SheLoves Magazine

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.

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Audio: Abundant Life

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

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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:

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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

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= $5,100

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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.

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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.

Seeking the Face of Justice: Lessons from Two Former Child Soldiers

By Stephanie Motz Skinner | Twitter: @stephmotz

When we see how much injustice there is in the world, sometimes we forget that a simple act of reaching out and caring can make all the difference.

I can’t say I fully understand justice. Living in Uganda, however, as I hear firsthand the stories of people who have experienced great injustice–people who are now healing–I’m often reminded of what achieving justice looks like. I also learn that in seeking justice I don’t need to become overwhelmed.

God reminds me there’s nothing silent or static about justice. Wherever I search for the word “justice” in the Bible, I come across action. Justice is life-giving, loud and active. He also provides me with many examples on how to seek justice: speak out, reach out and give.

Seeking Justice

I learn that to seek is the desire or attempt to achieve something. I may have the desire, but if I don’t take the leap from desire to action, I’ll never “achieve” justice. Justice isn’t just the feeling in my heart. It’s the ways in which I will choose to respond to that feeling.

I’m reminded that seeking justice is a choice I continually have to make, because seeking justice, though it’s not impossible, isn’t easy. It can be uncomfortable.

It’s not easy

-Personally, I’m not very good at speaking out. I’m shy.
-Being generous is hard when I feel like I don’t have the finances.
-Reaching out requires meeting people and investing my time.

I have to be honest, sometimes I can get lazy, overwhelmed and scared. I can fail to take the leap from desire to action because it means I have to get out of my comfort zone. Therefore, I have to continue to choose to keep my heart and eyes open so I don’t fail to see injustice and take the opportunities to respond.

Lessons from Filder and Susan

Filder and Susan belong to a generation of children who were abducted by the LRA in northern Uganda and forced to live under the captivity of rebel soldiers. Many of them were forced to witness and commit unimaginable atrocities. They were robbed of their childhood and innocence. Boys were forced to become child soldiers and girls were often given away as trophy wives to rebel commanders.

Like many other abducted children, when Filder and Susan returned from captivity, their community rejected them completely. Now they are part of an initiative run by Watoto that trains and disciples this stolen generation and helps them reintegrate into their communities. They have been given the opportunity to regain control of their lives because somebody acted.

We sat at their new home on Suubi Hill, and when I asked them what was the most important thing I as an individual could do to seek justice, their answers were surprisingly simple. They said that if I care, I will stop and listen to those who are hurting around me. To Susan and Filder, former child soldiers, realizing justice begins with an interaction.

“Just talking with someone who has been through something very painful can help him or her,” Susan said. “Don’t pass and go, find out how they are doing. Talk to them, take your time to sit with them.”

Filder added: “Encourage and be faithful to one another, help them, build them up.”

I know justice is not one-dimensional. Choosing to stop, care and listen might not solve all of the world’s problems. But if it reminds one person of her worth–if one person rises up from her circumstances and starts to believe in herself again–then that simple action might just be the beginning of someone’s experience of real justice. It’s easy to think that our simple, individual acts of goodness, kindness, or love are insignificant when we see how much injustice there is in the world, but it’s exactly those simple, individual acts that, when added together, can begin to make real positive difference.

I notice that difference when I see Filder and Susan. These girls have experienced war, loss and rejection, but when you meet them, you see love, joy and a real sense of appreciation shining through them. They are healing, smiling and dreaming. They want to shine that light and share that face of justice with other women in their community. And that’s the other thing I’ve learnt about this face of justice: it doesn’t stop at that one person. It sets off a ripple.

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What are YOUR thoughts?

• What speaks to you in this post?
• When and where do you see the face of justice?
• How would you like to grow in this area?

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About Stephanie:
Stephanie is a humanitarian and portrait photographer for fakeleft.com where she shares stories of hope and dignity. She blogs at fakeleft.com/blog and tweets at @stephmotz

Freedom Starts with Me: 21 Things We Can Do Today to End Sex Trafficking

By Michelle Miller

Today is National Human Trafficking Awareness Day in the United States. Today we stand for Freedom by looking at ways we can be part of the change, starting in our own hearts.

21 things we can do today to end sex trafficking:

1. Address the brokenness in my own life.
2. Oppose the legalization (total decriminalization) of prostitution.
3. Stop viewing pornography.
4. Make lifestyle choices that don’t further global inequality.
5. Educate myself and others about human trafficking.
6. Become an abolitionist.
7. Promote gender equality and human dignity in your daily life.
8. Directly ask the men in my life if they pay for sex.
9. Give women the same opportunities as men.
10. Partner with the efforts of REED and other organizations who fight for freedom.
11. Advocate for just immigration policies and safe paths of migration.
12. Pray for the freedom of men and women affected by brothels in my city.
13. Question the norm of “sex for sale.”
14. Support the education of women and girls, especially in developing countries.
15. Protest the proliferation of the “pimp ‘n ho’” culture.
16. Seek freedom from a lifestyle of consumerism.
17. Contact my governmental representative with my concerns about trafficking and prostitution.
18. Become a foster parent.
19. Do not stigmatize prostituted women.
20. Challenge those who make sexist “jokes.”
21. Pray for healing to come in the area of trafficking and sexual exploitation.

