we've fallen for TED.

if you haven't heard of TED, it's about time you did. Check out this awesome 15-minute talk by Esther Duflo: http://www.ted.com/talks/esther_duflo_social_experiments_to_fight_poverty.html

absence makes the heart

it's amazing what distance can do to a relationship.


since college - where we lived mere inches away from one another at times - Heidi and i have spent less than a week within 2,267.9 miles of each other. approximately. we spent a few months with no contact at all - never suspecting God to be leading us along the same path. in separate time zones with separate schedules and separate lives, we often struggle to keep accountable to each other. some weeks (like this one) we're on the phone every night, too excited to wait for office hours. we talk about new boots (i hope you keep them!) and new friends and new struggles, how excited we are about SOMOchristmas and the Justice Conference. but some weeks just miss the mark ... and miss the call. we can't seem to meet in the middle. we send demanding texts. we write careless e-mails. cordiality is spared in an attempt to change the world and how! 


so they say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and i know what they're getting at. everything tastes better when you haven't had it in forever. marilynne robinson, one of my favorite authors, writes,  “to crave and to have are as like as a thing and its shadow. for when does a berry break upon the tongue as sweetly as when one longs to taste it, and when is the taste refracted into so many hues and savors of ripeness and earth, and when do our senses know any thing so utterly as when we lack it? and here again is a foreshadowing -- the world will be made whole. for to wish for a hand on one's hair is all but to feel it. so whatever we may lose, very craving gives it back to us again." 


there's something so heartbreakingly human about missing someone. recognizing their absence. sensing the void. when i saw Heidi after a year apart, all the stressful conversations and utterly human miscommunications melted away in the Houston heat. without the adequate amount of time to become dissatisfied with something or someone or ourselves for that matter, we lived le vie en rose. everything coming up daisies. the glass half full. but given a little time, the ennui kicks in. 


maybe it's just my personality. maybe i'm a little jaded in our post-modern world. we take ourselves very seriously. after all, this is real life. sometimes absence is nothing more than a refreshing vacation. sometimes it just feels nice to fall off the radar. but then again, it gets lonely going stag. the life of a hermit, though not without its benefits, is a introspective - and thus extremely dangerous - one. but it is during this absence that i begin to understand more clearly that it isn't necessarily Heidi that changes in between our rendezvous. i'm the one that changes. i look differently at myself. and my heart grows. somehow. 


this may be the first time in our lives that it's okay to say "this is about me. my need to get over myself and give people a break." especially the people in our daily lives. you know, we want to fly half way across the world to love on strangers, but God forbid we have to love our actual neighbor. love our families. love our friends.


maybe the heart doesn't always grow fonder. fondness doesn't seem to go deep enough ... it doesn't seem to encompass the wholeness of the sensation. maybe we learn to let go of the little things that drive a wedge between ourselves and the human beings we love. maybe it's the way my brother chews potato chips. maybe it's when people say "i could care less." (you couldn't care less. unless of course you could, in which case you probably oughtn't say it at all.)


so ... maybe fonder isn't the right word. maybe absence just makes the heart grow up?

blessed are the peacemakers.

ten years ago, i woke up a little earlier than usual and wandered downstairs. the blinds were still closed, but the bright morning sunshine was already creeping its way in long thin strips across the living room floor. my mother knelt in her bathrobe, mere inches away from the television, sound nearly off. through bleary eyes i strained to see what she was watching. i moved closer, dropped down beside her. the phone lay limp in her hand, her mouth slight agape as she sat mesmerized by the screen. i turned my head to watch the broadcast. i saw a building filled with smoke. i heard screaming. a man leapt from a hundredth story window.

i turned to my mother. her eyes filled with questions and shock. i began to cry. what's going on? 

every year, September rolls around and i begin to avoid the newspapers and radios and televisions. the month that hosts my parent's wedding anniversary, the day we founded SOMObeads, my birthday ... this month is also the harbinger of one of the most question-inducing days of my life. how do you live in a world that seems so completely overwhelmed by injustice? how could the fourteen-year-old me even begin to be the change? i was afraid. i was confused. i was furious.

what began in my heart that day could have formed into a full-fledged hatred; for many it did. racial and religious discrimination unlike any i'd ever seen was birthed, and the success of the attacks we witnessed were multi-fold: not only were irreplaceable lives lost to this world, but hearts were overcome by the poison unleashed that day... distrust. despair. hatred.

it's hard not to hate sometimes, isn't it? how can you read about little boys like Hamza Ali al-Khjateeb, the 13-year-old brutally tortured and murdered in Syria, and not feel that darkness of hatred creeping into their hearts? you watch Joseph Kony tell an interviewer that he is on a mission to save Uganda. he truly believes he is seeking justice and peace. he murders and steals and kidnaps, and i am called to pray for him. we are called to love, to make peace, if we ever wish to have a part in bringing about peace to a world that so desperately needs it. but how?

