I spent last week in Long Island, NY with a group from the Clemson Wesley Foundation, doing relief work in communities affected by Hurricane Sandy. Our home base was Hicksville United Methodist Church, and each day we would split in to two groups. My group worked out of Massapequa UMC. We were at a different house each day, and it was a privilege to meet so many people and to see so much of the area. Unlike Katrina, Sandy did not wipe out vast swaths of houses and land; but rather, the damage is spotty, but nonetheless devastating.
There were, of course, so many memorable moments throughout the week- moments in which I felt anger, frustration, joy, and sadness- but the most poignant occurred Thursday afternoon as my friend, Jessica, and I stood in the kitchen of Ms. Gennie, whose house was by far the worst I saw all week. As we picked up the remnants of her artwork, which had been flung from the back of the house and into the kitchen, I was filled with a mix of emotions- joy in being able to meet Ms. Gennie and stand with her in the midst of this tragic loss; anger at her crappy situation; and sorrow as I saw the sadness in her face. She did tell us that our help allowed her to begin to feel some hope and to begin facing the task of moving forward, and for that I am grateful.
I saw the Lord's face in those of the people we met and served. And I saw His kingdom come to earth as we talked and prayed with them and even as we ripped up floorboards and bagged trash. Like most mission trips I have been a part of, our presence was more important than any of the physical labor we did. Most of the homeowners we met were surprised to learn that we had come all the way from SC to help out. That's not to say that we are so great for doing what we did, but I do think that in giving up part of our Christmas break to drive 800 miles to muck and gut houses is a shining example of answering Jesus' call to help people in need and to bring His kingdom to earth.
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Friday, December 14, 2012
In Response to CT
Like most everyone, I am saddened by this morning's tragedy in Connecticut. The loss of any life is appalling, but the death of young children seems particularly so.
Folks are already shouting about the need for stricter gun control and tighter security around schools. (It should be noted that a lot, if not most, people who commit murder obtain their weapons legally.) Short of destroying every existing weapon on the planet and ensuring that no more guns/bombs are manufactured, I'm not sure what can be done to keep weapons away from anyone with the potential for violence. And don't we all have within us the potential to kill and be violent? I certainly do not seek to claim that I am above such behavior. We, God's people, are not essentially good, and I think there is ample evidence to support that belief.
Beneath concerns about gun control, security, and background checks lies a deeper issue. Donald Miller, in his book Through Painted Deserts, says that "Why" questions are more potent than "How" questions; and I think this idea is particularly applicable to the situation at hand. Instead of asking "How can we keep people from getting guns?" or "How can we prevent killings in schools and public places?" we should ask "Why do these things keep happening?" "Why do people kill?" and "Why do seemingly 'normal' people commit such atrocities?"
There is most certainly a need for greater attention paid towards mental illness, for no one in their "right mind" kills others with disregard. But even this is an insufficient resolution. We live in a society that cultivates violence and disregard for the worth of all people. We sit by idly while men, women and children die of preventable diseases. We drop bombs paid for with money that reads "In God We Trust." We are told that those who are different or those who "hate America" deserve to die, that they are less than human. We train young men and women to kill. And many professing Christians are at the helm of such rhetoric, leading the charge to the beat of the military drum. Soon, others become faceless bodies rather than fellow men whose lives are precious to our Lord.
If I seek to follow Jesus, I cannot advocate for or rejoice in the death of anyone. The lives of the children in Newtown, CT are no less precious than the lives of Iraqis, Venezuelans, Russians, Canadians, Mexicans, or even the leaders of Al Qaeda. As Jesus' disciple, I seek to value all human life as He does. And until we do so, how can we expect things to be different?
Folks are already shouting about the need for stricter gun control and tighter security around schools. (It should be noted that a lot, if not most, people who commit murder obtain their weapons legally.) Short of destroying every existing weapon on the planet and ensuring that no more guns/bombs are manufactured, I'm not sure what can be done to keep weapons away from anyone with the potential for violence. And don't we all have within us the potential to kill and be violent? I certainly do not seek to claim that I am above such behavior. We, God's people, are not essentially good, and I think there is ample evidence to support that belief.
Beneath concerns about gun control, security, and background checks lies a deeper issue. Donald Miller, in his book Through Painted Deserts, says that "Why" questions are more potent than "How" questions; and I think this idea is particularly applicable to the situation at hand. Instead of asking "How can we keep people from getting guns?" or "How can we prevent killings in schools and public places?" we should ask "Why do these things keep happening?" "Why do people kill?" and "Why do seemingly 'normal' people commit such atrocities?"
There is most certainly a need for greater attention paid towards mental illness, for no one in their "right mind" kills others with disregard. But even this is an insufficient resolution. We live in a society that cultivates violence and disregard for the worth of all people. We sit by idly while men, women and children die of preventable diseases. We drop bombs paid for with money that reads "In God We Trust." We are told that those who are different or those who "hate America" deserve to die, that they are less than human. We train young men and women to kill. And many professing Christians are at the helm of such rhetoric, leading the charge to the beat of the military drum. Soon, others become faceless bodies rather than fellow men whose lives are precious to our Lord.
If I seek to follow Jesus, I cannot advocate for or rejoice in the death of anyone. The lives of the children in Newtown, CT are no less precious than the lives of Iraqis, Venezuelans, Russians, Canadians, Mexicans, or even the leaders of Al Qaeda. As Jesus' disciple, I seek to value all human life as He does. And until we do so, how can we expect things to be different?
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
A Little PR
My brother, Vance, has started his own tennis company- Vance Exley Tennis. And due to some PR challenges, he has asked me to plug it here on my blog. My blog that no one reads. (My lack of readers did not seem to bother him, so here I am.)
