My Little Attempt To Change The World

Publix1 So I’m in Publix last night for my weekly grocery shopping when I hear the familiar line, "paper or plastic."

It always amuses me to hear this and watch the face of the checker or bagger asking. They automatically expect to hear plastic. So much so that it always takes them a moment to realize I’ve said "paper please."

Last night was no exception. In fact, they so expect shoppers to say plastic, that the paper bags are hidden behind the plastic bag loader and under the counter. It took a little work for the bagger to bring out the three or so bags needed for my load. And his expression was rather priceless as well. He was quite put out that he had to go digging for the seldom used bags and had no qualms showing it in his demeanor.

Not only that, but he had no idea how to pack groceries into one. He put my gallon of milk on the bottom, packed the bag with several items then topped it off with my loaf of wheat bread. Huh1

Milk and bread in the same bag? Never saw that before.

So what’s the deal with the plastic bags anyway? Why do stores seem to push them on us, when everything else in our lives is so focused on "recycling" and taking care of the environment? And why do they even bother to ask the double-P question when they already so assume the consumer will go for the plastic that they’ve placed the paper bags in inconvenient places for their baggers and don’t even train said baggers in how to properly pack a paper bag?

Oh, and I know what you’re asking me in the privacy of your own web-world as well… why in the world to you take bulky hard-to-hold paper bags over the ease of plastic bags with their handy-dandy little handles?

I’ll tell you why. India. China. Ethiopia. Tijuana. Ensenada. That’s why.

One of the longest lasting images I have of these places is the ubiquitous presence of plastic bags, smashed in the gutters, clinging to fences and Plastic_bags_in_the_bushes_2 walls, wafting in the breezes and filling up the trash heaps. These pervasive and familiar contraptions don’t ever seem to die. They live on in countries and regions too poor to afford clean up crews and overflow garbage piles all over the world. I can’t tell you how often I saw these bags flying through the air or clutching to local vegetation as if sucking the life out of it. In Ethiopia it sometimes seemed that the plastic bag was "grown" along side the tumble weeds and tall grasses.

With each new siting I swore I would never use another plastic bag again in my life. But reality is such a different creature than our ideals. Once back in the States (or in European life), however, I eventually found myself clutching   my own little life-sucker as I left my local Walgreen’s or Kroger. The pull of ease and convenience was much stronger than my desire to rid the world of the evil plastic bag. That is, until recently.

Something snapped in me a couple of months ago. I don’t know what it was — perhaps I just finally found my own strength of will (and character?). But I came to the firm conclusion that I no longer have to contribute to the world’s supply of un-recycled plastic bag trash. Every time I’d walk out of the store carrying my plastic bag full of goodies my joy was diminished by the images in my mind of that same plastic bag someday littering the African landscape and diminishing the beauty and grandeur by its very existence. It finally got to much for me to bear. And I decided it is time to take a stand. No matter how small or insignificant it may seem to others. I needed to do something. I needed to do something. So I asked for my first paper bags since I was in high school.

I sounded as if I was asking a huge favor from the checker.

"Paper or Plastic, ma’am?" Even the baggers are polite in the South.

"Uh… paper… please?" Did I actually squeak when I said that??

Oh, but I felt so very good when I left with my paper bags full of groceries. I’d just kept four plastic bags out of circulation. Ethiopia would be a little less in danger of being overrun with those evil life-suckers now.

With each trip to the grocery store it got a little easier, and I got a little more confident in my "paper" declaration. Till one day I found myself anticipating the question and stating, "paper bags please," before the checker even had time to ask.

It also helped that I discovered the self-checkout lines. Except for the fact that they make it even more difficult to use paper bags in those lines. Have you ever tried to bag your groceries with paper while keeping them on that little pad so the machine doesn’t loudly proclaim, for all the store to hear, "Please put the item back in the bag," while at the same time not toppling over and crashing to the floor spilling jam and spaghetti sauce all over the you and the three people at the next two stations? It ain’t easy. But I make it work. Because it matters to me.