QUESTIONS & CONVERSATION:

• What idea moves you to act today?
• Where will you start today?

About Michelle

Michelle Miller is Executive Director of REED (Resist Exploitation, Embrace Dignity). Founded in May 2005, REED stands against trafficking and sexual exploitation through outreach, advocacy and education.

Photo credit: Hong Kong street sign by Kay Chernush for the U.S. State Department.

2011: A SheLoves Odyssey

“In 2011, we were invited to get up, grow up and take our place in the Story.”

By Idelette McVicker | Twitter: @idelette

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In 2011 (depending on the accuracy of my Math), we published 317 posts. These,  plus the thousands of words, comments, shares, tweets, tears and laughs that accompanied them, framed our SheLoves Story in 2011.

“We have a pulse!”

There was a moment February this year, when Tina wrote these words on my facebook wall: “We have a pulse!” That sentence marked a moment in our SheLoves story. With every post and share after that, our pulse became stronger and more rhythmic. By May, we proclaimed the words to the Manifesto: Let Us Be Women Who Love together at LifeWomen conference and in September, we were up and (literally) running on behalf of others.

This year, we cheered Brandi-Lee on as she spearheaded an idea to gather baby formula for the poor in our city. We bought and sold Christmas cards with Daniela to give to famine relief in Africa and a whole tribe (38 women + Josh) joined with our TGIF Tina Francis, when she decided to run a half-marathon for our sisters in Northern Uganda. Together we ran, prayed, gave and eventually raised over $43,600.

It’s been a B.I.G. year.

In 2011,

-We got angry alongside Trisha Baptie at Hype and Misinformation around Human Trafficking and bought Danielle Hardy’s wall decals to aid children sold into slavery.

- We embraced a lifestyle of Downward Mobility, under the loving guidance of Kathy Escobar.

- We explored new books and waxed nostalgic over favourite old ones, with Destiny Loeve.

- We stopped going to the gym and decided to stop eating hot fudge sundaes and become hot fudge sundaes, instead:

“I wanted my life to be a story that was so riveting, so grand, so epic, you couldn’t put the book down.” –Tina Francis

 In 2011, we were invited to get up, grow up and take our place in the Story.

- We watched dictators topple with Kelley Johnson-Nikondeha as she pondered these modern-day Pharaohs and wrote:

“We are invited to be Moses–standing at the burning bush and accepting a divine summons to advocate for justice in the face of Pharaoh.”–From: ShePonders: Pharaoh, Gaddafi, Dictators and Other Bullies, by Kelley Johnson Nikondeha

- Stephanie Motz Skinner paid attention to the anger in her heart around the issue of Maternal Mortality and wrote: The Thing That Makes Me Angry Now. She quoted Sarah Styles Bessey:

“If something makes you angry–an injustice, in particular–that is as good as an engraved invitation to do something about it.”–Sarah Styles Bessey

So, in 2o11, our tribe did a lot of somethings.

-In 2011, we risked and changed the world.

In 2011, we questioned the status quo:

• TGIF: Why is Beyonce Giving Me Mixed Signals? by Tina Francis
• Four Tomatoes or a Bag of Chips? On judgments, assumptions, ideals of beauty and building my sense of self on a Rock, by Trisha Baptie
• Owning Privilege: On Jesus, privilege and a Porsche, by Trisha Baptie
• World AIDS Day: Change Begins with my Whisper, by Idelette McVicker

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In 2011, we healed a little more:

• Making a Drum: Healing and Wisdom from Metis Hands, by Kisa MacDonald

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In 2011, we learned about amazing women:

- Kamal Dhillon: Even through a Tight, Painful Jaw, Kamal is a Woman who Speaks Peace, by Idelette McVicker

- Clothes on Wheels: Making a Connection in the Community, by Christiana Walter

- MaryAnne Connor: The Woman Behind the Nighshift Story, by Christiana Walter
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-In 2011, we grew in relationship and purpose:

- 1 Corinthians 13: A Parent’s Paraphrase, by Angela Doel

- Down We Go: The Power of the Beatitudes, by Kathy Escobar

- Tales from the Trenches: On Being a “Good Enough” Mother, by Sabrina Connell

- When Friends Become Family, by Stefanie Thomas

- On Unforgiveness and Losing a Friend, by Winnie Lui

- Exposing the Myth of Balance, by Danielle Strickland

- With These Three Stones, by Amelia Englemark

- An Apology to Myself, by Natasha Files

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- In 2011, we shared stories.

- This is Rebecca: Of Love, Marriage and Mercy, by Musu Taylor-Lewis

- TGIF: On Turning 29, by Tina Francis

- On a Midnight Escape and Starting a New Life in Canada, by Njoki Mbui

- What is was like Growing up White under Apartheid: Or Why I Care about a World in Flames, by Idelette McVicker

- The Day I Discovered a Marathon Inside Me, by Ali Valdez

- My Christmas Miracle: On Friendship, Faith and Fertility, by Daniela Schwartz

- Every Woman is a Woman of Worth, by Stacy Wiebe

- A Vet for Very Small Fish: A Little Boy’s Prayer, a Tiny Fish and Fighting the Urge to Bargain with God, by Shekinah Jacob

- Enough Hair for a Ponytail, by Vera Raposo

- The Importance of Moulding my Putty, by Claire De Boer

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-In 2011, we woke up and mobilized.

