I don't really want to be that girl at the table.

I think some people almost want me to be that girl who will tell them what a bad person they are for supporting the corporations they do. Sometimes I live up to that image, but in general, I don't really fit the mold.

I don't want this to be another example of making-you-feel-bad-because-you're-so-American guilt trips. I have heard numerous things in the past about the connection between conflict in the Democratic Republic of Congo and the special minerals, Coltan and Colbalt, which is found in your (and my) cell phone.

So just for the pure educational aspect,
and making us think a little more about how the world is so tightly connected,
and with the hopes that someone might be moved enough to dedicate time and effort to fighting this evil we unknowingly partake in,
click this link to see a report I've been reading.

Joy and Grief.

Last night I listened to my friends' band practice. I love Kelly's voice. I told her I wish I could take her with me and listen to her all the time. I asked her how she felt about moving to Uganda. Maybe a CD will do if they ever decide to record. (I'd even pay big bucks for it, that's how good they are.)

I love listening to Kelly sing because she has a beautiful voice that is calming and inspiring and lots of other things all at the same time. But I also love listening to her because of the spirit behind the voice. The girl is joyful. Probably more joyful than most people you've ever met. You should meet her and then believe me.

She was singing this beautiful song that had a lot of Alleluias in it, over and over again. And then at one point the music cuts, and her voice breaks in with a loud "Because he lives . . ." in a melody that I wish I could describe in words.

In between their measures when they break and try something different, Kelly's laughter keeps spilling out. It's explosive laughter, enough to make you laugh even if you don't know why you're laughing.

The strange part is that while listening to this song I had moved closer to the light and started reading one of my new library books, Children at War by P.W. Singer. While listening to this worship to a Savior who lives, I was pulled out of my own daily existence and briefly into the stories of others. These were some of the quotes:

"The rebels told me to join them, but I said no. Then they killed my smaller brother. I changed my mind." --L., age seven

"Seven weeks after I arrived there was combat. I was very scared. It was an attack on the paramilitaries. We killed about seven of them. They killed one of us. We had to drink their blood to conquer our fear. Only the scared ones had to do it. I was the most scared of all, because I was the newest and the youngest." --A., age twelve

"We were frightened because we were young children and we didn't know anything about the army. Even on the shooting range, when they tell you to fire, you're always very scared. For me to overcome that fear, I had to kill someone at the training camp. They brought someone to me one night when I was on duty guarding an entrance. It was a child, whose face they'd covered, and they told me he was a rebel, an enemy, and I had to kill him. That's exactly what I did. On the spot. With my knife. That night, after doing that, I couldn't sleep." --G., age 10

My reality is so incredibly distant from these stories. The worst things that have happened to me in the last week is that my phone was stolen and my car sort of broke down. That's the worst. My life is actually quite full right now with people I love and wonderful experiences. And I have much to rejoice over. It's easy for me to sing these songs and believe in a God who has given me much.

I had a very hard time reconciling the joy that came from these songs with the horrific stories that I was reading. I know there is hope and I know that God is Savior, Redeemer, Rescuer, and the list continues. I know that many of these kids who have experienced these traumatic things are unbelievably resilient and do experience healing. Maybe it's just that when I read these things while hearing these songs, two worlds collide and I know that the existence that I am familiar with is not normal. I am in the richest tier of citizens on our earth. I don't know what war really is, I've never had it in my back yard.
And with the differing experiences, I begin to wonder how our understanding of the gospel differs. For those who look to God to bring an end to the war that has ravaged their nation for over 20 years, what does their faith look like when people continue to suffer and die? I may have experienced some hard things and disappointments along the way but over all, I've had an easy life and I can attest that God provides and protects and answers prayer.

Here I am again. I could delete this whole post because I have no clean way of wrapping it up or giving that Christian punch line at the end.

In case you're wondering--I don't normally pick the most depressing book on the shelf to read. I have a stack of books that are related to the area in which I'll be working. Northern Uganda is pretty notorious (as well as Liberia, Sudan, Sierra Leone and many others) in Africa for the prevalence of child soldiers.

You're welcome to wrap this post up if you'd like. I'm giving up for now.

Decisions, Decisions.

This week marked 3 years.
3 years ago, I lost someone very dear to me to cancer.

