ShePonders: Covenant

” (T)he text is quite clear that we are to be covenant to those who are on the edges of society.”

By Kelley Johnson-Nikondeha | Twitter: @kelljnik

Clustered around the front of the building were a myriad of mothers. Some stood together, chatting. One fussed with her child’s wayward cowlick and others were preoccupied with their phones. But one stood out: the mother wearing the black hijab in the Arizona sun, standing all alone as if others had created a force field around her. I stood next to her and was instantly greeted with a smile. It was the first day of school for her son and she was a bit nervous, as well as curious about all the details of drop-off, pick-up, etc. Our first conversation was about school protocol, laced with assurances that her son would make friends and have a good time in class.

I clearly saw that others did not want anything to do with her. She was so foreign, so different, so other. She was clearly from the Middle East somewhere and maybe even Muslim. In my state, not known for tolerance to immigrants, she literally stood on the margins. And I was drawn to her.

This friendship was underway when I encountered Isaiah 49:8 where God says to His servant, “I have kept you and I have given you as a covenant to the people.”

Covenant

Covenant is such a heavy word in the Old Testament, yet to our modern ears it’s a bit cumbersome and cryptic.  Covenant is, basically, a solemn agreement. It is more than a mere contract. Some describe it as a blood oath, since cutting a covenant often involved the spilling of blood (be it bulls split in half or circumcision). Over the years, God has cut many covenants with His people, like Moses, Jacob and David. One covenant resulted in a rainbow!  Then there was the Abrahamic covenant where God promised Abraham a son (even in his old age) and a prolific progeny that would be blessed in order to be a blessing to all the nations.

God makes covenants. He makes promises.  And the essence of the covenant is His very word. “My word is my bond” comes to mind. Covenant is about deep bonding, fidelity and unending commitment.

But what is striking in Isaiah is not that God says we ought to make covenant with others, but that we are to be covenant to them. We are given as covenant … What could that possibly mean?

We can find a bit more context when we realize this phrase is mentioned earlier in Isaiah 42.  And there is a pattern we can see in both passages. God says His people have been kept, that God has taken care of us.  Then there is the declaration that we are given as covenant–to prisoners.  In ancient Palestine it was clear who the prisoners were – they were the outcasts, the poor, those on the margins.  I hear echoes of “blessed to be a blessing to the nations” in those words: “kept to be a covenant to prisoners.”

God is saying something very similar, right?  But what I hear in the move from Genesis to Isaiah is some fine-tuning. He brings it closer. God makes this more intimate by saying that we are the covenant. We embody covenant!

We are cared for by God, so that we can in turn care for others. But the others are not only friends who move in our own social circles; actually the text is quite clear that we are to be covenant to those who are on the edges of society. We are to be the physical manifestation (dare I say “incarnation”) of covenant to those who are most vulnerable, misunderstood and imprisoned.

Walter Brueggemann frames it this way:  “The text does not say, I have given you to make covenant, but to be a covenant, to be the kind of presence in the world that lets folks bond and trust and commit.”  (italics are mine)  This took my breath away!  I am to be a covenantal presence in this world, embodying fidelity and trustworthiness.

“I am called to be the safe place for those who feel at risk in society.”

This school year a lovely friendship has blossomed between Tahany and me. When she is sick, I pick up her son from school. When there are too many grape leaves to roll alone, she teaches me how and we work together for hours, all the while sipping on sage tea from Palestine. My son calls Jamal and Abraham his little brothers and my daughter knows Tahany and the boys to be her family (her own word). We have sat in doctor’s offices together, waited for the kids to be released from school and shared long park days together.  I am leaning into being covenant to her–to be a place where she can feel less marginalized and more embraced, not alone but one who belongs. I believe that God has kept me and given me as covenant to her and her boys.

One Word

“Covenant” is my “one word” for 2012.  God is taking this weighty word from ancient Palestine and making it fresh, real and active today in my modern setting. I want to be that kind of presence in the world–where scared people feel safe, where misunderstood folks get a shot at understanding, where those I usually would walk around become those I stand next to and begin a conversation.

I want to be a safe place–I have been kept by God for such a purpose.  I have been kept–not for my own interests, but for the good of the neighborhood. I have been given as covenant to my community. I embody God’s fidelity, His goodness and tenderness … especially to those who stand at risk.

This word has already changed who I see … as I am now aware of who is at the edge and in need of some covenant goodness.

You are given as a covenant in your community as well, to embody God’s faithful and loving presence in the neighborhood. Who is at risk? Who is standing alone?  Who needs a safe place? Let’s go to them.

____________________________

Image credit: Palestinian girl, by Ekaterina Boym-Medler

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Dear SheLovers, I’d love to hear:

• What has been your understanding of covenant?
• Who is a safe place for you?
• Who do you see on the edges of the society you live in?

About Kelley:

Kelley Johnson Nikondeha is co-director of Amahoro Africa and international staff member of Community of Faith with her husband Claude. She’s a thinker, connector, advocate, avid reader and mother of two beautiful children. Kelley lives between Arizona and Burundi. She loves handwritten letters, homemade pesto and anything written by Walter Brueggemann.

Re-post: TGIF: Why is Beyonce Giving Me Mixed Signals?

On skytrain journalism, sanitary pads and the real face of dignity.

by Tina Francis | Twitter: @teenbug
_________________________________________________________________

I don’t typically brood over words like “dignity” while chomping on a piece of toast on a Thursday morning. I’m usually preoccupied with trying to make decisions like, “Can I get away with not washing my hair today?” or “How long can I sit on Facebook before I’m officially late for work?”

