Four H's To Help Christians

I'm at a crossroads.

What I do next will define a good portion of my life for the next year or so. I have a choice to make, and deciding what to do is never easy.

As Christians, we're told that God has a plan for our lives. Sometimes the idea of this is comforting, and sometimes it's stressful. What's the plan? We know some basic instructions, like, "Love your neighbor as yourself," but who is my neighbor, and how do I do that? Unless you're an ancient Bible hero, you usually aren't told what the plan is, at least not specifically in plain speech.

When it comes to big decisions, deciding what direction to go from faith perspective can be difficult. Do I seek out that new job? Do I move to that new house? Do I go on that trip or reconnect with that person or go off birth control? What's the best plan, here?

I tend to live my life one project at a time, and when a project is done I often find myself in a state of limbo between what I've done and what I'm going to do next. Personality tests tell me I love change, so it's easy for me to keep my options open. I find myself open to new career paths and willing to see where any new rabbit trails lead. This can make the decision even harder.

Over the years I've made some good decisions and some bad ones, and I've always felt like there were certain characteristics that were common across all the good decisions I've made. Last night my owl brain was awake, and I thought of a clever name for these characteristics, as it all suddenly became crystal clear to me in the wee hours of the morning.

There are four principles that are true of every good path I've chosen to go down. I think these principles are also true of every good decision those ancient Bible heroes made thousands of years ago. 

When making decisions I've started to ask myself four questions, which I'll call for clever-catch-phrase sake, the Four H's:

Hard, Humble, Hungry and Human.

When faced with deciding what direction to go in, I ask myself if the direction is Hard, whether or not it requires me to be Humble, whether or not it requires me to be spiritually Hungry (to rely on God more than I usually do), and whether or not it's Human-oriented, as in humanitarian, i.e. will people benefit from it?

Let's break down the "Hard" principle, the one that says that God's calling is always challenging. 

God has never called me to do something easy, something that came naturally. Why? Because I already do those things. I don't need to be called to do them, because I already do them without thinking. I'm a natural at those things, therefore, no calling needed.

God likes to challenge and stretch me because He knows it's imperative to my growth. So I ask myself, Is it hard? Does it force me out of my comfort zone? Is it a difficult task? 

Generally speaking, the things that I've felt called to do contain a level of inconvenient difficulty that has stressed me out. This is true of every Bible character who encounters God;

God says to Moses, "Even though you have a speech impediment and are wanted for murder, go back to Egypt, speak to Pharoah, and free my people."

God says to Esther through Mordecai, "Even though you're came from rags to become the Queen living in a palace, risk your 'good' life to save my people."

God says to Abraham, "Leave everything you have and go to this foreign land and I will make your offspring my people and they will be blessed."

God always says, "Do something hard, take a risk, trust me, it'll be worth it."

This might be hard to hear, but chances are if it's easy and comes naturally, God is not calling you to do it.

The second "H" is Humble. A truth of every action God calls me to is that it takes a level of humility to complete. This means not puffing myself up, bragging about my own abilities and my own talents. It means humbling myself to the task before me. My natural proclivity is to do the thing that boosts my ego, that makes me proud of myself in relation to others. My default-mode is to viciously defend my self-worth and importance. So I ask, Will this humble me?

God has never called me to elevate myself over others because it's something I already naturally do, and I already know He calls me to do Hard things. The Hard thing is putting similar value on others as I do myself. Oh man, it's a really Hard thing to be Humble.

The best results have always occurred when I've lowered myself. It's in these times I realize that by putting others ahead of me, by excusing myself from the competition of life, God is pleased. Good things happen when God is pleased.

You need only to look at the life and death of Jesus to see how much God values humility. Everything He calls us to do contains some level of Humble.

The third "H" is Hungry. 

Will this decision make me more Hungry for spiritual connectedness to God and the people around me? Will it cause me to rely on my faith more? To be more prayerful? 

