The Decadence of Unemployment

As I write to you from Dogtooth--my favorite coffee shop in the Springs--I can't escape the feeling of decadence that consumes one when sitting at a coffee shop on a Monday morning while the rest of the American population commutes to earn the all important dollar. It is the decadence of the unemployed. Other indulging patrons, I notice, are mostly in their late 50s to early 60s (retirees). Maybe one or two full-time moms stopping in after dropping the kids at school. But I am by far the youngest patron, and I hazard a guess the only one in the unemployed ranks who probably shouldn't be in those ranks.

In my arrogance, I often think of the unemployed statistic as the homeless guy who hangs out all day on the bench at Pikes Peak and Tejon. Or the factory-worker who was laid-off because his job was exported overseas. Or the gal who couldn't quite keep up with the technology revolution. But today I make-up a portion of that statistic. I am one of the 7.4 million people in this country listed as unemployed.

Does this frighten me? Yes and no. There is always the terror that I won't find another job or that it will take a significant amount of time for me to find another job. Finances, for better or for worse, contribute to majority of the stress in our lives. I can understand why financial strains are one of the major reasons for divorce in this country. And while I know that I can be a squatter on my parent's couch if absolutely necessary, I've entered that period of life where I would really like to be able to stand on my own two feet--wobbly as they might be.

So then it comes back to how much do I really trust God. The B&N gig was a position that pretty much fell into my lap--a happy coincidence that I fully believe was entirely orchestrated by God. And in the last few months, especially the last month, I am confident that the Lord guided me to the culmination of my B&N employment. So if God gave me the job and God took me out of it, then logical deduction says that God will provide the what that comes next. Of course that's assuming that God is logical--He is, but is not bound by human logic. That also assumes a certain amount of faith on my part.

There are some points about God and life with God to which faith comes naturally for me. For instance, I easily believe in God being divine creator who is still actively involved in creation. The evidence is all around me, and I do not have a scientific brain that feels the need to dissect all of life to either prove or disprove the theory of creation. Not to mention that once you listen to grass farmer Joel Salatin talk about the inner and outer workings of his farm, doubt in a Creator God seems fully implausible. But when Jesus says, "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? . . . But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well" (TNIV, Matthew 6:25,33)--that stretches my faith a little farther than it naturally wants to go.

I think that in quitting my job I was seeking first His Kingdom and His righteousness. But I'm not so sure that sitting in today's decadence that I am fully believing in the second part of Jesus' statement: and all these things will be given to you as well. I call it decadence because it feels in complete contradiction to what society would label as wisdom. And trusting God to provide as He provides for the birds of the air and the lilies of the field requires something of me that is higher than what is required of the birds and the lilies. In God's intelligent design of us, He gave you and me a higher consciousness than the rest of His creation. This produces a conundrum of faith. What is required of the birds to believe in God's provision is much less than what is required of us.

But I guess this is what faith is: "being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see" (TNIV, Hebrews 11:1). I know what I hope for, and it is much more than just a new job. I hope for and believe in God's deliverance of our world from the social injustices that plague it. I believe in the new earth that God has promised. I hope for a world fully reconciled to Him. These are things that cause me to come to God with faith and hope. I seek for surety in His promises. And if I sit in my decadence today, I trust that tomorrow I will sit within the well-spring of His provision. And perhaps today I also cry out with the boy's father in Mark 9, "Lord, I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!"

Adulthood

Adulthood. What is it really? And when do we arrive there? Is there a day we wake up and say, "Ah, adulthood, I have arrived" or is it something that in revelry of the past we stop and say, "oh, there was adulthood in that moment"?

When I was a child, I thought that being an adult meant being married and having kids. Adults drove cars, worked 9-5 jobs, served at church or in some other volunteer role. They went to kids' soccer games and watched R-rated movies. But those are not the things that define my adulthood if I am one. And honestly, I'm not sure what does define my adulthood. Maybe I'm just a miniature adult, playing at life. I'm still practicing to be an adult as I would practice playing the piano. The scary thing is that I gave up the piano. My overly-stimulated and short-attention-span child brain got bored and I quit. (Something I now regret.) But you can't quit adulthood the way you quit a musical instrument or a new hobby that doesn't quite spark your interest.

