Seizing the Day

Over the last few months, it seems that I’ve had one person after another sit in front of me and say something along the lines of “I am trying to figure out what my next step is” or “what God’s purpose is for me”. It’s been good for me to have these discussions as it solidifies my own thoughts and beliefs. Perhaps I needed to hear them again as well.

So often I hear of Christians simply finding contentment in the fact that they are “praying about it” and “waiting for God’s direction”. And while that is definitely part of the process, it is not the beginning and the end. Unless we actually go out and “do”, we are failing. It’s a faith issue. I have faith that when I am prayerfully seeking an answer to something such as “what should my next step be”, that God will direct my path. However, in order to find out, I have to first be willing to step out in faith. I’m going to move forward and have faith that if I’m going through the wrong door, God will close it and open the correct one. When I see people that are so scared to make the wrong move, I have to question their level of faith.

One thing I have found solace in is the fact that if I am striving to hit step “10”, I must first achieve and conquer steps 1-9. And each of them is as important as the one that follows. So if I were trying to decide on a new career, I would know that all I have to do is decide to take the first step, not all 10. And when I make that step, God will direct it if I’m in line with Him. And when I make the next one, He will direct that one as well. And I know that the destination may change as I move forward, but if it does, I know who directed it. That gives me peace, and it certainly makes it easier for me to make decisions. I have learned to welcome and appreciate the journey. Sometimes failing at what you thought was the goal is actually part of the lesson you were destined to learn. So embrace it, learn from it, and grow from it.

I believe in the “carpe diem” (seize the day) philosophy. Every second counts. Maybe I’m resting, maybe I’m going for 3 days on no sleep, maybe I’m watching a film, and maybe I’m deep in conversation with a friend. Either way, I’m making every second count, even if it’s momentary silence. I believe that I’m either working for or against God’s plan for my life at every moment; every moment. This does not mean I’m infallible by any means; it only means that I believe that every moment counts, whether I participate in that reality or not.

I have got to get out there and cast my lines, every morning. I’ve got to do the work. One of God’s most holy moments with us is through communion. However, in nature, God does not give us bread and wine. He gives us wheat and grapes. Without putting forth the work to create, we have no communion. Without casting our lines, we catch no fish.

We can sit and wait on God forever. Or we can prayerfully move forward and trust that He will guide and direct our paths. To me, that is faith in action. And if we truly believe that every second counts, either for or against what we are trying to achieve, we must seize the day, or “Gather ye rosebuds while ye may”, as said by the late Robert Herrick.

So we are left with some important questions: 1) Do I believe every moment counts? 2) Do I believe God is in control? 3) Is my inaction a result of laziness, complacency, or fear? 4) When will I know when I’m supposed to act or what I’m supposed to do? For me, I just have to believe that God put me here on earth to do great things, He’s in control, He intends for me to take advantage of every moment He’s given me, and I’m going to continue to cast my lines as long as I’m able, trusting that He will direct me. God has a plan for each of us and we are either following it or we are not. (Thankfully we have a God of grace and mercy that forgives us when we fall.) And when it all comes down, I want to be sure I did everything I could to fulfill that plan. There is no feeling more powerful and fulfilling than knowing that you are where you are supposed to be, serving others and doing what you were put on this earth to do.

It's All About Equality

In all of my talks with so many different people here over the last few months, I’ve learned so much about who I am and what it is that I’m really fighting for. I suppose that’s part of the reason I’m writing this blog. I’ve realized that in all of the many issues that I choose to tackle, I am most passionate about justice and equality. And furthermore, it seems that I can boil most any issue of poverty, slavery, trafficking, hunger, etc, down to a lack of equality. If humanity truly considered everyone to be “equal’, as in “the African or Indian or Cambodian child in that picture is no different than my American, Irish, or British child sitting beside me”, we would not have the 6500 African’s a day dying of HIV/AIDS, and millions of little 6 year old girls and boys would not be sold into prostitution every year.