I can personally attest to his excellent coaching/teaching skills because I participated in a class he is currently teaching. He is upbeat, fun, and patient- all wonderful qualities for an instructor. So if you or anyone you know in the Atlanta area is interested in getting into tennis or improving your existing skills, check him out. His twitter account is @coachvtennis.
I can personally attest to his excellent coaching/teaching skills because I participated in a class he is currently teaching. He is upbeat, fun, and patient- all wonderful qualities for an instructor. So if you or anyone you know in the Atlanta area is interested in getting into tennis or improving your existing skills, check him out. His twitter account is @coachvtennis.
A Call to Justice
IJM is a wonderfully faithful organization, and Jim Martin, their Director of Church Mobilization has written a book entitled The Just Church. I have had the privilege of being part of a launch group for the book, and the following is my review:
Jim Martin lays out an invitation to engage in securing justice with both courage and humility. He illustrates how doing so is an integral part of our faith in Jesus Christ--not simply because of the magnitude of suffering and sin in our world but because God has invited us to join Him in this fight.
The fight for justice and righteousness is not an easy one, but Martin reminds us that "love proves itself most profoundly in adversity" (56). It is in these difficult times that fellowship, rest, and the nourishment of scripture become indispensable.
In the latter half of the book, Martin lays out a framework by which churches can effectively participate in bringing God's kingdom to Earth. It is not a formulaic, step-by-step instructional manual but rather a blueprint by which fellowships of believers may recognize how doing justice is essential to their faith
The discussion questions at the end of each chapter are thought-provoking and challenging and make "The Just Church" a wonderful tool for anyone who desires to effectively join in the fight for justice.
Jim Martin lays out an invitation to engage in securing justice with both courage and humility. He illustrates how doing so is an integral part of our faith in Jesus Christ--not simply because of the magnitude of suffering and sin in our world but because God has invited us to join Him in this fight.
The fight for justice and righteousness is not an easy one, but Martin reminds us that "love proves itself most profoundly in adversity" (56). It is in these difficult times that fellowship, rest, and the nourishment of scripture become indispensable.
In the latter half of the book, Martin lays out a framework by which churches can effectively participate in bringing God's kingdom to Earth. It is not a formulaic, step-by-step instructional manual but rather a blueprint by which fellowships of believers may recognize how doing justice is essential to their faith
The discussion questions at the end of each chapter are thought-provoking and challenging and make "The Just Church" a wonderful tool for anyone who desires to effectively join in the fight for justice.
Monday, October 8, 2012
A Full Plate without Grumbling
This season of life continues to be so very busy, but I have honestly not found many reasons to complain. I really enjoy everything I'm involved in: internship, community group and Radius (my church home), and classes. While I do wish that I didn't feel as though I was constantly sprinting just to keep up, busyness is a gift... even though the sloth in me wishes I had more time to bum around and waste time.
With all of the complaining I constantly hear (and often have participated in), it's nice to feel that I don't have much reason to gripe. Of course, everything's not perfect, but I am grateful to have a new appreciation for the charmed life I lead and to be grateful for my cramped, crazy schedule.
That is all.
With all of the complaining I constantly hear (and often have participated in), it's nice to feel that I don't have much reason to gripe. Of course, everything's not perfect, but I am grateful to have a new appreciation for the charmed life I lead and to be grateful for my cramped, crazy schedule.
That is all.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
From Bitterness to Forgiveness- A Difficult Road to Travel
Over the past few weeks I have come to a realization of my capacity for hatred and bitterness.
A dear relative of mine has been treated very unjustly in recent weeks by people who led her to believe that they loved and cared about her, and I have since become fiercely protective of her. While I believe that my inclination towards protecting her stems from love, I know that my feelings towards those who have hurt her come from a place of darkness. The anger that has recently surfaced shines light upon the bitterness that I harbor, and it is ugly.
Yesterday I hit what I hope is the low point. In sharing the recent goings-on of the situation in question, I blurted out that I "hate" a certain person, and I dropped a few other choice words as well. I could hardly believe what I had said, and it was as if I wasn't even in control of myself as the words flew out of my mouth.
Thankfully, the friend with whom I was sharing all of this showed me great grace and validated my feelings while reminding me that within each of us is the capacity to treat others poorly. Don't I know it! I believe that we are all capable of depraved, atrocious behavior, and my recent thoughts and words have strengthened that belief.
At this point, I can only pray that the Lord would make me willing to forgive, for I am not yet at a point where I feel that I can do so. In all honesty, if hating those people would result in punishment for what they have done, I would continue to hate. But I know that the ill will that I feel for them will only hurt me and do a disservice to the God who I hope will instill in me a capacity to not only forgive but to love those who have done wrong.
A dear relative of mine has been treated very unjustly in recent weeks by people who led her to believe that they loved and cared about her, and I have since become fiercely protective of her. While I believe that my inclination towards protecting her stems from love, I know that my feelings towards those who have hurt her come from a place of darkness. The anger that has recently surfaced shines light upon the bitterness that I harbor, and it is ugly.
Yesterday I hit what I hope is the low point. In sharing the recent goings-on of the situation in question, I blurted out that I "hate" a certain person, and I dropped a few other choice words as well. I could hardly believe what I had said, and it was as if I wasn't even in control of myself as the words flew out of my mouth.
Thankfully, the friend with whom I was sharing all of this showed me great grace and validated my feelings while reminding me that within each of us is the capacity to treat others poorly. Don't I know it! I believe that we are all capable of depraved, atrocious behavior, and my recent thoughts and words have strengthened that belief.
