haitian rice & beans ~ diri ak pwa

INGREDIENTS:

Dry red beans

1 - 12 to 15 ounce can coconut milk
(Geronne uses FRESH coconut shredded then wrings out the juice by hand)

Parsley bunch

2 garlic clove

1 green onion stalk (using only bottom 4 inches of the white root)

Oil - (use more than suggested below for moister rice)

1 cube of chicken or veggie bouillon  (in Haiti they use more than 1 cube)

2.5 cups white rice

salt

(Depending on what bean you choose you might need to presoak your beans or add to the cooking time. **Read comments on this post - most people are finding more water/liquid is needed and more time to cook beans.)

Take a bundle of curly parsley and tie it together with a string so that the bunch is tied together.  this will enventually go into the pot of water for flavor.

Boil 4 cups of water in a large medium size soup pot

After boiling, add 1 very heaping cup of washed uncooked red beans

Continue boiling for 45+ minutes (until all beans are almost soft)

When beans are almost tender 1 can of coconut milk

And bundle of tied parsley

Finish boiling until tender

Strain the beans, but make sure to keep both the water/cocunut mixture as well as beans

in a mortar & pestal, crush garlic & green onion (bottom 4inches of green onion stalk with root removed)

In the original pot (which should now be empty of beans and water/cocunut mixture), bring heat back up to Medium High.

Add 2 or 3 tbs of oil.  When hot, add the garlic/onion mixture

Cool until browned.

Add beans & parsley bunch back to pot. Stir once.

Add water/cocunut mixture to pot.

Add 1 ts salt and bouillon cube.

Turn to high heat, cover, and bring to a boil.

When boils take lid off.

Only stir once. Then continue boiling while adding 2.5 cups of rice.

Keep stirring while heating up. 

Take out parsley.

Keep boiling on high so water boils down

After 15 minutes, move rice around a bit to take water to the bottom of pan, around the rice.

When most water seems gone, stir again, put on lid, and turn heat to Low.

Leave untouched 20 minutes

Done.

This recipe brought to you compliments of Geronne A., the maker of the very best batch of rice and beans available on this beautiful island - and possibly in the whole world.

See comments on this post for feedback from those that have tried it.

Geronne & Isaac

election day (blues)

No, not really election day blues ... 

This is Lydia every time something is less than 110% perfect. 

So, like always. 

Happy voting day America - 50ish% of you may feel like Lydia soon.

A man may have to die for our country:

but no man must, in any exclusive sense, live for his country.

He who surrenders himself without reservation

to the temporal claims of a nation, a party, or a class

is rendering to Caesar that which, of all things,

most emphatically belongs to God: himself."

~CS Lewis~

linking you on election day

GO HERE for full post at A Deeper Story -by Suzannah Paul

Sometimes we cheer the good guy.

Sometimes we nail him to a tree.

Sometime we shine light on darkness.

Sometimes we strip off our clothes and roll in it.

Jesus was offensive, certainly, to status quo, power, and decorum. He ate with outcasts and welcomed sinners. He esteemed women and children. He touched lepers. He healed on the Sabbath. He preached good news to the poor. He identified with prisoners. He claimed to be God. He washed his friends’ feet. He forgave sins and enemies. He gave his body as food and his blood as drink. He reinterpreted scripture and fulfilled it. He was executed by the state as a criminal. He rose from the dead.

But offensiveness itself is not a great indicator of being on the right path. Being offensive is not a fruit of the Spirit. They won’t know we are Christians ’cause we’re dicks. That’s not how the song goes.

Jesus humbled himself to the point of death, but his Way leads to Life. He exalted the humble and loved us all, even those who disagreed, betrayed, and had him killed.

The Truth can be offensive. Like the cross. Like love.

Like Jesus.

dis·e·quil·i·brat·ing

I've often written about the struggle we engage in while we live between two worlds, two realities, two countries. The struggle to rectify: rich vs. poor, feasting vs.fasting, such abundance and such shocking scarcity; and determining how we are to graciously live within the tension - is ongoing. 

We (as americans) come from a culture that says we need a lot - in fact, we need everything, we need newer, brand-name, bigger, and better. It goes unnoticed by most. When I speak of it, I am often met by a blank stare. "What do you mean our culture pushes us further into materialism?" It required being removed physically by living in another culture in order for the problem to become so glaringly obvious.