Eventually I hope to gather some cotton totes to carry into stores with me, but for now, paper is good. it works whether I recycle, or send it to the land fill. At least it will turn back to pulp/dust many decades sooner than plastic will…. do whatever it is that plastic does when it finally fades away… Does it fade away???

Fullsize1I cannot save the world from hate or war. I may not even be able to clean up our planet and rid it of all garbage and air pollutants. But I can do one thing:

I can lessen the world’s trash by a few bags and, hopefully, help keep it a little cleaner for the next generation. My paper bags may cause inconvenience for the checkers and baggers of America. But if I can help keep Ethiopia from being completely overrun by plastic bags, even in a small way, than it’s worth all the rolled eyes and cranky attitudes I get.

How Can This Be??

Our intern, a graphic design major at a UT school, just told me she’s never heard of the EU and doesn’t know anything about it.

Huh???

How is that possible?? How does a 25 year-old graduate from high school and make it all the way through to her senior year of college — including a couple of years for just working and hanging out — and not learn about the fastest growing, most loudly self-promoting, and somewhat influential political body in the world today?? Just what are they teaching in schools today???

A Possible New Name

My partner and friend in production for our Sunday morning chapel service suggested a new name for me, and my blog, yesterday.

Sound Goddess.

Wha’cha think? Cool huh.

I like it. —- Just not sure I’m ready to change all the links and crap that goes along with a title change…

Only God Can Do This

Drawn_hisham_zreiq
Wade Burleson has a wonderful blog that, if you haven’t checked it out yet, you need to read. Today he had a very thought-provoking post about the tension between mission and military success.

"It bothers me that I am not bothered by the death of by the Islamic fantatics [sic]. I wonder if we in the Christian West are in danger of becoming just like the Muslims in the East."

That statement resonated deep within me. I think sometimes people think I’m either a rabid military fanatic because of my support for them and what they are trying to do in places like Iraq and Afghanistan, or they think I’m a weepy wimp for my grieving over the lives lost in the wars and conflicts going on right now. I sometimes confuse myself for all the emotions running around inside me. There is definitely a tension between the side of me that cries out for justice (and perhaps revenge?) for what the terrorists do and the side of me that just cries out for the lives taken in any military action, including those of the terrorists.

I wasn’t always this conflicted, this emotionally wacky, when it comes to the people of the Arab world. There was a time when it evoked only one emotion. But to explain, I need to start in the middle.

God asked me to go to NAME the spring before 9/11. It was a bit of a shock to me, as I’d spent most of my time in China or Japan and was actually on a 4-month assignment in India when He asked — I mean, if God’s going to send me overseas, I just assumed it would be one of the countries and peoples He’d already planted in my heart. But God’s ways are just a little different than mine….

Anyway, I thought little of His place of choice, other than the oddness of where it was not, until the weekend after the towers fell in 2001.

I remember that as I watched the twin towers fall and the fires in the Pentagon rage something deep within my soul cried out, "Father forgive them! They don’t know what they are doing." I kept repeating that all day long. And my heart grieved not only for the people in the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and all their families, but also for the pilots of the planes. They had started the morning thinking they were going to enter Paradise, and be celebrated as heroes. They ended it stepping before Almighty God and being found guilty of grievous sins and not allowed into Paradise for all eternity.

I grieved for what they had done unknowingly yet purposefully.

That weekend however, a great rage grew in my heart. And that Sunday night I sat at Urban listening to Erwin talk about the week’s events and reading from Isaiah 6, and hearing God whisper to me, "will you go? I want you to go to them," and my heart burned with rage and my face burned with tears. An absolute rage and built inside me early in the weekend and came bursting forth like a roaring wildfire in the dry hills of Malibu in October, just consuming everything in its sight. And the tears flowed as I realized just how much hatred had grown in my heart for a people I’d never even met. In my teen years I watched "America Held Hostage" (it later became "Nightline") night after night. I watched Iranians burn American flags and effigies of my President(s) and scream about the infidel Americans and how awful we were and how we must be wiped off the face of the earth. Since that time I’d harbored a deep, deep anger, even hatred, for Arabs in general and Muslims in specific, and I didn’t even know it. Until that Sunday in September 2001.

