Sorry I haven't been as committed to writing in this blog this summer. It's hard to give Jacksonville updates when I'm not there myself. I can tell you that the first week of the Summer Day Camp is complete and three more are on their way. At camp, about 70 kids from Brentwood ages 5-12 get to learn more about God and partake in some really fun activities which include Challenge Circle (relay race game), dance, crafts, etc. If you are on facebook, you can check out "2nd Mile Ministries" and get better updates throughout the summer.
Throughout my life, I've been blessed with not getting injured or hurt badly enough to go to a hospital. Yesterday while playing basketball with some older guys at church, I landed on the side of my foot and possibly sprained it. It did hurt but I played a couple more games on it since it wasn't so bad. To make a long story short, I used crutches for the first time in my life (well, other times were just for fun), and now I have a boot on it so that I can walk. I'm okay and even though I can't move as quickly and I can't play basketball or go frolfing with people for a while, my spirit is surprisingly not damaged.
Earlier yesterday, I watched a 6 minute video of a pastor talking about what it would look like to love people as Jesus loves us. It kind of hit me hard, in a good way, and I wanted to share it with you, whoever may be reading this. I hope it is convicting and that it moves you.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d6TUnxm6DSc&feature=related
It's been a while since I've included prayer requests in my blogs and that's something I definitely don't want to forget. In my recent devotion times, God has made it clearer to me at how important it is to pray. Mark 1:35 says, "Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed." Isn't that crazy? Jesus, the Son of God, perfectly righteous, without sin, found it necessary and important to get some alone time with the Father. Matthew 6:1-15 talks about prayer. Please read it. Just type it into google, it's right there a couple clicks and types away. Go ahead, I can wait. See you in a few minutes.
I've learned that almost all of my prayer is about asking God for something or to do something. If prayer is my communication with God, what good is that doing? Isaiah 55:8 says that my thoughts and ways are not God's thoughts and ways. In fact, as high as the heavens are above the earth, that's how much higher his ways are than mine. If I have a relationship with God, or anyone for that matter, what good would that relationship be if I just made requests all the time. I encourage you that as you pray and read through scripture, that listening would become part of your prayer life. That's something I'm weak at. Don't get me wrong, the Bible tells us, "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 4:6-7)
My prayer for you, whoever you may be, is Philippians 4:6-7, that your prayer life and relationship with God would grow to conform to His ways for your life rather than your own. As far as my prayer requests go, you could be in prayer for:
-those in Jacksonville now working at the Summer Day Camp to have patience and the love of God for the kids as well as the families they come into contact with.
-me to not get discouraged about my ankle and to rely on God to provide for my next year in Florida.
-those that live near all the flooding in Florida as well as those directly effected by the Colorado fires. Even though you might not know anyone personally, let's lift them up to God in prayer.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Home
Where I consider home has never really changed in my life. I was born in West Allis, Wisconsin, grew up in West Allis, lived in the same house, etc. If someone asked me, "Where's home for you?" Without any hesitation I'd say West Allis. This past week, I spent four days in Madison where I lived for five years catching up with friends and setting up support meetings. As I walked down familiar streets and into familiar buildings and houses, it felt as if I'd never left. Recognizable sights and smells (unfortunately) filled my senses. What is it about visiting a memory that makes our reality clearer, forces time into existence? College students looked like little children to me, walking to classes like robots programmed to pursue the American Dream without a second thought. This part of my life has past away and I left that graveyard of broken dreams with bittersweet feelings. I would not be who or where I am today if I hadn't gone to UW-Madison and met the people I met. For that, I praise God!
While in Madison, I met with a friend who brought up a new idea of the word "home." He told me that he wants to live life as if his "home" is one where he is walking closely with Jesus, whether that's in prayer or reading the Bible, this home is not one built by bricks and wood, but rather by his relationship with Christ. I really liked his idea of what home was to him. If that were my definition of where my home is, it wouldn't be limited to where I was geographically but rather where my heart was spiritually.