Hungry is connected to both Hard and Humble, because Hungry recognizes that hard things can't get done without God's blessing. Hungry causes us to want more of God in our lives. Every good thing I've ever done has caused me to pray a whole lot more than I usually do. The situation made me rely on God more. The Hardness of it made me more Humble, and both of those aspects made me more Hungry.

The fourth "H" is an important one, one that stands alone as a key principle to any choice God is calling you to make:

Does it help other Humans? 

Flash back to those paraphrases from the Hard category, where God is calling those ancient Bible heroes to do hard things. At the end of each statement, you'll see that it's always for the sake of people. God always says, "Do this hard thing to help people." God never calls you to do a hard thing that helps only yourself. Other lives are affected by our decisions.

Our spiritual lives are intended to be lived from the inside out, we are supposed to work on ourselves for the sole sake of, sorry for the cliche, "shining a light" to others. We are made to bless others. All throughout the Bible, God calls people to do Hard things so that other Humans can benefit.

So I ask myself, Does this allow God to use me to influence others for good? Could doing this help people? Or am I focusing inwardly because of fear? 

Basically, I need to know that my motivations for making a decision aren't selfish. I know that God cares for others, and anything He has ever called me to do has been to impact others through my work, presence and abilities. Humans are the most important thing to God, as displayed by the life and death of Jesus, and God will always call you to helping people.

I'm not saying that if you employ the tactic of the Four H's your decisions will be instantly easier to make. I'm not trying to cheapen something as nuanced and intricate as those big Pro-vs-Con life decisions, and I definitely don't want to simplify what is supposed to be difficult. Good decisions are hard to make. Life is complex and hard and it matters very much how you choose to live it. 

I simply wanted to share with you a tool that helps me sift through my options, and I wanted to encourage you that although the choice that requires more prayer, more humility, and more service to others is ridiculously Hard, I believe that you will live a better life by choosing it.

The Four H's have been on my mind a lot lately as I try to find my way through the murky limbo I'm in. I think it's good practice in these times to do an inventory on what I believe in, why I believe it, and why it matters.

This is not by any means a complete thought as I've only just fleshed it out in the last few hours. I don't mean to present it as an all-encompassing doctrine for choice-making, because I'm sure there are variables based on different situations, but I wanted to share my opinion in the hopes that it could help you guys make some decisions you are being faced with. 

The practice of writing it down really helps me to figure it out, and the knowledge that you might be reading along really helps me clarify what I believe, so thank you for that.


 

Haiti

Last night the band and I returned home after spending a week in Haiti. My mind is reeling with the places and the people I saw there, so I wanted to share with you some of our experiences in an effort to save these memories.

We arrived at the airport in Port-au-Prince, Haiti on November 3rd. There we met Tom (pictured above), a local missionary who lives with twenty two Haitians in Bon Repos, most of them boys he's adopted from a local orphanage and surrounding villages. He's trained them as local leaders and they work for him as an interpreters, ministry and outreach coordinators and teachers. When we arrived at Toms compound (a walled off property containing 3 houses) we were met by the boys. Their ages range from around four to the mid-twenties. We greeted them in the courtyard and as we shook hands their faces beamed with excitement. It was clear that they enjoyed visitors, and even more clear that we looked a little different from the usual church groups. After playing some basketball we were escorted to our rooms, which the boys usually sleep in but give up to visitors whenever they arrive. Over the course of the week we learned the names, stories and dreams of these guys, and after a week I can honestly call them my friends. Never have I met more sincere, loving and driven group of people, each of them are concerned with bettering their community. They truly are the hope for Haiti. On top of all that many of them have a great sense of humor, and we spent much of the week laughing with them.

