Friends on a Thousand Hills - Rwanda Part 4

I’ve decided there are no relaxing days in Rwanda. I tried to make it so this morning by getting up early and having my coffee on the dining room balcony while journaling and praying. But that was followed by a never ending-day of home visits and bible studies with six year olds and more home visits and my first close up view of extreme poverty. But before all that I sat down to talk with God, because I needed to talk through the emotions and pain and anger I experienced yesterday at the genocide memorial.

One million people killed in one hundred days. That equals 10,000 men, women, children and babies murdered. Every. Single. Day. I do not understand this. I don't understand how this could happen. How neighbors could kill their neighbors. How husbands could kill their wives. How priests and pastors could help kill entire congregations. How can this be understood? How do I process this?

This morning I read from Psalm 83. It’s not a happy Psalm. A lot of them aren’t. A lot of the Psalms are angry and accusing even towards God, asking really hard questions. Psalm 83 seemed appropriate.

God do not keep silent.
Do not be deaf, God; do not be idle.
See how Your enemies make an uproar.

I wrote these words this morning in my prayer journal: “Jesus, help me with my feelings towards the genocidaires. It is easy to hate them, yet that is not what you want from me.”

It is so easy to hate. Why I wonder does that seem to be the human go to emotion? I am always cognizant that here in Rwanda the ground my feet are touching was once covered in death. I interact with the people here and wonder, what were you doing then? I know that as I walk down the street I am passing murderers. How do I process this? I don’t want to hate. I don’t want to cast blame.

This is one of the great benefits of the lamenting, mournful Psalms. This is where I go when I’m angry with the pain and suffering and injustice revolving in our world like a merry go round. These Psalms give me permission to be angry with God. To ask why? And to get to a place where I’m asking God to guide me through emotions that could cause me harm.

Psalm 13 seems appropriate for Rwanda's season of death.

Lord, how long will You forget me?
Forever?
How long will You hide Your face from me?
How long will I store up anxious concerns within me,
agony in my mind every day?
How long will my enemy dominate me?

Consider me and answer, Lord my God.
Restore brightness to my eyes;
otherwise, I will sleep in death.
My enemy will say, “I have triumphed over him,”
and my foes will rejoice because I am shaken.

But I have trusted in Your faithful love;
my heart will rejoice in Your deliverance.
I will sing to the Lord
because He has treated me generously.

Friends on a Thousand Hills - Rwanda Part 5

Friends on a Thousand Hills - Rwanda Part 3

There was no rest for the weary on our first full day in Rwanda. And after a ten hour flight from Amsterdam yesterday we were, indeed, weary. The view from our guest house may have compensated somewhat for the early start to my day. I’ll let you decide. This is where I spent my morning devotions and journaling. It’s possible I even did some birdwatching.

After morning worship at Africa New Life Church, which was very lively, we had lunch at the (famous to some) restaurant Heaven. It is possible that my husband is quite jealous I have eaten there and he has not. . .  We spent two hours at lunch, and were joined by one of Africa New Life Ministries’ founders. He gave us an overview of the ministry and answered our many questions. It was our crash course in Rwanda, the good and the difficult in this constantly developing country.

We then made our way to the Kigali Genocide Memorial. It is simultaneously a horrible and beautiful place. We saw many photographs and videos of that horrible time and read a lot of history but two things are burned into my mind. 

First, is a photograph of children taken in a church where they had sought refuge from the génocidaires. In the photo there are maybe a dozen children, none older than ten or twelve. All look scared and somber, their sad eyes drilling into mine. But one boy in the middle of the church is smiling broadly as though this photo was just one of many happy photos taken of young children. I cannot forget his face. I know he died soon after that moment.