While I was spending some time at the MOB (mansion of brothers, the house I lived in for 3 years in Madison), I found a book called The Treasure Principle written by Randy Alcorn. As I had some time in between meetings, I started reading the first chapter. It described the parable in Matthew 13:44. A man is traveling on a journey, sandals are the only comfort for his tired and scraped feet, hot sun is beating down on his sweaty face, he walks through a strangers field on a worn path to cut the distance like other travelers before him, his staff in hand is the only support for his every step. As he takes another step, his big stick hits something metal. He looks down, wipes the dirt off the shiny surface, and digs it up. His weak body is fueled with excitement and he lifts up a golden chest, probably buried by a king who is hundreds of years dead and left no notice about this treasure. The traveler opens it up and there shines golden coins, jewels of all kinds, worth more than he can even imagine. Filled with excitement, he reburies the chest and instead of hobbling down the path, there is now a skip in his step. He must do anything he can to buy this field. He goes home and sells everything he owns and in the world's eyes, makes a foolish investment. Alcorn is not condoning greed or the deceitfulness towards the original field owner, but he wanted to portray how Jesus and the kingdom of heaven ought to be our objects of treasure where we are filled with such anticipation to be with him in heaven that everything else that our heart possesses ought to be thrown off, sold, eliminated, of lesser value than the beautiful gift of salvation and grace that Jesus offers.
Have you ever watched someone die? A few days ago, Nik Wallenda (a stunt man from a long line of daredevil relatives) walked along a tightrope across the Niagara Falls. As I watched a short special on his life, they showed his grandfather Karl's last ever tightrope walk. The line wobbled, his balancing pole aid was tilting, and he fell to his death. Probably the most intense feeling I had was the few seconds before he fell. I was told he was going to fall and die in the next few seconds. Life would quickly turn to death. I was reminded of the same feeling I had when I saw an olympic luger at the Vancouver games get thrown from his sled into a pillar, dying. When in 8th grade, I saw people jump to their deaths off of the Twin Towers on September 11th. There's something haunting about death, knowing someone is going to die. I don't want to be presumptuous but sometimes I feel that watching movies and shows with killing and death in them helps us to numb and desensitize the pain of thinking of our own deaths. Thinking of our own death makes people question life. Why is it? What is it? Walking around thinking of death all the time might not seem like the best idea, but man, think of how many things we consider important would change into what they actually are, stupid and pointless.
Each of us has a countdown to our death, each second of your life disappears and in a sense, dies. Clock is ticking. If you have accepted Jesus as your Lord and Savior, he offers you forgiveness (1 John 1:9 "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness."), and also salvation (John 3:16 "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son that whoever believes in him will not perish but have eternal life."). We are guaranteed to be with Jesus and go to our eventual home in heaven when we die (not because of what we do, but because Jesus died for us). This treasure that we have, despite not visibly seeing it now, should completely take over every thought and word and action in our lives, much like the weary traveler in Matthew 13. Where is your final destination? The thing you are working towards? What are you striving for? What defines whether or not you have a good day? These are things I, too, need to ask myself and take before the Lord.
While in Madison, I met with a friend who brought up a new idea of the word "home." He told me that he wants to live life as if his "home" is one where he is walking closely with Jesus, whether that's in prayer or reading the Bible, this home is not one built by bricks and wood, but rather by his relationship with Christ. I really liked his idea of what home was to him. If that were my definition of where my home is, it wouldn't be limited to where I was geographically but rather where my heart was spiritually.
While I was spending some time at the MOB (mansion of brothers, the house I lived in for 3 years in Madison), I found a book called The Treasure Principle written by Randy Alcorn. As I had some time in between meetings, I started reading the first chapter. It described the parable in Matthew 13:44. A man is traveling on a journey, sandals are the only comfort for his tired and scraped feet, hot sun is beating down on his sweaty face, he walks through a strangers field on a worn path to cut the distance like other travelers before him, his staff in hand is the only support for his every step. As he takes another step, his big stick hits something metal. He looks down, wipes the dirt off the shiny surface, and digs it up. His weak body is fueled with excitement and he lifts up a golden chest, probably buried by a king who is hundreds of years dead and left no notice about this treasure. The traveler opens it up and there shines golden coins, jewels of all kinds, worth more than he can even imagine. Filled with excitement, he reburies the chest and instead of hobbling down the path, there is now a skip in his step. He must do anything he can to buy this field. He goes home and sells everything he owns and in the world's eyes, makes a foolish investment. Alcorn is not condoning greed or the deceitfulness towards the original field owner, but he wanted to portray how Jesus and the kingdom of heaven ought to be our objects of treasure where we are filled with such anticipation to be with him in heaven that everything else that our heart possesses ought to be thrown off, sold, eliminated, of lesser value than the beautiful gift of salvation and grace that Jesus offers.
