drowning in our lies

We started church this week with this Derek Webb song. I was messing around on my phone, and this line brought me quickly to attention...

There are two great lies that I’ve heard
The day you eat of the fruit of that tree you will not surely die
And that Jesus Christ was a white, middle class Republican
And if you wanna be saved you have to learn to be like him

I felt really uncomfortable, but I think that's part of the point. Maybe we need to sing more stuff like this.

birth and death of the day

I'm playing around with NPR's music site right now, which is awesome. You know how there are certain artists and songs that when played invoke nostalgia, pain, loss, grief, hope, joy, and beauty all in the same moment?

Listening to:
Cloud Cult
The Mountain Goats
Sera Cahoone
Sufjan Stevens
Iron and Wine
Explosions of the Sky
The New Pornographers


My heart is hurting (in a good way).

From time to time, I think about being a woman. For better or for worse, I grew up in a pretty egalitarian house. Growing up, I never got the sense from my parents that anything was off limits to me as a woman. In fact, in terms of balancing power, my parents offered my sister and I a pretty equal voice in everything. This had its good and bad sides. The good side: my sister and I were taught that we had a voice and it was valuable. Our voices were meant to be used. The bad side? We were essentially treated like mini-adults and it was difficult to differentiate roles at times.

It wasn’t until I got to high school and later in college that I started to get concrete gender messages about roles, relationships and expectations that increasingly were framed in “biblical terms.” As someone who has strong spiritual and intellectual gifts – and not yet a desire to enter into motherhood – this prompted quite a bit of confusion. Ironically, I feel a lot less of this pressure living in Texas than in Seattle. I’m not exactly sure why. I have a few theories. 1) It is so assumed that it’s not really contested. 2) I don’t feel bound by the rules of the culture so I don’t feel pressure to conform 3) I’m really grounded in my own sense of calling and self as a child of God. I also think that the environment of Seattle lends itself to theological extremes.

I used to feel very threatened by different perspectives on gender and roles, but these days it hardly comes up anymore. I know where I am at, and even better, Than and I have both come to a similar place on the issue through dialogue and independently. I’ve also learned to accept and appreciate if other women and couples have chosen a different model for their own selves and relationships. Instead of starting from a place of fear and suspicion, I choose to give them the benefit of the doubt and trust that they are equally seeking to live out their vocations and God’s calling in their lives.

Some people really like and need to have definite categories and roles – I’m much more open ended and tend to have a shared perspective on roles and power. In fact, I tend to view most relationships as egalitarian; I automatically view myself as a colleague, partner, co-collaborator with those in positions of power above me and I expect that I and others will be treated as such. This probably goes back to my family structure. I know this has its weaknesses and downsides, but it has also informed my strong ethic of making sure all voices are heard and working to create dialogical space for silenced and marginalized voices within institutions.

Every now and then I realize not everyone operates under the same set of assumptions as me, especially when structures are automatically imposed on me or my voice is inherently denied. All of a sudden I realize, oh yeah, I am a woman. When a work meeting starts and I know I won’t be asked to pray -- I am a woman. When I research graduate schools and realize that 95% of the scholars I want to study under are men, I know I am a woman. When I’m asked to bring snacks to an office meeting and none of my male colleagues are asked… yep, I’m a woman.

Most of the time, I operate under the assumption of gender equality, but then I start thinking about it and these little things really add up. Why are there so fewer prominent female writers, thinkers, scholars, activists, and theologians? I can’t deny that most of my models are men. I know there are women out there doing all of these things, but they just are not given the same level of visibility. And yet I feel called to be a writer, thinker, scholar, activist, theologian.

I’m not an "ambitious career woman", I’m just trying to use the gifts God has given me and steward the passions God has placed in my heart. I’m not opposed to families and motherhood, yet I’m highly self-conscious that I will be perceived as such. I wonder how often men worry that they will be perceived this way as a result of their vocational pursuits?

confessions of a prospective graduate student

Every new step in my graduate school application journey is accompanied by a surge of fear, insecurity, and anxiety. It is such a struggle to maintain perspective and see myself clearly. Most days, I spend more time trying to cut down the tangled roots of insecurity, fear, pride, narcissism, and jealousy than actually working on my writing sample, research, and personal statements. I just wish I could feel more grounded and confident in my skills, giftings and abilities while being content to accept my limitations. But I’m a perfectionist. I want to be affirmed, and I want to be recognized. As much as I hate to admit it, I care what others think.

I’m hesitant to tell others about graduate school, and I regularly downplay my desires and ambitions. I just don’t want to seem like I am shooting too high: my dreams and desires are where I feel most vulnerable. On the other hand, learning and academia is such an important part of my sense of vocation that I feel inauthentic not sharing it with others. My greatest fear in putting myself out there through sharing, writing, and applying is that I will inaccurately judge my abilities and fall flat on my face and everyone (but me) will have seen it from miles away. After all, who am I to think that I could get an advanced degree and spend my life researching, reading, writing, and teaching?

I wish that I could rid myself of these hypercritical, overly inflated, insecurities that end up being directed towards myself or others. This is partly why I have held off on applying for so long. I am pretty sure I haven’t killed off my mean streak of perfectionism, only sent it into hiding. Going back to school might be the equivalent of an alcoholic sitting in a bar, so my strategy has been to just stay away. There is so much pain associated with my personal journey of coming to terms with my perfectionism and also my intimate knowledge of my own vulnerabilities. In the back of my mind, I can't help but worry that my old demons will return, and I will be facing another season of exhaustion, trauma, and depression.

