Haunted Hearts

A couple months ago Eddie and I watched the movie, "Blood Diamond". Shortly after that, I came upon the website www.eyesondarfur.org and found out about a similar bloodshed happening in this area of Sudan.

This last week I read more about the crisis in Darfur in Michael Frost's book "Exiles: Living Missionally in a Post-Christian Culture.". In it, he specifies that the ethnic conflict in Darfur should be particularly compelling to Christ followers. Besides the overall desire for justice that should be part of following Jesus, this horrendous conflict is a result of ethnic fighting between Muslims and Christians. The goal of much of this fighting is the elimination of Christians from the oil-rich southern area of Sudan. The war, the conflict, whatever this bloody mess is has killed over 200,000, displaced over 2 million Sudanese and 230,000 displaced from Darfur into Chad as well as 110,000 displaced Chadians. The numbers go on and the numbers are overwhelming. But then I really get overwhelmed. Much of the warfare is against civilians. Women are raped and brutalized, children are killed in front of their parents, food and water supplies are being targeted and families are left with just enough provisions to starve to death...slowly.

So, then, what do we do? Honestly, my first response is to dive into despair. How can I impact people a world away. How can I continue living in my middle-class white suburban home, buying groceries at the local grocery store and buying my kids back-to-school clothes? How can I celebrate my children's birthdays, lavishing them with gifts and eating cake with much too much sugar in it. How can I continue?

Then, last night I read an article by Lynn Hybels from Mutuality magazine. In it she talks about playing with her 4-month old grandson. In the midst of their play time, she remembers Grandmothers in Africa who cannot play with their grandchildren because they are so busy collecting firewood or trying to provide a living for these young children orphaned by the AIDS crisis in that country.

As she progresses in the article, she addresses despair at the hurt rampant in the world. She says, "There are two antidotes to despair. One is denial. Pretending you didn't see that pictures. Didn't here those screams. Didn't read that story. Or maybe you acknowledge the horror of what you saw or heard or read, but you pretend it's not your responsibility. There's nothing you can do. What difference can one person make? And where would you start anyway? Denial works. But it shrinks your heart. It makes you a little less human. It puts distance between you and God. The other antidote to despair is action - doing something, anything, to address the need."

I cannot change the world, but I can start making changes in my life. I can take action for those hurting. I can change my habits and thought patterns to be more attuned to and ready to act on the needs around me.

Lynne Hybels says toward the end of her article something that made sense to me. She said, "I long for you - and me - to celebrate every day the joys of new babies and stuffed animals and swim meet victories and family love. But I also long for us to let our celebrations be a bit haunted by the desperate needs of our sisters and brothers around the world."

I long for a haunted heart.

Vacation

We had a quick little vacation over the weekend. We took the kids camping for the first time. Eddie and I both grew up camping, but I had little desire to take crawling children camping, so we have been out of the camping picture for the last six years. We had a great time. The kids had a ball exploring, digging in the dirt, eating s'mores and just being kids. Eddie and I realized this is a lot of work with kids!


Elianna with a cheeky grin


Aaron & Nate on our hike up the Elk trail at Golden Gate State Park


Very cool tree we saw on our hike


Wild flowers on the hike


This was a really cool sanctuary created next to our tent area.

What Does it Take to Change?

A friend of mine challenged me today as to whether the knowledge of the love of Christ actually changes the behavior of individuals.

As I've been dwelling on this question, I couldn't help but think of a poem I recently read recently in a terrific book, Exiles: Living Missionally in a Post-Christian Culture by Michael Frost (co-author of The Shaping of Things to Come, also an excellent book.)

The poem is a call to reckless courage; to stand up against the injustice inherent in our world. (The poem can be found on pages 20 & 21 of the book)

What is, therefore, the task of the preacher (or church) today?
Shall I answer: "Faith, hope and love"?
That sounds beautiful.
But I would say - Courage.
No, even that is not challenging enough to be the whole truth.
Our task today is recklessness.
For what we Christians lack is not psychology or literature,
we lack a holy rage.

The recklessness that comes from the knowledge of God and humanity.
The ability to rage when justice lies prostrate on the street...
and when the lie rages across the face of the earth -
a holy anger about things that are wrong in the world.
To rage against the ravaging of God's earth,
and the destruction of God's world.
To rage when little children must die of hunger,
when the tables of the rich are sagging with food.
To rage at the senseless killing of so many,
and against the madness of militaries.
To rage at the lie that calls the threat of death and the strategy of
destruction - Peace.
To rage against complacency.
To restlessly seek that recklessness that will challenge and seek to change
human history until it conforms with the norms of the Kingdom of
God.
And remember the signs of the Christian Church have always been -
The Lion, the Lamb, the Dove and the Fish...
but never the chameleon.

This poem inspires me, but the real test of inspiration is change. Does it arouse me enough to transform my behavior?

I've read a lot of stuff lately that has challenged me and poked holes in ideas and philosophies I've always held to. I'm inspired to change and yet the fact is that my behavior today is not significantly different than it was this time last year...or the year before. I feel like I approach the line of change, touch it with the tip of my toe, and then move back again, frightened of moving outside what I know. I become anxious when I consider change. My natural self pushes back when my lifestyle feels as if it is being squished or pulled into a new shape, a new form.

What must I do to take those necessary steps...to become reckless? Here are a couple thoughts that come to my mind:

1. I have to understand the recklessness of Christ's love for me. The radical nature of his sacrifice and the work of God through history to reconcile relationships between humanity and God is both overwhelming and challenging in its scope. There's no way when you spend time considering that type of love that you cannot also recognize that it calls for a change in you. That doesn't necessarily make the change easier, but it certainly makes it more difficult to ignore.
2. I have to make a commitment and share it with someone who will hold me accountable. I've learned I can talk big, but the fact is if I don't follow these steps, my words are full of emptiness.
3. I have to honor and celebrate the small steps. I find it easy to discount the small changes because I have not yet attained the end goal. But even the smallest of changes alter my overall trajectory. In the book, "Exiles", Frost talks about what he calls "New Realists". These folks understand that much of their lives appear as a hypocrisy, but they also recognize that awareness and ongoing change is the goal.

Today I recognize some small changes. I'm volunteering at a booth for the local Women's Crisis Center in a few weeks. I started making my own bread a couple weeks ago so that I could afford organic bread. My children and I are talking about what it means to serve Jesus. I'm paying attention to where the clothing I am purchasing is made. These are small steps. They are not changing the world. But they are steps I need to make and I celebrate them and thank God for moving in my heart to coax me out of a place of comfort into these steps on the journey.

Pouting Girl

We purchased a slip and slide for the kids this weekend. Our oldest was all over it and apparently aquainted with the joys of sliding through cold water on a hot day. Our younger two took a while longer to "warm up" to the idea.

At some point during our backyard outing, our daughter was told "no" for something...I really can't remember what. Here's her response. She makes me laugh. You can tell by the sparkle in her eyes that the pouting is a bit fun for her.