This week, however, was different. I came face-to-face with the stark reality that dignity is:
- A vague concept.
- A scarce commodity.

Allow me to illustrate my point by going over my week.

Monday: I spot this guy on the Skytrain. The repressed journalist in me just HAD to take a picture of his hoodie.

It’s a little hard to read in the picture because I was trying to be discreet. His hoodie says, “Chicks should come in six packs.” The infamous mudflap girl imprinted on each can. Pun intended.

The feminist in me was appalled. For the record: I’m not anti-men. I’m just pro-women.

Tuesday: I read this really great article: “MILFs and Happy Endings” (You should read it too.)

“Was it just me, or was I being bullied, along with everyone else, into having to accept porn’s invasion into everyday life with its coarseness as the new norm?”- Lili Bee

Wednesday: I sat across from this guy…

“My parts are the best,” his T-shirt reads. TMI … but I’ll take your word for it kind sir. On closer inspection, it’s mudflap girl again! Only this time she’s on her knees. I’d like to give her the benefit of the doubt, but I’m guessing she’s not changing the tires.

How does a woman living in today’s world define “dignity” when the media tells us we are most appreciated on our knees, half-dressed, preferably in front of an automobile.

Don’t believe me? Take Beyonce’s music video “Run the World” for example. Ms. Knowles is singing about female empowerment on all fours in front of a car. Look at the similarities between the T-shirt and the video.

Car? Check. Mudflap girl? Check. Girl power? I don’t think so. Talk about sending mixed signals.

I really don’t want this to sound Anti-Beyonce because I love the girl. She can sing, dance and is a successful business woman. What’s not to love? It just bothers me that the music video for a song about girl power is communicating a conflicting message.

Why aren’t there more T-shirts emblazoned with the faces of Rosa Parks, Madeleine Albright and Margaret Atwood? I’d wear that!

Thursday: As you can imagine I was feeling pretty deflated by this point. The overly sexualized imagery and language surrounding my gender was depressing.

In an effort to cheer myself up I was browsing through the Living Hope website on my lunch break. Looking through the photos on the website, I saw a true picture of dignity. I saw women with deep-rooted self-worth, effortless grace, resourceful spirit, fervent courage and untainted joy.

This is the kind of “girl power” that appeals to me. I’m tired of the in-your-face, skin-baring, swearing-like-a-sailor, overly sexual, middle-finger showing, aggressive, violent, catty, condescending “girl power” the media advertises. It’s a cop-out. It’s counterfeit.

True girl power is someone who forgives the unforgivable, loves the unlovable and dares to show up for life even at the risk of getting hurt in the process.

“What should move us to action is human dignity: the inalienable dignity of the oppressed, but also the dignity of each of us. We lose dignity if we tolerate the intolerable.”- Dominique De Menil

The Intolerable: Abducted, gang-raped, infected with AIDS, left for dead, mutilated, forgotten, beaten, disfigured, shunned from society and sold as sex slaves.

“Restoring dignity” is the mandate of the

2. Making Honey

3. I was saving the best for last, a brilliant initiative called “MAKAPADS.”

According to UNICEF, approximately 1 in 10 African girls will skip school during menstruation because they fear being ridiculed or stigmatized. Rural schools don’t usually have proper toilet facilities or water and girls can’t afford sanitary pads. Often times they have to resort to unsanitary alternatives like leaves or cloth. This is the crucial juncture where many girls drop out of school.

The Living Hope ladies in Gulu have been part of an initiative that provides affordable sanitary pads, called Makapads made mainly of papyrus reeds and almost entirely of local materials. It is exciting because, not only is this a skills development opportunity, but the ladies also get to be a part of an initiative that is giving a new generation of girls the opportunity to remain in school.

The finished product is pretty impressive if you ask me!

“Our ladies are not a drama of victimization; they are a story of empowerment that transforms formerly abducted little girls into successful businesswomen.”- Marilyn Skinner, Founder of Watoto – Living Hope

Transforming abducted girls into successful business women?!

Hello? I love that.

“All labor that uplifts humanity has dignity and importance and should be undertaken with painstaking excellence.”
- Martin Luther King, Jr.

What I’ve Learned About Dignity Through My Camera Lens

“Like many things, I begin to understand dignity best when I notice it’s missing.”

By Stephanie Motz Skinner | Twitter: @stephmotz

Photography has taught me a lot about dignity. There is something powerful and manipulative about images–our lives are filled with them. When I first started photographing people, I began to understand that by composing the image and releasing the shutter, I was exerting control. I was defining a reality for whoever might see my picture. This realisation was both exciting and frightening.

When I moved to Uganda, I was confronted by so many harsh realities and I found them compelling and shocking at the same time. It’s easy to respond to a unique experience–I think we are wired that way–but I think the best photographs are the ones that bring out the best in people. I have discovered that there is a certain dignity that exists in the places where people must battle and endure, and this is what I strive to capture.

“So, like the camera strapped to my shoulder and the notepad tucked into my bag, I pin dignity to my heart so that I’m reminded to extend it to the people I photograph.”

Simply put, dignity is the state or quality of being worthy of honour or respect. I think it’s something we are all entitled to, because we have been created in God’s image. Like many things, I begin to understand dignity best, when I notice it’s missing.

Everything about my work demands that I live out respect, and so I become more intentional about treating others with dignity. When I think of dignity as an interaction and an attitude, I imagine a Living Hope woman striding confidently, her face glowing in the sun. She smiles shyly into the camera while we photograph her, and her face speaks to us of strength and kindness. We encourage her, so that she feels comfortable. Through the process we remark on her natural beauty. We listen to her story and we pay attention. We try to discover who she is and what she likes and we try to find ways in which we can connect and make her smile.