At this point, I can only pray that the Lord would make me willing to forgive, for I am not yet at a point where I feel that I can do so. In all honesty, if hating those people would result in punishment for what they have done, I would continue to hate. But I know that the ill will that I feel for them will only hurt me and do a disservice to the God who I hope will instill in me a capacity to not only forgive but to love those who have done wrong.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
CJL - Bat-tastic
Last night after our final banquet, awards ceremony, and baby boats of the summer, we finally got in bed. And not five minutes later did some large creature hit my ear. So I shot out of the bed (after a few choice words) to try and see what it was. No luck, so I tucked myself back in. And then I spotted a white-ish, rather large creature flying around the cabin. It was a bat! And Angela's cat, Newman, went ballistic!
So we did what any other self-respecting CIT moms would do- we screamed for our CITs to come and save us. (We could not open the door because Newman is not allowed outside. And I didn't want to leave the "safety" of my bed.) After a few minutes of us yelling "CITs, come help!" interspersed with hysterical laughing, our brave 2nd year Cintern busted through the door with a broom. (That's a CJL girl in true form!) And after more hysterics and swatting at the thing, the bat finally left.
For whatever reason, it seemed very fitting that such shenanigans would happen on our last night. Honestly, moments like those are one of my favorite things about CJL. Some of my most salient memories are the craziest- things that would never happen in the "real world," that produce good laughs.
This morning our last group of campers leaves, and tonight is our staff banquet. This summer really is over, and I can't believe it. CJL means more to me than I can express, and I am so grateful to the people here who make it what it is and to the Lord for allowing me to be part of it.
So we did what any other self-respecting CIT moms would do- we screamed for our CITs to come and save us. (We could not open the door because Newman is not allowed outside. And I didn't want to leave the "safety" of my bed.) After a few minutes of us yelling "CITs, come help!" interspersed with hysterical laughing, our brave 2nd year Cintern busted through the door with a broom. (That's a CJL girl in true form!) And after more hysterics and swatting at the thing, the bat finally left.
For whatever reason, it seemed very fitting that such shenanigans would happen on our last night. Honestly, moments like those are one of my favorite things about CJL. Some of my most salient memories are the craziest- things that would never happen in the "real world," that produce good laughs.
This morning our last group of campers leaves, and tonight is our staff banquet. This summer really is over, and I can't believe it. CJL means more to me than I can express, and I am so grateful to the people here who make it what it is and to the Lord for allowing me to be part of it.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
CJL - Wrapping Up
One week left here in the woods.
All of our CITs have completed their requirements and either graduated and are ready to be staff members or are ready to move on to the second year of the program. There were a few hiccups along the way, but a number of them really blossomed and emerged as leaders. I am so very proud of all their hard work.
It was difficult at times to let them lead the way and make mistakes, but in doing so I believe that I've had a tiny taste of parenthood. (They do call us the "CIT Mom's," after all.)
Five of them are staying to intern, or "cintern," as we say. And two of them have been hired for the upcoming "Gypsy Week" session that begins tomorrow. In short, Gypsy Week means thirty eight 7-9 year olds descending upon CJL. And anything is bound to happen.
In other news, I co-hosted the talent show last night with our program director, Kellly. She rocked a red leotard, and I dressed as a lion. A special shout-out to Liz Hilliker for lending me the lion's mane and tail!
All of our CITs have completed their requirements and either graduated and are ready to be staff members or are ready to move on to the second year of the program. There were a few hiccups along the way, but a number of them really blossomed and emerged as leaders. I am so very proud of all their hard work.
It was difficult at times to let them lead the way and make mistakes, but in doing so I believe that I've had a tiny taste of parenthood. (They do call us the "CIT Mom's," after all.)
Five of them are staying to intern, or "cintern," as we say. And two of them have been hired for the upcoming "Gypsy Week" session that begins tomorrow. In short, Gypsy Week means thirty eight 7-9 year olds descending upon CJL. And anything is bound to happen.
In other news, I co-hosted the talent show last night with our program director, Kellly. She rocked a red leotard, and I dressed as a lion. A special shout-out to Liz Hilliker for lending me the lion's mane and tail!
Monday, July 16, 2012
CJL - Opening Song
Every session each unit writes and performs an opening song. I think that ours (Olympus, that is) was quite excellent this time, so here are the sweet-action lyrics. To the tune of "I Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore" by REO Speedwagon:
We can’t fight this feeling any longer
Olympus is a place you never go
We started out as campers, now we’re older
Char wishes that the Gypsies would just show
Meredith wants to stay at the barn forever
Snakes give Page a reason to feel fear
You’ll feel real country when you’re with Heather
Nancy gives our life direction, she makes everything so clear
And even in the office, we’re keeping you in sight
Fran’s a candle on a baby boat on a humid summer’s night
Angela’s in the ER with CITs all (through) night
We can’t fight this feeling anymore
We’ve forgotten what the AC is for
Becca brings the canoes into the shore
And sails without an oar, so clever
No, we can’t fight this feeling anymore
We’ve forgotten what cell phones are for
Sarah Kody’s rolling on the floor
Scooter crashes through the door
Amy, we can’t fight this crazy anymore
Regina has been crafting real hard core since she got here
Kelly’s running around in circles all the time
Katie always seems to buddy check you girls
Trish discovers tiny trash that alone you’d never find
And even as Mayne wanders, Sarah Beth keeps her in sight
We’ll keep you entertained on this coming Tuesday night
And August is getting closer much faster than we would like
And we can’t fight this feeling any more
We’ve forgotten what perfume is for
We all smell like the great outdoors
Those darn van checks take forever
No, we can’t fight this feeling anymore
We’ve forgotten what the mirror is for
And if a toilet clogs once more
We will lash the bathroom doors
Campers, we can’t fight the septic tanks no more
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
CJL - Overnight
Our girls (CITs) made it through one of their biggest tests/challenges: the "unsupervised" overnight. We camped out at Sewanee (Univ. of the South), but I cannot say that it went down without a hitch.
