ShePonders: Fasting

On Lent, fasting and what God requires of us.

“We are not able to substitute a forty-day fast for daily habits of justice.”

By Kelley Johnson-Nikondeha | Twitter: @keljnik

On the eve of Ash Wednesday, many of the faithful turn their thoughts to fasting. “What should I fast for the forty days of Lent?”  However, I imagine other questions circulating like: “What is the purpose of fasting? Does fasting even work?”

God seems to speak right into this very line of questioning in Isaiah 58. I’d like to imagine that He said these words right before a holy day or amid the preparations for a religious festival on the Jewish calendar. Right in the thick of the ritual fast, right as the people were questioning the efficacy of fasting … He spoke.

The people ask God why He does not give them His divine attention as they are fasting and sacrificing so much. And the response: “You call this a fast?  You might be denying yourself some little things but you continue to indulge in injustice by paying low wages, exploiting your workers, quarreling and getting into fist fights.”

God then outlined the kind of fast that would get His attention:

“ … to break the chains of injustice, get rid of exploitation in the workplace, free the oppressed, cancel debts.” (The Message)

He continued saying that when we share our food, our home, our clothes and our time with our neighbors, then we will have His attention.

When we participate in the work of justice–it is a holy and God-ordained enterprise. When we are advocating for land rights, refusing to purchase goods made with slave labor, securing identity cards for women at the margins and demanding better education in the ghetto, we work in tandem with God. When we engage in such work, we already have His proximity, His presence and His undivided attention. When we pay fair wages to our employees, create safe work environments, help a single mother with childcare or invite a famished friend to our table–we already have God’s attention.

God does not require a ritual fast, He asks for us to be good neighbors. We are not able to substitute a forty-day fast for daily habits of justice. So fasting does not work as a gimmick to garner God’s attention. We know that He is near to the broken-hearted and so when we draw near to them as well, we are all closer to Him as we move toward justice, abundance and goodness in the neighborhood.

But God is not done with His admonition. He tells the dissatisfied fasters that if they begin to feed the hungry and tend to the afflicted, amazing things will begin to happen around them! God promises to guide them, nourish and strengthen them. And then there is this:

“You’ll use the old rubble of past lives to build anew, rebuild the foundation from out of your past. You’ll be known as those who can fix anything, restore old ruins, rebuild, renovate, make the community livable again.” (The Message)

The image here is of a rundown neighborhood– a ghetto or slum. This broken-down place has been abandoned over the years, all those who could moved out to the suburbs where there were better schools and safer streets. Nothing works right in the ‘hood, just a tangle of people trying to get by on the crumbs of society. Sometimes they resort to violence and other vices–it is a hard place and nowhere you want to live. We drive a few extra miles in our air-conditioned cars to avoid this very place.

But when we care about neighbors and neighborhoods, we are drawn to these trouble spots.  We sit on the stoop and listen to the elderly speak, we watch the kids cut across the dilapidated playground and we see the women at the bus stop returning from the day shift.  And then we start to imagine something better for these neighbors.

We become known as “the fixers” who can come in and set things right and get things done!  We know how to take the old and repurpose it, to refurbish the run-down homes and renovate (dare we say innovate) schools.  We become those who carry God’s potential for newness into the neighborhood, transforming it into a livable community. Lives and landscapes transformed by neighborliness … this is what God had in mind all along.

And as neighborhoods are turned around, we are given new names:

“You shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in.”

God beckons us to be good neighbors, the kind of neighbors who little by little, one kindness at a time, reimagine and renovate entire neighborhoods. 

“Good neighbors, not good fasters.  This is what gets God’s attention.”

One thing that is clear in God’s comment on fasting is that He does not desire religious rituals in place of justice. He does not want fasting on holy days– but rather justice every day.  He does not want us to bring our offering to the temple if we have some unresolved matter with a friend. God wants us to be good neighbors–so justice and reconciliation always come before rituals, even before the spiritual practices of fasting and almsgiving.

I embrace the practice of fasting as a valuable spiritual discipline. I will be fasting for Lent. But I believe that fasting is about soul-shaping, not a means to get God’s attention and never a substitute for daily rhythms of neighborliness.