We work with people whose lives have been defined by the rejection, humiliation, and pain they have experienced, so we try to give them a different experience. We want them to feel worthy and beautiful. We understand the privilege of our work and so we try to honour them. This is one of the great joys of our work.

Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. – Plato

When I get home after a long day of working “in the field,” I wash the sticky layer of dust and sweat from my face and I change out of my dirty clothes. Often, in that process, I put away my intentional approach of seeking dignity and I store it safely with the other tools of my profession. It’s in the most common interactions of my day-to-day life that I find myself forgetting to treat people as if they are worthy of honour and respect. Instead, I give into stress at work and explode when facing an obstacle, or I shake my fist in the air because of a negligent motorcycle taxi. I’ll sometimes stand in front of the mirror and subject myself to the indignity of self-loathing and harsh criticism.

I want to strive to live the credo of my work in every aspect of my life. It’s easy to treat people with dignity when I feel it’s required. But in reality, dignity is something we all need–no matter who we are–in order to flourish. It’s in the ordinary interactions of every day life that I have the chance to make someone feel noticed, appreciated and respected. I need to remember we all have our own mountain to climb and that every interaction has the potential to build a little courage or chip away at hope.

My dear SheLoves friends, I’d love to hear:

• What does dignity look like to you?
• What reminds you to treat others with dignity?
• Where do you struggle with extending dignity?

_______________________________________________

About Stephanie:
I believe in the power of storytelling. I’m a photographer and writer for Fakeleft. Together with my husband, we love sharing stories of courage, of strength in the face of adversity, of triumph and hope. I truly believe that by partnering with others who want to bring change and justice to our world, we can actually make a difference.  I’m learning to walk in my nascent faith, but it’s not always easy. It’s an interesting journey.

I am currently living in Uganda, but my heart is everywhere. I’m a proud Latina from Choluteca, Honduras. I wish I had a Spanish accent. My favourite meal is dessert and my favourite sport is tanning. I blog at fakeleft.com/blog and tweet at @stephmotz

Sudanese Refugee Boys Sing for Justice: Called Me Out

“Stop the hate and the evil in the world …” –Chakuen Chucks & Youah Mut, Called Me Out

By Jacynta Pittaway

Kony 2012. As this phenomenon sweeps the online world and in turn the world in general, I can’t help but feel an overwhelming urge to jump on the bandwagon with everything I’ve got.

My name is Jacynta. I’m currently living in Berwick, Australia. Under a year ago I started working, through the Salvation Army, with youth from South Sudan and their parent (or parents) who brought them to Australia as refugees from their war-ravaged homes. They are the ones picking up the pieces of years of LRA intimidation and violence.

Where I work, we have contact with about fifty young Sudanese males and females. I have a pretty awesome job. I play basketball, spend nights wrestling, teach and make music and weekly engage in some random fun activity. While this may sound like just simple, fun activities, I have learned that these activities are saving lives and changing communities.

Each one of these youth have their own unique story and so many carry their trauma in silence. Putting myself in their shoes, how do you explain witnessing the violent death of a family member as a child? Or the true pain of starvation? Or even experiences like being on the edge of death and not knowing how you’re alive? Where do you even begin to share those stories with others or reconcile it within yourself?

Yet, even with all this as the foundation of their lives, these youth seem to find a way. In a dynamic like this, it can be difficult to articulate what we achieve with these youth. The best way I can explain it is that, as a team, we seek out opportunities for these youth–opportunities that are a way out of the oppression their past can bring and a bridge towards a hope-filled future.

Let me give you an example:  the boys I work with are in love with basketball. They all secretly hope to play in the NBA one day. One of the boys in particular has trained incredibly hard. Neither one of his biological parents ever came to Australia; he was brought over by another women. His father passed away, fighting for the liberation of South Sudan and he hasn’t seen his biological mother in 10 years. This youth has pushed himself and believed in himself and as a result been offered the opportunity to attend a camp in the USA where college scouts come and see if they want to take anyone onto their teams. This is really his last chance to achieve his dream and it’s an incredible opportunity for him, but also his community as a whole. He needs $5,000 to get there. This is where we come in: we don’t know where we are going to get that money from, but it’s an opportunity and one that holds a lifetime of hope in it, so we will push to do what we can to see this dream become a reality for one boy.

There are more stories like this; the details vary, as do the hopes and dreams. For those that literally have no dreams we fight against the world’s destructive impact and do what we can to draw these kids towards hope.

Called Me Out

Recently, I asked two of our youth Chakuen (pronounced Shar-qwin) and Youah (pronounced Yow-uh) to write a song about their experience as refugees. They wrote about the journey from South Sudan to Australia and the struggles they have had on both ends, I told them that in this song they would be speaking for many people. They embraced the opportunity and we collaborated–the boys wrote the verses and wrote the chorus and melody. Both have very clear memories of their struggle and this song is just one form of expression for them. They are 16 and 17 years old.

They sing: 

“In the Lord’s eye

We are all counted as equal

The wars around the wold

Is all nonsense and evil

I went through the struggle

And came out a hero”

So, as the world looks at Kony and the devastation these kids know well, I can’t help but feel an incredible sense of Justice as we draw these youth into advocacy against someone who has inflicted so much grief upon their lives and stolen so much from an already struggling people group. It gets me pumped! Let’s stand as global community and say, ENOUGH!