I guess the question that I'm asking is what do you do with us twenty-somethings who supposedly are in the realm of adulthood. What do you do with this new group of people who aren't choosing marriage and kids as early as our parents or even our older siblings? What do you do with the squatters, squatting on their parents' couch or a friend's couch? What do you do with our job-hopping, career-hopping, hoping for the next best thing selves? What do you do with brilliant, post-modern minds that can't seem to settle into what is essentially still a modern world?

We are drifting on the edge of a great something--a great unknown. We are emerging into something new that has never existed before. And some days I feel like James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause shouting to his parents and the world "You're tearing me apart!" And some days I believe that we are on the forefront of forever altering the way we all look at the world with eyes of justice and hope.

And then some days I wonder what it was to be Jesus. Did He feel an adult from that moment in the temple at ten-years-old? His baptism? The transfiguration? Was there a moment when He said, "This is real and I'm in this thing"? And in my wildest moments--moments of desperation and desire--I fall into Him. I fall into Jesus knowing that the quandary of adulthood is simply that. Adulthood is a quandary made up meaningless nothings without Him and purposeful, meaningful somethings with Him. When I loose myself in the dizzying meanderings of my post-modern, twenty-something mind, then I loose sight of Jesus. And child or adult, He is the stuff that life is made of.

Admitting to Fear

My biggest fear is to be alone--alone in the sense of relationally alone, not in the sense of being by myself. My second biggest fear is failure. It is this second fear that plagues me currently, and the fear of failure often begets the fear of being alone.

I am afraid that I have failed. I have not shared this on my blog or indeed with some of my closest friends because I am afraid they too will think I have failed. How have I failed? Or how have I possibly failed? I quit my job. I am officially sitting with two weeks left of work at the B&N and no job lined up after those two weeks.

Why did I quit my job? I quit on principle. I quit because my integrity and character were being called into question. I quit because of slander and false rumors that defamed my character and in the defamation of me, defamed God. I quit because I had been put in a threatening and borderline abusive position by upper management.

I do not regret quitting my job for these reasons. I believe that I made the best decision--ethically, morally, and spiritually. But now I am without employment, and I fear that means I have failed and moreover means I am a failure.

Fear is a strange thing. It can be the thing that keeps us motionless or the impetus for change. It can be the thing that holds us to weakness or the thing that encourages strength. Paul told Timothy that "God did not give us a spirit of timidity [fear], but a spirit of power, love, and self-discipline" (2 Timothy 1:10). I've got to be honest that the Spirit of God in me may lead to power, love, and self-discipline, but I'm afraid that my fleshly fear may often hinder that. That fear of waking up one day and finding myself completely alone possibly as a result of my failure is a powerful fear. And days come when I know and believe that the spirit of power, love and self-discipline God has anointed me with is so much stronger than the spirit of fear. But there are other days when my fleshly side wins out.

I know that my mother is reading this thinking that I put too much pressure on myself, and I do. Even here I am afraid of failure. I am afraid of really letting you see the deeper well-spring in me, and I am afraid of not doing justice to my current subject matter. I am my best and often my worst critic. And part of me wants to end this post by telling you that I know, trust, and believe in a God who is bigger than my fear and who can and does cast that fear out of me. And I do. But I'm also a messy human. And thank the Lord that He does provide that perfect love that casts out fear (1 John 4:18). And thank the Lord that He so graciously forgives me when I succumb to fear--even the same fear over and over again. So I won't end with a great profession of faith, but rather I'll tell you this: that I'm afraid that I have failed--which I recognize to be a lie--and I am afraid of what the future holds. So when you think on it, say a prayer for me, and hopefully I'll say a prayer for you sometime soon, too.

The Devil Came on Horseback

Last Saturday evening, I had the privilege of seeing the documentary The Devil Came on Horseback, a portrayal of the genocide currently occurring in Sudan's Darfur region. I am also in the process of reading Dave Eggers What is the What, a novel based on the life of Valentino Achak Deng one of the "Lost Boys" victimized by the Sudanese civil war that preceded the current violence. I highly recommend both the film and the book. The story of Sudan is an important story for you to know.