Have you ever watched someone die? A few days ago, Nik Wallenda (a stunt man from a long line of daredevil relatives) walked along a tightrope across the Niagara Falls. As I watched a short special on his life, they showed his grandfather Karl's last ever tightrope walk. The line wobbled, his balancing pole aid was tilting, and he fell to his death. Probably the most intense feeling I had was the few seconds before he fell. I was told he was going to fall and die in the next few seconds. Life would quickly turn to death. I was reminded of the same feeling I had when I saw an olympic luger at the Vancouver games get thrown from his sled into a pillar, dying. When in 8th grade, I saw people jump to their deaths off of the Twin Towers on September 11th. There's something haunting about death, knowing someone is going to die. I don't want to be presumptuous but sometimes I feel that watching movies and shows with killing and death in them helps us to numb and desensitize the pain of thinking of our own deaths. Thinking of our own death makes people question life. Why is it? What is it? Walking around thinking of death all the time might not seem like the best idea, but man, think of how many things we consider important would change into what they actually are, stupid and pointless.
Each of us has a countdown to our death, each second of your life disappears and in a sense, dies. Clock is ticking. If you have accepted Jesus as your Lord and Savior, he offers you forgiveness (1 John 1:9 "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness."), and also salvation (John 3:16 "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son that whoever believes in him will not perish but have eternal life."). We are guaranteed to be with Jesus and go to our eventual home in heaven when we die (not because of what we do, but because Jesus died for us). This treasure that we have, despite not visibly seeing it now, should completely take over every thought and word and action in our lives, much like the weary traveler in Matthew 13. Where is your final destination? The thing you are working towards? What are you striving for? What defines whether or not you have a good day? These are things I, too, need to ask myself and take before the Lord.
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Toxic Charity
For the summer, I'm hoping to complete a book I just started called Toxic Charity. The subtitle is chilling, How Churches and Charities Hurt Those They Help. I've only read the first chapter so far and it reminds me a lot of When Helping Hurts. These authors have worked in ministering to the poor for decades and have seen what works, what hurts in terms of helping the poor. Let me start off by just showing you the first paragraph of the book, (the first chapter entitled "The Scandal") and you'll get the author's point very quickly.
"In the United States, there's a growing scandal that we both refuse to see and actively perpetuate. What Americans avoid facing is that while we are very generous in charitable giving, much of that money is either wasted or actually harms the people it is targeted to help."
With that being said, I can either refuse to believe what he says as true, or I can continue reading, already knowing that the author has quite a bit of knowledge and experience in this. I kept reading.
"We mean well, our motives are good, but we have neglected to conduct care-full due diligence t odetermine emotional, economic, and cultural outcomes on the receiving end of our charity. Why do we miss this crucial aspect in evaluating our charitable work? because, as compassionate people, we have been evaluating our charity by the rewards we receive through service, rather than the benefits received by the served."
Wow. That kind of hurts. Sometimes I'm at a fast food place and I might be asked to donate a dollar to go to "whatever" fund and I sometimes might say yes. I feel good. Did a good deed. It's small but it helps, right? I'd say I'm more focused on the fact that I feel good rather than on those that the money goes to. I have no idea what organizations I've given to, if the money was used with integrity, or if any positive results came from it. I have no lasting relationship or memory of these "needs."
Yes, in some circumstances, giving material things is not only good but it's absolutely necessary in order to keep people from dying. Food, water, clothes, shelter. We'll call this relief. In natural disasters, economic structures and resources can be wiped out. Disaster strikes. Compassionate people start food drives, clothing drives, etc. to ship to these places. This relief is good because it's quick and sustains life for a while. However, there comes a point where relief must transition to development and in a timely manner, otherwise, prolonged relief becomes toxic, despite good intentions and compassionate hearts. It destroys personal initiative.
This reminds me of the after school program and helping the kids with their homework. I can see a kid's poor grades and feel really moved to help them get better grades, so I could start giving them the answers to their homework assignments. This could be called relief. However, I feel in educational circumstances, development is really the only option in order to help the kids grow and learn things for themselves. I can act as a guide, but as soon as they become dependent on me giving them the answers, I've knocked them back in the wrong direction. They are worse off then before, despite my heart to help.
