I have been reading a book since August - it's called the Poisonwood Bible. It is a fiction book, but it still really makes me think. I'm getting toward the end of the book now, and two nights ago, one of the daughters finally died. I knew this moment was coming since the prologue of the book - throughout the story the suspense kept building and building. Just when I thought I knew who the unfortunate victim would be, the character would pull out of whatever predicament they were in and you were left wondering how it was all going to end.

When the end finally came for little Ruth May, I cried. Not any of her older sisters - vain, proud and self-focused. In the end, it was dear, sweet little Ruth May. So I cried.

Then I found myself getting angry - at myself. Countless Africans had died throughout the story, yet I never cried for them. But when one little white American died, I cried. Granted, she was a character that the author had developed a history and personality for throughout the story. Was that the only reason I cried? Or did I cry because I can relate to her more - as an American? Did I cry because I can imagine how terrible it would be to be in a scary, foreign place and have someone I loved so much die?

I think it is inevitable to start thinking that it is normal for children to die in the rural villages of third world countries. Why? Because, unfortunately, it is true. It is normal - it is a part of life. Does it hurt them any less? I am not sure. On one hand, they know to expect it, and chances are they have already experienced much death by the time that one of their children die. Does it make it hurt any less? Or does it only make it that much more agonizing to lose yet another person that they love?

I think there is a dangerous line between acknowledging that it is normal for children to die in third world countries and accepting that children die in third world countries. It is normal, but that does not mean it needs to stay that way. It does not mean that a death of someone in a third world country is any less tragic than the death of an American. I get so angry with the American media for focusing on such petty stories (relative to the stories around the world and the suffering of people around the world), but am I really any different than them?

I was reading BBC Africa online the other day and came across a story about a British couple that was murdered in Mombasa, Kenya (where my team spent a few days on vacation). It freaked me out. "Oh my goodness, we were there! If they killed that British couple, they might have killed us! How sad for their family." It made me question whether or not I really wanted to go back to Kenya - I mean, it is so unsafe.

How does that line of thinking make me any different from the media? Sure, I am not the one picking the stories to report on, but the stories about Americans and white people getting murdered are the ones that make my feel uncomfortable. They are the ones that evoke a deep, strong emotional response. I read stories about the Turkana dying from the drought, and yes, I cry. I think it is so terrible that they are dying from lack of water and food when we could be helping them. I want to make a difference, but I connect so much stronger with stories about the privileged white people. They are the stories that make me shudder and feel dread in my heart.

I suppose it is only normal to feel more emotional over the death of someone in your family. I would be much more distraught if I lost one of my siblings than if one of my friend's lost theirs. I would feel very bad for my friend, and I probably would cry. It would be worse if it was one of my own family members, though. I think that is kind of my mentality when I hear about bad things happening to the people who live in Mombasa, versus bad things happening to tourists to Mombasa, specifically tourists from the western world.

I don't want it to be that way. I like to think as Africans being as much family to me as people from America. I spent six months in their land. I learned their customs and some of their language. I cried with them and I learned to struggle through some of the same things they struggle with. I came to care about the things they care about and began to adapt more and more to their way of life. In those six months, they became my people. I want them to be just as much my people as my fellow Americans, if not more so. I want to align myself with the poor and those who struggle. I do not want to align myself with the greedy and the powerful.

Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek,
for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be filled.

So, I am again faced with the question that haunts me daily these days. How do I put this into practice in my life? How do I turn from my greedy and selfish ways and learn to live a life that seeks justice, equality and love for all? It's not just something that I personally want to do. It's truly what Jesus would do. Jesus would not sit in his house in his well-off suburban neighborhood and build his comfortable empire. He would be out among the poor and needy, giving of Himself and meeting the needs of those around Him.

I want to pour myself out and meet the needs of those around me, but I feel so weak and so small.

Sources:
The Poisonwood Bible: A Novel, By Barbara Kingsolver
BBC - Arrests over Kenya tourist deaths
Matthew 5, NIV, Bible Gateway

Through You the blind will see
Through You the mute will sing
Through You the dead will rise
Through You all hearts will praise
Through You the darkness flees
Through You my heart screams, I am free!

I am free to run
(I am free to run)
I am free to dance
(I am free to dance)
I am free to live for you
(I am free to live for you)
I am free
(I am free)

Chorus:
I am free
I am free
I am free to run
(I am free to run)
I am free to dance
(I am free to dance)
I am free to live for you
(I am free to live for you
I am free
(I am free)
Yes I am free

Tonight a victory was won - I am free of one of my burdens - and for the first time in a long time, I feel hope.

I've been thinking a lot recently about how much I'd like to be normal.

Maybe I'll expound at a later date.

I got out my guitar case today to put away my capo, which has been sitting on my desk for at least the past month. Inspired by the bluegrass version of Relient K that I've been listening to, I tuned up my guitar and tried to play a few songs. I didn't get very far for a couple reasons.

I haven't played in one, possibly two months. My callouses and muscles in my left hand are shot. Second, all I can think about while I'm playing is how much I blew it back at choral camp. I was asked to lead the hour long worship time over the weekend for the counselors. I put hours and hours of preparation work into it. I put over five hours of actual practice time with my band into it. I prayed. I did everything I was taught to do as a worship leader. It was in the middle of my breaking down emotinoally. I was exhausted, I was hurting, I was trying to figure out things from the past and from the future while giving 100% of my energy to the campers. So what do I do? I get up there and one whole song falls apart. Awesome God, Holy God - which used to be one of my favorites. Now I can't sing it without remembering that terrible moment when all the music stopped and I had seventy some people staring at me from the pews.

