It’s been a while since I last posted an entry. I’ve been back in Rwanda now for 3 months and it’s been a bit of a blur. It’s truly amazing how much I learn in just one day. I’m constantly soaking up knowledge, learning from trial and error, listening to the culture, learning from the wisdom of my colleagues and the women we serve, and having revelations and epiphanies almost daily. I’m reading a lot, which certainly adds to this experience. I love to learn and I’m doing a lot of it lately.
I just finished “Sex God” by Rob Bell. It’s amazing, to say the least, and it epitomizes the Ubuntu theory I’m speaking of in this blog. Yeah, it’s got a funny name, but I assure you there is very little about sex (in the physical sense) and very much about how we are to treat humanity, especially in regards to intimate relationships. It rocked my world and I bet it’ll rock yours.
I also just finished Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell. He has such a way of saying things so profoundly. I am continually amazed by his wisdom and understanding of the “church” and what it is really supposed to be. And to take it up a notch, I am about ¾ of the way through Shane Claiborne’s “Irresistible Revolution”. That book is truly revolutionary. It’s not the bible, and it’s not the only truth, but it is no joke either. Shane is a master at breaking down the teachings of Jesus and how He really lived, and intended us to live. Suffice it to say, I am moved. Consequently, I’ve given away everything I can’t fit into about two backpacks, (not that I had a lot to start out with). I could go on and on about it, but I’d suggest just getting the book. It’s a quick and compelling read.
Things are intense here with Sisters of Rwanda, as always. We have to show a lot of “tough love” these days. We are not here to give handouts or to perpetuate poverty (which I consider to be one in the same). We are a training facility. And we are here to “teach them to fish”, so that they may “eat for a lifetime”. And it’s tough; maybe more on us than them. We just want to love them. But true love isn’t all roses. I know that if we truly love these women, it means we have to love them enough to teach them, not just to enable them.
As usual, we are out of money and struggling to secure the capital to even carry on with our income generation activities, but we are making it, somehow. And we have “crazy stuff” come at us daily. Emotions are high. We have a new country director (Ilea Dorsey) that is fresh out of two years working in Uganda and now having to adapt to a whole new culture here in Rwanda. But she is a trooper, and she’s part of what makes all of this work. She’s already part of the family, and we are fortunate to have her, as a leader, and as part of the family. You can check out her blog (she is an AMAZING writer) at www.kidogokidogo.blogspot.com .
We have presented the initial concept of Ubuntu Revolution to quite a few Rwandese since I’ve been back. To be honest, I anticipated quite a bit of resistance. But we got none. Everyone is ready for it. They want a revolution; one that brings them together and creates peace. So we are elated. Yes, elated. This is everything I’ve been working towards my whole life. Now it’s culminating in this revolution. It’s sort of my “labor of love”, but what is so amazing is that I’m not alone in it. Everyone is so supportive, and that’s what will make it work. This is about all of us.
I was riding on the back of a moto taxi the other day on my way to the office. I had my backpack on containing my “mobile office”, the sun was shining, just after a light rain, people were walking in the streets and I had just finished a stellar hour of kickboxing with two little street kids that I teach at my house every morning. I thought to myself, “you know, I don’t think I’d change anything in my life right now”. I couldn’t stop smiling. I’m here. I’m living my lifelong dream of justice for vulnerable women in Africa; starting a revolution of peace and equality. This is my destiny, my calling, my purpose, or whatever you want to label it. It’s what I was put on this earth to do and there’s nothing that could make me happier than knowing that I’m fulfilling that. I can’t believe I get to live this life.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Sunday, December 23, 2007
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.
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.
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.
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