Second, was after we had gone outside and walked along the tomb which holds the remains of 250,000 Rwandans. At the end of the tomb there is a wall of names. The names of those killed. As I read those names I found a familiar name. It was not a person I knew. But it is the same name as a person I love in Boise. A young person. Who is Rwandan. A person I love so much. I could spend not one more minute in that place, and I could not stop thinking about the person I love whose name is on that wall. I wanted to be alone and cry for a very, very long time. And I wanted to be home holding baby David, whose dimpled smile would cure the most wounded of hearts. 

Looking into the face of evil is hard. There is nothing easy in it. But someone must do it or how else do we stop evil from repeating itself?

Sometimes, when life is difficult (and mine is not often difficult!), I think of one of my dear friends from Rwanda. I think of her and her courage, and I think I’ve never met anyone braver than she is. And I carry on. Because I can. Because, "God has not given me a spirit of fear but of power and of love and of sound mind” (2 Timothy 1:7).  And with that power and in letting go of fear and with a strong mind, I can change the world. I can change my world.

Let us keep staring down evil and replacing it with good. With justice. With help for the needy and fatherless. Let’s stare it down while upholding the rights of the oppressed and destitute. Let’s stare it down while rescuing the poor and needy.

Because you can change the world. Your world.

Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be afraid, for I am your God. I will strengthen you; I will help you; I will hold on to you with My righteous right hand. Isaiah 41:10

Provide justice to the needy and the fatherless; uphold the rights of the oppressed and the destitute. Rescue the poor and needy. Psalm 82:3-4

And I am not afraid.

Friends on a Thousand Hills - Rwanda Part 4

Friends on a Thousand Hills - Rwanda Part 2

It takes 21 hours to get from Boise to Rwanda - 21 hours of flight time that is. This doesn't include getting to the airport early or plane changes or my personal favorite, sitting in the airplane waiting for all those (slower than me) people to find their seats and stow their carryon bags and then waiting for all those other planes to get out of our way so we can finally get off the ground. I am a terribly patient person as you can see. 

In short, it takes a very long time to get to Rwanda.

And so rather than spending two full days traveling, and because my husband has spoiled me too much with frequent flier miles and hotel points, etc., etc., here I am in The Netherlands in the delightful village of Haarlem, resting and sleeping (in a bed even!) before boarding the plane tomorrow morning for Kigali. Our plane will make a brief stop in Kilimanjaro. I'm crossing my fingers that I will see, from my tiny airplane window, the great Mt. Kilimanjaro. And then I will finally, finally set my feet on the ground in Rwanda.

In the meantime, I have been wandering the cobbled streets of Haarlem and marveling once again at its beauty and how delightful I find the Dutch. Maybe it's just that my great love of bicycling spills over onto actual humans, but whatever, I love Holland. I haven't even accidentally stepped into the oncoming path of a speedy bicyclist, something both the residents of Haarlem and myself are grateful for.

Warning: Awkward Selfie Alert

But on the eve of my flight to Africa, I have strange feelings swirling about inside me. I am so grateful to be visiting the country many of my beloved friends in Boise found shelter and safety in after fleeing their home country of Congo. Rwanda gave them shelter for over a decade, some for more than 15 years. Rwanda, a tiny country a bit smaller than the State of Maryland, which was itself just rising from the ashes of a horrible genocide. They took in my friends and gave them land on which to live and raise their children. Today there are over 105,000 refugees living in tiny Rwanda.

And yet my home country is embroiled in angry debate over whether to allow into our very large country any Syrian refugees at all. I'm trying to process all this in a way that Jesus would find pleasing. But I am sad. I am dismayed. I am discouraged. Maybe I am angry.

In my own state of Idaho, the small town of Twin Falls has even placed on their ballot for an upcoming vote a measure that would permanently close the refugee center in that town. We like to call ourselves the "home of the brave," but this looks like fear to me.

Newly arrived refugees in Boise.
Five year old Nadia is showing off
her new immunization - ouch! 

I don't have all the answers on the refugee crises, but I do follow Jesus, and he has much to say on caring for those in need. I choose the way of Jesus, and I choose not to fear. Because Jesus asked this of me.

