Friday, August 31, 2007

Young Pilgrims


Have you ever buried a trauma in a song?...And then when you hear that song again it's almost like a day hasn't gone by.

I'm so amazed how this song, this melody, is capable of debilitating me....causing me actual, physical pain.

3 years ago when my brother died, the Shins had just come out with a new album. I listened to it night and day. I listened to it when I couldn't muster the courage to take one step out of my bed...I blared it from my car stereo while I got drunk at the tree he hit and sobbed myself into oblivion. I knew then that I would never be able to enjoy a song on that album ever.

Not that it was a band he ever liked, or even the type of music he listened to, it was just there--marking that devastating time period and now it's a sound from the darkness. A soundtrack to the deepest wound I've ever endured.

Abrahm accidentally played one of the songs this afternoon and I almost folded over in pain. Immediately the breathe was sucked right out of my lungs and my head was flushed with thousands of images and emotions. It was like he literally opened up a pandorain-death box and let it ravage my soul.

It sucks too, because the Shins are pretty awesome...here are a few of the verses...an ode to the song I will never love again.

A cold and wet November dawn
And there are no barking sparrows
Just emptiness to dwell upon.

But I learned fast how to keep my head up 'cause I
Know there is this side of me that
Wants to grab the yoke from the pilot and just
Fly the whole mess into the sea.

Saturday, August 25, 2007

The Only Time Christ Got Angry Is When He Went To Church

Before I am a Christian, I am a Christ follower.

Often we get caught up in titles; doctrine; denominations.

Why is it so hard to find a church that follows the BIBLE?!?!?!?!?!

I am tired and weary. I want to follow Christ; I want to do his work, and more and more and I am disappointed by his appointed.

We look down on the Catholics because they are too ritualistic, too far away from God. But when was the last time we had reverence for the Lord?

What about his teachings and how we carry them out? No, no, we are far too PC to actually follow the Bible.

I am so disappointed with the churches input on the issue of Life. I am disgusted. I am infuriated. I am jealous. I am broken hearted.

Church is an institution.

I am a Christ follower. nothing more. nothing less.

Monday, August 20, 2007

Home Sour Home

Have you ever found yourself in a situation where something could either be the biggest blessing ever, given to you straight from God above, or the biggest curse/money pit/trap that's ever existed and it's just wrapped up in "blessing wrapping paper?"

Just like any good abusive relationship starts out, this house also, has to be one of the two.



It is so adorable, inexpensive, has a huge backyard, and is right across the street from the elementary school that Aiden would attend. (it does not help matters at all that I've invisioned sipping my coffee from the closed in porch while Eiffel and I wave as we watch him run off to school just as the sun is rising and angelic bursts of light bounce off of his golden hair, roughly 100 thousand times already) There are not many things that I do in true 'lady fashion' these days, but getting all emotional for a house is one of them....It's to the point where I may need to hire imaginary movers just to get my figments relocated. I am in love with this house.

But just like a sour relationship, this house too, has thrown up some red flags. And I find myself making almost, borderline, just barely, too many excuses for it. "Well, maybe it's been on the market so long, and dropped $5,000 bcause it was meant for us!" or "yeah, sure the floors kind of lean, and yeah, we may have to push the sofa back up to the wall once a day, but hey, this house has been here for 50 years! What could possible go wrong now?" or my personal favorite, "Smell? What smell?"

I love this house; Abrahm loves this house, but does God love this house for us, or are we simply lovestruck? We are both in prayer over it, and I personally am praying that if this is a lemon God shows me hands down, in my face, rotten beam hitting me over the head, what is wrong with it, because I know that's what it'll take.

The sad thing is, I don't even really want a house, not like Abrahm does at least. We have a really great apartment and I enjoy the freedom of not being a homeowner, I really, really do. But just like that first black eye followed by a sincere, genuine apology, this house has me hooked....I've never liked "bad boys" but I do sense a propensity towards "bad houses."

Friday, August 10, 2007

I would also just like to add...


Have you ever noticed that the Birthday song feels at least 10 minutes long when it is being sung to you?

...even longer, when there are flagrant arm motions involved?

The Summit Was To Die For Darling!


Wow.

Wow.

Wow.

