Hello Friends!
It's not Monday, but I couldn't wait to post something that's on my heart. I don't know where you are on your journey of life, but with the post I shared before, you may be wondering, why care for the poor? To some it may be obvious, but let's face it, if you've grown up in the United States, you have most likely been influenced by narratives like The American Dream and Rags to Riches stories-- ideas that if you work hard enough and try hard enough, anything can happen--you can rise above the bleakest circumstances and make all your dreams come true. Hand in hand with these narratives is the idea of rugged individualism, a sort of every-man-for-himself mentality. Unlike many societies, American society in general is all about individualism, about expressing yourself however you want to, and about carrying your own weight. All of these can be good things, but one of the problems that arises from such ideologies is that those who can carry their own weight tend to project their own experiences onto others--people who may have not had the same advantages and successes that they have.
I am reading a book right now by Scot McKnight entitled One.Life: Jesus Calls We Follow. In his book McKnight talks about something he learned during a brief time he spent in South Africa. He says, "There is something that gives [Africans] one history, a powerful memory and identity, something that gives them hope and a dream. That something is found in the word Ubuntu." McKnight explains that the Bantu word Ubuntu is derived from the following phrase: Umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu, meaning, "A person is a person through [other] persons." McKnight goes on to say that "We are not alone, and we run the risk of ruining ourselves if we try to be alone. We are designed to connect to others who are also designed to connect." The problem with American individualism is that it fails to take into account how interconnected we all really are. How we need one another. At it's core is a pride that says, I got here on my own and I don't need anyone's help, and a selfishness that says, if I can do it, then so can you, and I don't need to help you. All the while such individualists forget that surely someone helped them along the way to get to where they have arrived. Did they have parents who raised them? Did they receive a scholarship? Was there a janitor at their schools who cleaned the toilets? Was there a whole city infrastructure that allowed them to take a bus or drive or walk on paved roads? How foolish we are to think that we ever really accomplish anything completely on our own! We as Americans could stand to learn from the African wisdom of Ubuntu. Truly, a person is a person through other persons. And other people need us just as we need them.
I have a confession to make. There was a time in my life when I looked at homeless people and thought, why don't they just get a job? I called them "bums," and even if I did help them out in some way, it was with a condescending attitude. I had no idea how complicated each of their stories could be, and I assumed that "just getting a job" would fix all their problems. I remember also when one of my close friends was very passionate about the plight of the Invisible Children in Africa, I mentally gave her a pat on the head, thinking her passion was misguided and juvenile, and after all, didn't Jesus say, "The poor will always be among you"? Raise your hand if you've ever used those words of Jesus to excuse yourself from helping the poor. If you haven't used them yourself, you've probably heard someone else do it. Where in the world do we get this idea? Was Jesus bipolar? After all, in Luke's gospel he announces his ministry by saying:
"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives
and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty
those who are oppressed,
to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor" (Luke 4-18-19).
I'm no Bible scholar, but it seems to me that Jesus' statement about the poor always being with you (you can read about it in Matthew 26:6-13) is more of an assumption that we will always have a responsibility and opportunity to care for the poor, than it is an "out" for not caring for them. Matthew's account seems to be a special circumstance in which Jesus is honoring and defending a woman for her lavish and heart-felt worship. Much like Jesus' disciples not fasting while He was present with them in bodily form, Jesus encouraged certain behavior while He was physically with his disciples, knowing that things would change after he ascended to his Father. So, now we fast, because the Bridegroom is not here with us in human form, and now our lavish worship, is caring for the poor rather than pouring out expensive perfume on Jesus' actual feet. In fact, Jesus says as much in Matthew 25: 34-40:
Then the King will say to those on his right,
'Come, you who are blessed by my Father,
inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation
of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food,
I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and
you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me,
I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.'
Then the righteous will answer him, saying,
'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you,
or thirsty and give you drink? And When did we see you a stranger
and welcome you, or naked and clothe you?
And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?
And the King will answer them,'Truly, I say to you,
as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.'
So, why should we care for the poor?
1. We need each other. Ubuntu.
2. It was part of Jesus' mission. And if we want to follow him we should be about what He was about.
3. Jesus tells us to (this should be #1), and in doing so we actually end up serving and worshiping Him.
There is a whole lot more that could be said about this issue, and many more places in the Bible that talk about caring for the poor, but these are the things that come to mind, and I think might be a good place to start. And if we had no other examples in Scripture, and no other insights into culture, I think Jesus' command to "love your neighbor as yourself" (Matthew 22:39) should be motivation enough to step down from our little thrones and to lay our lives low in love for others.