Halfway there, my co-director and I realized that we had left the girls' medicine, but luckily, someone was able to bring it to us. And in the midst of unpacking the vans, one of our Coleman lanterns hit the ground, and the hurricane shattered into a million pieces. Then later that night, there was a snake in the girls' sleeping area. And in the midst of moving their things, one girl was stung by a wasp, and another dislocated her shoulder, resulting in a midnight trip to the hospital. Our fearless director drove up and retrieved her and brought her back to camp. And around 3am, a giant tree branch fell about two feet from our tent; had it hit us directly, I believe I would currently be wearing a cast and sporting a number of bruises and cuts. Needless to say, we didn't sleep well.
It was a night for the books! Even with all of the craziness and challenges of being a CIT mom, I am absolutely loving my position. It's still an adjustment from my previous experiences with younger girls. It's difficult to let them make mistakes when I could so easily just do things for them. But maybe that's a bit what it's like to be a parent.
Halfway there, my co-director and I realized that we had left the girls' medicine, but luckily, someone was able to bring it to us. And in the midst of unpacking the vans, one of our Coleman lanterns hit the ground, and the hurricane shattered into a million pieces. Then later that night, there was a snake in the girls' sleeping area. And in the midst of moving their things, one girl was stung by a wasp, and another dislocated her shoulder, resulting in a midnight trip to the hospital. Our fearless director drove up and retrieved her and brought her back to camp. And around 3am, a giant tree branch fell about two feet from our tent; had it hit us directly, I believe I would currently be wearing a cast and sporting a number of bruises and cuts. Needless to say, we didn't sleep well.
It was a night for the books! Even with all of the craziness and challenges of being a CIT mom, I am absolutely loving my position. It's still an adjustment from my previous experiences with younger girls. It's difficult to let them make mistakes when I could so easily just do things for them. But maybe that's a bit what it's like to be a parent.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
CJL - Grateful
We're halfway through fourth session, and it's going swimmingly! I absolutely love being with the CITs; however, it's a significant adjustment compared to my experience as a UL with the munchkins in Romany. With the little ones, we have to do so much for them, but the CITs are self-sufficient. My counterpart and I told them that we are "available but not always present." So far, they've really proved themselves to be responsible and reliable!
As I made my way up the dark path to the office just a few minutes ago, I could hear the Oakledge girls singing to the right and another unit hollering and having fun on the playing field over toward the left. It is truly those sounds of joy and fun that make camp what it is. Those unexplainable moments that stick with me and make me so so grateful that the Lord led me to this place when I was just eight years old!
As I made my way up the dark path to the office just a few minutes ago, I could hear the Oakledge girls singing to the right and another unit hollering and having fun on the playing field over toward the left. It is truly those sounds of joy and fun that make camp what it is. Those unexplainable moments that stick with me and make me so so grateful that the Lord led me to this place when I was just eight years old!
Sunday, July 1, 2012
CJL - 3rd Session Recap
We
are officially halfway through! Three sessions/four weeks behind us and two
sessions/four weeks to go.
A
quick recap of this past session: coyotes running around at night freaking
people out; a nasty stomach bug that infected all four units and overloaded the
infirmary; CIT interns being amazing; me teaching tennis, archery, and water
fun; and the usual fun and craziness that is a one-week session.
Beginning
tomorrow, I am one of the CIT program directors, and I am so excited because
it's a position I've coveted for quite some time. More to come...
Sunday, June 24, 2012
CJL - Rolling Along
Things are continuing to roll along here at camp. We've got two sessions behind us and three more to go. Third session begins tomorrow, and it's just one week long. And then two more two week sessions, and we'll be done.
Last week we had a great deal of excitement. The septic system in Romany (the unit for the youngest campers) required replacing, and there was a copperhead in the cook's house. I was in the office with a bunch of my fellow staff members when the snake incident happened. As soon as we heard about it, we grabbed sharp tools and ran to address the situation. I think that incident is a perfect example of life here at CJL: a completely absurd situation that makes us laugh for days and brings us together. Not to mention how badass we are, taking out a copperhead with some shovels and an axe!
No doubt the next five weeks will hold more excitement, fun, and challenges. I will try to be good about updating this thing.
And for a tiny preview of what awaits after camp: August 1st-11th my parents and I are going to Seattle and Vancouver. And then I'll return to Greenville, SC!
Exley. Out.
Last week we had a great deal of excitement. The septic system in Romany (the unit for the youngest campers) required replacing, and there was a copperhead in the cook's house. I was in the office with a bunch of my fellow staff members when the snake incident happened. As soon as we heard about it, we grabbed sharp tools and ran to address the situation. I think that incident is a perfect example of life here at CJL: a completely absurd situation that makes us laugh for days and brings us together. Not to mention how badass we are, taking out a copperhead with some shovels and an axe!
No doubt the next five weeks will hold more excitement, fun, and challenges. I will try to be good about updating this thing.
And for a tiny preview of what awaits after camp: August 1st-11th my parents and I are going to Seattle and Vancouver. And then I'll return to Greenville, SC!
Exley. Out.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
CJL- Banquet
Olympus was in charge of Banquet for first session. And as the program director, I was in charge. Banquet is the final dinner of a session during which we set up the dining hall differently, eat food that's a bit fancier, and commemorate the closing of the session.
Along with help from my friend, Laney, I decided on "Kentucky Derby" as the theme. So here are some photos of our decorations...