_________________________

LINKS

Editor’s note:

If you’d like to learn more about Joseph Kony and the LRA’s activity in the South Sudan, Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) and Central African Republic (CAR), here are some links for background:

• Most comprehensive report on the LRA I have read so far by Sudan Human Security Baseline Assessment: Download the report as PDF: SmallArmsSurveySudan.org 
• The Star.com: Who is Joseph Kony? A look at the Ugandan warlord, March 8 (a good timeline) Notice: He started moving into the South Sudan in early 2008.
• AllAfrica.com: South Sudan: Kony Must Be Kicked Out of the Bush to Make People Rest, Feb 28 (does he really only have 20o men now?)
• Interesting research and perspective from the Justice and Reconciliation Project: Pay Us so We Can Forget:* Reparations for Victims and Affected Communities in Northern Uganda

PETITION

Please sign the petition to Canadian PM Stephen Harper. Let’s reach 5,000 signatures! We’re almost there.
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About Jacynta:

Well, what do I say? I’m a 25-year-old chick who stumbled upon justice and fell in love. Now here I am a part of things I never even imagined I would be. I live in Melbourne, Australia. Currently I work with The Salvation Army as a Youth Worker. The youth I work with are mostly refugees from South Sudan and are faced with the difficulties of being the first wave of refugees in Australia from South Sudan. I’m currently studying a Bachelor of Social Work full time at University. It’s not a boring life. Not even close.

International Women’s Day: On Freedom, Distraction and Standing with the Suffering

“Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.” - Arundhati Roy 

By Idelette McVicker | Twitter: @idelette

When I think of International Women’s Day, I am 26 again and a tourist, traveling on my own in New York City and waiting on the pier to go see Lady Liberty.

She beckoned me with her stance, carrying that Freedom torch, watching over a city and welcoming in strangers, immigrants. I was such an eager girl, aching to stretch her arms wide wide wide and find her place in the world.

Liberty stood, unmoving.

ShePonders: Restitution

“… I want to see this kind of salvation come to my house.”
By Kelley Johnson-Nikondeha

Audio: ShePonders: Restitution

Click on the link above for an audio experience of Kelley’s post.

My beloved South African friend, René, traveled in, bringing gifts of rooibos tea and Merlot from a local wine farm. She shared in our holiday tradition of turkey roasting, potato mashing and thanks giving, not that many months ago. She regaled us with tales from her homeland that left us all thoughtful and thankful, for post-Apartheid South Africa is a complex context. We spent the next morning cloistered in conversation while clutching coffee. We spoke of the theological voice of women, restitution, mutual friends, favorite spices and she offered her wickedly good impression of Desmond Tutu.

Yes, we spoke of “restitution.” (Doesn’t everybody?) She is part of The Restitution Foundation, a group of South Africans devoted to thinking and enacting restitution in their country. They offer this scenario as an example:

“Imagine a man’s bicycle is stolen. This now means he has no transport, and cannot get to work; thus he loses his job. Without a job, he cannot educate his children or support his family. Perhaps he used that bicycle to run errands for the homebound elderly woman next door; now she is affected by the loss as well. Jobless and frustrated, he becomes a drain on his community rather than a resource. What would restitution look like in this situation? Certainly it is not just returning the bicycle. He is not the only person who has been affected by the crime; his family, his neighbors and his community have also suffered.”

“Compensation” would dictate that the bike be replaced. “Charity” would suggest offering some food to his family or maybe school supplies for his children. Restitution demands more, but can also deliver something much more lasting and transformative.

As we sipped the dregs of our morning coffee, she shared about her baggage boondoggle. Our domestic carrier charged her twice as much as expected for her two checked bags. This really put a crimp in her already tight budget. So from then on, each time I picked up the check for lunch or paid for her sundries along with mine at the grocery store, I’d wave it off as making restitution to her on behalf of my country’s airline policy. We’d laugh and carry on. It was a joke–because I’d planned on spoiling her every chance I got whilst she was in town! But the joke had legs– ones that began pushing on me in terms of what restitution means in my own context.

Satisfied

After the final meal we shared, she handed me the receipt for her baggage fees and declared that restitution had been satisfied; rather tongue-in-cheek! All laughing aside, I knew a new word had entered my discipleship vocabulary.

Zaccheus

Walking through Jericho one day, Jesus looked beyond and above the crowds and saw a small man perched in a tree. All the locals knew it was Zacchaeus, a rich man due to his work as the chief tax collector.

Jesus called out, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.” The little man moved down the tree and into the street quickly, eyes shining with excitement at the unexpected opportunity to host the Rabbi.

“Lord, half of my possessions I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much.” It was then, after this astonishing statement of restitution, that Jesus declared, “Today salvation has come to this house … ”

Giving half of his possessions to the poor was an extravagant act of charity–a great start. But the most revolutionary action was the decision to offer restitution to those he defrauded. He knew his riches were gained by exploiting the poor and his actions had impoverished an entire community. His offer of restitution demonstrated his awareness that they deserved more than “charity” (discretionary giving from his abundance) and more than “compensation” (dollar for dollar repayment). His offering made it clear that he was moving away from unjust gains and toward the costly practice of justice. I think this is why Jesus declared that salvation, or transformation, had come to his house.

Think about those who he would repay over the next set of days–what must that exchange have been like? They would come face to face with the chief tax collector but this time they would walk away with a heavier purse–radical! They would look him in the eye and he would do the same and maybe for the first time ever they saw each other as “neighbor.” Amazing! This would mark the beginning of a new relationship between them and a new way of engaging in community life together. I imagine Zacchaeus’ road of restitution was hard and had its share of pitfalls as he learned this new practice, but I am convinced it was a worthwhile journey toward the good that blessed the entire neighborhood.

