Coming Alive

A little over a month ago, I wanted to do my own experiement.  So, I listed a need for people to respond to — for review of my resume.  I hoped I could get some solid feedback that would help generate some new job leads. 

One day, I met a person who said they’ve helped dozens of people get jobs and turn their career paths around.  Excited about my potential, I was eager to hear what he had to say.

The meeting didn’t go as well as I had hoped.  I disagreed with too many of his suggestions and thought his advice wasn’t very credible.  Really, who wants to read a four page resume?!  I left the appointment and brushed his words off my shoulder while I laughed at some of the comments he made in that hour.  I think I failed to mention the conversation I had the day prior with a guy who has been in HR for over 12 years.  He was among a handful of people who have told me if they were hiring, they would call me for an interview.  His advice was for me to sit tight and keep my eyes open.  I’m on the right track.

The right track that is, until my experience started to get slammed by a guy who actually didn’t know that HR is short for Human Resources.   A few days after our meeting, he sent me a few emails.  In it, he asked what it was I really wanted to pursue in life.  He analyzed some affilliations and recalled our conversation and he suggested that maybe I should pursue a new avenue.  Then he quoted my favorite set of words, “Don’t ask what the world needs.  Ask what makes you come alive and go do it.  Because what the world needs are people who have come alive.”

His criticisms of my resume were harsh, but he did remind me of my greatest hope in life.

Do what makes me come alive.  I have some good ideas of what those things are — I’ve just always been afraid to chase after it.  Until I get an email from a friend who is looking for a glimmer of hope or in her words, “happy/uplifting/encouraging/SOMETHING” to remind her of the beauty in the person she sees in the mirror.  Cause, that’s the person I see when I look at her.  If she was facing me right now, I’d remind her of our five steps to believing God and then I’d make her recite them with me as she counts them off on her hand.  Then, I’d remind her that I’m not sure I’d be doing what makes me come alive if it wasn’t for her constant encouragement and love. 

I come alive when I find ways to make life less difficult for another.  To you my friend, take a look at your pile of stones on the other side of the Jordan that has grown from small handfuls to a big memorial that makes people stop and ask, what those stones mean?  You, are a living memorial of the workings of God in your life.

I think I see the sun trying to make its way thru the clouds…
You, make me come alive.

 

A Hope in Beautiful

A morning like today has stirred my excitement for the next journey I embark on in less than a month.  Ethiopia is my destination this time.  Somewhere in the 16 day experience, a few of us will be  allowed an opportunity to visit the Addis Ababa Fistula Hospital.  http://www.fistulafoundation.org/hospital/history

Complications during child birth are a leading cause of death for women giving birth in developing countries.  In remote areas, women are sometimes in labor for days without any medical assistance or treatment.  Those who survive, often endure a lifetime of agony from severe internal injuries.  (NPR – January 17, 2007)

Yet, this hospital in Addis Ababa offers some women a rare chance at treatment and respite care.

It’s customary for girls to marry young — often times their young female body isn’t ready to conceive.  In the story of a 12-year old Ethiopian, when she was ready to give birth, her labor was three days long and people began holding her down and pushed on her abdomen.  When she finally delivered, the baby was stillborn.  NPR records her story by her sharing this:

“After I got home, and I started to leak stools and urine. Then I got very sad,” she says. “I started to wash myself, to cover it with some piece of clothes.”

The story continues:

“This particular girl has an extreme case of fistula, a condition that occurs when tissue walls within the pelvis are torn. Usually, just the bladder is involved. But nothing stops the leaking. In absence of professional treatment, women with a fistula sometimes will insert stones and rags in the vagina to try to stop the leaking. They are afflicted with horrible infections and a constant odor. These women are often abandoned by their husbands and families and become outcasts in their community.  Her family brought her to the Addis Ababa Fistula Hospital.”

It continues, “Obstruction in labor often occurs because the mother’s pelvis is too small for the baby’s head, or the baby is in the wrong position as it emerges from the womb.  Difficult labors can cause fistulas by tearing the tissue walls between the vagina and the bladder, and in some instances, the rectum.”

I don’t think we’re really sure what this experience will be like — but in all sorts of experiences I’ve had in the last few years, the one thing I want to be sure of — is that our visit delivers hope for these women.  Maybe I’ll start making some bracelets to give away while we’re there, after all, every lady likes jewelry, right?! 

I’m inviting you to be apart of our journey.  Share your ideas of what we could make or bring along that will be a reminder to these beautiful women that, “Where there is life, there is hope.”

To learn more watch: http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/beautiful/program.html

That’s what I’m going to do right now.

