7

I have my friend Steph to thank for almost ruining our Florida vacation. While staying at this very savvy resort and spending long days at the pool and beach with utter no responsibilities, I am reading this book which Steph nearly forced into my hands a few days before leaving for vacation. It's called 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess, and it's all about one woman's journey to simplify her life in order to open herself up greater to God and to generous living. This woman confronts American consumerism and Christian wealth head on and invites her readers' hearts to bleed for the homeless, the refugee, the orphan, and the hungry. In truth, I am deeply grateful to Steph for this recommendation.  It is as inspiring as much as it is challenging.

What I am trying to say is that it is impossible to be here and not be reminded that we are within the top 1 percent wealthiest in the world. That most families feel it is a privilege to send their children to school while we view it a responsibility to take our children on vacation each summer (we were actually told, "Well, you have to take your children on vacation every year," by the vacation representative who visited our room this afternoon.)  While we might stress over which restaurant or beach we must visit while here, many families are stressing over which meal to eat today.  The gross gap in equity between the rich (us) and the poor (80% of human beings) is just that... gross... shameful... embarrassing... heart-breaking.

So back to the book: 7. Jen Hatmaker, the author, took seven months and chose seven areas of her life which needed simplified and tackled each problem area for a month.  Here's her list:

• Food
• Clothes 
• Possessions
• Media
• Waste
• Spending
• Stress

Could you do this?  She ate only seven ingredients during the Food month. She wore only seven items of clothing during the second month. She gave over seven possessions away daily during Month Three.  And she (and husband and children) abstained from all TV, video games, Facebook, blogs, Internet-surfing, iPhone Apps (basically anything other than work-related) during Media month.  You will have to read the book on your own to see what she did during the last three months, as I am still reading the chapter on Waste right now, but to be sure, she gained some golden perspective which no doubt will affect their life choices forever. 

The cool thing about reading this while on a family vacation is that I've been able to talk about this with my family!  In fact, Jarred has been so kind to endure my numerous outbursts of laughter (this is probably the funniest author I have ever read) and to listen to a few "short" sections that I just had to
read to him.  We've talked about how fortunate we are that we actually can take vacations.  I've shared anecdotes from 7, like the time that Jen Hatmaker and her then mega-church husband/pastor heard Shaine Claiborne speak about the homeless shelter nearby where sturdy shoes were a great necessity. And how he challenged everyone to leave their shoes and socks at the Communion table to be donated to this shelter.  And how Jen and her husband took off their brand new, very expensive cowboy boots and went home barefoot on a winter night, challenged and changed. 

I, too, am being challenged to change.  And I'd like to invite my family and perhaps some friends,  too, to engage in some of these experiments ourselves.  I'll be sure to post more on the subject then!

For now, please find a copy of this book!  You will be challenged and changed, too!

Back-to-School Bags the Fair Trade Way!

I've decided that I want to become more consistent with my blogging. So I've made a goal to post once a week, each week of the month corresponding with a different theme.  Week one: Fair trade or Environmentalism.  Week two:  Personal Reflection.  Week three: Social Issues.  And week four: Glo-burban Spotlights.

Since this is the first week of August and we are nearing the start of another school year, I decided to take some time to highlight some back-to-school bags... that are not only totally cool... but are also totally Fair Trade purchases!  You can be sure that these products were not made in some China sweatshop by children who would much prefer to be in school themselves, but were made by employees being treated rightly and payed fairly!

Just to be honest, my kids are not receiving one of these bags this school year, though they will be using their fair trade lunch boxes from last year.  I showed them  a few of these backpacks, but they are going with something different this year.  There are a gazillion fair trade and eco-friendly options out there, and it can be fun to shop online with your kids.  One of the best websites I've found for fair trade/eco-friendly products is WorldofGood.com by Ebay.

 Here are just a few that I thought were cool and affordable!

1. Bazura Bags

We bought two adorable lunch bags from Bazura Bags last year, and I have been asked on many occasion... "Where did you get those cute lunch bags?"  These are just two of their styles.  I love the messegner book bags made from used rice bags and recycled aluminum foil! 











2. Fair Trade Winds - Owl Back Pack

Isn't this cute?  Perfect for your little Pre-Schooler or Kindergartner?  These are made using various scraps of fabric by a Fair-Trade women's co-op in Thailand.





3.  Hempmania

This every day backpack is made of a very eco-friendly product, hemp, by Mayan families in Guatemala. Very versatile!