The average long-term missionary lasts about two years in Haiti, Tom has been there for over fifteen years. His goal with his ministry is to replace himself, and not with white folks, but with Haitians. Haitians who would otherwise have been orphaned and abandoned, left to live in poverty, he gives them the opportunity of an education, a job and a better life. Coupled with a lifelong dream of sharing the Gospel, Tom is driven to meet the needs of the poor. Food, water, shelter and love are among his top priorities. He believes you can't successfully share the Gospel with someone who is sick and starving unless you first show love by meeting those basic needs. I couldn't agree more. Missionaries are often times portrayed as folks who go into third world countries with the priority of making converts, ignoring the basic needs of the people. Jesus Himself served the poor with his life, commanding us to do the same, but we sometimes hear stories of missionaries ignoring verses like this:

"But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed." (Luke 14:13)

Tom is not one of those missionaries. He truly believes in the commandment to love his neighbor, and because of his sacrifice his neighbors are impoverished Haitians. He isn't solely concerned with their spiritual needs, although the Gospel is the reason he's there. His heart breaks when the innocent die from preventable causes. Through tears he tells us stories of people he's loved and lost. He tells us of the thirty-some-odd children who live at the garbage dump on piles of garbage, sifting through the waste of one of the poorest countries of the world. The poorest of the poor. He tells us he would love to take all thirty of those children home, to give them food and safety and an education, to raise them with hope and faith. Slowly, as he gets more people committing their finances to Jesus In Haiti Ministries, Tom is able to take more orphans and poverty stricken children home with him. Three of the boys we met were recent additions to his family. They've already learned to call him "Papi," and although their english is still poor after only a few weeks they're learning quickly. The boys go to school daily for an education they wouldn't get otherwise. Schools cost money, and an education is out of the question when you don't know where your next meal is coming from. At Tom's they get a family, consistency, discipline, food and an education. They get a second chance at life.

It's a working system. I spent much of the week with Johnny, who acts as Tom's translator. Tom found him when he was fifteen, living with three other boys in a shelter with two cots, the boys would take turns with the sleeping arrangements each night, two on the cots and two on the floor, and then they would switch the next night. They stuck together to gather food, if one boy would find some he would take it home and share it so they could all survive together. These boys have been orphaned by parental death or abandonment, they've all seen and lost so much due to poverty and sickness, but their sense of family is still so strong. Ten years later, at twenty-five, Johnny works for Tom as a full time outreach director, worship leader, translator and charismatic funny man. You'll see a lot of him on the video we are currently editing, singing "The Coldest Heart" at the top of his lungs with a Creole accent (He loved to improvise the words, "Woa-oooh-ooh-ohhh I'm losing weight! I used to be fat.... etc. It is always followed by laughter.) He speaks great english and is passionate about helping boys just like him. The stories go on and on about the boys Tom has raised. Because of him, where they came from and where they are going are dramatically different places. Thats the incredible thing about what Tom does. He doesn't take capable, educated Haitians and put them to work in the poor villages. He takes poor, uneducated Haitians, invests his time and resources into them, loves them like his sons and daughters, and then turns them lose. They have a natural passion and empathy for the people, and it's beautiful to see them have the opportunity to give back.

Tom's ministry has what he calls the "Five Points of Light." They are the house, the orphanage, the garbage dump, the church, and the school. He has dreams that each of these "Points of Light" will act as such, and that they will be beacons of light in a community which desperately needs their physical, emotional and spiritual needs met. The orphanage lives on a committed sum of donations of about $3000 a month. This takes care of and feeds around 125 orphans. It's not nearly enough. Tom thinks that they need about $10,000 to do it properly, but God seems to provide on the meager donations they receive. Tom said when he first discovered the orphanage, the children were sick and starving, everyone was laying around in a comatose state. They hadn't eaten in days. He teared up as he told us the story of how that day he stood in front of them and pledged, "Help is on the way." Since then they've received support, and because of that support the kids have one meal of rice and beans each day. The point is that there are a lot more children who need help, but they can't afford to take any more in. The orphanage is already three times over capacity for the support they are getting.