If all you knew to do was to love your neighbor as yourself, how would you respond to the needs of the world?
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Monday, August 27, 2012
Compassion Blog Month
Hey Friends!
I want to tell you about an exciting opportunity that has come into my life! Just last week I signed up with Compassion International to be a blogger for their organization. What this means is simply that I will use my blog as an avenue to help raise awareness about the needs of children around the world, and the opportunity to sponsor them through Compassion's wonderful program.I will be given assignments to write about a couple times a month that will help get the creative juices flowing and hopefully help us all think a bit more about how we can help children who have become victims of poverty. This is not all that my blog will be used for, but it is one way small way that I can be a voice for children who desperately need love and hope.
When I signed up, I had no idea that just around the corner, in September, would be what Compassion calls "Blog Month." Blog month is a concentrated time of vigorous blogging, and trying to raise up as many child sponsors as possible--3,108 to be precise! One of the "prizes" to keep us bloggers motivated is the opportunity to travel with a group of bloggers (and to blog while on the trip) to one of the countries where Compassion works. This would be an amazing chance to witness Compassion's ministry to the poor, as well as an exciting way motivate others to sponsor children! I would be absolutely THRILLED to be blessed with an opportunity like this. But more importantly, whether I "win" or not, I feel extremely excited and blessed to be a part of this effort and hope that many children will gain a loving sponsor as a result of Blog Month!!
So, every week in September, meet me here, where I will be blogging on a topic related to poverty/ child sponsorship! Will you join me? Here are four ways you can help:
1. Read this blog!
2. Tell others about this blog! Feel free to post links on facebook, and even share with your church or family and friends about this opportunity
3. Consider sponsoring a child! Please feel free to ask me any questions about what sponsorship entails. If I don't know the answer, I will do my best to find an answer for you!
4. Finally, if you would like to participate in this project through your own blog, feel free to join! At the top of my page there is a banner that says, "I'm participating in blog month for Compassion. Join me." If you click on that banner, it will take you to a page where you can sign up to be a Compassion blogger for yourself!
I'm excited about this adventure!
I want to tell you about an exciting opportunity that has come into my life! Just last week I signed up with Compassion International to be a blogger for their organization. What this means is simply that I will use my blog as an avenue to help raise awareness about the needs of children around the world, and the opportunity to sponsor them through Compassion's wonderful program.I will be given assignments to write about a couple times a month that will help get the creative juices flowing and hopefully help us all think a bit more about how we can help children who have become victims of poverty. This is not all that my blog will be used for, but it is one way small way that I can be a voice for children who desperately need love and hope.
When I signed up, I had no idea that just around the corner, in September, would be what Compassion calls "Blog Month." Blog month is a concentrated time of vigorous blogging, and trying to raise up as many child sponsors as possible--3,108 to be precise! One of the "prizes" to keep us bloggers motivated is the opportunity to travel with a group of bloggers (and to blog while on the trip) to one of the countries where Compassion works. This would be an amazing chance to witness Compassion's ministry to the poor, as well as an exciting way motivate others to sponsor children! I would be absolutely THRILLED to be blessed with an opportunity like this. But more importantly, whether I "win" or not, I feel extremely excited and blessed to be a part of this effort and hope that many children will gain a loving sponsor as a result of Blog Month!!
So, every week in September, meet me here, where I will be blogging on a topic related to poverty/ child sponsorship! Will you join me? Here are four ways you can help:
1. Read this blog!
2. Tell others about this blog! Feel free to post links on facebook, and even share with your church or family and friends about this opportunity
3. Consider sponsoring a child! Please feel free to ask me any questions about what sponsorship entails. If I don't know the answer, I will do my best to find an answer for you!
4. Finally, if you would like to participate in this project through your own blog, feel free to join! At the top of my page there is a banner that says, "I'm participating in blog month for Compassion. Join me." If you click on that banner, it will take you to a page where you can sign up to be a Compassion blogger for yourself!
I'm excited about this adventure!
Friday, August 10, 2012
Thick Skin and A Soft Heart
Some of my earliest memories revolve around a bean bag/stuffed bear clown. She was dressed in this purple polka dot outfit with little bells hanging from the collar, and I affectionately and appropriately christened her "Jingles," presumably on the Christmas morning that she became mine. I can still remember how, when my siblings would teasingly take her from me or when she was misplaced, my little voice would wail, "I want Jiiiiingles!!!"
