BBC recently posted an article on the labioplasty debate.
Dang, looks like we're running out of body parts to be insecure about. I wouldn't say I was insecure about my vagina before, but I certainly am now - or at least wondering if I should be. Who cares whether a vagina's aesthetically pleasing? Granted, this is spoken like somebody who doesn't have sex often (actually never - the whole Christian and single thing), but seriously - aesthetics? People had plenty of fun years ago when nobody cut themselves to look nicer, and people still have plenty of fun today without doing so. If I had a daughter, the last thing I'd want her worrying about is whether or not her vagina is up to par with pornstar standards. Don't try to sell me this as feminism either - this is about living up to porn models instead of celebrating vaginas the way nature intended.
And that's my vagina monologue of the day.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Hosea in Green
I've been thoroughly enjoying studying the Old Testament over the last few months. Previously, it didn't mean a whole lot - to me the real meat of the Bible was in the New Testament. I didn't understand the OT, for the most part, and I didn't enjoy it all that much. Now, I've got to say, it's my favorite part. It's like trying your broccoli and finding out it tastes like chocolate cake.
Part of why I love the Old Testament so much is my prof's Scottish dry wit. He manages to point out truths inherent in the OT as though they were obvious - although to him, they are. The more I study the text, the more I learn, and the more obvious it becomes how much truth is in there.
Today, in class, Iain stirred me out of my Old Testament daydreaming by saying: "A simple reading of the text is enough to convince anyone that God and people and the rest of Creation are bound." This is not surprising in itself, except that he got it from Hosea, not Genesis as I would have expected. To me, Hosea is fairly simple. A prophet is talking about how Israel is cheating on God the way his wife cheated on him. The book is about anger, but also incredible grace and forgiveness. It's not the first place I'd go looking for the link between the Gospel and redemption of the environment.
Iain pushed us to read "with attentiveness," Hosea 4:1-3. There is no acknowledgment of God in the land, and everybody is breaking God's commandments. Yet because of this, the land is suffering - animals are dying. Referring to this verse, Iain said: "Those who say that ecological concern is a pagan intrusion onto orthodox Christianity simply aren't reading their Bibles."
The logic in Hosea is simple, and considered obvious. If image-bearers are not living according to God's way, they are incapable of looking after the rest of the planet. Societal dysfunction among human beings impacts creation. We are linked to our environment.
It follows also that redemption is not simply about Jesus saving my soul, but about redemption of the world - the land included. If we as Christians are participants in the reign of God, it is our responsibility to care for the land and receive the restoration of God into it. Christ did not just die for me, but for this world. The Resurrection provides us with a new hope - not only a personal one, but one that encompasses the entire world. It's a fuller picture of salvation for sure, but more accurate than a vertical view of it. And it's all considered obvious in Hosea. Who knew? Iain, apparently. And me, now too.
Part of why I love the Old Testament so much is my prof's Scottish dry wit. He manages to point out truths inherent in the OT as though they were obvious - although to him, they are. The more I study the text, the more I learn, and the more obvious it becomes how much truth is in there.
Today, in class, Iain stirred me out of my Old Testament daydreaming by saying: "A simple reading of the text is enough to convince anyone that God and people and the rest of Creation are bound." This is not surprising in itself, except that he got it from Hosea, not Genesis as I would have expected. To me, Hosea is fairly simple. A prophet is talking about how Israel is cheating on God the way his wife cheated on him. The book is about anger, but also incredible grace and forgiveness. It's not the first place I'd go looking for the link between the Gospel and redemption of the environment.
Iain pushed us to read "with attentiveness," Hosea 4:1-3. There is no acknowledgment of God in the land, and everybody is breaking God's commandments. Yet because of this, the land is suffering - animals are dying. Referring to this verse, Iain said: "Those who say that ecological concern is a pagan intrusion onto orthodox Christianity simply aren't reading their Bibles."
The logic in Hosea is simple, and considered obvious. If image-bearers are not living according to God's way, they are incapable of looking after the rest of the planet. Societal dysfunction among human beings impacts creation. We are linked to our environment.
It follows also that redemption is not simply about Jesus saving my soul, but about redemption of the world - the land included. If we as Christians are participants in the reign of God, it is our responsibility to care for the land and receive the restoration of God into it. Christ did not just die for me, but for this world. The Resurrection provides us with a new hope - not only a personal one, but one that encompasses the entire world. It's a fuller picture of salvation for sure, but more accurate than a vertical view of it. And it's all considered obvious in Hosea. Who knew? Iain, apparently. And me, now too.
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Kids Rock
I've never really been around kids much. Even when I was young, the only kids I generally hung out with were the ones in my class, and they were all older. There were maybe one or two kids I knew who were younger than me, family friends, but even then we didn't hang out much and the age difference was never that big. I was an only child, and my mom did not want any contact with extended family, so it was just me. I was never a camp counselor, or involved with youth either, so I skipped that whole "interaction with kids" stage.
As a result, I find myself hugely intimidated by children. When meeting a new kid, I become incredibly shy, and it's up to the kid to draw me out. Embarrassing, I know. I'm even uncomfortable with babies. I was over at Ed's family's house, holding his nephew Mateo the other day. I obviously looked like I was holding a football, but Lisa (Mateo's mom), still let me anyways. When Mateo started to cry, I awkwardly bounced him on my leg. He briefly stopped, gave me a look of incredulity, and then wailed some more. Lisa kindly claimed he was hungry, and took him back to feed him. I sheepishly explained that I wasn't used to kids. Lisa is a great mom, and I was really surprised when she said that she hadn't been around babies before Mateo either. Jennie, the new grandma, was so gentle with her response to me too - she said that of course the unknown is uncomfortable. It's just because I'm not used to kids.
I think she's right. I'm totally used to the Johnson kids by now, having been somewhat amalgamated into their family, and I think they're used to me too. I'm also getting used to the Cripps kids, although that's more because of their outreach to me. The first time I realized Awaken was home for me was when Ella Cripps made me a Christmas card last year. I don't think I'd ever said one word to her before that (out of shyness). And then when I left for Vancouver this year she surprised me again by giving me an entire jar of her own (and Leanne's) peach jam so I would have jam in Vancouver.
All this is to say that although I'm still uncomfortable around kids, I think I'm getting over my shyness. Community at Awaken and through various families who take me in, is teaching me how to care for kids and how to hang out with them without it being weird. So for me, this concept of community includes children. Not necessarily my own, although it's a possibility. But a community wouldn't be whole without kids running around.
I didn't realize how strongly I felt about children being awesome, until I read this child-bashing article. You know how when someone tells a joke or teases you but they kind of mean what they're saying, so it's not funny, it's hurtful? That's how I felt about this article. I think I've heard enough of these reasons from my family to know that there are some people who genuinely believe this stuff. And that's so incredibly sad - because kids are so cool!
The really rebellious part of me, upon reading this article, wanted to find myself a sperm donor and pop out a few just to prove that having kids is a good thing. But I also believe that being single is a good thing, and maybe the sperm donor idea isn't great... Point is, it's good to take the singleness path, and it's good to take the family life path also - but both should include children (either your own or those of others near you), because children are part of community. It takes a village to raise a child, right? It also takes children to form a village. I'm excited about getting the chance to hang out with kids more, and get comfortable.
As a result, I find myself hugely intimidated by children. When meeting a new kid, I become incredibly shy, and it's up to the kid to draw me out. Embarrassing, I know. I'm even uncomfortable with babies. I was over at Ed's family's house, holding his nephew Mateo the other day. I obviously looked like I was holding a football, but Lisa (Mateo's mom), still let me anyways. When Mateo started to cry, I awkwardly bounced him on my leg. He briefly stopped, gave me a look of incredulity, and then wailed some more. Lisa kindly claimed he was hungry, and took him back to feed him. I sheepishly explained that I wasn't used to kids. Lisa is a great mom, and I was really surprised when she said that she hadn't been around babies before Mateo either. Jennie, the new grandma, was so gentle with her response to me too - she said that of course the unknown is uncomfortable. It's just because I'm not used to kids.
I think she's right. I'm totally used to the Johnson kids by now, having been somewhat amalgamated into their family, and I think they're used to me too. I'm also getting used to the Cripps kids, although that's more because of their outreach to me. The first time I realized Awaken was home for me was when Ella Cripps made me a Christmas card last year. I don't think I'd ever said one word to her before that (out of shyness). And then when I left for Vancouver this year she surprised me again by giving me an entire jar of her own (and Leanne's) peach jam so I would have jam in Vancouver.
All this is to say that although I'm still uncomfortable around kids, I think I'm getting over my shyness. Community at Awaken and through various families who take me in, is teaching me how to care for kids and how to hang out with them without it being weird. So for me, this concept of community includes children. Not necessarily my own, although it's a possibility. But a community wouldn't be whole without kids running around.
I didn't realize how strongly I felt about children being awesome, until I read this child-bashing article. You know how when someone tells a joke or teases you but they kind of mean what they're saying, so it's not funny, it's hurtful? That's how I felt about this article. I think I've heard enough of these reasons from my family to know that there are some people who genuinely believe this stuff. And that's so incredibly sad - because kids are so cool!
The really rebellious part of me, upon reading this article, wanted to find myself a sperm donor and pop out a few just to prove that having kids is a good thing. But I also believe that being single is a good thing, and maybe the sperm donor idea isn't great... Point is, it's good to take the singleness path, and it's good to take the family life path also - but both should include children (either your own or those of others near you), because children are part of community. It takes a village to raise a child, right? It also takes children to form a village. I'm excited about getting the chance to hang out with kids more, and get comfortable.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Do you go to hell if you disagree with Eckhart Tolle?
As I've posted before, one of the things I find most interesting about Regent (the grad school on theology I attend) is how professors from different backgrounds and with different opinions manage to dialogue so well with each other and maintain not only respectfulness but love in doing so. Partly because they know each other fairly well and share many hearty laughs together, and partly because they have an inherent respect for the right of each of them (and us) to believe what we see fit, Regent profs embody the concept of unity in diversity.
I've been blessed to have previous experience with this idea at the Chaplains' Centre in the University of Calgary. I got to listen to dialogue between religions that was respectful and loving, (also including common laughter - I suspect this is no coincidence), and it was great. An example is one by Tim Sampson (Buddhist priest), and Philip Behman (Anglican priest). Even though I was invited by Tim (who I'd become friends with), it wasn't to convert me, but instead to promote peace. And that's a Kingdom value. There must be space for us to respect one another. The other core part of this is that peace did not imply any kind of watering down of beliefs. Instead, both Tim and Philip explained their own perspectives, promoting understanding of where one another is coming from as a means to a respectful life together.
John Stackhouse, a Regent prof, was recently quoted in an article by Maclean's, commenting on his opinion of Eckhart Tolle's theology. He was critical of the ideas Tolle presented. Tolle's response was to dismiss him altogether as representative of a fringe Christian who would burn a Muslim over a 5% difference in theology. Now I don't know John well - maybe he burns Muslims on his spare time, but I don't think so. In fact, he teaches Regent's class on World Religions. And having chatted with him, briefly, once, (yes this is my claim to fame and I will milk it for all it's worth), I would say that he has been exactly the opposite. Even a brief chat (ours was on the equality of women and how they have been oppressed) is enough for me to glean that John is deeply sympathetic to the marginalized, a peace-maker, and someone who seeks truth and justice. He doesn't seem likely to hold to his beliefs with a closed fist, but rather engages debate respectfully.
I know Eckhart even less well than I know John, because I haven't read any of his books, nor heard him speak. All I know is he was on Oprah and has started his own tradition of spirituality. So obviously I'm not going to comment on the content of what he says. The manner in which he dismissed John, though, was pretty discouraging for me. I'm a Christian, with a lot of friends who aren't, and I find it really hard sometimes to say what I think for fear of being ostracized. Christians are shunned in our society. It's not cool to love Jesus. You're lumped in with the rednecks. And then people find out I work in harm reduction and they get confused, thinking that I must not be a very faithful Christian. I'd like to say that God invented harm reduction, we just call it "accomodation" in theological circles.
Eckhart's dismissal of criticism demonstrated a scary trend I see among the "open-minded many" - one of mockery and disrespect for Christians. It seems that society has swung the other way - Christians are back to being persecuted again. Ah well, we were told this would happen. It's just helpful sometimes to point out that the happy feel-good free-thinkers have a mean side too. We're all human, and we're all in this mess together. It'd be nice if we could work together once in a while.
P.S. I am well aware that I have, for much of my life, been in the camp of "Agree with me or face my wrath." This was wrong. I'm sorry if you were a victim. All I can say is I'm trying to do better. I'm now in the camp of "Agree with me or face my wrath for a while until I apologize and wrestle myself into an understanding of where you are coming from, leading to a deeper friendship between us, which is ultimately a move into the Kingdom of God, which is all I was trying for at the beginning anyways."
I've been blessed to have previous experience with this idea at the Chaplains' Centre in the University of Calgary. I got to listen to dialogue between religions that was respectful and loving, (also including common laughter - I suspect this is no coincidence), and it was great. An example is one by Tim Sampson (Buddhist priest), and Philip Behman (Anglican priest). Even though I was invited by Tim (who I'd become friends with), it wasn't to convert me, but instead to promote peace. And that's a Kingdom value. There must be space for us to respect one another. The other core part of this is that peace did not imply any kind of watering down of beliefs. Instead, both Tim and Philip explained their own perspectives, promoting understanding of where one another is coming from as a means to a respectful life together.
John Stackhouse, a Regent prof, was recently quoted in an article by Maclean's, commenting on his opinion of Eckhart Tolle's theology. He was critical of the ideas Tolle presented. Tolle's response was to dismiss him altogether as representative of a fringe Christian who would burn a Muslim over a 5% difference in theology. Now I don't know John well - maybe he burns Muslims on his spare time, but I don't think so. In fact, he teaches Regent's class on World Religions. And having chatted with him, briefly, once, (yes this is my claim to fame and I will milk it for all it's worth), I would say that he has been exactly the opposite. Even a brief chat (ours was on the equality of women and how they have been oppressed) is enough for me to glean that John is deeply sympathetic to the marginalized, a peace-maker, and someone who seeks truth and justice. He doesn't seem likely to hold to his beliefs with a closed fist, but rather engages debate respectfully.
I know Eckhart even less well than I know John, because I haven't read any of his books, nor heard him speak. All I know is he was on Oprah and has started his own tradition of spirituality. So obviously I'm not going to comment on the content of what he says. The manner in which he dismissed John, though, was pretty discouraging for me. I'm a Christian, with a lot of friends who aren't, and I find it really hard sometimes to say what I think for fear of being ostracized. Christians are shunned in our society. It's not cool to love Jesus. You're lumped in with the rednecks. And then people find out I work in harm reduction and they get confused, thinking that I must not be a very faithful Christian. I'd like to say that God invented harm reduction, we just call it "accomodation" in theological circles.
Eckhart's dismissal of criticism demonstrated a scary trend I see among the "open-minded many" - one of mockery and disrespect for Christians. It seems that society has swung the other way - Christians are back to being persecuted again. Ah well, we were told this would happen. It's just helpful sometimes to point out that the happy feel-good free-thinkers have a mean side too. We're all human, and we're all in this mess together. It'd be nice if we could work together once in a while.
P.S. I am well aware that I have, for much of my life, been in the camp of "Agree with me or face my wrath." This was wrong. I'm sorry if you were a victim. All I can say is I'm trying to do better. I'm now in the camp of "Agree with me or face my wrath for a while until I apologize and wrestle myself into an understanding of where you are coming from, leading to a deeper friendship between us, which is ultimately a move into the Kingdom of God, which is all I was trying for at the beginning anyways."
Friday, October 16, 2009
An Opportunity To Participate!
Many of you who know me already, know that I am passionate about incorporating overseas work into life. While my work in Hastings is not easy, it is convenient in the sense that it is local. Far more difficult is to look past the images of buzzing flies on starving land-mine victims and see human beings, and friends.
I am heading out to Angola in May for a little over a month. Four of us from my church are going to Tchincombe, Angola, to build relationships with a little church there that has formed out of a ranching community.
Angola was at civil war from independence to a couple of years ago. Basically, this is the first time the country has had peace in centuries of conflict. The majority of the population is under the age of 16 because all the adults blew themselves up (to put it crudely). Intentional Angolan ranching/farming communities are crucial to teaching kids how to farm - because many of the farmers died in the war. Tchincombe is an Angolan ranch that has started up as a response to the needs that they see around them. HIV/AIDS hasn't been an issue so far because there are so many landmines all over the place that people can't travel to spread the disease. However, now that landmine removal is starting to take place, it is expected that the infection rates for this will skyrocket. The economic disparity between the rich in Angola (off of their oil) and the poor (from landmines, diamond conflicts, and years of civil war) is huge. It's here that I plan to build relationships that will last to future trips and potentially a move there.
The first two weeks we will simply be making friends - living right in Tchincombe rather than in the city's missionary compound, and eating with local Angolans in their homes. We think this is the most important part of what we will be doing in Angola. Each of us has a story, and I believe sharing those stories is part of a larger narrative that God has mandated for Christians. So yes, this is a Christian trip, but it is not intended to convert. In fact, there are more Christians per capita in Angola than in Canada. Instead, this is simply the development of friendships as part of our own belief that following Christ means building relationships and seeing each other as people rather than as starving images on a tv screen. I know I would be incredibly offended to be seen like that, but the truth is that media has shaped the North American view of poverty in Africa this way. I am certain that they will have far more to teach me about the Kingdom of God than I will be able to teach them.