At home in Port au Prince I just don't care much about clothing, cars, concerts or home-decorating. I feel content and I never have an afternoon where I just  "feel like shopping". I might crave some special favorite food but I don't ever wish I could go browse the aisles for a new vase or furniture, or a new outfit or pair of shoes. When I'm in Haiti I don't struggle against those cultural pressures - the lies that lead me to believe that my wants are actually needs. 

I only know that I don't enter Target for six months at a stretch and I never feel like I'm missing out on a single thing.  Then, I arrive in America, enter Target, and suddenly I'm desperately lacking a lot of stuff. 

I can hardly look around at my neighbors and feel that *we* need more. How could I?  

In multiple ways I am more comfortable being removed from the American culture and its shopping and restaurants and entertainment ... Because when confronted with it - I want to engage it far too frequently.

What do we need? What do we want? How can we do better at keeping the wants from moving to the needs column in our minds? I don't want to buy the lies. I don't truly need most of what I own.I am uncomfortable with my own bent toward materialism and how easily it changes based simply on my location. 

I'm grateful to have been given an opportunity to engage in this struggle. There are things for me to learn and I am thankful to be learning. I want to know what perfect balance looks like and I want the perfect balance to come easily, even naturally.

For now, perfect balance eludes us and it's quite disequilibrating. 

(above originally a 2007 post, edited and republished) 

~    ~    ~    ~    ~ 

Related:  
a post about an "Eat Down" in 2010 - 

This weekend we put off going to the grocery store no less than five times. This forced us to the point of serving a different meal for every person on Sunday.  I knew it was bad when Isaac came into our room Saturday morning and said, "Can you put syrup on those sandwich buns?" Then on Sunday he returned asking, "If I have that leftover taco meat for breakfast would that okay?"  Taco meat for breakfast?  Sure. Why not?  I get really weird when there is no food in the house; like I get some twisted enjoyment out of proving that it is possible to make a meal out of a can of refried beans, some mayo, one sleeve of saltines and three nearly rotten apples. 

It is called an "eat-down" and it is a thing, a real thing.  It means that you take inventory of your gluttonous ways and truly look at the food you still have in your pantry.  Who says a can of corn is not a meal? Throw a pickle and a black olive on top and it is a colorful culinary vegan masterpiece.

The real trouble occurs when Troy starts to feel he is not properly providing for his family because the cupboards and refrigerator are bare.  He feels safest when there is a two month supply of the staple items.  Oddly enough it caused issues when we first got married because I prefer to scrounge for food and feel superior over not needing to have a big stash and he prefers to have a freezer full and feels smart, safe, and ready for anything. (Earthquakes!)  He used to grocery shop occasionally in those early years and I would be annoyed at his massive stock-piling.  I did not even know why I was mad. Meanwhile, he thought I was an idiot for going to the store and only getting enough for five or six days. We finally figured it out about five years in, so now we enjoy mocking each other like all loving married people do. 

Lessons from the Eat Down found HERE.  

Happy Saturday

Happy 6th Birthday Phoebe

The year between five and six you:

• Came out of your shell.
• Loved riding your plastic bike in the summer.
• Enjoyed playing dolls and making clothes for them out of rags and ponytail-holders. (lots of strapless designs by Phoebe!)
• Started five-day a week Kindergarten. 
• Learned to write.
• Learned to read!
• Learned to give a short speech. (cutest thing ever)
• Loved a stuffed lion very much, took it many places.
• Grew from a size 12 shoe to a size 1 shoe  - never wore a 13.
• Started wearing size 6 clothes 
• Tried to learn to love swimming but mainly still love sitting on the edge.
• Had a best friend, named Lydia. 
• Had a worst enemy, named Lydia.
• Stayed an introvert but found your voice.

We love you. 

Happy 6th birthday to number 6.  

You are a gift to us all.

incohesive photos & thoughts

Dad is in charge. Cake for breakfast. This is how it should be.

(Bill Cosby got nothin' on Troy Livesay)

I read this recently. Wow.

"Sometimes we are called to proclaim God’s love even when we are not yet fully able to live it.  Does that mean we are hypocrites?  Only when our own words no longer call us to conversion.  Nobody completely lives up to his or her own ideals and visions.  But by proclaiming our ideals and visions with great conviction and great humility, we may gradually grow into the truth we speak.  As long as we know that our lives always will speak louder than our words, we can trust that our words will remain humble."