They recently bought a field and pitched a large tent. The tent houses the school during the week, the youth group on Fridays and the church on Sundays. They are in the process of planning to erect a building, but there is still money to be raised in order to start the project. The school contains around 100 children who get a well rounded and proper education (some of the other schools use textbooks from Cuba, which claim quite a few falsehoods about America and are quite biased in favor Cuba, it was funny to hear some of those falsehoods and even funnier to hear that Haitians actually believed them). The children at the school would otherwise be running naked (or close to it) in their respective villages, with no money for an education or food for that matter. The school also provides water and a meal each day for the students, which is something the other charging schools do not provide. The teachers are paid $100 a month, which may seem like a meager salary but is actually more than what most teachers make. Tom is concerned with getting the best teachers for his kids, teachers with the right attitude and heart for Haiti. Each year they graduate about fifteen students, which frees up room in their lowest grade to accept fifteen more. Tom says there's a long waiting list to get in. They wish to accept everyone, but right now they're at capacity financially and space-wise. The point is there is plenty more good to be done there, for a small monthly financial commitment anyone could allow for starving and impoverished child to receive a meal, water and an education. For next to nothing we can give a child a future. I've been there so I know it works, I've seen my own $25 a month at work in the orphanage, every dollar being spent on the kids. In seeing that I am challenged and convicted to send more money. I don't have much, my debt to wealth ratio is about 20 to 1, but compared to these kids I live in heaven. I can sacrifice at least few more meals out a month so another couple kids can eat rice and beans once a day.

Tom never asks for money. He doesn't like leaving Haiti, but once in awhile he has to head back to the States to raise money. When he does he leaves JiHM in the trustworthy hands of his boys, who run everything smoothly. He goes around to churches in the US to try to raise support, and how is does it is simple: He tells stories. He says what he does, and leaves it at that. He never asks for money, but after hearing about the need people are generally led to help out. He smiles as he tells me the small churches give more. I smile as I tell him I know. The church I go to of around 150 people is the sole source of support for the orphanage on a weekly basis. Without our meager church, over 125 kids would be be starving. Now they can eat, play and live, what an amazing thing! The thing is there is always a need, no matter how small your church, how little you have, you can always make a difference in the lives of people who have less than you. You can make a real difference for real people.

The thing that always blows me away about other cultures is how similar we all are. We all want the same things: hope, health, peace, love and opportunity. We all struggle with the same pressures, some of the specifics are different, but the emotional struggles remain the same. One night I drove to the store with Claudy, the 21-year-old whose room Robbie, Alan and I stayed in. He told me about meeting his girlfriend, about how he used to be and about how she changed him and continues to challenge him. I told him about my relationship, and how much that really paralleled with my life. We talked about honesty and how important it is in a relationship, and discussed much of the same things we've learned from our girls. The thing that always strikes me is how alike we all are. From first world to forth world, from black to white, we all are so very human and real.

The people we met aren't just faces on a television, or on a sponsor packet, they're real people with unique personalities who are loved by God. They are just like you and me. The only difference is that they were born in a third-world, and we were born a first-world. They were born into perpetual poverty, and we were born into opportunity. We have an opportunity to help them, and you can bet we're going to take it. I don't know how exactly, but we're brainstorming possibilities to really garner support for JiHM and Tom's mission. Even if our role is purely educational, our goal as a band will be to see dramatic growth and support for Haiti in general, in the right places and in the right ways. Tom's way seems to work, so we're going to back him.

For more info on JiHM visit http://www.jesusinhaiti.org/

To contribute financially send to:

JiHM

Suite # 155

10214 Chestnut Plaza dr.

Ft. Wayne, IN 46814

ATT: Pat Hinen

My Own Worst Enemy

This one might read more like a journal entry. If you are expecting an article you'll probably read this and assume that I'm a crazy narcissist. I believe one must only talk about ones self (to such an extent) in the context of a biographical journal entry. If this were an article I would have thrown in an extra amount of self deprecation in order to assure you of my humility. (I'm only sort of joking.) I apologize in advance if I ramble as I let my mind wander.