So, here is the lingering question: How do we incorporate the practice of restitution into our daily discipleship? My Palestinian friend makes me laugh. Our kids play together in the park most days. I think of the policies of my country toward her people, her homeland and wonder how I can enact restitution in the context of our friendship. My state is infamous for poor attitudes and treatment of the immigrant community–is this yet another opportunity for me to find some way of living out justice by practicing restitution?

The Restitution Foundation in South Africa helps whites think about their status as beneficiaries of power and privilege, as well as creating opportunities for them to participate in restitution in townships and other communities affected by the injustice of Apartheid. Maybe we be could reflect on how we might be beneficiaries of our own systems and consider the power and privilege we possess. Then, let’s get creative and imagine how we could practice acts of restitution for individuals of these communities.

It will be costly, radical and deeply transformative. But I want to see this kind of salvation come to my house!

____________________________________

My dear friends, I would love to hear your thoughts on this:

For example:

• Where have you been the beneficiary of power and/or privilege?
• How can you imagine incorporating the practice of Restitution into your daily discipleship?
• Any other thoughts?

_________________________________

About Kelley:

Kelley Johnson Nikondeha is co-director of Amahoro Africa and international staff member of Community of Faith with her husband Claude. She’s a thinker, connector, advocate, avid reader and mother of two beautiful children. Kelley lives between Arizona and Burundi. She loves handwritten letters, homemade pesto and anything written by Walter Brueggemann.

Why I Can Be Brave This Year

“God calls me out of my cave, out of my tent, to remind me that HE is still certain.”

By Fiona Koefoed-Jespersen | Twitter: @fiona_lynne

My One Word for the year is “BRAVE.” I decided I was lacking some courage, and thought maybe declaring it over myself each morning would help me step outside my comfort zone a little more often.

Just three months ago, I moved to a new city in a new country. I come from England and since I left home at 18, I have lived in Scotland, California and South Africa. The last four years I’ve lived in Brussels–where I met my husband–and at the end of November, we packed up our things and moved a few hours down the road to the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg. Despite having moved around so much, the change was much harder than I had anticipated.

We moved for my husband’s career in a global technology corporation. I’d been working as a lobbyist for a development NGO and although I am still passionate about the issues, I was fed up with the politics and beaurocratic wrangling and happy to be moving on. But my own next steps in work are still unclear.

And so moving has brought a dozen questions crowding to the forefront of my mind:

-Who am I? What is my purpose?

- What am I supposed to be doing with my days?

- Where should I be serving? What about church? Will there be a role for me there? Will I be able to find strong women mentors to stretch and challenge me again?

- Who will be my friends to share my dreams and struggles with? What do I say when people ask, “So, what do you do?”

With the uncertainty and questions have come an element of pride and stubbornness. I miss the role I had in my previous church. I miss being known by everyone. I miss the job I had that allowed me to mingle with CEOs and directors and politicians. Many days I find I have lost the sense of being worth something.

Anchors

At the beginning of the year, I exchanged some emails with an e-friend I got to know through blogging.Through our conversation, I rediscovered two scenes in the Bible that have helped anchor me in the storm of emotions.

1. Get out of your cave

The first picture is of Elijah, standing at the entrance to a cave, high up in the mountains. He’d just had a battle of supernatural proportions against the prophets of Baal, and Elijah’s God, the one true God of Israel, had shown his glory and splendour! This made Elijah rather unpopular, so he’d fled into the mountains, fearful for his life, doubting himself and his mission.

God asked Elijah: What are you doing here?–and Elijah poured out his frustration and despair to him. The Lord told him: Go out of the cave and stand on the mountain in my presence.

Get out of your cave. It may feel like the safest place to be right now, but that is not where I am. I am out here, on the mountain, waiting to speak to you …

2. Come out of your tent

A few hundred years earlier, another doubting man lay in his tent, fearful and wondering. He poured out his heart to God: You have made me so many promises. You told me not to fear, that you are my shield and my great reward, but all I know is that my wife Sarah and I are still childless and I do not understand what’s happening to us.

Then God took him outside his tent and said, Look up! While you lie in your tent you see only your own circumstances, your own abilities and your own strength. But I, your God, am bigger and stronger. Try and count the stars. You can’t! But this is how many your descendants will be. If I can throw the stars into their orbits, I can give you a child. Trust me.

These two pictures continue to speak to me. Two men, doubting the promises made to them, doubting the mission given to them, doubting their ability to fulfil their calling. Lacking courage.

And God spoke to them where they were and said, Come out! See how much bigger, mightier, more faithful and more loving I am than you had imagined.

On Being Brave

It was easier for me to be brave when I had a good job, many local friends, a recognised role at church, a community to be part of. It is harder to be brave when all that seems uncertain.

But this is why I can be brave this year, in this new city and country: Because God calls me out of my cave, out of my tent, to remind me that HE is still certain.

- I can be brave to step out and meet new people, knowing that my closest friend will never leave me nor forsake me.

- I can be brave to go out and ask for work, learn a new language and seek out new opportunities in my career, being confident that he who began a good work in me will bring it to completion.

- I can be brave to explore new ministry opportunities in the church here because I know I am surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses to inspire and encourage me.

- I can be brave about getting to know a new neighbourhood, a new culture, a new way of life, because I know that my God, who is enthroned from of old, does not change.

_________________________

About Fiona: 

I’m an event planner, living in Luxembourg with my Danish husband. I love throwing parties and dinners, gathering people together, seeing the new friendships and plans that emerge. I love seeing people find their role in God’s big story. I like to bake and travel and pick up new traditions.