You know 3 days ago, as I was preparing for the leadership summit, I started to wonder, 'is it all really worth it?'

The ticket was kind of expensive, finding a sitter wasn't too easy, the drive was no fun, and just the valuable time that I was going to have to take out of my already busy schedule would be sorely missed and probably never made up.

So, here I sit, at the end of day two. And again I ask 'was it worth it'?

It was...by far....one of the best investments in my future that I could have made. The timing for this summit was perfect. And the money I'll save on Tylenol alone will be worth it, because these phenomenal leaders have saved me so many future headaches.

Yesterday Bill Hybel did a sermon entitled "Vision to Die for." Talk about God pounding a message into your head, er, sorry, I mean talk about God refining you...right Ally? Well, either way, this message spoke to me like no other. Would I die for my vision; that's easy, yes. Would anyone else die for my vision. ummmm, no. I have held on so tightly to this mission that seldom have I even let others attempt to participate in it.

So as I'm chewing over this concept in my head I begin to realize, 'hey, maybe dieing for this vision would be the best thing I could do for it!' My friends are all so passionate about me that they would probably rally around and carry on with great vigor and ambition-all in my memory. (this is a joke of course so please, don't call and tell Abrahm I need therapy...I mean, don't get me wrong, I probably do, but not for this.)

So then I start to realize, as a leader, should my Plan B involve offing myself for the cause? (: Red flag, right?

Well Bill offered an even better alternative, a Plan A if you will. When people are allowed to contribute to the vision then they feel apart of the vision. duh. Yeah, obvious now that I've heard it put in a wonderfully articulate and logical way. Funny how that works. And get this, not only will people be excited about it they may actually invest in it! crazy thought, I know.

...not to mention if it doesn't work out, I can always fall back on my shadow mission and become a wildly successful cult leader. Punch anyone?

Monday, August 6, 2007

Retraction


I would just like to take a moment to apologize to the very...well, I won't go that far, but the alive, all the same, Nancy Reagan.

http://www.deadoraliveinfo.com/dead.nsf/rnames-nf/Reagan+Nancy

You are not dead, and I guess it wasn't you that I remember being buried a few years ago. That was not very Republican of me to say. My apologies.

....and no, Mr.T has absolutely nothing to do with this...he has never once, to my knowledge, made an attempt on Nancy's life.

We're Obviously Bored, So I Say 'Bring Back The Crusades!'


Reposted from My Jewely...

Genuine help is welcome, but grandstanding Westerners don't see that we can help ourselves, says UZODINMA IWEALA

12:00 AM CDT on Sunday, August 5, 2007

Last fall, shortly after I returned from Nigeria, I was accosted by a perky blond college student whose blue eyes seemed to match the "African" beads around her wrists.

"Save Darfur!" she shouted from behind a table covered with pamphlets urging students to TAKE ACTION NOW! STOP GENOCIDE IN DARFUR!

My aversion to college kids jumping onto fashionable social causes nearly caused me to walk on, but her next shout stopped me.

"Don't you want to help us save Africa?" she yelled.

It seems that these days, wracked by guilt at the humanitarian crisis it has created in the Middle East, the West has turned to Africa for redemption. Idealistic college students, celebrities such as Bob Geldof and politicians such as Tony Blair have all made bringing light to the Dark Continent their mission. They fly in for internships and fact-finding missions or to pick out children to adopt in much the same way my friends and I in New York take the subway to the pound to adopt stray dogs.

This is the West's new image of itself: a sexy, politically active generation whose preferred means of getting the word out are magazine spreads with celebrities pictured in the foreground, forlorn Africans in the back. Never mind that the stars sent to bring succor to the natives often are, willingly, as emaciated as those they want to help.

Perhaps most interesting is the language used to describe the Africa being saved. For example, the Keep a Child Alive/"I am African" ad campaign features portraits of primarily white, Western celebrities with painted "tribal markings" on their faces above "I AM AFRICAN" in bold letters. Below, smaller print says, "help us stop the dying."

Such campaigns, however well intentioned, promote the stereotype of Africa as a black hole of disease and death. News reports constantly focus on the continent's corrupt leaders, warlords, "tribal" conflicts, child laborers and women disfigured by abuse and genital mutilation. These descriptions run under headlines like "Can Bono Save Africa?" or "Will Brangelina Save Africa?"