I want to have a new name – something along the lines of “the restorer of streets to live in.” In order to be that woman, the practice of fasting just might help me shave off some rough edges and reorient my heart. Fasting is a tool in my hand, not a gimmick or magic trick. For me, the practice of fasting will help shape me into a woman worthy of a name change!

________________________

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

• What has been your experience with fasting?
• Are you planning on a fast for Lent?
• Any other thoughts or comments?

________________________

AUDIO DOWNLOAD

Audio: ShePonders: Fasting

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

___________________________

For further reading:

• For a good introduction to the idea and practice of fasting during Lent, check out this article by my friend and former instructor, Mark Roberts: Do you have to give up something for Lent?
• Also, here’s my post from Ash Wednesday last year: I am Pleased: Thoughts on Lent, Fasting and Eschewing Religion.

_____________________________

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.

Upcoming Conferences & Events

 { for women with hearts + brains + hands + feet } 

We want to mobilize and empower women to transform our world. Therefore, every month SheLoves magazine will update our list of upcoming conferences and events for women around the globe. If you have an event or conference you think we should add, please contact us.

2012 Events, Campaigns & Conferences

Free Them: Campaign to Fight Slavery, Feb.

Here ‘s the Free Them 29 Things PDF to download: 29 Things

The Justice Conference: Feb 24+25, Portland, OR

Illuminate: Feb 24+25 (Youth) Victoria, BC, Canada

LifeWomen Conference: May 3-5, Surrey, Canada

Amahoro Gathering: May 21-25, Bujumbura, Burundi

ShePonders: Prophets

By Kelley Johnson-Nikondeha

“Prophet” is such a strong, heavy and unequivocal word in my vocabulary. But it did not begin that way.

My initial encounter with the word “prophet” was in my post-college days when I attended a Vineyard Church. People spoke of prophets as easily as they mentioned the pastor or the greeters or the janitor. Prophets were often contrasted with those gifted in mercy, implying and sometimes even saying outright that while mercy people were gentle, sensitive and touchy-feely, prophets were none of these things. A prophet saw things–about you and sometimes your future. They spoke words of personal comfort (at least the New Testament instructed them to do so); they spoke of predictions regarding the church, community and even country. They had a reputation for being brash and having sharp edges. More than once I heard it said that prophets saw in black and white.

During years steeped in this culture, I had my own personal encounters with prophets. I received many words of knowledge. These prophets claimed to know things about me or offered a God-given directive for me to follow and even spoke of grand future exploits. Some words were formative, others fell flat. Such was the way with modern prophets I surmised–even they were practicing their gift imperfectly, learning as they went.

When I entered seminary I had to engage prophets once again … but this time the robust personalities of the Old Testament. These crazed men (mostly) spoke in poetic cadence and dreamed dreams, saw visions, often acting in strange ways. They were of a different breed entirely from the prophets I knew. At first glance I wrote them off as being archaic, as outdated as the Old Testament itself. But they stayed with me and began to burrow into my psyche, those poetic verses and haunting metaphors provoking me to come closer and listen. (I must pay tribute to Biblical scholar Walter Brueggemann for offering me a proper introduction to these wild and wonderful prophets.)

And here is what I have learned about prophets–they don’t see in black and white, they see in technicolor.  Now I find it interesting that the “tech” in Technicolor was inspired by the founder’s technical training at MIT. The name of his revolutionary color process and company are an homage to inspired instruction and his own innovation in color saturation. The prophets of old are similar in this respect; they honor their inspired instruction (which comes from the Torah) and marry that with their unique innovative vision. The prophets understood deeply the words of Genesis, Exodus, Deuteronomy, Leviticus and Numbers–and that shaped what they saw and what they spoke.

Allow me to share some simple observations from years of studying these great prophets:

A prophet sees.

- A prophet can see Torah. She sees the words of God and has studied the ways of Jesus. Because these words and ways are written on her heart, she sees through them into her world.

- A prophet can see the world around her truly. She sees with clarity the good, the bad and the ugly. She sees that the dominant story of the world misleads people into elitism, racism, poverty, violence and consumerism.

- A prophet can see the margins. She sees who is there, how they got there and what keeps them on the sidelines of society.  She notices the human rights denied. She sees the invisible–who is missing from the classrooms, the hospital rooms, the voter rolls and the pews.