 -Henri Nouwen

Paige is here in Waco mainly to visit her sister.  

Ahem.

I sat in on one of Britt's Health & Human Behavior classes at Baylor. Oh my proud.

Watching her teach, I felt every single minute of my forty years plus ten I have never lived. 

Public speaking is my very least favorite thing. Teaching is my second least favorite thing. I was so nervous for her.But look at her! There she is - just doing it like it ain't no thang.  (my apologies if this is too much proud)

This girl posts many photos on instagram - 

sometimes they have someone other than Kevin in them!

This is being posted now so as to prevent the people that took the photo from using it against me at a later date. So, here's how it happened ... We're sitting eating dinner with our friends Scott and April enjoying the adult conversation on October 19.  I am looking at April's face and right at the level of her head this butt walks right behind her. If she had moved quickly at that moment it could have been disastrous. The costume party in the middle of October and the nearly nude man were just a small slice of the oddity that is an evening out in Port-au-Prince. Better still, I was boarding the plane to come to Texas, I was on the phone with Troy.  I turned to my right to gaze jealously at the first class passengers in Row 1, seats A and B and I said, "Oh Troy - that naked butt sumo guy is on my flight!"  Once we landed in Fort Lauderdale I sought him out in baggage claim to share this piece (photo) of our long and distinguished history together.  (He wasn't thrilled.) (But then again neither was April.)

Arriving in the center of TX

Skype with these people - it's less conversational than you might think.

It is sad that there are no photos of our son-in-law. I will remedy that before I leave here.

~     ~     ~     ~     ~

I'm meeting with my friend that asks hard questions about God today. I've spent small pockets of time completely alone trying to think and listen. I see that I am very bad at this thinking and listening stuff. I excel at compartmentalizing and busying. The chaos of our day to day and my ability to stay in motion has made me uneasy with stillness and uncomfortable with silence. It appears that I'm undisciplined at the discipline of just being (with God).

Try it.  Try to just be.  Can you do it well?

~     ~     ~     ~     ~

After an intense September we had an October with just two births. (November could easily end up being a 10 baby month again.)

Hope and Phoebe's adult sister is due now. I feel too many things about her at once and I hope I will miss the birth. I feel simultaneously protective and motherly and annoyed and judgmental ... I'm too close to her or something and I don't know what to do with my freakish desire to hold her and rock her or wag my finger in her face and lecture.

The reprieve in October was needed and less births to re-group and gather my faculties has been a huge grace. Nights without sleep are tolerable when spaced evenly apart.  The people in my house wear a different face when they are with me after too much missed sleep and their different faces say "we fear you crazy lady!" I feel bad for them when that psycho person comes home.

I've been helping as an assistant at births since late 2009 but have only recently started keeping track of numbers for future certification. For Wislene's birth I was "primary", which just means I got to catch Saraphina. With the dramatic and life-threatening hemorrhage some little awareness switch flipped in my brain. I have been waking up in the middle of the night with the same weird nightmare every five or six nights. I don't remember many details. The woman in the dream is Haitian but I don't think she is a real person I know. The bottom line is that I forget something important and the lady in the dream is dying and it is my fault.

Of course I knew that birth could be dramatic, of course I knew the possibilities - I read and parrot back the statistics often. Something about being with someone that is actively trying to bleed to death before your very eyes gives you an appreciation for the gravity of it all.  For a few minutes I had my entire fist and forearm placing pressure on her uterus from the inside before I traded spots with Sarah. Nothing about that day or that ambulance ride or the blood everywhere felt real.  Well, no, scratch that. The only part that seems real is the part where it seems like ladies can (and will) die giving birth just because their uterus is tired.  I suppose a part of me recognizes that it is only by grace and divine protection that so many babies and moms (no mothers or babies have been lost at HL during L&D) have had wonderful outcomes. The close call has left me slightly fearful of the day the statistics equal watching someone die.  (do it afraid though, right?)