And also. . . Jesus was a refugee.

Matthew 2:13-15 Now when they had gone, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, "Get up! Take the Child and His mother and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is going to search for the Child to destroy Him." So Joseph got up and took the Child and His mother while it was still night, and left for Egypt. He remained there until the death of Herod.

Friends on a Thousand Hills - Rwanda Part 3

Friends on a Thousand Hills - Rwanda Part 1

I have the very best of husbands. It’s true. Six months ago I said I wanted to join a group of women (strangers even!) who were traveling to Rwanda. His response was a resounding, encouraging yes! He has been my biggest encourager in this adventure of learning and travel I am embarking upon.

This is a different kind of travel for me, and my suitcase reflects that. My suitcase is one-third full with my own belongings and bulging with gifts I am taking from my Boise friends to their families in Rwanda. I love this! I love this connection I have between two continents.

This week has brought me a steady stream of visitors and messages and phone calls - of prayers and love as I set off. My girlfriends came over to pray for me, taking time from their busy lives to trek over to the east side of Boise. At church last week I brought a map of Rwanda and poured over it with my African friends as they each pointed out where they were from, where their families still live, and could I visit them? Would I be going there? I want so badly to visit them all but time constraints mean I can visit only a few. It was hard saying no.

Yesterday evening Kevin and I went to sit with friends whose oldest brother died suddenly over the weekend in the refugee camp where he lived with his wife and two children in Rwanda. It’s hard to confront pain, for what could we do except say we’re so sorry and here we are, your friends, sharing your pain. We stayed over an hour visiting and laughter followed. We talked about how our cultures are different and shared some funny differences. Our friends from Africa cannot comprehend why our children (ages 26 and 21) don’t still live at home with us. This brought confusion and laughter and great conversation about different ways of living.

Afterwards, we popped into a nearby apartment to say goodbye to more friends. The home was filled with children who attend our weekly bible study, and I spent the entire time holding one of two twin girls who are three years old and the cutest ever! They fought over me and who doesn’t like that!

And so it was that I returned home later than I wanted and cranky and stressed about finishing my packing. Kevin was a saint and did all the right things to help me, even suggesting we go to bed and watch a travel documentary guaranteed to put me right to sleep. . . it did.

This morning I woke to a FaceTime goodbye from my sweet daughter and texts from friends and family who are praying me along. I wrote in my prayer journal for the millionth time, “God, you are so good to me.”

If you would like to be a part of my adventure, please join me in the following prayers:

• Safety in travel as we will be driving long distances every day.
• For good health.
• Protection and courage as I visit the Nyamata Church Memorial. So many of my friends experienced the Rwandan genocide in unspeakable ways. Some of them hid in churches and found safety there. I'm afraid it will be hard for me to see these horrors up close.
• That I will be a blessing to those I meet - especially as I teach a Bible study class at Africa New Life Ministry’s Dream Center in Kigali. That my words will not be mine, but only God’s.
• That I will bring blessings to my friends and family in Boise on my return.
• Protection from pride and arrogance - from a “know it all attitude.” Humility!

Humility. Why is it so hard? Pride remains an always constant threat. These past few months I have been studying the life of Jesus as written in the gospel of Matthew. Jesus says over and over and over that the last will be first and the first last. Humility, humility, humility! It is vital if I want to follow Jesus for real. Yet we don’t hear much about humility in our world - in our “me" culture. We are easily offended and seem to find comfort in hating entire groups of people. We use words like “them” and “us” and we love to place blame, but humility asks of us something else. Humility says we are all the same. Humility says your needs are as important as mine. Humility says the God in you is the same as the God in me.

I lead a privileged life. Most of us do if we live in the United States. It’s important to own that. The Reverend Traci Blackmon said, "Privilege is an othering of people that is supported institutionally in such a way that has become the norm. Privilege is saying that the God in you is less than the God in me. Because if you are Christian, you must believe that God resides in each and every one of us.” What we do with our privilege will shape our lives.