- A prophet can see injustice. She sees the injust structures that keep people out; the policies meant to exclude. She sees unfair trade agreements, environmental exploitation and corrupted banking systems. She sees crooked leaders and crooked laws.

- A prophet sees an alternative.  She sees another way to be in this world – a way rooted in Torah, love and justice.  She sees God’s abundance, not scarcity.  She sees humanity in her enemy and knows that forgiveness must be on offer.  She sees conflict and dreams of reconciliation, swords into plows (or tanks into tractors).

- A prophet sees newness. She sees that God is doing a new thing. God is on the move with fresh ideas and a fount of creative energy. She knows the world may be in a rut of poor choices–but God is not stuck! He is free and leading us into new freedom all the time, she has seen it!

- A prophet sees potential. She understands that the way the world is now is not set in stone. She sees potential for age-old wrongs to be set right in our day, for the brutally broken to know gentle mending, for systems of oppression to give way to unprecedented liberation, for truth to trump the lies we believe about ourselves and others.

- A prophet sees the connections. She sees the connection between her personal issues, the ones that hit closest to home, and the public practices. So her difficult pregnancy allows her to see the infant and maternal mortality rates in other countries. Her white skin and accompanying privilege help her see those in townships without access to something as simple as books. Losing her home makes her see the underside of the economic system that benefits some and exploits others. She sees the connections beyond herself, out into the larger world that God has called her to address.

- A prophet sees the colors. She sees the dark and dim for what it is. She also sees the bright and bursting hues–and all the shades in between. Seeing color means seeing life in its full spectrum.

A prophet speaks.

A prophet speaks the truth about the world as she finds it, looking through Torah-colored glasses. She speaks truth not just to power; she speaks truth to the status quo. She says that this is not the only way life can be! This is not the only way to manage your family! This is not the only way to run the world! Children don’t have to die of malaria–girls don’t have to miss out on education. Ecosystems don’t have to be trashed!

She looks at the world as it is and says it can be otherwise.

A prophet speaks about an alternative way. She tells us that there is another kingdom where justice reigns.  She says there is a better option than Caesar. She dares to say that violence is not the only way to bring peace. She tells another story and narrates a new world of possibility into existence guided by the Spirit.

A prophet speaks … wherever God leads her. She offers her voice to tell His story, she offers her voice to advocate for others (because she sees them) and proclaim good news. She speaks and allows her voice to become His–and that is what the prophets of old did when they spoke to their community. The prophets had eyes that saw, ears that heard and voices that spoke His truth into their world.

May it be so for us … women who can see, hear and speak into His world in full color and full voice!

__________________________________

My dear SheLoves sisters,

• What has been your experience with the word “prophet?”
• What stirs in you and speaks to you now?
• Any other comments or thoughts? I’d love to hear.

________________________________

Audio:  ShePonders: Prophets

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.

ShePonders: Christmas

“He, and not the Caesars of this age, is the Light of the World, the Messiah, the Savior.”

By Kelley Johnson-Nikondeha
________________________________________

Audio: ShePonders: Christmas

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

“Jesus is the reason for the season.”

Growing up in the church and a series of other concentric Christian circles over the years, this is an oft-quoted truism during this season. Jesus is the reason for Christmas; the reason we celebrate. He is the reason we carve out this holy time on our annual calendar. Christmas is about Jesus, not about lavish consumption and consumerism.

Absolutely true.

And yet … it rings incomplete for me. Jesus is the reason for what? Is He the reason for gift-giving, cookie-baking, stocking-hanging, tree-lighting and hall-decking? Is He the reason for family gatherings; the reason we give to the poor at home and abroad? While the commemoration of His advent provokes celebration and charity, I still feel the message of Christmas is a bit muddled.

What is the Christmas story really about? What did Matthew and Luke intend as they wrote down their distinctive birth narratives we now blend together seamlessly into Christmas pageants? Why did the wise men bring gifts?  Why did the angels fill the celestial amphitheatre with song? Why did the shepherds run to see the baby?  What did the words of Elizabeth, Simeon and Anna mean to the first hearers in the ancient world? What is the rhyme and reason behind these cherished stories we read our children during the 12 days of Christmas?