I went to the cemetary to visit his grave. My time there was too short because I was on my way elsewhere. I feel like I should've taken more time.

Yesterday morning, I pulled out a piece of paper from a Richard Foster book I was reading. Strangely, it was the handwriting from this friend of mine I just mentioned. Speaking was too painful in those last months because of a surgery he went through. Instead, he would write his questions down and I would answer them. This was a remnant of one of our conversations. He was asking me when I was leaving for Uganda and when I would return. I said I'd be coming back August 18. He wrote, "Will I still be around August 18?" I wasn't sure how to respond as I sat next to him. I was fasting and praying and hoping with all of myself that he would most definitely be around.

I was supposed to leave for my second trip to Uganda on July 9, 2005. The upcoming trip was weighing heavily on me and Matt could see it. I'm not sure how I would describe our relationship at that point. I think we had settled that we might not be meant for each other in the long run. We had much in common yet we seemed to be going in different directions. But this, which had once been a blind date, had turned into a friendship that ran deep. I couldn't handle the thought of leaving on a plane, not knowing what the next couple of weeks held for him. His family had also become a family to me and I didn't want to leave them either.

"You need to go", Matt said, "This is what you were made for."

It was a decision too painful for me to make, so in all of God's grace, the decision was made for me. I woke up with a horrible back/neck ache that significantly hindered my movement the day before I was supposed to get on the plane. The chiropractor told me I should not be traveling alone in my condition. I canceled the reservation of my flight.

My friend passed away 4 days later as I sat by him and held his hand.
I can't imagine what those weeks would've been like had I been in Uganda.

After spending some time with his family up north, I decided to board that flight to Uganda and still spent 3 weeks in Uganda that summer.

Sorry for the on-line therapy session.

Sometimes I'm not as convinced as others around me of what I was made for. There are days where I think I have a pretty good idea but many other days where I don't believe the Matt's who say, "This is what you were made for." I lament over the people like him who have big dreams and lose their life at such a young age. Grief can easily turn into despair if you're not careful.

Going back to Uganda is a very small step. But I'm finding that as the years move on, every life decision is more clouded with the worries and anxieties of what I call "grown-up life". Suddenly I'm like the rest of the American populace who spend time worrying about comfort, income, school debt, the economy, and retirement. Following and believing seem to require more effort and intentionality than it used to.

I told my friend Sharon the other day that if I'm making big decisions, I like to make them while walking through a cemetary. It reminds me of how short this life is and forces me to ask deeper questions about what's really important. Making decisions in a cemetary might sound strange to you, but Sharon told me she thinks its wise. I'm glad Sharon's in my life for the days I feel like a crazy person. :)

I always feel like I have to wrap these entries up with a "moral of the story" one-liner. I don't know what it is except thanks to all of you who have walked through each season with me. You've been there cheering me on in the days I have a pretty good idea of where I'm going and you've been just as present on the days I am unconvinced of everything except that God has not abandoned me.

Thanks.

Highlights.

A friend and I just talked over dinner about highlights of the summer.

When I met with my spiritual director (and dear friend) today she reminded me that the enemy loves to steal our joy. And so often, we let him.

I think it's a pretty good discipline to see the highlights in the summer as well as each day that bring much joy. Here are mine for today:

*Seeing Alicia for the first time in what seemed to be ages (10 days) and getting caught up on the past week, like her purse catching on fire at the Psalters concert.
*Finding humor instead of frustration in how many times I can actually misplace or lose something in a day (or an hour.)
*Finally signing up to sell my necklaces at an artists market this Saturday.
*The joys of downtown GR in the summertime. (The river, Rosa Parks Circle, and Hopcat to name a few.)
*Reading with Carina at The Other Way. We attached a letter she wrote to a helium baloon and let it go--we watched it until it disappeared. She told me she might get her mom to bring her guinea pigs next week so I can meet them.
*Seeing my brother at The Other Way and remembering how much I really do love him. (Even after all those fights growing up--he turned out alright. :) )
*Having a meeting with some wonderful ladies at Women At Risk, talking about Ugandan necklaces, and hearing that they'll be including me in their prayer circles.
*Chatting with a dear friend who has significantly influenced my life through the years and is moving back to Michigan in September.

Psalm 126:3The LORD has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy.