Sweet dream

People might look at it as a coincidence or a set of inevitable circumstances, the way we survive from day to day and month to month, but the Lover constantly reminds me that He is behind what is going on in our lives.

Sunday night I went grocery shopping. Shopping when there is little or no money is totally joyless. It's hard decisions, passing over everything fun or extra and doesn't flatter that power trip part of my identity, which I am now discovering that finds joy in making a purchase. In any case, I was getting groceries and saw some great sized and priced cantaloupes, but they weren't ripe. I took one anyways, but later returned it when I saw other good priced fruit.

The next morning I had a dream...
A lady I met at the cantaloupes had come to my house after I'd put up the food and slipped in to put vegetables in my refrigerator. Another friend also contributed and I found a cut cantaloupe in a drawer of our old apartment (which was now somehow in our house). I was telling agent B about all the food that showed up and then looked in the mailbox and there was the huge cantaloupe I had returned from the store.

A few hours later, in reality, a friend called offering a bunch of produce. Her husband brought it by, while I was out. So I did come home to a whole bunch of vegetables in the fridge (and some other goodies). He also left some money in the bathroom (???- which was an unlikely place like the drawer of the old apartment). Agent B got his first paycheck and last but not least, we received a huge check in the mail from income tax.

This is not the first time we've been desperately awaiting funds and a friend gave us something one morning (like a drop of cool water) and a bigger amount came in later that same day. Both times this has happened it has struck me that the friend's gift was like letting loose a dam.

I don't know if that is how it works. But we are so thankful, so relieved and refreshed. Thank you Lover and generous livers in the WAY!!!

veggies and fruits

Some say that kids don't like fruits and vegetables. I notice with my toddler that it can be a struggle to get him to eat anything green. But I am seeing a very different recurring pattern among the "under priviledged". We've had 5 under priviledged children frequent our home for meals through the years and all of them loved eating vegetables and fruits at our home. I keep a fruit bucket in the fridge and they would often request a fruit, sometimes tasting it for the first time. It's crazy to me to watch a 10 year old have a peach or plum for the first time. Often they will take heaping seconds and thirds of the vegetables cooked.

I was talking with a vice principal for a school that serves disadvantaged families and we were saying how sad it is that here the system has an opportunity to get healthy food for the kids and instead, as she described it, they are offered "pizza three times a week". The spaggetti is served with watered down tomato sauce. She says she has seen kids inhale whatever was offered, knowing that this is probably all they would get to eat. Even if a family has some income for food, fresh vegetables and fruit may not be the priorities due to cost in part and learned eating habits too.


Education may also play a part. I find vegetables all the time at the store that I don't recognize. They are often cheaper if they are not popular. So my tactic is to catch someone picking it up and ask them what it is and how to prepare it. I discovered Opo squash this way. It's 99cents/lb as opposed to $1.50 or more for zucchini and tastes the same.

I guess sometimes, kids really do know what's best for them.

The road less travelled

Agent B and I are way behind the times when it comes to pop culture, movies... We just watched Matrix this month. I was amazed and encouraged. To me it was a total parable or allegory about life, the world, heaven, the Lover...

There was a phrase that hit me: "there is a difference between knowing the path and walking the path". To me, this has been my challenge of late. Religion tries to dupe us into thinking that Christianity is like a test, that if you have knowledge or "the answers", you are on track, but the Lover takes everything further and pushes us past the norm. We may know the 2 greatest commandments, but do we stop to help the person in need? It says that even the enemy believes and faith without works is dead. Not that works are the end goal either.

The movie makes a great point in that we are counter culture, on a mission, but that the key is to know our true identity, not the little realm carved out for us here on earth, but our real selves that are crafted for greatness, heroic feats, transforming power, sacrificial giving of self for the greater good.

Oh to see with the eyes of the kingdom of heaven, to know that each act of kindness, every prayer, every sacrifice, the difficult and tender moments are shaping us, are changing the world are rescuing and freeing and true living. Constantly I feel the pressure of our rich, rich culture, luring me to be complacent, to live status quo, to concern myself with me and give up my true calling.

Momo

Ran into one of the fair mother city's most notorious homeless residents. We'll call him Momo. He spotted me at the library and called out to say hello. He said he and Lillian broke up. Lillian would tell you they were never together. She did let him sleep outside beside her house and would share food or drink with him. She's a single mom and when she asked me, I told her that I didn't think it wise to let him in. Momo can be unpredicatble.