 

Corner of the Street

I pulled up to the stoplight.  It’s the same one I’ve pulled up to dozens and dozens of times before.  I hadn’t really thought much about this particular corner in a long time.  It’s probably been as long as I haven’t lived in the neighborhood.  That’s over 100 days already.  But, two times this week, I pulled up to the stoplight and read the sign the man was holding.

He’s out of work too.  He is one of many faces behind the growing unemployment statistic.  For the first time in all the drive by’s I’ve done in this particular neighborhood, I identified something that I could understand about the many people who frequent this corner of the street with cardboard signs.  The early months of being out of work sent me through a whirl of emotion and question.  With few employment opportunities captivating my interest since then, my attitude spiraled downwards.  It’s only been recently that I’ve taken notice to my upswing in mood. 

Though this man remains nameless, I understand the possible discouragement in his heart.  And though my situation may be a bit different than his, the desire to be useful to something is real.  Because in it, we find a little bit of value, a little bit of importance, and a little bit of satisfaction in knowing that we’re wanted – somewhere.

For one of the first times, I wasn’t compelled to give this man food or money — but I’ve recognized this corner of the street to be a place of story, all threaded with the same color.  And, I think that might be hope.  I said a prayer for him, that his heart would know encouragement and a glimpse of hope that will help him understand this time in his life. Or at least, help him to encourage the others who join him on this corner of the street.

 

Breaking the Cycle

Caffeine equals a migraine.  For me, every time.  I know I shouldn’t drink it and I pretend to fool myself when I toss the can in the garbage, hoping Jason doesn’t see it, knowing that if he does, he’ll be less than pleased with me.  Truth comes out when the pain reaches high intensity.   He asked last night, “Did you have caffeine?”  “Maybe.” I respond, fully knowing I did the day before.  “Don’t get mad — I know I shouldn’t have done it.”  And so I lay in bed, wishing the world for the pain to subside. 

I get found out every time I do it.  You’d think I’ve learned my lesson by now.  But some days, I trick myself into thinking this time, it will be different.  Plus, the lure of Jason’s “Throwback Pepsi Varieties” won my curiosity.  I popped open the can, mixed in a little bit of Rosie’s grenadine and sipped the bubbly beverage; nearly satisfied.  Until 24 hours later, the progression of pain begins.  Being the fighter I tend to be (a great characteristic of my mom), I wait to take any pain reliever — most times, waiting too long for anything to be effective.  Then, I enter a time of fully regretting the Roy Rogers I consumed in a hurry.  Swearing I’ll never do it again.

You see the cycle.  You know I’ll drink caffeine again — but you only know I will because you do the same thing in your own life.  You’re tempted to do what you know you shouldn’t do.  The lure becomes more desireable.  You do what you shouldn’t do.  Then, you reap the consequences yet another time, swearing this is it.

For those who have never experienced a migraine, the pain is absolutely excruciating.  So much in fact, you’d wonder why I would intentionally bring one on myself.  I wonder too.

It’s something about the lure of what I  shouldn’t have.  It’s the desire to rebel, to cross the line.  To do what I know is wrong.  The more I entertain the idea, the harder it is to resist and the more likely I am to give in to my own pressure.  It makes me think about sin in our lives and how similar the patterns to commit it mirrors my own struggle to say no to the caffeine.  If I know the pay-off to not partake in what I shouldn’t is greater than the full enjoyment of the latter, then why do I allow the cycle to continue.  Why not resolute to not ever again?

Probably because in the issues of sin, there is something else at work.  Trying to quit yourself, only gets you as far as your own self-will will take you.  Maybe, your failed attempts at quitting are trying to show you that possibly, you can’t do this on your own.

Knowing that God is faithful, you pick up your stone of remembrance (Joshua 4) and you march forward. Hour by hour or day by day — recalling to mind the moments in life when God’s hand led you where He wanted you to go.  And one day, someone may ask what your stone is for — and you’ll probably pause and recall the time in your life when you thought the cycle would never be broken.

 

Jimmy John’s Food for Thought #7

“Before you were born, your parents weren’t as boring as they are now.  They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes, and listening to you talk about how cool you are.  So before you save the rainforest from the parasites of your parents generation, try delousing the closet in your own room.”

Right on, isn’t it?  I talk to people all the time (including myself) who want to make a huge difference in the world.  I write about it, I dream about it, and I engage in frequent discussion about all the endless possibilities.  Considering the perspective, I’m never doing enough to feel satisfied in my attempts at ending poverty, hunger, or any of the other hundred issues circling social justice.  “Something is better than nothing,” right? 