It was horrible. It was embarrassing. I promised myself I would never lead worship again, or maybe even be on another worship team (I really blew it another morning a few days later when I tried to play guitar). I haven't even really played since then. I felt betrayed. I was trying so hard to do things the right way and to do it for God and He still let it fall apart. I knew a couple of people on the worship team and in the congregation were judging me... We have a long history (that's gone sour recently) and they're very critically musically. Many people from the Mennonite world I live in were there. I wonder how many of them look at me and think "Oh, yeah, that's the girl that really blew it during worship at choral camp?"

It's all I can think about now when I try to play. That and trying desperately to lead worship for my team in Kenya when I was so dry spiritually and just wanting to cry instead of struggling through the worship songs. I don't enjoy playing any more. I feel tormented while I play. I hate it. I used to love playing and I loved being a part of the worship team. Now it's just another burden in my life.

So much is going on, yet nothing at all, in some ways. I feel strangely unmotivated to write, which I sincerely hope changes come November. Nanowrimo doesn't work very well when one has writer's block...

I'll be moving down south next week. I'm looking forward to the warm weather and finding a routine - a job, a church, a social life. I'm also anxious about it all. I wish I could just fast forward a few months and jump into an already-established life. I hate these beginnings. I hate having to start from scratch and build up a network of friends and familiarity with things and schedules. It feels like I've ended up doing that a lot in my life already.

I made a comment to someone at church yesterday about how I wasn't looking forward to that aspect of moving because of how unsure of myself I am. She acted sincerely surprised and made a comment about everything I've done - college, Africa, etc. If only I could just mentally pull that all together, pile it up and let it bring me confidence. Somehow, I still find myself feeling like a sad, young & scared girl who is sure that she will be rejected.

Recently I have become extremely undisciplined. I think it's because I've lost motivation in my day to day living here - I have no job, no academics - nothing to keep me focused, nothing to challenge me, and nothing to keep me striving for more. So, where does that show up first? My spiritual life, of course.

I have been incredibly unfaithful recently in my walk with God. I pray, and I desire to do what's right, but I don't open my Bible - I don't even make an effort. Yet, for all my unfaithfulness, God has continued to show Himself faithful, and He hasn't walked away - although I don't think I'd blame Him if He had. As I struggle through each day, He continues to reveal more and more to me as I think about my life.

A few weeks ago I came to the realization that as an American, I have been taught to pursue happiness with everything in me. All of us have inalienable rights - life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, right? I've taken my liberty and pursuit of happiness to the extreme. I balk at anyone who tells me what to do - I'm a free person - I can make my own decisions. If something is making me unhappy, I strive to get away from it. I strive to find happiness.

I've learned over the years, the more I try to be happy, the more miserable I am. It's counterproductive to pursue happiness. As I was thinking about this, I realized this is another one of those instances where my identity as a follower of Christ needs to trump my identity as an American. My chief goals in life should not be to pursue my happiness and try to get ahead - my chief goal in life should be to pursue God with everything in me.

End of story for a few weeks. Nothing really changed - I mean, I realized this truth and thought about it, but it didn't really change anything.

This past week, I hit another bump in the road. In the middle of feeling extremely unhappy and freaking about about the H1N1 virus and other maladies, I just hit a wall where I panicked and realized I couldn't do this for the next 50-75 years. I would go crazy if I had to deal with life this same way for the rest of my life. It was a moment of complete desperation.

All of a sudden, I realized something. I need to not only be pursuing God (instead of my happiness), I also need to be pursuing things that will bring glory to God. See, the first (pursuing God) is true, but it's rather ambiguous - it's hard to get a clear action plan for that and it's hard to motivate me to change my actions throughout the day. Bringing glory to God, on the other hand, has very clear parameters. As I've realized this, I come to given situations and I look at them and ask myself, "How can I bring glory to God in this situation?" It also gives me motivation to do things I otherwise would avoid doing, because I know it's the right thing and it's bringing glory to God.

I've also realized, from experience and from logic, that the more I'm striving after bringing glory to God, the happier I will be. It's an amazing byproduct of the whole thing. As I'm bringing glory to God, I'm doing what I was created to do - I'm doing the right thing - and as I realize this and experience this, it brings me joy and happiness. Also, as I take the pressure off of pursuing happiness and as finding happiness is no longer my sole aim, it's easier to find happiness in the small things.

It also makes it easier to live in this world. Truth is, I'm sad and lonely and confused about the future. It's easy to be unhappy. If I'm living life to be happy, then I might as well end it all, because experience and observation shows that life is going to be tough and I'm not going to be happy a lot of the time. However, if I'm living life to bring glory to God, well, then it's a win/win situation. In every single situation I face, there is a way to bring glory to God. There is not always a way to be happy. As I bring glory to God in each and every one of the situations that are presented to me, then I will experience joy and learn to truly live this life.

I'm so torn... I really want to go back to college - I really want to get involved in the web design field. I really want to go back to Africa - I really want to make a difference in this world. Can the two go hand in hand? If I'm years and years into debt because of school fees, will I be able to go back to Africa anytime soon? Definitely not long term. Why would a web designer go to rural Africa? Wouldn't it make more sense if I was a teacher or something? But I don't want to teach here in the states, and it'd be nice to have a degree in something I would enjoy here in the states if Africa is short-term or never even happens. But I want to keep the door for going to Africa open... Ugh... so many decisions. I need wisdom, God!

I spent so much time in Africa wishing I was back in America - wishing I could connect more with my friends and family back home and wishing for the comforts and happiness of American life. Now that I'm here, I'm reminded that life sucks here, too. I'm no happier. I don't connect with my friends as often as I like. I do get to spend more time with my family, though, which is good. Oh, how I long to be content.