The rest of the trip we will spend working at a hospital. Janess did her nursing degree with me, and she and I plan to do some community nursing as well as acute care nursing. Her husband Eric did development studies with me, and will join in the work as best he can. Luke is a surgical resident who is taking a year off from his residency to do a Master's of Public Health at Harvard. All four of us will be working closely together to not just slap band-aids on people but to see how we can help. Some of my ideas include the formation of educational programs such as HIV prevention, maternal/child nutrition, and mental health awareness. Obviously we won't be implementing any such programs in the short time we are there, but rather looking to see what the needs are and how we can help on future trips.
I am super excited to go to Angola - I've been learning Portuguese as have all the other team members. We're in contact with some people from Angola who we'll be visiting, and they are so encouraging for us to come. I can't wait. We need to raise about $12,000 ourselves. It's been a real blessing that Samaritan's Purse has agreed to tax receipt us even though they aren't sending an SP leader with us.
If you want to donate, you can do so by calling the number below with a credit card and giving them the information provided. Not everyone can afford to donate, (believe me, I know), and I think God will bring the money together. Way more important is your support and encouragement for me. So please don't feel obliged.
Donation info:
Meera
P.S. To all you Awaken folks, please donate into the big pot for the team at church, rather than into my own individual fund. The opportunity to donate will be presented at church.
I am heading out to Angola in May for a little over a month. Four of us from my church are going to Tchincombe, Angola, to build relationships with a little church there that has formed out of a ranching community.
Angola was at civil war from independence to a couple of years ago. Basically, this is the first time the country has had peace in centuries of conflict. The majority of the population is under the age of 16 because all the adults blew themselves up (to put it crudely). Intentional Angolan ranching/farming communities are crucial to teaching kids how to farm - because many of the farmers died in the war. Tchincombe is an Angolan ranch that has started up as a response to the needs that they see around them. HIV/AIDS hasn't been an issue so far because there are so many landmines all over the place that people can't travel to spread the disease. However, now that landmine removal is starting to take place, it is expected that the infection rates for this will skyrocket. The economic disparity between the rich in Angola (off of their oil) and the poor (from landmines, diamond conflicts, and years of civil war) is huge. It's here that I plan to build relationships that will last to future trips and potentially a move there.
The first two weeks we will simply be making friends - living right in Tchincombe rather than in the city's missionary compound, and eating with local Angolans in their homes. We think this is the most important part of what we will be doing in Angola. Each of us has a story, and I believe sharing those stories is part of a larger narrative that God has mandated for Christians. So yes, this is a Christian trip, but it is not intended to convert. In fact, there are more Christians per capita in Angola than in Canada. Instead, this is simply the development of friendships as part of our own belief that following Christ means building relationships and seeing each other as people rather than as starving images on a tv screen. I know I would be incredibly offended to be seen like that, but the truth is that media has shaped the North American view of poverty in Africa this way. I am certain that they will have far more to teach me about the Kingdom of God than I will be able to teach them.
The rest of the trip we will spend working at a hospital. Janess did her nursing degree with me, and she and I plan to do some community nursing as well as acute care nursing. Her husband Eric did development studies with me, and will join in the work as best he can. Luke is a surgical resident who is taking a year off from his residency to do a Master's of Public Health at Harvard. All four of us will be working closely together to not just slap band-aids on people but to see how we can help. Some of my ideas include the formation of educational programs such as HIV prevention, maternal/child nutrition, and mental health awareness. Obviously we won't be implementing any such programs in the short time we are there, but rather looking to see what the needs are and how we can help on future trips.
I am super excited to go to Angola - I've been learning Portuguese as have all the other team members. We're in contact with some people from Angola who we'll be visiting, and they are so encouraging for us to come. I can't wait. We need to raise about $12,000 ourselves. It's been a real blessing that Samaritan's Purse has agreed to tax receipt us even though they aren't sending an SP leader with us.
If you want to donate, you can do so by calling the number below with a credit card and giving them the information provided. Not everyone can afford to donate, (believe me, I know), and I think God will bring the money together. Way more important is your support and encouragement for me. So please don't feel obliged.
Donation info:
1-800-663-6500
Meera Bai
Awaken Angola
FMED-MXB1
083410
Thanks for your interest in my life!! To contact me and talk more about this trip (beware, I will talk your ear off), my email is senorita.bai@gmail.com.Meera Bai
Awaken Angola
FMED-MXB1
083410
Meera
P.S. To all you Awaken folks, please donate into the big pot for the team at church, rather than into my own individual fund. The opportunity to donate will be presented at church.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Why I Love my Job
Somebody asked me why I love my job so much, and whether or not I'd prefer living a comfortable middle-class life.
Honestly, sometimes my answer is that I would prefer the security of a typical suburban life. It would be easy if all I had to worry about was whether the newspaper boy left the paper on the step or on the grass, or even whether or not I could afford a brand new car. It would be easy to marry the investment banker and raise children far away from the margins of society. They could grow up cared for and I could rest in the security of knowing they'll never go hungry.
This temptation has been present since before I recognized it as a temptation. The possibility of settling down has presented itself multiple times, and each time it's been a struggle for me to decide which path to choose. And yet, each time so far, I've chosen against the security. It's possible that this is out of a masochistic desire to keep myself in over my head, but I don't think so.
See, I really love my job. It is the feeling of doing something that you are made to do. I don't mean me personally - I mean that all people are created to help one another, to love each other. To have the freedom to do this so obviously at work is a privilege. And the more love I get to give, the more love it seems I have. Having tasted the freedom that comes with living according to the will of God, every time I consider giving it up, I get anxiety. To me, the "normal" life seems like a cage, forcing me into living for myself instead of having the whole world ahead of me and excitedly hoping for what God will do next. To put it more succinctly, I want to be part of God's story because it is so much more beautiful than any I could write on my own.
Every time I get to have the sleepy vulnerable morning conversations with a patient in their room of their crackhouse; every time someone comes into my office and tells me that this is a sanctuary for them and the only place they feel safe; every time I am privileged to be a shoulder to cry on or a voice to laugh with - I am humbled by how blessed I am. Most Christians have to try hard to make their life missional - my job is inherently so and for this I am grateful. I love living life with my friends on Hastings - and yes, I have made friends here. I am becoming part of their story, just as they are becoming part of mine, and we shape each other immensely.
A patient whose trust took a long time to earn, blearily opened an eye as I hooked up his late night IV antibiotics. This huge, muscly, IV drug user with the tattoes sleepily asked me if I could tuck him in. I did so, and he rolled over. "Thanks for being here. It makes me feel safe." Funny, I was just thinking the same thing. Earning the trust of the biggest guy on the block is valuable especially since I work with no security guards. He'd be the first help I'd yell for. But he meant safe in a different way. Safe from years of physical, emotional, mental, sexual abuse. Safe from fear of me abusing my power over him. Safe because I will check to see if he ODs, and I will make sure he gets his meds even if he is too high to notice - protecting him from himself as best I can. Safe just because somebody cares about him. There is something about the peace of God that transcends words and manifests itself in presence.
I still want a family. But if I don't marry someone who sees his own life missionally and understands my life in the margins, then I would prefer to stay single and expand the concept of family. If I ever end up living just for myself, I will be miserable and life will be pointless. As it stands, I am full of the joy that comes with living through the Holy Spirit. Nothing is worth giving that up.
Honestly, sometimes my answer is that I would prefer the security of a typical suburban life. It would be easy if all I had to worry about was whether the newspaper boy left the paper on the step or on the grass, or even whether or not I could afford a brand new car. It would be easy to marry the investment banker and raise children far away from the margins of society. They could grow up cared for and I could rest in the security of knowing they'll never go hungry.
This temptation has been present since before I recognized it as a temptation. The possibility of settling down has presented itself multiple times, and each time it's been a struggle for me to decide which path to choose. And yet, each time so far, I've chosen against the security. It's possible that this is out of a masochistic desire to keep myself in over my head, but I don't think so.
See, I really love my job. It is the feeling of doing something that you are made to do. I don't mean me personally - I mean that all people are created to help one another, to love each other. To have the freedom to do this so obviously at work is a privilege. And the more love I get to give, the more love it seems I have. Having tasted the freedom that comes with living according to the will of God, every time I consider giving it up, I get anxiety. To me, the "normal" life seems like a cage, forcing me into living for myself instead of having the whole world ahead of me and excitedly hoping for what God will do next. To put it more succinctly, I want to be part of God's story because it is so much more beautiful than any I could write on my own.
Every time I get to have the sleepy vulnerable morning conversations with a patient in their room of their crackhouse; every time someone comes into my office and tells me that this is a sanctuary for them and the only place they feel safe; every time I am privileged to be a shoulder to cry on or a voice to laugh with - I am humbled by how blessed I am. Most Christians have to try hard to make their life missional - my job is inherently so and for this I am grateful. I love living life with my friends on Hastings - and yes, I have made friends here. I am becoming part of their story, just as they are becoming part of mine, and we shape each other immensely.
A patient whose trust took a long time to earn, blearily opened an eye as I hooked up his late night IV antibiotics. This huge, muscly, IV drug user with the tattoes sleepily asked me if I could tuck him in. I did so, and he rolled over. "Thanks for being here. It makes me feel safe." Funny, I was just thinking the same thing. Earning the trust of the biggest guy on the block is valuable especially since I work with no security guards. He'd be the first help I'd yell for. But he meant safe in a different way. Safe from years of physical, emotional, mental, sexual abuse. Safe from fear of me abusing my power over him. Safe because I will check to see if he ODs, and I will make sure he gets his meds even if he is too high to notice - protecting him from himself as best I can. Safe just because somebody cares about him. There is something about the peace of God that transcends words and manifests itself in presence.
I still want a family. But if I don't marry someone who sees his own life missionally and understands my life in the margins, then I would prefer to stay single and expand the concept of family. If I ever end up living just for myself, I will be miserable and life will be pointless. As it stands, I am full of the joy that comes with living through the Holy Spirit. Nothing is worth giving that up.
Sunday, October 04, 2009
An Explanation of John 21:1-17
The importance of context while reading the Bible was highlighted for me by hearing Darrell Johnson's explanation of John 21 (click here to read the chapter). I'll explain what I learned from Darrell in class.
Peter, if you remember, was a fisherman when Jesus called him to be a disciple. Jesus stood at the shore of the Sea of Galilee where Peter was fishing, and told him to come follow. So Peter did. Fast forward to the trial of Jesus, Peter is outside warming his hands on a charcoal fire. The crowd is not pleased with Jesus, and someone thinks Peter looks like one of the disciples. Peter denies knowing Jesus, then denies Him again, and then once more. Then the rooster crows and Peter breaks down, remembering that even Jesus knew Peter's love wouldn't hold past fear.
So then in John 21, we are thrust into Peter's world after the resurrection. All the disciples finally understand the magnitude of what they are dealing with. Peter has been a part of the group so far. But the return of Jesus has showed him just how wrong he was. Ashamed, and afraid, he leaves. Not on a day-long fishing trip, but rather, a return to the career he had before Jesus. Fishing is what he knows, what he's comfortable with. It's all he has left. Some of the disciples decide to go with him.
After a full night of fishing, they haven't caught anything. Peter must be frustrated at this point, he can't do anything right - not even what he was supposed to be good at. Then a man appears on the shore of the lake, calling to them. He tells them where to cast their nets, and they get a huge catch. Someone realizes that it's Jesus. Peter doesn't know what to do or how to react. He gets dressed, but then jumps out of the boat and wades to shore. The rest row the boat in.
Jesus is waiting on the shore. He has built a fire, and is cooking for them. First things first, He serves them food, and they have breakfast together. Then He turns to Peter.
Clearly, Jesus has set this whole thing up for Peter. He goes to find Peter in the place where He first called him - the shore of the Sea of Galilee - knowing that's where he would have gone back to in shame. There, he forces Peter to relive his shame, being served by the one he denied, over a charcoal fire - just like the one Peter warmed his hands over that regretful night.
Peter must surely have thought Jesus was rubbing salt in the wounds. He had every right to, of course, Peter was a hypocrite. But then Jesus asks Peter if Peter loves Him. Peter knows that Jesus knows the answer, and tells Him truthfully that he does. Jesus tells him to come back, to care for the lambs of God. But then Jesus asks again if Peter loves Him. Peter once again answers, confused, and receives the same call by Jesus. So then Jesus asks a third time - and Peter is frustrated. He reminds Jesus that Jesus already knows, and reaffirms his love. Jesus effectively tells him to come back and be a disciple.
Why this confusing and awkwardly repetitive exchange? Because the writer of this gospel wanted to make sure everybody understood. Jesus was bringing Peter back to re-live the worst moments of his life. The charcoal fire, the location, and finally the three questions were all designed to remind listeners of Peter's denial of Jesus. And yet Peter was given a second chance. For every denial of Jesus, he was given a chance to reaffirm his love for Jesus. Jesus sought him out, knowing he was running away, cared for him, showed him he was forgiven, and brought him back. Peter, as we know, grew to be an amazing man. This passage sheds light on his humble beginnings.
What I learned from this chapter is that sometimes it is in our darkest moments that we need to understand the presence of God. The middle times, when we are living a neutral life, we don't remember our need for God as much. We do what we know, and we try to do it well, to tell ourselves that living an ordinary life is good enough. Sometimes God brings us to a place where we are forced to stare our own sins in the face, in order to give us a chance at redemption.
This is why I love class. So much is being explained - and I am being led deeper into right worship through understanding. So beautiful.
Peter, if you remember, was a fisherman when Jesus called him to be a disciple. Jesus stood at the shore of the Sea of Galilee where Peter was fishing, and told him to come follow. So Peter did. Fast forward to the trial of Jesus, Peter is outside warming his hands on a charcoal fire. The crowd is not pleased with Jesus, and someone thinks Peter looks like one of the disciples. Peter denies knowing Jesus, then denies Him again, and then once more. Then the rooster crows and Peter breaks down, remembering that even Jesus knew Peter's love wouldn't hold past fear.
So then in John 21, we are thrust into Peter's world after the resurrection. All the disciples finally understand the magnitude of what they are dealing with. Peter has been a part of the group so far. But the return of Jesus has showed him just how wrong he was. Ashamed, and afraid, he leaves. Not on a day-long fishing trip, but rather, a return to the career he had before Jesus. Fishing is what he knows, what he's comfortable with. It's all he has left. Some of the disciples decide to go with him.
After a full night of fishing, they haven't caught anything. Peter must be frustrated at this point, he can't do anything right - not even what he was supposed to be good at. Then a man appears on the shore of the lake, calling to them. He tells them where to cast their nets, and they get a huge catch. Someone realizes that it's Jesus. Peter doesn't know what to do or how to react. He gets dressed, but then jumps out of the boat and wades to shore. The rest row the boat in.
Jesus is waiting on the shore. He has built a fire, and is cooking for them. First things first, He serves them food, and they have breakfast together. Then He turns to Peter.
Clearly, Jesus has set this whole thing up for Peter. He goes to find Peter in the place where He first called him - the shore of the Sea of Galilee - knowing that's where he would have gone back to in shame. There, he forces Peter to relive his shame, being served by the one he denied, over a charcoal fire - just like the one Peter warmed his hands over that regretful night.
Peter must surely have thought Jesus was rubbing salt in the wounds. He had every right to, of course, Peter was a hypocrite. But then Jesus asks Peter if Peter loves Him. Peter knows that Jesus knows the answer, and tells Him truthfully that he does. Jesus tells him to come back, to care for the lambs of God. But then Jesus asks again if Peter loves Him. Peter once again answers, confused, and receives the same call by Jesus. So then Jesus asks a third time - and Peter is frustrated. He reminds Jesus that Jesus already knows, and reaffirms his love. Jesus effectively tells him to come back and be a disciple.
Why this confusing and awkwardly repetitive exchange? Because the writer of this gospel wanted to make sure everybody understood. Jesus was bringing Peter back to re-live the worst moments of his life. The charcoal fire, the location, and finally the three questions were all designed to remind listeners of Peter's denial of Jesus. And yet Peter was given a second chance. For every denial of Jesus, he was given a chance to reaffirm his love for Jesus. Jesus sought him out, knowing he was running away, cared for him, showed him he was forgiven, and brought him back. Peter, as we know, grew to be an amazing man. This passage sheds light on his humble beginnings.
What I learned from this chapter is that sometimes it is in our darkest moments that we need to understand the presence of God. The middle times, when we are living a neutral life, we don't remember our need for God as much. We do what we know, and we try to do it well, to tell ourselves that living an ordinary life is good enough. Sometimes God brings us to a place where we are forced to stare our own sins in the face, in order to give us a chance at redemption.
This is why I love class. So much is being explained - and I am being led deeper into right worship through understanding. So beautiful.
Thursday, October 01, 2009
Mind + Heart: Development of a New Love for Simple Math
This whole week we've been learning about why there is such a huge chasm between God and people. I've been learning the theology and history behind the idea that God is the essence of good and truth and love in the world, and why sometimes it seems that humans are the only way to experience this and other times we are the farthest thing from it. I have been studying ancient writers, Christian and anti-Christian, reading ancient scripts, hearing from learned scholars. My mind has been full of the academia involved in the separation of God and man, as well as the redemption.