Along with help from my friend, Laney, I decided on "Kentucky Derby" as the theme. So here are some photos of our decorations...
Thursday, June 7, 2012
CJL - Intro
So I'm spending this summer at my beloved Camp Juliette Low. I began attending CJL when I was seven years old. I first went with a friend, but after that year, she stopped going. But I loved it so much that I continued to spend weeks there in the summers.
CJL was founded by Juliette Gordon Low, founder of the Girl Scouts and an all-around fascinating, wonderful woman. Some points of interest about "Daisy," as she was known: At her wedding, a grain of rice became lodged in her ear, and when it was removed, she had lost most of her hearing in that ear, leaving her mostly deaf on that side. She began recruiting girls for the new scouting movement in and around Savannah and registered the first group of Girl Guides in 1912. CJL was founded in 1922 as a camp to train Girl Scout leaders, and while it is no longer affiliated with GSA, it remains true to her mission of training girls to lead, learn various skills, and grow.
One thing I truly love about CJL is that not much has changed since its inception. Some tents now have light bulbs, but we still sleep in the outdoors. And the JL Lodge is the original structure and is on the National Register of Historic Places. Since I've been on staff, I have come to appreciate the way in which CJL fosters so many skills in our campers. By living in tents with other girls, separate from counselors, they learn to handle their own affairs. Girls learn numerous camp craft skills such as wood chopping, fire building, lashing, and so many others. And the campers learn that they can have fun without iPods, TV, and computers!
CJL was founded by Juliette Gordon Low, founder of the Girl Scouts and an all-around fascinating, wonderful woman. Some points of interest about "Daisy," as she was known: At her wedding, a grain of rice became lodged in her ear, and when it was removed, she had lost most of her hearing in that ear, leaving her mostly deaf on that side. She began recruiting girls for the new scouting movement in and around Savannah and registered the first group of Girl Guides in 1912. CJL was founded in 1922 as a camp to train Girl Scout leaders, and while it is no longer affiliated with GSA, it remains true to her mission of training girls to lead, learn various skills, and grow.
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| Juliette Low Lodge |
 |
| Some of my fellow staff members |
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| My tent this summer |
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| Bathroom. Fancy, right? |
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Numb
Recently I connected with a few girls in Greenville who are interested in making an effort towards fighting human trafficking/CSE in and around the upstate. Two girls, in particular, have started an organization called HTAC (Human Trafficking Awareness Coalition); the work that they plan to do is good, but in talking with them and considering how much exposure I have to the reality, statistics, and true stories of this issue, I realize how numb I have become to it. The accounts of girls duped into entering the commercial sex industry and the stories of their exploitation do not move me.
Perhaps my reaction (or lack thereof) is due to having heard these stories so many times. Or maybe it's just not what fires me up. I really hate when people say stuff like "Well, that's just not where my heart is." That's such a pathetic excuse. Just because something isn't particularly compelling for you doesn't mean you are exempt from caring. I think that type of rhetoric is all-to-common in modern Christian circles and is a way for people to feel that it's ok not to care or contribute. And because of that, I don't want to use that same lame excuse for myself.
I am drawn to Latin America because I speak Spanish, but I do not want to ignore the rest of the world simply because I have a pension for Latin American current events. I do not care much about the environment (even though I recycle and wish that my car wasn't such a gas guzzler), but I don't think that means that I shouldn't care or shouldn't make a concerted effort towards being a better steward of the planet.
Jesus has instructed us to plead for widows and care for orphans, but he doesn't qualify those commands by adding "if that's where your heart is." He just says to do it. Of course, I believe that having an "attraction" towards a certain issue or region is a gift from the Lord and part of His equipping us to serve Him and His people. But having a specific interest is not grounds for ignoring other places and subjects. And if something is important and dear to the Lord, shouldn't it be important to us as well?
To simplify all of this rambling, I will say that I guess I just don't want to be a hypocrite.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
The Wanderer
Since Christmas I have been on-the-go. The majority of my weekends have been spent away from Greenville, and I have logged some serious miles on my car and in air travel. I catch flack from my Greenville friends about my frequent absences, and I understand their point; however, I really enjoy traveling and being a modern-day vagabond.
This past weekend I put about a thousand miles on my car: Greenville to Milledgeville, GA for my cousin's graduation; Milledgeville to Murrells Inlet for my nephew's baptism; and back to Greenville. On the way back from Murrells Inlet, I drove through parts of South Carolina that I had never seen before, and it was really cool. While driving through a giant pine forest, I passed a large clearing and realized that it was a giant federal prison. And soon after, I found myself driving alongside Shaw Air Force Base. Maybe all of the traveling I have done (not just in the past few months) has opened my eyes; or maybe it's that because my eyes have been opened that I so enjoy traveling. Whatever the case, freedom of movement is a gift and one that I value.
This past weekend I put about a thousand miles on my car: Greenville to Milledgeville, GA for my cousin's graduation; Milledgeville to Murrells Inlet for my nephew's baptism; and back to Greenville. On the way back from Murrells Inlet, I drove through parts of South Carolina that I had never seen before, and it was really cool. While driving through a giant pine forest, I passed a large clearing and realized that it was a giant federal prison. And soon after, I found myself driving alongside Shaw Air Force Base. Maybe all of the traveling I have done (not just in the past few months) has opened my eyes; or maybe it's that because my eyes have been opened that I so enjoy traveling. Whatever the case, freedom of movement is a gift and one that I value.