 4. Recycled Rice Lunch Bag

 I love this lunch bag!!!  And it would go perfect with the rice bag back pack from Bazura!














5. Fair Trade Winds - lunch bag

 Oh, isn't this a perfect gift for a teacher!  Who wouldn't love this cute lunch bag?  And they do free shipping!




6. Recycled Juice Bags Lunch Bag

This cute lunch box is made from recycled juice bags from the Philippines and is sold at my favorite store ever... Ten Thousand Villages!  It's very similar to the lunch bags I bought last year for Dylan and Jaida. 


Happy shopping, friends!

It Takes a Village

We've all heard the African proverb, "It takes a Village to Raise a Child.". I would propose that it takes a village to travel all of life's journeys, not just child-rearing.

Not long ago a friend of mine needed to undergo a fairly major surgery. This meant she would be out of normal commission for six weeks, unable to lift her toddler or romp with her preschooler or drive her older children to and from school. The average woman, I imagine, would feel a little panicky as how to juggle these limitations, but not so my friend. She wasn't phased. She is part of a village, and she knew her village would see her through. Sure enough, before coming home from the hospital, a meal schedule was being assembled and childcare volunteers were lining up to take turns helping with the two little ones.

It wasn't long until my friend was back on her feet, offering to make a meal and watch the children of another family from our village who was recently effected by a serious illness. This member of our village, although fairly new to our community, is being visited by near strangers with offers to do laundry or run to the grocery store or bring a meal.

This is "village life" and I wouldn't want it any other way. In my village, we intertwine our lives closely. We watch one another's children when we have doctor appointments. We visit each other in the hospital. We make sure a new mother has meals delivered to her door. We pass along our gently-used clothing. We take time to listen and laugh around beers or at coffee shops or at the dinner table. And when someone falls on hard times, we may cover a mortgage payment or pass on an anonymous cash gift. When another is left broken-hearted by their spouse, we lend our ears, our hearts, our time, and our favorite family therapists. In essence, we weave a safey basket around one another. Our lives are made stronger by the presence of each other, just as a tightly woven basket can carry a large bushel of apples.

I imagine wherever in Africa this saying derived, dependence on a community was essential for survival. Though I don't know many people who are trying to physically survive, I look around me and see many a person desperately trying to survive the emotional and spiritual landscapes around them. But so many lack a "village"! After all, isn't the American Dream realized by rugged individualism, pulling oneself up with one's bootstraps and forging ahead through life's wilderness with hardly a shrared cup of water?

I, for one, don't believe life was intended to live this way. I prefer the village way of life, practiced by my African brothers and sisters and by the first followers of Jesus and by whomever else lucky enough to find a community who accepts and supports them. Perhaps this individualistic approach to life is one reason why so many Americans are on antidepressants and anti-anxiety medications. I, too, would feel lonely and afraid if wondering a wilderness on my own.

I learned yesterday of a friend outside my village who is going through a heartbreaking circumstance that will require some major survival techniques. I do not know if she is surrounded by a village. Many of the commenters on her Facebook page offered their prayers and generic offers of "let me know if you need anything." Well, I am certain this friend is going to need a lot! She will need listening ears, encouraging notes, babysitters, and much more. I hope to treat her like a village member, not waiting for her to ask for favors.

What about you? Have you been lucky enough to have found a village, too?

Football and Flowers

 "I figure God made the flowers grow; 

I might as well share them."

-wise words of the little old Amish lady whose beautiful bouquet of flowers (stuck in a reused Applesauce jar) I bought for less than $2 yesterday

Summer is rolling by!  I know it is for all of us.  Time having fun always goes too fast!  But really, once we get back from vacation in early August, I must sign our lives away to fall sports.  Forgive me if I do not sound off-the-wall excited for the new activities my children have signed up for... which only have us committed for two hours a night, five days a week (before school begins) but then cuts back to two hours a night, three days a week (after school begins).  After all, we are talking about the all-important activities of football and cheer-leading.  Yes... football... and cheer-leading.  I know, I know.  This glo-burban mama has gone All-American, and she drags her feet while doing so.  

There are several reasons I find it difficult to get excited about this new venture my children are taking.  Not only am I concerned about the obvious... that precious brain behind that silly helmet... but I am dreading the hurried evenings, the loss of family time at home, and the challenge to complete homework, dinner, practice, and showers.  And then I worry about the football and cheer-leading "culture."  You know... all the glam and glory.  The boys competing in toughness and aggression.  The girls in cute ponytails and long legs.  And did I mention that I don't even understand the game of football?  Believe me; I've tried.  But if you haven't ever watched the game, it's very boring.  Trust me.  And what if they actually like it?  What if they want to continue?  Will I lose my children to the ranks of cocky, supposedly-popular, selfish, bratty teenagers?!  ...You understand my angst.

