Black and White

"Black and white" is not only a fantastic Michael Jackson song, but also the lens through which I, as a follower of Christ, must see the world. In an earlier post, I contradicted this conviction mistakenly and to give you context, I meant that the issues surrounding the Greater Mekong Subregion are not at all black and white. They are as complex and interconnected as a game of Jenga. Each one is affected by the other.

In contrast, there are Biblical, absolute truths that explain and define the universe (thank God). Without these simple facts there would be no point to life and no response to evil. These truths are, indeed, the same ones that Juan Esparza and Gabe Davis repeated to me time and time again as a searching seventeen year old when I became a Christian. They are the means by which the Holy Spirit wooed my rebellious heart.

Some of these truths include: we are sinners. We cannot atone for the evil that exists in our hearts. Jesus can and did on the cross. We need Him in order to be in relationship with God. Without this relationship, we will go to hell. Within this relationship, we can look forward to eternal life in Heaven, without sin, with Jesus.

But there are more: God is both gracious and just. He is both perfectly loving and hateful towards evil. He wants us to have faith and rely on faith alone, and also to work to his glory.

...What in the WORLD does it mean to work to his glory? At first I was convinced it meant that if there is a need for me to walk around land mines to reach persecuted Christians with medical supplies, I must do it without hesitancy. Now, I realize, it is not about what I am doing, but where my heart is in doing it.

I think that to "work to the glory of God" is less about the type of work and more about the heart of the person in action. I can be dodging landmines in Burma to save orphans against the God's will as much as I can be stockpiling my wealth in America without His approval. 

I can also live in a comfortable suburb in Western Washington, be fully able to protect and provide for my children and still have money to take vacation to the glory of God. I can also sleep on a mat, completely inconvenience myself and eat buffalo intestine late at night in order to understand a culture that needs to hear about Jesus. Both may indeed be in God's will, depending on my prayerful examination of my heart and his calling. In both settings, I am called to share the Gospel without hesitation or fear. 

It's hard to understand, isn't it? It is for me...

But at the end of the day, no matter what culture I am an living in, there is still the culture of the Bible that I am called to live out in my life. I am still called to bear my cross, whatever that looks like. And that is between me and God.

I don't know whether God wants me to stay in America or fly off to some rural village in Southeast Asia. I do know one thing, though, and I will always know it: no matter where I am, no matter what I am doing, I am called to have a heart that is joyfully responsive to whatever he wishes. That, I think, is all I need to know.

"The heart of a man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps." 

(Thank you, Dad, for shedding some much needed perspective. Also, for kicks and because I know you all want to hear it now: http://youtu.be/F2AitTPI5U0 ).

You Are My Home

Today, I miss my family. I miss the sound of five little voices calling, “Lyric!” when I enter the door on Sunday mornings before church.

I miss the ever-large smiles and dimples, the hugs and cuddles, the energy and curiosity of my beautiful little siblings.

I miss watching them develop relationships with God and with each other. I miss seeing them dance, hearing them sing, and watching them laugh at Dad’s silly jokes. I miss trying to decide whose turn it is to pray and waking up the birthday person with a song. I miss the sparkling cleanliness of our kitchen and dining room. I miss the dim lighting of our living room and big comfy couches to sit on when it’s raining outside. I miss the strange whining howls that emit from our dog’s mouth when she’s excited.

I miss black and red, and wooden floors. I miss laughing so hard my belly hurts. I miss long talks when I should be sleeping or studying. I miss constantly seeing the face and character of God being reflected so succinctly in the lives, attitudes, decisions and (most of all) the love of my parents.

I miss you. As I move forward into this new life God has called me to, know that you are always my home.

"The Lord sets the lonely in families." (Ps. 68:6)

The Lowly

When I was thirteen years old, obsessed with the crush of the month, head banging to emo music, and smoking anything that I got passed…I never thought there was life beyond it.

When I was 16, blinded by the bondages of lies and seeking a something to fill the cross shaped hole in my heart…I never thought there was life beyond it.