Let’s be okay with being last. Let’s be okay with letting that homeless person be first. That mother on welfare. That family in a refugee camp. Let’s do what Jesus asked and see ourselves as all the same. Beloved children of God.



“Whom shall I send and who will go for us?” Then I said, “Here I am. Send me!” Isaiah 6:8

"So if the Bible is not mainly a rule book or a manual for Christian living, what is it? It's about God and God's glory. It's about God freeing us to live as we were intended to live in the story of all creation being made new. The scriptures are meant to draw me to the authority of Jesus in my life first and foremost." Serving With Eyes Wide Open, Doing Short-Term Missions with Cultural Intelligence by David A. Livermore

"Rest in God alone my soul for my hope comes from Him. He alone is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold. I will not be shaken.” Psalm 62:5-6

Friends on a Thousand Hills - Rwanda Part 2

Open Wide the Doors

If you had been at our house Saturday evening, you would have heard a lot of laughter and stories and trash talking – in two languages.

Saturday evening we invited friends over for dessert and games. We had the best of times. I made pumpkin pie, because it is a favorite of my friend Beatrice. Okay, I didn’t make pie, I made four pies because we had nineteen people in our home. We were eleven messy children plus eight adults around the table. Afterwards even Molli, our faithful Labrador, couldn’t get the floor clean.

After the adventure with pumpkin pie and a lot of talking and laughter, we moved outdoors for a rousing game of corn toss. Did I mention seven of our guests arrived in the United States three weeks ago? They are newly arrived Congolese refugees. They had never been to our home or tasted pumpkin pie or seen whipped cream shoot out of a can – our daughter Rebecca made sure they were very, very skilled with the can of whipped cream before the evening’s end.

They had never played corn toss or seen a golf course. And did I mention we can’t speak to each other without an interpreter? None of these things seemed to matter as we laughed – sometimes uproariously – and trash talked each other over a spirited game of corn toss, at which they excelled!  And by the way, trash talking requires no interpretation.

When the sun disappeared, we returned to our living room and before they left, our new friends said they wanted to thank us for inviting them into our home by singing a song and praying for us. They then sang two beautiful songs in Kinyaranda, and we knelt together as they prayed.

After nearly three years sharing life with our friends from Africa, I recognize this kind of easy togetherness and laughter and sharing of lives is not normal. I didn’t realize integration between cultures and languages and colors is not the norm. In my naiveté I thought that in twenty-first century America we were all the same. Sadly, I now know my white American home is likely the only white home our friends from Africa are likely ever invited into. This breaks my heart. Why, I wonder do we require such sameness in our friendships? How boring. How small we make our world.

Recently in the children’s bible study, which Kevin and I teach weekly in our home, we studied the fruit of the spirit – or in non-churchy language – the characteristics of God. We learned that when God’s spirit lives in us – as it does for every believer who accepts Jesus as savior – we are filled with love, joy peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control. 

I love my friends from Africa so much. I just do. And I know this is only a gift from God. It’s not me. It is God’s spirit in me that fills me with love. Left on my own, love for myself overrides any love I might have for another. But God has given me this amazing gift. Love for others. I am so grateful. My life is fuller and bigger and more complicated and joyful and sometimes confusing. And there are lots and lots of birthday parties! I would never go back to my one color, one culture world.

What is holding you back today from casting a bigger net in your relationships? Do you want to open your heart to this bigger world? This rich love? Let's make our worlds more colorful.

“Above all, maintain an intense love for each other.” 1 Peter 4:8

“Be kind and compassionate to one another.” Ephesians 4:32

“There is no Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” Galatians 3:28

Why and Why and Why - Those Easy Questions Children Ask

A few weeks ago at our children's Bible study one of our sweet kids asked, "How did sin happen?" Specifically, this ten year old wanted to know how did Lucifer go from being the most beautiful angel in heaven, to being the founder of sin and evil. There were three adults around the table and ten children. What followed was a great discussion.