                                                          

                                                                ~     ~     ~     ~     ~

I was driving around this orderly town in Texas easily completing a list of goals (if I simply re-name my To-Do list/errands  and call them"goals" it provides more victory - and I need some victory - don't mock) and I was thinking about this Kent Annan quote and thinking that yes, he is definitely onto something with this:

"There's something about the desperation of life here (in Haiti) that resonates with how desperate life itself really actually, is. On the surface, an American suburb is a place where life is orderly, manicured, manageable. Here, the surface is raw and needy and clawing. There is some reassurance in living where the exterior life, with all its ragged desperation - and glimpses of beauty and faith and spontaneous dancing - resonates more with the interior experience of being human."

~     ~     ~     ~     ~

adoption

Excerpts from "TREAD SOFTLY ON MY ADOPTION" -

"I know they mean well. But the message good but not natural doesn’t ring true to those who drink from the chalice daily, imbibing the family grace with each swill. We don’t feel unnatural in our God-ordained family. Most of us are naked and unashamed in our homes, crawling under the covers with our mothers and wrestling barefoot with our siblings and laughing with our super-hero fathers. We’re at home where we belong, naturally."

"Family living doesn’t come easy – the tumble of personalities, insecurities and contending wills. We each struggle with identity issues, questioning our worth, wondering if we can contribute something of value to the world. What parent, adoptive or not, hasn’t had to battle personal anxieties while fortifying the healthy identity of their child? Isn’t this par for the course in family formation? Iron on iron, friction forging character and undaunted acceptance culling a child capable of self-love – this is indigenous to every family, right?"

Please click here to read the full post by Kelley Nikondeha.

step away from the fray

fray/frā/

 

Noun:

A situation of intense activity,  typically one incorporating an  element of aggression or competition.

~   ~   ~   ~   

I'm 35,000 feet in the air flying away from 5/7ths of my children and all of my very best friend.

I'm thinking what I now think whenever I fly away (ever since January of 2010): I hope nothing terrible happens that keeps us separated for longer than we've planned. 

I'm thinking about how nice - and how unfair it is - that I am allowed the chance to fly away from all that deep brown water and mud and mess.

I'm thinking my passport gives me freedom to escape.

I'm thinking about the parts that I cannot escape.

I'm thinking about the first two girls, the 2/7ths and how quickly they've become women. I'm thinking, why does it all pass by so quickly? 

I'm thinking about the last seven or eight weeks and I'm wondering if I want to take the time to process it.

I'm thinking about the condition of my soul and I'm wishing it could be fixed without doing anything hard.

I'm re-reading an email I have only previously skimmed from a loving friend.

"How is God seeming to you these days?"

"What do you need to hear from God?" She asks.

I'm startled by the immediate and involuntary tears running down my face.  I can't easily read those questions  - let alone answer them. I've known for a few weeks that I'm struggling but I further busy myself in order to avoid facing it.

There was the day I was overwhelmed with all the unfixable situations, the day I was testing a lady for Malaria and my mind said a crazy thing "I wish I had Malaria - so I could lie in bed and hide." I knew then that something needed to be dealt with - because that's just weird.

How is God seeming to me these days? 
What do I need to hear from Him?

I am assigned by my friend to answer those questions and more.  My tactic is to do anything but engage in thinking about difficult things.  Difficult things like God - like where I am with Him.  I stay busy in order to avoid.  My friend knows this and because she knows this she asks:

"How does it feel to be silent and slow down and wait with God?"

Months ago when flights were cheap I planned this trip. Now it's here. I've been given this week away from the intensity of my regular day to day and I'm supposed to slow down, wait, listen, feel, and figure something out.

I'm thinking it would be good to do all that.
I'm thinking it would be easier not to.

I'm thinking most everyone needs to step away from the fray. I'm thinking everyone remains intentionally busy and engaged in some of the wrong stuff. Because I'm thinking that, I'm asking you - What do you need to hear from God? 

a link on a stormy morning

River Grise (often a totally dry riverbed - photo this morning)

We woke up to a third day of cool temps, gray skies, and rain. This is almost unheard of here.

(Today) Thursday is Prenatal day, we're expecting a very low turnout.

The hundreds and thousands living a mile away in tents are most certainly exhausted. How do you sleep when everything you own is soaking wet? Where do you put your baby to sleep when water runs under your feet and all around you?

When I think about the way it feels to wear wet clothes and how quickly I want out of them and into dry/clean clothes ... Then to realize that there is no shelter from the wetness and no dry change of clothing to be found - I'm mortified. Truthfully, thousands of people have no option but to wait for this rain and cold to end.

I cannot imagine what it is to be that vulnerable.

