Archive for October, 2008
further freedom
If you visited Pendrops last week, you may have read a post about modern-day slavery and the movie Call + Response. In my first week as an abolitionist, I have learned that ending slavery is an unsexy exercise in endurance and sacrifice rather than a fiery-hot flash of zeal. Those who have been fighting for justice know this – they have been fighting for years.
As I’ve begun to understand this race of perseverance, I’ve discovered some practical, long-term things I can do to further freedom. If you’re interested in walking out this path, I want to let you in on a few steps you can take on the journey.
1. Contact your representatives. And contact your senators. They need to know you care about ending slavery, especially since it’s happening right here on American soil.
2. Get educated by reading news reports and signing up for e-newsletters at sources sensitive to human trafficking. Sources like International Justice Mission, Free the Slaves, Not For Sale and IRIN Humanitarian News. These sources will give you the stories mainstream media skips and you’ll be in the know about important news.
3. We all buy stuff and it’s not unusual for us to be oblivious about where our t-shirt was made or who picked the coffee beans we grind each morning or under what conditions our earrings were crafted. But when you spend a few dollars extra and shop at stores like the ones below, you can be sure you’re cultivating liberty.
Equal Exchange Delectable chocolates and teas that support coffee and cocoa growers.
Land of 1000 Hills Coffee A delicious alternative to the burnt ‘bucks blends. Plus it helps coffee growers maintain sustainable farming practices and, more importantly, their dignity.
Your Local Farmers Market Shopping at your local farmers market is a great way to support growers in your neighborhood, show pride in your community, and find fresh seasonal fare grown slave-free. There’s just something about personally knowing the farmers who grow the food you eat.
Made by Survivors & Global Girlfriend The items at these sites allow workers to gain economic freedom, are created in fair conditions, treat the environment gently, and provide education and opportunity, identity and hope to those in poverty-stricken nations. By buying clothes, jewelry, and gifts from stores like this, you can avoid purchasing products that may have been made by slaves.
These are just a few steps and, like any journey worth taking, it requires effort, thought, time, and sacrifice. But it is an on-going journey, a continuous conversation, a progressive awareness. A journey well worth the climb as we persevere in freedom, one step at a time.
to vote
I just got done casting my ballot at the early voting facility near my house. No matter how many times I vote, I get choked up. And no, it’s not because I’m so passionate about the candidates and their causes. On the contrary, I feel tremendous indifference toward the politicians I voted for today, irritated and exasperated with the inadequate choices we have for our national leaders, these people who are supposed to represent me.
But all disgruntled-ness aside, I voted. And I got bleary eyed.
Because my uncle, a Vietnam veteran, saw human horrors more tragic and disgusting and haunting than anyone should ever have to see. My father-in-law suffered war, too. Along with countless other men and women – some injured, some dead. Just to secure my freedom to vote.
And because less than 90 years ago, women couldn’t vote. They fought for seventy years – good God, seventy years! – for the honor and privilege and dignity of going to the polls alongside the menfolk. They endured prison cells, social rejection, and physical abuse just to secure my freedom to vote.
Because someday, some 20 years from now, my son or daughter will vote. And the choices I make today – however frustrating or dissatisfying those choices seem – will impact my children. Because if I don’t voice my political opinion, if I don’t lay hold of the costly freedoms bought for me, if I don’t stand with generations of women, who knows if those freedoms will still be there for the taking. So I voted for them. Just to secure their freedom to vote.
1 Commentfreedom’s sacred cause
“Never forget justice is what love looks like in public.”
Relegated to the furthest corner of the movie-plex, Call + Response, a new “rockumentary to expose the world’s 27 million most terrifying secrets,” played for its lone audience member: me. In the haunting solitude of the dim theater, the weight of human trafficking crushed me. Where the tragedy of modern-day slavery is concerned I still have so much to learn. I am undone, even before the movie begins, sitting alone in the cinema’s unusual silence.
I want to cry.
I want to rage.
I want to shout,
“I’m here for you, little girl. As you are pulled away from your father and mother who had to send you away to “work” because of their poverty. As you are raped tonight in some dingy Asian brothel. As you are deceived, defaced, dehumanized. I am here, at this movie, for you. I don’t know what else to do. Yet.”