I've never fully understood why God and man are so separated. I understand love, and I understand goodness and hope. I understand that it is God who has shown me all of these things, and because I am loved, so do I love. It is natural, and emotive for me. My experience of God has primarily been a feeling one. Sure I have some general Alpha Course-style understanding of basic principles, but mainly I just know things in my gut, from my interpretation of the Bible, and from hearing people I respect talk about their interpretations of the Bible.
Darrell Johnson said that to most congregations, it is the music played that determines our theology. Most people don't read theology. It's hard to pay attention to a full sermon. But songs - songs are what shape us.
This morning, I was driving in my car, listening to David Crowder's "Wholly Yours." It's a good song, I've learned all the nuances of the music, heard it a hundred times or more. I know all the lyrics, and I sing along, my heart in line with the message of the song. So as I was sitting in traffic, I was kind of singing along, my mind running through the concept of the fall that we had just discussed in class yesterday. All of a sudden, it hit me. I got it for the first time.
God put my mind and my heart together in the context of this song, and the lyrics finally broke through. I had a glimpse of holiness, wholly belonging to holiness, and why that is so unbelievably miraculous given how far I am from being holy, stained with dirt. The contrast between my brokennes and depravity and the redeemed beautiful being I also am hit me hard. I am both of these things, and the hope of the Kingdom is to leave the broken self behind.
What I realize now from this story is the idea of worshiping God with all my mind is connected to worshiping with all my heart, and all my soul, and all my strength. So far, it's been mainly with my heart, and sort of a surface-level mind worship - never with the full capacity of my intellect. Intentionally studying Christ has blessed me in a way that I never expected - putting it all together is incredibly encouraging. It's like that feeling you get when you knew something was a certain way, but you didn't know why it was that way, and nobody else seemed to see it that way - and then somebody explains the science behind it and it all comes together to show you why it indeed was the way you thought. Bringing the mind and heart together is amazing like that, and way less convoluted. And no, I'm not doing it to be a pastor. Regent's mission is actually to educate laypeople in things that we all need to understand - because every Christian is called to live missionally. I'm so glad because this opens doors for me to learn too.
I've never fully understood why God and man are so separated. I understand love, and I understand goodness and hope. I understand that it is God who has shown me all of these things, and because I am loved, so do I love. It is natural, and emotive for me. My experience of God has primarily been a feeling one. Sure I have some general Alpha Course-style understanding of basic principles, but mainly I just know things in my gut, from my interpretation of the Bible, and from hearing people I respect talk about their interpretations of the Bible.
Darrell Johnson said that to most congregations, it is the music played that determines our theology. Most people don't read theology. It's hard to pay attention to a full sermon. But songs - songs are what shape us.
This morning, I was driving in my car, listening to David Crowder's "Wholly Yours." It's a good song, I've learned all the nuances of the music, heard it a hundred times or more. I know all the lyrics, and I sing along, my heart in line with the message of the song. So as I was sitting in traffic, I was kind of singing along, my mind running through the concept of the fall that we had just discussed in class yesterday. All of a sudden, it hit me. I got it for the first time.
God put my mind and my heart together in the context of this song, and the lyrics finally broke through. I had a glimpse of holiness, wholly belonging to holiness, and why that is so unbelievably miraculous given how far I am from being holy, stained with dirt. The contrast between my brokennes and depravity and the redeemed beautiful being I also am hit me hard. I am both of these things, and the hope of the Kingdom is to leave the broken self behind.
What I realize now from this story is the idea of worshiping God with all my mind is connected to worshiping with all my heart, and all my soul, and all my strength. So far, it's been mainly with my heart, and sort of a surface-level mind worship - never with the full capacity of my intellect. Intentionally studying Christ has blessed me in a way that I never expected - putting it all together is incredibly encouraging. It's like that feeling you get when you knew something was a certain way, but you didn't know why it was that way, and nobody else seemed to see it that way - and then somebody explains the science behind it and it all comes together to show you why it indeed was the way you thought. Bringing the mind and heart together is amazing like that, and way less convoluted. And no, I'm not doing it to be a pastor. Regent's mission is actually to educate laypeople in things that we all need to understand - because every Christian is called to live missionally. I'm so glad because this opens doors for me to learn too.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
The False Dichotomy Between Academia and Emotion
I have so many papers to write this weekend it's overwhelming. Procrastination is a trait that I have perfected through the endless years of school, so here I am, showing off this fine skill.
One of the papers I have to write is a reflective paper - how does God's story show through my story? Basically, it is a short biography or a long admissions essay, with a focus on knowing myself and knowing God. I was surprised when I received this assignment. Amidst the 6500-word research papers and the 800-page readings, the concept of a reflective paper has overtones of nursing school fluff that initially turned me off. This is a graduate school. Why is this relevant?
As I was musing over this (again, a solid way of procrastinating), my mind wandered to one of my professors, Darrell Johnson. On our very first day of the Pastoral Care class, he told us about his son's recent suicide and his own pain in going through this time. As tears streamed down his face, he humbly used his experience to help us understand that caring for somebody means walking with them where they are at, and allowing them to be who they need to be. Rather than put himself in the position of lordly teacher, he exemplified the need for us to understand real pastoral care - and to care for him. Now some people would criticize this as being unprofessional. Surely a man as educated as he would be able to overcome his own issues and teach this class using appropriate terminology and impartial analysis of the epistles. Instead, he chose to open himself up, and let his weakness be known. Because after all, what we are learning is not how to read textbooks - it is how to live out love.
Another professor, Ross Hastings, in our missional church class last week told us that it was the one year anniversary of his wife's passing. He said he'd already had a good cry, so he was unlikely to cry in class, but in case he started, he asked that we be understanding. Then he proceeded with the lecture. These professors want us to know that they are human. They relate in human ways, rather than being some voice behind a podium. They share their stories with us in order that we can know them not as a source of information, but as a person. They base their credibility not only on their superb academia but also on their integrity. Although they could easily get away with huge respect based solely on their theological works, they want us to understand that respect comes not just from what you have accomplished, but from who you are. It is beautiful.
And so with that, I guess I can understand the importance of this self-reflective piece. Not only is it important for my profs to know who I am, but also for me to know. Already through my writing I have had my eyes opened to learn more about how God is working in my story. Even though I feel a little bit like Rosencrantz and Guildenstern in Stoppard's work, the little insight I do receive about my past shapes who I become. And that is worth putting in the effort for.
With that being said, I better get back to it. At the very least, it would be embarrassing to fail a reflective paper.
One of the papers I have to write is a reflective paper - how does God's story show through my story? Basically, it is a short biography or a long admissions essay, with a focus on knowing myself and knowing God. I was surprised when I received this assignment. Amidst the 6500-word research papers and the 800-page readings, the concept of a reflective paper has overtones of nursing school fluff that initially turned me off. This is a graduate school. Why is this relevant?
As I was musing over this (again, a solid way of procrastinating), my mind wandered to one of my professors, Darrell Johnson. On our very first day of the Pastoral Care class, he told us about his son's recent suicide and his own pain in going through this time. As tears streamed down his face, he humbly used his experience to help us understand that caring for somebody means walking with them where they are at, and allowing them to be who they need to be. Rather than put himself in the position of lordly teacher, he exemplified the need for us to understand real pastoral care - and to care for him. Now some people would criticize this as being unprofessional. Surely a man as educated as he would be able to overcome his own issues and teach this class using appropriate terminology and impartial analysis of the epistles. Instead, he chose to open himself up, and let his weakness be known. Because after all, what we are learning is not how to read textbooks - it is how to live out love.
Another professor, Ross Hastings, in our missional church class last week told us that it was the one year anniversary of his wife's passing. He said he'd already had a good cry, so he was unlikely to cry in class, but in case he started, he asked that we be understanding. Then he proceeded with the lecture. These professors want us to know that they are human. They relate in human ways, rather than being some voice behind a podium. They share their stories with us in order that we can know them not as a source of information, but as a person. They base their credibility not only on their superb academia but also on their integrity. Although they could easily get away with huge respect based solely on their theological works, they want us to understand that respect comes not just from what you have accomplished, but from who you are. It is beautiful.
And so with that, I guess I can understand the importance of this self-reflective piece. Not only is it important for my profs to know who I am, but also for me to know. Already through my writing I have had my eyes opened to learn more about how God is working in my story. Even though I feel a little bit like Rosencrantz and Guildenstern in Stoppard's work, the little insight I do receive about my past shapes who I become. And that is worth putting in the effort for.
With that being said, I better get back to it. At the very least, it would be embarrassing to fail a reflective paper.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Asking Questions
Anyone who knows me even a little, has probably already been faced with my propensity to ask questions - lots of them. It's a little bit overwhelming for the people in my life, and believe me, I sympathize. But if you only knew how many questions I have that I don't ask, you would be amazed.
Being in lectures at Regent has been good for me to ponder things internally rather than asking every poor soul who happens to be the first to bring up a new idea for me. Every day, multiple times a lecture, I learn something new which shakes up my old theology and forces me to question. Not just to question, but to actually change if I find my old theology to be false. This is not easy for me. Change for me comes by digging my heels in, gritting my teeth, and being dragged forcefully through the dirt by a much stronger being. It is difficult at best.
Fortunately for me, the professors at Regent teach critical thinking by example. After every Christian Thought and Culture lecture (one of the core courses all new students take), three or four (or five) profs get up there and challenge the ideas presented, question the presenting professor, and jovially bicker over their differences. It's done in a fun, bantering sort of way rather than the way of differing that has led to bitter divisions and (dare I say) multiple denominations. Here, denominations are delineated by whether you agree with Rikk (Watts) or Hans (Boersma) in their criticism of Iain (Provan)'s lecture. The disputes are not bitter, but they are passionate in their equally separate convictions. And above all, they display an amazing unity amidst the differences that astounds me. For Iain to get up and teach with authority on how the verse "calls me home" in the song "How Great Thou Art" is actually a Gnostic view and heretical, and then Ross (Hastings) to stand and challenge him on that with equal authority (and emotion - openly admitting that his wife recently passed), and then Hans and Rikk all to continue the discussions back and forth - this is what it means to be united and yet work through differences in one's faith with love and community.
In their seemingly infinite wisdom (did I say that?), the Regent profs are surprisingly open to student teasing and challenge, believing that God speaks through everyone. Darrell Johnson made a comment in my Pastoral Care class today that "It is not life experience, but cross experience, that qualifies us to share in Christ's mission." This is lived out at Regent. To continue the CTC class example, after the profs have thoroughly picked on the speaker of the day (a fellow prof), the students are encouraged to continue, with microphones set up throughout the classroom for this purpose. Obviously, it is usually the more informed students that ask questions. Somehow to ask a simple question after another prof set the bar by asking an in-depth theological discussion seems to be a bad idea. Having had very little theological training myself, I generally sit back and keep my questions to myself, assuming that eventually I'll learn the answers to them and pray to God for pity's sake please don't let me humiliate myself and display my ignorance.
Sometimes, though, God uses one vice to overcome another. My insatiable urge to ask questions found me standing in front of a microphone today with absolutely no idea how I got there, stepping all over my pride and fear of looking stupid (yes, there absolutely are stupid questions). In the split second before the "speak or sit down" look on Iain's face prompted me to open my mouth, it registered in my brain that here I was, the epitome of the uneducatedly well-meaning Christian, in front of 4 incredibly intelligent and knowledgeable professors, wasting their time. Shoot.
My question was a simple one, about what Iain thought of the concept of resident aliens discussed in 1 Peter and expounded on by Hauerwas - something I still don't fully understand but was fairly certain contradicted Iain's counter-gnostic idea of our home not being elsewhere but right here on earth. I just wanted to know what he thought. His answer was really excellent, highlighting the tension between the now and the not yet, and to be honest, although I wrote it down, it will probably take me years to get to the understanding that he displayed. But that's not the point of this story. The point is that I learned that even somebody who doesn't know much, can still contribute somehow.
After class, many students came up and thanked me for asking something that they were all thinking. In my self-focus, I forgot that most people here are new too - and my fear totally waylaid the truth that if you have a question, probably somebody else does too. Not only that, but Rikk - who I hadn't actually met yet - told me that it was an excellent question (Rikk Watts knows who I am!!! Hahahaha). No doubt more senior Regent students will laugh at this - the informality between professors and students is very real here and everybody is on a first-name basis. But for me, it's a big deal, because they're all smarter than I am and there are a lot of students - to be noticed means that I must be on the right track in questioning (or else very, very wrong...).
Still more importantly, a couple of students approached me to continue the discussion started in class, and then Ross joined in the discussion as well - in an informal context. It was then that I realized these moments where all of us are engaged in a passionate back-and-forth about our faith with an underlying love - these moments are taught to us by example. We were carrying out what the profs started in class. And this is not to be kept to an academic context, either. I am learning first-hand about how to disagree with some of the beliefs of the hypothetical church down the street, passionately hold to my own, and still love and work together in unity.
All of this sort of ties into the question of whether or not denominations are appropriate in the Church, one that I have been wrestling with for quite a while. My ideas are slowly forming - expect a future post on this by the end of the year.
I just love how much I'm learning here at Regent - theologically, practically, and spiritually. I can see why everyone told me that I'd come for a year but I'd stay for the full Master's degree. Don't worry, I'm still coming home, but maybe I'll come back again one day to finish... who knows.
Being in lectures at Regent has been good for me to ponder things internally rather than asking every poor soul who happens to be the first to bring up a new idea for me. Every day, multiple times a lecture, I learn something new which shakes up my old theology and forces me to question. Not just to question, but to actually change if I find my old theology to be false. This is not easy for me. Change for me comes by digging my heels in, gritting my teeth, and being dragged forcefully through the dirt by a much stronger being. It is difficult at best.
Fortunately for me, the professors at Regent teach critical thinking by example. After every Christian Thought and Culture lecture (one of the core courses all new students take), three or four (or five) profs get up there and challenge the ideas presented, question the presenting professor, and jovially bicker over their differences. It's done in a fun, bantering sort of way rather than the way of differing that has led to bitter divisions and (dare I say) multiple denominations. Here, denominations are delineated by whether you agree with Rikk (Watts) or Hans (Boersma) in their criticism of Iain (Provan)'s lecture. The disputes are not bitter, but they are passionate in their equally separate convictions. And above all, they display an amazing unity amidst the differences that astounds me. For Iain to get up and teach with authority on how the verse "calls me home" in the song "How Great Thou Art" is actually a Gnostic view and heretical, and then Ross (Hastings) to stand and challenge him on that with equal authority (and emotion - openly admitting that his wife recently passed), and then Hans and Rikk all to continue the discussions back and forth - this is what it means to be united and yet work through differences in one's faith with love and community.
In their seemingly infinite wisdom (did I say that?), the Regent profs are surprisingly open to student teasing and challenge, believing that God speaks through everyone. Darrell Johnson made a comment in my Pastoral Care class today that "It is not life experience, but cross experience, that qualifies us to share in Christ's mission." This is lived out at Regent. To continue the CTC class example, after the profs have thoroughly picked on the speaker of the day (a fellow prof), the students are encouraged to continue, with microphones set up throughout the classroom for this purpose. Obviously, it is usually the more informed students that ask questions. Somehow to ask a simple question after another prof set the bar by asking an in-depth theological discussion seems to be a bad idea. Having had very little theological training myself, I generally sit back and keep my questions to myself, assuming that eventually I'll learn the answers to them and pray to God for pity's sake please don't let me humiliate myself and display my ignorance.
Sometimes, though, God uses one vice to overcome another. My insatiable urge to ask questions found me standing in front of a microphone today with absolutely no idea how I got there, stepping all over my pride and fear of looking stupid (yes, there absolutely are stupid questions). In the split second before the "speak or sit down" look on Iain's face prompted me to open my mouth, it registered in my brain that here I was, the epitome of the uneducatedly well-meaning Christian, in front of 4 incredibly intelligent and knowledgeable professors, wasting their time. Shoot.
My question was a simple one, about what Iain thought of the concept of resident aliens discussed in 1 Peter and expounded on by Hauerwas - something I still don't fully understand but was fairly certain contradicted Iain's counter-gnostic idea of our home not being elsewhere but right here on earth. I just wanted to know what he thought. His answer was really excellent, highlighting the tension between the now and the not yet, and to be honest, although I wrote it down, it will probably take me years to get to the understanding that he displayed. But that's not the point of this story. The point is that I learned that even somebody who doesn't know much, can still contribute somehow.
After class, many students came up and thanked me for asking something that they were all thinking. In my self-focus, I forgot that most people here are new too - and my fear totally waylaid the truth that if you have a question, probably somebody else does too. Not only that, but Rikk - who I hadn't actually met yet - told me that it was an excellent question (Rikk Watts knows who I am!!! Hahahaha). No doubt more senior Regent students will laugh at this - the informality between professors and students is very real here and everybody is on a first-name basis. But for me, it's a big deal, because they're all smarter than I am and there are a lot of students - to be noticed means that I must be on the right track in questioning (or else very, very wrong...).