The last six weeks have been weeks of lament in my heart and soul. When I get stuck like this, I have a hard time turning to God. The song/lyrics I posted this morning communicates to me, and for me. 

So, God of the universe 
Do you hear the cries
That pour out from all the earth? 
Can your hands of glory reach down and heal the hurt of the broken? 
And God of eternal things - will you give us eyes to see all the light you bring? 
Will you be the voice that causes our hearts to sing for the broken? 
Can we fall in love again for the first time? 
God of the universe when we hear the cries that pour out from all the earth will you give us hands to reach out and heal the hurt of the broken? 


This post is challenging, please read it with an open heart.

The Broken

In the dark night
Is there a shelter or a rescue light?
Is there a fire burning up the plight
That plagues my shallow heart?
Because lately I swear ths world is just a maze to me
My eyes are blinded by the things I see
That are tearing us all apart
So, God of the universe 
Do you hear the cries
That pour out from all the earth? 
Can your hands of glory
Reach down and heal the hurt
Of the broken?
For so long The hands of hunger held an empty song
Under the burden that they don't belong
It's the poverty of the soul
And, but the weight of - The weight of glory can still rise above
Capture the captives on the wings of love
And carry us to our home
So, God of the universe Do you hear the cries That pour out from all the earth? Can your hands of glory Reach down and heal the hurt Of the broken? And God of eternal things Will you give us eyes To see all the light you bring? Will you be the voice That causes our hearts to sing For the broken? Can we fall in love again for the first time? We wanna fall in love again just like the first time, yeah Can we fall in love again? God of the universe When we hear the cries That pour out from all the earth Will you give us hands To reach out and heal the hurt Of the broken? And God over everything Will you give us eyes To see all the light you bring? Will you be the voice That causes our hearts to sing  - For the broken

(cold) weather warning

Tropical Storm Sandy is making her way through the Caribbean. We're utilizing our winter pajamas and body heat to weather this storm. 

Some of us love 73 degrees with every inch of our scrawny being.

ten years of extra joy

We had a little kick-ball party to celebrate the last 10 joy-filled years.

Ten years ago this week, these two precious gifts were given our last name and citizenship in the US of A. It is possible that I'm slightly biased, but I tend to think of them as the most wonderful Haitian-Americans in the entire city, country, Caribbean, hemisphere, world, solar system, galaxy, universe.  

The other day I was explaining to Isaac that I had come to a place of being okay with having lost a baby boy at the 16 week mark of pregnancy many years ago. I explained that had I not lost him, I don't think we would have adopted. If we wouldn't have adopted Hope and Isaac we wouldn't have moved to Haiti.  There wouldn't be a Phoebe in our family. We wouldn't be where we are - being stretched and growing.

Talk about a mind-numbing, mind-blowing moment. He almost couldn't process it.

Thank you so much Jesus for allowing us the privilege of parenting and loving these two fabulous kids  ... Undeserved gifts indeed.

2002

Happy ten year adoption-anniversary-day Isaac & Hope!

Run For Life Haiti . org

Will you PLEASE take four minutes and watch this:

Maternal healthcare ...a passion. 

The women of Haiti ...a passion.

pas·sion/ˈpaSHən/  Noun:

Strong and barely controllable emotion. A state or outburst of such emotion.

If you are here and reading this, We're asking you to pray and to consider how you can help with this massive and exciting undertaking. This will require passion.

When I first heard what Barry hoped to do, and why he hoped to do it, I was incredulous. Of course I understood his passion for the cause, but I didn't understand how in the world he came to the decision to take on such an insane number of miles. The truth is it isn't necessary for Barry to convince me of his physical capabilities, or his mental stability. It is, however, necessary for all of us to get behind him and support his vision. It is after all - a joint passion. 

January of 2007 Barry was with his wife Rebecca as their son Isaac died approximately 30 minutes before he was born. They never had the opportunity to hold a living, breathing son. Their loss is personal. Their loss is great. They would be the first to tell you that their God is personal. His healing grace is great.  This is what fuels Barry's desire to reduce the  maternal and infant mortality rate in Haiti.

The important things to know:

1. Anyone can get involved

2. The website is: www.runforlifehaiti.org

3. The ultimate goal is to raise $800,000 for the construction of the new, much larger, Maternity Center. In the past two years $146,000 has been raised for the Maternity Center. It is sitting in an account designated to this cause and will be added to this fund. 