• TGIF: ‘Cause I Gotta Have Faith-a-Faith-a-Faith …, by Tina Francis
• SheLoves Christmas Card Project for Famine Relief in East Africa, by Daniela Schwartz

• What One Girl and Her Decals Can Do, by Danielle Hardy
• Becoming a Woman Who Does the Necessary Things, by Brandi-Lee Doucette

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- In 2011, many of us discovered:

We have a voice.

- In 2011, we were drawn into a higher Sisterhood–learning and becoming women, sisters, friends who call out the best in each other. Women who cheer each other one. Women who propel each other forward.

A Global Tribe

When I visited Serbia in the summer, Tabitha, a new Serbian friend, translated our SheLoves Manifesto into her language. As she read it to us in a small room chockful of about 60 women, tears welled up in her eyes. The air felt so thick with possibility of what we could do and be, as women, when we live out of this vision of Love. In that moment, I knew this idea of a Sisterhood that embodies Love, transcended our geographical borders and human boundaries.

We also know it’s a Love that flows from hearts connected to a loving God.

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As this Story unfolds, here are some of the words

that helped frame our vision of Sisterhood this year:

- “Can we messiah one another–propelling each other into the larger salvation story of which we all have a part to play?” -From: ShePonders: Another Anointing, by Kelley Johnson-Nikondeha

- “Let us be Mary and Elizabeth for each other, calling out new, brave worlds in each other. “ - RELATE with Helen: Divinely Connected Women, by Helen Burns

- “This, the dark midnight times, are the hours of the mothers.”–From: The Smallest Things, by Sarah Styles Bessey

-”Let us be women who Love.

Let us be women willing to lay down our sword words, our sharp looks, our ignorant silence and towering stance and fill the earth now with extravagant Love.

Let us be women who Love.

Let us be women who make room.

Let us be women who open our arms and invite others into an honest, spacious, glorious embrace.” –From: SheLoves Manifesto: Let Us Be Women Who Love, by Idelette McVicker

- “I remind myself that nobody is in this battle alone and that the only way to break down these towering walls of injustice is to focus on the brick in front of me.”-From:  Avoid Paralysis, Confront the Brick, by Stephanie Motz Skinner

- “We must let our light shine through the cracks. Step into the light and let people see what a real God woman looks like.” From: The Women We Are, by Christina Crook

“… authentic transformational relationships cannot be built upon power or inequality.” From: Down We Go: Why Prepositions Matter, by Kathy Escobar

- “When it comes to doing our part, every drop helps.” From: Tossing Buckets, by Shelagh Hardern

- “She didn’t need to hear my words, she needed to feel my presence. And in more ways than she would ever know, I needed to feel hers.” Erin in Iraq: Learning the Language of Presence, by Erin Wilson

“I think being the change starts where I am and with those in my life.” From: Being the Change Starts at Home, by Stephanie Motz Skinner

“Sometimes we need to see our story through the eyes of someone else. A Soul-Sista can help you find the common thread running through all your stories and you can do the same for her. We all need someone checking our blind-spots, tracking our journey and keeping us on course. What makes a Soul-sista different from a Sista-friend is that she is speaking your soul’s secret alien dialect.

This is the girl that will stay up late at night to help you draw out the maps, outline your strategy and plot out your plan to take over the world.” -From: TGIF: Sista-Friend vs Soul-Sista, by Tina Francis

-“God gives sustainable strength to the powerless.” –From: ShePonders: Renewable Energy, by Kelley Johnson-Nikondeha

- “I am completely captivated by the beauty of TOGETHER–a magnificent, harmonious symphony with Jesus being the center of it all.” -From: The Beauty of Together, by Helen Burns

So:

anointing each other + being the change right where I am + doing my part  + Jesus + sisters + presence + mothering + piercing the dark hours + equality +Hope + rising + facing my bricks  + leap + rise + nurture + listen + facing our fears + harmony + pray +work + together = Sisterhood.

In 2011, we saw glimpses of a new and different world that is entirely possible.

In 2011, I believe, we became Women Who Love.

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A very big thank you to every one of you who helps to write this Story daily.

And a big thank You to the Creator of the Universe, who breathes Love into my being–and ours–

and imagined this Story even before we began.

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My dear SheLoves sisters and friends, we’d love to hear:

• What posts, comments or quotes stand out for you from this year?
• What were some of your favourite posts?

____________________________________________________

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.

World AIDS Day: Change begins with my Whisper

On vanilla Rooibos tea, making a (digital) quilt and waving my arms wildly. 

By Idelette McVicker | Twitter: @idelette

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It’s not enough for me to cry when I watch the trailer of the movie The Help. Just yesterday crocodile tears started rolling down my face again as I watched the trailer with the girls at LifeWomen. Kinda silly, I know, if you don’t know my story. But you see, the images of maids in uniforms remind me so vividly of the separate toilet in our home in Paarl, South Africa. I remember how my mom washed Flip, the gardener’s plate, spoon, fork and knife and carefully set it away under the sink for him to use again the next time he came around.

I have lived inside the pages of The Help; on a different continent, yes, and in a different time, but I know that story’s whites only pages.

Why do I keep going back to my “old story”?