In my mind, Jingles has become the symbol for my sensitivity. I was a very sensitive child, the kind whose parent just had to look at her the wrong way and she was in tears. The kind whose feelings were constantly getting hurt. The kind who, as a teenager, would run away to her room to cry rather than talk things out (and although this may like fairly normal teenage behavior, it was less of a storming-off-to-my-room in-anger kind of thing, and more like a just-talking-about what's-wrong-causes-me-to-burst-into-tears kind of thing. I guess I was sensitive but still wanted to be private about my emotions, so most of the time I just had no idea how to handle all my feelings).
So fast forward to today. I'm an adult, but inside I am often still this very sensitive girl. And being sensitive is a double edged sword, this thing about me that I know can be seen as a gift, but often feels like a curse. This illustration might be a stretch, but I think of the scene in the second Sherlock Holmes movie where Sherlock and the gypsy character, Sim, are dancing and she asks him, "What do you see?" And after observing numerous details throughout the room, he replies, "Everything. It is my curse." I feel everything. It is my curse. Okay, pardon the hyperbole. Maybe not everything. But I do feel things deeply. And it can be a real pain because I know I get my feelings hurt over silly things. Even more seriously, though, sometimes I can blame a wrong response on my part on the fact that I'm "sensitive," as if everyone needs to cater their behavior to me delicate and fragile nature, when really my pride was just wounded. Feelings are so wrapped up in pride and sometimes it can be tricky to tell what's really going on.
I was reminded of this recently as I shared with my husband about how I felt like this woman doesn't like me. I replayed a conversation that had happened before we were even married, almost a year ago, in which this girl had harmlessly shared something that at the time bothered me a little, but really wasn't a big deal. I thought I had forgotten about it, but lately her words had been rolling through my mind and I had been using them to fuel a whole theory in my mind about why she must not like me. When I told Geoff this he said, "I forgot that had even happened. Have you been thinking about that this whole time?" And I realized that even though it wasn't on the forefront of my mind, it must have been buried there somewhere all along. And I realized also, that by holding onto the hurt that I had felt by what she said, and reading into it things that she had never meant, I was being very unloving. You see, I was believing something about her that wasn't true and allowing it to taint my view of her, as well as how much I wanted to be around her. Instead of moving towards her in friendship, I found myself wanting to distance myself from her. Immediately I thought of I Corinthians 13:7 in which Paul states that "Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things" (ESV). If that's what love is, I definitely wasn't loving this friend. I wasn't believing the best of her. I was projecting my skewed perspective onto her and her actions, and essentially placing myself above her as judge. I allowed my sensitivity to lead me down a very twisted path.
But being sensitive isn't all bad. The other side to it is that I have the capacity to feel deep compassion for people. To hurt with them when they are hurting. And (on a good day) to rejoice with them when they are rejoicing. I can empathize with others. I can pick up on the emotional temperature in a room of people and try to act accordingly. God has wired me this way, and there is tremendous potential for good...if I recognize that sometimes my feelings distort the reality of a situation. Sometimes they turn me inward, causing me to focus on my wounds and how I've been wronged (whether or not I really have been) instead of outward, where I can see others and their hurts and needs.
So, tonight, as I was thinking through this whole sensitivity issue and what a problem it can be, especially for my poor husband, these words came to mind: I need thicker skin. But then I had this image of growing callous and building up walls around my heart, and I thought, no that's not what I want. And I realized that years of trying to stuff what I feel has had pretty negative consequences..And then this prayer formed in my heart, Lord give me thick skin, but a soft heart.
I want thick skin to be able to persevere through challenging circumstances.
I want thick skin to brush off words that hurt, but are simply misspoken--and to forgive when sometimes they are spoken to hurt
I want thick skin to bear and believe and hope all things.
But I want a soft heart that's sensitive to the voice of Jesus.
I want a soft heart to feel deeply for the hurting--and then allow those feelings to move me to deeds of mercy.
I want a soft heart to receive the love of my husband.
And maybe it's soft hearts that actually enable thick skin. Because hearts softened by Jesus operate out of truth instead of lies. Because hearts softened by Jesus have been forgiven much, and can therefore love much...the tough, persevering, best-believing, outward-seeing-kind of love.
By the way, I still have Jingles. Right now, she is making her home with my little niece, Hadley. Maybe I'll give her to my own little girl one day. And maybe I'll tell her about how the Lord can use her own double edged sword (whatever it may be), and use it fashion her into the image of her Savior.