We came to this conclusion. Lucifer wanted to be the boss. He didn't like that God was more important than him. He then convinced a lot of other angels that life would be more fun if they were also more important than God. If they could be the boss too.

Fast forward millennia later and we see the same thing playing out all around us. It is the reason for most of our pain and suffering. I want to be the boss of my husband. He wants to be the boss of me. All manner of trouble and pain follows. Brothers want to be the boss of sisters and sisters want to be the boss of brothers. And so it goes.

Take this to a global level and war and genocide follow. It isn't complicated, but it is tragic and millions of men and women and boys and girls live daily in pain and suffering.

Letting go of the desire to be in control is not easy. In Christian speak we call this letting go "dying to self." It is choosing to put my desires in the backseat and my husband’s and my children’s and my neighbor's in the front seat. It is saying I love you more than I love myself.

It isn't complicated but neither is it easy.

Rightly ordered love is the secret to a holy and fulfilling life. St. Augustine

When we genuinely love God with all of our hearts, all of our souls, all of our minds, and all of our strength, this sacred love will transform our speech, convert our actions, and inspire our worship. Scott McKnight, The Jesus Creed

When Life is Overwhelming

Sometimes the awful things in life threaten to overwhelm me. It felt like that this morning when I woke up. I made the mistake of looking at Facebook. It made me feel hopeless. So much awful. So many angry people. So many hate-filled people. So many blaming people. Good morning to me.

This has been a roller coaster week of terrible news and celebratory news and more terrible news and more celebratory news. It’s hard to keep up.

Here is what my week has looked like.

Two friends died this week of cancer. I don’t know what to say about this except even when it is not unexpected, death is shocking and painful and hard to process. Sometimes I am overwhelmed with the sadness of this world.

In between delivering one of my favorite friends – eight year old James – to basketball camp every day, I made phone calls and delivered letters and attempted to speak with apartment managers, all trying to jump through obstacles to help another friend get into low-income housing. I did not think it would happen. I knew it would not happen because of anything I did. The obstacles were too great. So I did what I do. I called on my best girlfriends - women who know how to pray big.  Actually, I texted them and their texted replies made me cry. I love my friends. And then I went to meet with the apartment manager. When I arrived, she would not see me. I delivered my letter and left discouraged. I texted my girlfriends and said, “If this happens, it will be all God.”

Then I did a new thing. I waited. I didn’t try to fix it on my own. I didn’t look for alternative housing. I waited and it was not easy, because this planner wanted a plan. And after two days of waiting, it happened. My friend got her low-income housing. Her housing situation is secure. For someone making $8 an hour and supporting a family, this is huge. It changes the trajectory of their lives. Sometimes I am overwhelmed with the goodness of God.

Yesterday, I drove my friend to an appointment with the low-income housing manager. On our way home, we laughed the entire way. We laughed and I told her that when I got the good news, I knelt down and cried I was so happy and overwhelmed. Then she cried and we laughed some more.

Mixed into this week I also attended traffic court with a young friend and sat in the ER with another young friend, because a 23 year old should not sit alone and scared by her mother’s bedside.

Yesterday morning I had the most delightful conversation with my son who is hilarious and hard working and Jesus loving and who also loves to push his mom’s buttons because he is a stinker and because it makes me laugh. Thirty minutes of silly conversation was a gift. I am overwhelmed by the goodness of my children. Yesterday evening two friends came for dinner to entertain us with their awesomeness. It was a gift. I am overwhelmed by the friends God has put in my life.

Life is hard and messy and the deeper into community I live, the deeper into pain and suffering I also live. But the thing is, Jesus did not ask me to stay in my beautiful home, enjoying the beautiful view out my window, enjoying my wonderful husband and son and daughter and my loving friends. Jesus asked me to love my neighbor. To help them.  To know their names. To change their lives. Be a difference. Because I can. Because to sit in my house, in my comfort while doing nothing means I am not following Jesus. There is no way around that. If I say I follow Jesus but do nothing to help others, I am not following Jesus.