Because my heart for justice was broken open in that place. I know what it’s like to be completely separated from a story happening right under my nose. I know how easy it is to live parallel to a great injustice and think I’m unaffected.

Now I know differently and this knowing colours my core.

So, there was a story to write today and I felt so tired and I’ve been silent for a while, but I knew I had to write this for this day.

World AIDS Day

That’s why I sat in my chair last night when my eyelids begged me to go to bed. I tried to freewrite my way to this story, but my pen felt like a rock in my hands and my head kept bobbing—so tired—wanting to nod off.

Finally, I made some vanilla rooibos tea and ate (another) Martha Stewart sugar cookie.

Truth is:
- It would have been easier to go to bed.

- It would have been way more comfortable to go to bed.

- It would have been fully justifiable to go to bed.

Problem was: I knew I would have to face my own heart all day today, knowing it’s December 1^st.

I also knew I would have to give account to my God for this day.

December 1st?

- Not because it’s the first day we will crack open the (fair trade—so excited!) Advent calendar.

- Not because it’s the day we might put up the tree.

- Not even because it’s one week before my eldest’s birthday, marking my own advent into motherhood.

No, it’s because on December 1^st, 1995—sixteen years ago—I parked my scooter and with notebook and helmet in hand, walked out onto the plaza at Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial in Taipei, Taiwan. 

(Imagine this picture, only on gray day with drizzling rain and hundreds of quilts covering that cemented area.)

On that wintery day in Taiwan, I came face-to-face with the AIDS Memorial Quilt. It was a project originally created by The Names Foundation in 1987 and displayed in Washington, D.C. and finally made its way to Taiwan. This quilt—with each panel about the size of a regular bedspread—was laid out on the public plaza. It was like a whole block of my neighbourhood covered in fabric squares with stories, memories and photographs of loved ones lost to AIDS.

Soft music played over the loudspeakers and I remember walking from one panel to the next, reading message after message.

That year, December 1st became permanently marked on the calendar of my heart.

That dreary day, I read every panel.

I talked to people.

I cried quietly.

I took pictures.

From that day on, I knew AIDS was a place where I had to go stand, sometimes waving madly, so others would take notice; other times just weeping softly because this thing is so big.

In the years since:

- I interviewed Hansen Wu, an AIDS advocate in Taiwan who himself was HIV+ and had lost a loved one to AIDS. We sat in a small tea shop in Taipei and talked T-cells, dignity, human rights and faith.

- I became a fan of Stephen Lewis.

- Then I became an even bigger fan of Stephen Lewis’ Grandmothers Campaign–or GoGo Grannies where grandmothers in North America partner with grandmothers in Africa to give strength and support, so these African granny-heroes may care for the AIDS orphans.

- At last year’s Amahoro conference, I met the beautiful Musa Njoko, a woman who lives with HIV and was literally the first woman in South Africa who shared her story publically. Now she lives her (sometimes very difficult) life to sing and be a testimony to God’s goodness.

- Also in Kenya, I visited an HIV test center run by City Harvest Church and drank sweet tea with women like Becky and Ebby who volunteer their lives to test every person who walks through the door, so others in their community may be safe. This is their heart for God and in their community, where persons with HIV are often shunned, it speaks loudly.

My most honest statement today, however, would be that I haven’t held AIDS close this year. I have been distracted by the many other big things out there.

Then, yesterday, Annie Lennox emailed me.

Ok, she emailed every ONE.org subscriber with an invitation to participate in the (2015) Quilt project.

Quilt? 

Of course I clicked. I read the email, then clicked on the link. Click-click-drag-click and boom! I created a panel for this digital quilt. I just did something. Added my voice. Wrote a pledge. It took about five minutes.

As I read around the site, I realized something: the new AIDS math is astounding me. In a good way!

Current status: 1,000 babies are born with HIV every day.

Prediction: By 2015, that number can be nearly zero.

HOW? By giving 1.4 million pregnant mothers access to treatment that costs 40 cents a day.

The strategy is brilliant: ONE.org is honing in on stopping AIDS where it gets transmitted from mothers to babies. By 2015.

Somehow the numbers didn’t seem eyes-glazing-over overwhelmingly big. Suddenly this HUGE mountain seems kind of movable, with every one of us doing our something. (*Waving arms wildly here.*)

So, today I lift up my ONE voice to this mountain.

Honestly, 16 years ago I couldn’t have imagined reading the words “AIDS” and “end” in the same sentence in my lifetime. But this World AIDS Day, I pledge to stand in that exact possibility—that one day we could live in a world without AIDS.

Here’s what we can do today–simple things that eventually will tip the scale if we all do it:

• Read the facts.
• Make a quilt.
• Write a pledge.
• Buy something (RED).
• And please, let’s stand in this possibility of a world without AIDS today. That’s the place where I’m lifting my prayers up from today onwards.

The possibility still blows my mind a little … #faith #faith #faith

But, I am all for the beginning of the end of this one.

“It can be done.” –ONE.org

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My dear SheLoves sisters, friends and partners-in-change, I’d love to hear:

• When did you first come face-to-face with the story of AIDS?
• How will you honour this day today?
• If you make a pledge or create a quilt, please share it with me. I’d LOVE to see it.

_____________________________________________________

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.