Poetic Genealogies

Matthew begins with a long genealogy that travels from Abraham through David and Solomon, arriving at Jesus. The lineage demonstrates that Jesus is the new Messiah, arriving on the scene at the appropriate time. Luke’s genealogy begins with Jesus tracing His line back through Nathan, David, Boaz and finally to Adam in the garden. We learn from Luke that Jesus is the new Adam. In the poetry of genealogy we learn that Jesus is Messiah, that He is our new beginning. But we discover something else as well. In the ancient world, genealogies were spun to showcase the lineage of Caesar, to make manifest that he is the Son of God descended from Heaven. Both Matthew and Luke use the rhetoric of the day to say something different–there is a new ruler and here are His credentials. These were both counter-genealogies announcing the bone fides of Jesus. He is the true Messiah, He is the true beginning of a new era … not Caesar.

Divine Conception

Next, both Matthew and Luke tell the story of the divine conception of Jesus. The Angel Gabriel had several conversations with Joseph, according to Matthew, about the nature of his wife’s pregnancy.  As Luke tells it, Gabriel spoke to Mary directly about the goodness she was gestating within.  We are told that she received these words with an open heart and, I imagine, an awareness that her life had just been set on an irreversible trajectory.

While these stories of God-breathed conception sound novel to our ears, we must re-frame our understanding. Such tales were commonplace in the days of the ancient Mediterranean. You would hear stories like this all the time–about the birth of Caesar. Everyone knew He descended from the gods and was genetically inclined to rule the empire. Now we are told there is Another on the scene … another divine Son with the capacity and mandate to reign. We learn that the birth stories have less to do with the biology of the mother and more to do with the destiny of the child–destined to rule.  Matthew and Luke tell us that Caesar has a challenger for the throne.  Jesus, the true child of God, is destined to rule the Kingdom.

Heavy Titles

Scattered within these birth narratives are many heavy titles. ”King of the Jews” was a title ascribed to Herod the Great, but applied to Jesus. ”Son of God,” “Lord,” “Savior of the world”–all used to speak exclusively of Caesar, the one who descends from the gods and saves the world. He brings the Pax Romana through victory, employing violence to suppress rivals. Included in his peace is an economic policy that rewards the elites and exploits the poor, but keeps the roads open and commerce flowing. When Matthew and Luke call Jesus the Son of God, Messiah, Savior, Lord … they are dancing on the edge of treason. But they are naming a new reality–the light of the world has come, and it is not the emperor seated in Rome, but the babe in the stable. The gospel writers are, in effect, advertizing a better Son of God. Jesus will bring peace through justice and His peace will come through non-violent means. His Kingdom will bring about prosperity for all–even those at the margins and on the underbelly of the economy–and it will have no end.

Once we read these poetic genealogies, divine conception stories loaded with heavy titles we should all be chanting:

Jesus, not Caesar! Jesus, not Caesar! Jesus, not Caesar!

What the stories of Christmas say, then and now, is that peace cannot come through Caesar. The gospel writers wanted us all to see that there is another way to govern the world–peace through justice, not violence. There is another way to administer the Kingdom–through justice, love and goodness. We have been entrusted with very subversive stories that invite us to see differently, believe differently and act differently. The way the world operates now is not the only way it can ever be. Jesus comes as a new kind of President, a different kind of Prime Minister, a better General Secretary of the United Nations and more skilled Managing Director of the International Monetary Fund … with another Way to bring about a lasting peace and an equitable economy for all.

Jesus is the reason for the season … a reason that upends the status quo of the world as we know it. He is the beginning of deep transformation the world over and the savior for all who suffer under current empires and economies. He offers another way forward, a rationale that confronts all we have come to know and believe about the way the world works.

- Jesus is the reason to rethink the status quo of our empires and economies.

- Jesus is the reason to imagine peace and prosperity without war.

- Jesus is the reason to live differently in this season and every other season–

Because He, and not the Caesars of this age, is the Light of the World, the Messiah, the Savior. This is why we sing: Glory to God in the Highest!

___________________________________

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: Merry Christmas, by The Meadowbrook blog

SheLoves: Christmas Card Project for Famine Relief in East Africa

What if we all did something?

