roots & revolution

Recently I have been thinking a lot about my family, my lineage and what makes me, me. I have been thinking a lot about the weird backgrounds that God chose to wire me together from. My blood is basically a toxic mix of Zambian, South African, Scottish, Portuguese, Malaysian, French and English. And this is why I sigh and give that “it’s-a-long-story-look” when people ask.

The pic above was taken at my parents wedding. My dad was 19 and my mom 18. Both my Papas (Granddads) at their sides…

Somehow my Grandparents had all come from somewhere else. My dad’s dad was a World War 2 British Navy officer settling into a more peaceful Zambia than the Great Britain he had grown up in. I guess he didn’t think Great Britain was all that Great after WW2. He did try moving back after 50yrs only to return to Africa 4 months later. (I tell you, Africa gets in your bones.) I also always thought it strange that an ex-Navy officer ended up living in one of the most land-locked countries in the world. Anyway, he is a fine Scotsman with a sharp wit and humor that would leave you rolling on the floor with snot and tears flowing freely. My Mom’s Dad was fleeing increasing racial struggles as Apartheid was being established in South Africa. He was an amazing craftsman and a man who would glide across the dace floor with my grandmother, smoother than Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.

My family seemed to be running away from the world’s problems to find solace and sanctuary in a country of stunning beauty and peace.
And here I find myself running to the very problems they sought to protect me from. I’ll be honest, I grew up very privileged and enjoyed the best my country had to offer but I feel responsible as I have lived next door to poverty, felt the breath of racism and I have seen the cruel face of injustice.

Naïve perhaps but I want to fight in this Jesus revolution over my generation and be part of the struggle for redemption.

As I walk this journey I wonder where these roots, this mix, this God concoction will come into play. Perhaps like the Apostle Paul who was both a Jew and a Roman citizen, God in His sovereignty has something up His sleeve. Perhaps.

Okay now I’m rambling. I gotta be up early to try my luck at getting Coldplay tickets tomorrow! Ah, sweet sleep.

images

So just a quick thought to share. You may have heard…we have had a sighting of the image of the Virgin Mary at the Fullerton/ I-90 underpass here in Chicago. An image formed from the salt stains and water on the wall of this underpass. It just happens that I get on and off that freeway exit everyday. And everyday I have witnessed the masses, cameras, candles, flowers, flags, beads and people… loads and loads of people coming to look, stare and pray.

I’m not kidding but I myself had a kind of spiritual moment as I drove past the crowds recently. My eyes glanced across the underpass and I saw a homeless man all alone with his shopping cart. And that is when I heard the Spirit speak His sadness to me;
“People look for the image of Mary in the stains on a wall but cannot even see the image of God in the eyes of a homeless man.”

say NO to genocide

Tonight I went to go listen to Mr. Hotel Rwanda himself; Paul Rusesabagina. Thanks to the sweet hook up from Mary I got to hear an up close and personal retelling of the Hotel Rwanda story. From start to finish the small audience from the Latin School were all ears as he walked us through the 100 days of slaughter that destroyed his country and changed his life.

He spoke as a man with a strong opinion, not as a dancing politician or a trained spokesperson. It struck me that he spoke as an ordinary man who had made extraordinary choices when confronted by the face of death... the face of genocide.
As he challenged us on the Sudan and what we should be doing he used words like duty, obligation and international community. I thought about Darfur, Northern Uganda, DROC and Zimbabwe… these are today’s Rwanda. I thought about Africa. I thought about ethics and moral issues. I thought about the AIDS pandemic and the Malaria campaign I had worked on today (malaria recently claimed the life of one of the orphans I serve.) I thought about Fair Trade, corrupt politicians, grass roots indigenous ministries, NGO's and the UN. As a Christ one I was sitting there thinking about where the gospel, Jesus, God and His Church fit into all this?... all the while my old simplistic ideals being tossed out the window one thought at a time.