But at the same time, I feel a growing desire to confront this fear head on, to claim my desires, and enter the unknown. I know I’m probably not ever going to get rid of my perfectionism, but I hope – and pray – that I have gained enough confidence and grounding to not only survive but thrive in graduate school, while maintaining clarity, integrity, and balance.

So, I'm engaged in a struggle right now between doubt and belief, fear and confidence, insecurity and faith. And I know from watching my husband in graduate school that it doesn't really go away. I wonder if this simply part of the vocational journey?

creative simplicity

langa township
Originally uploaded by wenchee

Langa Art Center, South Africa

One of the most awe inspiring aspects of this year has been God’s ongoing provision for us financially. Yet, with gas and food prices rising, I am starting to feel the definite pinch on our budget. It’s incredibly easy to shift into my default position of fear and anxiety and to respond with an increased desire for control. I’m constantly working to let go, relax, stop worrying about what I’m going to eat and wear, and instead let myself trust in God’s goodness and provision.

Living on a tight budget has taught me a lot and made me more conscious of the poor and vulnerable. When I start to feel powerless in light of limited funds and despite my well paying job (ok, so it’s not great, but it’s sufficiently more than minimum wage), I think about the sheer burden of poverty held by so many. Poverty is a prison. It impacts every choice and every decision. It controls movement, nutrition, health, well-being. For many, there just seems to be no escape.

In light of all this, I have been thinking about the difference between poverty and simplicity. On the surface, simplicity seems to be a lifestyle based on empowerment, while poverty seems to strip power. So, recently I have wondered, what’s the relationship between living simply and poverty? How can living simply empower the impoverished? How I can shift my perspective from one of fear, anxiety, and captivity to a life lived in trust, joy and contentment. How can I tap into my limited resources and experience the gracious space and freedom of the Spirit?

It’s so tricky. It’s difficult to explain the difference between living in a spirit of simplicity and feeling trapped by limited resources, but I can certainly feel it. Possibility replaces paralysis. Agency replaces entrapment. When I am living in simplicity and trust, a weight is lifted. I am liberated to be present and feel grateful. There is freedom to use my resources and freedom to accept my material realities/limitations without feeling burdened by them. I am empowered to create instead of consume. So, I get creative about cooking with limited ingredients. I get creative about how to serve people and gift them. I go outside and see color and beauty in creation --- a gift that is open to both rich and poor alike, though the rich often try to make it a commodity.

I believe that the Spirit of God rests with the poor and vulnerable. Anyone who has worked with the poor knows that God gifts the poor with incredible creativity and eyes to see what the privileged often miss. The Spirit’s empowerment and gifts of joy, beauty and creativity liberate the poor from the immediate shackles of daily existence. I love this subversion, and I long to capture more of this power in my life. A life of creative simplicity and trust seems to be the only effective way for me resist the imperialism of wealth, consumerism and privilege. The poor teach me that I need not be wealthy to experience God’s gracious beauty and bounty, and I do the poor a disservice when I do not appreciate and validate the good news of God’s Spirit upon them. They have so much to teach and offer.


I’m rereading Richard Foster’s Freedom of Simplicity. It is an amazing book. I can’t believe he wrote it in the 1970s! It is so relevant to our present time, although I guess more and more this decade is resembling the 1970s. Foster is quick to caution against any prescribed way of living simply. To be clear, I don’t think we should ever glamorize or elevate poverty itself nor should we reject the value of the material goods. I – like so many – desire to increase my wealth, status, and improve my well being. I don’t believe this desire is completely bad. I have hopes and dreams that require mobility and unfortunately money. Living simply, is a complex, varied, and lifelong journey and as Foster says “repudiates easy, dogmatic answers to tough intricate problems.” I wish it could be as easy as give all of your money away! I watched Into the Wild a few weeks ago, and I think this movie/story shows the danger, naivety, and tragedy of such simplistic decisiveness.

So, I’m still wrestling. But in the meantime, I’m seeking to create beauty in the desert, and I am amazed at what I’m discovering as I wait for and trust in God’s provision.

This post is dedicated to my friends:
I’m amazed and inspired by all of you who are artists – official or unofficial. You have used your gifts to give dignity to the poor by letting their lives speak and capturing their beauty and worth, whether in Tanzania, Afghanistan, Haiti, Guatemala, the streets of Seattle, Costa Rica, Kenya, or South Africa. Your commitment has taught me so much and encourages me to seek redemption right here in Texas. Thank you.

weapons of war

I am in shock right now. The Mail and Gaurdian reported yesterday that South Africa has been supplying Zimbabwe with weapons of war, including helicopters, revolvers and cartridges -- despite the mounting human rights atrocities in that country.

"Information at the Mail & Guardian’s disposal points to a cosy relationship between the defence forces of both countries, as well as government-to-government arms transfers. This appears to conflict with President Thabo Mbeki’s mediation role between the ruling Zanu-PF and the opposition MDC, which demands neutrality. "Read the full story here.

I have become increasingly frustrated and anguished with Mbeki in the last few months. If anyone had the opportunity to exert meaningful pressure on Mugabe, it was him. Instead, he remained silent. Now, it appears he was complicit in this brutal regime's terror tactics.

Shame.

I cannot understand it.

After all that South Africans endured to achieve democracy, this is what emerges.

Today, the words of a South African poet Sandile Dikeni hang in the air:

Nowadays
they don't hang you by the neck
till you die
They dangle you by the feet
till the blood comes to your brain.