Here's some highlights for you to know:

• 450,000 are dead
• 2.5-3 million people are displaced
• 3.5 million depend on food aid

A little bit more: The Rwandan genocide lasted 100 days. The genocide in Darfur began in 2003, raging for the last five years. The US government declared the conflict in the Darfur region genocide in 2007. According to the Geneva Conference, any nation declaring a conflict to be genocide is required to take action to end the genocide. The US has done nothing past speech-making at the UN since the declaration. The UN itself has passed 27 resolutions, each of which was so watered-down that no action has taken place. China who gets most of its oil from Sudan continues to protect the government and keep any real action from taking place. The current conflict in Chad, Sudan's neighbor, is fueled by the Sudanese government who have aided the rebels in Chad. The conflict began on the day that European Union troops were scheduled to arrive to provide aid and protection for the Sudanese refugees. EU troop deployment has been delayed.

What you can do: Write to your senators and congressmen. Write to the president. Demand that the US move to end the conflict. There is much that we can do without forcing our own troops into further conflict. Become informed and inform others. Make sure that your investments are not in Sudanese oil. If you have connections with the coming Olympics, make sure that the conflict in Darfur is heard about everywhere. The Olympics are a great opportunity to pressure China to stop exporting oil and impose economic sanctions on the Sudanese government. Cut your own use of oil and boycott Shell Oil, the largest producer of oil in Sudan. Do not be afraid or too complacent to take action.

Above all, pray for an end to the conflict. I believe that God cares deeply for the Sudanese refugees, the raiders backed by the Sudanese government, and the officials of that government. We have a God of justice, love, and hope. These are the things that Sudan needs more than anything. Pray. And then pray again.

To learn more, check out the movie website. It's a great resource with links to several organizations involved in the fight to end genocide.

Juno

Last night I went to see Juno with a friend from work. Phenomenal movie. Best movie to come out this year in my humble opinion.

Juno has received flack for the ill-handling of certain social/political issues, i.e. teen pregnancy, adoption, abortion, and women's rights. But if you are looking for a political or social message in this film, then you are watching the wrong flick.

My interpretation: Juno was not intended to provide social commentary on any of the previously mentioned issues. Juno is a story about people. People with messy lives. People who choose to love one another in the midst of the mess.

What struck me as I walked away from the movie was that a person's ability to love despite the mess, in the mess, and sometimes because of the mess is one of the unique and precious traits that is only human. In fact, it's beyond human. This amazing ability to love exemplifies the image of God marked upon us--the image of the God who is love.

We are all very uniquely messy. And by messy, I mean that we all have external situations that cause us heartache or infuriate us, we all have faulty patterns of thinking that keep us in destructive patterns, we all have egocentric tendencies and self-addictions, and we are all hopefully flawed. Often times I grow tired of dealing with my own mess, and more frequently I tire of dealing with others' messy lives. But inevitably, because of God's grace and love that He lavishes on me and my mess, I find that often I still choose to love the messy people. I don't think we need to, nor do I think that it is healthy, to love the mess--but I do think it is essential to love the person surrounded by the mess. It's easy, but it is something that God gave us an innate ability to do.

When I can, I hope that I'll choose to love. I'm hopeful that love will become habit in my life--my first response no matter what the mess is.

"A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." John 13:34-35

Micah and the Silver

Recently in my readings, I met a guy named Micah (not the prophet). Micah is a really wise guy--well, wise by worldly standards. By God's standards he was pretty foolish. Micah's mom had 28 pounds of silver (13 kilograms), which Micah decided to steal to use no doubt for some creative business venture that would have doubled his profits in six weeks. But then Micah finds out that his mother has cursed the person who stole the silver. (I fully understand this reaction considering I sometimes desire to rain down curses on the people who steal my stapler off my desk at work.) Micah, not wanting to be cursed by his mom, confesses. Here's one of the loony parts of the story--Micah's mom then blesses her son and is so grateful that she commissions Micah to make an image overlaid with silver and gives it back to Micah. Now I'm all about parental forgiveness, Lord knows that I've needed it many times, but giving back what was stolen and having your son turn it into an idol doesn't go very far in teaching him any type of lesson for his bad behavior. Aesop would be ashamed of this mom for missing the chance to impart a moral at the end of the story.