"...My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." (II Cor. 12:9. ESV)
In my mind, Jingles has become the symbol for my sensitivity. I was a very sensitive child, the kind whose parent just had to look at her the wrong way and she was in tears. The kind whose feelings were constantly getting hurt. The kind who, as a teenager, would run away to her room to cry rather than talk things out (and although this may like fairly normal teenage behavior, it was less of a storming-off-to-my-room in-anger kind of thing, and more like a just-talking-about what's-wrong-causes-me-to-burst-into-tears kind of thing. I guess I was sensitive but still wanted to be private about my emotions, so most of the time I just had no idea how to handle all my feelings).
So fast forward to today. I'm an adult, but inside I am often still this very sensitive girl. And being sensitive is a double edged sword, this thing about me that I know can be seen as a gift, but often feels like a curse. This illustration might be a stretch, but I think of the scene in the second Sherlock Holmes movie where Sherlock and the gypsy character, Sim, are dancing and she asks him, "What do you see?" And after observing numerous details throughout the room, he replies, "Everything. It is my curse." I feel everything. It is my curse. Okay, pardon the hyperbole. Maybe not everything. But I do feel things deeply. And it can be a real pain because I know I get my feelings hurt over silly things. Even more seriously, though, sometimes I can blame a wrong response on my part on the fact that I'm "sensitive," as if everyone needs to cater their behavior to me delicate and fragile nature, when really my pride was just wounded. Feelings are so wrapped up in pride and sometimes it can be tricky to tell what's really going on.
I was reminded of this recently as I shared with my husband about how I felt like this woman doesn't like me. I replayed a conversation that had happened before we were even married, almost a year ago, in which this girl had harmlessly shared something that at the time bothered me a little, but really wasn't a big deal. I thought I had forgotten about it, but lately her words had been rolling through my mind and I had been using them to fuel a whole theory in my mind about why she must not like me. When I told Geoff this he said, "I forgot that had even happened. Have you been thinking about that this whole time?" And I realized that even though it wasn't on the forefront of my mind, it must have been buried there somewhere all along. And I realized also, that by holding onto the hurt that I had felt by what she said, and reading into it things that she had never meant, I was being very unloving. You see, I was believing something about her that wasn't true and allowing it to taint my view of her, as well as how much I wanted to be around her. Instead of moving towards her in friendship, I found myself wanting to distance myself from her. Immediately I thought of I Corinthians 13:7 in which Paul states that "Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things" (ESV). If that's what love is, I definitely wasn't loving this friend. I wasn't believing the best of her. I was projecting my skewed perspective onto her and her actions, and essentially placing myself above her as judge. I allowed my sensitivity to lead me down a very twisted path.
But being sensitive isn't all bad. The other side to it is that I have the capacity to feel deep compassion for people. To hurt with them when they are hurting. And (on a good day) to rejoice with them when they are rejoicing. I can empathize with others. I can pick up on the emotional temperature in a room of people and try to act accordingly. God has wired me this way, and there is tremendous potential for good...if I recognize that sometimes my feelings distort the reality of a situation. Sometimes they turn me inward, causing me to focus on my wounds and how I've been wronged (whether or not I really have been) instead of outward, where I can see others and their hurts and needs.
So, tonight, as I was thinking through this whole sensitivity issue and what a problem it can be, especially for my poor husband, these words came to mind: I need thicker skin. But then I had this image of growing callous and building up walls around my heart, and I thought, no that's not what I want. And I realized that years of trying to stuff what I feel has had pretty negative consequences..And then this prayer formed in my heart, Lord give me thick skin, but a soft heart.
I want thick skin to be able to persevere through challenging circumstances.
I want thick skin to brush off words that hurt, but are simply misspoken--and to forgive when sometimes they are spoken to hurt
I want thick skin to bear and believe and hope all things.
But I want a soft heart that's sensitive to the voice of Jesus.
I want a soft heart to feel deeply for the hurting--and then allow those feelings to move me to deeds of mercy.
I want a soft heart to receive the love of my husband.
And maybe it's soft hearts that actually enable thick skin. Because hearts softened by Jesus operate out of truth instead of lies. Because hearts softened by Jesus have been forgiven much, and can therefore love much...the tough, persevering, best-believing, outward-seeing-kind of love.
By the way, I still have Jingles. Right now, she is making her home with my little niece, Hadley. Maybe I'll give her to my own little girl one day. And maybe I'll tell her about how the Lord can use her own double edged sword (whatever it may be), and use it fashion her into the image of her Savior.
"...My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." (II Cor. 12:9. ESV)
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