And on that same night, I heart God whisper to me, "will you go? I want you to go."

Why in the world was God calling me to NAME?? Why was He calling me to be His advocate, His ambassador, His intercessor, for these hateful, hateful people? My mind was consumed with pictures of them as ugly, mean and… hateful… people. And I hated them. I’d never known that about myself till the weekend after 9/11. But it was true down to the core of my being. I hated them, with a passion, and did not want to share Jesus with them at all. And yet here is God asking me to go to them and share the Gospel with them??? Did He not realize what was in my heart? —- Though I didn’t think of the similarities at the time, as I type this now it conjures up images of Jonah, and the shock and confusion he must felt when God asked Him to go to Nineveh.

I struggled and struggled with my anger and hatred — I couldn’t believe I had such a ugly feelings for people I’d never met. I’d never felt that way before. Never realized I was even capable of such deep hatred.

And I fought with God over His "wisdom" in asking me to go. One day He finally grabbed my face in His hands and quietly said, "who better to go than you? Than someone who for so long has hated but will someday love them as I do."

Yeah, I thought that was pretty wacked too. But it turns out… perhaps He was right…

In the following months, as I prepared to go, and the year I spent in the region, God did something I never thought possible. He turned my hate into crazy love, my anger into sorrow and tears, and my questioning of His wisdom into begging Him to rain down and drench NAME with blessing upon blessing. It didn’t come all at once. It came in slow increments. But it came. I learned about the cultures. I learned about Islam. I learned about God’s love for the people. And one day I realized, I loved these people. I cared about them and I wept over them.

All I did was ask God to give me His love for them, since I had none of my own. And I said, "yes. If You want me to go, I’ll go. I think You’re crazy, but I’ll go."

I remember spending many nights in my flat in Cyprus on my knees crying out to God to "let it rain on NAME," on all its peoples; to open the floodgates of heaven and drench them with His love and grace and mercy; to wrap them in His arms and whisper His love and His Truth to them; the Truth of who they really are, the people He sees them as, not the people the enemy has tricked them into believing they are. My heart ached and burned with passion, with love, for the people I once hated.

Only God can do that.

Even though I no longer serve that region as a paid advocate (missionary), I still serve them through my prayers, and through my conversations with people about the region and its people; the beauty not only of the land, but of all its peoples with all their diversity of cultures and religions. I guess you could kind of say I left part of my heart in Northern Africa and the Middle East, and God planted NAME deep within the rest of my heart still in me.

I used to not have any problem with killing terrorists. Now, even though I realize that sometimes their deaths are necessary for the safety of thousands, my heart grieves every time one dies.

Isn’t that weird? And yet kinda cool at the same time.

Night Sounds

Rain showers rolled through today. Much need rain danced and drenched everything around here. I couldn’t resist taking a few pictures of the flowers on my trees dripping in beauty. I’ll post them whenever I get my film developed.

The rain and clouds cooled the earth and brought temperatures down to a welcome comfortable level. Finally I am able to turn off the a/c and leave my window open to bring in fresh night air.

I love the sounds of Tennessee summer nights. Crickets and bull frogs and other critters create an amazing symphony that soothes my soul more than I can explain.

Is it possible to be born for a particular place? If so, I was born for Tennessee.

Still

Digging deep is exhausting. Ransacking one’s own heart to get to the core of the pain is not something for the faint of heart.

If I listen to the voices in my head, I am the faint of heart. Yet tonight, and for many many nights over the last two years, I dug deep. I found the pain. And I found it’s source. An elephant sat on my chest and I couldn’t breathe.

I came home and sat in the silence of the night, alternately writing and crying, sometimes both. My journal is filled with tear-stained pages.

Larry seems to be having a similar night as me.