So where does that Amish woman's quote fit in with football and cheer-leading?  Well, to be honest, I keep finding myself in places where I am being asked to loosen the apron strings I've strung to my children, and I don't find this easy. Whether it was allowing Jaida to try out the haunted house ride on the boardwalk (she surprisingly loved it!) or realizing that Dylan is developing his own taste for music (very different than my own) or dropping them off with complete strangers at Bynden Wood Day Camp this week, I feel the tug between wanting to control their decisions and knowing I need to loosen my grip.  

My children are like the Amish woman's flowers.  Can I hold them as generously as she does her beloved blooms, willing to share them with a world I cannot control?  It is a delicate task the parent is asked to do.  It does not mean giving up on guiding our children altogether.  Not at all!  The Amish woman does not cut her flowers and throw them at the edge of the road for any wanderer to carelessly pick up.  Neither do we allow our children to follow every whim and desire.  She first nurtures her flowers with tenderness and water, allowing them to blossom in whatever color and form they are created to be.  She then cuts her stems, arranges the blooms in a lovely bouquet, and lets them leave her garden and go into the hands of others who admire their beauty.  She does not own her flowers; she cannot control the growth process.  They are gifts given to her so that she may share them.  

It is the same with my children.  They are amazing gifts that I aim to nurture with loving counsel, gentle discipline, listening ears, and a trusting spirit.  They are not mine, though.  How differently we treat our children when we remember that!  

The Amish woman's words keep repeating themselves in my head as I wonder what humankind would be like if we viewed all of God's creation in the same way... the oceans, the trees, the animals, "our" backyards, "our" food, the air we breathe.  

"I figure God made the flowers grow; I might as well share them."

Quaker for the Day

One thing I value as a "glo-burbanite" is learning from faith traditions other than my own.  I believe there are nuggets of wisdom found in most faith traditions if we are humble enough to listen and learn from one another.  This does not mean I adopt every belief or practice as my own... only that I am open to what truths may be expressed or experienced in ways I am not familiar. 

For example, growing up across the street from Amish neighbors provided a window into a culture that has many values worth borrowing, not the least of which are hard work, humility, simplicity, and forgiveness. I still keep in touch (and am challenged by) my childhood friend Elsie who is one of the most joyful and content women I know!

Borrowing from the Catholic tradition, I began seeing a spiritual director four years ago (who happens to be Mennonite, actually), and her mentoring friendship with me has been one of the most significant gifts in my spiritual journey as an adult.

And I began practicing yoga and meditation (which I love with my whole limber self!) a year ago, borrowed in part from Buddhist and Hindu practices.

Yesterday, I decided to visit the Quakers.  I have been wanting to visit a Friends Meeting House for quite some time now, as I find the Quakers very intriguing.  One of the "nuggets" I have learned from them is that they value the divine presence of God (often termed Light) in every human being (even in their "enemies") which has led them to value non-violence and peace-making as a way of life.

Another interesting tidbit about the Quakers is that they usually do not have spiritual leaders.  When they gather for Sunday morning worship, they sit in silence until someone feels led by the Spirit (or Light) to share something for the benefit of the whole group.  Then they return to silence and prayerful meditation until another might feel led to share. 

Since Jarred was in Boston for the weekend at a conference and the kids had spent the night with their grandparents, I decided that I'd go and visit the Maidencreek Meetinghouse, a small stone structure built in 1759, near Leesport, PA.  These are my reflections from my journal...


Struggling to find my turn off of 61, I tried to silent my pumping heart like a good Quaker girl. (Rushing into a silent room doesn't seem to be the Quaker way.) I found it, a blessed ten minutes before 10:00, and was, a little awkwardly, only the second person to enter the meetinghouse. "Oh no," I thought. "What if it's just me and that man?" Then I heard another car pulling along the stone drive. Phew...

One by one, the faithful strolled in.  Sometimes I glanced their way and received a smile or "good morning." There were twelve of us altogether (the same number Jesus thought would be good to change the world.)  ;-)

This one was a silent meeting. No words were needed today. Personally, I thought the setting was a beautiful sermon in its own rite.  The old stone building with its wide, wooden-beamed floor and long straight wooden benches--covered by faded orange cushions--sang with total tranquility and sacred tradition.  The open windows and doors were just that... open.  They welcomed not only the nameless strangers such as I, but the breezes and the bees and the flies.  Had a skunk walked in the door, I think he would have been offered a seat.