My word for the year is “brave,” because I don’t want to let fear be the reason I miss out on all God has for me. I blog at fionalynne.com/blog and tweet at @fiona_lynne.

Image credit: Brave butterfly via BraveGirlsClub.com

A Love Letter to my Sisters

On Valentine’s Day and for every day.

For my sisters in Berlin and Bubanza, Taipei and Toronto. For my sisters on facebook and twitter, email and pinterest. For my sisters at Christmas and my sisters on couches. For my sisters in cars and cafes. For the sisters I have met and for those whose stories I have only ever carried in my heart … With Love xo

By Idelette McVicker | Twitter: @idelette

My dear Sister,

I want to be birthed with you

From this big belly of

Sisterhood.

I want to be birthed with you

into our most beautiful, imagined

mirror

of Heaven’s Glory.

I want to be birthed with you

our heads held high

our faces lifted

and shining,

speaking the language of

Dignity, Freedom, Worth.

I want to be birthed with you

So we may belt out the

full range of our voices,

giving expression to the north and south octaves of our lives.

O, imagine the beat

of our hearts together,

sounding a symphony of

Beauty and Grace.

Speaking of Grace,

our beloved sister,

who opened up

the dark closet of

her story and allowed us in.

Then, as we held her precious in the Light and loved off the shame—

she, too, was birthed

into the runner and singer and proclaimer

she had always been.

I want to be birthed with you

So together

we may stand and assist

push and pray

lean in and loosen

one more woman,

into the Light of

her Freedom.

I want to be birthed with you

from this womb made for Goodness and Abundance—

where aches and laughs and hugs grow and bear fruit in our together garden.

Carrying and praying each others’ stories from here to there

and to the ends of the earth.

I want to be birthed with you,

As you birth me.

Together, we are a story that Love makes.

_______________________________

Please consider giving an ID card to our sisters in Bubanza this Valentine’s Day. You can read the original post here.

PURCHASE AN ID CARD HERE:

Please ENTER THE AMOUNT $ you want to donate into the white box HERE and then click “Donate”: 

IMPORTANT:
- Once inside the donation page, please select “No Shipping” and “No State/Province” to avoid extra charges.
- Relate Church is kindly processing the donations.
- Every cent of your donation is going towards identity cards for our sisters in Burundi.

Download this Valentine’s card as a PDF here  and print to give to your Valentine.

Please also SHARE this project with your world, because: 

- This Valentine’s Day, we want to give something that will last long after the roses have wilted and dried.
- This Valentine’s Day, we want to taste the sweet taste of Justice on our tongues.
- This Valentine’s Day, we ask for Dignity for our sisters in Bubanza.

Thank you so much–no, really, thank you–for doing your part, so together we can make a difference.

_____________________________________________________

About Idelette:
I like soggy cereal and I would like to go to every spot on the map of the earth to meet our world’s women.

I dream of a world where no women or girls are for sale. I dream of a world where women and men are partners in doing the work that brings down a new Heaven on earth.

My word for the year is “Roar,” but I have learned it’s not about my voice rising as much as it is about our collective voices rising in unison to bring down walls of injustice.

I have three children and this place–right here, called shelovesmagazine.com–is my fourth baby. I am African, although my skin colour doesn’t tell you that story. I am also a little bit Chinese, because my heart lives there amongst the tall skyscrapers of Taipei and the mountains of Chiufen. Give me sweet chai and I think I’m in heaven. I live in Vancouver, Canada and I pledged my heart to Scott 11 years ago.

I believe in kindness and calling out the song in each other’s hearts. I also believe that Love covers–my gaps, my mistakes and the distances between us. I blog at idelette.com and tweet@idelette.

ShePonders: Abundant Life

“When we have enough human dignity, enough freedom, enough food we actually come to see that we already live a life of abundance.”

By Kelley Johnson-Nikondeha | Twitter: @kelljnik

So often I hear people speaking of  ”abundant life”–wanting it, claiming it as the right of every Christian. In a world that seems to exist in a straightjacket of scarcity, the notion of abundance sounds like a longed for oasis. The potential problem is that if we do not achieve the ideal of abundance, is the promise of Jesus a mere mirage in sands of our desert wandering?

What is Abundant Life–and can we have it?

We hear about the abundant life from the lips of John, the beloved disciple of Jesus. In John 10:10 we learn: “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they might have life, and have it abundantly.” There it is–Jesus came so that we can have abundant life. Boom!

A bit of context is in order here, so let’s widen our lens a bit. Okay, let’s widen the lens a lot, back to chapter nine and the story of the man born blind. The long and the short of it is that Jesus mixed mud and spit, smeared it on his eyes, and when the blind man washed his eyes, he could see. All this happened on Sabbath, which further raised the ire of the already hostile Pharisees. The next 29 verses relay the story of their investigation into the healing. John goes to great length to make clear that the Pharisees can’t believe, are unable to imagine or refuse to accept the reports that Jesus healed a blind man. By the end of the chapter, Jesus basically had turned the tables so the blind can see and the sighted can’t.

I am the Gate.

It is to these sighted-yet-blinded Pharisees that Jesus tells a parable. He talks of sheep, bandits and shepherds. He says the sheep know the voice of their shepherd. But the Pharisees still didn’t get the gist of the story. So Jesus says “I am the gate for the sheep … I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture.”  And in his further explanation of the parable we come to John 10:10 … “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they might have life, and have it abundantly.” The thieves in the parable come to harm the sheep. But Jesus comes to give the sheep abundant life.

Now we can tighten our lens to this set of verses and get a closer look.

First, notice the way abundant life functions in this parable: It is the sheep that are the recipients of abundant life. Interesting.