The idol is crafted and becomes Micah's most valued household guide with its own shrine and priest and everything. In the end, the Danites (one of the tribes of Israel) stumble across Micah on their way to find a permanent settlement. They steal the idol and convince the priest to come with them and be a priest for a whole bunch of people rather than just one man. Ironic that what Micah originally stole was stolen from him along with his priest. That's one Aesop, zero Micah's mom, and -2 Micah. (You can check out the full story in Judges 17 & 18)

Now it would be the easy thing to say that the moral of the story is do not steal and that lesson is definitely in there, but I found Micah's story worth sharing for another reason. Micah and his mom choose to spend their silver on a very useless thing--an idol that can offer them no protection, cannot offer any sort of wisdom, cannot do anything besides maybe fall over and be stolen. (Both actions by the way require that some other force acts upon it; therefore, the idol truthfully cannot do anything on its own.) The idol is merely a possession that brought comfort to Micah--not that it could comfort Micah, but that Micah placed value in it and therefore found comfort.

It leads me to ponder how many useless things that I waste my silver on merely for comfort--the comfort found in owning and having material possessions surrounding you. Recently, with the help of the Lord, I conquered an addiction to buying DVDs. I literally had hundreds and watched about 20% of them (that number might be high, I may have chosen it to make me feel a little better about myself). Anytime I went to a place like Target, I was drawn to the DVD department. So many titles all under ten bucks. It can't hurt too much financially to buy a movie that "I really love" for less than ten bucks. Yes, but I have neighbors all over the world who are living on a $1 or $2 a day. And by the way, for $10 I could purchase a mosquito net and keep one of my neighbors from getting malaria. In fact, there are a lot of things that I could buy for $10 that would help one of my neighbors, locally and internationally.

I am struck as I think about Micah's story that the life Micah chose, the life I often choose, and the lives of majority of us in America look so radically different than the life that Jesus chose to live when He walked on earth. We like that Jesus hung out with the poor, and I know so many of us who do that very thing, following His example. But I think we like to skip over the fact that Jesus was poor. He didn't just feed the 5,000, he ate with them. Notice the disciples had to get the food from somebody else--they didn't have any food either. Jesus didn't own a home--He wasn't renting one either, but relying on the kindness of others. Jesus himself said that He had no place to lay His head. And when it came to the rich young ruler, Jesus told him there was only one thing that he lacked. (Can you imagine finding out there was only one thing that you lacked on the road to righteousness?! I bet the rich young ruler got pretty stinkin' excited at that statement, but wait for the whammy.) Jesus told him to go and sell everything he had and give it to the poor. (Matthew 19:16-30). Not the "one thing" he wanted to hear. Not the one thing that I really want to hear either, but I think that Jesus knows that material wealth gets in the way of a life lived out in the righteousness we are called to.

I'm still working out what this means for me and my journey. But I'm discovering that if I really desire to be a follower of Jesus, then things need to be merely things to me and self-denial really is a key to that kind of life ("deny yourself and pick up your cross" Luke 9:23-26). It's a hard lesson to learn in our consumeristic, self-ingratiating society, but I believe that it is absolutely essential to knowing and loving God as He desires to be known and loved.

Over the past few years I have developed a love for the comedic genius of Monty Python. I was first introduced to Monty Python and the Holy Grail in high school, but it has not been until "adulthood" that I have truly come to appreciate the irreverent, often poignant, comedy of Monty Python.

Last night I had the joy of seeing Spamalot, the hit Broadway Musical based on the original Holy Grail movie. Number one, I have never laughed that much or that hard while watching a musical. Number two, the cast was incredible. Number three, the sets fully captured much of Terry Gilliam's original artwork for the TV show and movies.

Here's the not so surprising part: I actually learned a valuable lesson from Spamalot. Due to a hilarious plot twist not in the original movie, King Arthur finds himself in need of a Jew. After giving up in his quest to find a Jew, Arthur finds out that his valued squire Patsy is a Jew. When Arthur asks why Patsy did not say something sooner, Patsy replies, "Well, it's hardly the thing you say to a well-armed Christian." For this he received uproarious applause and laughter. It was a very true statement both during the time of Arthur and our present age. And I couldn't help but wonder how many times the people in my life have avoided telling me something because "it's hardly the thing you say to a well-armed Christian."

My lesson from Spamalot: Learn to be a little more vulnerable, a little more transparent, a lot less judgmental, more willing to listen, less willing to talk, and maybe--just maybe--you'll discover the wealth of human life around you. Maybe if I'm not quite so well-armed, I might actually find that I can love my neighbor, be a friend, and spread a little more Jesus around. Maybe...