Still more importantly, a couple of students approached me to continue the discussion started in class, and then Ross joined in the discussion as well - in an informal context. It was then that I realized these moments where all of us are engaged in a passionate back-and-forth about our faith with an underlying love - these moments are taught to us by example. We were carrying out what the profs started in class. And this is not to be kept to an academic context, either. I am learning first-hand about how to disagree with some of the beliefs of the hypothetical church down the street, passionately hold to my own, and still love and work together in unity.
All of this sort of ties into the question of whether or not denominations are appropriate in the Church, one that I have been wrestling with for quite a while. My ideas are slowly forming - expect a future post on this by the end of the year.
I just love how much I'm learning here at Regent - theologically, practically, and spiritually. I can see why everyone told me that I'd come for a year but I'd stay for the full Master's degree. Don't worry, I'm still coming home, but maybe I'll come back again one day to finish... who knows.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Lobster Lovin'
Here's some comic relief:
CBC News online reported a story about how lobster fishermen calling to ask about a financial assistance package accidentally stumbled across a phone sex line rather than the government hotline. The government swears it was a typo. Setting aside the realm of possible dirty jokes regarding lobster stimulus packages, the Fisheries spokesman from Ottawa gravely mentioned that there had been no complaints. Shocking.
As an aside, if this article made you curious about how lobsters mate, they are apparently very tender lovers, according to the Gulf of Maine Research Institute.
CBC News online reported a story about how lobster fishermen calling to ask about a financial assistance package accidentally stumbled across a phone sex line rather than the government hotline. The government swears it was a typo. Setting aside the realm of possible dirty jokes regarding lobster stimulus packages, the Fisheries spokesman from Ottawa gravely mentioned that there had been no complaints. Shocking.
As an aside, if this article made you curious about how lobsters mate, they are apparently very tender lovers, according to the Gulf of Maine Research Institute.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Another Bus Story
Here is a second bus story; this time it's late, after work.
Be warned, I wrote the language exactly as I heard it, and described exactly as I saw it, so it's not easy on the eyes or the heart - it's graphic and vulgar and shocking. But if you can strengthen yourself to look past that, there is some residual beauty left. I don't really know what to make of it, whether to be depressed or unrealistically optimistic. All I know is that it is what it is, and regardless of how anybody acts, I desperately want to be able to love them. No, it definitely does not come naturally. Processing this is a part of learning how.
PM bus: It is a different world at night.
The fact that there is any beauty remaining, provides a mustard seed of hope. Maybe it's not about changing lives, or massive redemption - maybe it's about walking alongside people where they're at. Even just being there, day after day, going from avoiding eye contact, to quick glances, to a smile, to hello, to a brief chat, to opening up to one another, to friendship - maybe this is what it means to be a Christian in the world. This perspective sometimes makes me impatient - like a movie that doesn't end with "happily ever after" but goes on to detail the years and years of marriage. Yet the marriage is beautiful too, in it's own way. I am learning to change my perspective of beauty, and this is bringing me renewed hope each day.
Be warned, I wrote the language exactly as I heard it, and described exactly as I saw it, so it's not easy on the eyes or the heart - it's graphic and vulgar and shocking. But if you can strengthen yourself to look past that, there is some residual beauty left. I don't really know what to make of it, whether to be depressed or unrealistically optimistic. All I know is that it is what it is, and regardless of how anybody acts, I desperately want to be able to love them. No, it definitely does not come naturally. Processing this is a part of learning how.
PM bus: It is a different world at night.
Neon pink and orange from the porn shop illuminates the bus stop where I wait at night. "Naked Ladies Here" flashes at me from the bar across the street, a strobe light to which at least fifty people in between are dancing to. High on whatever can be found, whatever can be bought, this is bliss. Nobody wants to remember. I stand alone at the stop, surrounded by extremes of drug-induced emotion. I am safer than most of the people here. If one harasses me, ten more will appear out of nowhere. "Shit, dude, she's a nurse, didn't you see her working? She was here all day, they have fucking 12 hour shifts. Don't fuck with 'em, they're just tryin' to help." Am I trying to help? I don't even know sometimes. It's glory I don't deserve because I just want to go home. My bus ride isn't "work," I just want to get away.I expected it to be hard, not to sink into depression. And yet, despite these stories, and the times that I have spent weeping for the people I work with, there is always something beautiful to be seen. A quick glimpse, like I've provided, can bring waves of despair unless you contextualize it properly. Hope comes with time, with patience, and with relationships.
A girl urgently stumbles closer to a pockmarked man swaying near me. Her threadbare coat is open, revealing a tiny bikini draped loosely over the flaps of skin her breasts have wasted to. Her ribs protrude through her tiny frame, and her spasm of coughing sends adrenaline through me as I wonder what I would do if she died, right here, in front of me. Instead she grabs the man's arm. "You gotta want me. You gotta want me. I need dope, man. It's not fucking fair for you to be high alone. Come on. You don't need a wrapper with me, I swear I'm clean, I'm fucking clean."
He looks at her gaunt, faded, figure. With stained teeth, he tells her what he thinks of her. "You disgusting cunt. You ain't even got a cunt no more, you're just disgusting. You're not worth the shit that comes out of my ass. I'll give you some of that to smoke." He laughs loudly at his own joke, while she furtively looks around, begging. "Come on, man, I'll do anything. I blow for blow. Right here, look, you don't even have to move."
She starts unzipping him as I panic, wondering how I can possibly give them privacy when they stand not three feet away. I look around - transactions are happening all around me. Drug-drug, sex-drug, cash-drug. I stare at the ground, helpless to do anything but pray. In less than a minute, this particular exchange is over, and she wipes her face. He starts to walk away as she screeches at him to pay up. As he's walking, he drops a tiny bag of powder on the ground. She lunges for it, but he turns around and kicks her in the face like a dog, layering the bruises. She swears at him and grabs the bag, but he has already begun urinating on it, on her.
The bus comes, and drowns out her anger, my tears. I get on, desperate to escape, asking God how in this hell I am supposed to live here, be a part of this world, accept it, and still love all of the people involved. I do not love this place. But maybe that's because I really love the people. I can't make up my mind but I am tired and sad and right now I want to leave. A shot rings out as I board the bus, and I instinctively duck. Through the bus window, I see everyone take off running. Three cops saunter across the street, where a body - somebody - lies twitching. Just another drug deal gone wrong. Two of them are even joking with one another. I am so lost - what am I doing here? How do I help without losing my soul to grief or to callousness? Where is the balance between not caring and caring too much?
As the bus moves on, I hear sirens in the distance. One of the guys has boarded with me in his high; his attempt to escape has brought him alongside mine. His head lolls on his shoulders. A few blocks away, back in the "real" world, a group of seniors gets on. The bus is already almost full. I stand and give up my seat, and so does the guy who got on at my stop - we are the only two who do so. He sways, nearly falls, but catches himself at the last second. Then he looks around through the haze, and shouts "Aren't you fuckin people gonna get up for these fine gentlemen, these classy ladies? Jesus fucking Christ Almighty would! Shit! Don't you have any decency?" He gets off the bus, stumbling down the street. I find myself holding back a chuckle, and I feel better. JfCA has a following here too.
The fact that there is any beauty remaining, provides a mustard seed of hope. Maybe it's not about changing lives, or massive redemption - maybe it's about walking alongside people where they're at. Even just being there, day after day, going from avoiding eye contact, to quick glances, to a smile, to hello, to a brief chat, to opening up to one another, to friendship - maybe this is what it means to be a Christian in the world. This perspective sometimes makes me impatient - like a movie that doesn't end with "happily ever after" but goes on to detail the years and years of marriage. Yet the marriage is beautiful too, in it's own way. I am learning to change my perspective of beauty, and this is bringing me renewed hope each day.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Moving out of the Garden
I step away,
on my break from the world.
Half-an-hour of the expectation to forget,
tremors and sweat and dizzy laughter,
sardonic remarks and pupils constricted,
blocking the window to their souls.
I step away.
Two blocks away.
Tourists, sunshine, beauty, architecture.
The classical Chinese garden beckons me in.
Flawless landscaping, it is uncomfortably perfect.
Clearly, the designer is talented.
I step away,
For the couple and their camera.
Lilies are shoved aside as a turtle makes it's way.
"It's ruining the picture!"
A diamond or a flash on her finger as she whines.
I look at the turtle.
For the first time in half-an-hour, I don't feel so alone.
I step away.
Back to chaos and boundaries,
back to sorrow laughed over dingy walls,
shoddy supplies, re-used gloves
the best we can do.
Back to the comfortably imperfect.
Clearly, the Designer is talented.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
A Bus Story from the #20 Downtown/Hastings
I wouldn't write about work even if I could. The relationships I am building and the trust that I fight to earn are far too valuable to risk. And they are beautiful, in their messiness.
What I can do, however, is write about my bus rides. Anonymous glimpses into the world around me help me to better understand the people I work with and where they are coming from - and my daily bus ride down Hastings Street to work and back provides countless stories. I have only been here a short time and already I know to bring tissue with me to dab at the silent tears - from heartbreak and from hope.
So I will try to occasionally share my "bus stories," brief windows into the world through my eyes.
AM bus: The calm ride of the day.
What I can do, however, is write about my bus rides. Anonymous glimpses into the world around me help me to better understand the people I work with and where they are coming from - and my daily bus ride down Hastings Street to work and back provides countless stories. I have only been here a short time and already I know to bring tissue with me to dab at the silent tears - from heartbreak and from hope.
So I will try to occasionally share my "bus stories," brief windows into the world through my eyes.
AM bus: The calm ride of the day.
A little girl gets on, holding the hand of a man who looks too young to be her dad, but brave and with a compassionate face. I know his look - it is one of somebody who grew up fast and has been forced to equip himself to deal with the world around him. He is a warrior of his tribe. She doesn't yet have this look. What she has are bruises - all over her face and what can be seen of her arms under her pink t-shirt. There are some scratches across her eyes that I notice when she blinks. I look at her and wonder how she will hide her scars one day, inside and out. She trusts the young man, though, and sits close.
A woman across from them twitches. She has been talking to herself the entire trip, varying in volume, occasionally licking the pole beside her. Strings of saliva mixed with dirt mar her cheeks. Her pupils are constricted and she is racing in her own world. The woman leans forward with a strange look on her face, and loudly asks the little girl "What happened to your face?" The girl tucks her face in behind the man's arm. The woman has already jumped back into her own world, and is talking to herself again.
Shyly, after a while, the little girl interrupts. "My momma beat me because I was bad." The woman stops, and looks at her. "Doug's taking me to the doctor." The young man has a set face, a muscle in his jaw jumping. He is trying not to cry. The woman looks at him. "What are you living for?" she shouts, spraying saliva everywhere. His eyes widen at the strangeness of her question, then he looks down and mumbles "I'm gonna go back to school. Want to be a social worker."
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
Regent Orientation
Rod Wilson, Regent College's Big Kahuna, gave us an opening speech at orientation about the history of Regent. I was expecting to be bored - having heard various leaders from various educational/health care institutions speak, I knew enough to tune out the self-promoting garbage and just listen for what would be relevant to me. To my great surprise, Dr. Wilson was the complete opposite of what I was expecting. He was a lot like Wendy from the CPCC, actually. You can tell by hearing him speak that he is far more intelligent than most leaders, and that his keen understanding cuts right to the meat of what he is trying to say without making it seem rehearsed. He made a lot of jokes, most of them about himself, and submitted with good humor to the fact that he was introduced as a potential sugar daddy. I had a fleeting image of him on his hands and knees in the kitchen of the CPCC, washing the floor.
These images of leadership set the tone for what kind of leader I want to be. I laugh at the fact that when my pastor Scott told someone in a bar that he worked at a church, they assumed he was the janitor, but I'm also proud of that. He isn't set above, on some pedestal - he's just another member of the church. Servant leadership is something the staff at the CPCC drilled into me, and I completely believe that it is true. Dr. Wilson told us about his friendship with the caretaker at Regent as a reminder that there is little difference between their roles, in the eyes of the Lord. Sure, one gets more glamour, but really they're both working towards the same end.
Dr. Wilson's emphasis on the equality of importance in roles not to be self-deprecating, or even to highlight servant leadership, but to point out Regent's primary role as training laity. Rather than calling themselves a seminary, Regent is a Christian graduate school - because they don't want to be seen as pumping out pastors. They cater to people like me - who don't want a career as clergy but want to be better educated in Christianity so that I can apply my faith in whatever I do. Coming from a Brethren background, Regent holds to the truth that ministry shouldn't just be left up to ministers - every person who calls themselves a Christian is required to live it out in every aspect of their lives. Dr. Wilson also didn't try to hype up Regent pride - in fact, he told us the story of how Regent got it's name. "Well, it's memorable, short, and doesn't mean anything." Once the laughter died down, he said: "No, really. You infuse a term with meaning, you don't let the term define you."
Near the end of his speech, he tackled the issue of women in ministry - which surprised me, as it didn't seem to fit with the rest of what he was talking about. He said that students and staff are all allowed and in fact encouraged to hold different positions and learn to work together with respect on gender issues. "Our desire is not uniformity, but unity." However, any professor who wishes to teach graduate courses is required to believe that women can be ordained, to avoid conflict of interest, as everyone who completes the MDiv program is expected to become ordained regardless of gender. He acknowledged that not all students studying to be a pastor would be okay with having female students study with them. Then his voice took on a hard edge: "We are not a school that is going to capitulate to your position." I blinked, and it was over, he was on to lighter topics. I personally have been struggling with how to accept other peoples' points of view on this topic while still protecting women in leadership, so I appreciated Dr. Wilson's inclusion of this side note in his speech.
Of course, that solidified in my mind that I will be encouraged to thrive here at Regent. I was very impressed by Dr. Wilson - and I'm usually far quicker to criticize than I am to encourage. I can't wait to start my classes and dive into a better understanding of faith, church, and people. After hearing Dr. Wilson, I was so relieved - this is a place I will be fed. So excited for what is to come!
These images of leadership set the tone for what kind of leader I want to be. I laugh at the fact that when my pastor Scott told someone in a bar that he worked at a church, they assumed he was the janitor, but I'm also proud of that. He isn't set above, on some pedestal - he's just another member of the church. Servant leadership is something the staff at the CPCC drilled into me, and I completely believe that it is true. Dr. Wilson told us about his friendship with the caretaker at Regent as a reminder that there is little difference between their roles, in the eyes of the Lord. Sure, one gets more glamour, but really they're both working towards the same end.
Dr. Wilson's emphasis on the equality of importance in roles not to be self-deprecating, or even to highlight servant leadership, but to point out Regent's primary role as training laity. Rather than calling themselves a seminary, Regent is a Christian graduate school - because they don't want to be seen as pumping out pastors. They cater to people like me - who don't want a career as clergy but want to be better educated in Christianity so that I can apply my faith in whatever I do. Coming from a Brethren background, Regent holds to the truth that ministry shouldn't just be left up to ministers - every person who calls themselves a Christian is required to live it out in every aspect of their lives. Dr. Wilson also didn't try to hype up Regent pride - in fact, he told us the story of how Regent got it's name. "Well, it's memorable, short, and doesn't mean anything." Once the laughter died down, he said: "No, really. You infuse a term with meaning, you don't let the term define you."
Near the end of his speech, he tackled the issue of women in ministry - which surprised me, as it didn't seem to fit with the rest of what he was talking about. He said that students and staff are all allowed and in fact encouraged to hold different positions and learn to work together with respect on gender issues. "Our desire is not uniformity, but unity." However, any professor who wishes to teach graduate courses is required to believe that women can be ordained, to avoid conflict of interest, as everyone who completes the MDiv program is expected to become ordained regardless of gender. He acknowledged that not all students studying to be a pastor would be okay with having female students study with them. Then his voice took on a hard edge: "We are not a school that is going to capitulate to your position." I blinked, and it was over, he was on to lighter topics. I personally have been struggling with how to accept other peoples' points of view on this topic while still protecting women in leadership, so I appreciated Dr. Wilson's inclusion of this side note in his speech.
Of course, that solidified in my mind that I will be encouraged to thrive here at Regent. I was very impressed by Dr. Wilson - and I'm usually far quicker to criticize than I am to encourage. I can't wait to start my classes and dive into a better understanding of faith, church, and people. After hearing Dr. Wilson, I was so relieved - this is a place I will be fed. So excited for what is to come!
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Musings on the Option of Clothing
I spent a perfect day running through trees and over creeks, darting through bushes past spiderwebs and dodging bumblebees. When I imagine heaven, it looks a lot like the Endowment Lands. With 78 km of trail through lush rainforest, old growth trees, and clothing optional beaches, you can't go wrong.