Unfortunately, most agency workers and city dwellers butt into his annoying or aggressive side. One agency worker recently asked if we knew Momo. We got to share a side of him that is so sweet, so giving, so tender, few would guess... but I think it is the real Momo. The Momo before his brain cells got fried, the Momo before he'd gotten kicked over by a rotten world, the Momo before a dysfunctional family shaped his personae, the Momo designed by the Lover. If you look real close, this Lover shows up in Momo, in his smirk, in his humor, in his giving, in his calling out my name.

I know that what the Lover did through the Izzy ministry was from Him because of the way people continue to reach out to us today. We ran into a lady working at the hospital. She sought me out, saying she knew me from when she used to come in to get groceries. She said times still get tough sometimes, but she's making it as best she can. She came up to me like a friend, not at all embarrassed, but happy to know me and see me again. I want all my relationships to be like that. I think for many, the cameraderie we felt was like those who survive disaster together. Their personal tsunami, or illness or life shocking set of circumstances was lived with us, along with us in many ways (we often got groceries from the ministry too). Sharing with each other, living alongside through crisis (wether it be temporary or ongoing) instills a closeness that can not be faked. It makes us brothers and sisters, survivors and overcomers, as we should be.

Where is daddy?

She's 4 years old. She's spent half her life as an alien in the United States. She's never met her father. But she looks for him every day. Her name is Perla.

Mbamie lost her husband when war struck her country of refuge. She made her way to the US with her children, now as a single mom. She found out that her husband is alive and has applied for him. Now, she and her two children wait.

The wait is excruciating for Perla. She is excited when she gets to talk with her father on the phone, but is filled with so many questions that no 4 year old should have to deal with.

She asks:

Is my father white or black?
How far is Africa?
Africa must be very far, he must have to walk a long way. This is taking so long for him to come, we must pray for him.

Every day she sets out breakfast for her father and forbids the other family from eating it. Meanwhile she herself has gone on a fast this past week as she prays that her father will come.

Once, while at a clinic, she told her mom she had a question, but didn't want her mom to get angry over the question. Her mom assured her repeatedly that she would not get angry. Her daughter asked if the man they had just seen could be her father, or why not even Mbole (her uncle). When her mom said they could not be her father, Perla cried all the way home, on the bus, passed the stares of strangers who could not possibly know the anguish of this little child who feels so alone.

While Perla's tears are disheartening, her brother's apathy is even more distressing. This 7 year old doesn't care to talk to his dad on the phone and feigns disinterest at the news that the man who he can no longer remember will one day come and resume his role as a present dad.

These heart issues are so complex. I thought getting through the immigration hoops were momentous, but war has forever changed these little children.

Lover, we join in Perla's prayers that you bring her father soon and in the meanwhile, be the daddy they have always needed and longed for. Show them compassion and ease the hurt of the years they have done without and gone through so much change. Help them with their feelings of abandonment. Bring this family together again soon. May they enjoy nearness unlike anything before. Help them navigate through the myriad hidden troubles and stresses of this period in their lives.

the bible for illiterates?

The tradition I grew up in is real big on the Bible, very heady, intellectual, knowledgeable. Even as kids, we sang songs like: "read your bible, pray every day". This gave me the idea that the bible is easy like brushing your teeth, everyone can and SHOULD do it. But the more I'm with others who are from much different educational standpoints (like having none or very little), I'm realizing that this is not the case. The bible is NOT easy to read- in fact it can be very difficult. Even when using the NIV or easy to read versions, the words are lofty, the concepts complex, the challenges impossible (except with a whole lot of help from the CEO and even then, they demand all we have even our life!)

A lot of the people I hang out with have very minimal reading abilities- several are at about a 2nd grade level. We get books from the children's library and have a hard time with the words (sounding them out), vocabulary (understanding) and concepts. So as I read my bible, I'm thinking "how the heck is someone like... supposed to get into this?".

I think our reliance on the written word has been overbloated for a long time. I have thought by reading a sentence or story or chapters that I've spent time with the Lover, but I often haven't digested a word read or even worse, read it thinking of all the things others could learn from it!

It strikes me that the "common people" came in masses only when Jesus arrived. He was what we needed- a living, breathing, hurting, feeling demonstration of the Living Word. It strikes me that we are called to be that same living, breathing, hurting, feeling, demonstration of the Living Word. But how often do I want to just shove a scripture at someone hoping against all hopes they will "get it".

I recognize so much religion in me regarding the word- like by quoting a scripture, I've done something for the CEO, or by having my child memorize parts of the Bible, we are on the right path. If it never transforms our hearts or affect our living, they are just words on a page.