Too often, it goes like this:  We’re so focused on making a dent in the world, that we forget about our world right here.  Or, we’re so focused on life where we live, we forget we have neighbors as close as a flight away.  

We’ll never have enough time or enough money to do the things we really want to do, so why not start today with what you do have?  If you’re waiting for the right time, you’ll be waiting for a long time because as far as our eyes can see, it never seems to be the right time for much.  I think the greater challenge is to do something, somewhere – no matter what your circumstance may look like.

And while you’re at it, don’t forget about the people in your backyard who could use your encouragement and generosity.  You may be looking to save the world, but your friend has been tapping you on the shoulder, wanting some of your time and you just never know the role you may play in “saving her rainforest” which might just influence the growth of your own.

 

Haiti and Child Sponsorship

Just over a year ago, I had the incredible opportunity to meet one of my sponsored children; Felizardo, in Mozambique.  The experience I shared with half a dozen friends was one that has changed my life in big ways.  Just this week, I was asked how the experience changed my perspective of child sponsorship, but I found myself struggling to answer the question.  The experience was so big, I often find myself without words to describe how incredible that time was.  This I know without a doubt, child sponsorship changes more than one life.

• It changes the life of the sponsored child and their family.
• It changes the lives of many living in the community with your child.
• It changes your life.

I will always be an advocate for child sponsorship.  It is a relationship unlike any other you could ever experience — especially when you receive a letter from your child.  Suddenly, the big world we live in becomes a place where you can make a big difference.

Like millions of other people, my prayers are frequent for the people of Haiti.  Like Mozambique in the Eastern hemisphere, Haiti is the poorest country in the Western hemisphere.  Oddly enough, Felizardo lives in Mozambique and Sergine lives in Haiti.  Two children I’ve grown to love in the last five years.

A few weeks ago, I received a letter from Sergine.  She thanked me for praying for her because she just gave her heart to Jesus.  She asked me to continue to pray for her family so they will come to Christ as well.  My heart melted.  I’m so thankful for organizations like Compassion International and World Vision who desire to make an eternal impact in so many lives by providing for basic needs – physically & spiritually.

I’m still awaiting word from Compassion International as they work to locate Sergine and determine her specific situation.  However, as concerning as this devastating and massive earthquake has been, there is a calm in the storm that Sergine will be ok.  Since her story is part of a better story, we have hope in her future.

The timing of God is always perfect.

Consider child sponsorship.  Your life isn’t the only one that will be changed forever.

 

Lesson #3

Lesson #3: Smile. No matter what.

When I was in Jr High, my mom frequently asked me if something was wrong.  When my mom asked me the question and I’d respond with, “Nothing,”  She would threaten to make me talk to our youth pastor until we got to the bottom of it.  I changed my attitude real quick.  I didn’t want to face what our pastor might see.  From time to time, I still think about that time in my life and wonder if parts of me have fallen back into those old patterns.

Naturally, I’m not a real smiley person, though I wish I was.  I’m working on it.  However, I can say that two people have mentioned in the last week that I have had a glow about me the last few months.  I’d agree.

I’m really good at letting life get in the way of the small things that really matter.  But the other night, I gave up the fight.  I laughed and I smiled more than I had in a long time.  And, I saw the same in my opposite.  It was fun to be silly.  For once, all of the situations that are weighing heavy on our hearts faded into the background.  Our spirits were lifted. 

It felt really good.

So, I paused and thought about a recent day when it rained and it was really chilly.  I thought about how some of my important details of the day fell through last minute.   There was nothing I could do, so I told my girls to put on some dance music and let’s have fun.

If only, I approached everyday with the carefree attitude that allows me to have fun, to laugh, and to smile so much my cheeks hurt. 

I’m learning.  It’s going to be a much harder life if I allow every circumstance to dictate my joy.  My world has really been shaken in the last two months — but my response has to ensure I keep living and not just surviving.

And when I smile, people will know I’m fully alive and not just getting by. 
That no matter what, I’m commited to the process, as hard as it might get.

Did you know…  ”The robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief.”  William Shakespeare, Othello

 

Lesson #1 & Lesson #2

Lesson #1. You can’t be afraid to ask for help.

I didn’t feel right about asking people for anything else.  After all, many of them celebrated one of the biggest days in our lives, just a few months ago.  Most of whom were incredibly generous.  The last week has been like this, “Kar, get out of my way!”  That was God speaking.  So, I said ok.  We sent a few more notes to our friends and continued to trust God in this calling.