Haha, okay, so maybe my vision of heaven doesn't include old naked men offering me a massage (and when I refused, offering weed to loosen me up). From what I understand though, creepers like that are actually an anomaly that nud
ists are striving to get rid of. The beach is not intended to be sexual, but instead a liberation of sorts. And to be fair, it was. From children to seniors, at least half of the bums on the beach were bared - and nobody cared. As a nurse, I've seen plenty of nakedness, but I will admit I still used my sunglasses to hide occasional embarrassed glances. Not in a pervy way - the guy asleep near me was definitely sunburning his testicles. The nurse in me wanted to speak up, but what do you say? "Excuse me sir... I believe your balls are burning." There's a situation I never thought I'd find myself in.When I went to Cuba, I was embarrassed to be seen in a bikini. For like the first five minutes before I realized everyone was wearing them and I got over myself. The reason I was embarrassed was because my body isn't perfect - stretch marks, love handles, jiggles and weird bumps - I've got it all. For
some reason (*ahem**media*) I forgot that everyone else has those too. It's what makes us human, it proves I'm real flesh, not a glossy airbrushed mind game. And over time, I've come to the realization that not only is my body acceptable, it's actually beautiful. While out for coffee with my friend Helen before I left, she reminded me that women are human twice refined, the pinnacle of creation. Now I don't think it matters where we came from or which gender is better - I firmly hold to the truth that women and men are equal. But male or female, my body was made by God. In the translation of Meera, "And He saw that it was [good] frickin sweet. Didn't change a thing."There is definit
ely something liberating about nudity though. I love being naked - just not while anybody else is around, haha. And if when the Kingdom of God comes there will be no clothes, should we be trying to move towards a nudist approach, where we look past the skin into the person inside? Yeah, I'm rocking the boat a little but I also think there is something beautiful about seeing a grandpa and a little toddler wading naked in the shallows together catching minnows. Maybe I inhaled too much secondhand weed and the hippie in me is rejoicing, but amidst the weirdness, there is some grain of truth hidden out of context. I wonder how it will blossom once it has been redeemed.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Camels in Needles
I was chatting the other day with one of my mentors about how excited I am that I appear to have a future in overseas work. For me, I see the chance to work in Africa as an opportunity I'm thrilled about, as opposed to a duty or an obligation. I am so filled with joy about it and I can't understand why some people would rather settle with the typical "graduate, get a job, get a house, get married" timeline. This is of course not counting those people who actively minister here in everything they do, or who intentionally keep God front and centre. I'm talking about people who just want stability and security, not the ones who choose to live and work here in order to bring God's Kingdom about where they are.
Wendy gave me a long look, and then she slapped me. Not literally. But she said something to me that really rocked my boat and humbled me. She pointed out what we both know - I have not had an easy time of growing up, and I haven't had the stable family security cushioning my existence. For me, up and leaving to Africa is not difficult. Sure there are some scary things about it, but I don't have strong ties that bind me here. Leaving for Cameroon was not super easy but my friends still kept in touch, and it wasn't that bad.
There are people here with amazingly deep family connections that run for generations through living water. There are people who have never been forced out into the world on their own, who have been blessed with security and comfort in their lives. For them, leaving to work overseas means far more than for me - it means distancing themselves from the life they have been privileged to live. It is a far greater jump than I have ever had to make, and I have no right to judge them.
Put simply, I don't have as much to lose.
I thought about this for quite a while, and realized that she is right. I do get frustrated with people who don't step outside themselves, and through it I've subconsciously developed this self-righteousness about it. If I can do it, anyone can - so why don't they? The lack of aid workers has always disappointed me. The lack of reception among my friends has frustrated me as well - usually I am the crazy "development studies" person, and they see it as my career rather than my faith and being. This bothers me.
So on my drive out to Vancouver, I spent some time discussing this with God. The last little while I've seen the passion that a few of us had for Angola spread through our church like wildfire, not consuming our work in Bowness but adding to it. It has been so incredibly encouraging for me.
I am in a place where I have the most security that I have ever had. I have an unbelievable amount of people who love me as family, and leaving has helped me to realize that. I have a church that I deeply love and am committed to. I have two of the best friends in the world - we joke about being married, but they are family to me. And all of a sudden yesterday, I realized that leaving hurts that much more. I cried until Banff. It may sound pathetic, but the people in my life mean everything to me. All the separation anxiety came out and I almost turned the car around. But I didn't. I knew what I was called to do and where I was called to go, and with the grace of God, He kept me going.
Here in Vancouver, I understand better that the more you have, the harder it is to lose it all and still remain faithful. The difficulty is that having those ties doesn't give us an excuse to not go. I will still push people to develop passion for people around them and step outside their comfort zones. The difference is that I will be more understanding of the sacrifice they make as they go.
Wendy gave me a long look, and then she slapped me. Not literally. But she said something to me that really rocked my boat and humbled me. She pointed out what we both know - I have not had an easy time of growing up, and I haven't had the stable family security cushioning my existence. For me, up and leaving to Africa is not difficult. Sure there are some scary things about it, but I don't have strong ties that bind me here. Leaving for Cameroon was not super easy but my friends still kept in touch, and it wasn't that bad.
There are people here with amazingly deep family connections that run for generations through living water. There are people who have never been forced out into the world on their own, who have been blessed with security and comfort in their lives. For them, leaving to work overseas means far more than for me - it means distancing themselves from the life they have been privileged to live. It is a far greater jump than I have ever had to make, and I have no right to judge them.
Put simply, I don't have as much to lose.
I thought about this for quite a while, and realized that she is right. I do get frustrated with people who don't step outside themselves, and through it I've subconsciously developed this self-righteousness about it. If I can do it, anyone can - so why don't they? The lack of aid workers has always disappointed me. The lack of reception among my friends has frustrated me as well - usually I am the crazy "development studies" person, and they see it as my career rather than my faith and being. This bothers me.
So on my drive out to Vancouver, I spent some time discussing this with God. The last little while I've seen the passion that a few of us had for Angola spread through our church like wildfire, not consuming our work in Bowness but adding to it. It has been so incredibly encouraging for me.
I am in a place where I have the most security that I have ever had. I have an unbelievable amount of people who love me as family, and leaving has helped me to realize that. I have a church that I deeply love and am committed to. I have two of the best friends in the world - we joke about being married, but they are family to me. And all of a sudden yesterday, I realized that leaving hurts that much more. I cried until Banff. It may sound pathetic, but the people in my life mean everything to me. All the separation anxiety came out and I almost turned the car around. But I didn't. I knew what I was called to do and where I was called to go, and with the grace of God, He kept me going.
Here in Vancouver, I understand better that the more you have, the harder it is to lose it all and still remain faithful. The difficulty is that having those ties doesn't give us an excuse to not go. I will still push people to develop passion for people around them and step outside their comfort zones. The difference is that I will be more understanding of the sacrifice they make as they go.
Now a man came up to Jesus and asked, "Teacher, what good thing must I do to get eternal life?"
"Why do you ask me about what is good?" Jesus replied. "There is only One who is good. If you want to enter life, obey the commandments."
"Which ones?" the man inquired.
Jesus replied, " 'Do not murder, do not commit adultery, do not steal, do not give false testimony, 19honor your father and mother,' and 'love your neighbor as yourself.'"
"All these I have kept," the young man said. "What do I still lack?"
Jesus answered, "If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me."
When the young man heard this, he went away sad, because he had great wealth.
Then Jesus said to his disciples, "I tell you the truth, it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God."
When the disciples heard this, they were greatly astonished and asked, "Who then can be saved?"
Jesus looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible."
-Matthew 19: 16-26
Monday, August 17, 2009
"Take me in into your darkest hour"
This video is a good reminder of perspective for me and what it means to bring God's Kingdom.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Horror films
Generally, I don't watch movies that instill fear. I feel like there is enough real horror in the world - I don't need to scare myself for fun. And it's not fun.
Every time I watch a movie and the music builds and then there's silence and a loud noise, I get frightened. Not just funny discomfort - I ACTUALLY get scared. So lame, I know. Like this one time, Julia and I rented a vampire movie solely because it had Josh Hartnett in it. It wasn't even that scary, it was so unrealistic. And yet, there I was cowering under the blanket while she laughed at me. He was not worth it.
So we just watched another movie - a true story about man-eating lions. This combined with my potential plan of living in Africa did not make for a good night. Once again, I shook under the covers while Julia tried to convince me it wasn't that scary. She kept telling me that if I were Val Kilmer, I'd be a lot smarter and I wouldn't get maimed. But I don't know... Mosquitoes go for me more than other people. Why not lions too?
The funny thing is that in real life I've been faced with way scarier situations - and I always seem to do okay in the moment. I'm a coward in theory and I forget that in practice. I wonder what that says about me.
Anyways, I've sworn off scary movies until April, when I'll live with Julia again and she can be there to take care of the quivering mass under the blankets that is me. *sigh* I may not be high maintenance the traditional way, but the work still gets done.
Every time I watch a movie and the music builds and then there's silence and a loud noise, I get frightened. Not just funny discomfort - I ACTUALLY get scared. So lame, I know. Like this one time, Julia and I rented a vampire movie solely because it had Josh Hartnett in it. It wasn't even that scary, it was so unrealistic. And yet, there I was cowering under the blanket while she laughed at me. He was not worth it.
So we just watched another movie - a true story about man-eating lions. This combined with my potential plan of living in Africa did not make for a good night. Once again, I shook under the covers while Julia tried to convince me it wasn't that scary. She kept telling me that if I were Val Kilmer, I'd be a lot smarter and I wouldn't get maimed. But I don't know... Mosquitoes go for me more than other people. Why not lions too?
The funny thing is that in real life I've been faced with way scarier situations - and I always seem to do okay in the moment. I'm a coward in theory and I forget that in practice. I wonder what that says about me.
Anyways, I've sworn off scary movies until April, when I'll live with Julia again and she can be there to take care of the quivering mass under the blankets that is me. *sigh* I may not be high maintenance the traditional way, but the work still gets done.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Communism, Insurance, and the Kingdom of God
So on Sunday after the apartment across from my friend burned to the ground, we were discussing rental insurance. She brought up the idea of how some people might not get insurance (as part of ushering in the Kingdom of God) because the Body of Christ should take care of each other. It started a really good discussion and following lines of thought, and I spent the next few hours wandering Nose Hill and discussing communism, utopia, and the Kingdom of God.
I agree that we are called to care for each other. But the thing is, we're also called to care for those outside our fold - not just Christians but all neighbors. So if you take insurance as an example, if someone in Bowness's house burns down, it's our responsibility to care for them, regardless of whether or not they know God. What happens then if a non-Christian also wants to chip in and help the person rebuild? We can't just deny them either and say "Oh sorry, only the Christian elite are allowed to help." No, instead to draw nearer the Kingdom of God, we need to foster community and collective help - but as God's will, not just because of altruism or game theory. But then, how small do we keep the community? We can't just say that the borders are Bowness and that's it. Pretty soon it becomes Calgary-wide, then Canada-wide. And then it becomes insurance. Everyone chips in a bit so that if anyone's house burns down, there's enough to rebuild.
Granted, insurance systems in our world are incredibly corrupt - and how they became for-profit is beyond me. I think we should have insurance, but that it should be not-for-profit, although this is a very socialist idea. Everyone chips into the pot and we use it as necessary to help each other. As Walter Wink said at a conference I went to in Toronto, the systems in our world are not inherently evil, but they have been perverted by our sin(greed, lust for power, etc.) and must be redeemed. Rather than stepping away from the current system and just starting a new one that works easier just for Christians, we are called to allow God to work in redeeming the systems.
And that's why I think that just refusing to buy insurance reflects a flawed understanding of salvation and redemption. Jesus didn't just die on the cross only to save my soul - it was the ultimate balancing of the scales, including the salvation of the world - our systems being part of that. I'm not sure how buying insurance will bring about this redemption either, but I don't think the answer is to step away. Another friend of mine had a good point as well about taking advantage of the body of Christ and levels of risk - if you choose to not buy insurance, and instead depend on your church community, you are taking funds away from other possible uses when there is a system (albeit often corrupt) set up to help you already. She likened it to not going to a public hospital for help, but instead training up only Christian health care staff to help Christians. It's a slippery slope, it seems.
I'm still trying to figure out all this "Kingdom of God" stuff, what it looks like, how we are to try to work towards it, and how ultimately we can't be the ones to bring it about - God does that. It's very vague and there is a lot that is not definite in my understanding, but I must admit, I do enjoy that it isn't just all black-and-white.
I agree that we are called to care for each other. But the thing is, we're also called to care for those outside our fold - not just Christians but all neighbors. So if you take insurance as an example, if someone in Bowness's house burns down, it's our responsibility to care for them, regardless of whether or not they know God. What happens then if a non-Christian also wants to chip in and help the person rebuild? We can't just deny them either and say "Oh sorry, only the Christian elite are allowed to help." No, instead to draw nearer the Kingdom of God, we need to foster community and collective help - but as God's will, not just because of altruism or game theory. But then, how small do we keep the community? We can't just say that the borders are Bowness and that's it. Pretty soon it becomes Calgary-wide, then Canada-wide. And then it becomes insurance. Everyone chips in a bit so that if anyone's house burns down, there's enough to rebuild.
Granted, insurance systems in our world are incredibly corrupt - and how they became for-profit is beyond me. I think we should have insurance, but that it should be not-for-profit, although this is a very socialist idea. Everyone chips into the pot and we use it as necessary to help each other. As Walter Wink said at a conference I went to in Toronto, the systems in our world are not inherently evil, but they have been perverted by our sin(greed, lust for power, etc.) and must be redeemed. Rather than stepping away from the current system and just starting a new one that works easier just for Christians, we are called to allow God to work in redeeming the systems.
And that's why I think that just refusing to buy insurance reflects a flawed understanding of salvation and redemption. Jesus didn't just die on the cross only to save my soul - it was the ultimate balancing of the scales, including the salvation of the world - our systems being part of that. I'm not sure how buying insurance will bring about this redemption either, but I don't think the answer is to step away. Another friend of mine had a good point as well about taking advantage of the body of Christ and levels of risk - if you choose to not buy insurance, and instead depend on your church community, you are taking funds away from other possible uses when there is a system (albeit often corrupt) set up to help you already. She likened it to not going to a public hospital for help, but instead training up only Christian health care staff to help Christians. It's a slippery slope, it seems.
I'm still trying to figure out all this "Kingdom of God" stuff, what it looks like, how we are to try to work towards it, and how ultimately we can't be the ones to bring it about - God does that. It's very vague and there is a lot that is not definite in my understanding, but I must admit, I do enjoy that it isn't just all black-and-white.
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
Best. Complaint. Ever.
When things like this happen to me, I get bitter and angry. These guys sing. How awesome is that?
Here is the article about them.
"Broken guitar song gets airline's attention."
Here is the article about them.
"Broken guitar song gets airline's attention."
Saturday, July 04, 2009
Patient's Eye View
I don't often get to experience health care from the point of view of a patient. Today I sat for 4 hours in the waiting room of a walk-in clinic, watching sick people come in and out. We wait for so long to see a doctor for 5 mins - no wonder we have such high expectations. I'm used to seeing it from the health care professional's perspective, when you don't have nearly enough time to perform an accurate assessment but are expected to be on top of the patient's illness anyways. It just seems to be a system overwhelmed. Inside, I resign myself to it, remembering that in other countries, 90% of the things people see a doctor about here are considered things to just ignore and they'll go away. Many people in the world never see a doctor.
And yet there are other expectations on people here. I haven't been able to go to work for a couple of days for dizziness, which a simple medication can solve - but needs a doctor's visit for a prescription. Without going to work, I can't earn enough to support myself. So it becomes necessary for a different kind of survival.
The health care system is just getting more and more overwhelmed - for staff and patients alike. Both sides are getting frustrated and tired, and you can't blame either. There are no simple solutions, but there are steps that can be taken to heal ourselves and our systems. The system can be renewed if we choose it, but that will require positive change, listening to staff and patients, rather than an ego trip that will cost lives. Maybe if we re-evaluate the current changes in the health care system and put up a public outcry, we can start to redirect them for good.
And yet there are other expectations on people here. I haven't been able to go to work for a couple of days for dizziness, which a simple medication can solve - but needs a doctor's visit for a prescription. Without going to work, I can't earn enough to support myself. So it becomes necessary for a different kind of survival.
The health care system is just getting more and more overwhelmed - for staff and patients alike. Both sides are getting frustrated and tired, and you can't blame either. There are no simple solutions, but there are steps that can be taken to heal ourselves and our systems. The system can be renewed if we choose it, but that will require positive change, listening to staff and patients, rather than an ego trip that will cost lives. Maybe if we re-evaluate the current changes in the health care system and put up a public outcry, we can start to redirect them for good.
Friday, July 03, 2009
Dollar Pretty
It's a hot summer afternoon and you've been waiting in line at the nearest cafe for your overpriced trendy lemonade. You're wearing a slightly less modest tank top and shorts, but you don't care at all, because it's hot outside. If guys can go topless, you can wear a low-cut shirt. While in line, you notice the guy behind the counter catching your eye a couple of times. He's pretty good-looking, and when he smiles, you embarrassedly enjoy the attention. When you get to the front, he tells you your drink is on him. It's a recipe for a really great day.
I think most girls in their twenties would admit to having had stuff bought for them by a stranger. I'm no stranger to this scenario- and it's harmless, mostly. If someone else wants to buy me a drink, or dinner, or what have you, that's their choice, right?
But what happens when it becomes intentional? You put on the shirt not because it's hot outside, but because it gets you free drinks?
People who know me at a surface level will probably cringe here, thinking I'm about to get preachy. Those who know me really well will probably start laughing, waiting for my confession. :)
So this one hot summer day, me and my low-cut shirt headed into an electronics store to get a new camera. I'd been saving up to replace the camera I broke last year - as my first paycheque purchase. A salesguy approached me, and I asked him my camera questions. Unfortunately the break-proof one I wanted was out of my price range. I was disheartened, and asked for the cheaper version. Already in a bad mood, I was further irritated by the fact that the salesguy was starting to make me uncomfortable by following the neckline of my shirt. Feeling like I should have known better than to wear a low-cut shirt to an electronics store full of nerds without girlfriends, I turned to leave. Just then, the salesguy pulled me aside. He told me that he could use his store discount and an extra coupon to take $300 off of the camera I wanted (more than half its cost). On top of that, he threw in a free SD card. Now I had no idea if this was the shirt's doing, the sad girl look, or if the salesman was just genuinely a nice guy, but I took it. My mood increased significantly, and I bounced out of the store with a smile.
A couple of weeks later, I found myself out making another big purchase. I was trying to find the cheapest new mattress possible, to replace my old one (which had springs poking out of the fabric). Just as I was heading out the door, I remembered the power of the shirt. Could it be twice lucky? "Let's consider this a scientific experiment," I rationalized as I changed into it. "If I get another discount, I'll know it's the shirt."
At the mattress store, the scene was eerily familiar. The salesguy told my chest his spiel, as though it was paying for the mattress. I guess it was, though, because somehow I found myself with $250 off the cost.
So - did I just cross the line from innocent to manipulative? I think maybe. I decided that the shirt necessitated a sweater overtop from now on. It definitely opened my eyes, but it also made me uncomfortable. Yeah, I totally capitalized on all the free stuff, and no, I don't have enough guilt to donate that extra cash to charity, haha. But somehow, no amount of money is worth feeling like some guy is roving over you. Even though it's nice to feel wanted, you know inside that it's meaningless, it's just physical. And I guess that's just not enough.
I think most girls in their twenties would admit to having had stuff bought for them by a stranger. I'm no stranger to this scenario- and it's harmless, mostly. If someone else wants to buy me a drink, or dinner, or what have you, that's their choice, right?
But what happens when it becomes intentional? You put on the shirt not because it's hot outside, but because it gets you free drinks?
People who know me at a surface level will probably cringe here, thinking I'm about to get preachy. Those who know me really well will probably start laughing, waiting for my confession. :)
So this one hot summer day, me and my low-cut shirt headed into an electronics store to get a new camera. I'd been saving up to replace the camera I broke last year - as my first paycheque purchase. A salesguy approached me, and I asked him my camera questions. Unfortunately the break-proof one I wanted was out of my price range. I was disheartened, and asked for the cheaper version. Already in a bad mood, I was further irritated by the fact that the salesguy was starting to make me uncomfortable by following the neckline of my shirt. Feeling like I should have known better than to wear a low-cut shirt to an electronics store full of nerds without girlfriends, I turned to leave. Just then, the salesguy pulled me aside. He told me that he could use his store discount and an extra coupon to take $300 off of the camera I wanted (more than half its cost). On top of that, he threw in a free SD card. Now I had no idea if this was the shirt's doing, the sad girl look, or if the salesman was just genuinely a nice guy, but I took it. My mood increased significantly, and I bounced out of the store with a smile.
A couple of weeks later, I found myself out making another big purchase. I was trying to find the cheapest new mattress possible, to replace my old one (which had springs poking out of the fabric). Just as I was heading out the door, I remembered the power of the shirt. Could it be twice lucky? "Let's consider this a scientific experiment," I rationalized as I changed into it. "If I get another discount, I'll know it's the shirt."
At the mattress store, the scene was eerily familiar. The salesguy told my chest his spiel, as though it was paying for the mattress. I guess it was, though, because somehow I found myself with $250 off the cost.
So - did I just cross the line from innocent to manipulative? I think maybe. I decided that the shirt necessitated a sweater overtop from now on. It definitely opened my eyes, but it also made me uncomfortable. Yeah, I totally capitalized on all the free stuff, and no, I don't have enough guilt to donate that extra cash to charity, haha. But somehow, no amount of money is worth feeling like some guy is roving over you. Even though it's nice to feel wanted, you know inside that it's meaningless, it's just physical. And I guess that's just not enough.
Bare Necessities
I recently came across this legitimate Air New Zealand safety video - featuring the staff completely naked (and wearing body paint). It was so well done and I was laughing so hard, very impressive. Apparently the point of it was to say that Air NZ has nothing to hide. The video is called "The Bare Essentials of Safety," and is surprisingly modest for a group full of naked employees. Check out the creativity!
There's also a great ad for Air NZ following the same lines...
There's also a great ad for Air NZ following the same lines...
Saturday, June 27, 2009
"I think my life is worth protecting" (?)
So I read this article on Guns In Church.
Hmm...
What happened to 1 John 3:16?
That being said, I don't know if, in a fight to the death, my belief in letting the other person live would win out over my survival instinct. That's why I try not to let killing them be an option - I don't know if I have the moral strength to be who I want to be. I would prefer to die than kill, but thankfully I've never been tested.
Hmm...
What happened to 1 John 3:16?
That being said, I don't know if, in a fight to the death, my belief in letting the other person live would win out over my survival instinct. That's why I try not to let killing them be an option - I don't know if I have the moral strength to be who I want to be. I would prefer to die than kill, but thankfully I've never been tested.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Sexual Assault in Canada
I was out for coffee a while ago with a friend, with our discussion topic being "women in ministry," ie. gender equality in the church. My views on this are the same as my views on gender equality anywhere, in the workplace, at home, at school, in life - all people are created equal.
Anyways, we were discussing sexual assault and how it is the unspoken underlying factor when women's equality is discussed. Somehow, it seems unprofessional to stand up and say that you've been molested when in an academic discussion about equality, but the fact remains that so many women have been harassed so it's not really that personal anymore. What I mean by this is that if it's happened to you, chances are it's happened to the person beside you, and it becomes a very relevant issue to the discussion as a whole. This is why people need to speak up on abuse.
My friend had heard that something like 50% of women have been sexually assaulted. I thought this was an exaggeration, that it was more like a quarter of women, but it turns out he was right.
58% of women have experienced sexual/physical assault at least once. Apparently 91% of sexual assaults are not reported to police. Now I have no idea how Stats Can came up with that number, but I would definitely agree that most sexual assaults go unreported. I'm not one to just rely on statistics because I'm always skeptical of them, but I think their value is that they do illustrate trends. And the trends here are "over half of Canadian women know what it's like to be molested," and "the vast majority don't tell the police." That doesn't even include the male victims - which are fewer but just as devastated as the female ones.
On an agency visit to CCASA a couple years ago, they told us that they don't push reporting of sexual assault because of the potential consequences to the victims. If the rapist gets convicted (which is extremely rare given the 'he said, she said' of it all), sentences are so light that the sense of justice is unlikely to come from our justice system. Instead, victims are provided with counseling and hopefully the ability to move forward with their lives.
While I also am loathe to push formal reporting because of the trauma it can cause victims, I do think that sexual assault needs to come out from inside the closet and be spoken out against. Even just telling someone can help to ease the burden - and as we speak out, we breathe courage into other victims' lives so that they too can move forward.
Anyways, we were discussing sexual assault and how it is the unspoken underlying factor when women's equality is discussed. Somehow, it seems unprofessional to stand up and say that you've been molested when in an academic discussion about equality, but the fact remains that so many women have been harassed so it's not really that personal anymore. What I mean by this is that if it's happened to you, chances are it's happened to the person beside you, and it becomes a very relevant issue to the discussion as a whole. This is why people need to speak up on abuse.
My friend had heard that something like 50% of women have been sexually assaulted. I thought this was an exaggeration, that it was more like a quarter of women, but it turns out he was right.
58% of women have experienced sexual/physical assault at least once. Apparently 91% of sexual assaults are not reported to police. Now I have no idea how Stats Can came up with that number, but I would definitely agree that most sexual assaults go unreported. I'm not one to just rely on statistics because I'm always skeptical of them, but I think their value is that they do illustrate trends. And the trends here are "over half of Canadian women know what it's like to be molested," and "the vast majority don't tell the police." That doesn't even include the male victims - which are fewer but just as devastated as the female ones.
On an agency visit to CCASA a couple years ago, they told us that they don't push reporting of sexual assault because of the potential consequences to the victims. If the rapist gets convicted (which is extremely rare given the 'he said, she said' of it all), sentences are so light that the sense of justice is unlikely to come from our justice system. Instead, victims are provided with counseling and hopefully the ability to move forward with their lives.
While I also am loathe to push formal reporting because of the trauma it can cause victims, I do think that sexual assault needs to come out from inside the closet and be spoken out against. Even just telling someone can help to ease the burden - and as we speak out, we breathe courage into other victims' lives so that they too can move forward.
What Stephen Lewis had to say to everyday Calgarians
I love the library. Not surprising, for a girl who won't even put a book down for a meal - since I was little, I love to read while I eat. I just love to read.
So I was at the Calgary Public Library the other day, when a DVD caught my eye. I know, I know, you don't read DVDs. I put on the captions. Anyways, I checked out the DVD, and I'm so glad I did.
It was a recording of Stephen Lewis' address to our very own library, last year. Now Stephen Lewis is one of my heroes, and I missed watching him speak live. I couldn't believe it - here was my chance to watch what he had to say to people just like me.
Of course, I was blown away. You'd think I'd be let down, since my expectations were so high, but no. The man is amazing. He had me laughing with the first sentence out of his mouth. And more than being entertaining, the depth with which he explained things that took me a full degree to understand, was unbelievable. He takes truth and knowledge that in Alberta is considered left-wing hippie conspiracy theory stuff, and made it palatable to a Calgary audience. His expositions on structural adjustment programs by the World Bank, his opinions on the Millenium Development Goals, and his fierce, fierce advocacy for gender equality had me hungering to hear more.
If you live in Calgary, or have access to this speech, I strongly suggest you take an hour out of your time and watch it. You can find it in the library catalogue under "Passion With A Purpose" or just by looking up Stephen Lewis. It's information so crucial for everyone to know, and his increasing popularity on the world stage is helping to bring regular people to a heightened understanding of what it means to live globally.
It is rare to find a really excellent speaker - Stephen Lewis is one of them. You will laugh, you will cry, and when it's over you will realize how much he's impacted you - no wonder he was named one of the top 100 influential people in the world. If I could be half the man he is one day, I'd be honoured.
So I was at the Calgary Public Library the other day, when a DVD caught my eye. I know, I know, you don't read DVDs. I put on the captions. Anyways, I checked out the DVD, and I'm so glad I did.
It was a recording of Stephen Lewis' address to our very own library, last year. Now Stephen Lewis is one of my heroes, and I missed watching him speak live. I couldn't believe it - here was my chance to watch what he had to say to people just like me.
Of course, I was blown away. You'd think I'd be let down, since my expectations were so high, but no. The man is amazing. He had me laughing with the first sentence out of his mouth. And more than being entertaining, the depth with which he explained things that took me a full degree to understand, was unbelievable. He takes truth and knowledge that in Alberta is considered left-wing hippie conspiracy theory stuff, and made it palatable to a Calgary audience. His expositions on structural adjustment programs by the World Bank, his opinions on the Millenium Development Goals, and his fierce, fierce advocacy for gender equality had me hungering to hear more.
If you live in Calgary, or have access to this speech, I strongly suggest you take an hour out of your time and watch it. You can find it in the library catalogue under "Passion With A Purpose" or just by looking up Stephen Lewis. It's information so crucial for everyone to know, and his increasing popularity on the world stage is helping to bring regular people to a heightened understanding of what it means to live globally.
It is rare to find a really excellent speaker - Stephen Lewis is one of them. You will laugh, you will cry, and when it's over you will realize how much he's impacted you - no wonder he was named one of the top 100 influential people in the world. If I could be half the man he is one day, I'd be honoured.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Bear Safety
So I watched "He's just not that into you" with my wifey (also known as my super good friend and roommate) the other day. We'd heard a lot of good things about it, and thought that as two single and happy women, we'd find it funny. Except that we didn't. It seemed like all of the women in the movie were crazy. Some more crazy than others, granted, but they all just made women in general look like hyper-insecure clingy psychopaths. We both articulated scathing comments throughout the whole movie because we were so irritated by how insane these movie women were acting.
Fast forward a little bit. I get to the mall, and realize that a guy I have a crush on is walking around in the same store. A bit of background - I have no intention of actually dating right now, and am not wanting to pursue a relationship. But that doesn't mean I don't get crushes. So I see this guy (mind you I'm still wearing my pajama bottoms and haven't brushed my teeth), and I panicked. Out of the fear came freezing - I just waited until he passed and went to the next store, holding my breath, hoping he wouldn't see me. He walked by me again as I was running errands, so I ducked into the nearest store, hoping it was something sexy like "La Vie en Rose." Unfortunately, as I looked around me, I realized it was "Thyme Maternity." Huh. Finally, he left the area and I inched out, holding my breath, not able to relax until I was safe back in my car.
And then I realized - I'm crazy too. Not totally insane like the movie girls. But I still have a little bit of irrationality in me. If I was totally cool, I'd just stroll right up to the guy and say hello, not caring how I looked. The awesome part of me knows that's the best decision. Unfortunately, the crazy part of me took over in the moment.
So in analysis of this in my brain afterwards - I realized it was exactly like a grizzly encounter. When you're hiking, you don't want to see a grizzly. The entire time, you try to avoid seeing one. But let's face it, there's a little part of you that thinks it would be SO cool to see a bear while hiking. You don't ever let that part act, but it's there. So there I was in the mall, and I saw the grizzly. It hadn't seen me yet though, so I tried to be as obscure as poss
ible. Be one with the trees. A part of me was thrilled to be there, and the other part was screaming that I should run for my life or at least avoid as best as possible. Yet if it actually approached me, I'd probably play it cool. My brain would go into crisis mode and I'd know what to do to not show my fear. Only afterwards would I collapse into a jelly-legged quivering mass.
I'm not ready to meet a grizzly bear. I've met plenty in the past, and come out okay, but I'm not ready for another one yet. If I see one, I'd rather avoid an encounter. I just am unprepared to deal with the consequences. I still think they're cool though. It's nice to have crushes once in a while, it's humbling, haha.
Fast forward a little bit. I get to the mall, and realize that a guy I have a crush on is walking around in the same store. A bit of background - I have no intention of actually dating right now, and am not wanting to pursue a relationship. But that doesn't mean I don't get crushes. So I see this guy (mind you I'm still wearing my pajama bottoms and haven't brushed my teeth), and I panicked. Out of the fear came freezing - I just waited until he passed and went to the next store, holding my breath, hoping he wouldn't see me. He walked by me again as I was running errands, so I ducked into the nearest store, hoping it was something sexy like "La Vie en Rose." Unfortunately, as I looked around me, I realized it was "Thyme Maternity." Huh. Finally, he left the area and I inched out, holding my breath, not able to relax until I was safe back in my car.
And then I realized - I'm crazy too. Not totally insane like the movie girls. But I still have a little bit of irrationality in me. If I was totally cool, I'd just stroll right up to the guy and say hello, not caring how I looked. The awesome part of me knows that's the best decision. Unfortunately, the crazy part of me took over in the moment.
So in analysis of this in my brain afterwards - I realized it was exactly like a grizzly encounter. When you're hiking, you don't want to see a grizzly. The entire time, you try to avoid seeing one. But let's face it, there's a little part of you that thinks it would be SO cool to see a bear while hiking. You don't ever let that part act, but it's there. So there I was in the mall, and I saw the grizzly. It hadn't seen me yet though, so I tried to be as obscure as poss
ible. Be one with the trees. A part of me was thrilled to be there, and the other part was screaming that I should run for my life or at least avoid as best as possible. Yet if it actually approached me, I'd probably play it cool. My brain would go into crisis mode and I'd know what to do to not show my fear. Only afterwards would I collapse into a jelly-legged quivering mass.I'm not ready to meet a grizzly bear. I've met plenty in the past, and come out okay, but I'm not ready for another one yet. If I see one, I'd rather avoid an encounter. I just am unprepared to deal with the consequences. I still think they're cool though. It's nice to have crushes once in a while, it's humbling, haha.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Hunger
Do you remember what it feels like when you miss a meal? When your stomach gnaws away at you, and you get grumpy and irrational, feeling like your right to eat was taken away? Food consumes your thoughts, it takes over. It's a basic human need.
1 billion people in the world feel hunger every day
1 billion.
Consider investing into agriculture, especially small farmers overseas. There are tons of ways to do it - one of the ways I use is Kiva.org. These statistics are overwhelming, but they can also help push people to do something - even if it's just a little. So find a way to help, and follow through with it.
1 billion people in the world feel hunger every day
1 billion.
Consider investing into agriculture, especially small farmers overseas. There are tons of ways to do it - one of the ways I use is Kiva.org. These statistics are overwhelming, but they can also help push people to do something - even if it's just a little. So find a way to help, and follow through with it.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Health Care in Alberta
I've been feeling for a while like I should comment on the health region's new restructuring, but I haven't known what to say. There is so much to be said on the politics, but I'm not the person to ask about that. Here's how I see it.
What the new system has meant directly in my life is the following:
What the new system has meant directly in my life is the following:
- My extremely good managers having their workload doubled because they were told they're taking on management of a second unit (who lost their managers in the cuts)
- Half my friends from school who graduated this year not finding work as nurses in Calgary and having to move elsewhere due to the "rebranding" (read: hiring freeze)
- Me having a shift where when one person went home sick and there was nobody able to come in, I covered 8 acute patients (on a weekday day shift), 10 when other nurses were on breaks.
- Being asked to stay an extra four hours because the unit was already short nurses and it was impossible to care for as many patients as we had without nurses. Getting paid overtime, but wondering about the inefficiency
- Watching nurse friends who were given positions have them taken away and dropped back to casual
- Extra stress knowing that my managers aren't able to be as supportive and present for me as a new nurse because they're trying to figure out how to cope with a doubled workload
- When I spoke with recruiters in Vancouver, they asked me why all of a sudden they were getting a ton of nurses applying from Alberta - the hiring freeze is "informal" and apparently they just didn't know about it
Friday, June 12, 2009
Music in my Soul
One of the recent hobbies that I'm glad I started up is singing. I started taking singing lessons a little over a year ago, with no prior training. I'd only ever sung in the shower and while alone in my car, but on a particularly courageous whim, I decided to email a singing instructor and ask if he would take me on as a student. Now my instructor happens to be one of the best around, and he's become more than just a teacher to me - he mentors me through music. He shares my faith and my passions, and his standards are so high that I thought for sure he'd never agree to take me on. To my surprise, I've been in lessons ever since. My courage has increased to singing in front of close friends and family, but I'm still too terrified to sing in public - although I'm sure that'll come.
Recently somebody asked me why I'm in singing lessons. I'm scrimping and saving to be able to go to Vancouver in the fall, and every penny counts - so why am I wasting my money on these lessons? I don't have any ambitions of being the next Diana Krall. I can't articulate why I'm staying in the lessons.
So I asked my singing instructor. He's always pushing me to do my best, and to reach for higher heights. I wanted to know what he thought - if it was foolish of me to just be in lessons for music's sake, without a higher motivation. He referred me to this article, about how music ministers to the soul. And I realized, that's exactly it. Whether I sing on a worship team, in a recording studio, or in my own car, music enriches life and helps add dimension. I think it's another way of seeing God in the world. And that's why I'd rather eat celery and peanut butter for two weeks than give up learning how to sing. I love it, plain and simple.
Recently somebody asked me why I'm in singing lessons. I'm scrimping and saving to be able to go to Vancouver in the fall, and every penny counts - so why am I wasting my money on these lessons? I don't have any ambitions of being the next Diana Krall. I can't articulate why I'm staying in the lessons.
So I asked my singing instructor. He's always pushing me to do my best, and to reach for higher heights. I wanted to know what he thought - if it was foolish of me to just be in lessons for music's sake, without a higher motivation. He referred me to this article, about how music ministers to the soul. And I realized, that's exactly it. Whether I sing on a worship team, in a recording studio, or in my own car, music enriches life and helps add dimension. I think it's another way of seeing God in the world. And that's why I'd rather eat celery and peanut butter for two weeks than give up learning how to sing. I love it, plain and simple.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Harry Potter Rant
A little while ago as I was out for coffee with somebody I was starting to get to know, I asked him if he was a fan of Harry Potter. We were discussing movies, and he really enjoyed the last Narnia movie (while I was staunchly against it for not sticking to the book and for over-hollywood-izing it). I thought it only natural that he would also enjoy Harry Potter, seeing as how the two series are quite similar in my mind.
Much to my dismay, the guy stared at me like he finally saw me plainly for what I was - a temptress sent straight from the pits of hell, hahaha. What he thought was a heavenly set-up chance meeting of a sunlit girl in a park singing worship songs, had all of a sudden turned into something akin to what you'd find in a dark, damp, brothel. "Harry Potter?" he asked me. "That is a pile of garbage from Satan. I forced my sister to burn one of them in a campfire when she received one from a friend."
Whoa whoa whoa. Burning a book? For a nerd like me, THAT's what's evil. Forcing your sister? Talk about domination. No, no no. This was not the boy for me.
I was thinking about this guy the other day. Obviously, there were no further dates, for more reasons than just his literary views. But I couldn't believe just how anti-Harry Potter he was. I know there have been many fanatics, and I've met a few myself. But now that Rowling has explicitly stated that the books are Christian, even including verses from Scripture and direct quotes of Jesus, I fail to see how one could stick with the theory that the books are evil.
Now some of the people I've talked to have said "Oh well of course it's not Christian, Rowling said Dumbledore is gay." Are there no gay people in this world that Christians live in? Can homosexuals not be wise? And ironically, the relationship in question, between Dumbledore and Grindelwald is actually considered the biggest mistake of Dumbledore's life. I don't see this as a contradiction to the book being Christian at all.
I can understand how, before Rowling "came out" as a Christian, it was good to question the books. I don't know if I could come to the same judgment on them, but it's important to consider everything you read with a grain of salt, and recognize how it impacts you. I just don't get how, once she's said so much about the resurrection, people think it's so horrible. For example, the reason Voldemort (evil) could no longer permanently harm anybody at the end was because Harry (who was innocent) was willing to die to protect them and this was a "deeper magic" (as C.S. Lewis said) that Voldemort didn't know about. Does this ring any bells? Jesus was willing to die to save us, which is why sin no longer has a permanent hold on us. Hmm, that sounds oddly similar.
Anyways, that concludes another rant. I can't wait for the next Harry Potter movie to come out - it's sure to be a tear-jerker.
Much to my dismay, the guy stared at me like he finally saw me plainly for what I was - a temptress sent straight from the pits of hell, hahaha. What he thought was a heavenly set-up chance meeting of a sunlit girl in a park singing worship songs, had all of a sudden turned into something akin to what you'd find in a dark, damp, brothel. "Harry Potter?" he asked me. "That is a pile of garbage from Satan. I forced my sister to burn one of them in a campfire when she received one from a friend."
Whoa whoa whoa. Burning a book? For a nerd like me, THAT's what's evil. Forcing your sister? Talk about domination. No, no no. This was not the boy for me.
I was thinking about this guy the other day. Obviously, there were no further dates, for more reasons than just his literary views. But I couldn't believe just how anti-Harry Potter he was. I know there have been many fanatics, and I've met a few myself. But now that Rowling has explicitly stated that the books are Christian, even including verses from Scripture and direct quotes of Jesus, I fail to see how one could stick with the theory that the books are evil.
Now some of the people I've talked to have said "Oh well of course it's not Christian, Rowling said Dumbledore is gay." Are there no gay people in this world that Christians live in? Can homosexuals not be wise? And ironically, the relationship in question, between Dumbledore and Grindelwald is actually considered the biggest mistake of Dumbledore's life. I don't see this as a contradiction to the book being Christian at all.
I can understand how, before Rowling "came out" as a Christian, it was good to question the books. I don't know if I could come to the same judgment on them, but it's important to consider everything you read with a grain of salt, and recognize how it impacts you. I just don't get how, once she's said so much about the resurrection, people think it's so horrible. For example, the reason Voldemort (evil) could no longer permanently harm anybody at the end was because Harry (who was innocent) was willing to die to protect them and this was a "deeper magic" (as C.S. Lewis said) that Voldemort didn't know about. Does this ring any bells? Jesus was willing to die to save us, which is why sin no longer has a permanent hold on us. Hmm, that sounds oddly similar.
Anyways, that concludes another rant. I can't wait for the next Harry Potter movie to come out - it's sure to be a tear-jerker.
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Yes, I've finally found the man for me.
I saw him as though through a haze, coming at me from the light. *Sigh.* My prince at last.
He had traveled from a distant land (Seattle, I think), and had been brought to me by two good friends, who saw him and realized we were perfect for one another. I cannot thank them enough.
He had me the moment he first gazed into my eyes. I've never dated a redhead, but none have ever swept me off my feet the way he did, with his unfeatured face and his jet-black eyebrows that made me fall into dreams of finding out if he was naturally red-haired.
It's true that I've never been one to check out anyone's rear end (being a believer that all hineys are equal in ugliness), BUT things change. His crown becomes more of a tiara from the back view, which only enhances his appeal - only a man completely secure in his masculinity would wear a tiara and thigh-high black boots.
Realizing just what a miracle he is has only helped me grow to love him. How could anyone so beautiful come from something so disgusting? (See Amy for transformation photos that remind me of a film on childbirth I had to watch in school).
Now that he's finally all mine, I will fight to keep him. Get your own frog prince.
He had traveled from a distant land (Seattle, I think), and had been brought to me by two good friends, who saw him and realized we were perfect for one another. I cannot thank them enough.
He had me the moment he first gazed into my eyes. I've never dated a redhead, but none have ever swept me off my feet the way he did, with his unfeatured face and his jet-black eyebrows that made me fall into dreams of finding out if he was naturally red-haired.
It's true that I've never been one to check out anyone's rear end (being a believer that all hineys are equal in ugliness), BUT things change. His crown becomes more of a tiara from the back view, which only enhances his appeal - only a man completely secure in his masculinity would wear a tiara and thigh-high black boots.
Realizing just what a miracle he is has only helped me grow to love him. How could anyone so beautiful come from something so disgusting? (See Amy for transformation photos that remind me of a film on childbirth I had to watch in school).
Now that he's finally all mine, I will fight to keep him. Get your own frog prince.Saturday, June 06, 2009
A Biased Pro-Aid Rant
There are a lot of things that raise my blood pressure. The good thing is that I'm very passionate about many issues - the bad thing is that I don't always handle it well.
One of the fights that I hate having because it's so personal, is whether or not aid work is a good thing. After Dambisa Moyo's baseless comments against aid work, all of a sudden many of us who have been, will be, and are at heart aid workers, found ourselves facing incredible backlash from family and friends. And it's been really hard to cope with.
I realize that it sounds arrogant for me to disagree with a Harvard-and-Oxford-educated woman. But I am a firm believer that a good school does not necessarily mean that the students are always right. The school often adds credibility to what they say regardless of the content. Unfortunately this is one person who I think used this credibility carelessly.
On further investigation, the argument against aid work is clarified to exclude humanitarian emergency assistance. Unfortunately, much of aid work is humanitarian, and to the person who is starving, it is an emergency. Now I am not a big fan of the bureaucracy of the UN, but I think its value still lies in humanitarian assistance, and in aid work. It's not like UN politics are effective - aid work is the only thing that gives them worth.
I do understand that it should be the government's responsibility to take care of their people. In effect, what Moyo is saying is that we're enablers. For this to make sense, it means that the problem is entirely with the governments of ailing countries. Let's face it, the problems often are mired in corruption. But Western countries have created these problems, through oppression and destabilization, through loaning money and charging ridiculous interest, and through capitalizing on the desperation of impoverished nations to make them into political pawns. We see this over and over again. For us to all of a sudden wash our hands and step back is irresponsible.
What can be learned from Dambisa Moyo is that more thought needs to go into aid work. Instead of just throwing food and money around, it needs to be a hand up rather than a hand out. My issue is just that the way the idea is presented seems to imply sticking those hands back in our own pockets and strolling away.
One of the fights that I hate having because it's so personal, is whether or not aid work is a good thing. After Dambisa Moyo's baseless comments against aid work, all of a sudden many of us who have been, will be, and are at heart aid workers, found ourselves facing incredible backlash from family and friends. And it's been really hard to cope with.
I realize that it sounds arrogant for me to disagree with a Harvard-and-Oxford-educated woman. But I am a firm believer that a good school does not necessarily mean that the students are always right. The school often adds credibility to what they say regardless of the content. Unfortunately this is one person who I think used this credibility carelessly.
On further investigation, the argument against aid work is clarified to exclude humanitarian emergency assistance. Unfortunately, much of aid work is humanitarian, and to the person who is starving, it is an emergency. Now I am not a big fan of the bureaucracy of the UN, but I think its value still lies in humanitarian assistance, and in aid work. It's not like UN politics are effective - aid work is the only thing that gives them worth.
I do understand that it should be the government's responsibility to take care of their people. In effect, what Moyo is saying is that we're enablers. For this to make sense, it means that the problem is entirely with the governments of ailing countries. Let's face it, the problems often are mired in corruption. But Western countries have created these problems, through oppression and destabilization, through loaning money and charging ridiculous interest, and through capitalizing on the desperation of impoverished nations to make them into political pawns. We see this over and over again. For us to all of a sudden wash our hands and step back is irresponsible.
What can be learned from Dambisa Moyo is that more thought needs to go into aid work. Instead of just throwing food and money around, it needs to be a hand up rather than a hand out. My issue is just that the way the idea is presented seems to imply sticking those hands back in our own pockets and strolling away.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Dancing Beyond Borders
If there ever was a day that I was going to fall asleep in church, it was today. Haha that makes it sound like I never fall asleep, which would be a lie. But today was going to be one of those days. Having run around all afternoon, and being out in the sun, combined with not eating, made me totally out of it.
I forgot about my pastor, Scott Cripps, and how good he is at getting his point across. So even though I thought I was going to fall asleep, I actually ended up paying attention and learning a lot from what he said. You see, today is the day we celebrate Pentecost, or when the Holy Spirit descended upon us to dwell inside each and every one of us. As Scott put it, it's the Church's birthday.
The video he used to illustrate Pentecost and the beauty of the church blew me away. It's so simple - starts with one and grows. Every nation has it's own style, and no one nation or person is better. I loved this movie because of the joy, the passion, and the lack of borders - in Christ we are all one. In fairness to Matt, the dance star of the movie, he did not (at least blatantly) make it about God, but instead humanity. But from my perspective, the beauty of humanity is within God. "Every good and perfect gift is from our Heavenly Father above," and this has God written all over it whether or not we acknowledge it. Check it out!
I forgot about my pastor, Scott Cripps, and how good he is at getting his point across. So even though I thought I was going to fall asleep, I actually ended up paying attention and learning a lot from what he said. You see, today is the day we celebrate Pentecost, or when the Holy Spirit descended upon us to dwell inside each and every one of us. As Scott put it, it's the Church's birthday.
The video he used to illustrate Pentecost and the beauty of the church blew me away. It's so simple - starts with one and grows. Every nation has it's own style, and no one nation or person is better. I loved this movie because of the joy, the passion, and the lack of borders - in Christ we are all one. In fairness to Matt, the dance star of the movie, he did not (at least blatantly) make it about God, but instead humanity. But from my perspective, the beauty of humanity is within God. "Every good and perfect gift is from our Heavenly Father above," and this has God written all over it whether or not we acknowledge it. Check it out!
Wedding Emotions
I'm not normally a wedding crier, but yesterday I spent the entire afternoon bawling as two friends of mine married each other. I'm still in a cloud of happiness for them and I think it'll last at least another day before I get back to reality.
Some people go to weddings, sit at the singles table, and sigh, wondering when their time will come. Maybe it's a sign that I'll do well staying single that I'm not one of those people. I was so consumed with joy for the two getting married, and so happy for them to have found each other, that it did the exact opposite for me. Some people are meant to find each other, fall in love (or in some cases in and out and in and out and in), and eventually get married. I'm not in that stage, and unless I find someone who matches my heart, the way that the couple yesterday matched each other, it isn't worth getting married.
Watching Janette and Darcy share inside jokes through glances and giggles throughout the ceremony, I realized that what they have is what love is meant to be. And it wasn't just the two of them, either. Darcy's father read a poem about love in their family - how it's the family legacy. His parents love each other, held on through the tough times. So did hers. More tears were shed all around - men and women, old and young, family and friends.
And then there were others there too. When the first love song came on, I was standing near Jacinda. I looked over at her, and she was watching the couples dance with a smile on her face, so happy for them all. I turned and searched the room until I found what I was looking for: Ben was on the opposite side of the room, making his way over. He had eyes for nobody but Jacinda, and as people stopped him to chat, he politely turned them aside; he didn't pause for anyone but made his way through the crowd to her, intentional and determined. She turned at his voice and put her arms around him; they made their way out onto the dance floor, lost in each other's eyes, beautiful, and in love.
Yesterday was a true celebration of marriage in all of its beauty, in various forms, and at different stages. I feel so blessed that I was able to witness that, and get a glimpse of what Christ's relationship with us is like. Regardless of whether or not I decide to marry, I will always be in love with God, and He in love with me. So I'll turn at His voice and let Him lead me out to dance.
Some people go to weddings, sit at the singles table, and sigh, wondering when their time will come. Maybe it's a sign that I'll do well staying single that I'm not one of those people. I was so consumed with joy for the two getting married, and so happy for them to have found each other, that it did the exact opposite for me. Some people are meant to find each other, fall in love (or in some cases in and out and in and out and in), and eventually get married. I'm not in that stage, and unless I find someone who matches my heart, the way that the couple yesterday matched each other, it isn't worth getting married.
Watching Janette and Darcy share inside jokes through glances and giggles throughout the ceremony, I realized that what they have is what love is meant to be. And it wasn't just the two of them, either. Darcy's father read a poem about love in their family - how it's the family legacy. His parents love each other, held on through the tough times. So did hers. More tears were shed all around - men and women, old and young, family and friends.
And then there were others there too. When the first love song came on, I was standing near Jacinda. I looked over at her, and she was watching the couples dance with a smile on her face, so happy for them all. I turned and searched the room until I found what I was looking for: Ben was on the opposite side of the room, making his way over. He had eyes for nobody but Jacinda, and as people stopped him to chat, he politely turned them aside; he didn't pause for anyone but made his way through the crowd to her, intentional and determined. She turned at his voice and put her arms around him; they made their way out onto the dance floor, lost in each other's eyes, beautiful, and in love.