By Daniela Schwartz | Twitter: @dannyschwartz

We were sitting at family dinner and I was trying to get my eight-year-old boy to eat his food. I heard the words leave my lips: “Owen, you should be thankful for the food you have, there are starving children in Africa.”

My husband added: “Actually, there’s a famine in East Africa.”

We explained how there’s no rain and no means to grow or raise food. That unless aid is sent, people will starve to death. I could see the concern on Owen’s face, but that is where we left it. Later that night, in bed, I was surfing on Pinterestfor home decor and my baby boy’s first birthday party ideas. Then, in the midst of looking at a sea of beautiful things, I saw this image:

REUTERS/Yannis Behrakis

The image disturbed me to my soul. Dinner with my son came to mind. I laid in bed that night thinking, Who am I? What am I really teaching my kid? Am I saying: Feel guilty … and eat your food, because that will help the people of East Africa? Am I a women of action?

Do I want to teach my kids that bad things happen and someone else will take care of it? That’s so not who I am and Owen is capable of doing something.

As that moment I was two days post running in our SheLoves Half-Marathon for Living Hope. My body was still in pain from the beating it took during the 90 days of training and I was tired, but I knew this was an opportunity to teach Owen.

I emailed the image to my friend, Idelette (the editor of SheLoves) and we began to talk about what we could do. She was also two days post half-marathon, but she had been equally moved/haunted. We also prayed and giggled a little at our gumption. (Sidenote: Isn’t “gumption” a fantastically under-used word today? )

We birthed the idea of a Christmas card project. The children would design the art; it was important to us that the children be part of this project.

The next night I was tucking Owen in and I told him about the idea. I saw the little wheels turning in his head; then his eyes lit up and he said to me: “That is actually a pretty good idea, Mom.”

[Yes, Owen, your mother is no slouch.]

He was so excited to get started and said, “Just wait! I’ll get my markers and some paper.”

Bingo!

Empowered.

The Project

We have put together a collection of ten pieces of art, created from the hearts of our children. These have been printed up as Christmas cards and we are selling these packs of cards to raise funds and awareness for the famine happening at this very moment in East Africa.

My prayer is that our children will know that no hands are too little in God’s hands.

All proceeds from this project will be donated to World Vision to support their efforts in East Africa. There are 10 million people in desperate need at this moment and we have the power to help.

Here’s what I know: We can’t do everything, but we can all do something.

Here’s my something … because I am a woman of action.
__________________________________________

Would you consider joining us in doing something, by purchasing these Christmas cards? 

• To buy online, please visit our etsy shop:

SheLoves Christmas on Etsy

• Christmas Cards are also available for sale at the Relate Church Bookstore, located at 6788 152 Street, Surrey, BC.

__________________________________________
About Daniela:
Daniela is stepping into the role of stay-at-home mom. She loves Jesus, her husband and kids and jumps feet first into opportunities to serve in her community. Daniela lives by this statement, “Preach the gospel always, use words when necessary.” She loves to live life big and laughs a lot. She blogs with her twin sister Trinity at Lime in the coconuts.

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

Avoid Paralysis, Confront the Brick

On being a woman without superpowers scaling the often paralyzing walls of Injustice.

By Stephanie Motz Skinner | Twitter: @stephmotz

Sometimes I look at the world, I witness the chaos that engulfs our everyday lives and I just want to give up. I picture myself packing my bags and catching the next ferry to the Caribbean islands of my Honduran homeland. I find the most isolated beach to work on my tan and sip on a Piña Colada while my husband fans me tirelessly with a palm leaf.

These daydreams are an escape from the realities I witness every day. On my way to work I see young children, some of them not old enough to walk, who have been taught to hold out their hands in the shape of a begging bowl and they sit at the busiest intersections gazing pitifully at those who pass them by. I hear the stories of women who were abducted as children, raped and turned into child soldiers. Or there are those who were forced into a marriage they didn’t choose because they felt they had no other opportunities.

Paralyzing

And it doesn’t matter where I am; being constantly aware of the magnitude of injustice in our world can be paralyzing. Frustration and sadness gradually mount up inside until one day I pick up the local paper and the headlines on the front page are enough to make me want to crawl back into my bed and hide under the covers.