The Thing that Makes Me Angry Now

“If something makes you angry–an injustice, in particular–that is as good as an engraved invitation to do something about it.”–Sarah Bessey

By Stephanie Motz Skinner | Twitter: @stephmotz

“I don’t believe that we will make progress on HIV/AIDS without addressing maternal mortality. We will not make the progress we want on malaria without addressing maternal mortality. We will not make progress on getting more children to school without reducing maternal mortality. When a mother survives, a lot survives with her.” – Sarah Brown

There’s a chapter in Half the Sky, the best-selling book by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn that tells the tragic story of Prudence, a young woman from Cameroon.

When Prudence went into labor in her village, a traditional birth attendant assisted her, but after three difficult days she still had not given birth. In a desperate attempt to force the child out, the woman sat on Prudence’s stomach and began to jump up and down. Prudence’s uterus ruptured.

Only then was Prudence taken to the hospital where the doctor asked the family for $100 to perform a cesarean. Her family only had $20, so Prudence remained untreated for another three days, her dead baby decaying inside her.

Kristof tells of how he personally paid the remainder of the money needed for the operation but the doctor decided it could wait another day. By the time Prudence was rolled into the operating theatre, it was too late. Her abdomen was severely infected and she fell into a coma. Three days later she died.

“That’s what happens, somewhere in the world, once every minute,” the story concludes.

Close to home

Not long after that I read about a Ugandan schoolteacher who died along with her unborn child, while her husband desperately tried to find the money to pay for the operation she needed. He frantically rushed around town trying to sell the title deeds to his land while his wife lay bleeding and without any help in one of the country’s main hospitals. Instead of celebrating one of life’s greatest gifts, he mourned an incomprehensible and senseless loss.

I’ve never had a child and so my ideas about giving birth have been shaped by what other women have told me about their experiences. And yet, even with my hyperactive imagination, the kinds of things that happened to Prudence were not what I envisioned around childbirth.

Yes, the thought of giving birth makes me shudder and I think it’s one of the bravest things a woman will ever do, but even through the misty gaze of my fears, I still see childbirth as something profoundly beautiful–a celebration.

Maybe I have been blinded by the safety of my privilege. I imagine that when I bring my children into the world I’ll find myself in a safe environment attended to by a midwife or a nurse who will help me with competence and care. And I believe no woman should expect any less.

But recently I have been learning that, for many women, giving birth is deadly. Their experience is defined by the hefty price that childbirth claims when they don’t have access to adequate care.

According to the United Nations Population Fund (UNPFA) 350,000 women die every year from complications during childbirth. That’s almost the same number of people who live in cities like New Orleans, Florence or Surrey.

But what upsets me the most is that 90 percent of these deaths are preventable. Simple yet critical interventions can help reduce maternal mortality rates.

In developing countries, maternal mortality has been attributed to a series of delays. Women can be slow to seek medical care when they are not aware of the dangers of childbirth. Care is often difficult to access. When they finally arrive at hospitals or clinics, they often find medical attendants who are overworked, unmotivated or simply do not have the resources to do their jobs.

Credit: Tadej Znidarcic for The New York Times. Click on the image to view the whole slideshow: In Uganda, a Failure to Deliver..

In Uganda, as must be the case in much of the developing world, many health care centers don’t even have the most basic supplies, like gloves or surgical knives.

According to the news agency IRIN, Uganda’s largest state-owned hospital has only five health care workers in the maternity ward that attend to 60 births each day. The situation is much worse in rural areas where there are no health facilities.

As Kirstof and WuDunn emphasize in Half the Sky, neglect for maternal health is a human rights issue and in many countries a gender-based one. They note that there’s a strong correlation between countries where women are marginalized and those with high maternal mortality rates.

We are told that women are important for development. Many organizations are urging the world to keep girls in school. We often hear that women tend to invest more in their families. And yet, of all the Millennium Development Goals, efforts to reduce maternal mortality and achieve universal access to reproductive health have made the least progress.

The good news is that there are many people who are already providing solutions. Organizations like International Midwife Assistance (IMA) have recognized that one of the ways to reduce maternal mortality rates is to train more midwives.

IMA works in Soroti, a rural area in eastern Uganda, where they provide free transportation to pregnant women when they need to go to their local clinic. They also run a mobile outreach clinic for remote areas of the community where they teach mothers about childbirth and family planning as well as offer them prenatal care. And they train local practitioners to empower them to provide quality prenatal and birth services.

This solution alone will not reduce maternal mortality rates. Governments in developing countries need to commit to funding maternal heath projects. Access needs to be improved through infrastructure and transportation. And women need to know about the complications of childbirth so they don’t delay seeking care.

I know there’s so much more for me to learn, but I was inspired by Sarah, a.k.a. Emerging Mummy, last week when she wrote, “If something makes you angry–an injustice, in particular–that is as good as an engraved invitation to do something about it.”  So I decided I couldn’t hush this reality. Perhaps we all need to hear more about it. Ultimately reducing maternal mortality rates is about keeping mothers alive.

And I can’t imagine what my world would have been like without my mother.

My dear SheLoves sisters, will you join me in spreading the word? 

I wonder:

• Have you read Half the Sky? What were your thoughts after reading it, especially the story of Prudence?
• What makes you angry?