Yesterday was a true celebration of marriage in all of its beauty, in various forms, and at different stages. I feel so blessed that I was able to witness that, and get a glimpse of what Christ's relationship with us is like. Regardless of whether or not I decide to marry, I will always be in love with God, and He in love with me. So I'll turn at His voice and let Him lead me out to dance.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Peace Through Music
So I've been following the Playing for Change movement for some time now - they have a few new songs so check out their website. They're getting bigger and gaining momentum - even got Bono to sing on one of the Bob Marley songs (below).
Here are the two newest songs since I last posted about them. Check out the website for more details - it's a great way for artists to connect with other artists and help people understand that music is a beautiful and relational way to overcome differences.
Here are the two newest songs since I last posted about them. Check out the website for more details - it's a great way for artists to connect with other artists and help people understand that music is a beautiful and relational way to overcome differences.
Spring Fun
There are very few places where you can play tag with a storm. Today on my run I ran up to the edge of the storm, in the foothills at a pond where the blue sky met the black clouds, then it chased me all the way back home. I love Alberta.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Sacred places
I have a few. Some in Calgary, some in the mountains, some overseas. Nearly all are in forest or at water's edge. I can't seem to find sacred space in a concrete box except near the window, or within my own memory. Rock and sun and earth and leaves - this is where I heal, grow, breathe, and dream. Hours spent there refresh and renew me for the challenges to come, and I know that I will always find a place to rest my soul.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Imperfect Offerings
I started reading "An Imperfect Offering" by James Orbinski, a physician who is now a prof at UofT but who was past president of MSF. Normally I read through books pretty fast, but this one has taken me a couple of months because there is so much to think about. I think it's one of the best books that any medical professional intending to work overseas can read.
Dr. Orbinski is so transparent, so humbly honest in everything he says that as I read it I feel that I would think just like he does. He makes you love him by so clearly articulating all of what he felt and thought throughout the incredibly difficult circumstances he was in. There is no tarnish of pride in this book - he is open about his failures. The thing is, he also found hope in what he was doing, even in the midst of the Rwandan genocide. It's not a depressing book, it's actually inspiring.
Here is what I learned. Everything we have, anything we can do for one another - all of it is imperfect. But it is an offering nonetheless, and it is worth giving.
Dr. Orbinski is so transparent, so humbly honest in everything he says that as I read it I feel that I would think just like he does. He makes you love him by so clearly articulating all of what he felt and thought throughout the incredibly difficult circumstances he was in. There is no tarnish of pride in this book - he is open about his failures. The thing is, he also found hope in what he was doing, even in the midst of the Rwandan genocide. It's not a depressing book, it's actually inspiring.
Here is what I learned. Everything we have, anything we can do for one another - all of it is imperfect. But it is an offering nonetheless, and it is worth giving.
"I cut, irrigated, and tied off the arteries. In the last six weeks, Giovanni had broken all of the surgical saw blades. Now we were using a sterilized hacksaw. I sawed through the bone, and then cut, shaping and stitching the tissue, leaving a flap that we would close later just above his knee. In thirty minutes, I had sawed off his leg. It would take a lot of sweat to cut off a leg with a machete, I thought; it would be hard work. If the angle was right, though, less work to cut off a foot at the ankle, and even less just to cut the Achilles tendon. And with the right blows, it takes seconds - and very little sweat - to kill. The Interahamwe had figured this out. Yes, I thought, it's different with a machete.
Therese took the severed limb and put it in a bucket on the floor at the end of the operating table. It stood out of the bucket, like a bent flagpole, dripping blood onto the floor. My shoes had another layer of blood on them.
Then she pushed through the operating room doors. One door slammed against the wall, the other swung closed. His mother screamed, "Mame-we! Mama-we y' nola" and louder again "Mama-we y' Nola!" as she lunged towards her son, one hand outstretched, the other clasping her yellow shawl. She held him and stroked his forehead. The light came in through the windows, making the sweat on his brow glisten, and making the yellow of her cheap synthetic shawl yellower still. His leg was in a bucket, and he was alive - an imperfect offering. She held him around his head as he quietly whispered, "Mama-we, Mama-we." They were beautiful to me."
- Dr. James Orbinski, "An Imperfect Offering", 2008.
Friday, May 08, 2009
Real life example of grace
An aside - is this not the coolest story about grace??? Check it out - it's a beautiful mess, this world we live in. *sigh*
Safe Injection Sites - what do you think?
Hey,
This is one of those blog posts where I withhold my opinion (whoa - do those even exist?) and ask for yours. What do you think of safe injection sites like the one in Vancouver? The concept is harm reduction. The fifth estate did a show on it that is somewhat one-sided as usual but still sheds light on an otherwise cloudy world. I have friends on all sides of the spectrum, and I'd love to hear your two cents before I put up a follow-up post with my own. To be honest, I don't fully know my own opinion although I have a fairly good idea.
Here's another question - even if you are for harm reduction and are morally pro-safe injection sites, are you willing to actually be the one to hand them the needle? I ask this because I think there's a somewhat hypocritical line here where people vocalize support but if push came to shove, they wouldn't do it. So think about that before you answer.
So, what do you think? Email me or comment on this post if you get a chance! :)
This is one of those blog posts where I withhold my opinion (whoa - do those even exist?) and ask for yours. What do you think of safe injection sites like the one in Vancouver? The concept is harm reduction. The fifth estate did a show on it that is somewhat one-sided as usual but still sheds light on an otherwise cloudy world. I have friends on all sides of the spectrum, and I'd love to hear your two cents before I put up a follow-up post with my own. To be honest, I don't fully know my own opinion although I have a fairly good idea.
Here's another question - even if you are for harm reduction and are morally pro-safe injection sites, are you willing to actually be the one to hand them the needle? I ask this because I think there's a somewhat hypocritical line here where people vocalize support but if push came to shove, they wouldn't do it. So think about that before you answer.
So, what do you think? Email me or comment on this post if you get a chance! :)
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Doctor's Wife
Here's a funny story that happened today.
Jules and I had been discussing ER - we both used to be big fans back in the day when it was good. Neither of us have watched it for a few years, but as the season finale approached, we were discussing the good ol' days and how hot Dr. Ross was and how we both needed to find pediatricians that look like George Clooney to marry. (this may be why we are still single).
Anyways, we decided to watch this season's episode where Dr. Ross makes a special guest appearance, for old times' sake. We regularly have shallow hot movie nights - where we rent a movie (last time was 30 nights or whatever that vampire one with Josh Hartnett was), and lament the lack of boyfriends in our lives while actually really enjoying the fact that we're single, giggly, and can share times like this with each other because of it.
So there we are, snuggled up into blankets on the couch, chocolate marshmallow ice cream in hand, about to start watching. And the funny thought flashes through my mind, that if Julia were to be called in, then I'd understand how people who are married to doctors feel. You know, when you get all sexy in your red negligee, candlelit bedroom, and he comes in and just as you're getting started, the pager is the only thing that gets off.
Except in Julia's and my case, it was worse. Many people have told me that chocolate marshmallow ice cream is, in fact, better than sex. And Dr. Ross is definitely hotter than anyone in real life. Yet there we were, ice-cream spoon half-way to mouth, when an unmistakeable beeping filled the room. We both groaned, and she went off to answer the call. On her way out she said she was a little thirsty. Like a typical good wife, I said: "Here, I just washed your water bottle, take it with you." And then she was off.
*Sigh* Although I firmly resist the nurse-doctor cliche, it comes to mind that it may already be too late. Even if I never get married to a doctor, I'm left in the default position of living with one. Well, nothing to do but put on my apron and bake her some cookies for when she gets home. What else can a wife do?
P.S. Jules if you read this from the hospital, I'm not actually baking you cookies. Lower your expectations.
Jules and I had been discussing ER - we both used to be big fans back in the day when it was good. Neither of us have watched it for a few years, but as the season finale approached, we were discussing the good ol' days and how hot Dr. Ross was and how we both needed to find pediatricians that look like George Clooney to marry. (this may be why we are still single).
Anyways, we decided to watch this season's episode where Dr. Ross makes a special guest appearance, for old times' sake. We regularly have shallow hot movie nights - where we rent a movie (last time was 30 nights or whatever that vampire one with Josh Hartnett was), and lament the lack of boyfriends in our lives while actually really enjoying the fact that we're single, giggly, and can share times like this with each other because of it.
So there we are, snuggled up into blankets on the couch, chocolate marshmallow ice cream in hand, about to start watching. And the funny thought flashes through my mind, that if Julia were to be called in, then I'd understand how people who are married to doctors feel. You know, when you get all sexy in your red negligee, candlelit bedroom, and he comes in and just as you're getting started, the pager is the only thing that gets off.
Except in Julia's and my case, it was worse. Many people have told me that chocolate marshmallow ice cream is, in fact, better than sex. And Dr. Ross is definitely hotter than anyone in real life. Yet there we were, ice-cream spoon half-way to mouth, when an unmistakeable beeping filled the room. We both groaned, and she went off to answer the call. On her way out she said she was a little thirsty. Like a typical good wife, I said: "Here, I just washed your water bottle, take it with you." And then she was off.
*Sigh* Although I firmly resist the nurse-doctor cliche, it comes to mind that it may already be too late. Even if I never get married to a doctor, I'm left in the default position of living with one. Well, nothing to do but put on my apron and bake her some cookies for when she gets home. What else can a wife do?
P.S. Jules if you read this from the hospital, I'm not actually baking you cookies. Lower your expectations.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
World Malaria Day
Many people are shocked to learn that every 30 seconds, a child dies of malaria. Malaria is both preventable and curable. Today is the second World Malaria Day - created in response to the concerns over how this illness keeps killing people.
Malaria is terrible - fevers, convulsions, hallucinations, pain, nausea and vomiting... it mainly kills children and pregnant women, but over 500 million people worldwide become severely ill from it.
So be aware - next time you travel overseas and take your anti-malaria pills, be grateful that you have access to them. I know it's a luxury that I have taken for granted in the past. Also, try to find an agency that gives out insecticide-treated bed nets, and find a way to support them. There is a huge need, and not enough help.
Malaria is terrible - fevers, convulsions, hallucinations, pain, nausea and vomiting... it mainly kills children and pregnant women, but over 500 million people worldwide become severely ill from it.
So be aware - next time you travel overseas and take your anti-malaria pills, be grateful that you have access to them. I know it's a luxury that I have taken for granted in the past. Also, try to find an agency that gives out insecticide-treated bed nets, and find a way to support them. There is a huge need, and not enough help.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Dreamer
So, I didn't realize just how cliche my childhood girly imaginary world was until I saw this episode of The Simpsons. For pretty much the entire episode, I was back in my 9-year-old make-believe world. And had Josh Groban been singing back then, he would have made my theme songs too.
It's kind of humbling to watch a satire that makes fun of something you thought was uniquely yours. I went through at least half the show wondering why it was funny before I realized I needed to learn to laugh at myself to get it. Honestly, the Josh Groban parts transported me into my own fairy dream world, and I thought it was beautiful. It's a little bit sad that I don't live in that imaginative mindset anymore; I've grown up and like Lisa, have chosen to live in the real world. But there's a part of me that goes back to visit sometimes, and if that makes me crazy, well, then I'll laugh at myself when I get home again.
It's kind of humbling to watch a satire that makes fun of something you thought was uniquely yours. I went through at least half the show wondering why it was funny before I realized I needed to learn to laugh at myself to get it. Honestly, the Josh Groban parts transported me into my own fairy dream world, and I thought it was beautiful. It's a little bit sad that I don't live in that imaginative mindset anymore; I've grown up and like Lisa, have chosen to live in the real world. But there's a part of me that goes back to visit sometimes, and if that makes me crazy, well, then I'll laugh at myself when I get home again.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Hidden Talent
I realize this happened a little while ago and I'm a bit behind the times - but I'm in school and so it must be expected.
Some of you may already have heard of Susan Boyle - the woman who rocked Britain's Got Talent. I recently watched this video of her, and I was so shocked.
I think that one of the judges said it well - this was a huge wake-up call. There is something in me that wants to pick on the 47-year-old obnoxious woman who's never been kissed but is on the prowl. We blast her, roll our eyes, and just dislike her. But there was also something in me that was kind of rooting for her, although I'd never admit it. It's the junior high scene all over again - she doesn't fit in.
Listening to her sing brought tears to my eyes, because I remembered - this is why Jesus hung out with the outsiders. There is so much undiscovered beauty in the mess, and if you give someone half a chance, they show you.
It's the same thing with bullying - all kids have so much potential, and yet some are labeled "in" and others "out". Same thing happens with religion - some people are "in" and some are "out". What would happen if we started seeing every person as a child of God?
Some of you may already have heard of Susan Boyle - the woman who rocked Britain's Got Talent. I recently watched this video of her, and I was so shocked.
I think that one of the judges said it well - this was a huge wake-up call. There is something in me that wants to pick on the 47-year-old obnoxious woman who's never been kissed but is on the prowl. We blast her, roll our eyes, and just dislike her. But there was also something in me that was kind of rooting for her, although I'd never admit it. It's the junior high scene all over again - she doesn't fit in.
Listening to her sing brought tears to my eyes, because I remembered - this is why Jesus hung out with the outsiders. There is so much undiscovered beauty in the mess, and if you give someone half a chance, they show you.
It's the same thing with bullying - all kids have so much potential, and yet some are labeled "in" and others "out". Same thing happens with religion - some people are "in" and some are "out". What would happen if we started seeing every person as a child of God?
Then the King will say to those on his right, "Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me."- Matthew 25:34-40
Then the righteous will answer him, "Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?"
The King will reply, "I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me."
Sunday, April 05, 2009
Kiva
So I've started lending through Kiva.org. I heard about it a little while ago but due to my innate skepticism of many NGOs, brought about by learning how so many have well-intentionedly screwed people over, I took my time in researching them before deciding to hop on board.
You can check out the Kiva website yourself, but they basically facilitate person-person microcredit lending. From what I can tell, a person will be working with a reputable, well-established local non-profit agency in a financially impoverished area of the world, where they can't get loans from banks. This well-established agency then works with Kiva to post this entrepreneur's information online where people who have extra funds can see it. Kiva helps the people with the money to lend it out online (through Paypal) to the people without, over a pre-determined time frame. When the time frame is up, the entrepreneur pays the money back to the person who lent it out. The entrepreneur also has to pay interest to the non-profit agency. Kiva works by separate donations from people in wealthy nations (100% of the lending funds go to the entrepreneur).
The only legit criticism I've found of Kiva is that sometimes the interest rates that the entrepreneur has to pay back are really high. While this is true, one of the difficulties of microcredit is that interest rates are higher than what we can expect in Canada. However, if you look at each local partner's profile before you lend, you can see a comparison between their interest rate and the normal interest rate for the area if the person were to find another source. Keeping in mind that the local agency's interest rate is lower, and also that they are not-for-profit, I think that Kiva's mission is still valid and effective. Gauge this for yourself, though.
Kiva does a really good job of screening local partners as well as entrepreneurs, and they've got a default rate of 0.02%, which means that 99.98% of loans are fully repaid. For me this isn't a huge issue, because the Bible tells us to lend without expecting to be repaid. If I'm repaid, great, I'll shuffle those funds into a new loan so I can keep lending out money. But if not, it's not a big deal, the only loss is that I'll have less funds available to lend out to others.
Anyways, I urge you all to check it out - there's something really special about knowing exactly who your money is going to and why - and it's super easy to use Paypal to do it. I think the idea is brilliant and I'm trying to spread the news.
You can check out the Kiva website yourself, but they basically facilitate person-person microcredit lending. From what I can tell, a person will be working with a reputable, well-established local non-profit agency in a financially impoverished area of the world, where they can't get loans from banks. This well-established agency then works with Kiva to post this entrepreneur's information online where people who have extra funds can see it. Kiva helps the people with the money to lend it out online (through Paypal) to the people without, over a pre-determined time frame. When the time frame is up, the entrepreneur pays the money back to the person who lent it out. The entrepreneur also has to pay interest to the non-profit agency. Kiva works by separate donations from people in wealthy nations (100% of the lending funds go to the entrepreneur).
The only legit criticism I've found of Kiva is that sometimes the interest rates that the entrepreneur has to pay back are really high. While this is true, one of the difficulties of microcredit is that interest rates are higher than what we can expect in Canada. However, if you look at each local partner's profile before you lend, you can see a comparison between their interest rate and the normal interest rate for the area if the person were to find another source. Keeping in mind that the local agency's interest rate is lower, and also that they are not-for-profit, I think that Kiva's mission is still valid and effective. Gauge this for yourself, though.
Kiva does a really good job of screening local partners as well as entrepreneurs, and they've got a default rate of 0.02%, which means that 99.98% of loans are fully repaid. For me this isn't a huge issue, because the Bible tells us to lend without expecting to be repaid. If I'm repaid, great, I'll shuffle those funds into a new loan so I can keep lending out money. But if not, it's not a big deal, the only loss is that I'll have less funds available to lend out to others.
Anyways, I urge you all to check it out - there's something really special about knowing exactly who your money is going to and why - and it's super easy to use Paypal to do it. I think the idea is brilliant and I'm trying to spread the news.
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