Sometimes my thoughts spiral down to a place of pessimism and guilt. I begin to doubt things can improve. I remove myself from the circle of responsibility that we, as human beings, are a part of and I begin looking at the world as if I’m an outsider, an alien in space.

I don’t often allow myself to arrive at that place, but I have experienced that sensation of hopelessness enough times to understand that I don’t like being there.  As soon as I recognize this descent, I begin to seek the strength I need to get back on positive ground.

Here are a few of the ways I cope:

I absolve myself from any guilt I might feel because of my pessimism. I’ve convinced myself it’s natural to become overwhelmed and therefore there’s no reason for me to punish myself for it. Besides, I’ve realized that guilt can actually stop me from acting.  I think it’s OK to find myself in that place, so long as I don’t stay there too long.

I recognize my need for a break and so I distance myself for a while. I focus on more uplifting things. I surround myself with positive people and constructive opinions. To constantly hear negativity about the same issue can sometimes make me feel like we’ll never defeat that monster, so I begin to focus on people who are experiencing success.

I seek strength in God and I remind myself that it’s not about my strength and capabilities but about His strength and what God can do through us. It’s ok if I feel weak. The Bible says His grace is sufficient for us for His power is made perfect in our weakness. “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” 2 Corinthians 12-9 NIV

Finally, 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. I know there are so many others who are consistently confronting their own bricks, and as each one of us remains faithful I’m certain the walls will start to fall.

I’d love it if you had any comments:

• Do you ever feel discouraged by the magnitude of injustice in our world?
• Do you ever feel like you are losing hope?
• How do you cope with these emotions? Where do you find strength?

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

When “Almost” Doesn’t Quite Fit

On Almost Buying Skinny Jeans and Almost Going to Uganda Three Times

By Ashley Mandanici | Twitter: @ashleymandanici

“I’m OK!” I shouted frantically. “I promise!”

Beads of perspiration dripped from my brow as I felt around for the support of a wall or a bench—anything that would help me gain some stability. “Go ahead without me, I’ll catch up.” At this point my breath was getting heavy which was causing understandable concern amongst my group of friends.

And then the inevitable: THUD! My balance had failed me for the last time and I found myself wedged between two coat hangers and a pile of clothes that did not belong to me. I stood up, regained my composure and double-checked the side of the dressing room wall to be sure there wasn’t an “Ashley-shaped” hole looking out into the rest of the store.

It’s in that moment I had this rather obvious revelation: when it comes to skinny jeans, “almost” doesn’t count. Even if it almost fits, it still doesn’t.

I am thinking “almost” doesn’t count for a lot of things.

Almost on is still off.

Almost found is still lost.

Almost 19 is still 18.

Almost in the mail doesn’t pay it.

God’s Word doesn’t say much about “almosts.” There’s no story about how Noah “almost” built an ark, or how Jonah “almost” survived in the belly of a whale but died three days later. There is a lot about being complete, picking up crosses, and dying to self, but there isn’t much about “do as much as you can get away with.”

It’s at this point in the article that you’re probably thinking, “Wow, could Ashley have picked a less popular topic?” The answer is no, probably not. Nobody likes being uncomfortable, but comfort isn’t known for getting people very far. (Can I get a “holla” from all the girls running the half-marathon?)

“But God doesn’t call us to be comfortable. He calls us to trust Him so completely that we are unafraid to put ourselves in situations where we will be in trouble if He doesn’t come through.”- Francis Chan

In August I am headed to Kampala, Uganda to serve at Watoto Childcare Ministries for two weeks. I’ve “almost” gone three times now, but this time I have a ticket and I have my yellow fever vaccine. I’m going. Our team is going to be serving at Baby Watoto, teaching the kids in the village, helping with infrastructure projects and doing pretty much whatever else they need of us. I am certain that if God does not come through, I am in trouble … And it feels good.

It took a couple of well-spent hours at the mall, but I did find a pair of skinny jeans that fit completely. And it took a complete “yes” to Uganda to help me see that “almost” doesn’t count.