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| Our friends' dock in the Inlet |
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| Murrells Inlet |
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| The Inlet at night, with the crazy full moon |
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| My "nephew"- big brother of the one baptized |
Thursday, April 26, 2012
La Pena de Muerte
The following is a portion of an email I recently sent to a friend after he addressed an article I posted to Facebook. The article was about Connecticut's recent abolition of the death penalty, to which I posted the tag: "You go, Connecticut!" I truly appreciate my friend's response and the conversation that has begun. So here's my take, largely inspired by the writings of my favorite modern-day prophet, Shane Claiborne (Gotta give credit where credit is due.):
With respect to the "eye for an eye" topic, such instructions given in the Hebrew scriptures were intended to limit retaliation, not encourage it. If someone poked your eye out, you could not then poke out both of his eyes. Or if someone broke your arm, you could not then break his arm and his leg. And then Jesus came along and turned even that upside down. In short, "turning the other cheek" was a means by which the persecuted could nonviolently demand equality.
But with respect to the death penalty/capital punishment and, along the same line, prisons...
I believe that God desires more than punitive justice. If we are called, as His people, to bring His kingdom to earth, then what place do prisons and the death penalty have? The U.S. has the largest prison-industrial complex in the history of civilization. In some ways, imprisonment is an alternative form of slavery: corporations can hire inmates and pay them less than minimum wage, all the while denying them the chance to experience redemption. Is this what the Kingdom of God looks like?
But beyond that... If we seek to follow Jesus, how can we rejoice in (or advocate for) the death of anyone?
It is a common attitude to think "Well, what about people who will never repent or have committed the most heinous crimes?" To that I would say "Are we saying that some people are beyond redemption? And if some people are beyond redemption, then what does that say about grace, reconciliation, and the power of Christ?" Much of the Bible was written by murderers who were given a second chance (David, Paul). Redemptive violence is a lie.
Jesus was directly questioned regarding the death penalty when He encountered a crowd ready to stone an adulterous woman. True: her crime was capital, and her execution was legal. But just because something is legal does not make it right.
The early Christians were characterized by nonviolence; but that changed under Constantine. And that period gave rise to the violent military complex that dominates today and that is largely supported by professing Christians. How horribly ironic that we drop bombs and ignite electric chairs paid for with money that says "In God We Trust"! To those who see such contradictions, especially those who do not follow Christ, I wish we could say "This is not my Jesus."
Honestly, I used to support the death penalty...along with the military, exploitative economic policies, and some other things I no longer condone. These convictions are relatively new for me, but I hold them deeply.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
The crux of the matter
I do not align with any particular political party. And I honestly don't care that much about protecting the environment (Maybe that's awful.). But I can get really feisty over some issues (Commercial Sexual Exploitation; Human Trafficking; Israel's Occupation of Palestine; and the Military, in that I don't support it).
Sometimes what stokes my fire is not the issue itself but rather the widespread ignorance of such issues. I pride myself on being an informed citizen, and I have little-if any-patience with people who neglect to be informed or care about anything beyond their personal lives. No one can claim that it is too difficult to be informed. Up-to-date, legitimate news sources abound, and the invention of the smart phone enables people to quite literally carry around a computer with them at all times.
This rant was spawned by a recent article about the prostitution scandal in Colombia involving U.S. Secret Service agents and military personnel (http://www.aljazeera.com/news/americas/2012/04/20124174301070708.html). Upon revelation of the scandal, Representative Collins (R-Maine) expressed concern that the women in question might have been drug traffickers or spies who could have planted bugs. What an absurdity! She (and all of us) should be concerned that the women are likely victims of human trafficking and forced prostitution! She needs get a clue!
It is right that many have expressed outrage over the incident. But why should anyone be surprised about such actions committed by members of a society as sick as the military?
I do not write this to be callous or rude, but I do not care if any of the words in this post offend anyone. We all need to do a better job at recognizing that many of today's "issues" and hot topics are really not that important and that things important to the Lord and His will are often neglected. The possibility that Secret Service agents could have been bugged is not important. What is important is the fact that 27 million people in the world today are slaves and that our lifestyles and fucked-up priorities allow such atrocities to continue.
Sometimes what stokes my fire is not the issue itself but rather the widespread ignorance of such issues. I pride myself on being an informed citizen, and I have little-if any-patience with people who neglect to be informed or care about anything beyond their personal lives. No one can claim that it is too difficult to be informed. Up-to-date, legitimate news sources abound, and the invention of the smart phone enables people to quite literally carry around a computer with them at all times.
This rant was spawned by a recent article about the prostitution scandal in Colombia involving U.S. Secret Service agents and military personnel (http://www.aljazeera.com/news/americas/2012/04/20124174301070708.html). Upon revelation of the scandal, Representative Collins (R-Maine) expressed concern that the women in question might have been drug traffickers or spies who could have planted bugs. What an absurdity! She (and all of us) should be concerned that the women are likely victims of human trafficking and forced prostitution! She needs get a clue!
It is right that many have expressed outrage over the incident. But why should anyone be surprised about such actions committed by members of a society as sick as the military?
I do not write this to be callous or rude, but I do not care if any of the words in this post offend anyone. We all need to do a better job at recognizing that many of today's "issues" and hot topics are really not that important and that things important to the Lord and His will are often neglected. The possibility that Secret Service agents could have been bugged is not important. What is important is the fact that 27 million people in the world today are slaves and that our lifestyles and fucked-up priorities allow such atrocities to continue.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Nonconformist Women
In light of International Women's Day (yesterday) and a recent, ongoing conversation among my friends, I have some thoughts to share. Well, at least to put on this blog because I'm 99% no one reads this thing.