To finish up Chapter 1, Robert D. Lupton (the author) provides The Oath for Compassionate Service. Basically, six musts when looking to serve the poor.
"-Never do for the poor what they have (or could have) the capacity to do for themselves.
-Limit one-way giving to emergency situations.
-Strive to empower the poor through employment, lending, and investing, using grants sparingly to reinforce achievements.
-Subordinate self-interests to the needs of those being served.
-Listen closely to those you seek to help, especially to what is not being said--unspoken feelings may contain essential clues to effective service.
-Above all, do no harm."
For those of you who I haven't told yet, 2nd Mile Ministries is a Christian Community Development Organization, looking to empower those in the community through relationships to lead their community forward. These long-term goals have to be carried out carefully as to not make things worse. I hope this information either challenged you, made you think, or encouraged you. It's definitely worth the read. Both Toxic Charity and When Helping Hurts are very similar in content, yet are told from different view points and include different experiences so reading one or the other would probably suffice. Kind of like watching Sleepless in Seattle and You've Got Mail (so I'm told). Same story, different circumstances.
"In the United States, there's a growing scandal that we both refuse to see and actively perpetuate. What Americans avoid facing is that while we are very generous in charitable giving, much of that money is either wasted or actually harms the people it is targeted to help."
With that being said, I can either refuse to believe what he says as true, or I can continue reading, already knowing that the author has quite a bit of knowledge and experience in this. I kept reading.
"We mean well, our motives are good, but we have neglected to conduct care-full due diligence t odetermine emotional, economic, and cultural outcomes on the receiving end of our charity. Why do we miss this crucial aspect in evaluating our charitable work? because, as compassionate people, we have been evaluating our charity by the rewards we receive through service, rather than the benefits received by the served."
Wow. That kind of hurts. Sometimes I'm at a fast food place and I might be asked to donate a dollar to go to "whatever" fund and I sometimes might say yes. I feel good. Did a good deed. It's small but it helps, right? I'd say I'm more focused on the fact that I feel good rather than on those that the money goes to. I have no idea what organizations I've given to, if the money was used with integrity, or if any positive results came from it. I have no lasting relationship or memory of these "needs."
Yes, in some circumstances, giving material things is not only good but it's absolutely necessary in order to keep people from dying. Food, water, clothes, shelter. We'll call this relief. In natural disasters, economic structures and resources can be wiped out. Disaster strikes. Compassionate people start food drives, clothing drives, etc. to ship to these places. This relief is good because it's quick and sustains life for a while. However, there comes a point where relief must transition to development and in a timely manner, otherwise, prolonged relief becomes toxic, despite good intentions and compassionate hearts. It destroys personal initiative.
This reminds me of the after school program and helping the kids with their homework. I can see a kid's poor grades and feel really moved to help them get better grades, so I could start giving them the answers to their homework assignments. This could be called relief. However, I feel in educational circumstances, development is really the only option in order to help the kids grow and learn things for themselves. I can act as a guide, but as soon as they become dependent on me giving them the answers, I've knocked them back in the wrong direction. They are worse off then before, despite my heart to help.
To finish up Chapter 1, Robert D. Lupton (the author) provides The Oath for Compassionate Service. Basically, six musts when looking to serve the poor.
"-Never do for the poor what they have (or could have) the capacity to do for themselves.
-Limit one-way giving to emergency situations.
-Strive to empower the poor through employment, lending, and investing, using grants sparingly to reinforce achievements.
-Subordinate self-interests to the needs of those being served.
-Listen closely to those you seek to help, especially to what is not being said--unspoken feelings may contain essential clues to effective service.
-Above all, do no harm."
For those of you who I haven't told yet, 2nd Mile Ministries is a Christian Community Development Organization, looking to empower those in the community through relationships to lead their community forward. These long-term goals have to be carried out carefully as to not make things worse. I hope this information either challenged you, made you think, or encouraged you. It's definitely worth the read. Both Toxic Charity and When Helping Hurts are very similar in content, yet are told from different view points and include different experiences so reading one or the other would probably suffice. Kind of like watching Sleepless in Seattle and You've Got Mail (so I'm told). Same story, different circumstances.
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