"It’s interesting that God didn’t get angry, as my repeated implications
of nefarious activity in my life might have produced in another. He
knows that what’s really going on is the desperate hope of a very
scared child who has always had to fight for room in which to breathe.
I’ll even fight God for that. Too scared to hope that anything good
could be real, too badly hurt to want to be hurt again, so kill off the
hope and drive God away so that His offers of hope don’t tempt me away
from safety."

Tonight I heard a description of myself that sounded so beautiful; resilient, courageous, gentle, compassionate… I just wish I believed it were true. The mirror I look in shows me a far uglier picture.

So I sat in the stillness, writing on the wet pages of my journal. God sat down beside me and we cried together. I’d forgotten how good that feels. So much time running from myself. So little time sitting in the stillness, letting God drench me.

I know I have come a long way on this journey of healing, health and wholeness. But days like today remind me just how far I have yet to go. Could it be possible that the most painful and difficult of this path lies just ahead, in this very realm of learning to love myself?

Correction & Apology

I just got a very kind voicemail message left by Michelle at WKRN saying that ABC made the last minute decision to replace "Lost" last night with "George Lopez". My bad for blaming WKRN. It wasn’t their fault and I apologize to them for my tantrum.  Excuse me now while I kick ABC’s butt for not feeding my addiction. I’ll be back soon.

AAAAUUUGHHHHH!!

ImagesI’m really hating WKRN right now.
This will probably not endear me to Brittney, and it will probably kill my chances of ever being on Nashville it Talking ever again — and there goes any hope of ever getting back on it’s aggregator; I’ve been off it since I moved my blog over to Typepad –but I’m so frustrated with the station right now I don’t care. WHAT are they DOING to me????

ABC’s website says that there is a Lost episode scheduled to air tonight. However, WKRN has for some stupid reason or another decided NOT to show it, but to show some episode of "George Lopez" instead.

Hello?! "George Lopez"??? Come on. You preempt one of the highest rated (if not THE highest rated) shows on your network to show some low-rated, half-wit sitcom? One that I don’t even like?? (because it is all about me, you know) How rude is that.

Don’t they know I’m desperately trying to get up to speed on this incredible show before the OctoberEtc1_c09_f2_1 start of the 3rd season? Don’t they know that now I have to spend $3 to download it from iTunes? Don’t they know how frustrating it is to have to watch this incredible show on my laptop??

I mean, I watch "Lost" faithfully each week. Well, at least I have since I "discovered" its greatness over Memorial day weekend. Not only that, I watch it in real time
— okay, that’s because I don’t have TiVo — but still, I’m watching WKRN through the commercials and everything. And I stay on WKRN for the news. Okay, I’m really waiting for "Sex and The City" to come on, but I choose to keep it on WKRN. And I do think they have the best newscast in Nashville. And I always turn to them when there’s a "storm" on the way….

Is it too much to ask of them to at least keep to the ABC schedule when it comes to "Lost" for such a faithful supporter of the station as me? I mean, come on, guys. It’s been two weeks without "Lost" on the tee-vee. I’m going into withdrawals here. Give a girl a break. Feed my addiction. Please. I’m. Dying. Here.

New Design & Content

I got bored today and thought I’d change the look of my blog. How do you like the two columns and the color scheme? It’s hard at times because Typepad’s color palette isn’t as wide as I’d prefer. I know I could move on up to something like Word Press, but I just don’t think I’m ready to do that much designing. Perhaps someday, though.

What ultimately necessitated the changes, though, were all the new fun widgets Typepad recently made so simple to add to one’s blog. Take a look around at the sidebars and you’ll see lots of new fun stuff. On the left side there’s things like my "43 Things/Places" lists and over to the right you’ll see a fun little "blog tattoo" with Kanji characters, as well as a OpinMind which feeds a steady list of quotes from this very blog for your enlightenment. Or amusement, which ever comes most.

My list of categories has also changed to a cool "cloud" that highlights the ones I use most.

And while I was at it, I changed a few other small things here and there. Take a look around and let me know what you think.