I feel that most girls believe that some personal characteristic (whether it be weight, hair color, mental illness, outspokenness, etc.) of theirs is a barrier to acceptance and/or earthly, romantic love. I am not entirely sure what I believe that is for me; but I absolutely criticize myself, blaming the way I am for my singleness. That it must be my fault, something I've done or haven't done, or some characteristic that I possess that should change.
Self-criticism- or dare I say it: self-hatred- is a real bitch, and we live in a fucked up society. Who could live up to the ideals set before us as women and girls? I sure can't. And while that's upsetting, I'm not sure that I would really want to. What a lame, boring world this would be if all women were the same!
The most precious women I know (my mom, my best friend, my best friend's godmother, and many others) are wonderful because they refuse to conform to some socially-constructed ideal or image. They are strong and make no apologies for that strength. They are beautiful yet do not look like robotic cover girls. They are talented, gifted women, and we would all be worse off without them living into their true selves.
I feel that most girls believe that some personal characteristic (whether it be weight, hair color, mental illness, outspokenness, etc.) of theirs is a barrier to acceptance and/or earthly, romantic love. I am not entirely sure what I believe that is for me; but I absolutely criticize myself, blaming the way I am for my singleness. That it must be my fault, something I've done or haven't done, or some characteristic that I possess that should change.
Self-criticism- or dare I say it: self-hatred- is a real bitch, and we live in a fucked up society. Who could live up to the ideals set before us as women and girls? I sure can't. And while that's upsetting, I'm not sure that I would really want to. What a lame, boring world this would be if all women were the same!
The most precious women I know (my mom, my best friend, my best friend's godmother, and many others) are wonderful because they refuse to conform to some socially-constructed ideal or image. They are strong and make no apologies for that strength. They are beautiful yet do not look like robotic cover girls. They are talented, gifted women, and we would all be worse off without them living into their true selves.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
My Lenten Thing-to-Give-Up
My Lenten practice involves self-denial. And while it is not terribly taxing (like fasting or giving up underwear or electricity), it has already been a challenge. I have decided to give up frivolous spending.
I very much enjoy shopping, and if I'm completely honest, I am materialistic. Often my thoughts are consumed with what I can and might buy next, and I often find myself fabricating reasons to buy something new. My spending has not led to immense debt or personal/social/occupational trouble, but it is consuming enough that I feel it merits attention. And to counter the decrease in spending, I have decided to take opportunities to funnel my money towards more worthy ventures.
My friend, Carlie, whom I met in Quito, Ecuador is traveling to Zambia for a mission trip; contributing to her venture is a far better use of my resources than going and buying some crap at Target.
Monday, February 20, 2012
A Bit about Parents
The existence/idea of parents has been on my mind lately. A friend of mine recently observed the 4th anniversary of her mom's passing; and unfortunately she is only one of many friends of mine who has lost a parent. I think that we expect to have lost our parents (or one of them) when we are in middle-age, but this early in life it just seems wrong.
In recent conversations with various friends and acquaintances, it has come to my attention that many of them are not close with their parents. Some of them even have bad relationships with them or no relationship at all. Even though such situations do not seem uncommon, they are beyond my frame of reference. I not only love my parents, but I genuinely like them. When I go back to Atlanta, I look forward to spending time with them. And they are more supportive of me than I deserve or could wish for.
I'm not sure why I felt the need to write this post; perhaps because these themes have so occupied my thoughts recently that "writing them down" seemed an appropriate response. In any case, I am grateful beyond measure for my dad and mom and the roles they play in my life.
In recent conversations with various friends and acquaintances, it has come to my attention that many of them are not close with their parents. Some of them even have bad relationships with them or no relationship at all. Even though such situations do not seem uncommon, they are beyond my frame of reference. I not only love my parents, but I genuinely like them. When I go back to Atlanta, I look forward to spending time with them. And they are more supportive of me than I deserve or could wish for.
I'm not sure why I felt the need to write this post; perhaps because these themes have so occupied my thoughts recently that "writing them down" seemed an appropriate response. In any case, I am grateful beyond measure for my dad and mom and the roles they play in my life.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
A Reflection on Whitney
The current hysteria and obsessive coverage of Whitney Houston's tragic death is quite disturbing to me. We are gluttons for a train wreck, as evidenced by the unfortunate success of trashy "reality" TV shows, including Whitney's own show with Bobby Brown. And why is it that once a celebrity's life gives way to his/her addiction, record sales soar and people come out of the woodwork to declare their love for them? Where is all of that love and concern when the person in question is in the throws of gripping addiction and life-threatening mental illness?
Unfortunately, the relentless media coverage, TV specials, and articles written about Whitney Houston's decline will not have any lasting effect upon people's view of addiction and its severity- much like the death of a high schooler in a drunk driving incident will not keep his peers from engaging in the same risky behaviors. The issue at hand is one of a deeply-entrenched, culturally-constructed attitude regarding our own vulnerability- or rather, invincibility.
May we realize that we are all vulnerable.
Unfortunately, the relentless media coverage, TV specials, and articles written about Whitney Houston's decline will not have any lasting effect upon people's view of addiction and its severity- much like the death of a high schooler in a drunk driving incident will not keep his peers from engaging in the same risky behaviors. The issue at hand is one of a deeply-entrenched, culturally-constructed attitude regarding our own vulnerability- or rather, invincibility.
May we realize that we are all vulnerable.
Friday, January 27, 2012
South American Trip Recap (abridged)
After Christmas I was able to do the traveling I was supposed to have done this past summer (after Colombia).
I left Atlanta on December 27th for Quito and arrived around midnight. The next morning I headed to the old folks' home where I worked in 2010. And I managed to remember all the right buses (three in all) and arrived around 9am.
