Worth: an essential and distinguishing attribute of something or someone.
Worth. How do you define worth? In yourself? In your life? In another human being?
Something in my life shifted - and I remember the exact moment - when I learned the invaluable lesson regarding the worth of another human being. Suddenly my life was no longer about me. Suddenly I realized I had to give some of my dreams away (trusting they would come back around somehow) in order to pursue the truth of this new understanding. I couldn't just sit back and allow life to happen, I couldn't just pursue my own goals, I now felt the excitement of helping pursue dreams that belonged to others, dreams I don't know, dreams that haven't even been birthed.
To those of you that were willing and able to participate in my last post, thank you. Whether you realize it or not, you have justice in you. You have love. You have decided that someone outside of yourself has worth. That is beautiful. Thank you, whoever you were, for the amazing help that you gave. It matters.
To those of you still seeking ways to get involved with something, here's a thought:
Recently I joined a program through Women for Women International which assists women in war-torn regions with financial aid, job training as well as educates her about her rights and her worth. I'm still waiting for her name (it takes about a month), but I'm already praying for her. A couple of rad things about this program for the sponsors:
1. You get to choose the country of the woman you sponsor. Maybe that seems a little superficial, but think of it this way: if you have a heart for women in Afghanistan, God has placed that specific compassion there for a reason. Through the specificity of this part of the program you have the opportunity to ACT on what God has begun in you. And really, if we all do justice for the sole reason of feeling like we SHOULD (and sometimes that is appropriate), the authenticity and beauty dissipates - or it is never there in the first place. There's something to be said for a calling on your heart. Think about that.
2. You have the ability to interact with her. It's an opportunity to cross oceans and cultural lines and many other barriers to tell her because of God you love and value her. You're able to show that through your financial support as well as in the time you take to write to her. Admittedly, this part makes me the most nervous. I'm going to write a letter to a woman in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Me. I will be writing her letters. A white, privileged woman who has never faced a tragedy even similar to hers...what in the world do I talk about? Well, that's something I am sure God has all worked out.
Check out the website and let it simmer...or just do it.
Happy Friday, friends.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
If you have the means...please help.
Hey all, just received this email from a friend who is headed to Congo Thursday to pick up their newly adopted son.
There is a collection bin at the Antioch Church offices until 2:00 PM today, April 7th. If you have additional baby formula or a few moments to drop by some spare cash you may have please do so.
376 SW Bluff Drive, Suite 8
Bend, OR 97702
----
I want to apologize for the short notice, but Kristen and I just got off the phone with our lawyer concerning our trip to the DRC this Thursday. Briefly, Kristen and I will be traveling to the DRC (Kinshasa) to pick up our newly adopted son, Bonheur, this week. Our lawyer informed us of a recent crisis within three orphanages that has just developed.
Apparently, there has been a recent formula shortage within Kinshasa, driving the price of formula up to astronomical prices. As a result, the infants of these orphanages are being fed with water and a spoonful of sugar. Many of the children are not expected to survive. Our itinerary is being altered so that we will be able to deliver formula and food bought at a local market to these three inter-city orphanages, one of which is solely for infants with AIDS.
If there is anything that could be done to get the word out to the Antioch body, it would be much appreciated. Kristen and I will be going to Costco this Wednesday to buy as much formula as our luggage will carry; any additional money will be spent at a local market in Kinshasa to buy food for the orphanages next week.
It is comforting to know that formula and money for basic food necessities will be in the hands of their caretakers within a week.
Cameron
There is a collection bin at the Antioch Church offices until 2:00 PM today, April 7th. If you have additional baby formula or a few moments to drop by some spare cash you may have please do so.
376 SW Bluff Drive, Suite 8
Bend, OR 97702
----
I want to apologize for the short notice, but Kristen and I just got off the phone with our lawyer concerning our trip to the DRC this Thursday. Briefly, Kristen and I will be traveling to the DRC (Kinshasa) to pick up our newly adopted son, Bonheur, this week. Our lawyer informed us of a recent crisis within three orphanages that has just developed.