I find myself overwhelmed by the injustices that break the heart of God. What am I to do with 27 million slaves? 27 million faces? 27 million stories? 27 million souls? All I have are questions and more questions as I sit in the dark, trying to wrap my brain around the hideous numbers.
Is this really possible?
With all our civilized-ness and enlightenment are we seriously no further along in our understanding of human value and worth?
Are we honestly making this mistake again?
Tonight, I don’t know the ways to awaken freedom. I only know it involves me. And it involves you.
We may not be able to storm into the brothels in Cambodia and rescue eight-year-old girls from sexual predators. We may not be able to swoop into India and carry away the millions of men and women whose lives are considered less valuable than cattle. We may not be able to free little boys from becoming war children in African tribal conflicts.
But we can start where we are. Here. Today. Mindful. Aware. Listening. Willing. Sacrificing. Enlisting. Hoping. Believing.
Believing that injustice does not have the final say. Believing this too shall be made right.
6 Commentsstories
Today, Jason told his story – his beautiful, stained, intricate story – at our church for a series called (Holy) Ghost Stories. And it got me thinking.
So much of what we know about Jesus is linked to story. He did the majority of His teaching by way of story. And when He wasn’t telling stories, He was entering into the narratives of unlikely and unlikeable men and women.
And I think the thing Jesus wants us to know is that we are called to tell our stories. Tell all the ways in which we were innocent, the ways tragedy was introduced into our innocence, the ways we contend against the tragedy, and where resolution can be found for us.
But the catch is, before we can ever go around telling our stories with any kind of power or beauty, we have to tell our stories to ourselves. We have to own our lives – every moment, every milestone, every loss, every grace.
And then, only when we recount our narratives to ourselves, can we dare to listen. Listen for the absurb and arresting ways redemption would be told.
2 Commentsstutter and all
I’ve been on a brief Pendrops hiatus while putting the finishing touches on my upcoming book, as is. The process definitely took more mental and emotional energy than I anticipated, but I am psyched about the release of my first book in Spring 2009. If you enjoy what you read at Pendrops, you are gonna love it!
That said, let me dive in.
So my fingertips happened to be just out of reach of our remote as a string of maddening commercials began to cycle through while I watched Ellen the other day. I tried to ignore them, but as a crisply trained male voice repeatedly sang, “BA-BA-BA-BA-BABY, you just ain’t seen nothin’-nothin’ yet,” I couldn’t help cringing.
It was too perfect. Too flawless. Too polished. The stutter was fake.
When the original was recorded by Bachman-Turner Overdrive in the 70s, Randy Bachman laid down the famous stutter track as a joke for his brother, Gary, who really did stutter. Now, of course, everyone knows the original, stutter and all: “B-b-b-b-baby, you just ain’t seen n-n-n-nothin’ yet.” And what do we do when we hear it: we try to sing along! (Please tell me I’m not the only one.)
But here was this stupid commercial taking the song and making a stiff rendition, attempting to recreate the stutter as properly as possible.
It got me thinking about the inclination we may have to clean things up, to perfect flaws, to eliminate defects. Flaws and defects that, in the end, actually define our individuality. Flaws like freckles, pooch bellies, and laugh lines. Defects like heart-brokenness, soul-sadness, and stutters. Our first instinct is to disinfect the mess, erase the mistakes, cover up the stutter in our own stories. Because being around someone who stutters, well that’s just awkward, isn’t it?
But there’s also something beautiful there, too, right? In our frailty, failings and foibles. It’s our quirks that make us remarkable, can I get a witness?
Of course, some refining is good, necessary, humbling, and freeing. And I don’t think Scotch or whoever made the commercial would argue with me, even if they did take the stutter out of “You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet” to sell sponges. I just can’t help seeing a trend toward perfection in our culture, a growing penchant for tireless betterment, a fear of being authentic as is.
But I think if we really look at ourselves and those around us, it’s the stutter that we love. It’s the stutter that makes us each unique. It’s the stutter that colors our stories and makes room for redemption.
By the way, Gary doesn’t stutter anymore.
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