At the website you will see a donate button and a link called "get involved". Co-run events are suggested. For non-runners there are dozens of ways you can get involved.  For example, in December in South Texas Tara's mom and musician friends will be holding a Christmas concert. Proceeds from that night will be donated to the Run For Life Haiti fund.  They will be signed up for a co-event as a team. Bake sales, garage sales, other athletic events, concerts, and craft sales are all great ideas. The list of ideas is as endless as your imagination. The holiday season is the perfect season to be creative and give. 

Consider many ways to get involved:

1. Share this post or Share the YouTube video

2. Boldly ask others to give and act

3. Organize a "co-event" of any variety - sign up with a team name

4. Give generously to sponsor Barry and his gallant efforts

5. Check out and "like" all of Heartline's Facebook pages for updates:

    RunForLifeHaiti Page & Main Heartline Page

    Maternity Center Page & Haitian Creations Page & Heartline Guesthouse Page 

6.  Pray for the pregnant women in the program, pray for the women on the wait list 

7.  Join us, become passionate about Maternal Healthcare and the women of Haiti

New to this site, never heard of Heartline Ministries or the Prenatal program?
To see some of the faces and families of women that have been supported through their pregnancies please click here, here, here, here, here, here or here and peruse the archives. 

an update

Ten days ago I added this statement (in red) to the Harbor House tab/page.  I also want to publish the update on a new post to be sure we're keeping donors and prayer partners up to date.  

**Update October 8, 2012  
As of this moment we're undecided about the future of the Harbor House. At this time we ask that you not give financial gifts to this program specifically until we determine if we will move forward with taking in another group of young (teen) moms.  The first group graduated on July 21, 2012. We're still working to get each one settled into school or work  (a job) depending upon their needs and this has proven to be a much more difficult task than we imagined.  

Finding the line between advocacy and healthy encouragement/support and creating dependency and entitlement is one of the most difficult pieces of helping someone. Programs that require reintegration into regular life are much more complicated and culturally tricky. We remain uncertain about the future of this program and we ask for your prayers for wisdom and discernment as we decide what to do next and as we continue to help the original 8 teen mothers find their footing outside of the Harbor House. 

Respectfully-
Tara Livesay
Heartline Ministries 


We're currently leaning away from doing anything residential again.  The 18 months went as well as can be expected with a house full of hormones and new young mamas. Bonding between mothers and babies took place. At least a few lives were preserved thanks to the shelter and provision of the home. For some young women, personal growth occurred. The challenges with reintegration are formidable.  As of today we're considering using the house to expand some of the education and crafting programs that happen (Haitian Creations) and we continue to pray and seek direction. Thank you for your prayers.  (Follow comments on this post for further information.)

ramblings and confessions of a jesus lover wresting with social media and the way(s) we idolize

Talent is God given. Be humble. 

Fame is man-given. Be grateful. 

Conceit is self-given. Be careful. 

-John Wooden

Internet marketing & social media, they are the way of the world. Ten years ago Facebook hadn't yet been launched and 'tweet' was a sound that birds made outside of our windows.  Today Facebook has over one billion active users and Twitter is one of the ten most visited websites on the Internet. Multitudes care a lot about it and pay attention to who is following and who is being followed.

I understand sharing our visions, dreams, day to day lives, and stories of those that need and deserve justice. I do. I love connecting to new like-minded friends via social media.  Even so, I question: Where does God fit in to our habits? How much of my trust is placed in His ability to provide for our family and for the work of Heartline and how much of my trust is placed in my ability to promote it. I bristle a bit as I force myself to honestly examine what part of this might be self-promotion. Was I more trusting in His provision before the dawn of social networking? Before all of this became a part of our every day communication, was I more at peace? Can I see and distinguish the line between healthy and unhealthy promotion? Is there one?

This dialogue isn't meant to put anyone on the defensive. Hear this first: It's not about judging anyone but myself. That's what I'm doing here. I don't want to fall into the trap of self importance and loving the idol of self or the idol of social media. Does social media create false gods and false celebrity and are we, as Christians, considering who we want to make famous? Should any one of us be concerned with our "Klout" score. Doesn't that idea smack of something really icky?

In an email exchange with a friend I recently shared some of things that have been bothering me.