About Stephanie:
Stephanie is a humanitarian and portrait photographer for fakeleft.com where she shares stories of hope and dignity. She blogs at fakeleft.com/blog and tweets at @stephmotz

ShePonders: Pharaoh, Gaddafi, Dictators and Other Bullies

“We are invited to be Moses–standing at the burning bush and accepting a divine summons to advocate for justice in the face of Pharaoh.”
By Kelley Johnson-Nikondeha

<<<Pharaoh>>>

Click on the link above to Listen to Kelley, sharing this month’s ShePonders: Pharaoh

When we first encounter Pharaoh, he is ruling over Egypt. He is powerful. But we learn he’s also a bit fearful; he has many sleepless nights and bad dreams. With the help of a Hebrew named Joseph, Pharaoh secures all the livestock, land and labor for the economic engine of the empire. He becomes a harsh taskmaster, exploiting those who are already exhausted and endangered.

We witness Pharaoh’s interactions with Moses and see that he is, indeed, hard-hearted. Despite God’s demand, Pharaoh will not let the people go. Pharaoh sought to oppress, control and monopolize everything and everyone–even the God of the Hebrews.

In today’s vernacular my son would call him a bully; on the world’s stage he would be described as a dictator.

The other day I saw the breaking news: Gaddafi had been captured. He is dead. I saw the graphic photos of his bloodied face, his listless body on the back of a pick-up truck. Then he was laid in a meatlocker alongside his son (like a scene out of the Old Testament), so the people could come close and testify to his ultimate dead end. Now he is buried in an undisclosed location under the sands of Libya.

He really is gone.

I confess I was somewhat fixated on these images. I was glad he was finally gone, yes, but I was not celebrating his death per se, but his defeat was satisfying to something deep in my soul. It took a few days for me to find the language for it, but I think I have it now.

Gaddafi was another Pharaoh.  He was another in a long string of modern Pharaohs–Hosni Mubarak, Saddam Hussein, Pol Pot, Idi Amin, Ferdinand Marcos … And like all of them, he has been toppled. These oppressive regimes lasted too long on earth. These men took what was not theirs-–livestock, land, labor and lives. They trampled on human dignity, behaving as animals–a certain affront to God, who still cries out, “Let my people go!” But they shared in Pharaoh’s hard-heartedness and would not offer mercy or release, and they met their ultimate end.

TIME magazine’s TOP 15 Toppled Dictators

Our God still hears the cries of the oppressed the world over. God continues to act in liberating ways, bringing freedom, justice and deliverance from Pharaoh. God’s campaign against Pharaoh is alive and well. He demonstrates that He and His Kingdom are the alternative to life under such a regime, and He says “No” to all Pharaoh stands for.

But it is not just Pharaoh or those like him–there are also pharaonic forces at work in the world.  Paul called them “principalities and powers.” Any force that oppresses and exploits. Any force that runs contrary to God’s agenda of liberation and love is yet another manifestation of Pharaoh. Think: slavery, greed, consumerism, scarcity, violence … all are pharaonic forces that invade not only countries but the territory of our own hearts.

Symbol of Oppression

And this is how the Bible works with these powerful symbols. It is Pharaoh, but also more than just one singular Egyptian ruler in an ancient narrative. Pharaoh becomes a symbol for any oppression at work in the world, so that every instance of an oppression-liberation event is a new dealing with Pharaoh.  We continue to enact the Biblical story. We are invited to be Moses–standing at the burning bush and accepting a divine summons to advocate for justice in the face of Pharaoh. We are called to be freedom-givers, ones sensitive to local and global, personal and public crises, ones who put God’s loving power into play.

Staring at the horrific picture of Moammar Gaddafi’s end triggered something inside of me. Looking at him reminded me of all the other dictators who fell. I witnessed the truth that all oppressive regimes do crumble. No tyrant reigns forever. Pharaoh always meets his ultimate end.

I was not celebrating the death of Gaddafi, but rather the dethronement of Pharaoh. My satisfaction was rooted in seeing another Pharaoh dethroned and defeated. It made me think of the others I want to see gone and the other paraonic forces I want to dethrone in my own life and lifetime. This picture of dethronement gave me hope that other Pharaohs can be deposed and that liberation still comes.

Jubilation

When Pharaoh is dethroned, jubilation breaks out like dancing across the Red Sea, like celebrating in Tahrir Square, like fireworks over Libya. And each dethronement is an enthronement of our God who reigns with justice, goodness and love.

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.

Image credit: Many hands, by Julia Freeman-Woolpert

Because of a Little Love: The Story of Beatrice and Agnes

Beatrice needed more than facial reconstructive surgery. She needed Agnes to remind her she is loved.

By Stephanie Motz Skinner | Twitter: @stephmotz

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©Fakeleft. Quote by Mother Teresa.

I am thinking about loneliness this week. Mother Teresa, a woman who witnessed extreme poverty and disease, believed that being unloved, rejected and lonely is a form of poverty.

She said: “We can cure physical diseases with medicine, but the only cure for loneliness, despair, and hopelessness is love. There are many in the world who are dying for a piece of bread but there are many more dying for a little love.”

A Little Love

When James and I heard of the opportunity to film a girl who had just undergone reconstructive surgery we jumped at the opportunity. It was the last footage we needed to complete the production of a short video for Living Hope that we’ve been working on and we were eager to begin piecing the final story together.