But the fact is this: most American’s don’t even consider the person living down the street in the ghetto to be equal to themselves or their family. It’s no wonder a picture of a starving African child only congers up a mere couple of seconds of compassion before dissipating back to a numbness that we have all become accustomed to. There is a safety in numbness and ignorance. We see it, we believe it for a second, but when we try to compare it to our own lives, or picture our sister or daughter being sold into prostitution at the age of 5, we can’t fathom it. And our minds kick in a say “Danger! Go back to thinking about football games and which shirt you’re going to wear to the party tonight. That’s safe”. We can’t let our minds go there. It’s too much.

A large portion of my life is focused on trying to convince people that the women and children I serve in Africa are not any less human that they are. People look at extreme poverty, HIV/AIDS, prostitution and hunger as “Africa’s problems”. They say “you can’t compare those worlds”. My question is “why?” Why are these worlds different? I want to know who’s calling the shots on that one. We are all God’s children. All of us. That’s not just a cute little saying; it’s a fact. So, at the end of the day, we are talking about EQUALITY. When the world truly starts looking at humanity as being 100% equal we will start to remember what JUSTICE really is. The definition of justice implies, and is in fact dependent on equality.

It seems strange, and terribly unfortunate that we are still fighting so hard for equality. It’s almost 2008. We abolished slavery in the US and in the UK long ago. But we are still trafficking an average of 800,000 people a year over international borders, 70% of which are women and children. We really haven’t come as far as we think we have. We just made it easier for ourselves to become complacent and pretend that the problem doesn’t involve us. Equality, or the lack thereof, is everyone’s problem; and everyone’s responsibility. If America really embraced equality, internationally, just think what kind of an impact that could have on how other countries view us. I would venture to say that would have a direct impact on our “national security” and “war on terror”. No there is an interesting idea. If we were to treat people with equality, accept the responsibility of addressing the needs of the poor, worldwide, as our own, and to be committed to justice, in it’s purest sense, a BIPRODUCT of that might be the end of our “war on terror”. We could end poverty, slavery and terrorism all in one fell swoop. Equality is powerful. And the lack of it is devastating.

Setting the Tone

I’ve been trying to keep a blog going for over a year now. However, between working non-stop in Rwanda and in the US and traveling on top of that, it’s been difficult. But I need an outlet. I have so much to say and I’ve been inspired and encouraged quite a bit lately by friends and family to start writing again.

I’ve been living in Kigali, Rwanda for a year and 8 months now. I have never felt more at home than I do in Kigali. I’ve been back in the US since July 11th raising funds and setting up our board of directors/advisers for Sisters of Rwanda (SOR). It was difficult for me to leave Kigali, but being here has been great for me personally, and for SOR. I’ve been challenged in so many ways and it’s really helped me to define who we are as an organization. I’ve changed all of our literature, created new websites, designed and printed our first press kits and flyers, and I’ve spoken in churches and universities all over Nashville, Hilton Head, and New York City. It’s been a very productive trip and I’m very grateful for all that has transpired. I have a full schedule from now until January 5th and then I head back to the Mother Land.

So much has gone on in Kigali since I’ve been away. My Rwandan staff says that the Sisters are doing great and even look younger. I can’t wait to get back and see their shinning faces again. I’ve missed them. I’ve missed the children. I’ve missed the African life. There is such a rawness about Africa that we don’t experience here in the states. It’s like those moments in life where you find yourself in some strange situation that you have never experienced that you never imagined would happen.

I was in a horrible storm in Newark, New Jersey one time, about 8 years ago. My British friend (Ali) and I were the only white folks in the heart of the ghetto. There was no electricity anywhere in the city and it was getting dark. The wind was blowing violently, massive trees were falling down around us, huge metal trash cans where flying across the parking lot as if they were Coke cans, and subways were derailing right in front of us. It was like nothing I could have even dreamed up. We were all outside trying to find shelter on the side of the overcrowded subway station. Ali and I and the rest of the adults immediately gathered up all the kids, and we huddle together and protected them from the wind, rain and debris. We were soaked and fearing for our lives. We had no shelter and the sky was ominous. No one was thinking about skin color. No one was thinking about taking advantage of anyone. No one thought about social status or education levels or money. All of our programmed tendencies were removed instantly and we were left with only our God given reactions. It was raw. We protected each other. We bonded, in a matter of minutes. We embraced each other and pulled together. We served each other, just as we were created to do. Just for a moment, we were one. -- That is Africa…every day. I’m ready to get back to that. I’m ready to go back home.