Question:

About Ashley:

My name is Ashley and I am the Children’s Ministry Coordinator at Relate Church in Surrey, B.C. My mission is to develop the God-given potential in every child who crosses my path *Insert Whitney Houston’s “Greatest Love of All” here*. I love all things jazzy, particularly music, and I tend to break into song throughout the day for no apparent reason. I blog here and tweet @AshleyMandanici

The Face of Dignity

An HIV+ woman, once dying, now “stands bold and tall like the Mvule trees that line the streets of Gulu town.” She’s a picture of Living Hope.

By Stephanie Motz Skinner | Twitter: @stephmotz

I am continually challenged and completely humbled by the amazing people James and I get to meet through our work. For our most recent project, a book of stories of the women of Living Hope, we’ve had the opportunity to meet many beautiful ladies who have faced great injustice, but whose lives have been restored.

One HIV + woman whose life has dramatically improved since she’s been through the program took what she learned and applied it to her life. As a result her small business is thriving, her personal relationships have improved and she now helps train other women who are in the same situation she was just a few years ago.

Before she joined Living Hope, she was marginalized and abandoned by her friends and family who were certain she had met her end. Some even seemed to be waiting for her to die, so they could claim her few possessions. They were surprised then, when instead of dying, her life gradually began to improve. She gained some weight. Her body and the wounds on her skin began to heal. She learned how to manage her finances and develop her business. She began to flourish as she started to recognize her value.

Picture of Healing

Now, people in her neighborhood who once shunned her, are knocking at her door. They are curious about the change in her life and so they ask her to tell them what has happened to her. She’s become an advisor in her neighborhood. She personifies “living hope” to those who are suffering through difficult circumstances. She was once bedridden, but now she’s been revived and so she’s eager to share her story.

She glows when she thinks of her future. She no longer imagines her destitute children standing around her coffin, mourning her death. She sees a home that she owns, vegetables sprouting from her garden and her children fulfilling their dreams. She’s been empowered; she knows she is worthy. God has a purpose for her life and she is loved.

She has a kind smile that radiates from the heart. She stands bold and tall like the Mvule trees that line the streets of Gulu town. She dances alongside her Living Hope sisters to the sound of their voices in a chorus of celebration.

Listening to these women tell their stories is a deeply moving experience. There is a real pain that lingers in the room when a certain memory is recalled. You can feel it tighten around your throat as the air you breathe in starts to dry the top of your mouth and blood rushes to your cheeks. But this feeling lasts for just a moment until that irrepressible spark returns to the eyes of the women as they contemplate their present situation. The contrast–the sudden change in the atmosphere–is dazzling.

Meeting women who have recently entered the program is a very different experience. An interview with her is like driving down a bumpy road that leads to an impasse. You soon realize unless that road is repaired you can simply drive no further. On our last trip to Gulu we conducted our interviews in a small private room at the Living Hope centre. The day was overcast and the room dull. The door and windows were open to allow the warm breeze through, but there wasn’t much we could do to make the setup not look like an interrogation room.

Long Journey

A girl walked in. The team leader introduced her and assured us she had consented to be interviewed. We learned from her that at just 17 years of age she is pregnant and working to care for her HIV+ mother who is bedridden. She seemed scared. She had a faint voice and a glassy stare fixed on the ground. No matter how much I smiled, she could not return it. The camera was intimidating and our questions stressful. She fidgeted nervously. The atmosphere was tense and painful and it felt like we needed to escape the room for a gasp of air. I felt my heart drop to my feet.

That type of interview can be overwhelming. For a moment it’s hard to believe these ladies can recover from their experiences. I feel angry and hopeless.

It’s hard to believe a woman who was raped by a rebel soldier when she was ten can be radiant when she shares her testimony. Or that a woman whose in-laws chased her and her children out of their home after her husband died, can boldly encourage others not to give up on life.

But I’ve seen the face of dignity and I know that change is possible, because God really wants the best for all of us. I believe God’s returning these women to dignity through people like the dedicated staff at the Living Hope centers in Uganda and Tina and our SheLoves friends in Vancouver who are running alongside their sisters in Africa.

I have to fix my eyes on that, because when I start seeing life through God’s lens, I don’t see impossible circumstances. I see in that scared young girl a flickering light of hope that has the potential to blaze and spread like wildfire. I look forward to seeing her again in a year. I know she’s going to be stronger, maybe even a little optimistic. I can even see her wearing a beaming smile on her face and striding confidently toward her future.

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