I grew up third of six. Our family adopted my two younger sisters (number seven and eight) when I was about eleven, so for the most part I was smack dab in the middle. Like most middle children I felt somewhat overlooked so I acted out in order to receive the attention I craved (or at least thats what they told me I was doing). If anyone challenged me I would fight them back as if my life depended on it. Often times my weapon of choice was a handful of the smooth rocks from the playground at Quilchena Elementary School in Richmond, BC. Because of this I spent most of my lunch hours across the desk from our lovely principle, Mrs. Thorton. She was terrifying. She must have been well over six feet tall, and her stature and spirit made her the most intimidating creature this second grader had ever laid his eyes on. With her white hair pinned back tight against her scalp and her gigantic, unblinking eyes penetrating deep into my soul, she'd stare for what seemed like hours before articulating a very sinister, "Do you know why you're here, Matthew?" I always knew why, but I could barely speak. I was afraid to. My lips would shake and my tongue would get twisted. A huge lump would well up in my throat and I would feel like crying. I couldn't look at her without wanting to cry, so I would glance away. "Look at me!" She'd scowl. This would go on daily. Some mornings I'd fill up with dread and fake sickness to get out school, because I knew I would end up in that chair, across from 'the witch' as she attempted once again to steal my soul. It was probably all my fault, but I never saw it that way. I was just defending myself. The punishment was never on the kid who threw the first stone, it was always on the kid who threw back. That was me, in my mind anyways.

I remember one of my most recent victims found me at recess and jumped on me, pinning my shoulders with his knees and pummeling my face with his fists. A teacher broke it up and told me to get back to my class. My attacker didn't even have to go to the office. It seemed there was no justice for me. I was almost heartbroken with humiliation. For weeks I tried to get him to fight again. I wanted a rematch. I wanted to win. Instead he befriended me which was even more disheartening. He didn't want to fight, he was sorry. "Let's be friends," he'd say, which was something very hard for a middle child to turn down. It was terrible. He was the hero, and there was nothing I could do to win.

I was looking to be at the top of a hierarchy. To get respect and attention through violence is probably hard-wired into a lot of boys, especially boys who have brothers. I saw myself as 'Defender of the Weak' but I think teachers just saw me as a tyrant. I remember in 5th grade having to see the school counselor on a weekly basis. I think having to be called out of class for counseling is one of the most humiliating things a kid can go through. She (the counselor) would talk about how life is a road and there are speed bumps in it, and I would laugh because I thought she sounded crazy.

As I grew I slowly realized I could get attention by being good at things. My family is naturally competitive, so when it came to life as a contest I just decided that I was going to win. Anything that impressed people I would learn to be good at. As a kid, it was drawing comic books. To this day I have eight notebooks full of characters and stories I created (I do believe this was a sincere passion of mine, but I know it was partly to impress my older brother). I had dreams of becoming like my hero, Jim Lee, a famous comic book artist (not to be confused with Stan Lee, who's art is sub-par in comparison). My friends would be impressed with my work and I would feel gratified. I collected sports cards, coins, pogs and miniatures and would organize them meticulously. I would do anything to obtain a certain sense of worth and wealth.

I remember one summer in 6th grade I decided I was going to be like Michael Jordan. I spent hours in the driveway shooting a basketball. To this day, I'm terrible at basketball. I love to play it, but I'm not so good. I don't know where it came from, this delusional self confidence, but I had it. For awhile, I was king of the nerds collecting and creating comic books, websites and playing online games. When that wasn't enough I became an athlete. I was always pretty limber, I think growing up with a trampoline in the back yard helps, but I remember for a few years in my teens I really focused on sports. I went to State in swimming and Districts in track and field. My delusional self-confidence eventually became haughty arrogance, which you can read about in my blog post titled "One Small Story of Regret." The contest academically became how much work can I NOT do and still maintain a good grade? I had set myself up to be pretty good at everything that seemed to matter to people. However, my motives weren't entirely pure. Until I found music.