A portion of the email:

I so dislike when people treat other more visible Christians like famous people.  I am uncomfortable when people do that to Troy and I and I don't ever want to get sucked into thinking that we are a big deal because someone says we are -- I don't know how to explain it well but I don't love the human and sinful pull of wanting man's approval and when man gives so much approval I feel so squirmy and unsure of how to stay in the right place in my head and heart. I don't want to become confused by man's approval.  So, when I watch social media and I see the way people idolize missionaries and/or big time Christian writers, speakers, bloggers and such it makes me very uncomfortable and I admit I get mad at how we Christians have imported our own little Hollywood and we play these games of "who's who" in the Christian circles. One time I heard Francis Chan say that it totally messes him up to have so many people telling him how great he is. Obviously Francis Chan hears this a dozen times a day but even on a tiny scale I think this is used by the devil to make us put our eyes on ourselves and not our Jesus.

From time to time someone will gush about this blog or elevate us to hero status based on something they made up about us. Usually those perceptions are formed from nothing more than social media interaction or seeing Troy's thousands of robot Twitter followers or something equally fake and unimportant.

Social media has a place and a purpose. I know this. I want to keep the baby from flying across the room as I throw out this bathwater.

I am cognizant that it must be used with caution. For myself, I'd like it to be about bringing honor to the One that gifted us in the first place. I'd like my words to reflect His love and my respect for the Haitian people and I'd like to keep myself in check. I recognize how much I need to look to Jesus and His example and avoid the easy trap of elevating one another and/or ourselves.

It seems to me like Christian culture just mimics regular culture but re-labels it and calls it holy and acceptable. I expect there is already a  repackaged 'Klout for Jesus' scoring system in development with which to legitimize our narcissism as unto the Lord.

We're all excited about various Christian figures that we admire or respect. In and of itself it's not all bad  -- but we're taking it to new levels. Thanking or recognizing someone for the way God has used them to speak to our hearts and souls is one thing, swooning over someone and deciding they are better, more important, deserving of fame and even glory is quite another. We're labeling people as "A list" Christians and "most influential" and we're categorizing people according to their on-line influence. That makes me uncomfortable. While we are building up the influential, we are trampling on the faceless faithful that daily go about their life and work without pining for recognition. Worse than that though, I feel like we're getting tripped up and sucked in and often times forgetting that Jesus is supposed to be the Famous One. 

photo credit: dks systems

new life

'Mwen menm, mwen vin pou moun ka gen lavi, 

epi pou yo genyen l' an kantite.'

First post about Jesula here.

Recent post about the birth of baby Sarah here. 

Home:

Jesula's birth and a Good Shepherd

Yesterday, a precious baby girl for Jesula (jesus is here) Difficile (difficult).

The last ten minutes of this birth and the first few minutes outside of the womb proved to be difficult indeed. 

For a number of adrenaline-filled moments sweat was pouring off of nervous midwives and urgent prayers were uttered on behalf of this woman and child as fetal heart tones took a dive.

Truthfully, I don't think we necessarily expected easy, even though yes, Jesus is here.

One thing that I've learned working here, one thing I'd rather enjoy unlearning, and unknowing  ... The battle rages on forcefully in the spiritual realm.

It is alarming enough to simply read the words of Jesus in John chapter 10 -  "the thief approaches with malicious intent, looking to steal, slaughter, and destroy ..." But it is petrifying to bear witness to it from the front row on occasion.

Back at home after this intense birth, I'm processing conflicting feelings of fear and victory, uncertainty and assurance, joy and sorrow. I am simultaneously hopeful and sad as I think about Jesula and her new baby girl. I feel both weight and levity while carrying additional concerns for my own baby girls.

I think about these ongoing battles and I look up the second half of this verse in many translations:

• I came to give life with joy and abundance.
• I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.
• I came that they may have and enjoy life, and have it in abundance to the full, till it overflows. My purpose is to give them a rich and satisfying life.
• Mwen menm, mwen vin pou moun ka gen lavi, epi pou yo genyen l' an kantite.

My heart longs for the end of the story. My soul aches for these battles to end.  

It appears the only thing to do is remain patiently trapped in the tension of what is and what will be.

Verse 9 ... "I am the gate; whoever enters through Me will be liberated, will go in and go out, and will find pastures."
Verse 11 ... "I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down His life for the sheep in His care."