A week or two ago I picked up the new book on Mother Teresa. Come Be My Light is a compilation of letters and private writings of the "Saint of Calcutta." I have been awed by her awesome love for the Lord and her open willingness to abandon all in the world in order to be Christ's love to the poor and the cast-offs of the world. In the midst of her selflessness, God drew her more and more into Him, teaching her how He hurts for each and every person. The following letter she wrote to a priest who was experiencing a time of spiritual darkness in his own life:

Dear Co-worker of Christ,

You had said "Yes" to Jesus--and He has taken you at your word.--The Word of God became Man--Poor. Your word to God--became Jesus--Poor and so this terrible emptiness you experience. God cannot fill what is full.--He can fill only emptiness--deep poverty--and your "Yes" is the beginning of being or becoming empty. It is not how much we really "have" to give--but how empty we are--so that we can receive fully in our life and let Him live His life in us.

In you today--He wants to relive His complete submission to His Father--allow Him to do so. Does not matter what you feel--as long as He feels alright in you. Take away your eyes from your self and rejoice that you have nothing--that you are nothing--that you can do nothing. Give Jesus a big smile--each time your nothingness frightens you.

This is the poverty of Jesus. You and I must let Him live in us & through us in the world...

Keep giving Jesus to your people not by words but by your example--by your being in love with Jesus--by radiating His holiness and spreading His fragrance of love everywhere you go.

Just keep the Joy of Jesus as your strength.--Be happy and at peace.--Accept whatever He gives--and give whatever He takes with a big smile--You belong to Him--tell Him I am Yours & if you cut me to pieces every single piece will be only all Yours.

Let Jesus be the victim & the priest in you...

The Lost Art of "Goodbye"

I've always been baffled when watching movies when the actor ends his/her phone conversation without the word "goodbye" or any variation of. The conspicuous absence of a formality in all these phone conversations bothered me a great deal, until that is, I discovered that I too was curtailing my conversations.

It began with business conversations. I allowed for enough information to pass between me and the other conversationalist to sufficiently cover the appropriate subject matter and then ended with a click of the receiver (or a flip of my cell phone). The appropriate compliments remained--"have a good day," "talk to you soon," etc.--but the norm finale was missing. I soon found that this reduction had found it's way into my personal conversations. I do think that I usually still say goodbye to my mother, but I find that more often than not I leave off.

What does this do to the other person? Are they offended? Do they even notice? Has "goodbye" become a triviality for them as well? The land line at work I cannot hang up as quickly as my cell phone. This occasionally means that I hear the other person's "goodbye" as my own receiver is heading to the cradle. At that point there is no stopping the momentum. I must continue in the downward movement, but it does leave me with an awkward moment withing myself wondering if my lack of farewell was rude and offended the other person.

Then there is the larger question of what this truncation means. Does the absence of a single word really save any significant amount of time. I suppose if the word takes about 1/2 a second to say and I hold about 20 conversations a day, then I gain 10 seconds each day. Obviously not a real time-saver. Is it a lack of consideration for my fellow human beings? Possibly. Possibly I grow calloused to the formality of human etiquette. Or maybe there is no meaning at all to it.

I cannot say that I have any great desire to pick up the habit again. But yet I do wonder, am I loosing something that makes me fundamentally human--a respect for other humans, an acquiescence to the humanity of others. Is the lost art of "goodbye" the tipping point, the outward expression of a much deeper change in myself and in our society?

I truly hope not.

A Lesson in Pride:

I was out for my run, a habit that I am working on forming and making priority in my life. I knew that 9 o'clock at night was not the best time for a run, but it was the time that I had. The path was familiar, and I wanted to get a quick run in before it was too late.

Maybe it was just a lesson that running at that time of night with only the street lamps to light your way isn't the brightest of ideas, but the crag in the sidewalk certainly decided to teach me a lesson no matter the moral. My toe collided with it. I don't remember which foot. I assume the left because that is the direction I fell and rolled. I managed to fall in such a way as to do no worse damage than scraping the skin off my knee and elbow. I rolled into a sitting position and sat stunned.