I always loved to sing, and when I was twelve my mom decided she was going to get me real voice lessons. The guy who gave them was in a nineties Christian pop band called The Suspenders. I was a huge fan. He taught me how to warm my prepubescent voice up and make weird noises. After about 4 lessons I had tracked vocals and harmonies to a very cheesy rendition of, "I Swear" by John Michael Montgomery (Or All 4 One, which was the version I preferred). I remember free-styling the harmonies, and Ashley (my instructors name) would laugh and say, "Wow! That was jazzy!" I had no idea what he meant, but I took it as a compliment.

I think the first song I wrote was when I was thirteen or so on my moms classical acoustic guitar. It was when I was in my early teens that I discovered rock music. On my 16th birthday my mom bought me my first electric guitar: a blue Fender Squire. I still have it. On it I learned to cover numerous songs, but that bored me quickly so I went back to writing my own. They sounded a lot like Blink 182. Sorry if I'm rambling as I remember, there is a point to this I promise.

What was different about my musical talents was that I didn't know if I was good, and I wasn't about to show off to people just in case I was laughable. For the most part I continued writing songs alone, showing them only to my brother or my close friends when they implored me to entertain. They'd smile and say it was good, but I wasn't sure I believed them. Music was different than anything else I had attempted. It was personal. My motives weren't to impress anyone. I didn't need people to hear it. I didn't need approval. I needed to write because I needed to express myself through this new outlet. I needed it's comfort. I lived for the sound of my voice over the guitar chords and the instruments that swirled around in my head along with the song. I would sometimes spend the hours at school playing songs in my head, and then run home and figure them out with the guitar (I still do this now, except I sing them into my phone so I don't forget). I could hear these songs done, every part working together to create a symphony of wonderful music. In retrospect I was ambitious, uncultured and my songs weren't very unique, but I FELT them. I needed them.

Two things made me cool at parties in my late teens. The first was that I could do a back flip off of a car. The second was that I could play the guitar and freestyle songs about peoples moms. They loved it. You don't even have to be clever. Whenever you sing made up words in a catchy melody to chords, people tend to find it genius. These were essentially the two things that set me apart from my friends who were all athletes, nerds and artists to some extent. I was one in five guys in my class who played guitar, and one in two who wrote songs. I felt unique in that sense. Music started to define me socially as well as something personal that I relied on. So after being a delinquent, a nerd, an athlete and a stoner (I left that part of the story out), I decided I was a going to be musician.

The point of that long recap was to describe a picture of myself that I believe is at war constantly with my other half. My first half is this compulsion to get better, to learn more and be the best at whatever lies before me, something I probably developed out of insecurity but something inherently 'me.' I think everyone has this to some extent, and for the most part it is a productive attribute, although sometimes it can be consuming and destructive. My other half is for the most part self-involved, complacent laziness. "I don't CARE!" Is what this half of me childishly screams. Those are the three words Kristie hates to hear. While we were dating in my teens I said them a lot. They helped me detach, but oh, how they are deadly. Sometimes I am truly surprised as to how she put up with me for so long.

Half of the time, I would much rather watch TV than write songs, record music, or spend quality time with people I love (i.e. do productive things). Even though I understand the latter is an incredible source of joy, it seems I'd much rather fill my time with nothingness. I get easily caught up in pointless, mindless hobbies like playing Mafia on Facebook, games on my iPhone, or marveling at Bob Ross' wizardry on PBS. On one hand I want to be good at everything, and on the other hand I'm much to lazy to do the work. I settle for the cheap thrills that always leave me empty. In this sense I'm my own worst enemy. I've heard it said, however politically incorrect, that there are two types of people: indians and Chiefs. There are those who read the news and those who make the news. Those who are envious and those who people envy. The thing about being a Chief is that it takes hard work, responsibility, dedication, commitment. Even when it sucks and you don't feel like it. It's trying and failing and trying again. Those who lead aren't those who are smarter, it's those who have an abundance of motivation, positive outlook and the compulsion to vacuum the heads of those smarter than them. One half of me wants to be this better person, and the other half isn't concerned in the slightest. If my life was Pinocchio I'd be a half-donkey with one foot in Pleasure Island.