Instead of a choir, we had the birds.  And let me tell you, their voices echoed beautifully over the lake and the trees, filtering into our sanctuary. 

As the hour passed, I shifted my posture now and then, as well as my thoughts.  They drifted to loved ones, my friend who just moved away and to my brothers.  They drifted toward the members in the room... What are their stories?  How long have they been "Quaker"?  What do they think of me?  They drifted to myself... I need to stretch.  Can I clear my throat silently?  I'm getting sleepy.  

I thought about other moments where I've sat in silence with others--at the beginning of Nar-Anon meetings, before our sung prayers at the Pilgrimage of Peace retreats in West Virginia, at youth group events when we'd spread out for silent prayer or devotions, during the evening Scripture meditation at the Kairos retreat back in January.

I've decided I like sitting in silence.  (Almost as much as I love gabbing with friends.)  Both are good. Both nourish the soul.  Both communicate truth and love if we have ears to hear.  And so I think I will practice Quakerism more often. 

How about you?  Have you ever experienced a faith tradition outside of your own?  What did you learn from it? 

A "Home-Schooling" Summer

So in case you didn't know, school lets out today!! Honestly, I might be more excited than the kids. Summertime for us means me not working, afternoons at the pool, sleepovers with friends, picnics at the park, weekly bike-rides to the library, etcetera. I've got to admit, the kids and I have it pretty good. I often get that slight pang of guilt when I hand Jarred his kiss and coffee-to-go in the mornings and wish him a great day at work, and he wishes us a great day... at the pool.

Fun, however, is not the only item on our summer agenda. Well, maybe for the kids. But not for me! Summer is also my season to "home-school." Now, before you get any grand notions in your head about me dutifully displaying mathematical flash cards as my children sharpen their math skills or conducting scientific experiments on our kitchen counter while my children watch in awe behind protective, plastic glasses, let me be clear. I am quite comfortable, at this point, leaving my children's basic academic lessons in the hands of their wonderfully talented teachers. The "home-schooling" I am referring to is of another dimension.

See, I think up until recent generations, home-schooling was a common phenomenon. I would even go as far as to say that many cultures still practice home-schooling around the world. At risk of sounding like a "fuddy-duddy" (what is that anyway?), the home-schooling I wish to resurrect is the training of my children's moral character and skills for adulthood. There. I said it. This, I fear, is a lost art in many homes today, probably due in part to the fact that families are pulled in dozens of directions. But I also think this has a lot to do with what we (including myself) believe about children and what we value about life.

It seems to me that our culture (at least the suburban culture I am a part of) believes that: Number one, the chief end of childhood is to "have fun!" And number two, children can only be expected to participate in an activity if it is entertaining or ends with some sort of pleasure reward (i.e. candy). It's my opinion that these two beliefs are producing individuals who expect to be constantly entertained, who are missing the experience of intrinsic rewards (i.e. I feel proud that I was competent enough to complete that task or contribute to the family. Or... Watching the flowers pop up is so fascinating; maybe next year I'll talk to Mom about planting a garden.), and who are in many ways immature.

So here are some of my goals for home-schooling my children over the summer. (I hope it is understood that I don't look at summer as the only time to train my children. It is, however, when we have the most concentrated time to optimize on life lessons.)

1. Stop labeling every activity as "fun." I can't tell you how often I find myself saying to my children, "This will be fun!" Or... "Wasn't that fun?!" I am indirectly telling my children that something is only worth doing if it is fun. Well, feeding my family is not always fun, but I do it because it's important. Studying for tests was a complete headache, but it was necessary to succeed in school. Visiting residents at the nursing home was a little smelly and uncomfortable, but the kids brought smiles to some very lonely, forgotten people and felt the joy of doing so.

2. Implement a daily morning routine with responsibilities. So before we run off to the pool or invite friends over to play in the afternoon, I want my children to learn that work comes before play (and play is more enjoyable when in that order). I am going to use this summer as a time to further train the kids on some basic household duties, like how to run the washer and dryer and how to scrub the toilets. As they are able to help out with more of the everyday chores, I will hopefully be more free to tackle the neglected ones (i.e. cleaning windows!!) Personally, I think, if trained properly, children are quite capable of much more than we think. (I think of my parents' Amish neighbors whose children help in the garden, collect eggs, and drive horses in the fields at probably the ages of my own children.)

