Friday, July 17, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
A preview of rants to come.
I pull into the parking spot; my heart leaps a bit. I recognize this car. Could it be theirs? I get out grab my laptop, all the while scanning the businesses and parking lot for those three little rascals. But alas, they are not there. It is not their car. I should know better by now; it’s never their car and they are never there.
(Royal Family Kids camp is a one-week residential summer camp for neglected and abused children ages 7 to 11. Most of the time a 6 or 12 year old sneaks in there but frankly we’d keep them forever if we could.)
I proceed to Starbucks and settle into my regular place. As I cozy up with my coffee I find myself fighting back tears. Anger wells up inside of me. I feel like a little kid throwing angry punches while my older sibling holds me away with the palm of his hand on my forehead.
(I tried really hard in writing this to write about all of the amazing things that took place this week at camp. There are those who did and if I can I would like to include them in this blog. However, each time I sat down to write about it, I couldn’t write about the warm positive feelings I experienced because they were overshadowed by a great deal of frustration)
I am angry at the Church for their ignorant indifference towards this ministry. I am wrong about a lot of things but this I know for certain: When it is easier for me to get my non Christian friends to donate their time, their money and their thoughts to this cause, we have a problem. The Church has dropped the ball. When I am on a trash walk and the pastor of the Church comes out to ask if we can make sure to get the street next to his church, devoid of gratitude, The Church has dropped the ball.
There is more to be said, and believe me it will be said but this is all I could write at this time. So I leave you with this: We may never become the majority or the standard but of this be certain, we will always be the thorn in your side.
“Hope has two beautiful daughters; their names are anger and courage. Anger at the way things are, and courage to see that they do not remain as they are.” St. Augustine
(Royal Family Kids camp is a one-week residential summer camp for neglected and abused children ages 7 to 11. Most of the time a 6 or 12 year old sneaks in there but frankly we’d keep them forever if we could.)
I proceed to Starbucks and settle into my regular place. As I cozy up with my coffee I find myself fighting back tears. Anger wells up inside of me. I feel like a little kid throwing angry punches while my older sibling holds me away with the palm of his hand on my forehead.
(I tried really hard in writing this to write about all of the amazing things that took place this week at camp. There are those who did and if I can I would like to include them in this blog. However, each time I sat down to write about it, I couldn’t write about the warm positive feelings I experienced because they were overshadowed by a great deal of frustration)
I am angry at the Church for their ignorant indifference towards this ministry. I am wrong about a lot of things but this I know for certain: When it is easier for me to get my non Christian friends to donate their time, their money and their thoughts to this cause, we have a problem. The Church has dropped the ball. When I am on a trash walk and the pastor of the Church comes out to ask if we can make sure to get the street next to his church, devoid of gratitude, The Church has dropped the ball.
There is more to be said, and believe me it will be said but this is all I could write at this time. So I leave you with this: We may never become the majority or the standard but of this be certain, we will always be the thorn in your side.
“Hope has two beautiful daughters; their names are anger and courage. Anger at the way things are, and courage to see that they do not remain as they are.” St. Augustine
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Fudddddgggeee, I'm 23
23 years ago I was born. It’s a bit odd, I really have no idea where the time went and I can’t even imagine what the next 23 years will be like. But the one thing that I can say for sure is that I am blessed. I’m blessed to be 23 years old, inexperienced and what some would patronizingly call naive. What my 23 years of “naivety” and lack of “real world experience” (whatever the heck that means) has afforded me is the ability to be audaciously idealistic.
Dear Self,
Happy Birthday.
I pray that you never lose hope. Hold fast to the belief that things can be better, that the world can be better. There are those who will tell you that these things simply cannot be done. They will try to package their pessimism as “realism” and claim wisdom. But be weary, their agedly wisdom is counterfeit and their capacity to hope boldy has been choked out by the fallacious “real world.” When someone tries to tell you that your efforts are foolish and unrealistic, I pray that you will respond with the same passionate defiance as the little boy with the starfish (http://www.starrbrite.com/starfish.html)
Stick close to those around you who, with their age, have not only grown wise but also increased their capacity for audacious idealism. Continue to believe fervently, as our good friend MLK did, that, “…people everywhere can have three meals a day for their bodies, education and culture for their minds, and dignity, equality and justice for their spirits….that what self-centered [people] have torn down, other-centered [people] can build up.”
Stick it to the man. Dream big and act often. Love liberally and spontaneously. Reconciliation is possible, peace is possible, justice is possible, the elimination of poverty is possible. Those who say otherwise are heretics and to which faith they belong is uncertain. Our God is one of audacious and attainable idealism.
Keep it Real. Much Love,
Yours Truly.
Dear Self,
Happy Birthday.
I pray that you never lose hope. Hold fast to the belief that things can be better, that the world can be better. There are those who will tell you that these things simply cannot be done. They will try to package their pessimism as “realism” and claim wisdom. But be weary, their agedly wisdom is counterfeit and their capacity to hope boldy has been choked out by the fallacious “real world.” When someone tries to tell you that your efforts are foolish and unrealistic, I pray that you will respond with the same passionate defiance as the little boy with the starfish (http://www.starrbrite.com/starfish.html)
Stick close to those around you who, with their age, have not only grown wise but also increased their capacity for audacious idealism. Continue to believe fervently, as our good friend MLK did, that, “…people everywhere can have three meals a day for their bodies, education and culture for their minds, and dignity, equality and justice for their spirits….that what self-centered [people] have torn down, other-centered [people] can build up.”
Stick it to the man. Dream big and act often. Love liberally and spontaneously. Reconciliation is possible, peace is possible, justice is possible, the elimination of poverty is possible. Those who say otherwise are heretics and to which faith they belong is uncertain. Our God is one of audacious and attainable idealism.
Keep it Real. Much Love,
Yours Truly.
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