In the parable the thief comes to steal, kill and destroy. He wants to take the sheep away from the shepherd, kill the woolen animals and destroy the entire sheepfold.

Access

The gate, however, allows access. Those sheep that come through the gate will be saved. How are sheep saved? They are saved from peril like wild animals and, to the point of this parable, they are saved from thieves who mean them harm. Also we are told that the sheep are able to come and go through this gate. They are free to find pasture. So the gate allows the sheep to be saved from physical danger, to have freedom of movement and ample food.

This sounds like a good life for a sheep! You might even say that from the vantage point of the sheep this is abundant life. The gatekeeper, the gate, the shepherd ensures they have all they need. The fold is safe, free and fed.

[Abundance = Access to enough.]

Let’s not forget that Jesus was telling this story before a crowd of Palestinian Jews in the first century. As he explained the parable to them, it became evident he was talking about more than just sheep.  They were the sheep. He was the gate. The religious elites (among others) were the thieves. He was talking about them!

And if you were a peasant living under the occupation of the Roman Empire, if you were a good Jew trying to keep up with mounting temple taxes-–how would you hear this parable? You might think Jesus is saying there is salvation from the current oppressive regimes. You might hear that you can come and go freely without fear of colliding with a tax collector or a soldier who might enlist you to go a mile carrying his luggage. You might hear there will be ample food for you and your family. That would be a good gate … an entrance into abundant living.

First mention

Before we leave the text, there is one more question I want to ask: Where have we seen abundance in the Bible before? I go back to the beginning–to the garden. The creation story bursts at the seems: “plants yielding seed, and fruit trees of every kind on earth … swarms of living creatures … sea monsters and every living creature that moves, of every kind, with which the waters swarm and every winged bird of every kind … cattle and creeping things and wild animals of the earth of every kind …”  I am out of breath with the sheer abundance from just a few days of created goodness.  Wow!

Garden

According to the story, God created a lush garden as our point of origin. He intended us to live in a place of safety, a place where we could come and go, a place with ample food and so much more! Eden is our first glimpse at what abundance looks like. And as we recall, due to our over-reach, we were banned from the garden. That gate was closed to us … until Jesus comes and says that he is the gate, implying that he is the new gate back to creation goodness, perhaps?  I think there is a hint of that in John’s gospel. Jesus is the gate back to garden goodness; back to the abundant life we were designed to live with God and all of creation.

Maybe the story nudges us to see that the abundant life is not so much about getting everything we want, but about accessing everything God intended for us from the beginning. Simply put–we, like sheep, need freedom and food for abundant life.

Viable + vibrant

When sheep live under threat from thieves–safety, freedom and food look like abundant living by comparison. When Palestinian peasants eek out a living on the underside of the economy and brutal regime–freedom and food look like abundant life by comparison. Abundance equals access to enough. When we have enough human dignity, enough freedom, enough food we actually come to see that we already live a life of abundance.

Abundance is not having more wealth and more belongings; it is having enough to live a viable and vibrant life. We can come very close to the plight of the sighted yet blind Pharisees when we look for the abundant life without realizing that we are already living it!

There are, however, many around the globe that do live under constant threat, those who lack freedom and food. Jesus came that they, too, might have abundant life. When our blindness is cured, we can see our own abundance and see those who need us to be like Jesus, a gate to the abundant life.

______________________________

Audio: Abundant Life

Click on the link above for an audio experience of Kelley’s post.

______________________________

About Kelley:

Kelley Johnson Nikondeha is co-director of Amahoro Africa and international staff member of Community of Faith with her husband Claude. She’s a thinker, connector, advocate, avid reader and mother of two beautiful children. Kelley lives between Arizona and Burundi. She loves handwritten letters, homemade pesto and anything written by Walter Brueggemann.

SheLoves Bubanza Project: Can Love Move this Mountain in Burundi?

This Valentine’s Day, we showed what true Love can do. 

LATEST UPDATE: Dear friends, this month we raised $7,212 for our sisters and brothers in Bubanza, Burundi. We are so grateful that together we can help bring visibility to this community and over 600 people can now have their own ID cards. A mountain has been moved, indeed.

UPDATE:  WE DID IT!!! 425 women in Bubanza will now get their ID documents. If you still want to donate, any overflow will go to fund the ID cards for the men of Bubanza. #Together certainly moves mountains of injustice. Thank you so much!

-idelette xoxo

Last week we launched the SheLove Bubanza Valentine’s Day project. We are gathering our strength to give 425 women in Bubanza, Burundi, the dignity of an Identity Card. Until now, these women have been invisible. Even though they have their government didn’t count them as citizens. We have raised $4,190 already–only 76 more ID cards to go! We want to give every woman in this community this basic human right. Please join us!

Want to give an ID card as a Valentine’s Day gift? Download your own card (as pdf) here and print it at home. (It looks great on cardstock!)

WANT TO KNOW HOW THIS ALL BEGAN?

Here’s the original story:

____________________________

Doing our part for our sisters in Burundi on the journey from Invisible to Belonging.

By Idelette McVicker | Twitter: @idelette

I remember the moment well: Driving up Granville Street, three kids in the back of the minivan and Scott at the wheel. I read my friend Kelley Johnson Nikondeha’s latest blogpost about her and hubby Claude’s work in Burundi on my phone:

“Another beginning.“

They were starting another brandnew, God-sized (read: faith required) project in Bubanza, Burundi. A community with over a thousand adults.

I read in the hurried pace of the car, speeding forward through Vancouver traffic to catch a ferry on that Friday afternoon. Inwardly, I was willing a quiet moment … dodging as best I could the crescendo of kidlet voices in the car and steeling myself against the atmosphere of Rush.