So we set off early one morning with a Living Hope team leader. She informed us that the girl we were filming would be returning to her home in Gulu soon. We were excited for her because we figured she was probably anxious to return to her family.

Meet Beatrice

To protect her identity, I’ll call her Beatrice. Beatrice is about fifteen years old. She had undergone two surgical procedures in a week and was recovering at a Watoto village near Kampala. A cheerful and loving Living Hope graduate named Agnes was caring for her. She had been trained to nurse reconstructive surgery patients after their operation and had spent a week nursing Beatrice. When we met them you could tell they had become increasingly attached to each other. Agnes would hug Beatrice and fix the scarf around her neck. She would wipe Beatrice’s chin when spittle would trickle from her healing lips.

The stitches around her lips made it difficult for Beatrice to speak, so Agnes shared with us the details of Beatrice’ story. Beatrice had not experienced war injuries but she had been born with a cleft lip and palate and this had profoundly damaged her quality of life.

Reassurance

As Agnes spoke, Beatrice stared blankly at the ground. She seemed shy and even a little scared. Agnes pulled her close. She caressed her head and whispered a few words to her in Acholi, their local language. Beatrice smiled and appeared reassured.

After listening to her story, we explained the purpose of the video we were working on. We pulled out the reflectors, set up the tripod, opened some windows and began directing.

As we filmed, the Living Hope team leader and Agnes spoke to Beatrice making her feel at ease. But after a few minutes of shooting, she suddenly began to cry. We immediately stopped. We thought maybe we had approached her insensitively and briefing her had not been enough. Maybe she needed a little encouragement. I immediately asked the team leader to translate for me, but after a few minutes the team leader interrupted me to tell me that we weren’t the reason she was crying.

Phew, I thought at first. But then she explained that Beatrice was crying, because while we were shooting, she was told she would soon be returning home and this was harrowing news to her.

Going Home

Beatrice’s community associated her birth deformity with witchcraft. So when she was born, her mother gave her the Acholi name for “the cursed one.” Her mother abandoned her when she was young and her grandmother who is raising her, mistreats her. Even though she goes to school and has a home to sleep in, Beatrice didn’t grow up experiencing kindness and care.

And yet she seemed like such an innocent child. She had a shy smile and a sweet and gentle demeanor. For the last week Agnes had treated Beatrice like a daughter. She didn’t just nurse her wounds, she nurtured her heart.

Later that day Beatrice was transported to a recuperation center in Gulu and I thought I’d never see her again. But a week later James and I traveled to Gulu and while we were there, we visited the Living Hope recuperation center where women recover from their reconstructive surgeries or are prepared for their upcoming procedures.

Flourishing

As we pulled into the driveway and parked our car, we spotted Beatrice. When she recognized us, she sprinted towards us. And as soon as I was out of the car, she gave me a huge hug, her healing lips quivering as she tried to contain her smile. It was as if her experience with Agnes had unlocked something inside her and this was allowing her to flourish. I like to believe that the care and love she experienced will give her the hope she needs to persevere through difficult times. I can’t be certain what is going to happen to Beatrice, but my brief encounter with her has reminded me that sometimes the simplest, most uncomplicated acts of love and service–the type that Agnes demonstrated towards Beatrice by simply being there for her and treating her with dignity–can bring healing to people in ways that can surprise us.

I know a person can’t subsist solely on love, but love feeds hearts and helps people flourish. Love and acceptance can help a person conquer her fears and reach her potential.

We all experience pain, but there are so many people in this world who are hurting alone. There are people out there who are seldom noticed and are isolated from their community. As I was thinking about Beatrice and many others like her, this documentary, A Way Out, came to mind:

A Way Out – documentary (2010) from Noora Shalaby on Vimeo.

I am reminded of the impact Love has on a person and how we should never take an encouraging word, a squeeze of the hand or an embrace for granted.
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So, beautiful SheLoves friends, what are your thoughts?

• What speaks to you in this post?
• Have you experienced or witnessed the impact that a simple act of love can have on a person?

____________________________________________________________

About Stephanie:
Stephanie is a humanitarian and portrait photographer for fakeleft.com where she shares stories of hope and dignity. She blogs at fakeleft.com/blog and tweets at @stephmotz

Excessive Generosity & Other Stuff

On tricycles, following a radical Jesus and the UFC of fighting greed.

By Danielle Strickland | Twitter: @djstrickland

Occasionally I feel like I’m in an episode of Hoarders. You know, the show that reveals the apartments and houses of people who just keep collecting things and won’t throw anything away. I know of several people who sleep on their couches because their beds are completely stacked full of boxes and files and books and instruments and well, other junk, and it means they can’t get into their bedrooms any more. Some suggest that this is an actual mental disorder. I’d suggest it’s just an extreme version of what most of us suffer from–greed.

Now greed is a bit tricky, because most of us have been convinced that it’s measured by how MUCH stuff we have. Now, even if we are living on the minimum wage–or if we are on a government subsidy in any Western, developed country we are still in the top ten percent of the wealthiest people on the planet. I’m not kidding-–check out your own status here: globalrichlist.com

Two-thirds of the world live a whole year on the money we spend weekly on munchies–but that’s just it. It doesn’t mean we are greedy just because we are rich, does it?

What does greed look like?