Apparently, there has been a recent formula shortage within Kinshasa, driving the price of formula up to astronomical prices. As a result, the infants of these orphanages are being fed with water and a spoonful of sugar. Many of the children are not expected to survive. Our itinerary is being altered so that we will be able to deliver formula and food bought at a local market to these three inter-city orphanages, one of which is solely for infants with AIDS.
If there is anything that could be done to get the word out to the Antioch body, it would be much appreciated. Kristen and I will be going to Costco this Wednesday to buy as much formula as our luggage will carry; any additional money will be spent at a local market in Kinshasa to buy food for the orphanages next week.
It is comforting to know that formula and money for basic food necessities will be in the hands of their caretakers within a week.
Cameron
Saturday, April 3, 2010
flurry
something's amiss
it's simply out of order
even my fingers lay
listless on the keys
if they were to move
I worry they may be
brittle and crumble
for what's amiss
is deep in my soul
and that soul is
deeply connected
to every word that
escapes me no matter
the form, whether
spoken or written
or typed or sang
or whispered -
even thought of
I often feel lost in
who I want to be or who
I think I'm meant to be
and when lost I tend
to drift along hoping
for a flurry of the soul
for here I am
bewildered and left
to fend questions I
do not have answers to
and lost I find I'm
asked to hold a brave face
to appear indifferent
for emotion mixed with
confusion is surely
an uncommon taboo
and why oh why would
you possibly feel lost
in a world where you are
fortunate to have
access to anything simply
to make your dreams
come alive
and yet...
and yet I'm often lost
in who I want to be or who
I think I'm meant to be
and for now I'm out to see
if there's anything alive
inside of me and I will
drift along until I find
a flurry in my soul
that speaks deep truth
and love and justice
and mercy and understanding
and all of those things
our souls seem to gravitate
toward for somewhere
we must know truth
for it is built into the
unswerving beat of our hearts.
When I started school last fall I had just a smidgen of direction. I wondered how long it would take before things began narrowing into what I really felt like God wanted me to do with such a fancy little piece of paper. I'm sure as heck not doing it for the "oohs" and "ahhs" (or even the "what the heck does that degree even mean?"). I'm doing it because I'm passionate about justice. I'm passionate about doing justice through communication. I'm passionate about doing justice through my love of writing. That, I believe, is God's beautiful gift to me.
Of course through this season of discovering this passion of mine I feel a little part of me has died. Amidst the research I've been doing about injustice, the stories I've heard, the documentaries I've watched, and even reading some parts of the bible I've found my outlook on this world has dimmed. Honestly? It's probably for the best.
...But I miss the part of me that was unwaveringly optimistic. I miss the part of me that would wake up and never lack hope or faith in what this world could be (but never will be). That part of me, however, has been replaced with a firm belief that eventually, justice will be had. Eventually my life will have fulfilled a purpose greater than I can imagine - not because I want to be great, but because I want injustice to cease. I want justice for the woman who's been raped and birthed a child that will every.damn.day remind her of a horror she lives. I want justice for her child who will quite possibly be neglected and unloved for the sheer fact that he or she exists. I want justice for the little girl and woman that's beaten and drugged and "broken in" to become a prostitute and trafficked around the globe without even a glimmer of hope. I want justice for the slave. I want justice for the oppressed. These people have names and faces and horrific stories...somehow, some way, we must hear them and allow them resonate in our souls that we may do something to help.
No, I cannot fix everything. No, I may not be able to fix anything. Ever. That I understand. I cry for that. However, I will do what I can do and that is write, speak, educate, empower. I know now after a few months of even deeper searching and research that my field has narrowed - even slightly - to women. I don't know what that means. God does. I can rest in that. I also know that doing justice permeates the whole of my life. It is finishing a degree. It is writing. It is this silly, unknown little blog. It is the book I am writing. It is the research that I pour over and cry about. It is the daily goings on. It is drawing near to God.
