$3, 3 days

I wish I had written this blog last week when it was fresh and before I heard the sermon.  First of all because the effect is not as strong as it was but also because I just heard Micah quote Pastor Phil almost word for word what I wanted to say.  So for those of you who heard that, I promise I am not just copying him.

Last week my church did what we called the 3 for 3 campaign.  We had three days where we were allowed only $3 worth of food per day to try to understand a little better what so much of the world goes through.  I checked the box and did it and thought to myself that the hardest part would be no convenience food.  Even McDonalds is too expensive for this if you want to eat more than once a day.  I knew that I would have to give up sweets. (A can of pop at work is $.65, more than half the cost of one meal.  A bottle is more than an entire meal.)  I knew I would have to plan, because I wouldn't be able to stop by the store on the way to work to pick up a salad. (More than a day's worth in one mostly unsatisfying meal)  I knew snacks like almonds were going to be off the list. (unless I could force myself to stop eating them after two)  What I didn't expect was hunger.  I know that sounds strange, to only have three dollars and not expect hunger, but I thought I could eat enough chicken and rice to be full. Surprisingly, that wasn't the case.

The first shock came when I figured out how much my homemade veggie soup cost per serving, almost $2!  This is the meal that I make for myself in large quantities and freeze in order to save time and money. Even my cheap food was too expensive.  If I had divided each of the frozen containers in half, I would have been okay, but I would have been hungry.  I planned out my meals carefully, counting pennies.  I had the three days planned out and was feeling good.

Until I ate lunch on the first day.  Spaghetti. I was hungry long before dinner, which was strange because this is a common meal for me.  I guess the more you think about food the more hungry you feel.  Oh well, dinner came soon enough.  Two slices of bread, two tablespoon peanut butter, ten carrots and sixty-five cents worth of salad.  Don't forget to count the dressing too.  I was hungry, but that made sense because I had budgeted some wiggle room for snacks.  Problem was, I didn't think to bring any.  There is a vending machine at work but everything in it would have put me over my budget. Snacks would have to wait until I could pick up some Ramen on the way home at 9:00.  Ten cents. Piece of cake.

Strangely enough I must have caught my manager coming off of his break because he held out a cookie and said, "Want a cookie?"  I accepted it without thinking but then reconsidered.  Of course if someone was actually starving they would accept this gift without calculating how much it cost, but the point of the exercise was to live like the other half lives, not to see how much free food I could acquire. How much does a cookie cost anyways? I figured it was probably less than the forty-five cents I had left for the day and so I ate it, but I  was more grateful for that cookie at that moment than I thought possible.

I went to bed hungry.  Why is it that on any normal day a pb&j with carrots and a salad would have been just fine but the day that you are told you cannot have anything else is the day that you are suddenly obsessed with food?  In the morning I decided to skip breakfast so that I could have more food for lunch.  I've never done that before.  Okay well, I do every year for Thanksgiving I suppose, but that's only so I can be even more of a glutton by the time the turkey gets done.  I've never had to decide whether or not eating this food now would be better or skipping this meal so the next one could perhaps be big enough to be satisfying.  Reality check #1.

I became more and more aware of what other people have to go through when each meal became less and less satisfying.  Its one thing to have one meal that is slightly too small, but every meal?  That is something I've never experienced.  I've fasted before and so I've been so hungry that you can't quite see straight and your head begins to hurt, but to feel that way after three days where I could still eat, just not enough?  I never imagined I'd feel that way.  And then when Thursday rolled around and I could eat whatever I wanted whenever I wanted I realized just how spoiled I am.  The people who have to live on less than three dollars a day don't have any clue when or if their hunger will ever end.  They don't always know when their next meal will be and they would be willing to bet their life that it won't be satisfying.  I was counting down the meals to Thursday while they are just trying to find something to eat today.

I don't really know how to end this post, only to say that if you want an idea what many other people go through, you should try  this challenge.  Just remember though, much of the world lives on even less.  Can you believe it?  Feel spoiled yet?