Even when I was 17, and the Holy Spirit cleverly pulled back the veil from my eyes, I had no idea what he was actually capable of.

And now, 20, I sit on a matt in the corner of a room next to a stranger who is my friend. Fans momentarily relieve the thick, hot air of Southeast Asia—but not my awe.

My awe at the moment I saw myself teaching Christians thousands of miles from my home about the concept of redemption..and using my life as an example. My awe as their nods confirmed what I never thought could be possible—God has redeemed me. He has taken what was bad and made something very, very good. Very good indeed.

My awe at the position he has put me in, the life he is calling me to and the family, friends and adventure he has blessed me with.

 Psalm 138 says: “For though God is high, he regards the lowly."

…I am most definitely the lowly. 

My Job Description

It has been a little over one month since I arrived in Thailand, and so much of my worldview and heart has changed I am not totally sure what remains from before.

When I left Moon's village, it was very difficult for me to understand how God can still be good when such strategic, cleverly placed and powerful evil exists in the world. I couldn't help but ask God why he would have all power and not use it to rescue children from rape, give women more of a choice than that of prostitution or starvation ant to stop militaries from forcing families leave thier homes and livelihoods. Why would he not come down in fire and glory, with mighty hands and trembling anger to stop oppression and corruption? Where is his comfort to people who have lost all sense of their inherent, precious value in his eyes? By what method is he healing wounds of abuse and exlpoitation?

Then, suddenly and painfully, I realized what Scripture says is God's primary method of relieving injustice is:

Us. 

Man, it would've been a lot more simpler to blame it all on God. Because if this is true--that His People are indeed the sources of justice in this world, not organizations or governments or programs--that changes the filter through which we see our lives.

If my number one job description as a follower of Christ is to "seek justice" (Michah 6:8) and walk with the poor, than my first question to God when 'planning' my life is, "How?" How, God, do you want me to orient myself to injustice? What are you calling me to do?

This makes the reality of evil in this world menacing. I spoke with my mom today, and she captured it in very simple terms. We were talking about the boys I met a couple weeks ago who were being ministered to by a local NGO. These boys are currently in prostitution (some as young as 5). They are given two options in life, basically: starvation or prostitution. Of this stark fact my mom said, "Lyric, the very fact that these boys are forced into making that choice is a direct result of our sin." What does that mean?

That means that Christians aren't doing enough. I am convinced of this. That means that millions of disciples in the US (not to mention the others around the world) grow up in the church, go to college, make for themselves a career, get married, work, have kids and retire when four year old girls in the Phillipines are strapped to boards of wood and raped continuously. When five year old boys are sent to the city to provide for their families by having sex with American men. When Christian women's bible are taken and burned, then they are raped and murdered in front of their husbands and children because of the color of their skin and their faith that threatens communist thought. When fathers watch their children burn alive because armies are full of evil and corruption. When genocide plagues countries around the world.

That, my brothers and sisters, is why it is a painful realization. I can only imagine what Jesus is going to say to us when he comes back. There is injustice that we have never known surrounding us from all angles, and we choose to enjoy our blessings and freedoms in the States without interruption. That's like if the disciples kept all the fish and bread that Jesus made for the crowd of 5,000 for themselves--praising God for what he given them when there were people dying of hunger all around. How can we justify a life like that? (Good News About Injustice by Gary Haugen)

...Well, I don't want to. My God has had to be so much bigger for me here than he ever did at home. In the face of true evil his goodness has had to be so much more bright. His grace has had to be so much more free. His love has had to be so much more selfless, patient and sacrificial.

But his call has been so much more active and huge.

A couple of days after returning from Burma, my professor told me a story I don't think I will forget. She was studying human trafficking for the UN--writing papers on how governments can address the issue. Out of nowhere, Moon called her. "Christa!" She said, "There is a young girl who is about to be trafficked but she doesn't know! There is a man putting her on a motorcycle--what do I do?"

Christa, surrounded by pages of research into the issue, had nothing to offer her. "Pray?" She mumbled.

Moon clicked her tongue and sighed: "You pray, Christa. I am going to go grab her off the back of that bike."

