environmentally friendly bombs?

So a friend told me about this today: Environmentally Friendly Bombs Planned

I'm sorry, but is that not the biggest oxymoron ever? Here's what it says to me: "Let's bomb people; but it's okay, because it won't hurt the environment."

I mean, I understand that nuclear bombs and such can really cause damage to the entire ecosystem. But do the human lives lost in those bombs not count?

What a world we live in.

one year

It's amazing how much can happen in one year.

This time last year, I was getting ready to go to South Africa, with no idea what I was getting in to. (more on the SA reflections in later posts).

Now, I have returned from there with a forever changed heart. Moved into an apartment...and now into a community house. Started working at a church and changed my membership. Traveled to El Salvador. Been in a musical. Made new friends. Started running. Said goodbye to a roommate and a good friend. Started *coughdatingsomeonecough*. Put a year of seminary under my belt. Discovered my love for both the church and the academic side of ministry. And through it all, learned a lot about myself, about God, and found new strength and confidence in it all, while realizing how much more I have to learn.

It's been quite a year. No wonder I'm exhausted now...is all of seminary like this? I think I need a break from all this change and transition...

heartbreak

I was poking around on the BBC website yesterday morning when I saw this: Johannesburg Violence. My friend Amber, who is still over there, also gave an update on her blog about the situation.

Apparently, groups of black South Africans are rioting and attacking immigrants, blaming them for the widespread poverty, hunger, unemployment, and homelessness. My heart is breaking.

This is where I lived, where a part of my heart still is. I walked some of those streets, possibly saw some of those people. And though I can understand the frustration and anger behind these acts (feeling helpless about your economic situation, your survival) and the appeal of creating a scapegoat...it is horrible.

I hate that people are living in fear. I hate that the violence of a few is controlling the lives of so many. I hate that they are in such a hopeless situation. I hate that they feel there is nothing they can do but react in violence. I hate the inequality and oppression that still exists there. I hate it, hate it, hate it.

I fear for the women that I worked with. I fear for Joyce, who is an immigrant herself. I fear for the children, who have already been exposed to so much violence.

And this is on top of the growing casualty list in Myanmar and China. So much violence, death, destruction, all around the world. And I so desperately want God to just come down and make it all better. But that's not how God works. And so I continue to wrestle with my own heartbreak and anger over the suffering of so many innocent people.

race thoughts

Yesterday was the annual Race for the Cure in Richmond. And for the first time, I ran in it. Yes, I ran a 5K. There were so many great things about it...

First, the actual running. It was so much fun to be out there with over 9000 other people, running and walking and all headed in the same direction. My friend Kate drove down to run with me, and it was great fun. At the 2.5 mark, the course turned into a half-mile hill...upwards, of course. I run in a flat neighborhood, and was not prepared for that at all. Halfway up the hill, I didn't think I would make it to the end without stopping (my goal for the race). I told Kate to go on without me, and she refused, telling me to keep running. And we kept running...straight to the finish line.

It was so nice to have that support, the encouragement to keep on going. Suddenly, all those passages in the Bible about running and races make more sense to me. I can understand the metaphors much more.

I also loved being a part of a greater cause with everyone else. Yes, we were all running, but it was all for breast cancer research. So many people were there in support of those who are fighting this disease, or in memory of those who have died from it. And though we can't cure it ourselves, we can stand there with those who have had to deal with it and be a support and encouragement for them.

when I grow up...

Today in children's church, we talked about the priesthood of all believers. Well, we never used that phrase, but basically we talked about how everyone is a minister. At one point, the children's minister had them all close their eyes and imagine what things they might want to do in the church when they get older. There were a variety of responses. But one little girl, who comes with her neighbors, raised her hand and said "I want to be a pastor."

Now, I don't know if you can discern a call at that age. But the fact that that little girl didn't think twice about it being a possibility, had no problem saying that, and that no one raised their hand to respond saying that she couldn't do it...that's something. I was so proud of her. That makes me feel good about our ministry, and where this church is (hopefully) going...