Larov

“Mostly,” said the roof to the sky,
“the distance between you and I is endlessness;
But a while ago two came up here,
And only one centimeter was left between us.”

 

privilege is relative.

"There are those who expect
the unexpected.
Those who cast their vote
for hope.
Those who believe that good
will triumph over evil.
We are those people...
We are the masses, misfits, moguls, media, Millennials,
doing what we can now,
with what we have-
Our Voice.
Our impact is only limited 
by our willingness to change ourselves.
We are abducting ourselves
to pose the question to our leaders:
Is their life as valuable as mine?
We are shaping human history
by closing the divide between
resources and responsibility,
distance and disinterest,
awareness and action.
This is about redefining our role in the world-
putting purpose before profit.
It's about ending the longest running war in Africa,
setting the precedent for justice,
and finishing what was started.
We are here to amplify the chorus of their cries.
Rescue Joseph Kony's Child Soldiers."

 I work with some of the most precious kids ever. I mean, ever. There is a boy named Caleb who used to make me "special picnics" and would freak out when his sister tried to sit down. Katie and her cousin Lincoln apparently wrote a cheer for me when I was gone one week. Isaiah has the most contagious smile and beautiful eyes. And Avery... man... I wish I was as free-spirited now as she is as a preschooler.

Yesterday at work, I talked to my co-worker about my involvement with Invisible Children and Resolve. She told me she had seen something recently on the news about it and asked if Kony really did take young children, or if they were a bit older. I looked around the room and took in the sight of my precious four and five year olds, and suddenly pictured them trying to carry a gun... or run from one. It absolutely took my breath away. 

As it should.

It's easy to forget to put faces on the numbers of children affected by the LRA atrocities in central Africa. It's so easy to be so "patriotic" that you worry first and foremost about America and "the needs at home." It's so easy to make these stories of war simply that- stories. But how can I ever look at the kids at my work and not see our African brothers and sisters? How can I, one day, have children of my own and want them to be protected, knowing that I did nothing to protect the children of mothers just like me in central Africa? Mothers who hurt, just like me. 

 I believe it is our duty as members of a global family to rise up and fight against injustice. To use the voices that God has given us to cut loose the ties of poverty and slavery. Invisible Children has taught me that "some people are born into privilege... but privilege is relative. And what we have really been given is a responsibility to give back." I want to be one who gives back. What will you do with the life, the voice, the privilege you have been given?

"We're all here in this world for some reason or another. If you're aware of injustice, you can either ignore it, say there is nothing you can do about it, complain about it and not do anything, or put your energies into doing something about it... I don't believe that just because one person is born on one side of some imaginary line and another person is born on the other side means that a lot of people should be getting screwed through no fault of their own." -- Ben Cohen

wwjd bracelets, jelly bands, livestrong, silly banz, you.

I hate that you've become a fad that people want to take refuge in while they can. Your name becomes as cliche as... well, as cliche as cliches get.

My sparrow. My tree. The one who pushes me to fly, but the one I always fly back to. The one who helps me find my grounding, my roots.

To some of us, you are not a bracelet to be worn and shown off for status.

I have the dinosaurs, grapes, AND a soccer ball. All you have is the heart.

((i'll take the heart))

John 12.24

I carry you with me into the world,
into the smell of rain
the words that dance between people
for me, it will always be this way,
walking in the light,
remembering being alive together 

 Love you and miss you so much tonight. I'm jealous of you dancing with others as you praise Jesus... as He stands in front of you. Selfishly, I want you to come back. To sit on my porch and drink ice tea with me and eat ice cream. To skype me so I can hear your voice one more time. But nothing I can offer could ever compare to being with the Lord. "Well done, my good and faithful servant."- the words you always wanted to hear coming from the King of all creation. I know He said them to you. And one day, I will hug you again with all the joy we once had plus some. One day I will rejoice in heaven and praise the Lord of Lords with you. Until then, I miss you and will carry you with me all the way. I know that even in your death, so much fruit will come forth for the harvest. You sought to live your life as a testimony to who God was- and you did it, Chris. You shone so bright into the world, it was a bit blinding! Your life, your joy, your passion; I hold them so close to my heart that they mix with my own and overflow. I will never forget you and the legacy you have left behind. I love you, and I'm thankful everyday for the time I shared with you. What a wonderful man of God, what a wonderful friend, what a wonderful creation He made you. :)

"Please don't think I take it lightly to leave you. 

I love you and will miss you,

but know that this absence will only be temporary.

I'll see you soon."

-Chris Baillie

November 24, 1985 - Jul 18, 2010

The man who never tiptoed.

All around you people will be tiptoeing through life, just to arrive at death safely. But dear children, do not tiptoe. Run, hop, skip or dance, just don't tiptoe.

 Words fail me. So I chose to quote others.

I love you so much.

Thank you for helping me learn to jump. I was so excited to tell you that I'm doing it. I'm jumping. No turning back now. You always ran headfirst into life, Chris. Your life was an example of living boldly.

I love you for running, for hopping, for skipping, and for dancing. For being you.

I miss you already.

rejoice in the life.

What do you do when your heart is broken for your family? 

I mean, how do I even express that? It's just... stunning. My IC family is torn, and I can do nothing. 

I want to do something. Something to heal the wounds that today caused.

God, work in mighty ways. Nate's death- along with the many Ugandans killed today- will not be in vain. I don't understand your ways, and I never will. But I know that You are sovereign, Father. I know that You have a plan and that You use even the worst of events for Your glory. Be with the Henns, and with Lindsey, and the families of the Ugandans killed today. Be with the IC family in this time of brokenness, and move in the hearts of those left in the wake of this bombing. 

"Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit" -John 12.24

Friends,

I don't say enough how much I love you. If I could hold every one of you in my arms right now, I would. I beg of you, don't take today for granted. I thought today of the NY Times article I read not too long after the bombing. It said that "one American" had died. That's a headline I've read so many times. "Plane crashes in Bahamas. 24 injured, 4 killed." "Explosion at Auto Factory Leaves 17 Dead." Numbers.

But today it was a member of the family I hold so close to my heart. That "one" meant something. These numbers I read are not just random people. They are someone's child; someone's girlfriend or boyfriend; someone's teacher; someone's father or mother; someone's best friend. How often do I just assume that those people in my life will continue to be there tomorrow? 

Each one of you who reads this has shared in my life to some degree. Some more than others, but you have left an imprint on my life and I am so grateful every time I think of you. The beautiful hearts and souls I see in each and every one of you is absolutely breathtaking. I don't know why God has shown me such grace in giving me you, but He has, and I am in awe of the lives I am surrounded by. 

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Tomorrow, at 4.34 PM I will be joining Natalie Sheehan in dancing my heart out in memory of Nate Henn. It will be a celebration of his life, and his sacrifice. It will be a celebration of the life I have been given, and the friends I have been blessed with. Rejoice in the life, my beloved. We will not always have the chance to dance.