I quickly realized that the only thing seriously injured was my pride. The girl walking behind who I had just passed hurried to ask if I was okay. I was, and I said so. I stood and begin to run/limp away in the direction of my apartment. It was a half concerned over the blood dripping down my leg/half embarrassed jaunt that got me home to where I could better inspect my wounds.

The thing is, I know how to run. And I knew my path. But I stumbled. Actually, I didn't just stumble, I pretty much catapulted myself into the ground. I stumbled because of a crag in the sidewalk I could not see in the poor light. It is likely, though I am rather clumsy, that with daylight I would not have fallen. And as I limped off, I know that God was saying to me "See. You need me."

So, God. See. I need You. Would you please keep reminding me of that over and over again?

A little over eight months ago, I read a book that severely altered the way I look at the world around me. The book, The Food Revolution by John Robbins, led to a significant lifestyle change for me.

You might recognize John Robbins name. His previous book, Diet for a New America led to the controversy that eventually resulted in Texas cattlemen suing Oprah for saying she would never eat another hamburger again. I haven't said that I will never eat another hamburger again. In fact, I hope to. But, it has been over eight months since I had a hamburger or any other meat product. Here's why:

I found out from Robbins and other research some startling truths about the meat industry and our over-consumption of meat. These truths are bigger than PETA and the various pathogens and carcinogens found in meat. The truth is that the meat industry has disastrous effects on our environment and world hunger.

Here's the facts:

Today more than one billion children do not have enough to eat. One child dies every three seconds from preventable diseases like diarrhea--diseases that are often the result of starvation. 80% of starving children live in countries that actually have food surpluses, but these children remain hungry because that food is used to feed animals. If everyone on the planet received 25% of their daily caloric intake from meat, there would only be enough food to feed 3.2 billion people. Drop it to 15%, and another billion could be fed. These figures leave 3-2 billion people without. It takes about 16lbs of grain to produce just one pound of edible flesh.

A major 2006 report by the United Nations summarized the devastation caused by the meat industry. Raising animals for food, the report said, is “one of the top two or three most significant contributors to the most serious environmental problems, at every scale from local to global. The findings of this report suggest that it should be a major policy focus when dealing with problems of land degradation, climate change and air pollution, water shortage and water pollution and loss of biodiversity. Livestock’s contribution to environmental problems is on a massive scale ….”

For me, I cannot reconcile the consumption of meat with my own moral values and my role as a human formed in the image of God. I hope that one day the meat industry will not wreak such havoc on world hunger or the environment. I look forward to the possibility of having greater access to free-range meats that are fed off the land they live on rather than acres of grain produced in deforested rain forest regions. But for now, I choose to not eat meat because I can't live with myself if I do.

For more information, check out any of these websites:
http://www.vegsource.com/
http://worldwatch.org/
http://www.foodrevolution.org/
http://www.earthsave.org/

The past week I spent a lot of time, blogging, talking, and posting on Facebook about the Farm Bill. Why the Farm Bill? It seems like a rather random topic that doesn't really concern me being that I am not a farmer and that my closest connection to farming was a farm that my mother inherited and later sold--a farm I never visited.

Actually, you would be surprised how much the Farm Bill does have to do with you and me. Included in the Farm Bill our programs such as Food Stamps and school lunch programs. The Farm Bill affects how we trade in food with other countries. It also affects every piece of food on your dinner table, the market you purchased that food at, and the farmer who grew the food. The topic greatly affects me and greatly concerns me.

As I've studied and involved myself in the lobbying process for "real" reform to the bill, I've discovered how complex a thing it is and how much it is actually hurting our country. The Farm Bill--originally put into legislation during New Deal to protect the family farmer and help him get back on his feet after the Dust Bowl and the Great Depression--currently does little that it was designed to do. Majority of the subsidies it offers to farms go to big industry farms that are making thousands to millions of dollars in profit. The family farm sees little of these subsidies and subsequently, family farms cannot compete with industry farms. This means that one of the iconic pictures of American lore, the family farmer, can barely support his own family and is often deep in debt and impoverished.

Not only does the Farm Bill do little for our own farmers, it impoverishes farmers in countries world wide. The Farm Bill allows for American grown product to be sold on the world market below production costs (mostly due to subsidies). This means that local farmers in various markets across the globe cannot compete and subsequently cannot provide for their own families. Causing many farmers to live in extreme poverty--a dollar or less a day. We actually set aside annual funds in the federal budget for the fines billed to the US by the World Trade Organization to pay for this practice. With real reform to the bill, we could end this ludicrous practice that wastes money on a yearly basis.