This is part of what they call the 'duality of man.' Good and evil. Ecstasy and enmity. Inspiration and desperation. For every peak there is a valley. The only thing that is going to hold me from my potential is myself. I can stay in the valley for as long as I wish, because its always a forced decision to climb back up the mountain. Man, the valley sucks too. Whenever I spend too much time filling myself with nonsense I self-destruct. Whenever I cut the nonsense out I feel a lot better. Why is it that I cannot make that decision every time? It's such a no brainer. Half of me says, "This will not fill you," and the other half says, "Might was well try anyways."

I love this quote from the Apostle Paul, who struggled openly with the same issue in Romans 7 (The Message):

^4-16I can anticipate the response that is coming: "I know that all God's commands are spiritual, but I'm not. Isn't this also your experience?" Yes. I'm full of myself—after all, I've spent a long time in sin's prison. What I don't understand about myself is that I decide one way, but then I act another, doing things I absolutely despise. So if I can't be trusted to figure out what is best for myself and then do it, it becomes obvious that God's command is necessary.

^17-20But I need something more! For if I know the law but still can't keep it, and if the power of sin within me keeps sabotaging my best intentions, I obviously need help! I realize that I don't have what it takes. I can will it, but I can't do it. I decide to do good, but I don't really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don't result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time.

Paul is talking about this in reference to the Law, as in the Jewish Law. He's basically saying that humans can't follow the law perfectly, they will always fall short, so we need Jesus to clear our names where we fall short. He's saying its good to know the right thing, but its not enough to know it, because even if you know it it's impossible to do all the time: I decide to do good, but I don't really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway.

I guess the struggle is inspiration and focus. Acting on the inspiration of your conscience saying, "This won't fill you" and then focusing on the things that will.

I have a feeling that I will never master that.

The Human Dichotomy

What kind of crazy messed up world do we live in where the wounded cut themselves, the lonely push people away, and the tired can't sleep? Where people struggling to live are slowly killing themselves with too much food, tobacco, alcohol and other drugs? Where medicine is a killer; Oxycontin is the biggest gateway drug to heroin addiction. Where there is more than enough food to go around, but innocent children starve to death daily because of greed. Where those who desperately want to be loved continue to settle for the empty, soul sucking opposite. Where christians cause pain rather than salvation. Where those who have been blessed choose to curse others. 

We are all in the same boat, not one of us has a leg to stand on. Our pocket change could save lives, but we still keep it in a jar. We serve our fat stupid selves first, and then we put the pennies we have left over in the box at the McDonald's cash register... and that's supposed to clean our conscience?

Does anyone else look around at get blown away by the sheer contrariety of our condition? Do we ever let our own hypocrisy sicken us? 

Our self-serving society, with it's promise of wealth and comfort, has birthed nothing but pain for not only ourselves, but for innocents all over the world. For ourselves, its in the form of depression, anxiety, addiction, complacency and a variety of mental illnesses. For the world, the pain we sow is in the form of starvation, disease and exploitation. Sure we don't have to see the kids face who makes our shoes. We don't have to see the kids who die of thirst and hunger and preventable disease... so we can live guilt free. A sale is a good thing right? Shopping at Wal-Mart is fiscally responsible right? We say we want the truth, but we don't really want the truth. The truth is we are all guilty. Blood is on all of our hands. Does this bother you? We put money in the hands of murderers, extortionists, and child abusers daily. Most of all, we put money into the greedy machine that forces it all to happen. Who is to blame? What is the source of these monstrosities? The market... the demand. Who is the demand? 

We are.

Does this make you uncomfortable? I hope your anxiety kicks in as you read this. I hope your depression flares... I hope your knee-jerk reaction to reach for a milkshake or a pill will cause you to realize that there is more to life than just you. We all need to learn that insulation is not the answer. 

I hope you can't sleep tonight.