As I ate my dinner and went over my notes I thought about it all... and I stared out at the traffic in the rain and the people sitting in the 24hr Starbucks across the street, listening to live music while sipping on overpriced coffee. I thought.... I thought about going over there and getting myself a cup of over priced Unfair Trade coffee.
Argh...frustrated.
I thought about my life and what I’m doing and want to do and should be doing and am not doing…I thought myself into a headache and asked God to really navigate me through this, to make sense of it all.

I then realized that I need a think tank! I need smarter people than me whose hearts burn with a similar flame to join me in looking, thinking, loving and acting. So next Sunday night May 1st @ 7:00pm if you would like to come over I really want us to throw some tough thoughts out there. Mark it up, count it down and be there! Don’t forget, May 1st, May day, may-day, MAYDAY!

winona lake

I am in Winona Lake, Indiana and it is just gorgeous here. Everything just screams out fresh spring beauty. I am visiting my best mate from high school, Kondo, his wife and kid. Kondo is the worship pastor and counseling pastor at his church.

Yesterday afternoon while he was practicing with the worship team I sat by the lake. It’s dangerous to sit by a beautiful lake when you are extremely thoughtful. With little to complain about and much to be truly grateful for I still came to the conclusion that my life, right now, is like a wheel spinning in the mud. So much effort and energy exerted for so little change.

I lay on the couch after a scrumptious evening bbq and inevitably Kondo and Melissa gave me a free consultation as they always do when I come down here. It is good to have loving people, who are some distance from your life, speak truth into it. I’m not going to divulge…don’t worry. But I do want to end by saying that I think every person should:
1. Have a lake to sit by where you can think deeply.
2. Have loving people who speak honest, hard words into your life when needed.
3. A place to go for a weekend that is away from your world.
4. A comfy leather couch to lay on after a sweet bbq.

Hope you are having a great day; it’s going to be a great week. Okay, see you when I see you.

fav movie lines

Because of the excessive quoting of Reality Bites in the comments section of a previous entry…I am making an appeal to everyone who reads this to share their favorite movie line or lines and let us know why. C’mon share it, anything from Napoleon Dynamite or Office Space to Braveheart or Scent of a Women. Funny, meaningful, romantic (don’t go overboard Jenn) witty, anything… go ahead and bring it.

Since Reality Bites just had its 10th anniversary and I’m still hung up on the character of Troy, I will kick it off with some of his lines:

Troy: Well, should I get married, should I be good, should I astound the girl next door with my velvet suit and my Faustus hood and not take her to movies but to cemeteries and tell her stories of werewolf tongues and four clarinets... What 'Hey, That's My Bike' would like to do as a band is travel the countryside like Woody Guthrie.
Sammy: Or Richard Simmons. You know, how in his commercials he surprises people jogging...
Troy: As you can see, I have the occasional run-in with an anti-Hey-That's-My Biker and to those people I say nobody... nobody can eat 50
eggs.

the miniature earth

I know many of you have already seen this...a gazillion times, but I looked at it again recently..... if you need a little perspective on life, take a look.
www.miniature-earth.com

the Illini, Hofbrau, pizza & miracle juice

So Qball and I went to Ranalli’s pub to watch the tragic defeat of the Illini. We sat there drinking Hofbrau and Jamaican Red Stripe gripping the side of the table anxiously, and enjoying Chicago-style stuffed pizza and the enthusiasm of true Illini fans. I’m not sure if it was the combination of great German beer, our man-pizza we had created and the tension of the game but we both began to spin. Actually the whole room began to spin. Definitely not drunk but buzzing. Eventually the merry-go-round slowed down and we got off and headed home.

I woke at about 4am thirsty as ever. I went to the kitchen, scrounged for some old orange kool aid, mixed it up and downed half a pitcher. As I was leaving this morn, Q told me that he was dreaming of kool aid as he was so thirsty last night but knew we didn’t have any. He went over to the fridge anyway, found half a pitcher and thanked God for His abundant provision. Yes miracles do happen... in funny ways, I guess.
(Q is not so sure as the kool aid in the dream was red. You can’t have it all man.)