I know there is power in the word, but I think the power comes through it when it is framed in flesh, so that others can see and hear and know that the words are livable, touchable and relevant.

Mbamie

She hasn't had a whole lot of breaks in life. She never went to school because by the time she was at a place in life where she could, they figured she was too old. She can hardly read or write, and that's in her own language. When war broke out, her husband was not found, their home was burnt down, she was pregnant with their second child and in danger in a country that now considered her an enemy. Her siblings were fleeing to America. She filed along with them, as a single mom.

She's been here several years now, but may never get over the feeling of being in a foreign place. She still can barely understand the language and classes are overwhelming. Even when I try to help her in French, she can't read or write it. Filling out paperwork is a monumental task and America loves to inundate people in paperwork. She's about done herself in working nights, but she does what it takes to make it. She found out that her husband is alive and applied for him to come, but delays have come as the African US embassy doesn't trust that the US immigration paperwork from here is bonafide.

She has simple goals: Learn to drive. Get husband here. Get citizenship.

Things are so different from what she is used to and so difficult for those who can not learn in our traditional ways. She's failed the learner's permit 4 times now, the last time even when I translated. It freaks me out thinking of her driving on our roads, but this ain't Africa where every 3rd car is an affordable taxi. She missed the bus one day (it takes about 2 hours to get anywhere) and took a taxi to work. It cost her half her wages for that shift. She found a ride home.

I can't imagine the issues she faces, the heartache she's felt, the isolation and feelings of defeat. She said she'll try the learner's permit test just one more time before giving up.

I don't know if you've seen a permit test in a while. I'm not sure I would have passed it. And the learner's book is like reading chinese.

Father, help Mbamie to learn to drive, pass the test, speak English. Give her relief. May her husband come soon. Pour out your abundant blessings on her and her household. May she know the comfort that You are her real abiding place, so that wherever she goes, she is at home with you.

Princess update

Yesterday AO1 tells me that he wants to see Princess. I responded that she was very far away. He told me that we should drive.

Princess' mama, Martha calls today saying that Princess is being moved to the TYC in Brownwood.

Agent B says that's not far, we could drive and see her.

Martha calls again with an address where I could write Princess and I voice out loud that she doesn't write me back, does she still want contact, letters, or visits?

Martha explains that although Princess has written her family, she hasn't had much time or place to write and that it will be easier now that she is placed for the remainder of her time (a year) at a facility with her own room, window, locker... She said that Princess wanted us on the visiting list.

I guess I should trust more in the still small voice of the Lover and the little voice of my son.

I'm praying for breakthrough connection. We've had so little of those. Honest times of sharing (not just me, but her too). Visiting times are 1.5 hours! That could be a lot of heart to heart or awkward what else can we talk about time. Praying for the former.

Rosaly

I'm not even sure what to write concerning Rosaly. I first met her when I was matched with Princess. Rosaly is Princess' aunt. At the time she was homeless, living at Princess' house. I started coming around and when I found out she wanted to learn how to read better, I would visit her and we'd read. I've learned a lot from Rosaly. She's messed up bad on crack, has dyslexia, lost a baby, has been in and out of abusive relationships likely since childhood, definitely since adolescence, when she took to the streets, prostitution and drugs.

At first I was consistent in hanging with her and I know that she feels like I've been there for her as she's been in and out of homes and trouble with the law. In many ways I feel like she has been more faithful to me than me to her 'cause she continues to call over the years, although it's usually for help. Now that I have two kids, I haven't been able to taxi or help in other ways like I used to. The reading thing didn't last long, but the calls keep coming. Now she calls when she wants me to pray for her for help getting an apartment or to look up a phone number for her.

She's been living at Princess' house again for many months as she was evicted, but our prayers were answered today as she will sign a lease tomorrow on a place. This is somewhat of a miracle since she doesn't have a single good housing reference. She's been evicted from everyplace she's lived in the last 8 years, sometimes even from her family.

The reason of course is that she's still on drugs. I mean she never is when she calls me, every time she calls she's "been clean 3 months or 2 months or 4 months". She knows all the religious jingle about the Lover cleaning her up and taking her desire for drugs away and giving her the strength to keep off the streets. She rattles it all off with a singsongy voice.

I have so many mixed emotions regarding her. A long time ago, I had the feeling that the enemy was shaping Princess into her aunt. She too has dyslexia and is following the path. Ironically, as she's gotten older, her body has transformed and she looks more and more like her aunt each day. I told Rosaly how her religious rabble is harmful to Princess who knows full well that she is singing me a song and dance and that she is still out in the streets.