Ghandi told us, " if we are to teach real peace in the world, and if we are to carry on a real war against war, we shall have to begin with the children."this is why SOMObeads so greatly believes in the power of HEALS. this is why we ask you to join us as we strengthen a rising generation. because the desire for what is good must be nurtured from the start. to create rather than destroy. to heal rather than hurt. to seek justice rather than power. to dream rather than despair. to give rather than take. to love, not to hate. because the path of hatred may seem easier, but it will only lead us to utter destruction and sadness. it is the path of love, however difficult, however treacherous, however exhausting, that will lead us to a land of rejoicing and perfect peace. the path of ultimate love can lead us nowhere but the open arms of Jesus Christ.

i'm done avoiding the TV. i'm through putting off the sadness. to ignore the hurt only means i am still a victim of my own propensity to hate. but if i can allow myself to feel every ounce of agony this world is ready to throw at me, if i will take up my cross as my savior took His so many years ago, He will walk with me. He will turn my pain into something far more powerful. He will make me overflow with love. and oh! how i long to overflow with love.

tomorrow SOMObeads celebrate's it's 1st birthday. hard to believe we have been seeking justice for the people of Gulu for a year. thank you for acting on love with us. thank you for supporting. we cannot wait to see what is in store for the next 365 days, but we know that it is going to be amazing. so lock yourself in. get ready.

let's create. let's heal. let's seek justice. let's be dreamers. let's give more. 

let us love.

a coffee shop interview.

we met on the swings. she looks like yellow. her favorite word is wanderlust. and according to a three-year-old that is something of a expert on these things, she looks like a deer.

meet Danielle “Howdy” Howden, our brandspankin’ new Business Development Coordinator for the Northwest Region.

Howdy’s actually been involved with SOMO in some fashion or other since our official beginning last year, so it’s only appropriate that she becomes an official addition to our team. take a moment to get to know a little bit about her …

say the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word “Education.”

literature. (is it lame that i said that?) ... anything you could ever learn finds it's way into literature. it's the heart throb of humanity. 

what's on your nightstand right now?

a leaf fossil from Central Oregon. a book on parenting (nanny research). journal. a postcard from the 30s. chapstick. an ugly lamp with a square shade - i hate it. and a maglight in case the power goes out because i'm afraid of the dark. 

who do you admire?

Amy Carmichael, a missionary that would sneak into Hindu temples in the night and rescue girls from a life of prostitution. just like that. she started an orphanage and was called her "Amma," which means mother. i really admire her.

"you can give without loving, but you cannot love without giving." - A.C.

  

what's the last book you read?

Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

what's a Bible verse that inspires you right now?

Romans 12:14-21. live peaceably with all. rejoice with those who rejoice. weep with those who weep. overcome evil with good.

why SOMObeads?

it's kind of a why not thing. i love empowered women. i love Africa. i want to see everyone given the opportunity to live an enjoyable life - i care about justice that empowers people ... giving people the means of expression and earning for themselves the things they desire. SOMO does this. it isn't just a charity. i love being able to see the funds go straight to the children and see them get what every kid deserves. and watch it firsthand. SOMObeads allows an immediate illustration of hope and empowerment. it's tangible. people working together to bring change and joy and fuller life. 

and she likes kosher hotdogs! bonus!

handle with care.

i went to the post office today. opened up the PO box and found a little pink slip - not the kind that sends you to the principal's office, but the kind that says, "you got a package and it doesn't fit in your mail box!" so i waited patiently in line while the postmistress helped other patrons, until finally it was my turn. i proudly presented my slip, and she handed to me a worn envelope with a big sticker on the front that read, "HANDLE WITH CARE."

i smiled at the thought of that statement - little does the United States Postal Service realize the amount of care that went into preparing the package. i hurried outside and ripped open the envelope. (i also bought a sheet of Mark Twain stamps.)

i'm not really a cryer, but as i sat outside the post office reading through the brightly colored & stickered & crayoned & markered cards from the kids at Swan Lake Vacation Bible School, i couldn't help but tear up. (i called my mom. and she cried, too.) you see, a couple of months ago, SOMObeads was contacted via facebook to partner with a VBS in the midwest as their mission of choice. we had been thinking for a while that it would be incredible to work with kids and foster in them a desire to help other kids who haven't had as many opportunities. and then we didn't move forward with it. so God took over.

after a series of emails, an eventful phone call and a frantic summer, i now sit with 111 cards in my lap and the most sincere gratitude in my heart for the children and families that set time aside to say, "i care about Gulu, Uganda."Not only did they pray for us and raise money for H.E.A.L.S., they also shared many beautiful words with us. these are just a few ...