The relationship between the West and Africa is no longer based on openly racist beliefs, but such articles are reminiscent of reports from the heyday of European colonialism, when missionaries were sent to Africa to introduce us to education, Jesus Christ and "civilization."

There is no African, myself included, who does not appreciate the help of the wider world, but we do question whether aid is genuine or given in the spirit of affirming one's cultural superiority. My mood is dampened every time I attend a benefit whose host runs through a litany of African disasters before presenting a (usually) wealthy, white person who proceeds to list the things he or she has done for the poor, starving Africans.

Every time a well-meaning college student speaks of villagers dancing because they were so grateful for her help, I cringe. Every time a Hollywood director shoots a film about Africa that features a Western protagonist, I shake my head – because Africans, real people though we may be, are used as props in the West's fantasy of itself.

And not only do such depictions tend to ignore the West's prominent role in creating many of the unfortunate situations on the continent, they also ignore the incredible work Africans have done and continue to do to fix those problems.

Why do the media frequently refer to African countries as having been "granted independence from their colonial masters," as opposed to having fought and shed blood for their freedom? Why do Angelina Jolie and Bono receive overwhelming attention for their work in Africa while Nwankwo Kanu or Dikembe Mutombo, Africans both, are hardly ever mentioned?

How is it that a former mid-level U.S. diplomat receives more attention for his cowboy antics in Sudan than do the numerous African Union countries that have sent food and troops and spent countless hours trying to negotiate a settlement among all parties in that crisis?

Two years ago I worked in a camp for internally displaced people in Nigeria, survivors of an uprising that killed about 1,000 people and displaced 200,000. True to form, the Western media reported on the violence but not on the humanitarian work the state and local governments – without much international help – did for the survivors. Social workers spent their time and, in many cases, their own salaries to care for their compatriots. These are the people saving Africa, and others like them across the continent get no credit for their work.

Last month the Group of Eight industrialized nations and a host of celebrities met in Germany to discuss, among other things, how to save Africa. Before the next such summit, I hope people will realize Africa doesn't want to be saved. Africa wants the world to acknowledge that through fair partnerships with other members of the global community, we ourselves are capable of unprecedented growth.

Uzodinma Iweala is the author of "Beasts of No Nation," a novel about child soldiers.

Saturday, August 4, 2007

Inner-view...


"Coming Next Week: New Wave Femmes

They are called the "New Wave Femmes" and lest you think they are the latest rage in punk rock, you wouldn't be close. Next week, founder Destiny Herndon-DeLaRosa joins Zero Gossip to talk about this new organization who's out to stop, or at least lay down a road block to sexism. I gotta say, she's pretty sassy!"

I don't know how I feel about being called sassy. Four year olds are sassy. Not to mention, right below this blurb is a sexy girl in a tiny bikini....should I protest my own interview?

Wednesday, August 1, 2007

Big Mac


Do any of you still have nightmares? I think I average about one really terrifying one every six months....hence why I am up and have been up since 4:45 this morning.

Abrahm and I bought our Mac yesterday and we were joking that this is the first time we've ever had anything "rob" worthy. He was talking about buying this Apple chain that locks the computer to your desk and I guess that took root somewhere in my subconscious.

So, my phone rings. It's about 11:45 and everyone is already in bed. It's a number that I don't recognize but I answer anyway. About that time Eiffel wakes up and comes in the living room; I guess the ring woke her. So I am on the phone, holding Eiffel and walking into my bedroom because I need something off of the computer. All of this racket wakes Abrahm up and so in a sleepy voice he keeps asking me who I'm on the phone with. I kind of snap at him because I'm trying to do so many things at once that I can't pay attention to him. I start walking into the living room and by this time Abrahm has gotten up and is following me. All of the sudden I notice that the door is cracked open. I freeze. At that same exact moment I hear Abrahm say "Oh my God, who are you?!?!?!" As I turn around I fall into a sitting position with the phone still firmly rested hands-free on my shoulder. I utter the words "...we're being robbed," and right at that moment I see the red beam from the gun quickly turn to me...holding Eiffel.

I woke up immediately, barely able to take a breath.