Somewhere

I apologize for the lack of posting in the last 2 weeks. ...I haven't really had enough time to think, let alone let others hear my thoughts.

There is a plethora (that one's for you, Katelyn and Josh) of things that have happened since my last post, but I will attempt to highlight what I think may be the most life changing thing that has happened to me...(Not that there hasn't been more).

Two weekends ago, we got the opportunity to visit Burma, a place that has been highlighted in our Exclusion and Exploitation class for the vast amounts of social, political, environmental, and economic issues that the land has...

One of the issues there is human trafficking. The country (until 2010) was (or some would still say, is) ran by a military regime that took power through a coup in 1962. The brutal regime has since accrued thousands of crimes against humanity, attempting to basically torture, rape, murder and eventually eradicate every single minority group within Burma. (Which, by the way, has about 30-40% of minorities in it's population.)

The disgusting and inhumane recklessness with which the government has led it's people has ran the economy straight into the ground, creating an extreme lack of options for the majority of the population in regards to work, etc. Thus, thousands of ethnic minorities are prone to being trafficked by men and women who promise jobs and deliver slavery.

Two weeks ago, I met a survivor of this terrible cycle, who had been rescued from a brothel by my professor's husband when she was just 14.

The survivor, Moon, took us into her home village where her family, and most especially her mother, was. Her mom, who knew our professor from the time her organization rescued Moon, was now blind because she could not access medical care for her diabetes.Things quickly became surreal as we learned that only 4 weeks prior, the family had found out that Moon's sister, Star, had passed away while in prostitution. The mother began to wail, seemingly without end. All we could do was weep with her, and pray in a language she could not understand.

I was completely knocked off of my balance. The horrors of this dark world, the cycles that permeate the lives of these innocent individuals shocked me. I was even more shocked when, later, we heard the rest of the story.

To be brief, Star has a 9 year old daughter, Semia, and a 8 year old son, whom have never been to school. Wanting what was best for her children, Star agreed to join the sex industry--basically the only fruitful career a woman can have in a place like Burma. She went with a man whom she trusted, who promised her the ability to refuse her customers.

A few months later, she became pregnant. Due to Buddhist and Asian cultural values, her immediate feeling was shame. She took pills in an attempt to kill the baby, and ended up killing herself.

At first, I could do nothing but experience heartbreak for this woman, as she watched this never ending, hopeless cycle take the life of her daughter. ...And then we learned that the reason Moon first ended up in slavery was because her mother had sold her.

...I never, ever thought I would be able to empathize with an individual who enabled child sex trafficking.
...But I am pretty sure that Hebrews 4:14 encompasses it.

There is more to the story. There are darker details. There is an entire background of information about the countries of southeast Asia that would help you to understand that most women who end up in prostitution are not actually kidnapped and forced. They are forced by circumstances, which are created by corrupt governments.

Studying Buddhism would help you to understand that women here must repay their parents for all that they have done and that, because they are not men and cannot be monks, the only way to do that is to support the family in this life, physically. At any cost.

Our Western view tells us that's dysfunctional. Surely, counseling and scripture memorization will help. Surely, they must realize that their innocence, that their soul is worth more than to support their families. Surely, the US must impress sanction upon sanction upon sanction on the Burmese government so they can experience consequence for their behavior.. Surely, that would make them change.

If there is one thing I have learned since being here, it is that nothing is black and white.

We did not end there with Moon. In fact I would like to share with you another story about her, but I feel it is necessary to hold off on that. For now, I will leave you with a poem I wrote in the van, through tears, as we pulled away from that oppressed village and into the driveway of our safe, air conditioned hotel.