The Fairness Amendment to the Farm Bill was not passed despite a great bi-partisan effort. The Farm Bill, however, as it stands was passed in the House. We now move the fight to the Senate, looking for "real" reform and standing up for farmers around the world.

As I fought along so many wise men and women lobbying for a change, I have often been reminded of the words of Henry David Thoreau:

[Speaking of those opposed to slavery] "They hesitate, and they regret, and sometimes they petition; but they do nothing in earnest and with effect. They will wait, well disposed, for others to remedy the evil, that they may no longer have it to regret. At most, they give only a cheap vote, and a feeble countenance and God-speed, to the right, as it goes by them. There are nine hundred and ninety-nine patrons of virtue to one virtuous man. But it is easier to deal with the real possessor of a thing than with the temporary guardian of it...Even voting for the right is doing nothing for it. A wise man will not leave the right to the mercy of chance, nor wish it to prevail through the power of the majority" (Civil Disobedience).

For most of my life, I believe that I have been a "patron of virtue." I choose to no longer be such a patron. I do not call myself virtuous merely because I called my congressman's office a few times to petition him, but I feel that perhaps I might be on a path to being wise rather than leaving mercy to chance or wishing the good of the majority.

You have the opportunity! Make a difference now! Support real Farm Bill reform. Call your representatives by 12PM Eastern on Thursday, July 26th and ask them to support the Fairness Amendment.

For a quick overview of the Fairness Amendment, visit the site below:
http://www.one.org/node/463

Our Harry Potter Midnight Magic Party was a blast! We had around 1700 people in the store that night. It was pure craziness, but a lot of fun. I kept remembering valuable terminology from my PSP days, "controlled caos." Check out the pictures below.

And now for a round of "Did you know?"...

Did you know that you can bruise the pad of your thumb? You can. I managed to bruise the pads of both thumbs last night playing Frisbee. The left is considerably worse than the right. They now only hurt when I apply a significant amount of pressure. Mostly I'm only experiencing a slightly numb feeling.

I counted bruises this morning. 25 in all. I believe that only two or three are from the Frisbee. Most are from moving. More to come on that subject later.

And that concludes today's, "Did you know?"

As I'm sitting here checking the latest feeds to come through on Google Reader, I came across the latest post to the ONE blog. The most amazing thing! Technology is consistently improving my life and probably yours if you are reading this blog. But you and me--we're in a margin of only 10% of the world's people whose lives are truly being improved by the technology revolution. The kicker is that the other 90% are the one's who could benefit most from new and improved technology. Here's someone who is trying to do something about that. Check out what Cooper-Hewitt is doing at http://other.cooperhewitt.org/

I was thinking back to what was probably over 10 years ago when MTV started their campaign to encourage people to vote. I'm joining that campaign. But don't just vote! Know that your vote means more than just the next four years for America. It impacts the next four years for people all over the world. Know the campaign issues. Know about poverty. Know that your vote and the issues you address with the candidates over the coming months could mean lives saved all over the world. Go to http://www.onevote08.org/ to find out how you can be involved.

It's time for my monthly post! Yay, I know you are excited!

The past month has been full of exciting times. Here's the rundown:

1) I purchased tickets for my first opera, La Boheme. Then on the day of the opera, I came down with the stomach flu and had to miss it. I here from my friends that it was amazing.

2) I did get my money's worth out of the next set of tickets to see Aqualung perform at the Bluebird in Denver. If you are not familiar with Aqualung, check out their music at aqualung.net. An amazing concert with a slightly off opening band. Every member of Aqualung is incredibly talented. We were awed and amazed at their musicianship. The fact that they're British and have wonderful accents didn't hurt either.

3) I went to a screening for an Indie movie, Bella, due out in August. Several of the producers and the lead actor (proclaimed the Latin Brad Pitt, and yes, he was that attractive) were there. It was very interesting to here them express their heart about the movie and their passion behind why they made it. The movie won best picture at the Toronto Film Festival. I highly recommend that you go see it in August. I plan on seeing it again. The version we saw was rough cut, and I would really like to see the finished product. You can find out more about the movie here.