But, “I have found the paradox that if I love until it hurts, then there is no more hurt, but only more love.” Mother Teresa

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus

This week I saw a miracle happen. I am overwhelmed.

And the Kingdom of God Came Near - A Family Reunited

Recently I wrote about the sadness and despair that settled on me after attending The Justice Conference. Life continues to offer hardship and being in community and loving others gives me a close up view of pain. It can be a difficult path to walk, and I often struggle not to be overwhelmed by this misery.

And then yesterday. 

Yesterday, Kevin and I went to the airport to greet our friends Calvin and Jackson’s parents and three younger siblings. Calvin and Jackson arrived as refugees in Boise nearly two years ago. Alone. Without their parents. I don’t think Americans can fully grasp the pain this caused them. I have not seen the close family bonds my African friends share replicated in American families. We try, but find it difficult to grasp what they have experienced, the harshness of their lives before arriving in the safety of the United States. We try but we can’t really. And these shared harsh realities create a bond of love between family members that our easy lives in America do not often achieve.

This world offers so many cruel, difficult to bear and sometimes life threatening, life taking experiences. But yesterday it did not. Yesterday it offered something else. Yesterday I saw the kingdom of God come very near. Yesterday a family was reunited. Hearts that were aching, now rejoice. A beloved father and mother wrapped their arms around their sons and the angels sang with them.

I’m grateful to be part of a world that sometimes breaks my heart, but also sings with joy at our triumphs.

Today I sing.

Have I Been a Peacemaker Today? Thoughts from The Justice Conference 2015

Opening speaker at the Justice Conference, Cornel West said, "There’s a radical gentleness in the air here.” But as I left the Conference the following night, I didn’t feel gentleness. Instead, I felt torn up, hurt, sad, regretful. Grief had settled inside me. As I walked with my husband back to our hotel, tears ran down my face. I felt grief at how unloving humans can be towards each other. Grief at how unconcerned we can be towards the suffering of others. Grief at how easily we brush aside words like “white privilege,” saying of course there is no such thing. And if there is, for sure, I am not part of it.

I cried because I heard too much. Too much pain from my black friends. Too many years of being treated less than.

I felt grief for my new friend Allen, a young black man recently graduated from Yale Divinity School. I cried because his life has been so different from mine. As we said goodbye I shook his hand and said, “My life is easier than yours. And that's stupid and wrong and I’m sorry.” He replied, “That’s okay. That’s okay.” But it isn’t and not one of us should think it is.

I wondered if the 2015 Justice Conference was harder to attend because it focused so much on the injustice that has found a home right here in my back yard. In my country. I can’t pretend it isn’t happening, and I can’t pretend I don’t have a role to play.

"The world could use more Justice." Our Uber driver said when we replied we were in Chicago to attend a conference on justice.

My husband jokingly said this should be titled The Injustice Conference because that is what we heard about. There were a few stories offering glimmers of hope, but mostly we heard about injustice. It was hard.

Immediately after the Justice Conference ended, my Twitter feed blew up with references to #McKinney. You can read about the incident in McKinney, Texas on your own and form your own opinions. But as followers of Christ, we must see every person as carrying the image of God inside. Every word we speak, every thought we have is a reflection of what we believe about our God. Reverend Traci Blackmon said, "Privilege is an othering of people that is supported institutionally in such an way that has become the norm. Privilege is saying that the God in you is less than the God in me. But if you are Christian, you must believe that God resides in each and every one of us."

I wonder if instead of so freely putting our bystander opinions on Facebook and Twitter, we could admit we don’t know everything. Justice Conference speaker, Jonathan Merritt said, “Bravery may mean learning when to shut our mouths and to observe rather than to opine, to seek to understand rather than to be understood.” 