Somewhere.

and as i washed the filth off my hands

i couldn’t help but ask myself if i were also washing away the pain.

the concern that i was struck with.

the immediate, powerful release of divine heartache.

an ache that did not stop in my gut.

one that was not expelled as the tears fell from her eyes, or mine.

but an ache that persists.

that cannot—will not—be banished or told to subside.

at the core of who we are

(creation)

there remains little but the ability to experience bliss and devastation.

and as her blind eyes looked up, instinctively,

at a sky she could not see,

i wondered what wrath there exists to make such suffering

normative.

i cannot dismiss the sound of her wailing from my ears.

wails that spoke more than any sermon i’ve ever heard.

more convicting, i’d say, than most scripture i read.

i laid my hands on her broken, weary shoulder

bony from years of hunger

tense, for decades of guilt

decades of war.

against enemies that she cannot see.

with weapons left unloaded.

soldiers, untrained.

it was warm, and shaking with her sobs.

no words with which to pray

groanings to deep for them.

nothing to do but to weep with her,

and stare in horror as the realities of this dark world shattered my confidence, my joy.

…but maybe not my hope.

it was not the end,

but we left anyway.

though i think i could have stayed, enraptured, for days.

wounded by her wounds.

confused by circumstance.

wondering the same word i thought i saw her cracked mouth form:

“why?”

…but then again, she never spoke the same language as me.

not in words, no; but in the melodies of her murmurs.

in her futile anguish, that would not bring back her love.

i watched as her memories beat her.

worse, still, than the most wayward forms of torture.

when you hung on the cross, Lord,

did the nails help you to feel her pain?

did you see her,

(while she still could see)

with her brown skinned teen

with the paper she took from the man

who would take what was precious?

your love is higher than the mountains that surround her village.

it is stronger than the locked doors of the brothels where

children

lose their innocence.

somewhere, i know, it still exists in these cycles.

somewhere, i know.

somewhere,

somewhere.

Blinding, Rotten, Forgotten Scales

I am beginning a series of (hopefully) powerful posts: quotes from textbooks and other required readings from my courses in Thailand. The first three, found below, are taken from a US Department of State report that was filed only one year ago.

"Government troops used land mines without taking measures to protect civilians. In May government troops used children as young as five years of age as human shields and mine sweepers in Shan State’s Maingshu area."  

"According to one report, in January military officials transferred a civilian from Insein Prison to Pa’an Prison en route to the front line to serve as a porter... The source reported that Sergeant Sa Ya Shein Htun stabbed a porter to death when he was unable to carry his heavy load. Shein Htun reportedly also kicked a porter whose leg was blown off by a land mine into a ditch, where he died. "

"Rights groups and political prisoners denounced the May amnesty as inadequate; political prisoners in Rangoon’s Insein prison responded with a hunger strike. As punishment authorities allegedly transferred seven of these prisoners to cells used to house military dogs "

...The situation in Burma (Myanmar) amounts to hundreds of crimes against humanity. From 1948-2010 there has been civil war (and there are still violent killings happening along the Burma-Thai border). Not the American idea of civil war, where both sides would have weaponry, defense and reserves. But a military backed war against ethnic minorities, students, civilians, and absolutely anyone who the government deemed to be questioning it's authority. A war against unarmed, innocent people.

Thousands and thousands and thousands of God's people have been murdered. Thousands of children forced to fight as soldiers for their lives. Thousands more die because of lack of medical treatment. Thousands of villagers are displaced and constantly running from the military.

In the wake of this massacre where men, women, children and infants are constantly beaten, burned alive, tortured and raped, there is ONE Christian group (whom I cannot name, for fear they will be found and stopped) who are willing to risk their lives, run the border, and give medical and spiritual relief to those affected by the violence.

...One. 

Have we really asked ourselves what it means to be Christian? Have we truly come to a place of surety that we should not also be risking our lives? Does God actually want millions of evangelical Christians to be born, live, and die in a country full of freedom? 

How relevant are these verses for the American church today? 

Matthew 24:9 (ESV)  “Then they will deliver you up to tribulation and put you to death, and you will be hated by all nations for my name's sake.

Matthew 10:28 (NIV) ²⁸ Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell.

Matthew 16:24-25 (ESV) ²⁴ Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. ²⁵ For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.

Does "bearing our cross" only mean walking through the pangs of forgiveness towards our loved ones who have wronged us? Is it limited to enduring the annoying coworker's "persecution" who starts angsty arguments with us about our faith? Is denying ourselves only speaking to month long fasts, living in areas we'd prefer not to, walking for weeks without shoes, giving of our finances until it "hurts," letting a stranger get the short line at the grocery store, or praying for patience in heavy traffic?