4) Barnes & Noble update: Last weekend we had Kevin J. Anderson, Rebecca Moesta, Darth Vader, and four storm troopers in to celebrate the 30th anniversary of Star Wars. If you are not familiar with Kevin and Rebecca, they have written several of the Star Wars books and Kevin is a writer for the Dune series. Great people. We had a lot of fun that day. I also had Ted Dekker in to sign his latest novel, Skin. Previous to Skin, Ted's books were all classified as religious fiction. Skin marks his move into regular fiction. Interesting guy. I had a great talk with his publicist, and we will likely have Ted in for future signings. It was the largest signing I've done since coming to B&N.

Other than fantastical events, we are approaching the end of school, so I'm working with several different schools to spend the remainder of their budget. It's kept me pretty busy. We're also moving into our summer reading program. If you have elementary aged kids, stop by your local B&N and pick up a reading journal. When your child reads any eight books, fills out the journal, and takes it back to B&N, they can get a free book. This year we are partnering with the Magic Tree House Series. Your kiddo could also enter to win a signed copy of the next in the series due out in August.

And then there's Harry Potter. If you haven't heard, book 7 comes out in July. July 21st to be precise. When it's all over, if I never here the name Harry again, I will be a very happy woman.

That's the update. Have a great day!

I have always said of myself that I do my part. I recycle. I don't turn my heat up too high or the AC down too low (a smaller carbon footprint, you know). I support a child through Compassion International. I tithe. I give out my spare change. I sign petitions. I vote. I support causes I believe in. And I just think that all in all I'm a good person.

But then I keep coming back to this idea, this realization, that I am completely and totally addicted to myself. I'm addicted to my book buying habit. I'm addicted to my television and my movie collection. I'm addicted to my cozy little apartment. I'm addicted to the convenience of my SUV and the fact that it can haul just about anything I want it to. I'm addicted to my Starbucks. I'm addicted to the convenience of life, and I simply just don't want my life to be inconvenient. And for all my causes and all my good works, I remain addicted to myself.

But the thing is that life is just a little bit inconvenient. I was reminded of that as I watched Hotel Rwanda tonight. Life is a little, actually very, inconvenient. It was inconvenient for the West that "acts of genocide" were committed in Rwanda, just as now it is inconvenient that similar acts are occurring in Sudan. It is inconvenient that millions are dying of starvation and AIDS. It is inconvenient that our own western cities have homeless, drug addicts, and impoverished people. It is inconvenient that are school systems are failing. It is inconvenient that I can't vote online but rather have to drive the few blocks to my neighborhood polling area. It is inconvenient that my produce is being genetically altered and pumped full of pesticides without me being fully aware of the dangers. It is inconvenient that our world is slowly diminishing thanks to the industrial era. It is simply inconvenient.

And because of my self addiction, I choose to live with those inconveniences. Sometimes it is more inconvenient for me to care about those inconveniences than it is for me to pray my little prayer, send my little well wishes, and pretend that my life is so very convenient.

But then there's the other thing. Despite my self addiction, despite the inconveniences, I also have to admit that we simply weren't created for this world. We were created for Eden. We were created for harmony and peace. We were created for perfect relationship with God. We were created for a world without inconvenience and addiction.

So maybe that gives me hope. Hope that there actually is something more than my addiction. Hope that there is actually something more to this world than inconvenience.

So am I a cynic, addicted to myself, addicted to convenience? Yes. But am I hopeful? Well, I want to be. After all, I recycle.

Most recent occurrence, I turned 25.

My day was completely relaxed. A nice lunch at Olive Garden with a few friends. Beautiful blue skies. Reading and more reading. Completely low key. Completely wonderful. I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

Thanks to all who shared birthday wishes. I hope to get back to each of you soon.

So now that I am 25, I must be considerably wiser. I must know something more than 24. Not sure that I do. I know that I am 25. I know that reading and hiking are the most enjoyable past times. I know that people are important and relationships with people even more important. I know that living healthy is about what you put into your body, how you exert your body, and the impact that body makes on the larger whole of our planet. I know that I can choose to give or choose to keep and that more often than not choosing to give is the more rewarding option. I know that I actually know nothing, or at least very little, and I know that is generally the status of most of humanity.

I'm 25, and I'm choosing to live my life. And maybe one of these days, I will figure out exactly what that means.