A note of thanks to my big sister - the one that's known me the most consistently for the longest period of time in one particular place. Thank you for helping me see my soul and my heart in a beautiful, God-ordained way that I might have otherwise passed by. You are a gem (more than the server at the bar who poured us delicious beers...so much more). Love.
it's simply out of order
even my fingers lay
listless on the keys
if they were to move
I worry they may be
brittle and crumble
for what's amiss
is deep in my soul
and that soul is
deeply connected
to every word that
escapes me no matter
the form, whether
spoken or written
or typed or sang
or whispered -
even thought of
I often feel lost in
who I want to be or who
I think I'm meant to be
and when lost I tend
to drift along hoping
for a flurry of the soul
for here I am
bewildered and left
to fend questions I
do not have answers to
and lost I find I'm
asked to hold a brave face
to appear indifferent
for emotion mixed with
confusion is surely
an uncommon taboo
and why oh why would
you possibly feel lost
in a world where you are
fortunate to have
access to anything simply
to make your dreams
come alive
and yet...
and yet I'm often lost
in who I want to be or who
I think I'm meant to be
and for now I'm out to see
if there's anything alive
inside of me and I will
drift along until I find
a flurry in my soul
that speaks deep truth
and love and justice
and mercy and understanding
and all of those things
our souls seem to gravitate
toward for somewhere
we must know truth
for it is built into the
unswerving beat of our hearts.
When I started school last fall I had just a smidgen of direction. I wondered how long it would take before things began narrowing into what I really felt like God wanted me to do with such a fancy little piece of paper. I'm sure as heck not doing it for the "oohs" and "ahhs" (or even the "what the heck does that degree even mean?"). I'm doing it because I'm passionate about justice. I'm passionate about doing justice through communication. I'm passionate about doing justice through my love of writing. That, I believe, is God's beautiful gift to me.
Of course through this season of discovering this passion of mine I feel a little part of me has died. Amidst the research I've been doing about injustice, the stories I've heard, the documentaries I've watched, and even reading some parts of the bible I've found my outlook on this world has dimmed. Honestly? It's probably for the best.
...But I miss the part of me that was unwaveringly optimistic. I miss the part of me that would wake up and never lack hope or faith in what this world could be (but never will be). That part of me, however, has been replaced with a firm belief that eventually, justice will be had. Eventually my life will have fulfilled a purpose greater than I can imagine - not because I want to be great, but because I want injustice to cease. I want justice for the woman who's been raped and birthed a child that will every.damn.day remind her of a horror she lives. I want justice for her child who will quite possibly be neglected and unloved for the sheer fact that he or she exists. I want justice for the little girl and woman that's beaten and drugged and "broken in" to become a prostitute and trafficked around the globe without even a glimmer of hope. I want justice for the slave. I want justice for the oppressed. These people have names and faces and horrific stories...somehow, some way, we must hear them and allow them resonate in our souls that we may do something to help.
No, I cannot fix everything. No, I may not be able to fix anything. Ever. That I understand. I cry for that. However, I will do what I can do and that is write, speak, educate, empower. I know now after a few months of even deeper searching and research that my field has narrowed - even slightly - to women. I don't know what that means. God does. I can rest in that. I also know that doing justice permeates the whole of my life. It is finishing a degree. It is writing. It is this silly, unknown little blog. It is the book I am writing. It is the research that I pour over and cry about. It is the daily goings on. It is drawing near to God.
A note of thanks to my big sister - the one that's known me the most consistently for the longest period of time in one particular place. Thank you for helping me see my soul and my heart in a beautiful, God-ordained way that I might have otherwise passed by. You are a gem (more than the server at the bar who poured us delicious beers...so much more). Love.
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