I added the totals together a few days ago and texted my boy that we were about $714 away from our goal.  I went to check the mail yesterday to find an envelope with a contribution of $700.  ”Wow. They didn’t have to do that.”  I thought.  ”You’re right, they didn’t have to do that.”  As if someone answered me back.  Not everyone can go I was reminded.  Some people know they need to send.  To each of you — thank you for your generosity.  May God’s best be yours this year.

Lesson #2: You’ll have to let go some of your pride.

Deciding I needed new perspective on my seemingly hopeless job search, I submitted a request for help.  I took a shot at the possibility that maybe people would be willing to review my resume and provide some feedback that may help me become a bit more attractive to the future employer’s eye.

Friday, 1:20 pm:  Your request has been approved.
Friday, 1:34 pm:  Someone has offered to help.
Saturday, 8:01 pm: Someone has offered to help.
Tuesday, 10:21 am: Someone has offered to help.
Tuesday, 11:09 pm: Someone has offered to help.
Wednesday, 8:03 am: Someone has offered to help.

Who knew?  Random people who have no idea who I am are willing to help me.  It’s hard to lay down your pride, but sometimes laying it down gives you the fresh energy you’ve been looking for, for so long.

Welcome to 2010.  This will be a good year.

 

Write the Story

I finally did it.  I bought myself a new book and it’s full of inspiration.  It’s been long overdue, but thanks to those moments when you need to waste time — my perusement of the bookstore led me to my very own pocket muse for writers.

I’m really excited about it.  Somedays, just the thought of having it on me or near me makes me feel like the words I can dump on a page are endless.  It just flows — kind of like the water that pours from your faucet when you turn it on.  It’s probably more about the fresh energy I’ve been in search of for quite some time.  This book tells me I can do it.  Countless people tell me I can do it (Thank you!).  But my constant strife for the perfection I will never attain wins too often.  For some reason, somewhere along the way, I picked up a standard for my life in which nothing really measures up to it.  I’ve identified that deep in the intertwining of my brain, there is a pocketful of lies I find myself believing way too much.  They’ve probably gotten the best of me in the last eight months.  They’ve stolen a lot of happy moments and have kept me from pursuing the things that make my heart sing.

This morning I read in my new book, “At some point, somebody in your story has to do something.  How about now?”

So I thought about the people in my story.  I thought about the possibilities of endless choices, decisions, and dreams that are within close reach.  I thought about what will happen if some of my characters make decisions I wouldn’t necessarily prefer.  And I considered the possibility of writing the chapters that follwed those big life altering moments in their lives.  I’d want that story to be full of hope and love.

But I’m not writing their story.  The only one I’m truly authoring is my own.  It’s kinda like this:

• She needs a friend.  Write the story.
• She’s unsure how she’s going to make it.   Write the story.
• She can’t remember who she always wanted to become.   Write the story.

I get so busy trying to script the perfect story.  The perfect event, the perfect people, and the perfect resolution.  When really, I should spend more time working on character development.  Since out of the heart, the mouth speaks — maybe the approach should aim for a better response to the events in life that make up our story.  It might prove to be a story then, full of all the things I think are important.  Hope.  Life.  Love.  Redemption.

Someone in my story has to do something.  I suppose it’s time for the main character to grab life and truly love it.  To really live in its every breath — to give to others the very thing authors look for to make a story one worth reading.

 

Believing God

I have to admit it’s really easy for me to believe in God.  I’ve believed for most of my life and cannot recall a time I’ve seriously doubted God.  Of course there are plenty of things I don’t understand and I often wonder what in the world God is doing — but somehow, I always manage to keep walking, keep searching, keep writing the story.

Until a few weeks ago I was seriously challenged.  I flipped the book over and read, “I didn’t ask you to believe in Me.  I asked you to believe Me.”  Uh oh.  This is going to be a tough 10 week series.  Hungry for every word of truth she speaks, I engage in the dvd as if I was at a 2-day conference — soaking up everything I could.

I knew I was in the right place when on Day 1, I read, “Can you think of any need you might have that would require more strength than God exercised to raise the dead?  Me either.  God can raise marriages from the dead, and He can restore life and purpose to those who have given up.  He can forgive and purify the vilest sinner.  You have no need that exceeds His power.”

This quest to believe God began years ago, but is it any coincidence that in the frequency  of watching others hurt and wanting everything in the world to keep them from pain — that a group of girls choose to study a way of life that can change the way we live life?

Absolutely not.  God’s hand is in this — that He may do a work in my sphere of influence that others would come to believe that:

• God is who He says He is.
• God can do what He says He can do.
• I am who God says I am.
• I can do all things through Christ.
• God’s word is alive and active in me.

I’m believing God.