing prominence, receiving a Reebok Democracy Award in March and later featuring as one of “Asia’s Heroes” in Time magazine for her work with SWAN, helping Shan refugees along the Thai-Burma border.

The organization is best known for producing the 2002 report “License to Rape,” in which Charm Tong and her team documented 625 cases of rape against ethnic Shan women, a high percentage of which it says were incidents of gang rape in what it described as a systematic campaign of sexual violence by the Burmese Army.

The report prompted Burma’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs to issue a rebuttal, claiming the ruling State Peace and Development Council investigated the alleged incidents without finding any wrongdoing. SWAN’s report was later corroborated by Refugees International in their document entitled “No Safe Place,” published in 2003.

my friend liz received this in an email from one of her monks. yay for burma!!!