Skin

Glancing from the kitchen to see four guffawing faces on the couch, mugging in front of i-chat on the computer. The recipient of such silliness: a college friend reporting back from spring break spent swatting baseballs in the Florida sun. Distance bridged by technology. Five tethered humans connecting with four skin-to-skin and one across the electronic divide a thousand miles away.
Hot chocolate cookies come out of the oven. Hilarity ensues as the four try to upload a cookie to the hungry boy yearning far away. He swears he can smell the aroma wafting through the computer.
The laughter dies. They all stare at the screen with the screen staring back at them. Eyes meet in acknowledgement of what is and what is not. Better to see the face and hear the voice than to experience the void of absence. Better still that all five could sit on the couch tasting a mother’s offering. Real trumps virtual every time. Joni

The Shining

Many lighthouses use a French “Fresnel lens” to send a stream of light over long distances. The lenses are made with layers of crystal stacked upon each other, allowing the light beam to be refracted infinitely. Essentially the light is multiplied over and over. This lens is the largest “double clam” type in the world. Ships look for its signal 20 miles away. Airplanes can see it for over 90 miles.

I think about our reflection of God’s image whenever I see a lighthouse. Imagine refracting the love of God, the grace of God, the mercy of God, the patience of God infinitely. Imagine people looking for the light from miles away. God is the Light and in God there is no darkness. What an amazing privilege to be part of the Shining. Joni

Proud Mary

Last night was the annual Christmas program for the Notre Dame School. It is our favorite event of the season for a very personal reason. After forgettable experiences elsewhere, our oldest son has thrived at this little school in the shadow of downtown Dallas. They have treated him with respect and have expected the same in return. They have encouraged him creatively, understanding his disability and believing in his humanity. They have loved him with enthusiasm. The Christmas program typifies all that. Steve and the other students have a chance to shine. And they seize it! Joy runs wild.
When Sister Maureen finalized the cast, she might have guessed that Mary and Joseph would wave to the audience. Lots of kids do. But who could have foreseen their spontaneous burst of pride? And who could resist when Mary waved, pointed to the baby doll in her arms, and mouthed words to the audience? Who could have doubted, when she flashed a proud thumbs-up, that there was ever a more exuberant Mary, enjoying a more fully human moment of celebration?
When in the future I read Mary's words from Luke 1, "My soul glorifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior," this is the face I will want to remember.

Bob

Micro-Finance in Tanzania

On our recent trip to Tanzania, Celestin and I witnessed the life-giving world of micro-finance. Our hosts Justin and Anna, who work with us in ALARM, introduced us to Peter. "He was a thief and a drug user," said Justin, "but now he is a Christian businessman." The words of the gospel had marked the first part of Peter's transformation. No longer a thief and a drug user, he was the friend of God. But a ten dollar loan continued the dramatic change. Peter used the money to start roasting and selling peanuts, a process he is describing in this picture. Within a few weeks he repaid his loan, borrowed a little more, and began buying and selling other kinds of merchandise. Peter now employs a couple of young helpers and helps support needy families in his church.

We met another participant in the loan program, a mother of two whose husband had forced her and the children out of the house when she refused to convert to Islam. With a five dollar loan, she started selling tea at a local truck stop. When we visited, her business had become a tiny restaurant. She paid rent on that building and on a home for her children. She was also employing two women, paying as much in daily salaries as she initially borrowed just a few months ago.

I offer no grand claim that the carefully planted mustard seeds of micro-finance will change the continent of Africa. But I have seen hope and dignity restored to a handful of people made in God's image, and I am most grateful to have seen their faces.

Bob

Straddling Joy and Sorrow

Our families participated once again in the Joni and Friends family retreat, where we always make new friends and reconnect with what is really real in human experience. The theme of this year's retreat was Joy, and we emphasized in our teaching that in this life joy is always interlaced with sorrow. Each defines the other, but the boundaries remain constantly in flux.

Each participant wrote words on one mask describing joy and on another describing sorrow. Their identities remained private, but the masks were posted on a wall of tears and laughter. Doctors' diagnoses, financial circumstances, and church experiences populated both kinds of masks, sometimes in the same hand. Neither mask could tell the whole story.

Richard, pictured here with his friend and attendant, Tony, and his wonderdog, Troy Aikman, understands the straddle between joy and sorrow. During the singing of a closing song of praise, Richard shook with tears. Two young boys looked his direction. One asked, "Do you think that man is crying because he is sad? Or is it because he likes the song and is happy?"

The other boy thought a moment and replied, "Yeah."

"With praise and thanksgiving they sang to the Lord: ‘He is good; his love toward Israel endures forever.’ And all the people gave a great shout of praise to the Lord, because the foundation of the house of the Lord was laid. But many of the older priests and Levites and family heads, who had seen the former temple, wept aloud when they saw the foundation of this temple being laid, while many others shouted for joy. No one could distinguish the shouts of joy from the sound of weeping, because the people made so much noise. And the sound was heard far away" (Ezra 3:11-13).

Two Kinds of Joy

Pastor Edward Simiyu understands life's hard realities. His church, City Harvest, meets in Kibera, the largest slum in Nairobi. Perhaps as many as 1.5 million people live there in an area about the same size as New York's Central Park. Visiting with Edward at City Harvest's HIV testing center, I asked him how the church is able to help those who have the least amount of power in society. Posters feature smiling women and the word "Abstain." What do you tell the victims of spousal abuse or others who do not have the power to refuse?
"That is the whole point of micro-finance and micro-business," said Edward. "These programs empower women to negotiate and to create for themselves a new future."
Later, when he introduced some of the women being served by City Harvest, the tears on Edward's face evidenced a genuine pastor's heart. He rejoices in the creation of new futures.

The little boy who kept grinning at me during church was too young to understand the things that made Edward weep. He was full of spunk and innocent exuberance. For me, the sighting of delight was in seeing both their faces. The realistic pastor, no less than the giggly child, can smile and laugh to the glory of God.

Bob

Open Chested

Annie Dillard's historical novel, The Living, tells the story of several generations who settled in the area of Bellingham Bay, Washington. Those familiar with her Pulitzer Prize winning Pilgrim at Tinker Creek will recognize a similar pattern here. Looking closely at the details of life in all its beauty and brutality, Dillard offers her Yes to the collective package. Lots of people die in the book, continually reminding us that this life belongs to the living. We are called to turn toward that Life open chested as the Spirit of God lifts our gaze from the soul's incurvature upon itself.

Our friend, Eva, understands what it is to live open chested, and she is a big fan of The Living. That is why she and her husband, Josh, took a side trip to Bellingham Bay, where she struck her "grace pose." Maybe this will be the first in a growing collection!