Cripple: (verb) to disable, impair, weaken.

Recently I watched a show entitled "Intervention."

I was struck with a very powerful realization - love has the potential to both inspire and cripple, and the latter of which is my focus.

The particular episode I watched was about a man who was a methamphetamine addict. Out of love for him, his mother allowed him to have a tent in the backyard where he could live, would give him a bed inside when he was going through withdrawals (where she was at his beck and call -- understandably so, because withdrawals are nasty). But all in all, this love was not healing but crippling and enabling a destructive lifestyle. He made all of his meth at home, with the knowledge of his mother.

At the leaders' meeting at church Sunday evening, the topic of discussion was on the procedures that we have in place for giving to those in need. And this is something I'm beginning to understand as a leader: expectation. There do have to be expectations. For example, helping somebody pay an electricity bill. It looks like as a part of receiving that help, the receiver is to come in and work out a budget so that they can manage their money from that point forward. They're expected to work if they're able to do so.

To not have any expectation that people will get well, will move on to bigger and better things, is crippling. Granted, this goes along with the issue of whether or not people are interested in getting well, in moving on to bigger and better things.

In essence, moving onwards requires us to leave the present behind us. This requires strength, as the present is comfortable, and the future is unseen.

But you know, the song from Hawk Nelson puts it best:

"we're the ones who believe in the things unseen."

Thoughts about Human Rights

This post could be unpopular.

I was watching a documentary on HIV in Africa called Miss HIV. Part of it discussed overcoming the stigma attached to HIV so that people wouldn't be ashamed to reach out and get help (typically, antiretrovirals, which, as I understand from some very basic and quick research, keep virus levels low and improve quality of life for those who are infected with HIV).

A part of this documentary focused on prevention campaigns. The International AIDS Conference in 2006 had some very interesting reactions to abstinence. Many presenters (cheered on by a rowdy crowd) discussed how abstinence-based AIDS prevention campaigns were not good for women for a variety of reasons: in poorer countries women are sex workers, the woman can be faithful but the man can run around, and so on. Condoms faced similar arguments: a woman can only request that her partner wear a condom and that isn't fair to her because she's not in control. Basically, the cry was for the power for prevention to be put in the woman's hands through anti-viral creams/lubricants, etc. Discussion of Uganda's "ABC" approach (Abstinence, Be faithful to your partner, and if you can't, use a Condom) at this conference brought a chorus of "boos" from the audience. Apparently, the thought is that abstinence based programs violated people's "right to sex", which is where my real discussion begins, I think.

What is a right? A just claim or title to something. Okay. I'm good with that. People have a right to life. A right to have press that tells the truth and won't be punished by the government for doing so. A right to liberty. A right to pursuit of happiness (which if I understand the founding fathers, meant the right to make money).

At a church event, "Digging Deeper", we've been going through the Old Testament. Something struck me about God during one of the recent sessions: that He respects our authority and lets us make decisions. Respecting our authority means allowing us to live with the ramifications of those decisions.

So, I guess my conclusion is this: we absolutely do have a God-given right to make decisions for our selves. A person can decide to have as many sexual encounters as they like. As many abortions as are wanted. As many Krispy Kreme donuts. As many people dead as they want. But making those choices doesn't make them right. We have a claim to freedom of choice because God gave that to us and respects what He has given. But He also has a set of laws designed to govern our choices.

You know, in the film Beyond the Gates of Splendor, they were talking about an extremely violent tribe in the Amazon basin of Ecuador. One man noted that the things that that culture valued were individuality and equality. Taken to the extreme, these values that Americans share with this tribe resulted in something quite ghastly. When an individual was offended, he felt that he had the right to "spear" the offender.

So we have the right of choice. We can choose to do something, but we also have the right to choose not to do something, and I find that that right is ignored because it's "boring." Because it forces us to control ourselves.

Like I said, unpopular. But it is how I'm beginning to understand what's happening around me. And believe me, I wanted to give the "rights" aspect a fighting chance. I've been wrestling with these questions for a while, but such are my conclusions.

On Being Angry with God

There have been two movies which I have watched that have gotten me angry with God: The Mission and End of the Spear. The parts which sparked this anger stick out so vividly to me. In The Mission, it was that opening scene, with the missionary tied by the Natives to a cross and sent to float down the river, where he would meet his death by being hurled over a waterfall. From The End of the Spear, what did me in was watching the father say goodbye to his children, and then be speared to death by the people he went to go and help.

Angry.

Upset with God.

I watched The End of the Spear this afternoon for the first time. I wept. Bitterly, even. "Why?" was all I could ask God. "Why? Why send your people out to die?"

This gets at an issue I have been facing for most of my Christian life: the fear of martyrdom. There was a call on my life to go to missions when I was young. I was afraid. Afraid of the pain and torture that might accompany it. And so, now, anger. Why do the people He loves have to go and be killed?

I placed myself in the families shoes - what if Jesse and I were married, and he went off into the jungle and never came back? I was angry.

I know the answers to the question. I know the verses. Please don't throw those at me. It is a heart issue, not a head issue.

Anyhow, the heart issue is being solved out. Everyday, I come to understand Christianity more and more. More of the purpose, more of the workings of the tides that lay below the surface of the ocean waters. And today may be the beginning of a change in thoughts in regards to this thing that makes me angry with God. Really truly realizing that people's salvation is more important than my life or the lives of those that I love. Truly realizing what a "missionary" is.

I am so small, and all of this is so much bigger than me and my life.

To the missionaries, who truly give their lives.

Gracie