Action vs. Inaction.

Action vs. Inaction.  That's a question that I struggle with a lot.  Most of the time in my life I don't come to a fork in the road and have to choose between one direction or another, most of the time I have the choice to stay on this current path or turn off.  Does that make sense?  Sometimes I've hit that first option, where things cannot stay the same and you have a pair or list of choices to make.  Graduating college was one of those.  I could not continue doing what I was doing.  I had to leave.  Continuing down that road was not an option.  Even if I had chosen to continue my education right then and there, things would have looked very different.

But usually I find that this is not the case.  An opportunity comes up in life, or I have the chance to create an opportunity for myself and I have to decide; continue doing what I am doing?  Or chose this other thing?  Usually, the easy route is to do nothing.  A missions trip opportunity comes up?  Probably totally worth it to go, but definitely easier to stay.  Potential new job?  Still easier to stay, even if you hate it.  Less effort, less learning curve.

Now, those two examples are probably bad because the way that I colored them.  I made it seem like the action was more beneficial than the inaction.  In those examples any excuses you come up with to remain inactive are just that, excuses.  But right now I am struggling with some decisions that are not so cut and dry.  Not to me, not to anyone whose advice I've sought on this.  Can't you people just tell me what to do?  For example, I am trying to decide whether to talk to a friend about something.  If I say something, I can never take those words back and words get me in trouble.  A lot.  In fact I've already had to apologize once today for something I've said and I've only talked to two people so far.  So do I keep my mouth shut and continue going crazy or say something and make the whole thing blow up in my face?  In different situations, I've done both, and neither actually went well.

Or what about when following your dreams looks so good and wonderful and you have a million images of motivational posters of people on top of Mt.Everest cycling through your head but then when you sit down and do the math, it turns out that the dream may just be next to impossible.  Is it really worth it in the end?  Is it even possible?

I make, or fail to make, a lot of decisions in my life based on fear.  Which of these options is less scary? Which is more prudent?  It causes a lot of people to call me wise.  Little did they know that if you always act on your fears and blow it off as nonchalance, it appears to be wisdom.  Its not too hard to fake.  And its not always a horrible way to live life.  I am alive with never a broken bone because I've never actually acted on my dream to jump off our third floor balcony into the bank of snow below.  But it can be a boring way to live life.  And not always the best.  And I'm tired of making decisions based on fear.  So incredibly fed up with it.  But I still want to be wise.  How do I do that?  Is it wise to take a very scary leap and really, really hope that God catches me?  Or is it more wise to be shrewd?  Shrewd with my money, with my words, with my actions?  I know the answer cannot be found in the information I've given, or possibly even in the information I have but these are the things I wrestle with.

The thing that is so difficult about inaction vs. action decisions is that you can usually put off the decision for a long time.  You can unintentionally make a decision by refusing to make a decision and not even notice that you're doing it. One of my dilemmas does not need an answer for several months yet.  If I choose to act, I cannot act for some time so perhaps I should just delay the question until it needs an answer.  I am certain, however, that the other has a timeline, that there is perfect timing and imperfect timing with this one.  I just don't know what it is.

So if you're the praying type and you happen to pray for me at all, pray that I have the wisdom to know what to do and the courage to act on it.

This place is holy ground.

I know what you may be thinking.  "That looks like an old train bridge. It doesn't appear to be holy at all.  And its not even ground.  In fact you aren't even suspended above ground.  That's water, that is.  And please don't tell me that you actually walk on that thing."  You would have a point but the truth is you would be wrong.  This is holy ground.  This is where heaven meets earth and God talks to his people.  Or at least talks to me.  And the sun always, always shines here.

This sanctuary was discovered by accident.  One day I followed an old set of train tracks.  It is more difficult than you might expect because railroad ties are not spaced evenly apart, or at least these are not, and walking the rail takes more coordination than I have the patience for. As you take each, uneven step with care, the surroundings seem to slip away and the journey to the holy place begins.  Even in the midst of a park with baseball diamonds near, something feels different. 