As someone who lives in a fairly non-diverse city, I am committed to shutting my mouth and listening. I am committed to learning the history of how we got here. I am committed to reading authors who don’t look like me. Reading stories from those who have lived the harsh reality of injustice. 

It is naive to expect any person to come into a situation without preconceived ideas. Each of us brings a different past to the table. Different pains. Different triumphs. Our unique pasts mean we see situations differently. N.T. Wright says, “Integrity consists not in having no presuppositions but of being aware of what one’s presuppositions are and of the obligation to listen and interact with those who have different ones."

As part of the Justice Conference, I attended an all day training entitled, “Faith and Peace.” At the heart of the teaching was this: Jesus asks me to be a peacemaker. Am I living a life that reflects that? Have I been a peacemaker today? Have I been a peacemaker with my husband, my son, my daughter, my neighbors, my city, my enemies, my world?

"The world God is making is a world where my flourishing no longer trumps yours." Jer Swigart

"Mercy was at the heart of Jesus' messianic mission, just as it remains at the heart of the church's work today. Whether or not that's the script people want us to follow, that's the way we've got to go. And Jesus invokes a special blessing on the people who realize that this is the true story. . . This is where and how God is at work. Those who recognize it, and are not offended because they were expecting something else, will know God's blessing." N.T. Wright,  Matthew for Everyone.

Matthew 11:1-6 When Jesus had finished giving orders to His twelve disciples, He moved on from there to teach and preach in their towns. When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent a message by his disciples and asked Him, “Are You the One who is to come, or should we expect someone else?” "Jesus replied to them, “Go and report to John what you hear and see: the blind see, the lame walk, those with skin diseases are healed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor are told the good news. And if anyone is not offended because of Me, he is blessed.”

Keeping the Crazy Out

Perhaps blinders would be a good solution to the crazy that swirls around us every day. I wonder how we stay focused on anything when the crazy of this world threatens at every moment to derail us from our goals. Certainly, the crazy is very good at keeping us from knowing what our purpose in life is.

For many years I knew my purpose was to raise a son and daughter who loved God and loved others. I've done my best to - in the words of Jen Hatmaker – “over love and over value” my children their entire lives. I unabashedly affirm this way of parenting, because why ever would we want our children to feel anything less then absolutely and completely loved and valued!

Then my children grew into amazing adults and their dad and I were left on our own to figure out what our next purpose in life might be. Well, it took God about a nano second to drop that purpose into our laps, and I'm so grateful. I get to be every day friends with Congolese refugees living in Boise. I get to love them and share my life, share my home, teach them to read, talk about God with them, play games with them, teach a dozen kids how to swim, mentor the older ones into college and just plain love them. It’s not complicated, but it is busy and I do sleep well at night.

Still, every day life attempts to pull me off course. The crazy of this world is constantly at war with what I know to be my purpose.  Sometimes I read the news or scroll through Twitter or Facebook and I'm overwhelmed with a sense of hopelessness. There is such hate, such poverty, such fear, such violence.

And if that weren’t enough, there is the ridiculousness that is politics today. The truth no longer matters much. All that matters is my opinion, and if I keep saying it often enough, you will start to believe it. How fun. Except no.

Sometimes I sit in frustrated despair wondering what is the point. Everything is so awful. People are so horrible to each other. Life is a hamster wheel spinning and spinning and going nowhere. We are all so broken.

It is when the crazy threatens to overwhelm me, that I remind myself to stay focused. Face forward, always moving into my purpose. Do not be distracted by the crazy. This is what keeps me from being overwhelmed by the evil and stupidity this world daily throws at us. I keep my eyes on David and Simbi and Beatrice and Kamana and Justin and Celestin and James and Fabrice and Gedeon and Giselle and so many, many others whose lives I can really change, whose lives I have seen change. I keep doing the next thing. And then the next thing. And then the next thing.

And I carry on. Because I can change this world.