...I think that God is bigger than that.

Is the Christian walk supposed to be a process of being born again, becoming aware of your sinful nature, repenting, fleeing temptation, finding a spouse, raising children, attending church, retiring, and dying to live eternally in bliss? What are we supposed to do with our light, our wisdom, our holiness? To whom do we transfer our joy, or the "divine power to break strongholds" (2 Cor. 10:14)? Does scripture refer to our willingness to work in soup kitchens every Wednesday night? Giving money to the homeless on the street? The inconvenience it is to open our home to church events? The bible studies that are ridden with in-authenticity, a fear of being outright with the gospel, and a slavery to the analyzation of sin that has already been atoned for?  Is that what Jesus meant when we said, "Come with me, and I will make you fishers of men."

Have we been blinded by lies, by sin, by ourselves? What does it actually mean to follow Christ?

Suddenly, I think I can resonate with Paul's experience:

"And immediately there fell from his eyes as it had been scales: and he received sight forthwith, and arose, and was baptized." Acts 9:18 (KJV)

Jenga

This was our first class and already my heart is broken and my world view is shattered.

The Greater Mekong Subregion (GMS) is like a giant game of Jenga--there is an intense need for restoration, healing, peace, intervention, education and economic stability. The most important and urgent need is that of the Gospel reaching these people.

However, the governments, policies, and people groups here are "set up" in such a way that if you attempt to  design a program or promote an outreach here, etc. you run the risk of getting arrested, breaking up family traditions, displacing orphans and tearing apart precious relationships.

You can't move one piece without shifting, toppling the entire tower that is the GMS.

...It is very overwhelming.

There is discrimination everywhere that leads to governments oppressing minority groups. They take away their land and resources, and force young children to seek harsh labor work and prostitution opportunities.

There is ignorance that is exploited, corruption that is legal, and a conscious blindness to the social and economic issues that are making human beings like you and I suffer every single day in ways we, as Americans, can not even begin to imagine.

There is a deep rooted Buddhist morale that tells the abused not to seek help or healing. There is pride that prevents true relationships from being built.

Education is not the answer. Preventative measures don't promise to prevent. Rescuing 8 year olds from brothels does not break this seemingly never ending cycle. If there is to be change, it needs to be revolutionary. I don't even know where to start.

I feel as if I have been living in a blessed safe haven, a bubble of unknowing ignorance.

The call on God's people is simple but great. And, being here, it seems like we are not responding the way we should be.

How can I live in the abundance of my home, knowing that injustice goes on all around me and that I am called to be an agent of light, and not act? How could I ever consider the sufferings of this world anymore than a passing tide compared to the glory that is to come? How can I justify a life of convenience and luxury when His picture, His model is so clear? Why would I want to live and die without putting my life on the line, without bearing the excruciating pain it is to watch my worldview crumble before my childish eyes? Why would I not give everything? Not just my spirit, my heart, my mind. Not just my words and actions and deeds.

But why not my safety? Why not my treasures? Why not my comfort, my savings, my family? Why not food, health insurance, freedom?

There are those in the world--men, women, and even the innocent faces of children--who will never see the abundance of what is listed above. Who will never be held by their mother because they were sold into slavery at birth. Who will never be safe because they are raped by men every single night who, as long as they pay, can do what they wish? Those whose children are taken away in the middle of the night and are never, ever heard from again because a wealthy citizen needed someone to harvest rice. Those who would faint at the sight of an average American meal because it is more than their family has ever had to eat. Those who are now blind because they did not receive simple vaccinations that I, even as an "impoverished" child was able to receive. Those who cannot, do not, speak out against oppression for fear of their very lives. Those who read the Bible in hiding and isolation from their very village.

Those who do not have the ultimate Treasure. The ultimate Freedom. The unshakable Peace and almighty Advocate.

"How?", I am now forced to ask myself, "Could I ever return to the way I was."