She's lost custody of her two teenage kids since I've known her. Her family has never shown much respect for her (although half of them are doing the same stuff). I don't want to lose hope for her. She's been through all sorts of programs and detox centers- but the enemy is so beguiling. Usually she gets lured back to the streets through the influence of boyfriends or people she lets stay in her home. One time she was trying to stay clean and told her friends not to bring stuff into her home. They showed up with some rocks and offered them to her for free.

What if my greatest vice was served before me on a platter? What if everyone I knew, including family, was into my vice? What if everywhere I walk in town has a link to a lifetime of living in this filth? What if the hiding and lying and unholy living is exampled and passed down by the patriarch of the family? Soon after I met Rosaly and Princess' mom, Martha, they found out that they were not aunt and niece, but half sisters. Their dad who was also a pastor here in town is both Princess' grandfather and great-grandfather. He impregnated his own daughter. This wasn't revealed to them until after his death. It says the sins of the father is passed down to the 3rd and 4th generation, but that the love of the Lover goes to the 1000th generation.

I don't share all this to expose Rosaly, Princess or their family, but to show you how desperate this is. I don't know what else to do, how to love, how any other way can come to them, but to pray, pray, pray. I used to think the soap operas and movies were exaggerated, but I've come to know through Rosaly and others that what is shown on the screen is only the half of it. I can not imagine my reality being such a twisted world.

Please join with me in pleading for Rosaly and the extended family, for Princess and for the light of love to break through their intense darkness.

Subtle indoctrination

We have a house heavily loaded with bibles, including many children's versions. I have really enjoyed reading the scriptures with AO1 and talking about the Lover, His stories and His footprints left throughout the word, in history and our lives.

Some things mainstream Christianity has tried to teach our kids I don't like or I wonder at the accuracy of it. I kept a book, "my stories about Jesus" because I liked how they related the stories for children. Right now, AO1 just wants to read the first page over and over and over. He's memorizing it and I'm not so sure how much I like that. It's titled "the 1st Christmas" which would cause our CoC roots to go into frenzies, but doesn't give me any heartburn. The worst part to me is this picture! Since when did Mary have make-up or time-warp transportation to flight her from the 1950s? There is no hint of a stinky stable and dirty animals and Jesus is blond and blue eyed, which I suspect was highly unlikely.

The reading is not so bad, but the movie "the Nativity Story" made me think of some issues and thus question this rendition. Our child's story says that Mary got married to a good man and they were very happy. I had never thought of this, but in the movie, Mary was none too happy about marriage. She was young and her marriage was arranged for her with an older man. Getting married meant leaving life as she new it, as well as any remaining sense of childhood and entering another status, jumping into adulthood... Not to mention, the circumstances were not exactly perfect. Mary was pregnant, she said by God. How many people believed that? I'm sure there was happiness and in the movie, the couple learn to love each other, but I'm also thinking there was some stress, troubles, difficulties... The movie also brought out the heartache the couple must have felt over having their child in a barn. Joseph languished that this was the best he could offer God- the King of Kings making his "grand" entrance into the world. As a kid, I thought a manger was a bassinet. They should say it like it was, "and the newborn baby, that could have gotten any number of diseases from the manure filled barn was laid in a trough, yes the kind the snotty nosed donkey ate out of". I think I would be at least very horrified by this. Although I'm sure births were not done in sanitized hospitals like here and now. But instead of being slightly bummed at having their baby in a barn, our little story book says: "I guess you can stay in my stable with the animals if you want to." "Oh, thank you!" said Joseph. Other flowery depictions of the birth entail, which I will not bore you with.

We have one picture of the Lover in our home. We spotted it as we went through a nauseating exhibit about Jesus. Picture after picture presented a floating, glowing, emaciated or herculean Jesus so above and apart from the rest of humanity. The picture we were drawn to was a controversial one because Jesus was pictured with peasant German kids interrupting their religious lesson. It was seen as a "blasphemous incongruity" by the laity of the day. The Century Magazine said that the artist (Von Uhde) "had unmistakingly and convincingly made to live again the carpenter's Son, the God-man, the Friend and Comforter of the common people... His aim has been to separate the divine Founder of Christianity from the smoke of the incense, from priestly tradition and sacerdotal enthronement and to make him live again as he lived 1900 years ago, the homeless wanderer, the Man of Sorrows."

This is the Lover/Man I need and follow. The one who hangs out with the least of these. I guess with all our readings and interpreting, we have to take it in carefully and talk with our children about the accuracy and perceptions behind the telling and trust the CEO to take the loudest voice, calling over and above even my false impressions of the Lover and His ways.