"you are special." - Hannah

"God will always be there for you! He loves you no matter what!" - Luc

"dear Uganda, i hope u are all safe and God does to, because He made u, He listens to u, and he watches over u." - Kaylee

"Jesus loves you!" - Jessica

"i won't you to have more mune." (Translation: "i want you to have more money.") - Zoe

and little Ty, who has blond ringlets and shared a pretty snazzy crayon picture.


apwoyo. thank you. thank you. thank you.

i'm a person.

the last couple of weeks have been a real challenge. and i mean a real challenge. a series of Jonah days, dare i say? (if you catch the reference. like, i didn’t want to and i tried not to but then i got swallowed by a fish so things really aren’t working out for me right now.)

so i’ve been trying to strike a balance between being useful and productive and being good to myself. because it’s easy not to be good to yourself these days. especially if you have a heart for justice ... you know the feeling. you tend to write yourself off, because you have things pretty good after all, and it isn’t like your life is on the line every day. it isn’t like you might not eat tomorrow. it isn’t like you’ve lost everything.

but then again. you’re a person. period. you have these things – i think they’re called “needs” – that must be met. that must be acknowledged if you are to be whole. an entire being capable of loving and giving to others. and it kind of levels the playing field, doesn’t it? it’s not like i don’t have problems. i’m not super human. i need relief just like my neighbor. we could all use a little help now and again.

so i've pulled out some origami paper and gotten to work on a little crane project i’ve been envisioning for some time. and as I carefully fold creases, i let myself let go of the day, the week, the frustrations. i put my mind to the little delights of hearing a friendly voice over a long distance line, the cool night air rustling the papers on the kitchen table, the dancey beat of Santigold on the speakers and the smell of Howdy’s leftover supper. (Howdy is my housemate, childhood friend, and newest SOMO addition – you’ll meet her next week.)

we give a lot, people. and that’s a good thing. a really, really good thing. we make the world a little better. we try. we fail. we try. we succeed. and sometimes we take a little break. and that’s a good thing, too.

(and if you find yourself having a jonah day, watch Mushishi. it’s a lifesaver. but do the subtitles, because Japanese is too beautiful.)

so what's the deal with hand made?

oh, you mean besides being totally awesome?!?

i never knew a time before machines made the majority of the goods produced in the world. chickens are plucked by robots, vehicles are made by mechanical assembly lines, my clothes are sewn by the distant cousins of Edward Scissorhands. it's a little freaky when we stop to think about it.

don't get me wrong. i would be a miserable mess without modernity. i am a cowardly hypocrite. i complain about what's wrong with the world, but i don't make as many sacrifices as i should to effect change. why don't i? because they're sacrifices. they're hard. and i make the mistake of thinking like so many others, that i don't have the power to make changes that change the world.

but why does this matter, really? well, i guess it depends on who you talk to, but in my book, there's just something je ne sais quoi about owning something beautiful and knowing it was created by a fellow human being. and not just some stranger, but a woman with a life and a family and a history. and a future. a future she's inviting me to become a part of if i choose to take her hand and walk with her.

see, we're all really just looking for a connection. life sometimes feels like a series of missed opportunities - friendships that may have been life-changing had we given them the chance. but we didn't.

it's just tempting to get caught up in the whirlwind of our society - to buy something because it's cheap and easy - two highly overrated qualities in our modern world. we run from committing ourselves because it requires time and trust and risk. we give a little of ourselves and we wonder how much we'll have left in the end.

but then something so strange and wonderful happens. we share a little bit of ourselves. and we are replenished. but surprisingly, we get paid back with interest. we somehow have more of ourselves to offer than we ever had before. and suddenly, we can't stop giving of ourselves . . . we want to share more and give someone else the opportunity to share with us. it's incredibly addictive.

isn't there something magical about a friend across the ocean? someone who sends you her crafts - beads she has labored from her own imagination, with her own hands, her own heart - and entrusted them to you. and in turn, you offer her an opportunity at a life different than that she knows. but more than that, you tell her that you care what happens to her. and it's possible that "i love you" shouts louder than all the others. it tells her she matters. she's worthy. she's precious. she's loved.

so, you see? it's a big freakin' deal.