I willed myself to be present to the words … to catch my Kelley’s heart. I wanted to be open my own heart to the big work she and Claude devote their lives to.

She drew me in with this picture of a little Burundian girl:

And then these words:

“This week, life for this little girl is going to start changing.”

Kelley and Claude (a native Burundian) have faithfully visited Bubanza since 2008. They started with a small community project with the Batwa people and saw it flourishing through hard work, heart work, commitment and tenacity.

“But Bubanza,” she wrote ”is big and the terrain is tough. Hundreds of families, poor land, no water and no hope. Some have tried to help over the years–helping with some houses, but not enough. Offering occasional food, but only for a few days. No one stayed long. So the situation on the ground in Bubanza really did not change.”

“Hardship was the steady diet of these friends.”

Over the years, over dusty visits, telling stories and much dancing, the people of Bubanza have become Claude and Kelley’s friends. Each a person with a name and a story.

By this time in the story, we were at the corner close to an old favourite Starbucks. For some reason, I was aware of my own place on the earth and it seemed significant as I read her next sentence:

“We will start by advocating for human rights – identity cards, birth certificates and marriage licenses for hundreds of families.”

What? These people–these friends of my friends–don’t have identity cards? No birth certificates?

I’ll be honest: The tears welled up in me right then, just as they are now, in writing these words.

I sat there in the car with my robust family and my own story and these words stopped me in my tracks:

No. Identity. Cards.

Kelley explained: “As far as the world was concerned, they did not exist. With no official record of their existence they could claim no rights, no representation, no residence or real home. For all intents and purposes they were invisible … exiles in their own land living in the shadows of Burundian society.”

I understood a little of what this meant. I remembered the ache of not truly belonging.

While my place of nothing could never ever compare to theirs, that season of my life gave me a glimpse into the cold walls of powerlessness. I remembered how dependency keeps you small and how vulnerably naked it is without a piece of paper to mark your own spot on the earth.

I understood the world of difference between having the dignity of an identity card and not having that seemingly simple, yet profoundly important piece of paper.

The tears were streaming down my face and I had to catch gulps of air through the sobs. [This doesn't happen that often, so when it did, I paid attention.]

Lord, what can I do? I asked.

Lord, what do you need me to do?

Lord, what do you want us to do?

I emailed Kelley and started a conversation … a thread of a hope. What if one day we, the SheLoves Sisterhood, could come alongside these sisters in Bubanza?

It seemed distant and foggy.

But I set up camp by this thought and lifted my heart in prayer.

Then, over the next two months, life started to change for the people of Bubanza.

First, the arrival of trees.

Then, desks.

And, in early January, I read another one of Kelley’s blogposts:

“Come forward and be seen!”

The first 120 women in Bubanza were holding their identity cards in their hands. I could hardly believe it!

The team had decided to make the women’s identity cards a priority. These women were now–for the first time–recognized as residents of Bubanza and citizens of Burundi.

As I read that last post, it struck me how just fast the Spirit of God was moving to bring hope, dignity and strength to the people of Bubanza.

It swept through me too and I wanted to be a part of this God story.

I emailed Kelley that night, late into the night. I fought against the voice that said I was being impulsive, but I remembered the tears on that first day, so I hit “send” and enquired anyway:

- How many more women need identity cards? I asked.

- How much does it cost to get one identity card?

Maybe this would be too big for us, I doubted. I had no idea.

I asked anyway.

The next morning her response laid in the palm of my hands:

“There are 425 women in Bubanza awaiting identity cards at the cost of $12 each.”

Twelve dollars sounded so … doable. I quickly did the math on my phone:

1 x identity card @$12

x

425 women

____________

= $5,100

____________

Our SheLoves/LifeWomen Mama Helen Burns also caught the wind of the Spirit and said, Yes! Let’s do it!

So, this my dear SheLoves sisters, is our Valentine’s Day project for 2012–a way to show deep, meaningful and real Love to our sisters in Burundi.

- Not the hearts and chocolate kind, but the kind of Love that changes a woman’s life for good. The kind of Love that can’t help but change us as we give to others.

So, my dear friend, would you please help us in getting the word out and raise the funds to get identity cards for each and every woman in Bubanza? We’d love to do this by Valentine’s Day.

Would you join us, please, in giving towards an identity card for one woman? Five women? Ten women? A hundred women? All the women? The whole community?

As I sit with our project–and this basic human need of our friends in Bubanza–I can’t help but be reminded of this: He knows my name. He knows our names. And He knows every one of their names. And together we have an opportunity to participate in this beautiful story of Dignity and Justice.

________________________________________

About Idelette:
I like soggy cereal and I would like to go to every spot on the map of the earth to meet our world’s women.

I dream of a world where no women or girls are for sale. I dream of a world where women and men are partners in doing the work that brings down a new Heaven on earth.

My word for the year is “Roar,” but I have learned it’s not about my voice rising as much as it is about our collective voices rising in unison to bring down walls of injustice.

I have three children and this place–right here, called shelovesmagazine.com–is my fourth baby. I am African, although my skin colour doesn’t tell you that story. I am also a little bit Chinese, because my heart lives there amongst the tall skyscrapers of Taipei and the mountains of Chiufen. Give me sweet chai and I think I’m in heaven. I live in Vancouver, Canada and I pledged my heart to Scott 11 years ago.

I believe in kindness and calling out the song in each other’s hearts. I also believe that Love covers–my gaps, my mistakes and the distances between us. I blog at idelette.com and tweet@idelette.