Soon you come to a tunnel.  Its an underpass, really, and you can hear the cars pass overhead.  The metal walls and ceiling reflect the sound of your steps back to you and the tracks begin to sink into the mud.  At the far end of the tunnel trees and bushes seem to block your path until you spot the narrow footpath into the brush. You realize that you are not the only pilgrim who has traveled this way.  As you step into the bushes you feel as though you have stepped into another world.  The tracks have all but disappeared and the ground falls away on either side of you.

It seems that every step becomes more and more overgrown and difficult to navigate. Several times trees have grown up in the path and you are forced to circle around.  Finally you pass one last set of trees and it lies before you.  The bridge.  It is a place of peace, a place of rest, a place to commune with the creator.  It is not so far secluded that you cannot hear the cars on the road you walked under, but theirs sounds are muffled and distant.  Fish swim the water beneath your feet and deer occasionally come for a drink.  It is a place of stillness.  The air is fresh and each breath is full and begins to calm the pitter-patter of a rabbit-heart.

There was something about this place today.  Something so much more significant than it ever had been. Perhaps because I came here, alone, with the sole purpose of prayer.  I prepared my heart to meet with God on the way and by the time I reached the bridge, I felt the need to remove my shoes and feel the sun-warmed planks beneath my feet because this was holy ground.  Too often I talk with God without preparation and it seems rushed, unsatisfying.  Today was slow and as I stood up to leave, I felt filled.  I prayed for my church and our building; for my future and the decisions I need to make; for babies recently born and those still on the way; for relationships and guidance. I got no answers, but I did find peace, and a little Vitamin D, and that is enough for me.

Friendship

I think that one of the hardest things about leaving college was the lack of deep friendships here.  I didn't realize it at first because I was always surrounded by such great people and because I still had my roommate, but the truth was that no matter how much I liked my new friends or how much they liked me, we didn't share a history. We might have shared interests, or hobbies, or enjoying the company of each other, but we didn't really know what the other had been through.  We had never seen the other truly hurting, nor did we know what made the other deliriously happy.  For a time all these friendships were endlessly good, but lacked a certain depth.

In school, this depth came quickly.  When you see each other daily, it doesn't take long to get to know each other.  When you feel like you miss someone because you didn't run into them for several hours one day, you quickly learn to value them. When you live down the hall or across the pond from them, you learn to forget about the fights and forgive easily.  When you eat lunch in the same place, with the same people, every day, you begin to consider them family.  All this happens quickly.  Before the shininess of a new friendship wears off, the roots of a deep, meaningful relationship have been set.  Not so much in what we like to call the "real world."  In this world outside of dorm life, things take longer.  Sometimes the excitement of the newness wears off before unconditional trust kicks in. In that gap is where forever friends are won or lost.  Its harder to get past this point, and lonelier.

This weekend, however, I was reminded of something.  I know some great people.  And the great part about them is that I have realized that two years have passed and these friendships have gone deep.  I feel a sense of family-ness when I am around them, just like in college.  But unlike college, I also have ample opportunity to meet new people constantly.  The trip I went on this weekend had every stage of friendship imaginable. My roommates, who I trust completely.  Friends I've known longer that two years, but only since moving here have become close. Two year old friends who have become brothers and sisters.  One-year old friends who have passed the shallow-friend stage.  Months old friends who are a delight to be around.  Even a brand new friend who I met as we loaded the cars to leave.  My grandpa had the chance to meet these people and kept telling me what an awesome group of friends I have.  I have to admit that I agree completely.

So thank you to all my friends.  Whether you went on this trip or not, or if you are a stage 1 friend or a stage 47 friend, thank you.  You make my life so much richer and more wonderful and I look forward to seeing where our friendship will take us.