The hogar is not like a retirement community here in the States. It's pretty dilapidated and honestly a sad place, not to mention the fact that an old folks' home is an anomaly in Latin America. But everything seemed significantly more depressed, and many of the folks who were there in 2010 have since passed away, including Melida, with whom I spent most of my time. So I knew it would be difficult being there, but even so I was not prepared for what I saw. In short, it has become a borderline abusive situation for many of the residents. Having witnessed this, I was able to report what I saw to Extreme Response, the organization with which I worked 2 years ago, and for that I am grateful.
From Quito I went on to Cordoba, Argentina. (I spent a semester there in undergrad.). Having flown all night, I arrived around 6am and went on to the house; and after a little chat with Mirta, my host mom, I put myself to bed for the rest of the day. The week was spent re-familiarizing myself with the city, eating delicious Argentine food, and attempting to escape the blazing heat, as it was the middle of summer. New Years was wonderful, complete with an asado and multiple fireworks displays, and party-hopping 'til 6:30am with my host sister, Mica, and her boyfriend, Juli. I can hardly express how wonderful it is to have another family in my life with whom I am so comfortable. I truly believe it is a providential situation, down to the fact that there is a spot for me age-wise among the kids.
After the epic week in Cordoba, I was to head back to Quito; however, a week before I left, I learned that my Lima-Quito flight was pushed back 24 hours. Praise the Lord, I know someone in Lima from a mission trip I participated in during undergrad. So my sweet friend, Beto, picked me up from the airport and gave me the most wonderful tour of the city, complete with a trip to Lima's new giant Jesus statue (a gift from the Brazilian gov't), a scrumptious Peruvian lunch, and a tour of the colonial/historic center. Never mind the fact that I had not seen Beto in 6 years- his hospitality was a precious gift to me, and I am glad to call him my friend. It is one of those friendships built upon our common faith in Jesus.
Unfortunately, the following day did not go as planned (as if anything in Latin America ever does): the flight was overbooked, and I had arrived too late. I was infuriated and even dropped a few choice words, after which I felt awful and resigned myself to the situation, deciding to just roll with it. LAN got me a hotel downtown and a taxi to and from, and I spent the afternoon roaming the streets, touring a couple museums, drinking Inca Kola, and even taking myself to see "Tintin" (dubbed, of course). It was a quite enjoyable day/night.
Due to the travel changes, I was only able to be in Quito for a day and a half, so I decided to forgo visiting my host family and my friend, Carlie, due to lack of time and logistical issues. This was a bummer, but the day with Catharine, Whitney, and Michael was precious and refreshing. Even with the less-than-ideal happenings, it was a great trip; and I am once again homesick for Latin America.
If you're ever in Quito, make sure to look up los Johnson; they live across from Plaza de las Americas and have a swanky apartment.
I left Atlanta on December 27th for Quito and arrived around midnight. The next morning I headed to the old folks' home where I worked in 2010. And I managed to remember all the right buses (three in all) and arrived around 9am.
The hogar is not like a retirement community here in the States. It's pretty dilapidated and honestly a sad place, not to mention the fact that an old folks' home is an anomaly in Latin America. But everything seemed significantly more depressed, and many of the folks who were there in 2010 have since passed away, including Melida, with whom I spent most of my time. So I knew it would be difficult being there, but even so I was not prepared for what I saw. In short, it has become a borderline abusive situation for many of the residents. Having witnessed this, I was able to report what I saw to Extreme Response, the organization with which I worked 2 years ago, and for that I am grateful.
From Quito I went on to Cordoba, Argentina. (I spent a semester there in undergrad.). Having flown all night, I arrived around 6am and went on to the house; and after a little chat with Mirta, my host mom, I put myself to bed for the rest of the day. The week was spent re-familiarizing myself with the city, eating delicious Argentine food, and attempting to escape the blazing heat, as it was the middle of summer. New Years was wonderful, complete with an asado and multiple fireworks displays, and party-hopping 'til 6:30am with my host sister, Mica, and her boyfriend, Juli. I can hardly express how wonderful it is to have another family in my life with whom I am so comfortable. I truly believe it is a providential situation, down to the fact that there is a spot for me age-wise among the kids.
After the epic week in Cordoba, I was to head back to Quito; however, a week before I left, I learned that my Lima-Quito flight was pushed back 24 hours. Praise the Lord, I know someone in Lima from a mission trip I participated in during undergrad. So my sweet friend, Beto, picked me up from the airport and gave me the most wonderful tour of the city, complete with a trip to Lima's new giant Jesus statue (a gift from the Brazilian gov't), a scrumptious Peruvian lunch, and a tour of the colonial/historic center. Never mind the fact that I had not seen Beto in 6 years- his hospitality was a precious gift to me, and I am glad to call him my friend. It is one of those friendships built upon our common faith in Jesus.
Unfortunately, the following day did not go as planned (as if anything in Latin America ever does): the flight was overbooked, and I had arrived too late. I was infuriated and even dropped a few choice words, after which I felt awful and resigned myself to the situation, deciding to just roll with it. LAN got me a hotel downtown and a taxi to and from, and I spent the afternoon roaming the streets, touring a couple museums, drinking Inca Kola, and even taking myself to see "Tintin" (dubbed, of course). It was a quite enjoyable day/night.
Due to the travel changes, I was only able to be in Quito for a day and a half, so I decided to forgo visiting my host family and my friend, Carlie, due to lack of time and logistical issues. This was a bummer, but the day with Catharine, Whitney, and Michael was precious and refreshing. Even with the less-than-ideal happenings, it was a great trip; and I am once again homesick for Latin America.
If you're ever in Quito, make sure to look up los Johnson; they live across from Plaza de las Americas and have a swanky apartment.
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