My friend was a missionary for a few years in a pretty poor country. On the compound where she lived were several families. Some of them were from that country and some were from Western countries. One of the young little boys, Johnny (name changed) received a gift from his home country (a tricycle) and he was so excited that he was riding it around the compound all morning. His friend had never seen a tricycle before and was running around after him, enjoying the excitement of it all. Eventually, as Johnny got tired of riding, his friend asked him, ‘Can I try?’ At this question Johnny got very mad and said “No” and wouldn’t get off the tricycle. Quickly distracted, the little bike rider saw the swings close by and realized he felt like doing something different. But because he didn’t want to share his new bike he got off of it and picked it up in his little arms and carried it over to the swing set. He was not going to share that bike!

Greed looks like that … a staunch refusal to share.

If we are honest with ourselves, we are a lot like that little boy with his silly bike. We close our hands around whatever we can get and we don’t let anyone else have it. Actually, we have been taught to do this. A whole generation has been convinced by mass media campaigns, that without “stuff” that belongs to “us” we are empty and dissatisfied. You can watch a great video about this conspiracy of marketing and consumerism here.

Of course, we know the exact opposite is true–we can live our whole lives with everything we want (stuff) and be just as empty and lonely and lost as with a few dollars a day.

Another real problem with greed is that it grows.

Mother Teresa was once questioned by a skeptic reported who said to her, How can you believe in a God who allows people to go hungry? to which she replied, “Don’t you go blaming poverty on God. Poverty exists in the world simply because God’s children refuse to share.” Ouch.

So, how can we fight greed?

Jesus helps us out here. He lives a life that is radically different than the status quo. Greed isn’t a new idea–it’s an old one. Actually, it’s greed that caused Adam and Eve to want what they couldn’t have and then blame each other! Greed has caused war, famines, dictatorships and countless casualties of crime. So, Jesus always attacked greed with excessive generosity. Even salvation is generous–he made it free for anyone who would receive it. Jesus took what originally belonged to the Jews’ (the message of the Messiah) and shared it with the entire world. He lived what I call an open-handed life. He was free.

Ever since I began to see the posture Jesus assumed–the way He lived His life open-handed, I’ve been trying to live like Him. It’s hard, but it’s fun. It wasn’t that Jesus didn’t receive–even as a young baby He received extravagant gifts. It wasn’t that Jesus didn’t have any money (He had appointed a disciple just to look after the cash). It’s that Jesus wasn’t owned by his money, gifts, status, successes. Freely He received, freely He gave. This is an open-handed posture.

Why don’t we live more like that?

Jesus instructs his disciples to make this the posture of their whole lives, “Freely you’ve received, now freely give.” (Matthew 10:8) Once the disciples catch this radical idea of living open-handed in a closed fist world … it’s amazing what happens. Thousands of people get saved in one day. Miraculous prison breaks, people are healed, saved, set free. There are dead people raised up. People started to live together to share resources. The scriptures tell us that the first disciples so caught this message that in their community no one was in need. Acts 4:32-35, which by the way, was the miraculous sign for the Israelites in the desert in Exodus 16:18: “the one who gathered much did not have too much, and the one who gathered little did not have too little. Everyone had gathered just as much as they needed). Wow. They solved poverty by learning to live with an open hand. Freely they received, now freely they gave. It’s a radical way to live–and it’s like the UFC of greed fighting. It’s a full assault on the spirit of greed that seeks to bind up our generation. I’m so ready for radical generosity as a lifestyle.

Ownership

When my son was a little boy we went to visit some friends who had already spent some years learning to live a different way. They shared their home with others and they opened their house for community meals, sharing their food and their family fun nights with people who didn’t have either food or family. It was an exciting way to live. Our kids were playing in the toy room and we soon heard a fight break out with the descriptive words, “It’s MINE!”

That’s the first way we fight–greed. My friend Aaron rushed into the room and said to his eldest son, “Whose toy is that again?” and his eldest son looked at his dad and said, “It’s Jesus’ toy.”

“That’s right,” said Aaron, “and Jesus let you play with it right?”

“Yes,” said his young boy.

“So do you think Jesus would mind if you gave it to your friend to play with now?”

“Ok.”

Problem solved.

And if we think a little harder about this exchange, it’s actually revolutionary. See, the root problem of greed is about ownership. We think because we bought something or were given something, that it belongs to us. What we forget is an essential Kingdom principle: Everything belongs to God. He shares the entire resources of the earth with His people. How rude of us to take what is freely given and store it away and hoard it for ourselves. And not only is it rude, but it’s also rotten. Like the Hoarders episodes where most of us are horrified by the way people explicitly collect things at the expense of living their own lives–seeing how literally their quality of life is extremely diminished as a result of their closed-handedness–we look at them and shake our heads and go on living the same way ourselves. Our greed might be dressed a bit nicer and easier to look at, but how often we still invest our lives in the things that don’t even matter.

About Danielle
Danielle serves Jesus as the Corps Officer of Crossroads Community in Edmonton, Canada. Her passion is social justice, including establishing human trafficking response teams in local situations and giving leadership to the global team for the Stop The Traffik campaign. Danielle speaks and teaches around the world and has written several books: Just Imagine: the social justice agenda, Challenging Evil, and newly released this year, The Liberating Truth: How Jesus Empowers Women. Danielle is married and has two sons.