3. Encourage 45 minutes of daily reading. Our local library offers a summer reading program where the children keep track of how many books they read and can "cash in" tickets for prizes. I suppose the kids are reading mostly for the prizes, but I hope that as they read more, they will become better readers, seek out better books, and better develop their knowledge and creativity.

4. Restrict screen time to 2 hours a day. This restriction is mostly for our son who loves any kind of gadget with a screen, but who can actually entertain himself quite well once he realizes no person or gadget is around to do it for him. I am very excited to report that my children have finally begun watching reruns of Little House on the Prairie, the TV series my friends and I grew up watching and learning from (talk about a huge difference in value compared to SpongeBob!) Screen time does not merely need to be restricted; we parents can influence the quality of what our children are watching, too.

5. Teach money values. In an excessively, abundant culture such as ours, I find this very tricky. I want Dylan and Jaida to learn the value of waiting for something they want (versus instant gratification) and working and saving for that purchase. The children already know that gifts are for birthdays and Christmas, so if they really want something between thoses times, it must come from their own wallets. Already we have watched them make connections over the value of a dollar, save their coins for something more valuable than candy, and take pride in handing their own money to the cashier at Target. I've put together a list of tasks (above the weekly chores) that they may earn an extra dollar or two by completing--everything from washing out the garbage cans to wiping down the baseboards to organizing their dressers.

I may not need to teach my children skills for survival or pass along a trade such as some children may be learning in other cultures, but I still feel a great responsibility to prepare my children for responsible, mature adulthood. Will you join me in this endeavor of "home-schooling" this summer? What will your goals be?

Shrimp Salsa and Immigrant Life

Few things bring me greater pleasure than getting to know people from other cultures. Well, eating food prepared by people from other cultures is in close rivalry. And I was lucky enough to do both last Thursday!

I have been teaching English as a Second Language on and off the last several years with a non-profit called Wisdom 31. This past school year I was privileged to spend two hours a week with adult students who come from Mexico, El Salvador, the Dominican Relublic, Honduras, and China! And as the tradition goes, on our last day of class, before summer break, we end early and eat a pot-luck lunch together with all the other classes. And boy-oh-boy! No one leaves hungry! Can I tell you how cool it is to see an entire table full of mostly Latin American food but none of it looks like Taco Bell? My only complaint this year is that no one brought any mangu (mashed plantains with cheese). However, the chicken-filled corn tortillas with guacamole and the homemade salsa with baby shrimp more than compensated. And everyone raved about Quadria's Iranian rice, who replied with a shy smile and quiet "thank you."

More fulfilling than any meal is the opportunity to learn about these brave and hard-working immigrants. I sat next to Wenru, our only Chinese student, who patiently and sweetly brings along her aged husband--who speaks not a word of English and has dementia. I listened to her talk about her children, her Chinese-American church, and her love for God. I've heard stories from my Colombian friend who had to flee her home country and comfortable lifestyle when her husband's life was threatened and who now works long hours at a little grocery store he opened in Reading. I've listened to stories from my Mexican friend who took a dangerous risk with her mother when they crossed the border when she was only twelve years old and then how their church lent her mother money to help bring her younger siblings over. All the mothers have stories to share about their children, many who have hopes for college; some of these mothers have plans for higher education themselves. Most work low-paying jobs at the factories or bus tables at a local restaurant or spend their days cooking and caring for children.

Life is not easy for the immigrant. It never has been. I'm certain that when my English, German, and Irish ancestors came over from Europe they also worked long hours with little pay. They surely struggled to find housing, feed and educate their children, and battle homesickness. I would like to believe that those who had come before them welcomed my ancestors into their communitites, taught them English (well, to the German speakers anyway), invited them to their churches, and overall accepted them as "brothers and sisters."

This is the kind of work that Wisdom 31 does. It offers English and citizenship classes, but just as importantly, friendship and a place to connect within the Reading community. It brings together people of various nations and reminds us that we are all connected, that what we have in common is more than what differentiates us. It reminds me that the human spirit desires the same things... A place to belong, a space to make a contribution (whether through work or child-rearing or volunteerism), adequate food and shelter, opportunties for the next generation, and love and friendship.

I only hope we can always be a nation that welcomes the immigrant (and expands our tastebuds), remembering that all of us are descendants of another land.